Bea by Peggy Webb Read Free Book Online Page A

shut the door, he gave her one last order. “Don’t move, and don’t you dare put on your boots.”
    He slammed the door shut for emphasis and stalked to his tool box where he kept everything that mattered, his tackle box, his first aid kit, a spare set of keys. Except for that slip about her body being beautiful, he’d maintained the aloofness he’d wanted. Of course, he shouldn’t have carried her, either, but that didn’t count. Nothing counted till he put his hand on her leg and saw how dangerously close he was to running it up that short little skirt of hers.
    He jerked the first aid kit out of his toolbox and stalked back to the truck. No way in heaven or hell was he going to rub salve all over her foot. It was too damned dangerous.
    When he opened the door, she jumped as if she’d been shot.
    “Here.” He thrust the antibiotic and a box of Band-Aids at her. “Apply the salve generously, then cover it.”
    She made quick work of the chore. He wanted not to notice, but he couldn’t help himself. He had always loved a woman’s bare feet. Bea had a tiny blue vein in the arch of her foot that made her look fragile and vulnerable. He focused on that small patch of blue.
    Doggone the luck, she turned and caught him looking.
    “All set?” His voice betrayed nothing.
    “Yes.”
    “Then I think we can get going. The truck should be cool by now.” He turned the key, and the truck came to life. With the sky darkening and Bea sitting in silence with her bare feet tucked under her, they continued down the mountain.
    The radio had started playing as soon as Russ had turned the key. He turned it off.
    “Thank you.” Bea gave him a small smile.
    “You’re welcome.”
    The first drop of rain spattered against the windshield. Bea watched it with a sort of detachment. She was aware of only two things: the soothing feel of the salve on her toe and the tremendous sexual magnetism of the man sitting beside her.
    “It’s raining,” she commented, still not really paying much attention to the weather.
    “The sky is dark.”
    “Hmm.”
    They drove in silence. The rain fell in a fine sprinkle. Then without warning, the sky opened and rain beat so hard against the windshield, Russ could barely see.
    Bea leaned forward, hugging herself and trying to see through the downpour. Lord, don’t let it thunder, she said to herself. Don’t let lightning streak the sky. She was scared to death of thunderstorms. Had been since she was born, she guessed. It was a foolish weakness that she wasn’t proud of, and she certainly didn’t want to display any more weaknesses before Russ Hammond.
    Russ braked the truck, catching Bea’s attention.
    “My clothes!” Bea said suddenly, looking out the back window. Her suitcase was only a shadow seen darkly through the curtain of rain.
    “What?” Russ leaned forward, straining to see.
    “My clothes will be soaked. You have to stop.”
    “They’re already wet.”
    “You don’t know that. I have a good, tight suitcase.”
    “This is a good, hard rain. You don’t need to be out in it.”
    “I want you to stop this truck.”
    “You are the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met. You’ll get soaked.”
    “It’s my body.”
    He glanced at her. In the gray light, her face was set in the determined lines he’d come to know so well. He kept going.
    “It’s also my money.”
    His jaw tightened. Without another word, he pulled over to the side of the road. She jerked open her door and swung her legs down. He grabbed her around the waist and hauled her back into the truck. Then he leaned over her and slammed the door shut.
    “What do you think you’re doing?” she asked.
    “I don’t have any remedies for pneumonia in my duffle bag.” He took his handkerchief out of his pants pocket and wiped the water off her legs. A muscle twitched in the side of his jaw. “If you want to get soaked and catch your death of cold, you can wait until you get home to do it.”
    She sat with her back