Cathy Thacker - From Texas, With Love

Will locked eyes with her. He hooked his thumbs through the belt loops on either side of his fly. “Here.”

Right.

“I hate to break it to you,” Samantha replied dryly, “but that’s a metal army cot.”

He turned to look, as if he had never seen it before. “Uh-huh.”

Aware that he was being deliberately dense just to get under her skin, she elaborated, “For one.”

A sexy grin spread across his face. “Then I guess we’ll be real cozy, huh?”

Samantha gave him a look that let him know they would not be hooking up, tonight or at any other time. “Surely you can sleep on the plane,” she said.

His expression gave away nothing. “Surely you can sleep at your brother’s place.”

Beginning to lose patience despite herself, Samantha jabbed a thumb at her chest. “Then I’ll sleep on the jet.”

He vetoed her idea. “It’s either here—in that bed—with me,” he told her flatly, “or at Howard’s.”

It seemed Samantha had been searching her whole life for a man every bit as stubborn and strong-willed as she was. Finally, she’d found one. The only trouble was they had very different ideas about what should happen next.

She edged closer. “Even a car or pickup would do.” She’d learned to get comfortable anywhere and appreciate the roof over her head.

“You’re not sleeping in a vehicle, either.”

Samantha’s heartbeat quickened. “Says who?”

“Me,” he replied with exaggerated seriousness.

“You can’t tell me what to do,” Samantha declared, ignoring the tingling sensation that started up inside her whenever he was near.

“I don’t have to provide you with the keys to my pickup truck, either.” He regarded her smugly. “So it looks like you’re back to plan A. Bunking with your brother.”

Samantha flushed. “Absolutely not!”

He looked at his watch. “Five seconds to change your mind.”

She glowered at him.

With a shrug, Will said, “All right, then.” He strolled over to the row of metal clothes lockers against the wall. Opening one, he pulled out boxers and a T-shirt fresh from the laundry. “I’m going to bed.”

Samantha’s jaw dropped. She knew Will was a no-rules kind of guy, but this was beyond ridiculous! “You can’t be serious.”

“Afraid I am.” He gave her a thorough once-over that had her insides fluttering.

Refusing to let him get to her, she merely lifted a brow in return.

The tension between them ratcheted up another notch.

She knew he was thinking about the sexual implications of the hours ahead, as was she.

“You’re not getting lucky.”

“I figured,” he replied.

“So maybe you’d better bunk elsewhere.”

“Don’t think so. I like my quarters and my bed just fine.”

Another stalemate.

She was definitely losing this battle.

Will made a great show of yawning. “If you want to brush your teeth or change into something more comfortable, better do it. Then it’s going to be lights out.”

Samantha knew he still expected her to give in and run to her brother. No way that was happening. He thought he could be difficult? So could she.

“First dibs on the bathroom,” she countered.

With amusement tugging at his lips, he lounged against the wall. “Have at it.”

All too aware of his gaze tracking her every step, Samantha rolled her carry-on suitcase into the bathroom. Ignoring the slight trembling of her fingers, she locked the door behind her and changed into the lavender sleep shirt she had been wearing when Will had kicked in her door. Then she washed her face and brushed her teeth in record time.

Truth to tell, she was exhausted. She didn’t care where she slept as long as she had a place to rest her head. And she was still hoping Will McCabe’s gentlemanly instincts would kick in—surely the aggravating man had some!—and he would go elsewhere to sleep.

Finished, she crammed everything back in her suitcase, sauntered out and looked at Will—then felt her mouth go dry.

He had stripped down to his jeans. Raw power radiated from his tall, extraordinarily fit frame.

So much for the hope he’d make a chivalrous exit, Samantha thought.

He really intended to spend the night with her on that tiny bed! Unless…he was calling her bluff?

Pretending she wasn’t turned on at the sight of all that hard muscle and abundant masculinity, Samantha inclined her head in the direction of the bath. “It’s all yours.”

He ambled past, T-shirt and shorts still clutched in one hand. The door shut and the shower went on.

Not sure whether to be grateful for the respite or worried about what would happen if he really decided to sleep in the single bed next to her, Samantha sighed and climbed beneath the covers—a starched white sheet and green wool blanket. She put her head down, just for a second, and closed her eyes.

The next thing she knew the bathroom door opened and a wedge of light spilled into the room. Will strode out, clad in his boxers and T-shirt, then switched off the light. She caught a whiff of man and soap as he slid in beside her, rolled onto his back and locked his hands behind his head. Wedged between the wall and his body, Samantha had nowhere to go. Worse, she was lying on her side, facing him. A position that was far too…intimate.

She turned, bumping her knee against his rock-hard thigh and her elbow against his chest. Her sleep shirt rode up. She tugged it down, then tried easing onto her back so she, too, would be staring up at the ceiling. His shoulders were so wide the two of them didn’t quite fit. She took a deep breath. “Could you turn on your side?”

“Sure.” He rolled to face her.

Heavens, he was a handful. “I meant the other way.”

His broad chest rumbled with suppressed laughter. “I know what you meant.”

Samantha set her jaw. And tried not to think about kissing him. Passionately, and without restraint. “You’re not going to cooperate with me, are you?” she asked irritably.

He gave her an innocent look. “This is me, cooperating.”

And she thought she’d known trouble before. “Forget it.” Samantha bumped bodies with him again, shifting around until she was on her side, facing the wall. They had maybe an inch between them. She could still fell the heat emanating from his skin. Hear his deep, even breathing.

Knowing this had been a gigantic mistake on her part, but not about to admit it, she closed her eyes and tried to relax. Unsuccessfully. Yet before long she could tell, from the sound of Will’s breathing, that he was asleep.

She was safe. There’d be no more verbal sparring, no more quietly searching looks, no more attempts to figure her out, for at least a few hours. Just blissful rest with a strong, capable man lying beside her.

She ought to feel relieved at the respite from all the emotional stuff.

So why didn’t she?

WILL AWOKE AT SHORTLY after six in the morning. Remaining perfectly still, he looked at the woman beside him. She was sleeping soundly, her body not touching his. It hadn’t been that way all night, he recalled, with a strange mix of feelings. At around 2:00 a.m. he had wakened to the sound of a soft gasp and a slight vibration of the bed. It had taken him a minute to realize the shaking was in her chest. Samantha hadn’t struck him as a woman who did a lot of crying—if any—so the sight of the hand pressed to her mouth and the tears running down her face, as she struggled to suppress any signs of weakness, even in sleep, had made his own gut tighten.

Howard had told Will that his kid sister had had one hell of a childhood after their parents died, and it was all Howard’s fault.

Will knew what it was like to lose a parent. Samantha had lost both, plus her only brother, all at once. She’d survived by becoming tough. But that toughness was cracking under the stress of all that had happened to her recently….