Free The Problem with Paddy (Shrew & Company) by Holley Trent Page A

her.
    He opened his mouth, and a hiss of breath rattled through his lips. “God, you’re…a battleaxe,” he said, eyes still closed.
    If he hadn’t have looked like so much shit, she might have slapped him for that retort, but the fact he was joking with her was a good sign. Right?
    “What’s wrong, Patrick? You’re hot as hell.”
    “Sexy.” A grin stretched his lips, and as if that’d been some sort of invitation, he grazed his hands up her naked backside and gave it a squeeze.
    “Not what I meant.” She swatted his hands away and leaned over the bed’s edge. Somehow, she managed to reach one of the water bottles without tumbling off and taking Patrick with her. “Here, drink this.”
    He forced his eyes open with a groan, blinking rapidly as if he was struggling to adjust to the light.
    Startled, she backed off him, mouth open in shock, or…what? Fear?
    Nah, not Dana .
    But his eyes, formerly the lush green of an Irish summer, were now a cat-like yellow-gray—some indefinable hue that didn’t exist in humans. His pupils had elongated into long slits. “Shit, turn off the light, sweetheart.”
    “Patrick…”
    “What is it?”
    “Not it . They. Your eyes.”
    He managed to work himself up to lean on his elbows. “What about them?”
    “They’re…they’re yellow.”
    It was as if the truth had dawned on him all at once. He took whatever strength he had and forced his legs over the edge of the bed. “I gotta go.”
    “Go where?”
    “I don’t know.” He stood, clenching his teeth in pain and rubbing the muscles of his thighs as if they were causing him considerable pain.
    Then it dawned on her , too. She hurried around the bed and got in front of him, putting the flat of her palms on his chest and nudging him back. “Patrick, you can’t just go out there alone. You don’t know what’s going to happen.”
    Gently, he gripped her wrists, kissed the backs of her hands, and let them fall. “Exactly. I don’t know. But it’s better for me to be out there than in here. I don’t know if I’ll be me or some beast who can’t rationalize. When I leave, you lock the door.”
    “No, that’s ridiculous. I’m not going to let you—”
    He kissed her. Shut her right up by delving his tongue into her mouth and stilling it. When he backed away, she was breathless and could hardly remember what objection she was going to make. With a groan, he stepped into his jeans, but didn’t bother buttoning them.
    Her expression must have been so easy to read a blind man could have, because he said, “Dana, this is what I would have been doing even if you hadn’t come.”
    “But, I’m here. Why would you want to do this alone?”
    He scoffed, then cringed. “Shit, it’s starting, I can feel it. I don’t know what’s happening, but it hurts. Dana, just lock the doors, all right? If I get too close, you take that Ruger and you shoot . There’s silver in it.”
    “S- silver ?”
    He shrugged. “Just a precaution. Please. I’ll be back at sunup, I guess, but you don’t have to wait around.” He grabbed her hand and walked her to the front door and pointed to the tree line in the distance. “Once I disappear into there, make a run for your car. Go meet up with your employee, and I’ll check in with you in the morning.”
    “No.”
    She watched a lump travel down his convulsing throat and his grip on her hand tightened. “This isn’t a great time to be difficult, shrew.”
    “You don’t get to call me that.”
    “Is it making you want to leave?”
    Nothing would make her leave until she knew he was fine—that he’d come back whole and with his senses intact. The same Patrick—the man she wanted to take home.
    “I never stop until I’ve solved my case, Paddy. I’m not done.”
    They stared at each other for a long while, then he nodded. “Lock the doors.”
    “Probably not necessary. Cats don’t have thumbs.”
    He grinned, and she could see his teeth had elongated—his canines