“Rafe!” Futilely she tried to tug the hem of the shirt down over her legs. “For heaven’s sake!”
“Right there,” he repeated, and headed back into the hall.
“That coffee I smell?” Shane asked conversationally. “I could use some.”
“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t break your neck.”
Shane took off his gloves, blew on his chilled fingers. “’Cause I rode over here in a blizzard to save yours.” He leaned forward, but couldn’t quite see into the parlor. “She’s sure got legs.”
“Where do you want to die?”
“Just an observation.” His grin only widened, the MacKade dimple flashing. “Hey, who knew? I figured you were stuck here, without transportation. Alone. Then, when I saw her car, I thought maybe she needed a lift into town.” Again he inched forward, hopeful. “Maybe I should ask her.”
“One more step and they won’t find your body till spring.”
“If I win, can I keep her?” When Rafe snarled, Shane erupted with laughter. “Don’t hit me, I’m frozen. I’ll break.”
Muttering threats, Rafe grabbed Shane by the collar and dragged him down the hall. “Eyes front, MacKade.” In the kitchen, he found a thermos, filled it with coffee. “Now beat it.”
“I’m going.” But Shane drank straight from the thermos. “The wind’s a bitch.” Grateful for the heat, he drank again. “Look, I didn’t mean to horn in on your little love nest,” he began, then stopped, lowered the thermos when he read quick fury in Rafe’s eyes. “Hey, are you serious about her?”
“Mind your own damn business.”
Shane whistled out a breath, screwed the top on the thermos. “You’ve always been my business. Regan’s a real lady. I mean that.”
“So?”
“So nothing.” Embarrassed now, Shane shifted position. “I like her, always have. I thought about…” Realizing he’d taken a wrong turn, he pulled out his gloves again and whistled a cheerful tune.
“Thought about what?”
Cautious, Shane ran his tongue around his teeth. He really wanted to keep all of them. “Just what you think I thought. Hell, look at her. A man’s bound to think.” Agile, he evaded Rafe’s lunging arm. “Think is all I did. I’m not going to fight you over thinking.” In a gesture of peace, he threw up his hands. “What I’m saying is, it’s great. You hit the jackpot.”
Temper vanished. Rafe reached for the pot again. “We’re sleeping together. That’s all.”
“You gotta start somewhere.”
“She’s different, Shane.” He hadn’t been able to admit it to himself, but it came easily brother to brother. “I haven’t sorted it out, but she’s different. She matters a lot.”
“Everybody’s got to take the big fall sometime.” Shane slapped a hand on Rafe’s bare shoulder. “Even you.”
“I didn’t say anything about falling,” Rafe muttered. He knew the implications of that. Falling in love. Being in love.
“You didn’t have to. Look, I’ll plow the lane, just in case. You got any food around here?”
“Yeah, there’s enough.”
“I’ll take off, then. It’s supposed to let up by mid-morning. I have animals to tend to, so if you need something, try Devin first. I might be out.”
“Thanks. Shane?” He turned, eyeing his brother. “If you so much as glance in that parlor on your way out, I’ll have to kill you.”
“I already got a good look at her legs.” Whistling cheerfully, Shane ambled down the hall. “See you, Regan.” It cost him, but he kept his eyes averted on his way to the door.
The minute she heard it slam, Regan pressed her face on her updrawn knees. Stepping into the parlor, Rafe winced at her defensive posture, her trembling shoulders.
“Look, darling, I’m sorry. I should have locked the damn door.” Gently he patted her shoulder and sat down beside her. “Shane doesn’t mean to be an idiot. He was born that way. He doesn’t mean any harm. Don’t be upset.”
She made a strangled sound, and when she lifted her face, it was wet with tears. Her laughter bubbled out like wine. “Can you imagine what we looked like, the three of us, in that hall?” She pressed her hand over her mouth and rocked. “The two of us half-naked, Shane looking like the abominable snowman.”
“You think that’s funny?”
“No, I think it’s hysterical.” Weak with laughter, she collapsed against him. “The MacKade brothers. Oh, God, what have I gotten myself into?”
Delighted with her, he hauled her into his lap. “Give me back my shirt, darling, and I’ll show you.”
Chapter 7
Cozy in the sleeping bag, Regan dozed by the fire. It sizzled, logs crackling, and brushed heat over her face and her outflung arm. She sighed, cruising with the dream, shifting toward her lover.
Her dreams were nearly as erotic as the reality of the past hours, vivid enough to have her stirring, and yearning. When she reached out and found herself alone, she sighed again, in disappointment.
The fire was lively, so she knew Rafe had built it up once more before he left her. The room was quiet enough that she could hear the ticking of the mantel clock marking time. Evidence of the night’s activities was all around her, in the hastily strewn clothes littering the floor, the torn bits of lace and the jumbled boots. And the evidence was within her as she stretched, feeling the warm glow of desire.
She wished he was there, so that he could stoke it as he had stoked the fire.
Still, it was a wonderful shock to realize she could lay claim to such a bottomless well of passion.
It had never been so before, she reflected, sitting up to exercise her stiff and sore muscles. Physical relationships had always been far down on her list of priorities. She wondered if, after her recent behavior, Rafe would be surprised to know that before him, she had considered herself hesitant, even a little shy, when it came to intimacy.
With a yawn, she reached for her sweater and pulled it over her head.
Knowing him, she decided, he’d just be smug.
It was a pity she couldn’t blame her celibacy of the past few years for her wildfire response to him. It felt as though her libido had been nothing more than dry timber set to the torch the moment he put his hands on her. But using abstinence as the major reason for her response would be far from honest.
Whatever her life had been before, he’d changed it just by stepping into her path. It was certain she would never look at cozy nights by a fire in the same way again. It was doubtful she would look at anything in quite the same way again, she mused, now that she knew what she was capable of with the right…mate.
Just how, she wondered, did a woman go back to a quiet, settled life once she’d had a taste of Rafe MacKade? That was something she was going to have to deal with, one cautious day at a time.
At the moment, the only thing she wanted was to find him.
In her stocking feet, she began to wander the house. He could be anywhere, and the challenge of hunting him down, finding him busy with some chore—one she was determined to distract him from—amused her.
The chill of the bare floors seeped through and had her rubbing her hands together for a little warmth. But curiosity far overweighed a little discomfort.
She’d