Caught by Surprise by Deborah Smith Read Free Book Online Page B

vaulted out of the car with a fluid, athletic movement. He watched quietly, feeling troubled, as she went inside without another word, then turned his attention to his surroundings. Her house sat at the endof a long, graveled driveway in the midst of an old, old forest. It was a lovely place but somehow strange.
    He finally determined why. The telephone and electrical lines were underground. Except for the car’s presence and the asphalt roof shingles, he might have been looking back through time at least a hundred years.
    Brig was inside the backyard shed when she brought him a pair of gloves. “Here, McKay.” she ordered, and thrust them at him.
    Without looking up from a box full of carpentry tools, he replied in a low, firm voice, “Use my first name or it’s no go.”
    “I don’t have the time or the patience to argue with you. All right. Here, Brig.”
    He took the gloves, then looked her straight in the eyes. “And be civil to me. I’m sorry John Washington laughed at your name, but I’m still gonna call you Melisande, because I like it and it suits you. And if you thought of yourself as a Melisande, pretty soon other people would too.”
    This aura of cool authority was a new angle to his personality, one that made her gaze back at him speechlessly. “Call me what you like,” she finally managed to say. “I’ve given up trying to get your cooperation.”
    “You’ve got my cooperation. And my respect,
and
my friendship. Quit treatin’ me like a croc who’s about to gobble you alive.”
    “Quit flirting with me then.”
    “Melisande, m’dear, flirtin’ is ingrained in my nature. But that doesn’t mean I’m an Ocker gone troppo.”
    “A
what?
”
    He rubbed his head and thought for a moment. “A daffy redneck. I’m not gonna pounce on you like a kangaroo with an itch.” He paused. “Not right away, at least.”
    “That’s very reassuring,” she said dryly. Under her T-shirt her heart was racing. Just when
did
he plan to pounce on her? And what would she do about it? He was a prisoner and she was a law officer. She’d never forget that barrier. And she wasn’t his kind of woman—shedidn’t know whose kind of woman she was, anymore—but one thing was certain. She wasn’t going to get involved with a man who’d eventually leave Paradise Springs without looking back.
    “Can we get to work?” she asked bluntly.
    He smiled and looked at her through slitted, reproachful eyes. “
Please
.”
    “Can we get to work,
please
, your Australian highness?”
    “Righto, love.”
    They carried both hand and chain saws to the side of the house. Brig nestled the ladder between two enormous crepe myrtle bushes by the wall, bowed low, and swung a hand toward it. “You first, Melisande. I’ll catch you if you try to fly.”
    She curtsied, then climbed to the roof without faltering. Brig stood below and admired her beautiful round rump without the least bit of pretense. Millie knew it, and couldn’t manage to feel anything but giddy. When she reached the roof, she sat down and fanned herself furiously.
    Holding the hand saw, Brig climbed up beside her, then pulled the chain saw up with a rope before getting lithely to his feet and picking his way through the tangle of tree limbs to the point where the trunk had torn a hole in the roof. Millie followed carefully and stood beside him, gazing down.
    “Glory be,” he said in an awed tone. He bent over and braced his hands on both knees, all the time gazing at the gash in the roof. “This tells me what to expect. It’s gonna be interestin’.”
    “Is it so bad that it can’t be fixed?” she asked weakly. “Do you think I’ll have to replace the whole roof?”
    “Pink satin. You’ve got pink satin sheets. I can see ’em on your bed.”
    He began chuckling even before she slapped his shoulder and sputtered, “Concentrate on the roof, buster.” But when he turned to look at her, his expression was so affectionate that she smiled at