Chapter 2-2
1306 Words
Anthony had come downstairs to have a midnight snack because he couldn’t sleep, only to find a damn crazy woman in the kitchen. He still wasn’t totally convinced she wasn’t going to stab him. But considering she was half his size and hadn’t tried to stab him a second time, he had a feeling she’d been as surprised as he’d been.
The knife on the floor gleamed up at him. Picking it up, he sent Thea an ironic glance. He placed the knife back in the knife block and once again gestured to the fridge. “What happened to my food?” he asked again. Because really, he’d come downstairs for something to eat, and his food had disappeared. Had she eaten it all while he’d been upstairs?
She said, “That’s what you’re worried about here? Your deli meat that’s filled with sodium and that will make your heart explode someday?”
Oh God, she was one of those people. He groaned, shutting the fridge. His appetite had disappeared, anyway. He needed to get this woman out of the cabin. Right now.
She was crazy, yes, but when she’d launched herself at him, he’d felt that she was a pleasant armful of womanly curves. She wasn’t his type in the slightest: her hair was too short, she had a septum ring in her nose and a sleeve of tattoos all along her right arm. She was also obnoxiously short. He preferred women tall enough that he didn’t get a neck ache from kissing them.
Not that he wanted to kiss her. He didn’t kiss crazy.
He’d driven up to the cabin earlier that day, looking forward to being alone for the next two weeks. Amid the PR fiasco, he’d forgotten about his reservation until Cara had reminded him. He’d considered canceling, but he didn’t want to give Bruce and the other members of the board the satisfaction. Bruce would see it as weakness, would think he’d gotten to Anthony.
Anthony would still be working anyway—that couldn’t be avoided—and he’d made certain that the cabin he had chosen had reliable Wi-Fi. Besides, Cara was a phone call away, and he could get back to Seattle within three hours if all else failed.
Leaning against the kitchen counter, Anthony crossed his arms. “How about you explain why you’re here?” he said. First, he needed to take care of this woman.
“Because I’m renting this cabin for two weeks.” Her expression turned mulish. “So why are you here?”
Pulling out his phone, he brought up the email from Ted, confirming his reservation. “You must have gotten the dates mixed up.” He showed her the email.
But to his dismay, she pulled out her own phone—one with a cracked screen that he could barely read off—and he read that she’d gotten the same confirmation email. You’re confirmed for the Peaceful Waters Cabin at Mighty Pine, April 3–17. They were the exact same dates as in his confirmation email.
He thrust her phone back at her. “Then there’s a mix-up. I’ll call Ted in the morning, get you a refund.” He wanted to wring Ted’s neck. How could he have let this happen? Who booked two strangers at the same time?
“Why should I leave?” Thea countered. She mirrored Anthony by crossing her arms, which only made her small breasts more obvious. He decided to ignore that. “I have as much of a right to stay here as you. Besides, you’re rich. You can go anywhere. I’ve saved up for this trip, while I’m sure this is just a drop in the bucket for you.”
“Who says I’m rich?” he said, despite it being completely true.
“Because you have the face of a rich douche, and you’re wearing an expensive watch. Pretty easy to guess everything else.”
“I’ll have to do something about being so obvious.”
He called Cara, needing to get this sorted out. Cara was used to getting phone calls at all hours of the night. If anyone could get this crazy woman a hotel room or find a new cabin for her, it was Cara.
“What are you doing?” Thea demanded.
Anthony ignored her.
“Cara, there’s a situation. I need you to find me a hotel room for tonight. Somewhere near the cabin. Yes, tonight. No, it’s not for me—”
Before he could hear Cara’s reply, Thea took the phone out of his hand and ended the call. Anthony stared down at her, immense irritation filling him.
“Give me my phone back,” he said in the same tone of voice he used with people he was ten seconds away from eviscerating. The same voice that made employees quiver in their boots. He’d made more than one intern cry when he’d used this particular voice.
Thea, however, didn’t look like she was going to burst into tears. She merely tipped her chin up in defiance.
He towered over her and slowly began to force her backward until she bumped into the wall. So close to her, he could smell her—something citrusy yet also spicy—and he could see that her eyes were a dark grayish green. He was so close that only an inch or two separated them.
She’d put her hands behind her back, the phone still clutched in her grip.
“I’m not leaving,” she said with obvious bravado. “I have as much a right as you to be here. I paid for my reservation. I’m not going to let you ruin my vacation.”
Anthony smiled, but there was no humor in it. “I don’t give two shits what you paid for. I don’t care if you’re the goddamn queen of England. I’ve wanted to be alone in this cabin, and I’m not about to have some crazy hippie woman ruin that.”
Thea bristled. “I’m not crazy.”
“You tried to stab me.”
“I thought you were going to kill me!”
“I’m seriously considering it now.”
She didn’t waver, and Anthony couldn’t help but be impressed. Most women would’ve started crying already. Elise certainly would have. She used tears like a soldier used a gun, and she could employ it at the most opportune time to get what she wanted.
He reached to get his phone, but Thea pushed it higher up her back. He’d have to turn her around and rip it from her grasp, which meant touching her again. He wasn’t going to touch her a second time.
“Give. Me. My. Phone. Back,” said Anthony through clenched teeth.
“I will if you promise not to kick me out.”
“No.”
“Then we’ll stay here all night.”
He placed his hand on the wall above her head, effectively caging her in. Her chest rose and fell, and he could tell she wasn’t as calm as she’d like him to think.
“I have all the time in the world,” he said softly. “And I never lose.”
Since intimidation wasn’t going to work, Anthony decided that he’d try another tactic. There was always something that caused a person to let down their guard. Fear, greed. And lust. Trailing his fingers down her arm, he encircled her wrist. He brushed the soft skin there with his thumb. When Thea shuddered despite her best efforts, he exulted.
“If you’re going to stay here,” he murmured, his mouth near her ear, “then you might as well give me a good reason to let you stay.”
She froze. He stroked her forearm. Then she shuddered.
When he raised his head, his gaze landing on her rosy mouth, he suddenly wanted to kiss her. Right then and there.
Thea licked her lips.
And then a sharp pain radiated from his foot, and he swore as Thea ducked under his arm. She’d stomped on his f*****g foot, the little b***h!
She laughed at his pained expression. If she’d broken his foot—
“I’m not going anywhere,” she said and ran upstairs, his phone still in her hand. When he heard a bedroom door shut with a bang upstairs, he knew he’d been beaten.
He swore, long and low.
Thea might have won that battle, but by God, he’d win this f*****g war.
- Writer
