Summon Toren (Archangels Creed #3) by Azure Boone, Kenra Daniels Read Free Book Online Page B

shed had frozen and Sam wrestled with it until Toren came to help. The frozen metal gave under his big hand as if it were no more than a paperclip. The man went on to prove himself extraordinarily helpful, following her instructions to the letter and without question. So helpful that the big hay bales were set up in record time and they were finished and ready to go on to the next hay barn in half the normal time.
    They kept to the lee of the barn on the way to the truck to stay out of the full force of the wind. "You want to drive?" She couldn't help feeling odd for driving with a man in the truck. Any time she wanted to take the wheel, she had to count on the men liking her even if they didn't respect her. Far better than having to assert her position as the heiress and future boss.
    He gave her a quizzical look. "I can if you'd like, but I don't need to. I don't feel emasculated riding while you drive or anything." He grinned. "Some guys do, I reckon, but they're coverin' some inadequacy. I don't have any of those."
    A chill shuddered down her spine to hear her thoughts expressed in his roughened silk voice. Especially when the thoughts came directly from her own private philosophy of male psychology. "Um, okay. Really strange you'd say that."
    "Oh?" He climbed into the truck's passenger seat and stretched his long legs as far as the truck allowed. The dome light clearly illuminated a perfect dark brow arched as if in question.
    Sam clicked her seatbelt in place. "I've thought the exact same thing myself."
    "That I don't have any shortcomings that need to be hidden?" Both his expression and inflection said he wasn't quite sure if she were serious or joking.
    Sam tilted her head a little, as if that would help her understand him. Either he was unbelievably conceited or profoundly lacking in some vital social element. "You're kidding? I hope? I know nothing about your inadequacies, nor do I want to." She concentrated on keeping her voice icily correct.
    Serious discussion with the man seemed to be a colossal waste of time. No matter, as long as he did what she needed him to. She put the truck in gear and pulled onto the rough track that would take them to the next hay shed a few miles away on another tract of land.
    The going was slow when they drew near. Small bunches of cattle, recognizing the truck as a feed delivery system, began to drift along behind them. She cut their speed so the cattle could keep up. The more the animals were gathered, the better their chances of survival.
    Finally they rounded the shoulder of the low forested hill and came within view of the shed. An odd glow surrounded the steel frame building—not really a building, just a slanted roof on steel support posts and secured with woven fencing around the sides to protect the hay from lazy stock. Sam floored the accelerator, a sick greasy feeling creeping over her. That glow didn't come from anything good.
    Toren straightened in his seat and looked closely toward the light. "Fire?"
    "That's what it looks like."
    The man actually had the sense to stay silent.
    She skidded the truck around the side of the shed and ground to a stop, the tires throwing snow in a huge arc. Shoving her door open, she jumped from the truck before it came to a full halt and hit a dead run for the blaze.
    Flames licked all along the flank of the shed, creeping along the exposed side of the hay. It hadn't been burning long enough to penetrate the tightly packed interior of the bales, so if they could get it extinguished, most of the hay would be saved.
    Toren's feet pounded the frozen ground right behind her, then a big hand settled on her shoulder and propelled her downward with enough force to drop a steer.
    "What the hell?" she growled as she spun out of his hold.
    "Samantha, you can't run straight into a fire with no plan. Sixty seconds won't make a difference to the fire, but it might keep you alive." His silver eyes flashed and the easy-going guy was gone, replaced by a