Deadly Obsession. Elle James
into the house. Even with a hand truck, she wouldn’t be able to get it through the door. God, she hated letting Chance help. After he’d called her stubborn and said those awful things about her house, she really disliked the man.
“Okay. But just the couch,” she muttered.
Together, they lifted the couch out of the trailer and carried it up the porch steps.
Jillian lost her grip twice on the heavy piece of furniture and had to stop. By the time they had it in the house, her back hurt. When they finally got it to the back of the house, Jillian was questioning the couch’s very existence. Why hadn’t she sold it in a yard sale rather than move it?
With the couch shoved up against a wall in the room at the back of the house Jillian had designated to store all her boxes and furniture, she straightened, pressing a hand to the small of her aching back.
Chance stared across the sofa at her. “Why were you in the basement?”
Jillian closed her eyes, trying to remember why she’d gone down there in the first place. When it came to her, she opened her eyes wide. “I heard a kitten.” She spun on her heels and hurried to the kitchen.
“No way.” Chance caught up with her before she reached the basement door. “You’re not going down there.”
“But I heard a kitten. It might have been separated from its mother. I couldn’t leave it down there.”
“Then let me look for it.” Chance stepped in front of her, blocking her path. “You don’t need to fall down the stairs a second time.”
“I didn’t fall,” she insisted.
“Okay, so you didn’t fall. You were just taking a nap on the floor when I found you.”
Jillian hiked her brows. “The kitten?”
“Promise you’ll stay put?”
She glared at him.
He didn’t budge.
At that moment, the animal’s cries sounded from the darkness.
“Okay,” Jillian said. “I promise to stay here. Now, will you go?”
He grinned for the first time since they’d met. The expression lightened his face and made her heart flutter. When he wasn’t scowling, Chance was an incredibly attractive man.
She shook herself, pushing back that errant thought.
When he turned toward the stairs, her breath caught and she blurted, “Wait.”
“Why?”
Jillian didn’t answer. She spun and raced out the front door, dived into the passenger side of Dave’s truck and retrieved the flashlight she’d seen on the rear floorboard. Back into the house she skidded to a stop in front of Chance, breathing hard.
“Here.” She grabbed his hand and slapped the flashlight into his open palm.
“Thank you.” He closed his fingers around the light and squeezed her hand. Then he disappeared into the basement’s shadows, the beam of the flashlight marking his course.
Jillian stood at the top of the stairs, her throat tight, her breathing ragged.
She found herself praying he would hurry. “You sure you don’t want me to help?”
“You promised to stay up there.”
“Yeah, but two could find the kitten faster.”
“And if a ghost locks the door again, who would rescue the both of us?”
Jillian bit down on her retort. “There are no such things as ghosts.”
“Then explain the hook,” Chance’s disembodied voice said from the darkness.
She couldn’t, so she remained quiet in the kitchen, throwing a glance over her shoulder every so often as chills rippled down her spine. She didn’t believe in ghosts, but she couldn’t help feeling she was being watched.
A miniature, snarling whine echoed off the walls below.
“Come here, you little poltergeist,” Chance muttered.
More spats from the kitten were followed by a hearty curse.
“Damn it!”
A minute later, a light shone at the bottom of the stairs. Chance started up with a bundle of rags in one hand, the flashlight in the other. “I found one of your ghosts.”
Jillian reached for the wriggling wad of cloth.
“Careful,” Chance said. “He’s got some sharp claws.”
A small gray head poked out of the fabric and big blue eyes shone up at her.
Jillian gathered the cloth-wrapped kitten in her hands and carried him into the evening light streaming in through the dirty back window. Once she unwrapped the feline, she could see the animal was scrawny, underweight and malnourished. “Ah, poor baby. Where’s your mama?”
“Poor baby?” Chance snorted. “He nearly scratched my eyes out. Just like a cat. Try to help one, and what do you get? Mauled.”
Jillian rolled her eyes in his direction. “Really?” His laughing eyes made her heartbeat stutter. Then she saw the line of red across his cheek. “Oh, dear, he did get you good.” The kitten curled into Jillian’s hands. “Come out to the truck. I have a fresh bottle of water, and I know where to find my box of towels.”
“Point me in the right direction. I’m not sure I trust either one of you at this point.” He led the way through the house and held the door for her as she carried the kitten through.
“I gave you the option of leaving,” she reminded him.
He shook his head. “Not an option. Too dangerous for a lone woman.”
Her shoulders stiffened. “I’m going to live here eventually.” She deposited the kitten, rags and all, on the front seat of Dave’s truck and retrieved the bottle of water in the console. “By myself.” When she straightened, she was startled by how close Chance stood. She froze, her breath hitching in her lungs.
Chance took the bottle but didn’t move away, effectively trapping her between the truck door and his body. “Preferably after you’ve had good dead-bolt locks and a security system installed.”
“Ha.” Jillian swallowed hard and lifted her chin. “My money might last through new dead-bolt locks, but if the choice comes between running water and a security system, I’d prefer to bathe indoors, thank you very much.”
Chance’s gaze captured hers for a long moment, and then the corners of his lips quirked upward. “Despite being a pain in the butt, you’re kind of cute when you’re passionate about your water.” He chucked her beneath her chin like a kid sister and stepped back.
Jillian dragged in a steadying breath and closed the truck door to keep the kitten inside. She rounded to the other side and closed the driver’s side, glad for a few seconds to gather her scattered wits. By the time she met Chance at the back of the open trailer, she was well in control. Jillian refused to let the arrogant man get under her skin again. Whether it was his high-handedness or when he softened and called her cute, she couldn’t afford to let him shift her focus from all that had to be done.
Yet his mere presence with his broad shoulders and ruggedly handsome face made it hard for her to concentrate. What had she been doing?
Chance held up the water bottle. “If you’ll point to the box, I’ll find a towel.”
She turned away from his laughing gaze as heat filled her cheeks. Damn the man. Jillian studied the neatly stacked boxes containing all of her worldly goods, some of them items her mother had treasured. “There.” She pointed to a box. “The one marked Bathroom Towels.” When she backed away, she bumped into Chance and almost tripped over his feet.