Free Wild Rain by Donna Kauffman Page A

I thought the roof was still on, not that it wasn’t serious.” He grabbed the radio off the table. “You picked a safe spot to ride this thing out in?”
    It took a second for her to switch mental tracks. “The hall storage closet.”
    “How big?”
    “I don’t know. It’s a walk-in. I knocked out the wall between the old coat closet and had it enlarged. My office didn’t have a closet, so—”
    “Bigger than the pantry?”
    Not until he cut her off had she realized she was rambling.
Get a grip
, she commanded herself.
You planned for this down to the last detail. It’ll be okay.
Drawing in a breath, she squared her shoulders. “About twice the size. It’s partly filled with medical supplies from my clinic office in the other building. There’s also a few cartons of emergency rations and survival gear.”
    “Good.” Tucking the sponge end of the mop under his arm, he moved surprisingly swiftly to herside. “Does the couch have cushions that can be removed?”
    “Well, yes, but—”
    “Good, I’ll get them.”
    He started to squeeze past her, then stopped partway through the door. He looked at her, and she stopped breathing.
    “You got a bedroom on this floor?”
    “Do I … what?” Her voice trailed off into an embarrassing squeak, prompting her to swallow. Hard. He was much too close, and too … everything … to mention bedrooms. She wasn’t proud to discover, at a time when she should be fearing for her very life, that he could inspire erotic thoughts with the mere mention of a stupid room.
    So what if her old four-poster bed was in that room? The one that wouldn’t fit up the stairs so she’d had to sacrifice it to the guest room.
    “A bedroom. Down here.” His voice was tight with impatience. He pronounced “here” like it had two syllables.
    “The door off the foyer, at the base of the stairs.” He paused for a moment, just staring at her. Her lips felt suddenly parched and dry. So she licked them.
    The most remarkable thing happened next. His eyes actually changed color. Or maybe it was the rapid expansion of his pupils. And why in the hell was she noticing such a thing now? “I’ll … uh, I’ll get the cushions.”
    A thick forearm halted her attempt at a hasty retreat.
    “I’ll get the cushions. You strip the bed down to the mattress. I’ll be in to help you move it.” He dropped his arm, but didn’t move out of her way, or stop staring at her.
    What was stopping her from just shoving past him she didn’t know or care to examine too closely. Possibly the knowledge that some part of her anatomy would have to come into contact with some part of his. And he had
some
parts.
    “Single or double?”
    “What?”
    He jerked his head down the hallway.
    “Oh, the bed. Queen.”
    “Good.” Without another word, he dropped his arm and shifted back so she could precede him down the hall. It took most of her will not to break into a run. She swore she could feel him behind her just as surely as if he were touching her. “Ridiculous,” she whispered under her breath, wondering wildly if there were any published reports about hurricanes and their effect on a person’s libido.

FIVE
    Reese watched her narrow hips and slight fanny swing down the hallway in front of him. Realizing he’d slowed down just so he could watch her go the entire length of the hall, he averted his gaze—and his thoughts—to set about making final preparations.
    Once he had tossed the cushions into the storage closet, he went back down the hall to the front bedroom. Using the tip of the mop handle, he tapped the door open. Then stopped dead on the threshold.
    Rationally, the sight of that same slight fanny stuck up in the air as she knelt on all fours while yanking at the far corner of the light blue linen shouldn’t have affected him in the least. God, he should have had the beer warm. Five or six of them, at least. It was obvious he was losing his edge anyway. What possible harm could alcohol do