CHASING TROUBLE

“It would appear so,” Caroline nodded. The bathroom she had used earlier was a short distance down the hallway, and contained toiletries for both men and women. “It’s very kind of them to offer us the use of their daughter’s bedroom in this way.”

Nicholas nodded. “I suggest you tell them that when you get downstairs.”

“I intended doing so,” she snapped, her eyes glittering with resentment at Nicholas’ rebuke. “It’s you I’m annoyed with, Nicholas, not Jim and his wife.”

“Lucky, lucky me,” he drawled dryly.

“You’re impossible!” Caroline told him impatiently.

He shrugged unrepentantly. “So I’m told.”

Then Caroline remembered. She had his Aunt Mae to meet in the next few days. Surely she wasn’t expecting the both of them to share a bedroom too…? “I trust that your Aunt Mae, at least, is aware of our separate sleeping arrangements?” Caroline prompted tartly.

“Perfectly.” Nicholas’ gaze silently laughed at her. “In fact, I think you might come as something of a surprise to my Aunt Mae.”

Caroline eyed him warily. “In what way”

He shrugged dismissive shoulders. “I believe she may have the impression that you are slightly older than you actually are.”

Caroline’s frown deepened. “And why would she think that?”

Nicholas raised dark brows. “Probably because the description “prim, officious and efficient” sounds like it belongs to an older woman.”.

Caroline’s eyes widened. “Is that what you told your aunt about me?”

“You don’t think the description fits?”

Well, yes, it fitted. It just sounded so boring, Caroline acknowledged unhappily. Dry and boring-desiccated, even. She sounded like a woman twice her age! Was that really how Nicholas saw her? If he did, then she obviously needed to have absolutely no worries concerning sharing a bedroom with him tonight.

“Wonderful,” she muttered resentfully. “Perhaps you should call her and tell her that we’ve been delayed?”

“That’s very thoughtful of you, Care, but I called her before bringing up the bags,” Nicholas replied dismissively. “The snow is as bad in her area, so she had already guessed we might have to stop off somewhere along the way.”

Only Caroline, it seemed, was dissatisfied with their current sleeping-arrangements. Although she cheered up slightly when the ‘broth’ turned out to be a huge bowl of meaty stew, CTaccompanied by freshly baked bread and soft, golden butter. The four of them ate together in the small dining-room off the main bar. The landlord’s wife Jennie was a plump, middle-aged woman whose warmth at the two unexpected guests thrust upon her was nevertheless completely genuine.

“Texans are a warm and friendly lot,” Nicholas answered dryly at Caroline’s comment to that effect once Jim and Jennie had retired to the kitchen, after refusing their offer to help tidy away the remains of the meal.

“Yeah I can see that,” she replied.

Nicholas reached across the table to cover her hand with one of his as he gazed deeply into her eyes. “You need to stop worrying about everything, Care. We’ll be fine,”

Caroline couldn’t look away, but instead found herself mesmerized by those amazing eyes. “This isn’t a good idea, Nicholas…” Her words came out as a breathless sigh.

No, it wasn’t, Nicholas conceded. But for the moment, looking into those melting eyes, caressing her fingers with his own, he couldn’t think of anything else.

“Nicholas?” The slightly panicked edge to her voice penetrated his concentration on her slightly parted, eminently kissable lips.

“You’re right,” he rasped, releasing her hand to sit back.Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.

Caroline’s fingers tingled from his touch, her cheeks feeling flushed, her eyes feverish. Just because Nicholas had touched her? Oh God… Had she been alone so long, been so totally, absolutely self-contained, that just the touch of a man’s hand-the touch of Nicholas’ hand-had reawakened all her senses, both tactile and visual?

Because just looking at him now told her how aware she was of everything about him.

His long, dark hair was slightly tousled, and a temptation for any woman to run her fingers through its silky softness. His eyes, those pale, all-seeing dark eyes, were shuttered now, hiding his thoughts from other probing eyes. His face looked as if it had been hewn out of rock, perfect in its rugged handsomeness. His shoulders were wide and muscled beneath his thick, black sweater, his stomach taut and flat, his hips lean, and his legs long in the faded black denims.

Nicholas Connelly, Caroline acknowledged with dismay, was the most sexily attractive man she had ever set eyes on. As far as she was concerned, he was a dangerously attractive man, and it was better to keep that realization buried beneath her usual cool demeanor. Beneath her ‘prim, officious and efficient’ demeanor!

God, how that description rankled. Enough for her to want to prove otherwise? No, it certainly didn’t rankle that much.

She stood up abruptly. “I think I’ll go up to bed.”

Nicholas looked up at her with lazily amused eyes. “I thought you had decided to sleep in the chair?”

Caroline shot him an irritated frown. “If you insist on sleeping in the bed, yes!”

“Oh, I insist.” He nodded unrelentingly, before sighing as he saw her pained expression. “It doesn’t have to be this way, Care,”

“It most certainly does.”

“Oh, for goodness’ sake, Care, you can always put a wall of pillows down the middle of the bed if that makes you feel safer!” he snapped impatiently.

Nothing about sharing a bedroom with Nicholas made Caroline feel safe. And that uncertainty had nothing to do with his intentions towards her and everything to do with her own confused emotions.

“I’m merely trying to be sensible, Nicholas,”

“You’re merely behaving like some Victorian virgin who fears for her innocence,” he came back cuttingly.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Nicholas,” she snapped. “I am merely trying to maintain the formality of our working relationship.”

His mouth twisted humorlessly. “Perhaps if I were to give you some dictation before we fall asleep?”

“I don’t take dictation-of any kind,” Caroline assured him waspishly.

“No, you don’t, do you?” Nicholas conceded wearily. “Okay, Care, you win; I’ll sleep in the chair. I hope that isn’t a smile of triumph I see on your lips,” he added slowly, his gaze narrowing.

“Of course not,” she assured him, her expression innocent.

Too innocent, Nicholas acknowledged impatiently. “As I have to suffer the discomfort of sleeping in the chair, I think I’ll stay down here and enjoy another glass of whisky before coming upstairs.”