Wild Rain Read Online Free PDF Page A

by injecting as much dripping sarcasm into the words as possible.
    “It’s not like you’re going anywhere,” he muttered.
    Before she could respond, he reached behind the seat and heaved one of the trash bags into her lap. “You take this and I’ll take croc watch.”
    “American alligator,” she corrected as she grabbed the knotted plastic. “And as long as you don’t get between her and her egg mound, she won’t bother you.”
    His answer was a grunt just before he slid out of the truck. Jillian climbed out quickly and toted the bag toward the gate. Any part of her that hadn’t been soaked before became instantly so now. Thescreaming wind pushed her into a stumbled run. They both reached for the gate at the same time. Slammed into it actually.
    “Move back and I’ll open it!” he yelled over the wind.
    It was a measure of how much the gales had increased that he was standing two inches from her and she’d read his lips more than heard the words.
    “Fine!” she yelled back. She saw him reach for the gun at his waist. “No guns!” He glared at her as they shoved their way through the gate, prompting a dry smile. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you!”
    His scowl deepened, proving he was as good at reading lips as she was.
    As best she could in the darkening gloom, Jillian scanned the grounds near the small pond Cleo had staked out shortly after her arrival. She could just barely make out the dark form of the alligator hovering over the huge pile of leaves, twigs, and debris she’d laboriously scraped into a three-foot-high pile to incubate her eggs.
    Another gust buffeted her against the large man at her side, pulling her thoughts from Cleo and her nestlings to more immediate problems. Sending a silent prayer—one of many—Cleo’s way, she hunched down and pushed toward the enclosed back porch.
    The rain was being driven by the wind into horizontal slashes making it difficult to do much more than squint. Jillian lunged for the screened door to the back porch. A gust caught her just as she wasabout to push through, jerking her back until she tottered precariously on the top step. A sudden shove sent her snapping forward.
    The trash bag went flying, with her landing in an ignominious heap on top of it a second later. She rolled to her left, fearing she’d be crushed if he fell on top of her, then became quickly tangled in the contents of the bag which had split open on impact.
    A loud thud echoed next to her in the space she’d narrowly vacated. Swearing followed, his accent thickening to the point of making him almost impossible to understand. She was too busy wrestling with whatever it was she’d become entangled in to care.
    Suddenly, a large tan hand reached for her. She leaned away automatically, but he just pulled at whatever had tangled on her head, freeing it with a short snap.
    “Here,” he said, handing it to her. “Though I don’t see why you bother,” he muttered.
    A hot flush crept over her entire body as she took the bra he’d so gallantly offered. She told herself it was anger not humiliation that burned her skin, that she’d long ago come to terms with her underendowed figure. Besides which, the very last thing she wanted from him was
that
sort of attention. She was grateful he’d made his feelings on the subject clear. Grateful and relieved.
    And certainly not surprised.
    “Thank you,” she said in the ultrapolite toneshe’d been schooled in during her younger years. She hadn’t needed that particular skill in ages, but had to admit it came in handy just now. With the same studied dignity, she tucked the small white cotton bra under her arm and turned away to scoop up the rest of her belongings, already half-soaked by the rain slashing through the screened windows.
    For several long moments she sensed him looking at her as she wadded up the pile of clothing. “Didn’t your mother teach you it’s not nice to stare?” she muttered. He responded with the same stony