The Other Lady Vanishes (Burning Cove #2)(69)

No, he really did not want to get out of bed to prod the fire, but the chill of the night would only get worse if he stayed where he was. Reluctantly he eased himself off the cot and got to his feet. He reached down to tuck the blanket around Adelaide’s bare shoulders. She stirred then, turning onto her back and stretching her arms over her head in a luxuriously sensual way.

A jolt of lightning shot through him, and suddenly he was aroused all over again. Minutes ago he had concluded that he had never been so satisfied—so thoroughly relaxed—in his life. But just watching Adelaide made him want to climb back onto the cot.

“Is it morning yet?” she asked.

“No.” With a determined effort he forced himself to turn away from the sight of a very naked Adelaide and crossed the small space to the hearth. He grabbed a poker and prodded the embers. “I just got up to put another log on the fire.”

There was a short silence behind him. He heard movement on the cot. He glanced over his shoulder to see if Adelaide was stretching again. But she was sitting up on the edge of the narrow bed. The blanket was pulled securely around her, covering the entire front of her body. Her hair tumbled around her shoulders. She no longer looked luxuriously sleepy. Instead there was a new tension about her. He could sense her uncertainty. His good mood started to evaporate. Damn. She was already having regrets.

She cleared her throat. “This is rather awkward, isn’t it?”

“The fact that someone wants to kill us? Yeah, I’d say that definitely qualifies as awkward.”

“I wasn’t talking about that,” she mumbled. “I meant this.” She waved one hand. “Us.”

He tossed some kindling onto the fire and watched the flames leap. “Why didn’t you tell me that you were inexperienced?”

“Because it didn’t matter, not to me. Did it matter to you?”

“Yes. No. I probably would have gone about things more slowly if I had known.”

Then again, maybe not, he thought. The realization that she wanted him had made him ravenous.

“I thought it all went quite well,” Adelaide said.

She sounded so smug, so pleased with herself. He smiled.

“I thought it went rather well, too,” he said.

“Don’t worry, I won’t read too much into what just happened,” she added quickly.

He stopped smiling. Straightening, he gripped the mantel and concentrated on the flames.

“What the hell does that mean?” he asked.

She exhaled softly. “I’m just trying to get things back on track between us.”

“We are not a couple of trains passing in the night, Adelaide.”

“I didn’t mean to imply that. The thing is, we’re partners. Two people caught up in a dangerous situation. We were thrown together by circumstances. You mustn’t worry that I will now think of us as . . . as lovers, simply because of what happened tonight.”

He had told himself that he would be patient. Sensitive. She had been through a lot lately. But a man could only take so much.

He turned around to face her. “We are partners. We are in a dangerous situation. And we were thrown together by circumstances. But like it or not, as of tonight, we are also lovers. Even if we never sleep together again for the rest of our lives, you cannot claim that we are not lovers.”

She watched him with a startled expression. “Are you angry?”

He thought about it. “‘Angry’ may be too strong a word. I’m irritated. Annoyed. Exasperated. If we pursue this argument much longer, I may get angry.”

“What argument?” She got to her feet, clutching the blanket at her throat. “For your information, I wasn’t arguing. I merely made what I consider to be a very reasonable observation. I thought describing what happened as ‘awkward’ was a lot more genteel than some other terms that spring to mind. After all, it’s not as if we’re in love and planning to marry. We’re a couple of people who are stuck together until we figure out who is trying to murder us.”

“You can call our relationship whatever you want—just don’t call it awkward.” He crossed the room in three long strides and gripped her shoulders. “Because it doesn’t feel awkward to me.”

“Really?” She paused, frowning a little. “How would you describe it?”

“Damned if I know. And damned if I care. Just remember that whatever happens in the future, we are now lovers.”

She started to separate her hands in a gesture of exasperation. At the last second, evidently remembering that she was nude, she tightened her grip on the blanket instead.

“This is ridiculous,” she said. “I can’t believe we’re arguing about something as trivial as how to label our relationship when we’ve got much bigger problems.”

“You’re absolutely right.” He raised his hands from her shoulders and cupped her face. “Our heated discussion sounds a lot like a lovers’ quarrel to me.”

Her eyes widened. For a few beats he thought he had pushed her too far and that she was really going to explode. Instead she grimaced. She followed that with a rueful smile.

“I refuse to admit that it was a lovers’ quarrel,” she said. “However, I do appreciate your attempt to lighten the mood.”

“I was dead serious, but never mind. As you said, we’ve got other problems. As soon as the fog starts to lift we’re going to have to hike back to that gas station and explain my wrecked car to the owner and, no doubt, the local cops. Not that they’ll be able to do anything.”