No Place Like Home. Robin Nicholas
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His calm after the storm infuriated her. “You almost got us killed!”
Frowning, he twisted off the remains of a broken antenna. “Another way you might look at it is that I saved both our a—”
Mariah knocked the antenna from his hand. “I think you drove us into that storm just to scare me.”
His angry gaze bore into hers. “I drove us out of that storm the only way I could. We had a close call, but believe me, it could have been worse.”
“All in a day’s work?”
“That’s right.”
The sun burned over them, warming already heated tempers, fueling underlying sparks before Rafe turned away, continuing a post-storm inspection she suspected he made on a regular basis. He was probably already planning his next chase.
And she wanted no part of it. Her near brush with death had come with a revelation. She knew why she wasn’t sleeping at night, why her work was lackluster, why she noticed children everywhere. She wanted a child, and a dependable man to love her.
She strode to the back of the truck. Her gaze blazed over Rafe, who was nothing like her dear old dad or her brother. “Take me back to my car. And don’t worry—I want nothing to do with writing your story.”
She gave him no chance to reply, stomping back to grasp the handle on the passenger door.
Her breath caught in her throat. Rafe stood at the edge of the highway, the incessant breeze tugging his hair, his clothes. He stared after the departing storm, clearly craving to give chase again.
He was crazy.
And she was crazy for wanting him.
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