"Feehan, Christine - Lover Beware 03 - Brand, Fiona - After Midnight" - читать интересную книгу автора (Feehan Christine)

Suppressing a shudder, she felt beneath the gun for the magazine. From the short length, she discerned that it probably held three shots, which meant, if it was fully loaded, that there were two left. She pulled the bolt into the firing position and heard a round slick into the chamber, then fitted the stock to her shoulder and aimed, but her target was a blurred whirl of muscle and shadows and the sheer savagery of the fight rendered the threat of the gun close to useless. The two men were so absorbed in the battle that they hadn't noticed she had a gun trained on them, and the odds were that even if she did pull the trigger, she would hit Rider.
Lowering the gun, Jane searched the room, which was gradually lightening, and spotted the battery lantern, which was now lying on its side by the wall, miraculously still intact. Setting the gun on the floor, she retrieved the lantern, turned the knob, and light spread through the room.

228 FIONA BRAND
The assailant was almost as tall as Rider, and brawny across the shoulders. Something about the small shape of his head compared to the width of his shoulders, his hair cut close around his skull, was familiar. Jane was sure she knew who he was, although she'd only seen him a handful of times. Earl Sooner, one of a small number of beneficiaries who were resident in and around Tayler's Creek. He owned a small acreage on the other side of town, although most of his block was covered in gorse and bush. According to local gossip, the only productive use Earl had ever put his piece of land to was reputed to be an illegal one, although he had never actually been busted for growing cannabis.
The fighting surged toward her again, and she scrambled back until the wall stopped her. Locked together, the two men hit the doorframe, making the whole house shudder, then reeled back into the bedroom. With a quick twist, Rider flipped Sooner onto his stomach on the floor, then went down on top of him, his knee wedged in the small of Sooner1 s back, forearm pressed up tight under Sooner's neck, arching his head back at an acute angle. Sooner's face went red, then purple, his eyes bulging. Spittle frothed from his mouth as he fought the hold, then abruptly his eyelids drooped and he went slack in Rider's grip.
Rider's gaze found hers. Blood was trickling from a cut on his cheekbone, and he had a swelling over one eye, but otherwise he appeared to be unharmed. "Have you got rope?"
"I've got plenty, but it's in the barn."
"Get it. I'll make sure he doesn't wake up anytime soon."
Jane didn't hang around to ask just what Rider had done to knock Sooner out, or what measures he'd take if Sooner came back around. Jess was crouched at the bottom of the stairs, and shadowed Jane to the kitchen, whining for assurance, keeping so close, Jane kept tripping over her.
Jane dropped a consoling pat on her head. "Me, too, girl."
She collected a second torch from the pantry, because the last one was outside on the lawn somewhere, and she was almost certain she'd left it turned on, so the batteries would be flat.
The trip to the barn was unnerving. The dawn was gray and murky, the wind still strong enough that it sounded like surf pounding through the trees, and the rain drove in ghostly

After Midnight 229
sheets across the yard, instantly soaking her as she crossed the open area of lawn in front of the house.
It wasn't until she stepped onto the graveled area in front of the barn that she remembered that her feet were bare, but the sharp stones hardly registered as she picked her way across to the barn, set the torch down, and heaved at the crossbar that anchored the door closed. When she finally got the bar clear and wrenched one of the doors wide, the barn yawned, cav-ernously dark and creepy. Inside, the sound of the wind and rain was amplified, because acoustically, the barn resembled nothing so much as a steel drum.
Jess stuck to her like glue as she navigated the piles of hay, rubbing at her legs and shivering as Jane uncoiled a length of light rope from a nail on the wall. For good measure, she grabbed a coil of baling twine as well. This much rope was overkill, but what the heck? Sooner was dangerous. It was better that he was half suffocated by rope than that he got free.
By the time she made it back to the kitchen, her clothes were plastered to her skin and her hair trailed wetly over her cheeks and dripped down her spine. She slammed the kitchen door against the wind, the cessation of noise almost eerily abrupt. Jess shook herself, sending a flurry of droplets across the floor, while Jane selected a sharp knife from the knife block for slicing the rope. Gripping the torch more firmly, she climbed the stairs. Her pace slowed as she approached her bedroom door, apprehension knotting her belly, because it occurred to her that while she was in the barn, Sooner might have come around. Her heart thumped hard in her chest at the thought of Rider hurt or incapacitated. As a precautionary measure, she held the knife at her side so that it wouldn't be immediately obvious, although the knife would be close to useless when stacked up against a gun.
When she paused at the open door, for a moment the tableau of Rider holding the unconscious Sooner in a neck lock on the floor was abruptly disorienting. She hadn't known what to expect, but the whole time she'd been out, searching for the rope, Rider hadn't moved. He'd kept his hold on Sooner with a tenacious, rocklike patience that sent relief pouring through her.
In stark contrast to the still tableau of Rider and Sooner, her room looked like it had been the centre of a bomb blast,

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and the sheer, numbing violence of what had happened hit her all over again. Her bedroom was wrecked. Her dressing table listed to one side, the chair smashed. Broken glass, shards of porcelain, and bedclothes were strewn over the floor. One of her matching bedside lamps was on the floor-the base was whole, but the shade was crumpled beyond repair. The drapes at one window had been torn down, and the metal curtain rod was bent at a drunken angle. It was odd, but she had no memory of anything happening to the drapes.
Rider took the rope and began cinching Sooner's wrists and ankles up tight.
Jane studied the unconscious man's face. He was in his forties, not unhandsome, his shoulders bulky, as if he worked out. One eye was swollen, and his lip was cut. Other than that, he simply appeared to be unconscious. "Is he all right?"
Rider rose to his feet, and she noticed the reddened patches -on his torso where he'd been hit. "I pressed on his carotid and restricted the flow of blood to his brain. He's not hurt, just unconscious."
His gaze slid over her as if he had to reassure himself that she was okay, then he pulled her into his arms. "You're wet. What are you trying to do to me?"
She touched the split on his cheekbone, then used the wet sleeve of her shirt to dab at the blood. "In case you haven't noticed, we're still in the middle of a storm."
"I had my mind on other things."
"Uh-huh, and now the bedroom's wrecked."
"There's a bed at my place. Once we get rid of this turkey, will you come home with me?"
Warmth welled inside her and she couldn't stop the smile that spread across her face. She was wet, her hair tangled- she must look like she'd been dragged backward through a hedge, but Rider made her feel gorgeous and wanted and so gloriously female she could weep. "Yes."
Something like relief flared in his eyes. "Good. And you'll marry me."
Her smile turned into a grin. Yep, he was male. Give him an inch, and he took a mile. "I don't remember being asked."
"It was in the small print. You should read the contract before you fall in love."

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She wound her arms around his neck. "Who said I was in love?"
"You did. Every time I looked at you." His grin was faintly wicked. "And you did look."
A faint voice came from her pocket. She retrieved the phone and spoke to the agitated operator. "Tucker's on his way."
Rider groaned. "Am I supposed to be relieved?"
She handed him the phone. "You'd better talk to them. I think the Armed Offenders Squad is also on its way, which means we could be under siege at any minute."
Rider swore beneath his breath, and took the phone, his voice curt as he explained the situation.
Minutes later, he put the phone down and opened a window. "Tucker's here, along with the AOS. Hang on, while I call them off."
He leaned out the window and had a brief conversation, then pulled it closed against the wind and rain. It was almost fully light now, the day grey and cool.
Jane looked at the gun, which was lying on-the floor in the hallway, where she'd left it. "Yuk. I think I handled the murder weapon."
His arm came around her, tucking her in close against his side. "Don't worry about it. If Tucker can't figure this one out without eliminating your prints, I'll personally feed him that weapon. Then forensics will have a hell of a job getting their evidence."

Epilogue