ChasetheLightning by Madeline Baker Read Free Book Online Page B

inquisitively.
    “Here’s your dinner.” Embarrassed at having been caught
staring at him, she deposited the tray, none too gently, on his lap.
    “What the hell!” he exclaimed.
    “Sorry,” she muttered. “Can I get you anything else?”
    He glanced at the tray. “How about something to drink? Beer,
if you’ve got it.”
    She tapped a finger on the top of the can. “What do you
think that is?”
    Frowning, Trey picked up the gray container, which was
similar to a tin can but lighter somehow, with a fragile feel to it. When he
gripped it, his fingers sank into the metal. It was cold, almost icy to the
touch. The words “Natural Light” were printed in blue and red letters and below
that, in very small print, the words, “Beer…brewed for a naturally smooth
taste.”
    “Don’t tell me you’ve never seen a can of beer before?”
    “Can’t say as I have.” Trey studied the woman, Amanda, for a
moment. He had never seen a woman who looked quite like her, either. Her lips
were too pink to be natural. The long-sleeved shirt she wore looked like
something a man would wear, but there was nothing masculine about the way it
hugged her body, outlining the curves of her breasts. And those trousers… He
swallowed hard. Had she been wearing a short red dress and black stockings, he
would have said she was a tart, but she didn’t act like one, or talk like one.
If she had been for sale, he would have paid for her time in a heartbeat. Just
thinking about it aroused him, making him grateful for the tray across his lap.
    He met her gaze, felt the unmistakable sizzle of attraction
that passed between them.
    Her gaze slid away from his. “You’d better eat it while it’s
hot,” she suggested. “I’ll be back later for the tray.”
    Damn, but she looked good walking away. He spent a
pleasurable moment watching her leave the room, then looked down at the can in
his hand. How the devil did she expect him to open it?
    He ran his finger over the top of the can, grunted softly
when his fingernail caught in a small metal ring. He gave a tug, and, to his
surprise, there was a small hiss and an opening appeared leaking a small
dribble of foam. He could smell the hops. He lifted the can to his lips, took a
drink, and almost spit it out. There was a weak beer taste, but the stuff was
watery, thin. He sure as hell wouldn't dignify it by calling it beer!
    Setting the can aside, he cut into the steak and took a bite.
Damn. The beer in this place was undoubtedly the worst he had ever tasted, but
the woman knew how to cook a steak.
    It had been a long while since he’d had a decent meal and he
savored this one. He’d never had beef this good in his life.
    With a sigh, he put the knife and fork down and set the tray
on the bedside table. Leaning back, he closed his eyes.
    He woke to the sound of rain on the roof. He figured the
woman had looked in on him while he slept, since the curtains were closed. That
strange bright white light from the hallway spilled into the room. She had removed
the dirty dishes from the tray on the bedside table and left a bowl with an
apple and an orange, a glass of cold water, and a small knife with a blade that
might cut through butter but not much else.
    Feeling a whisper of warm air, he frowned. He didn’t recall
there being a fireplace in the room. And there wasn’t. Turning over, he
searched for the source of warm air. It seemed to be coming from some sort of
vent in the wall up near the ceiling.
    He heard angry voices coming from the other room. A man and
a woman, arguing. The sound of a woman’s scream, a gunshot. He bolted from the
bed. Damn, where was his gun when he needed it? He glanced at the knife
disdainfully. It wasn’t much, but it was the only thing that resembled a weapon
in the room. Grabbing it from the tray, he moved as quickly as he could into
the parlor. He glanced around the room, looking for the shooter, but there was
no one in the room save for the woman. She was seated on