When the Heart Lies - By Christina North Page 0,21

what kind.”

He reached for her before she took off. But he could see she was on a mission and wasn’t going to be reasonable. “Wait. Kinsley, wait! We need to make a plan. We can’t just waltz back into the building. Their very strict about being on the grounds after ten p.m.”

She ran as she yelled. “You’re wasting time.”

“Shit.” He ran after her. When he caught up, he grabbed her and pulled her to the ground. He had to. To stop her. When she struggled to get away, he caught hold of her leg and dragged her down, trapping her beneath him. He didn’t have to do that. Belly to the ground, she thrashed about, tearing at the grass.

“Damn it, Jackson, let me go! I need to get back. Why are you doing this?”

Exertion slowed her breath to shallow pants; she was nearly breathless. He lifted himself slightly to lessen the weight. “I’ll let you go if you stop resisting and listen to me for a minute.”

Her body slackened. “Fine, I’ll listen.”

Once up, he lent his hand to help her.

Before she reached her feet, she started griping and madly brushing the grass from her clothes. He grabbed her and drew her close, clasping his hand over her mouth. She wrenched her head around trying to push his hand away. Wild-eyed and red-faced, if she was a tomato she would’ve exploded.

He choked on his laughter and tried to reason with her, in a whisper. “If I take my hand from your mouth, are you going to be quiet and listen to me?” It looked doubtful.

She nodded fast. Somehow, her eyes managed to stay in their sockets. As he took his hand from her mouth, his head slowly tilted downward. He narrowed his eyes. As he assumed, she had more to say.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing? God damn you!”

Slap. His hand landed over her mouth again. “Damn, woman, you’re not going to listen to me, are you?”

Her eyes scrunched up, and her mouth contorted beneath his hand. It was anybody’s guess what she was saying. He pulled her as close as he possibly could, enjoying it fully. Then, he looked her dead in the eye and spoke in long overdrawn syllables.

“If you don’t keep your mouth shut when I take my hand from it, I’m going to tie you up and keep you in the boathouse. And if you think I’m kidding—just try me.” He was kidding, but hoped reacting as extremely as she was, might snap her back to reality, so they could sneak back into the building without creating an unnecessary scene.

Her body went somewhat limp, and she lowered her eyes to one side. He slowly lifted his hand from her mouth; it fell into a frown, and then she did it —the perfect Scarlet O’Hara pout. He shook his head, laughed, and let her go. Rapidly, he grabbed two handfuls of muck from the nearest tree bed and threw it on her.

Her body bowed at the waist, catching the muck as if her belly were a baseball glove. She glared at him and shouted. “Have you lost your mind?”

Before he answered, he gripped her scrub top at the waist and pulled it loose. Then he swirled her hair all over head like a rat’s nest. “There. Perfect.”

Her tone became extremely calm, considering the circumstances. “What the hell…?”

“I have a plan.” He turned and walked back to the boathouse.

“Where are you going?” With her hands splayed out to her sides and stomping her feet as she walked, she pleaded for an explanation. “Why are we going back to the boathouse?”

“I need a beer.”

She followed close behind him. After grabbing a beer from the fridge, he rotated back. His chest bumped her crossed arms; he lifted his beer and leaned back to steady himself.

Her mouth hung open. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

He twisted the cap, took a swig, turned, and walked out. “C’mon.” After locking the door, he motioned for her to follow him. “Take your time. We have a few minutes.”

When she stopped following, he turned to her. “Just trust me.”

She scowled at him, but started moving again. Finding her stubbornness not only appealing, but arousing. He couldn’t help but imagine her bare ass naked and over his knee, but tried not to.

It wasn’t long before they got to the lake. He headed toward the small fishing dock, which stretched out over the water about fifteen feet or so.

“And where are you headed—now?” she asked, sounding