Mistletoe & Mayhem. Lori Wilde
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his way across the attic as close to the eaves as he could get. He would only trigger the trap if he actually walked directly across the attic floor.
Whirling, Jodie hurried to the fireplace and carefully lifted the poker from its stand. Then she frowned. What in the world was she going to do with it? She wasn’t going to hit Billy Rutherford any more than she would have shot him if Hank Jefferson had sold her that gun. He might bleed. Even as she shuddered, the floor creaked again.
Straightening her shoulders, Jodie tightened her grip on the poker and whipped it in a wide circle. The great thing about a poker was that you could actually poke people with it—or at least threaten to. In her mind, she pictured Captain Hook. She would just make Billy walk across the floor to the spot where the rope would snap him up.
For a moment, Jodie stood still, visualizing her plan. Then shouldering the poker like a rifle, she walked to the door. Someone was up in the attic, and she was going to get him.
The moment she stepped into the hallway, the silence seemed to deepen. She waited for a moment, listening hard. The sound of a passing car couldn’t penetrate this far into the house.
Overhead, there was silence too. Holding her breath, she edged her way down the hallway. When she reached the door to the attic stairs, it stood wide open. Once more, her heart jumped to her throat, fluttering there like a bird. She clearly remembered closing the door before she’d gone to bed. Could Billy have climbed in through the window and avoided her trap, then snuck down the stairs? Slowly, she turned. Was he even now lurking somewhere in the shadows?
This time the creak sounded like a shot. Letting out the breath she was holding, she whirled back to the stairs. He was still in the attic. Keeping to the very edge of the steps, she climbed them one by one.
The darkness only lessened a little as she approached the top. The moonlight that managed to push its way through the grime on the windows made little headway into the gloom. Pausing on the top step, she counted to ten as she listened.
Nothing. She stepped carefully onto the attic floor, and suddenly a hand clamped over her mouth, and an arm banded around her waist, immobilizing her.
As panic streamed through her, she ordered herself to think. Billy? She had to let him know it was her. But the moment she tried to move, she felt herself gripped even more tightly against a hard, male body. Mixed with the fear was a sudden awareness of how strong those arms were, how callused those fingers. Not Billy’s soft hands, she thought. And not Billy’s scent. Suddenly the memory of what had happened earlier at the lake flooded through her. She recalled Shane’s hand resting along the side of her face, Shane’s mouth pressed lightly but firmly against hers until she couldn’t think of anything, anyone but…It was Shane!
“The window.” The words were barely a breath in her ear.
Narrowing her eyes, she peered through the gloom. Something seemed to be blocking what little light she’d noticed before. Wood scraped against wood as the window slid upward, and she could just make out a silhouette as it climbed into the room.
“Stay.”
Shane released her so quickly she nearly dropped the poker. Because the shadow at the window was the only one she could make out, Jodie kept her eyes on it. A board moaned under the eaves. The shadow froze. Holding her breath, she counted to ten while the silence stretched. The moment the next board creaked, the shadow whirled toward it and suddenly there were two silhouettes locked together. The silence shattered as they pitched to the floor.
There was the sickening sound of a fist pounding into flesh and a series of grunts as the two figures rolled. A chair toppled and something rattled across the floor. Then the two figures rose again, blocking the light. She had to do something to help. Keeping as close to the eaves as she could, she edged her way toward the window. Glass shattered as they toppled a lamp. Poker raised, Jodie moved closer.
She dodged to the right when they rolled toward her. First one was on top, then the other. Which one was the intruder? Even as she hesitated, they rolled again, this time in the direction of the circle of rope.
The snare trap. Should she call a warning? Before she could open her mouth, a figure rose and staggered toward the window.
It had to be Billy. Shane wouldn’t be trying to get away. In the time it took her to decide, the man had swung both legs over the sill and was gone. Jodie raced toward him.
Suddenly, there was a zinging sound, as if the string on a guitar had snapped. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the other man suddenly pitch to the floor.
“What the—” Shane ended the thought in a grunt as he shot feetfirst toward the ceiling.
It occurred to her that it was just as she’d visualized it, then she threw herself at the other man who was halfway out the window.
“Stop.” She grabbed at his arm as he reached for a tree limb. A shove sent her reeling into the eaves. As she scrambled to her feet, she saw Shane begin to swing forward, but the man was out of his reach when the rope pulled him back. She made it to the window in time to grab a foot. A mistake, she thought as it kicked her to the floor.
The rafters creaked ominously as she once more lunged toward the window. Leaning out, she saw the man, climbing along the limb of the maple tree. She threw one leg over the sill and leaned forward, reaching. A few more inches and…teetering, she stretched more and grabbed air just as a pair of hands clamped around her waist and jerked her back into the attic.
“Let me go. I can—”
“What? Break your neck?”
“I won’t.” She twisted one way, then another, but the hands gripping her were like a steel vise.
“You damn near toppled out that window.”
“I almost had him. I can still…” Desperate, she tried to pry Shane’s fingers loose. He relaxed his hold just enough to turn her around so she faced him. Jodie found that, even though he was hanging upside down, she was looking almost directly into his eyes. “Will you please let me go? He’s getting away.”
“Thanks to you. I’d have had him in handcuffs right now if you hadn’t interrupted.”
“I didn’t interrupt. You interfered. If you hadn’t, he’d have been swinging from his feet now instead of you.”
“Let’s postpone the debate until you get me down from this thing.”
She tried backing away. His grip on her tightened. “I’ll come back just as soon—”
“Forget it. Until you cut me loose, we’re Siamese twins.”
They might as well have been. They were so close, Jodie could feel his breath on her cheek and see the glint of anger in his eyes. But it wasn’t fear that arrowed down her spine as her gaze moved to his mouth. All she could do was think—if he kissed her now, his lips wouldn’t be soft and gentle as they had been down at the lake. And they wouldn’t be patient. They would be demanding, hot and potent.
She felt his hands grow tighter, felt her own desire curl tight within her. But she wasn’t going to kiss Shane Sullivan again. She couldn’t. It wasn’t possible to kiss a man while he was hanging upside down. Was it?
Perhaps, if he angled his head just right, and she angled hers…
Light flooded the attic. Footsteps thundered up the stairs.
“Jodie, are you all right?” Sophie led the way. Both she and Irene held their pokers at the ready as they crested the top of the attic steps.
“Good girl. Caught our prowler, I see,” Sophie said, but she stopped short when she caught a glimpse of Shane. “You’re not our prowler.” She glanced at Jodie. “Let’s get him down. Did Clyde show you how to unspring this thing or should I go back downstairs and get a knife?”
“There’s a lever,” Jodie said and decided to ignore the fact that Shane didn’t release her as she walked toward it. The distrust between them was obviously mutual,