Winner Takes All - Anna Harrington Page 0,37

man was used to giving them and having them followed without question. Even now, from the way his mouth pulled down, he was irritated that she continued to defy him, with the poker still raised to strike.

“I’d prefer that you put that down.” He nodded toward the poker and said wryly with a quirk of his brow, “Wouldn’t want it to go off accidentally and hurt someone.”

“Yes, that would be a great shame,” she muttered, not lowering it even though her arm had begun to ache, “if someone got hurt because he didn’t leave when he was asked.”

“You didn’t ask.”

A tendril of irrational hope rose amid her fear. “Would you please leave?”

“No.”

She bit back a cry of frustration. Oh, the infuriating devil! Her fear was quickly being replaced by anger, and by that nagging feeling that wouldn’t go away that she knew him.

Untucking his shirt, he stripped the wet material up his body, over his head and off, baring himself from the waist up. Her gaze darted to the bare chest he’d so scandalously revealed—

She swallowed. Hard.

No, definitely not anyone she knew.

Instead of tossing the shirt over the settle with the rest of his clothes, he carefully draped it over the iron arm where she hung her kettle and swung it closer to the fire to dry. The firelight played over his smooth muscles and the faint tracing of hair on his chest that narrowed across his ridged abdomen before disappearing beneath the waistband that hung low around his slender hips. He wore only his trousers now. She couldn’t help but bite her bottom lip as she wondered if he planned on removing even those.

Then she would have to hit him with the poker.

He turned around to heat his backside. With that too familiar face once more plunged into the shadows and the firelight behind him outlining his broad shoulders, he resembled a devil escaped from hell.

He nodded at her. “You need to take off that coat now and warm yourself up.”

Dangling the poker at her side in one hand, she grabbed at the front of the coat with the other to keep herself covered. “No.”

He shrugged. “Then freeze. Makes no difference to me.”

Her lips fell open at his callous comment. Why that arrogant—

She bit back a laugh. It did make a difference to him, or he wouldn’t be asking her, repeatedly, to remove it. The same strategy she used against Ethan—tell him to do what she didn’t want, in hopes that he’d do the opposite. Well, years of mothering had taught her that the strategy failed more often than it worked, and she wasn’t some nine-year-old boy refusing to do his chores. If he thought—

She sneezed.

The stranger arched a brow.

Her shoulders sagged. Oh blast the devil!

“I cannot take off this coat,” she explained with a haughty sniff to cover the flushing in her cheeks, “because I’m in my night rail.”

“Then go dress.” He turned back toward the fire. “Because we’re going to be up all night.”

Her stomach plummeted to the floor. She wanted him gone. Now. “You need to leave,” she pleaded in a desperate whisper. “Just go. I won’t tell anyone you were here.”

He said nothing.

“I don’t have any money. Search through the cottage if you’d like, you’ll see.” When he continued to remain deaf to her pleas, her frustration changed to panic. “Take whatever you’d like. Just take it! And leave. Please.” A tear fell down her cheek. “Please just go!”

He stiffened at the sight of her tears, yet he made no move to dress and leave. “I cannot.”

“Please!” Each plea sliced into her. She’d sworn to herself long ago that she’d never again beg any man for mercy. But that old helplessness was surging to the surface, and she hated herself for it. Hated him for stealing away the strength that had taken her years to find.

“I need shelter from the storm.” His voice remained calm and quiet even as hers rose toward hysteria. “This was the first cottage I came across.” His gaze pinned her with a gravity that made her shiver. “If I go back out into the night, I’m dead. And several other good men with me.”

When he faced her, she reflexively took a step back, once more raising the poker.

“So you can stand there all night holding that damnable poker if you desire,” he continued in the same quiet, controlled voice, “and I’ll sit there on the settle with my pistol pointed at you to make certain you don’t get some fool