Why These Two Read Online Free PDF

He started walking. She’d say she allowed it, but that was a lie.
    “Where you going?”
    “Damage control.”
    “You’re going outside?”
    “Yeah.”
    “With her?”
    “Yeah.”
    “It’s below freezing out there.”
    “Good,” Darryl answered, and walked out the door with her.
    St. Moritz was known for its snow, its skiing, and its setting. Alpine peaks were silhouetted against a winter sky containing uncountable stars. A half moon. Wisps of clouds. The view was a bit hazy and indistinct due to the frosted air. If she looked, she’d see the frozen outline of the lake. Light from the buildings bounced off pristine snow. It was actually easier to see out here than in the club.
    He put her down. Her boots settled into a knee deep snow bank and she shuffled her feet for a bit before finding decent footing. He hadn’t waited. He’d stepped back to the plowed section; crossed his arms over his chest and stood, looking down at her with an enigmatic expression. It was definitely cold. And he was definitely feeling it. She watched his breath fog about his face, while little pinpricks showed his nipples reacting beneath his turtleneck sweater. He should probably have grabbed an overcoat. Or fastened his jacket.
    “All right, Lady. Start talking.”
    His voice was gruff. But it trembled. Reika sucked in her cheeks and regarded him for a bit before answering.
    “The name is Reika.”
    “What’s your last name?”
    “I don’t have one.”
    “Bullshit.”
    So. He was going to try the hard line with her. She’d seen enough cop films and read enough cheap novels to know the ploy when she heard it. It was amusing. She had to force a look of seriousness to her face.
    “Fine. My father was a barrel maker. Call me that.”
    “What the hell does that mean?”
    “Back when they decided everyone needed surnames, they usually gave the lower classes the names of their occupations. Baker. Smithy. Brewer. Miller. My father was the village barrel maker.”
    “Your last name is Barrel Maker?”
    “No. I already told you I don’t have one. But if you insist, you can call me Cooper. A barrel maker is a cooper.”
    “Fine. Miss Cooper. You wanted me out here. You wanted to talk. So I suggest you start talking. The night is not getting any younger. And it is not getting any warmer out here.”
    “You’re a pain in the ass. Did you know that, Darryl Bailes?”
    “Never said different, now did I?”
    She laughed. He was starting to shiver. It affected his words. And his tone. Poor man.
    “Take me inside someplace cozy then.”
    “What?”
    “That was your offer, wasn’t it?”
    “When?”
    “I spare Miss Fancy Pants in there, and you’d take me some place nice. Yes?”
    “Maybe.”
    “I think you also added in small . Supremely…private. And I believe you tossed in cozy. I think I’d like it very cozy.”
    She drew out each word, adding warmth and watching his trembling increase.
    “This is cozy enough,” he replied finally.
    She laughed again.
    “Look Lady. Start talking or I’m walking.”
    “You are a very hard nut to crack, Bailes.”
    “Nobody offered…that.”
    His teeth were starting to chatter. It sounded through the words.
    “Oh come along, Darryl. Stop the hard ass routine. You called the terms. Now live by them.”
    “Why do you think I’m standing out here freezing my ass off? I’m still waiting for you to start talking.”
    “I’m sorry you’re cold. I know the warmest, coziest, little inn…with the biggest, deepest hot tub…”
    “You finished?”
    She laughed again. He was very cute. Quick-witted. Stubborn.
    “You want to get to the point? Before we both freeze?”
    “I’m not remotely cold, Darryl.”
    “Yeah. Right.”
    He moved his glance to where her nipples were well outlined by the leather bodice. It took a bit before he moved his view back to her face. Reika’s smile broadened.
    “That isn’t chill,” she informed him.
    “Has to be. You’re wearing half what I am.