Free Adella's Enemy by Jacqui Nelson

cart lurched and he tore his gaze from her. They’d reached the ravine his men had filled yesterday. The ground on either side of the track was a slick slope. He angled the cart for the track. The rickety thing would be better off travelling over the rails than through the mud. He decided this too late, and when the mare was on the track, the cart remained stuck in the mud.
    “Whoa, now. Steady, girl.” The mare ignored him and continued pulling. Keeping a firm hand on the reins, he jumped to the ground, putting himself between Adella and the closest slope. “Best get down, lass. Hop off the other side of the wagon and onto the tracks. Then I’ll push the cart out.” He widened his stance, bracing his toe against the wheel and his palm against the seat. “I’ve plenty of experience from the bogs ’round Galway.”
    “I’m even more familiar. An Irish bog is no match for a Georgia swamp.” With her valise clutched on her lap, Adella shimmied across the wagon seat toward him. She held out her free hand. “Give me the reins.”
    He drew them out of her reach. The mare tossed her head, rattling her bridle. Then she lunged. The cart emitted a startling crack and tipped, sliding Adella even closer to him.
    Releasing the cart, he raised a cautionary hand between them. “Keep still. The wheel’s coming loose. If it does, I can’t stop you from falling in the mud. Whatever you are, you’re still a lady. I don’t think you want to get dirty again or walk all the way to town.”
    “And I don’t think you know me very well, Mr. McGrady.” She lifted her skirt giving him a tantalizing view of her legs from trim ankle to shapely knee, making his heart race. She lifted one dainty foot.
    His heart skipped a beat. “ Adella, don’t—”
    She stomped her heel on top of the wheel. Pain exploded in his shin as the wheel came free. Without its support the cart collapsed, sending Adella crashing into his chest, toppling him backward.
    He released the reins. He wouldn’t drag the horse down with them and cause it injury. Instead, his hands instinctively wrapped around Adella’s waist. They fell together—her on top, his back taking the brunt of the impact—and slid down the ravine. The horse whinnied and whatever was left of the cart rattled off along the track.
    Their descent halted as abruptly as it began. Cormac lay motionless with his eyes squeezed shut, laboring to draw in a full breath. When he did, his discomfort vanished. He became intensely aware of Adella’s legs against his. Under his palms, her torso was silky smooth, but something hard poked him in the chest. Something between him and Adella. He cracked one eye open.
    She’d managed to keep that damnable bag with her. The one she’d rather hold onto than accept his hand at the train station. The one she’d rather risk capture than leave in Stevens’ railcar.
    “Are you all right?” She stared down at him with wide amber eyes. So close. Not close enough.
    He could only grunt a yes.
    She released a breath, almost like she’d been holding it. “I suspect otherwise. No doubt, you feel you must act all stoic and manly. I’m sorry if I caused you injury and I regret my…enthusiasm. Perhaps I should not have kicked the wheel quite so hard.” She folded her hands on top of the bag and rested her chin on them, her expression unreadable—as if she regretted nothing, as if she weren’t affected by their sudden intimacy.
    Frustration rolled through him like thunder after a flash of lightning. She did not blink as she watched him. Nor did she have the good grace to meet his gaze again. Instead, she stared at a point somewhere between his nose and chin. The delicate flick of her tongue across her lips sent him over the edge.
    He wrenched the bag out from between them and flung it as far as he could. Pushing up on her elbows, she tracked it with wide eyes as it bounced out of reach.
    “Go on,” he growled. “Go after you precious bag.” His traitorous