Stolen Secrets Read Free Page B

"You'll like it."
    "Please. No," she begged, "Just take me to a hotel.”
    "Can't. Nobody's driving up that hill tonight."
    "You expect me to stay— Oh, no!"
    "Oh yes. We need to discuss— things."
    He closed his door and walked around the front of the car, stomping down a path as he went. He handed her his briefcase and her bag, then started to lift her out.
    “I can walk,” she protested.
    “Sure. But it’ll take your ankle longer to heal.”
    Ryan lifted her up, careful to avoid knocking her foot against the frame. He used his hip to slam the passenger door shut, then he scrunched off through the snow with her.
    Although shorter than Sunderstrom, Ryan’s muscles felt as hard as tempered steel. Most men didn’t have the strength of a gymnast, and she wondered about Ryan.
    There were a few lights out in the darkness, on or near the lake, shining faintly through the falling snow. He headed toward them, concentrating on bringing them both down an icy wooden stairway. As they advanced Angie realized that the lights came from four rows of closely grouped houseboats— a small community— clustered along two docks.
    The dark water formed a black backdrop behind the snow-covered structures. Each piling had an elongated white cap of snow stacked ridiculously high. Lights shone from windows, creating an enchanted frozen fairyland, white and sparkling— marshmallow frosting on gingerbread homes.
    "It's beautiful," she exclaimed as Ryan paused outside a small houseboat. He answered with a quick, flashing grin while he unlocked the door, then carried her into the room.
    He stopped and pushed the door shut behind them. They were totally encased in darkness. He held Angie quietly. She didn't speak— the night felt friendly— perhaps because she was no longer alone. Did he feel that way too?
    She felt his warm lips brush across her face, pausing on her tense ones, and her heart surged in sudden joy as their lips lingered softly together.
    Unwise! She pulled away from the pleasurable, but accelerating situation. Had he noticed her response?
    * * *
    Ryan felt Angie’s muscles stiffen as she pushed away, and clamped his teeth together. Fool! As he had turned his head, his lips had brushed hers, then acquired a will of their own. He had wanted to kiss her last summer but didn’t have the time to get to know her. Now she would be frightened.
    "Sorry," he murmured. "I didn't expect.... " He groped for words. "Please don't think...." He stopped, shifting her light weight in his arms. What could he say?
    "Let's, uh, back up just a little," she said. "I didn't expect it either."
    "Feel to your left, there's a switch there," he said, carefully keeping his face averted. She reached out and flipped on the diffused lighting, revealing the solid oak furnishings and hardwood paneling of his home.
    He kept the wood polished to a golden glow. It and the gleaming brass fittings gave the room the feel of a ship's cabin. Home. It never failed to make him feel welcome, the one place where he could fully relax. Not at the moment, of course. Not with her here.
    He set Angie down on the sofa, then turned on the heat. He sped upstairs to retrieve a goose-down comforter and two pillows, all the while berating himself for acting so rash.
    She needed help and he had scared her instead. Still, the kiss hadn’t been very definite. Maybe she thought he had just turned his head— which he had— and it was an accidental brushing— which it had started to be.
    He hoped so. If he acted like it was no big deal, maybe all would be well.
    Entering the kitchen, he put a cup of water in the microwave, took a deep breath, then walked over to where Angie sat. She gave him a wan smile as he draped the comforter over her and watched her snuggle into its warmth. He smiled, trying to look friendly, then spun on his heel and retreated to the kitchen.
    She didn’t appear to be afraid of him. Maybe that kiss hadn’t been such a disaster. In his experience, women were