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〃No； thanks。 I want proof。 Or you can just take your things and leave。 I
didn't drive all the way up here to share a cabin with a man I don't
know。〃
His mouth thinned to a grimace。 〃Looks like you're stuck with me； lady。〃
She was suddenly angry。 〃No way！ I came up here to be alone； and that's
what I plan to be。 If there was a telephone； I'd call the local police
to get you out； but there isn't one； and I don't relish the thought of
driving out in this weather。 So I'm asking you to leave like a
gentleman。〃 He stared at the fire。 〃Who said that I was a gentleman？〃
〃I'll give you the benefit of the doubt。 Now； do you leave； or do I。。
Her voice trailed off。 There was no alternative。
And； damn it； he knew it。 Slowly； he turned toward her。 〃Or do you
what？〃
Frustrated by the situation； infuriated by his calm； she gave in to the
need to shout。 Loudly。 〃Look 。。。 Mitch 。。。 I don't know who's to blame
for this fiasco； but I'd like you to leave。 It's been a long day and I'm
tired。 There's obviously been a misunderstanding； but I have every
intention of spending the week here； and I'm paying for that time right
now。 So； do you go？〃
His expression was unchanged。 〃Tonight？ No。〃
〃What do you mean； no？ You have no right to be here。〃
His voice was suddenly as loud as hers。 〃I have every right to be here；
but that's between Miles Cooper and myself。 Let's get one thing
straight。〃
His eyes darkened to a charcoal green。 〃I don't want you here any more
than you want me here； but for tonight； at least； we're stuck with each
other。 We'll work something out in the morning。〃
〃But you can't stay here tonight。〃
〃Why not？〃
〃Because I'm here！〃
〃So？〃 His eyes were hazel again； calmer； strong。
A flush warmed her cheeks。 〃I thought I'd made it clear that I wasn't
part of a conspiracy。 Well； let me take it one step further。〃 Her
breathing faltered； but she let loose with what she'd been trying to
tell the whole world for weeks。 〃I'm not interested in you； or any other
man。 Can you understand that？〃
〃I hear you。 I'm not sure I believe you。〃 Audacious eyes fell from her
face to her neck to her breasts。 Mockery faded when he looked at her
wedding band。 Frowning； he drew himself up straight。 〃I think I've had
it。 Good night。〃 As he brushed past her； she grabbed his arm in alarm。
〃Where are you going？〃
〃To bed。〃 His words were blunt； his tone chilled。
〃Oh； no； you're not。〃
He arched a brow。 〃Are you going to stop me？〃 Slowly he looked down at
the white…knuckled hand on his arm。
She released him fast。 〃But you can't stay here！〃 He continued on toward
his bags。 Unable to think of a better course； she followed。 〃I said； you
can't stay！ There must be some place in the village。〃
Piling luggage under his right arm； he headed wordlessly for the stairs。
Abruptly； he stopped； turning his head only enough to call over his
shoulder； 〃I assume you're sleeping down here？〃
She had no power； no power at all。 〃Yes； but you have to leave。〃
He turned to face her。 His smile was polite； his eyes frosty； his voice
cool。 〃I will in good time。〃 Taking the stairs two at a time； an
astounding feat； given his bulky burden； he disappeared into the attic；
leaving her at a total loss for words。
Anne didn't budge。 Her arms hung limp at her sides； her bare feet were
flat on the floor； her eyes were glued to the attic door； which closed
with a resounding bang。 Even the faint sounds from within…the scrape of
a chair leg； the creak of the mattress under one bag； the thud of
another on the floor； the jangle of metal hangers on a wooden rod…failed
to move her。
A crick in her neck finally brought her back to reality。 Hands bracing
her lower back； she rolled her head in a circular motion in an attempt
to release tension。
Bizarre。 Bizarre situation。 A real…life drama in place of a fictional
one； discarded now on the floor by the fire。 But there wasn't a thing
she could do。 She could agonize over it for hours； but that fact
wouldn't change。
Retreating to her bedroom； she closed the door tightly and propped a
chair against the knob the way her heroine had done in Chapter Six； or
thereabouts。 Quickly； she slipped into a long flannel nightgown； pulled
her hair from its knot； and took refuge under the bed's heavy quilts。
Despite the chair at the door； she wasn't frightened。 Not really。
Mitch's story irritated her； but it was believable enough。 Or； rather；
he was believable。 There was something about him…his intelligent manner
of speech； his clean appearance； his refined air…that spoke of breeding。
Granted； he'd been pretty crude at the start。 But even that could be
explained away。 He seemed neither malicious nor vengeful； only angry at
the rental agent's error。
What to do？ She had no choice but to sleep on the matter。 e morning；
a solution would be found。 It would have to be found。 This was her week。
She wasn't sharing it。
But sleep eluded her。 She cursed the two cups of coffee that she'd had；
the unfinished paperback； the creaking that came from the room above
her。 She finally fell into a restless sleep； only to be awaken at
intervals by the creak of that bed。 It was nearly dawn when she realized
that she wasn't brooding about Jeff for a change。 On that ironic note；
and thoroughly worn out； she slept soundly。
What seemed only moments later； she was jolted awake by a thunderous
noise in the kitchen。 Livid； she bolted out of bed； whipped the chair
from the door； and stormed toward the source of the racket。
〃What； in God's name； was that noise？〃 she shouted； rounding the kitchen
door in time to see Mitch picking up the first of a scattered mess of
pots； pans； and metal utensils that covered the linoleum by the stove。
He wore a navy velour robe that barely touched his knees； and was
barefoot like her。 And disheveled。 And very； very cranky。
Shooting her a sidelong glare； he bellowed； 〃What kind of housekeeper
are you； piling things in the cabi like that？ Did you really expect
them to stay put once I opened the door？ And where in the hell is the
orange juice press？ My Lord； woman； get to it and clean up this mess！〃
Friends who knew Anne to be easygoing； even…tempered； understanding； and
acmodating would never have recognized the spitfire she suddenly
became。 It had been too long a day yesterday； too long a night last
night； too disturbing an ordeal for months； for an ounce of poise to
survive。
Dark eyes flashing； she confronted him。 〃You clean it up。 I didn't make
the mess； and I'm not your slave！ It happens that I didn't touch that
cabi when I arrived。 Put your blame on whomever you please； as long
as it isn't on me！ And what right do you have to wake me up？ This is my
vacation； or didn't you hear that last night？〃 Only a deaf man could
have missed a word now。 Goaded by his indignant stare； she ranted on。
〃This noise was enough to wake the dead。 Not that I needed anything as
loud as that to disturb me。 Your twisting around up over my head all
night was bad enough！ Just because you have insomnia doesn't mean that I
have to have it！〃
His stare was chilling。 〃You wake up in a lovely mood； don't you？ Very
different from my usual wom