Stormbound with a Tycoon Read Free

It was just filled a week ago and was supposed to have been left on.” She glanced toward the window, then looked up at the ceiling and the sound of the rain pounding against the roof.
    An exasperated sigh accompanied her words.
    â€œDamn…there doesn’t seem to be any way to avoid going out into the rain to see what’s wrong.”
    â€œWhere is the propane tank?”
    â€œIt’s behind the garage.”
    Dylan glanced out the window. “It’s raining pretty hard. I’ll go out and check it. You stay inside where it’s dry.”
    â€œForget it.” She snapped out the words. “I’m capable of taking care of it myself.”
    â€œWhoa…” A slight edge of irritation crept into his voice. “I didn’t say you weren’t capable. I merely offered to help.”
    Jessica grabbed a jacket from the coatrack by the front door. “You weren’t offering to help, you were telling me what to do.” She shoved her arms into the sleeves, turned up the collar, then opened the front door.
    She paused long enough to shoot a contemptuous look in his direction. “I don’t need your help.” Then she stepped out onto the porch prepared to brave the elements.
    She bit at her lower lip in a moment of contemplation. Perhaps she had been a little harsh with her comments. He really hadn’t said anything wrong. She clenched her jaw in determination. Dylan Russell had totally unnerved her and she didn’t like it. She hunched her shoulders against the chilly air and ran out into the rain.
    Dylan stared after her, his annoyance overriding her show of irritation. She had literally dismissed him as if he had made some sort of disparaging comment rather than a sincere offer of help. He was not accustomed to being treated in that manner, especially by a beautiful woman. He allowed a brief instant of reflection. Of course, he wasn’t accustomed to dealing with independent, self-sufficient women who would even know what a propane tank was let alone what to do with one.
    He followed her out into the rain, catching up with her just as she rounded the corner of the garage. He stood by as she bent down and checked the gauge on the tank, then made sure the connection was tight. She glanced up at him, raising her hand to shield her eyes from the rain. “The valve’s closed. The tank has been shut off.”
    She opened the valve to start the flow of propane to the cabin, then she straightened up and took a couple of steps forward until he blocked her way. They stood very close together, almost as close as when they had been in the kitchen.
    The tightness spread across his chest again as he stared at her. The rain matted her hair against her head. Rivulets of water ran down her face and formed her long, dark eyelashes into spiky clumps. He started to reach out and touch her, but managed to resist the urge. He wanted to wipe the water from her cheek and kiss away the droplets from her all-too-tempting lips. It was the kind of delicious-looking mouth that would drive any man to distraction. He forced down the desire and reluctantly stepped aside.
    She remained rooted to the spot, unable to move. Every fiber of her being screamed out for the physical contact that was almost there but not quite. She swallowed down the lump lodged in her throat and tried to still her racing pulse. She finally managed, with difficulty, to break away from the invisible hook pulling her into the realm of his masculinity. She brokeinto a run, quickly covering the ground back to the cabin.
    He followed closely behind. When they reached the covered porch she removed her rain-soaked jacket and shook off the excess water, then pulled off her muddy boots and left them on the porch before going inside. Dylan followed suit by kicking off his shoes, too. Once inside she hung her jacket on the coatrack to dry.
    He pulled his wet sweatshirt off over his head, revealing a wet T-shirt. She