One Tough Cookie Read Free

when she'd pinned him to the floor. She rolled her eyes and let out a sigh.
    Suddenly hungry, she headed for the kitchen, the shower still playing its water song.
    It wouldn't be the first time she'd deflated a male ego and probably not the last. Besides, a little come-down wouldn't hurt him. He looked like an arrogant SOB, had that edge of power the women in her family were notorious for falling for. But not her type. Not at all. Though she did feel a tiny bit bad about almost breaking his arm. For Dan's sake she'd try and make that up to him.
    In the kitchen she foraged through cupboards. Surely there was something here that could ease the poor guy's throat. She found some cough medicine behind the cornflakes and smiled.
    "That makes sense, Dan," she muttered to her absent host. When she closed the cupboard door, she caught a glimpse of herself in its glass door.
    "Yuck," she said aloud, rubbing at one dirty cheek and poking at the pale scratch under her eye. Taylor isn't the only one in need of a shower. When the rubbing didn't improve things, she glanced at her hands. They were mottled with oil stains from fooling with her carburetor. She didn't know beans about cars and supposed it was time she did. She sighed in resignation. You have to learn, Willy, whether you want to or not. There's nothing self-sufficient about a woman who can't change her own oil.
    Hoping she hadn't done any real damage under the hood of her old Citroen, she hatched a plan to go back to Marbella tomorrow to arrange for repairs. After scrubbing her hands with dish detergent, she headed for the bedroom, cough syrup in hand.
    When Taylor opened the door, she was waiting for him. He was rubbing his dark hair with a tiny hand towel. A larger one was draped like a sarong low on his hips. Before stepping out of the bathroom, he dropped the hand towel and forked both hands through his wet hair, drawing it back from his high forehead. When he spotted her, his relaxed expression twisted instantly into a scowl, but even that didn't make her lower her eyes.
    Willy stared openly. The word wow bubbled invisibly over her head like a cartoon caption. His wide shoulders were slick with steam, and the hair on his chest was damp and silky. Her gaze followed the hair down over taut abdominals to where it tapered at the top of the towel. When she looked up, it was into his cool, green eyes. Stern, stubborn eyes like sharp cut emeralds. The scowl was his only imperfection. A distant warning sounded and a worried frown flitted across her determinedly friendly face. Trouble…
    "I found some cough syrup. It should help." She offered the half-full bottle to him. He nodded, mouthed the word thanks, and turned abruptly away from her.
    Okay, long on looks, short on charm, Willy thought, going back to the sofa. She debated trying to get more rest and decided against it, opting for a shower instead. She retrieved fresh underwear, cotton drawstring pants, and a T-shirt from her pack and headed for the bathroom. The tiny bathroom had two doors, one into the bedroom and another to the living room. The door to the bedroom was firmly closed.
    After her shower, she considered checking on her ailing roommate but thought better of it. If he wasn't asleep, she'd only make him madder than he already was. Instead she set about tidying up the apartment. God knows, it needed it. Post-cleanup, she inventoried the cupboards and made a list. It looked as though she'd be cooking for two.
    It was close to eleven when she got back from the market. An hour later there was still no sign of Taylor, and she started to worry. Maybe he was sicker than she thought. When there was no response to her soft knock on the door, she cracked it open and peeked in.
    He was sleeping on his stomach with his head burrowed deep into a punched up pillow. The sheet, tangled between his thighs, managed to cover only one leg and one lean buttock. Willy sucked in a breath and averted her eyes, surprised at the heat