She sidestepped him and let the dog outside. When she turned back around, her robe slid even more. He realized the exact instant Shayna’s nervous fingers encountered the exposed skin of her shoulder. The red in her face deepened from embarrassed to horrified.
“Oh, my!” She clutched the warped collar in both hands as she started backpedaling toward the stairs. “Please excuse me for a moment. I need to, uh-” the hem of her robe flared as she swiveled and ran “-change.”
At the base of the stairs, she stuttered to a slow stop. One hand released its death grip on her robe and grabbed the newel post so hard her knuckles turned white. She drew in several long, deep breaths before pivoting towards the room.
Her cheeks remained flushed, but her precise posture gave the impression of confidence.
“The bathroom’s through there.” She pointed to a door below the stairs. “It’s connected to the spare room.” Tension clenched her jaw, and her eyes didn’t quite meet his, yet her voice betrayed none of her distress. “I’ll see about finding you something to wear.”
She didn’t make it past the third riser before she stopped again. Kyle was pretty sure he caught the sound of a whispered four-letter word. With a heavy sigh, she turned and headed back down the stairs.
“I don’t get many overnight guests, so I need to double-check and make sure there are clean towels in the bathroom.” She crossed the den, both hands clutching at her neckline.
While he waited, Kyle laid his ruined shoes out in front of the toasty fire, hoping to hell they dried before morning. He shed his heavy, wet wool coat, looking around for something to prop it on. He stopped his scan when he noticed Walker’s agreement on the coffee table. Dropping the coat next to his shoes, he picked up the papers just as Shayna reentered the room.
“Bathroom’s all set, but I’m afraid you’ll have to let the shower run for several minutes before you get any hot-” Her words and her feet came to an abrupt halt when she saw what he held. Her robe was very tidy and very securely belted.
“So.” He saluted her with the papers. “You read it?”
The layers of composure seemed to visibly flake off her frame. “Yes.” Slowly, she continued across the room.
“What do you think?”
“I think I should have made my terms clearer up front, Mr. Anderson.” She took the papers and shoved them in her pocket. “Tonight’s offer of hospitality is contingent upon your not speaking about anything or anyone mentioned in that agreement.”
She’d ducked his question, but her formal wording provided all the confirmation he needed. “So what do you propose? We spend the evening staring at each other?”
“Of course not. Surely you can discuss matters outside your job. Current events? Movies? Coke versus Pepsi?”
Was she nuts? She expected them to engage in chitchat? The gash on his head throbbed painfully. He clenched his eyes and rubbed his fingers over his knotted forehead.
“Goodness, look at that scowl. A body’d think I suggested we spend the evening learning to macrame!” The musical vibrations of her laughter compelled him to reopen his eyes. All her earlier tension was gone. Her confidence and grace had returned. “Go ahead and start your shower. I’ll see what I can dig up for you to wear and leave it on the bed. Then I’ll scrounge up something for dinner.”
Kyle couldn’t help admiring the view as she disappeared up the stairs, her hair glistening like a stream of sable running down the center of her back, ending just above her swaying derriere.
So she had a healthy sense of humor to go with her temper. Kyle felt the corner of his mouth turn up at the image of the two of them, snuggled together on the couch, roaring fire and soft music in the background, mugs of steaming hot chocolate in their hands.
In his mind’s eye, the cocoa-and that ugly green robe-suddenly vanished. The room’s temperature skyrocketed as he imagined her nimble fingers undoing his belt.
A loud, ferocious bark from the front porch vanquished his fantasy vision. Good thing Brinks had such excellent timing. After a quick zipper check, Kyle let the dog inside. The beast gave him one indifferent sniff before racing into the kitchen.
He started unknotting his tie and headed for the bathroom, thinking he might have to start with a cold shower. Tempting as it was to lose himself in the possibilities of being alone in a cozy, isolated cabin with an intriguing, sexy woman, he couldn’t forget what was at stake.
His job.
His future.
She may have attempted to set out guidelines for their forced confinement, but no way in hell was he going to waste this prime opportunity. They were stuck with each other tonight, and like it or not, Shayna Miller would be discussing her father’s proposal.
Who knew a big-city lawyer would be so discombobu-lated by the idea of strictly social conversation? The horrified look on Kyle’s face had been priceless. Chuckling at the memory, Shayna pulled on a crew-necked, long- sleeved T-shirt and smoothed it over her hips. Good to know her sense of humor had survived the day from hell. She’d need it to endure the hours ahead.
While she’d showered, she sorted through all the surprises lobbed at her today, and she’d been forced to admit-to herself, at least-that Kyle wasn’t to blame for the bombshell he’d dropped. He’d only been doing his job, and regardless how unsavory the message, he didn’t deserve the full force of her anger.
That belonged to Walker and Patty.
Besides, what could a man like Kyle Anderson know about trying to put distance between yourself and your sleazy parents? More than likely, he’d grown up in a perfect Beaver Cleaver household where fighting over the television remote was the full extent of family strife.
A final check in the mirror assured her she was decently covered. Banishing all thoughts of Kyle Anderson and his ideal childhood, she grabbed her robe off the foot of the bed. The poor thing had seen better days and was stretched out nine ways to Sunday, but it had been a gift from Daddy and she treasured it. Funny how a ratty old scrap of material could feel like a warm hug.
If only seeing Kyle hadn’t driven all rational thought from her head, maybe she’d have had the wherewithal to change clothes immediately instead of running around flashing him.
When she’d opened the door, he’d been fierce, primal and sexy as all get out. Her girlie parts had instantly flared to life. Heck of a time for her libido to raise its hand and demand attention.
Of course, Kyle had opened his mouth and spoiled the effect. It was going to be darn hard to treat him like an innocent messenger if his every word got her dander up.
She hooked the robe on the back of her bathroom door. Beneath her feet came the familiar vibration of well water rushing through the cabin’s ancient copper pipes. Forcefully blocking out all thoughts of Kyle in her shower, Shayna straightened her spine and headed for her closet. She had to find him something to wear.
The first thing she thought of that had half a chance of covering his broad shoulders-which she
Out of habit, she brought it to her nose. His scent had faded from the material but not from her memory. Old Spice, leather and pipe tobacco. Eyes misty, she returned the hanger to the back of her closet.
No way she could handle seeing Kyle Anderson wearing her daddy’s coaching gear. That outfit represented the essence of James Miller. To allow Steven Walker’s legal minion to borrow it-even if the alternative was a near- naked man in her house-felt like a betrayal.
Digging deep in the other corner of her closet, she unearthed a paint-stained sweatshirt, one she’d appropriated from a college boyfriend. She aimed herself at the mirror and held the sweatshirt up to her chest. Since she couldn’t see herself around the gigantic black wall of material, she figured it would work. Now she just needed something to cover his bottom half. Out of the blue, memory struck. Shayna balled up the sweatshirt, quickly retrieved a thick pair of hiking socks and raced downstairs. A few months back, Travis had left a pair of coveralls here when he’d volunteered to fix her leaking dishwasher.
As she hit the first-floor landing, she paused for a beat, listening for the familiar rumble of the shower. Assured
