Body Heat (Vintage Category Romance) by Maddie James Page B

walked toward the cabin, he wondered how it would feel to bleed dry, to die a slow agonizing death. Then it occurred to him—he’d been bleeding for the past four years, experiencing a slow agonizing death of another kind.

 
     
    Chapt er Six
     
     
    Darian burst through the door. Startled, Blaire jerked back from where she stood washing dishes, and turned. He took two steps toward her and thrust some gawd-awful dead thing her way. Without thinking, she curled her fingers around the scaly feet of a big damn bird.
    “ Oh. My. God. What is this? A buzzard?” She was tempted to fling it back at him.
    Darian shook his head. “You wanted Thanksgiving? I give you turkey.” He stepped back, waving his hands away in a sweeping gesture.
    Holding the bird as far away from her as physically possi ble, she wrinkled her nose. “But it still has feathers and everything!” Her gaze lifted to Darian’s face. He was not amused.
    “ Do you think the turkeys you buy in the store are bred featherless?”
    “ No, it’s just that I didn’t think—”
    “ Yeah, you didn’t think. Again.” He crouched next to the wood burner and checked the fire inside. After stoking it and adding two small logs, he stood. Blaire still held the bird. “Well, aren’t you going to do something with it?”
    Alarmed, Blaire turned the bird around to look it all over and then shot her gaze to him. “Its neck is broken.”
    “ Where I shot it.”
    “ It’s dripping blood?”
    His face was set, all angles and hard edges. “We all drip blood when we’ve been wounded, Pixie. Now, are we going to have a turkey dinner today, or what?”
    Blaire didn ’t know what to think. Or do. He had stormed out of the cabin earlier with the look of death upon his face. She had been concerned about him after he’d gone, she was afraid he might hurt himself. Or…
    Or, leave me alone in this godforsaken place.
    She raised one eyebrow . “You didn’t have to take it out on the poor bird.”
    Definitely taken aback, Blaire watched Darian’s eyes widen. “What are you implying?”
    She shrugged. “You were mad at me, then you stormed out of here and took it out on the poor turkey. A random act of violence.”
    “ Violence? Wait a minute. I’m not a violent man! I’m a hunter. I saw the bird. You said you’d cook dinner, so I shot it. I brought you turkey.”
    “ Oh, so now it’s my fault?”
    Darian huffed. “I didn’t say that.”
    “ Then why?”
    He shook his head and moved closer. “Look, I told you. I didn’t take my anger out on the bird. I kill my own food.”
    “ But you didn’t intend to go out to kill the bird, did you? You stormed out of here because you were angry with me. It was happenstance.”
    “ Yes, perhaps, but…”
    He stopped talking as his gaze dropped to her lips. Blaire swallowed. She didn’t want him looking at her lips. It made her tummy all warm inside and everything… “Then that makes it all the worse.” Flustered, she thrust the turkey back into his hands. “Go cook your own bird, you turkey killer.” Blaire feared she’d gone a tad too far.
    “ Hell yes! I am a turkey killer! Among many other things, apparently.” He exhaled, hard. “Look, Blaire, I was in the woods, trying to come to grips with the cutting jabs you hurled at me before I left, and I saw the bird. I live off the land as much as I can. I don’t waste things and I don’t kill unnecessarily. We need food. Here it is. You talked about Thanksgiving. Here’s the turkey. Forgive me for being so considerate.”
    Dropping the turkey to the floor with a thud, Darian stalked away. He picked up his rifle, placed it in its usual place by the door, then hung up his coat, and turned to stand in the center of the room, arms crossed over his chest, watching her.
    A s if to say, I’m not running away.
    And Blaire watched him, her fists firmly placed on her own hips, her face taut, gaze focused. Finally, after several long seconds, she looked to the limp