Hers for the Holidays. Samantha Hunter
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Lydia interrupted him again with a direct look. “Why don’t you head back down to the bunkhouse, and I’ll see you in the morning.”
Ely’s gaze narrowed on her, but he didn’t say a word.
Lydia’s pretty mouth flattened into a line of displeasure as she looked at Kyle.
“So I did see you earlier,” she said. “In town.”
He nodded.
“You do know each other? From back east?” Kyle asked, still not moving.
“That’s right.” Exhausted, her hand throbbing, Lydia felt a chill travel over her skin. She was clad only in the robe she had put on after undressing, having become distracted by her thoughts and cleaning out the closet. Pulling the fabric more tightly around herself, she was aware of being far too exposed, especially with Ely pressing against her leg as he bandaged her hand. She shivered.
“We’re...friends, yes. It’s okay, Kyle, really. Goodnight.”
Kyle nodded, grabbed his rifle and headed back out the door. Lydia shook her head as Ely packed up the small first-aid kit and returned it to the cabinet. She took the moment to test her legs and stood up, feeling steadier, as she glanced around.
“I can’t believe someone would do this,” she said, more to herself than to him. Bowls and dishes that had been on the counter were broken all over the floor—it was a miracle that she hadn’t cut herself when she had went running through the kitchen after her intruder.
“What’s been going on, Lydia? You just pick up and leave Philly, and now you’re being harassed, twice in one night?”
Something about his making demands quickly set her spine on edge. She turned, nailing him with a glare.
“I think you’re the one who has some explaining to do. How did you know where I lived, and how come you were here so late at night? Have you been following me?”
“I only got here yesterday, but it was enough time to check the town records, yes, and find out where you lived.”
“I don’t live here.”
“You did,” he challenged. “Why the big secret?”
She swallowed, overly aware of him as they stood facing each other, the slight swath of cotton that she wore hardly enough to make her feel adequately covered. He seemed to notice as well, his eyes taking her in briefly before returning to her face. He didn’t say anything, but she saw the flicker of memory, of desire. Her body responded as well, her chill wearing off as her blood heated a little. She ignored it.
“I have to get dressed and take care of this mess.”
“You’re really not going to report the break-in?”
She didn’t respond, walking out of the room, leaving Ely behind. Maybe he’d take the hint and leave.
Probably not. She heard a cupboard open and close, and it sounded like he was starting to clean up.
Great. The last thing she needed right now was Ely trying to be her white knight.
She took a few minutes to get her bearings and to get some clothes on. She also had to process the fact that Ely Berringer was down in her kitchen, as real as the day was long, all sexy, muscle-bound, six-foot-something of him. The universe sure did enjoy toying with her.
If she thought her life was complicated an hour ago, now that word had taken on an entirely new meaning.
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