Wild Rain Read Online Free PDF

expression she was rapidly coming to think was his only alternative to scowling. The least he could do was help, she thought as she struggled to her feet, her own wet clothes making her motions awkward. “I thought you Brits were brought up with impeccable manners.”
    “I’m Australian.”
    She shot him a look. “Well, that explains it then.”
    His blue eyes widened.
    And what incredible eyes they were, she thought, distracted momentarily as she stared back at him. Clear and bright. And hard. As if all the soul had been leeched out.
    She wondered what had happened to him to make his eyes so empty. She wasted another second imagining what a decent smile would do to them, then snorted at the folly.
    Considering his temperament, she doubtedshe’d ever find out. Nor should she want to, she reminded herself.
    Jerking her gaze from his, she stepped forward and stumbled. He reacted instantly, steadying her with a firm grip. His hands felt huge on her. One hand wrapped well around her hip, his palm on her jutting hipbone, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her …
    She pulled away, wobbled, then straightened. “Thanks,” she said, chalking up the breathless quality of her voice to her struggle and not the feel of his hands on her backside.
    “We’d better get this stuff inside. I still have one window to cover and—”
    “Jillian.” His even voice cut her off.
    He had the oddest expression on his face. Almost as if he were in pain of some kind. The idea bothered her more than she cared to admit. After all, he’d toted her around like a rolled-up carpet for goodness sake. She should be happy to see him suffer.
    But it wasn’t in her to create suffering. She’d been on the receiving end enough for one lifetime. Maybe two. Now she worked long hours to alleviate pain. And doubly hard to avoid it herself.
    Besides, she told herself, determined not to soften toward him even the tiniest bit, he was far too big for a simple fall on the porch to hurt him. Too hardheaded to let it bother him if by some miracle it had. She turned back to her task, awayfrom those clear eyes that did strange things to her when he wasn’t bullying her or shouting orders.
    “Don’t just sit there,” she said shortly, “the least you can do after dragging me through the rain is to help. After all, it’s your hide on the line too.”
    “If you’d come with me when I’d asked, that wouldn’t be the case,” he reminded her.
    She pushed the kitchen door open and dumped the heap of clothes on the counter. Turning back, she found him still sitting on her porch, staring at her. The sight of his big brawny body sitting casually amongst her underwear should have been amusing. Instead it twisted something inside her chest. The image of that same big body, all tanned muscles and streaked blond hair, tangled up in lemon-yellow sheets—her lemon-yellow sheets—tumbled through her mind before she could shut it out.
    “I didn’t ask to be rescued,” she said tightly. “That was your idea. But now that you’re here, you can turn off the electricity.” She turned for the door. “The fuse box is in the pantry off the kitchen.”
    Not giving him time to answer, she headed to the front hall to get her slicker, mentally shutting off electricity of an entirely different—but just as dangerous—sort.
    It occurred to her that putting on her rain gear now was somewhat pointless, but she shoved her arms into the sleeves anyway. The wind made therain needle-sharp and this would give her at least a measure of protection.
    “I’ll put the window covers on.”
    Jillian whirled around to find Reese standing just behind her. He was also soaked, but somehow his sodden khaki vest jacket, black T-shirt, and faded jeans made him seem that much bigger, that much more masculine. Her pulse leapt into double time along with her heart. She half expected the air around him to crackle and hiss.
    “No … I mean, thanks, but getting them into the track is