Page 47 of Hunted

“Yeah.” Coward, keeping your back to her while you deliver the blow. “Yeah, Lexi, just sex. I was relieved you weren’t dead, and I think you were too. We’re both adults.”

She was silent. He was afraid to look at her. Afraid he’d see tears in her eyes, and afraid of what that would feel like. He didn’t want to hurt her. Better she understand things now, though, than to let her get any crazy ideas about?—

The impact of an unidentified projectile against the back of his head cut his thoughts in half. “Ow!”

He turned, rubbing his head with one hand, holding up the other when he saw another book coming at him. Hardcover, too. She couldn’t have thrown a paperback?

The second volley ricocheted off his forearm to land on the floor. He eyed the lead crystal lamp on the bedside stand and tried to judge the distance to the door. She didn’t reach for it, though. She just sat there, glaring at him as if she’d like to see him beheaded. She didn’t say one word. And he didn’t ask.

“I … uh … I guess I’ll go check on the furnace. It should be running, shouldn’t it?”

Nothing. Only blazing eyes as he backed out of the room, into the freezing hallway in nothing but a pair of boxers.

Lexi blinked at the books lying on the floor with their pages folded under them like broken wings. She’d thrown them at him. She tilted her head to one side. Why?

A short time ago, she would have reacted quite differently. She’d have been hurt, yes. But she’d probably have accepted his rejection. She might even have considered it inevitable.

Not now, though. Without thinking it through, she’d reacted with an anger unlike anything she’d ever experienced in her life. A moment ago she’d been mad enough to seriously hurt Romano. Because he’d taken advantage. He’d hurt her, and dammit, she wasn’t going to put up with that.

She blinked down her surprise, and turned the idea over and over in her mind. Her outlook had changed in the few days she’d spent with him.

A pathetic wail interrupted her thoughts, and Jax butted her in the chin. “Poor kitty,” she said softly, petting him. But he swatted her hand.

“Men,” she muttered. “I know, you’re hungry. I’m on it.” She got up, snatching a bathrobe from the back of a chair and shrugging into it before Jax leapt into her arms. He nudged her chin with his big head and emitted a purr like a race car, punctuated intermittently by meows.

“Poor boy. You’ve been neglected, haven’t you? At least those brutes didn’t hurt you.” Without using her hands, which were full of yellow cat, she stepped into slippers and headed downstairs. Jax brushed his head over the collar of her robe and against her cheek. She ran her hand over his fur and he arched to her touch, complaining loudly if she dared to stop stroking him for a second.

She was stepping softly, almost on tiptoe, as she descended the stairs. She realized as she crossed the living room that she was sneaking through her own house, just because she didn’t want to run into Romano again.

Why?

Damn him for making her feel this way. She was bubbling over with the things she wanted to say to him. The problem was, she wasn’t sure what those things were. If she opened her mouth right now, she had no idea what sorts of emotional declarations might come out. She was furious with him for the callous way he’d acted. The raw intensity of her emotions frightened her. She’d wait until she was calmer, clearer, before she tried to voice them.

She shivered as she scraped cat food from a can into Jax’s empty dish. He dove into the food eagerly. Lexi turned to the sink to rinse the can, and was brought up short when she saw two other cans sitting there, empty, but rinsed.

She was sure she hadn’t left them there, and couldn’t imagine any of Mr. White’s terrorist thugs would have bothered to feed her cat. How odd. She turned on the faucet, but nothing came out.

“The pipes are frozen,” Romano said from behind her.

She stiffened at the gruff sound of his voice, but didn’t turn to face him. Instead, she shrugged and opened the refrigerator, taking out the milk and pouring a little into Jax’s water dish.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

She set the bowl of milk into the microwave, closed the door, hit the 30 second button. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

He didn’t reply. The microwave hummed as seconds ticked by on the digital panel and the timer beeped. She tested the milk with her forefinger before setting it on the floor. Jax dove into it, tail straight in the air.

“You spoil that cat.”

“So did someone else.”

“What do you mean?”

“Someone fed him while I was away,” she said, nodding at the two empty cans on the side of the sink.

“Someone pulled up the rope ladder and closed your bedroom window, too,” he said. “Maybe someone else was looking for you. Any friends or relatives who might’ve stopped by?”

“I don’t have any friends, and certainly no relatives.”

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