The Heart Has Reasons by Martine Marchand Read Free Book Online Page A

Not taking her eyes from him, she
reached her free hand behind her and fumbled with the lock.  When she
turned the knob, the door opened several inches before catching up short on the
security chain.  Anger and frustration flashed in her eyes as she closed
it again.  Stepping slightly to the side, her glance flicked to the door.
    The
soft snick of a safety going off jerked her eyes back to him and her
pupils dilated wildly at seeing the Colt .45 aimed at her chest.  “Touch
that fucking chain and I’ll put a round in you.”
    Her
throat worked hard to swallow.  “If you shoot me, someone will hear.”
    “They
probably will,” he agreed.  “But you’ll be dead and, before anyone has
time to investigate, I’ll be gone.”
    When
he took a cautious step toward her, her entire body tensed as she prepared to
hurl the knife.  He kept his voice calm and steady.  “The blade’s dull
and the knife itself doesn’t have the weight required for sufficient
penetration.  Even if you actually manage to draw my blood, all it’s going
to do is piss me off.  But in the meantime this forty-five will have blown
a great big hole in you.”  He slowly continued toward her, his eyes locked
on her throwing arm, his muscles tense and ready to dodge the instant she
threw.  When he was nearly within arm’s reach of her, he slowly extended
his left hand.  “Are you that eager to die?”
    Losing
her resolve, she reluctantly lowered her arm and placed the wooden haft on his
palm.  Pitching the knife onto the table, he returned the .45 to his
waistband in the small of his back, backed her against the door, and relocked
it.  Leaning one forearm on the battered wood, he loomed over her. 
“Never bring a knife to a gun fight.”
    Simmering
fury brought a flash of color to her cheeks.  Up close, he could see that
her eyes weren’t the solid green he’d originally assumed.  The background
color was green, but twin starbursts of luminous golden rays ringed her pupils,
extending almost to the iris rims, which were a darker blue-green.  Her
spirit and courage were so goddamned sexy that he had the sudden urge to press
her against the door and taste those sexy lips.
    Then
a pair of tears spilled over to trickle down her cheeks, dousing his
ardor.  Jesus, what the hell was he thinking?  Not only was this
woman his prisoner, she was Keswick’s wife.  Slightly chagrined, he took a
step back and slipped a hand under the ski mask to rub his jaw, hearing the
rasp of whiskers against his calloused palm.  “Don’t cry.”
    She
angrily dashed tears away with the back of one hand.  “I’m not crying!”
    “Everyone’s
entitled to one mistake, so I’ll let this one go unpunished.  Don’t do anything
else stupid, and everything’ll be fine.”  When he reached up to brush a
stray strand of hair from her face, she slapped his hand away, pushed past him,
and stalked toward the bathroom.
    Unable
to suppress a smile, he called after her, “Leave the door open.”  When she
paused in the doorway, her back to him and shoulders visibly tense, he added,
“I won’t watch, but I need to be able to hear if you try to open the window —
and I will hear it.”
    Muttering
what sounded like aspersions on his character, she disappeared into the
bathroom where, in a blatant challenge to his authority, she left the door
cracked a mere two inches.  Ah, hell.  Women were sensitive about
such matters, so he decided to let it pass.  As he lowered the volume on
the television, he thought about how she’d threatened him with the knife. 
No doubt, if given the chance, she’d have used it.
    Despite
her obvious fear, she was handling the situation much better than he would have
expected.  In a similar predicament, Cheyenne would’ve been in complete
and utter hysterics.
    Of
course, there was still time for that.

CHAPTER
6
     
     
     
    Larissa kept her eyes on the door’s
narrow opening, expecting her kidnapper’s ski-masked face to slide