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Authors: Down,Dirty

Sandra Hill (31 page)

BOOK: Sandra Hill
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Okay. Zach had been a player for too long not to recognize the message given by her particular smile. In the old days, they would have called it a “come hither” smile. He called it a “come on over here, cowboy, and let’s rodeo” smile.

He hesitated, then figured, “What the hell!” It was only a dance. He did in fact dance with her. Then he danced with her again, and again.

Sammy came over to ask him if he could stay overnight with a friend. As he stood talking to the boy, his hand wrapped around Francine’s waist, tucking her into his side. It felt good to be with a woman again. And she got along well with Sammy. Not that he was planning anything…yet. He and Francine were both laughing at Sammy’s long-winded explanation for why he really, really needed a dog.

In the midst of their laughter, he glanced across the room and saw a blonde woman dancing with a tall guy who had one arm around her waist, and her right hand held up to his chest in one of his hands. The woman matched the man in height, probably six feet tall. She was slim, but she filled out the tight jeans very well.

Then she turned.

And the blood drained from his skull.

It was Britta.

“Oh, my God!” He clutched Francine’s waist tighter.

Francine asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Sorry. I thought I just saw…”

“…a ghost?” She laughed.

“You could say that.” Zach’s heart was beating so fast he feared it might burst.

Then the woman, who resembled Britta, but couldn’t possibly be Britta, noticed him, and she stopped dead in her dancing shoes…boots.

He started to smile.

She bared her teeth. And then she bolted.

By the time Zach made his escape, rushing across the room and to the doorway, there was no one there. It couldn’t have been Britta. This woman had been pure Alaskan with her flannel shirt, heavy jeans, and boots. His eyes must have been playing games with him. Wishful thinking.

But he had no heart for the dance, or Francine, anymore. After going in to give permission for Sammy to stay with his friend, and saying his good-byes to a clearly disappointed Francine, he left the hall and headed for home.

He had thought before tonight that he was getting better, but he was right back to step one. He missed Britta so much he could almost cry.

And, yeah, there were tears in his eyes.

He almost hated her for how she’d ruined his life.

Almost.

Life does not always have happy endings…

Britta was so miserable and angry that she could scarce keep her balance as she stomped along the icy road, heading toward the Woolever home.

The lecherous, traitorous, slimy, fornicating maggot!

Here she was getting bigger by the day with his child, and he had his paws all over that woman’s body. A painful thought occurred to her.
Oh, my gods! Mayhap he has married the wench in the months since I have been gone.
That hurt.

Knuckling her eyes so that she could see better, she plodded on. She needed to get back to the Woolever home and make plans to leave as soon as possible. She could not stay within such close proximity to Zachary. She just could not.

Her heart felt as if it were being crushed.

It could have been someone else.

Hah! It was him.

Why would he leave the warm lands of California for this frigid place?

Arsallah. He must be hiding from Sammy’s grandfather.

He is not hiding that much, if he thinks naught of public displays of affection with a woman.

The randy cur cannot help himself. He is a man, after all, a prisoner to his lustsome inclinations.

I wonder if he gives her multiple orgasms.

Of course he does.

More tears flowed from her eyes. She had never been a weepy woman afore. It must be the pregnancy.

Which prompted her to reach inside her fur-lined cape and cradle her small belly.
It is just you and me now, baby. We must needs find a place in this new world.

Mayhap I can go to Hilda and ask her for help.

Nay, she would tell Zachary, and then he would feel obligated to come to me.

Not if he is married to another woman.

The headlights from a car came at her from behind, and she stepped farther off the road’s edge to give it room. After it passed, she continued her walk.

Once she was calmer, Britta had to admit that she wanted to be here in the future, even if it was alone, without Zachary. She fingered the amber pendant hanging from her neck…one of the few pieces of her mother’s jewelry that had been left at Everstead. Mayhap it could be exchanged for coin so that she could set up a home for her and the child. Far from Alaska.

Her heart was breaking, but that would pass, she promised herself. She was not about to sip the bane drink over the worthless whoreson. She had a child to think of. Enough!

Yea, that was what she would do. No pining after the clodpole. No contacting Hilda or Madrene…leastways not till after the babe was born. She was proud, and she was strong. She would survive.

A new chapter in her ever-chaotic life!

There are the bonds of love, and then there is BONDAGE…

Zach was halfway home when he passed the figure walking alongside the road. He should probably stop and offer a lift, but he was in no mood for company.

He had driven a mile farther when an unbelievable thought entered his mind. It was crazy. He was crazy. But still he turned his SUV around and headed back.

Yep, there was the person still walking along the berm of the road. Which was nuts with the slippery ice. But then, in the clearer focus of his headlights, he saw that it was a tall figure wearing a long black cloak with a hood, which seemed to be lined with fur. An odd garment, even for Alaska.

Holy crap, it was a woman, he realized, when a long strand of hair blew out of her hood. Blonde hair.

What did Sammy say about a woman in a long fur coat?

He felt almost light-headed as he drove a few yards past the woman, turned around, then came up alongside her. It was impossible to see exactly who it was. But his body was on red alert, and it had never let him down before.

The woman refused to even glance his way or slow down.

He pulled over to the side of the road and got out. Quickly he caught up with her.

“Britta!”

The woman didn’t even look at him but snarled, “Begone!”

Oh, my God! Oh, my God! It is Britta.
The how and why of it didn’t matter right now; he just knew that all his prayers had been answered. She was back.

“Britta, honey, you’re back. Thank God, you’re back.”

She muttered something that sounded like, “Slimy maggot.”

“Britta, stop, you’re giving me a stitch in my side.”

“I’d like to give you something, but it’s not a stitch.”

“What’s wrong? Why won’t you talk to me?” He was in front of her now, walking backward as he tried to see her face.

She refused to answer him.

“I have missed you so much.”

Still no response.

Finally, he caught her by the upper arms and made her look at him.

She was crying. For chrissake, she was out-and-out crying.

He didn’t even ask her what was wrong; he just pulled her into his arms and hugged her tightly, not loosening his hold, no matter how hard she squirmed. But then she wasn’t squirming anymore. But he was still holding her.

Leaning back to look at her, he said, “You’re back.”

“Smart-brained, as always.”

He ignored her sarcasm and gave her a quick kiss on the mouth before she could slap him. “Where have you been?”

“Where in bloody hell do you think I have been?”

“I thought you were dead.” He began to back her in the direction of his car. With the cold and the wind, she was shivering, even with that strange cloak. Or maybe she was shivering because of him. He could hope.

“Did Sammy get away?”

He nodded.

“Unharmed?”

“Perfectly unharmed, thanks to you.”

She made a harrumphing sound as if to dismiss his compliment. “Well, that is one good thing in this whole sorry mess.”

“I missed you so much, Britta. Honest to God, there were times I wanted to die, too.”

“Hah! You were not missing me much in there with your hands on that woman’s arse.”

Francine? She saw me with Francine
. “My hands were not on her ass. Besides, you were in the arms of a man, and I don’t like seeing another man’s hands on you.”

“He is married.”

“Like that matters!”

“He is married,
and
I have been staying with him and his wife the past sennight.”

Oh. Well, okay then!
“Where were you before that?”

She closed her eyes for a minute as if seeing some painful memory. When she opened them, she said, “I killed my father.”

He let those words sink in. “Oh, Britta.”

“I have no regrets. My father was a
nithing
, less than nothing.”

“Are you saying you traveled back in time, and are now back here again?”

“It would seem so,” she grumbled.

The time-travel crap again!
“I’m never going to let you go again.”

“You have no say over what I do.”

“Wanna bet?”

They stood glaring at each other, a stalemate. But they’d arrived at his car.

“Do you remember the last time we were together, Britta?” His voice came out raw and husky. Probably due to the cold air.

She seemed to notice her surroundings for the first time and sucked in air at the reminder of that other time. “If you think I am going to give a repeat performance in this cold on top of that car, you are more demented than I already think. My nipples would probably freeze and drop off.”

“I can’t believe you just said that.”

“What? Do you not know about hypothermia?”

“I know about hypothermia. God, I am so happy to see you.”

“I am not happy to see you.”

“Too bad. Get in the car, Britta.” He opened the passenger door for her.

“Nay.”

No longer amused by the delays, he took matters into his own hands. He picked her up, hitting and flailing, but he finally got her into the car, strapped in, and engaged the child locks on the doors. He turned the car on but stared at her before pulling out.

“Stop smiling at me.”

“I can’t help it. I’m so friggin’ happy to see you.”

“You no longer have any obligation to me.”

Is she the most stubborn woman in the universe, or what?
“Why is that?”

“I have decided to go off on my own.”

“And do what? The military again?”

“Nay, I am going to try something different.”

“Like what?”

“Will you stop asking me questions? I do not know. Mayhap I will be a cattle woman. I have been riding a horse of late.”

He laughed. “Do you mean cowgirl?”

“That is what I said, lackwit.”

“I am a lackwit…for ever doubting you would come back.”

“I did not come back to you.”

“Liar.”

“Where are we?”

He had pulled into his driveway and turned off the ignition. “My home.”

“If you think for one instant that I will share bed furs with you and your wife, you are in for a good thumping, you perverted son of a snake.”

“You think I want a ménage à trois?” He grinned. “I’m not married, Britta.”

“Oh.” She turned slowly to look at him. “And the woman you were drooling all over?”

“Sammy’s teacher. And I was not drooling.”

“Mayhap you will have more children with your new love.”

“Aaarrgh! I am not married, engaged, or involved with Francine in any way. And the last thing in the world I need is another child in my messed-up life. Sammy is enough, thank you very much.”

Britta flinched.

An odd reaction, he thought.

“Is Sammy here?” She checked out the well-lit cabin.

He shook his head. “It’s our lucky day…rather night. He’s sleeping overnight at a friend’s. We have the place to ourselves.”

“I will not be having sex with you.”

Ha, ha, ha.
“Whatever you say. Come on. It’s cold out here.”

BOOK: Sandra Hill
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