In Bed with the Enemy by Kathie DeNosky Read Free Book Online Page B

for the real perpetrator of the gun-smuggling ring. And he was damn tired of waiting around for them to figure it out.
    It was time to take some action. As soon as Yardley and his FBI chick left, Ricky had every intention of doing some investigating on his own.
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    Elise looked around the dining room of the Mission Creek Inn as she waited for the kindhearted innkeeper, Mrs. Carter, to seat her. She wouldn’t have bothered coming down for dinner, but the last six hours had taken their toll and she needed a break. From the time she’d returned to the inn around noon, she’d holed up in her room, going over pages and pages of computer printouts and adding endless columns of figures on balance sheets.
    â€œHoney, you look like you could use some good old-fashioned home cookin’,” Mrs. Carter said, motioning for Elise to follow. “How does a chicken-fried steak, red-eye gravy, a big old heap of mashed potatoes and some sourdough bread with homemade butter sound?”
    â€œFattening,” Elise murmured. To the grandmotherly Mrs. Carter, she said, “I’m really not that hungry.”
    â€œNonsense,” the woman said, pointing to a table with a red-checkered tablecloth. “You have a seat there and I’ll fix you right up.”
    Elise started to protest that she’d prefer a salad, but one look at the woman’s face and she knew it would be pointless to argue. Some women were just the mothering type. Mrs. Carter was one of them.
    Resigned to having to run an extra mile the next morning in order to work off the extra calories, she nodded. “That will be fine, Mrs. Carter.”
    Apparently satisfied that she’d get to feed Elise, Mrs. Carter started to walk toward the kitchen, then turned back. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’m going to have to seat another guest at your table this evening.”
    Looking around, Elise frowned. There were ten tables in the tiny dining room and only three were being used. “No, I don’t mind, Mrs. Carter. But—”
    â€œOh, there’s your dinner partner now,” Mrs. Carter said, bustling off toward the entrance. When she returned, the woman had Caveman Cole in tow. “I think you’ve met Miss Campbell, haven’t you, Mr. Yardley?”
    â€œYes, ma’am,” Cole answered, looking as confused as Elise felt. “We’re acquainted.”
    â€œWonderful.” Mrs. Carter pointed to the empty chair. “You have a seat and I’ll be back in just a minute with your meal.”
    As the woman hurried off to the kitchen, Cole looked even more confused. “But I haven’t ordered yet.”
    Elise shook her head as Cole seated himself across from her. “Don’t bother. I tried to tell her that I’d like a salad, but she’s bringing me a fried steak, mashed potatoes and gravy. And I suspect you’ll get the same.”
    His deep chuckle sent a tremor coursing through her. “Did you ask her to seat me at your table?”
    â€œHardly.” Taking a sip of water, she tried to ignore the sudden quickening of her pulse as his knees bumped hers beneath the small table. “Did you ask to sit with me?”
    He shook his head. “I think—”
    â€œWe’re being set up.”
    Grinning, he nodded. “I do believe dear Mrs. Carter has a romantic streak.”
    â€œOh, great. She’s not only trying to fatten me up, she’s trying to fix me up.”
    â€œAnd with a caveman, no less,” he added, his charming expression curling her toes.
    â€œWell, I do suppose it could be worse,” she said, unable to stop her own smile.
    â€œSure it could. I could be a caveman with lousy table manners.” His grin widened as he held out his hands for her inspection. “But, as you can see, my hands are clean. I only dragged my knuckles a couple of times on the way down here for dinner.”
    Elise stared at his large hands.