Liz Ireland - Cecilia And The Stranger

Cecilia frowned, but followed his very logical suggestion. Her bent frame was about to snap in two from Buck’s weight. With Pendergast lifting not a finger to help, she shuffled closer to the bed.

“You need to turn the other way,” he said, calculating.

Cecilia puffed out an exasperated breath. She should have just pulled back the damned covers and left Pendergast to do the lifting. “But that doesn’t make sense,” she said. “That would put me between him and the bed.”

“Trust me,” Pendergast said.

Foolishly, but just wanting to get this all over with, she did. Gathering her last vestiges of strength, she pivoted herself and Buck around so that the backs of her thighs were pinned against the mattress.

“I told you this was all wrong,” she said.

Pendergast smiled, and behind him, Cecilia heard the opening of a door, then approaching footsteps. Dolly! “Oh, no!” she whispered, looking at him entreatingly. “Do something!”

He nodded obligingly, and then, with an evil little grin, put two fingers to Buck’s back and gave him a gentle but firm shove. The slight pressure was enough to throw Cecilia completely off-balance, and she yelped helplessly as she felt herself falling, falling—and saw Buck poised to land right on top of her!

They hit the cotton batting and down mattress with a dull thud just as Dolly scurried into the room.

“What is happening!” she cried, trying to make sense of the mass of arms and legs entangled on the bed. Cecilia let out a winded moan, and Dolly’s eyes widened.

“Don’t, Mrs. Hudspeth,” Jake urged, enjoying himself immensely as he took her arm to steer her toward the door. “Don’t look on it.”

Dolly dug in her heels. “But that’s—that’s Cecilia under that man!”

Cecilia let out a muffled cry and began to struggle to free herself.

“I’ve never witnessed such a scandal,” Jake said in a low voice. “I never dreamed such things went on in respectable houses!”

Dolly’s hand flew to her mouth, her friend forgotten momentarily at the mention of the word scandal . “They don’t!” She looked at Cecilia, puzzled. “But who is that on top of her?”

“Dolly, for heaven’s sake!” Cecilia yelled, poking her head free. “It’s just Buck. Get me out of here!”

Jake’s hopes faltered. If only he’d had time to think this through better...

Dolly paled. “Buck?” she asked, her voice almost a whisper. “Buck McDeere?”

“Yes!” Cecilia said. “What other Buck is there?”

Jake began to worry when Dolly swayed, high color returning to her cheeks in a sudden rush. The woman looked drunk herself! Tears appeared in her eyes, and her mouth twisted in an attempt to hold back a cry.

“Mrs. Hudspeth?” he said, concerned, grasping her arm more firmly.

She shook her head mutely, lifting her hand to her mouth. The tears she’d been attempting so valiantly to hold back gushed forth. Without a word, she pivoted on her slippers and ran from the room.

Jake looked after the woman in silence, wondering what on earth had happened.

Sputtering, Cecilia finally extricated herself and flew off the bed in a rage. “You planned that!” she accused sharply.

Jake crossed his arms and faced her squarely. “And you sent that man to try to get me drunk.”

Her jaw dropped open, then popped closed. “You can’t prove anything.”

For his money, she might as well have admitted her guilt outright. Jake smiled. “All right,” he said. “We neither of us have behaved very well tonight. I think we should call a truce.”

She pressed her lips together and glared at him stubbornly. “Truce, my foot! My best friend is terribly upset, my reputation is on shaky ground, and I’ll probably be sent home because of this.”

To Jake, her words were like a balm.

“And as for you,” she continued, “what do you have to complain about? You aren’t even tipsy!”

Jake nodded toward Buck’s sleeping form and shrugged. “Your friend was rather transparent in his designs.”

Cecilia crossed her arms. “I should have known I needed to handle this problem myself.”

“I don’t think getting loaded up on hooch at Grady’s would have done your reputation any good, either.”

“Very funny,” she said with a scowl.

Now that he had the upper hand, Jake was much more relaxed. Cecilia Summertree had learned her lesson; the woman would probably stop deviling him. Which led to another happy thought—they would no longer be adversaries, after all.

He took in her pretty, pouting mouth, the lips a luscious pink from where she had worried them with her teeth. Her arms were crossed over her chest. Although her nightgown came up to her neck and was perfectly proper, its snowy white folds, and the womanly curves they covered, were as inviting as a warm bed on a cold night.

Jake swallowed hard as he looked into her blue eyes. She appeared likewise mesmerized, her chest rising and falling rapidly, but no longer from anger. He reached out, and she stepped back.

“You’re wrong, you know,” he said, taking another step forward.

“About what?” Her voice came out in a wary, squeaky whisper.

“I do have something to complain about.” He continued toward her, and she continued backing up until she backed right into a table.

“Wh-what?”

“No bed.” He nodded lazily in the direction of Buck, never taking his eyes off her. “Where am I supposed to sleep?”

A little shiver tremored through Cecilia. She’d gone too far this time. Why hadn’t she left as soon as she’d untangled herself from Buck? Innocuous words like bed and sleep sounded woefully intimate when you were alone with a man in his room. His dark room. Especially when your only champion was out cold.

Looking into his eyes had been the big mistake. She glanced at him, and then remembered that troublesome dream. Nightmare, she corrected. She’d remembered those smoldering eyes, and then that kiss, and...and then he’d started prowling toward her like a prairie wolf stalking a rabbit.

She was trapped, she thought, reaching back to steady herself. Her hands bumped against something hard and smooth. The washbasin! Heart beating rapidly, she felt around and found what she was looking for.

Jake smiled. Cecilia looked up at him, her eyes shy and a shade coy. She was beautiful. He understood why Buck was so smitten.

“Do you have any suggestions?” he asked, bending closer.

Her eyes widened when he touched her arm. “Oh, you mean to solve your little problem?”

“Uh-huh.” He nibbled at the soft lobe of her right ear.

“Yes, yes, I think I do,” she answered, gritting her teeth. She would never have taken the schoolteacher of yesterday, with his tight vest and floodwater pants, to be such a slimy lecher. But then, neither would she have guessed that she would find herself tempted by him in the least. Yet looking into those dark eyes, she could almost imagine allowing herself to find out if the man kissed as well in real life as he did in her dreams....

Almost.

He pulled back to look into her eyes, and she broke out in a wide grin. “What is it?” he asked.

“Just this.” Reaching from behind, she produced a white pitcher and flung half its contents in his face.

Jake let out a muttered curse as the water hit him, then dripped down his shirtfront. Reflexively, he stepped backward, shaking the water from his hands.

“I suggest you sleep on the floor,” Cecilia said. Then, with a last disdainful glance, she turned and ran from the room.

Cecilia swept the kitchen with long, energetic strokes. She had known Pendergast was going to be trouble, she’d just underestimated how much.