Page 44 of A Ranger for Christmas
“To hide evidence.”
His gaze narrowed. “What evidence?”
She studied him, noting the tension around his eyes. “Why’re you upset?”
He jabbed stiff fingers through his thick hair. “Anyone would be upset. God knows who breached the history building.”
“Lucas said there were no signs of forced entry.” She shook her head as she watched him. He showed no sign of surprise. “You took my work.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
She’d made the statement off the cuff, not sure what reaction she’d receive. But now, as she watched his face redden a shade and his lips flatten, she confirmed her hypothesis. “You’ve been jealous of my work for months. I tried to ignore it, but you’re angry I made the find and you didn’t.”
“That’s not true.”
“It’s true.” She advanced a step. “Did you run me off the road, as well?”
“Don’t be stupid! I didn’t run you off the road. And I have witnesses who saw me in town at the time of the accident.”
So he’d considered the need for witnesses. “But that didn’t stop you from taking advantage of my hospital stay, did it? You broke in after my accident and hoped the Rangers would connect the break-in and car accident.”
His gaze hardened. “I should have burned your office to the ground.”
To hear the admission, despite her accusations, struck her like a slap.
“I should have burned all your papers and destroyed your work.”
“Why?”
“I wanted to teach you a lesson.”
“Lesson?”
“I’d hoped you’d see the Ranger was trouble and that you’d return to being your old self. You’ve been different since Mexico. And I know you two met there behind my back. One of the other professors saw you dancing with him in the café.”
“Behind your back? My old self?” Anger simmered.
“You used to be easygoing.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You mean a pushover.”
“You were a nicer person before Mexico.”
“Before you dumped me.”
“You were selfish. All you cared about was work. You never looked at me.”
“I can’t believe this.” She reached for the door and opened it, allowing a chill to race over her. “Get out of my house.”
“We need to talk.”
“We’re finished.”
“Marisa, I did it for your own good.”
“Go away, Bradley.”
He reached out his hand as if to grab her arm, but she flinched and backed up toward the open door. The sound of footsteps on her front porch had them both turning to face a stunned Kyle. He carried a bag of groceries and a bottle of wine.
