When Tomorrow Comes Read Online Free PDF

already,” he whispered hoarsely, the quiver in his voice making her wince. “Start your investigation back among the paper pushers in the office!” His lips curled as he moved an inch closer. “If you really care about the truth, search there! Don’t come out here and get on my back about a few workers standing around for an hour or two. It’s my job to get a bridge built with secondhand equipment, lousy-fitting spare parts and back orders that are six months old. What the hell are you doing? It’s your job to make sure I get the things I need, so my men don’t have to stand around!”
    He jerked away so suddenly that Cait had to catch herself. He strode away, jerked up the blueprint roll and slammed the door behind him.
    She trembled, closing her eyes and fighting back tears of rage. Campos was right. Dominic Tobbar was nothing but a troublemaker who was always ready to foist the problems back on upper management. Grabbing her hat from the table, she walked stiffly out of the shack.
    Cait lost track of time as she continued to cross check records of when materials had been bid, purchase orders issued, equipment finally delivered and spare parts reordered. By the time she looked up to get a cup of coffee, night had thrown its black cape across the desert. Pushing a thick strand of hair from her temple, she threw another pile of purchase orders on the table. Her stomach growled, but she ignored it. The clash with Dominic had destroyed her appetite completely.
    It was nearly eleven-thirty when she laid her head down on the stack of pink-and-white documents to doze for a few minutes. A noise, a door opening, made her jerk up. She looked toward the entrance, her eyes large and dazed with tiredness. It took two full seconds to realize she had given a small cry of alarm. Dominic Tobbar stood in the doorway, filling it with his bulk, back lit, making him look like a nightmarish shadow.
    “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
    Cait rubbed her eyes, fighting off grogginess. His field boots sounded hollowly in the trailer as he walked over to the table. She looked up at him guardedly, feeling vulnerable from waking, without the facade of her supervisory functions to mask her mobile features. He set a green bottle down and placed two white foam cups in front of her. Grasping a chair, he sat down opposite her, his arms draped casually on the table.
    The silence deepened. Cait felt an almost tangible friction beginning to build between them. “Look,” she began, her voice husky, “I’m—”
    “I owe you an apology,” he interrupted softly, his mouth quirking at one corner. “I deserve your anger. I shouldn’t have lost my temper out there this afternoon. It isn’t your fault this site is a mess.” ‘He gestured toward the bottle. “Wine from Mendoza. Best burgundy in the country. A peace offering after today’s events.” His eyes were hooded as he continued to stare at her. “I’d like to apologize for being so forward, if it offended you.”
    She stared at him, not quite able to cope with his change in attitude. This could not be the Dominic Tobbar she knew. No, this man was speaking in an even, conciliatory tone, his face mirroring the sincerity of his words. Cait shivered. His voice—made her feel as if a cat were caressing her flesh with its rough tongue. Gone was the stone-like rage from the sculptured planes of his face. Instead his eyes were warm and—did she see hesitancy? Why? It certainly wasn’t fear. Dominic was afraid of nothing and no one.
    The sound of the cork popping and the gurgle of wine hitting the bottom of the cups drew her back to the present. He offered her a drink. “Truce?”
    Cait took the cup. Their fingers touched, and a jolt of electric shock flowed up her arm. She froze for only a second, caught off guard by the coaxing tone in his voice. Taking a quick swallow, she nodded.
    “Fair enough,” she agreed, her voice suddenly low.
    The friction that had bound them disappeared like