Wild Rain Read Online Free PDF Page B

tricky.”
    The corners of his mouth twisted. Sardonic grin or grimace. It was hard to tell with him. The expression never seemed to reach those soulless eyes.
    “I think I can handle it. Where are the metal sheets?”
    Guessing from his earlier tenacity that arguing would only waste valuable time, she sighed and answered him. “Under the back porch.”
    “Flashlight?”
    “In a cardboard box on the counter in the kitchen. There’s also propane and battery-operated lanterns, extra batteries, and some small propane tanks.”
    He nodded and headed down the hall.
    “Do you want a slicker or something?” she called after him, unable to look away from the way his wet vest showcased the difference in width between his broad shoulders and narrow waist.
    “Hardly any need at this point.” He paused inthe kitchen, and she could hear him rummaging through the boxes as she peeled her raincoat off and hung it up.
    He looked up as she entered the kitchen. “Here’s the battery lantern. Turn it on before you shut off the power.”
    She took it from him, careful not to brush her fingers against his, feeling foolish when the metal handle didn’t spark under her fingertips. His instructions annoyed her and she was tempted to tell him she wasn’t an idiot, but considering her reaction to him just now, she didn’t want to chance having him argue that point.
    Expecting—mentally urging—him to leave, she bent her head to check the lantern out. When he remained standing in front of her, she reluctantly lifted her gaze to his.
    In the silent moment that followed, neither moved or spoke. The escalating noise of the storm began to make her heart pound again. At least, that’s what she told herself.
    “We should shut off the water,” he said finally. “Fill the tubs and sinks with water first, though.”
    “Done. I also have bleach on hand in case the water supply is contaminated and several coolers full of bottled water. I’ve prepared for storms before, Mr.—” She stopped abruptly as it occurred to her that during all the tumult she’d never even learned his name.
    “Braedon. Reese.”
    He rattled it off in a short, flat cadence that made her wonder if he was about to follow with rank and serial number. “Well, Mr. Braedon, I’ve lived here—”
    “Seeing as how I’ve been intimate with your underwear, I think you can call me Reese.”
    She refused to blush. He’d made it more than clear he found her underwear more practical than intimate. Which, of course, was precisely why she’d purchased it. She had no need for flimsy silk underthings that would fall apart at the first hint of usage. Nope. No use at all.
    “Maybe you’d better get outside before it gets worse.”
    He stared at her for another silent moment, then turned and went out the back door. Ridiculously, she felt a hollowness in the pit of her stomach. His brief, but thorough appraisal had made it clear that she’d come up as lacking in her choice of underthings. Any electricity she’d felt had been one-sided. The loud thwack of the screen door slamming against its frame startled her from her thoughts.
    It had been a long time since she’d had the slightest urge to measure herself on the surface scale of beauty. Physical perfection, and how one could use it to insure personal wealth and security, was her mother’s obsession, not hers. And goodness knows Regina had tallied up her daughter’s shortcomings often enough to compensate for both of them.
    Frowning, she shoved all thoughts of her mother to their usual far corner of her mind, then tucked her unusual reaction to Reese Braedon in another dark soon-to-be-forgotten corner and turned to the task of securing the rest of the house.

THREE
    Jillian reentered the kitchen and noticed the trash bag sitting on the floor. Reese must have picked up her clothes earlier. She hadn’t noticed. She’d been too preoccupied …
    Just then the back door blew open with a bang. Reese’s huge frame filled the