Free ChasetheLightning by Madeline Baker Page B

had affected her. How was she ever
going to face him again?
    She hid out in the bathtub until her fingers and toes were
pruney and the water was cold. She imagined him prowling, cat-like, downstairs,
peeking into the fridge, playing with the lights. She could hear him running
water in the sink. She smiled at his wonder at all things modern. How strange
her world must seem to a man who had lived in a time when women cooked on wood
burning stoves and did their laundry by hand and hung their wash on
clotheslines. Washers and dryers were relatively new inventions. She could
still remember her grandmother hanging her laundry on a line in the backyard.
And electricity—in Trey’s time, light had been provided by candles or lanterns
or maybe gas lights. People had traveled by horse or carriage, or on trains
pulled by steam-driven locomotives.
    She grinned as she stepped out of the tub, wondering what he
would think if she took him for a drive in her car. She dried off vigorously,
slipped on her nightgown and a robe, stepped into a pair of slippers, and then
stood there, wondering if she should go downstairs and check on him, or just go
to bed.
    She was still undecided when she opened the bathroom door,
gasped in surprise when she saw him leaning against the wall in the hallway,
his arms folded across his chest. His bare chest.
    “Good Lord, you scared me!” she exclaimed.
    “Sorry.”
    “What do you want?”
    He pushed away from the wall. “I’m hungry.”
    That was a good sign, she thought, though it was hard to
think at all when he was standing so close. So close she could feel his breath
on her face, feel the attraction that hummed between them.
    “What…?” She tried to talk, swallowed to ease a throat gone
dry. “What would you like to eat?”
    It was a bad choice of words.
    Desire flared in his eyes, but he didn't answer, at least
not vocally. Instead, his gaze moved over her, slow, heated, leaving her
feeling naked and vulnerable.
    “I don’t know,” he replied, his voice low and raspy and
suggestive. “What have you got?”
    It was suddenly hard to breathe. Her heart was pounding
wildly. She felt warm all over, her body tingling with anticipation.
    He took a step toward her, closing the distance between
them. His gaze held hers, fathomless brown eyes that seemed to see into her
very soul. She could feel the heat radiating from his body.
    She licked her lips. “Trey…I…we…”
    “Tell me you’re not hungry, too.”
    She put her hands against his chest to hold him at bay. Big
mistake. His skin was warm and firm beneath her palms. She fought the urge to
run her hands along his shoulders and down his arms, to run her fingertips over
the taut muscles.
    “Are we still talking about food?” She tried to keep her
tone light, and failed miserably.
    “We were never talking about food.” His voice moved over her
like lush black velvet, warm and smooth. Desire burned like a dark flame in the
depths of his eyes and with it, the knowledge that his nearness was playing
havoc with her senses.
    If he didn’t stop looking at her like that, she was going to
fall into his arms, drag him down on the floor, and beg him to make love to
her.
    She jumped when the telephone rang. Saved by the bell, she
thought, wondering when they had fixed the line. She’d been so caught up in
caring for Trey, she’d never thought to see if the phone was working again.
    “I’d better get that,” she said, and turning on her heel,
she ran down the hall to her bedroom. She scooped up the receiver, aware that
Trey had followed her, that he was standing in the hallway, waiting. Listening.
    “Hello?”
    “Hey, ‘Manda. You been working out? You sound all out of
breath.”
    “What? Oh, yes, working out.” She took a deep breath, trying
to still the pounding of her heart. “How are you, Rob?”
    “I’m doing okay. I’d be a lot happier if I could get a lead
on Bolander. And even happier if I was done with this little job of work