Nemesis (Southern Comfort) (17 page)

Backing down the ladder, Sadie laid the quilt over her shoulder so that she would have both hands fr
ee with which to hold on.  She made it a little more than half way down when she felt two hands settle around her waist.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, so startled she nearly toppled off balance.

“Steady there,” came a warm, familiar drawl. Sadie looked over her shoulder to see a chagrinned expression on her security contractor’s face. “Didn’t mean to frighten you, Ms. Mayhew,” he said as he quickly released his grip. Then the chagrin turned to something chiding.  “I’d just hate to see you fall. These stairs ain’t what I’d call safe.”

Heat crept into Sadie’s cheeks.  She felt like a kid being gently scolded.  “I know, I know.”  She carefully continued down, turning toward Doug when her feet were safely on the floor.  “I was just trying to stay out of your way while you were working downstairs, and well, I haven’t been up in the attic since I was a kid, so curiosity got the better of me.”

“Find anything interesting?”

“Well, that depends on whether or not you consider ninety-six boxes of Christmas decorations interesting.”

“That many, huh?” He smiled.

“Seems like it.”

He peered up into the hole in the ceiling, rubbed his chin.  “If you’re going to be going up and down, I’ll make sure that we put installing that new unit on the schedule for tomorrow.   We can run out to the store, pick one up in the morning.”

Sadie started to tell him not to bother, then changed her mind.  “Actually, that’s perfect because I have a job interview in the morning and won’t be back until sometime after lunch.  Why don’t we say about one?  If that works with your schedule.”

“Sounds fine by me.”

“Super.  And thanks.  I know installing attic stairs isn’t in your usual job description.”

They chatted for a few more minutes before the two men knocked off for the day.

Feeling energized, Sadie decided to start painting her bedroom.  Why not?  She’d already picked up the paint – the restful blue of a lazy summer sky – a couple of days ago. Her hands were pretty much healed, and after her rocky start, things seemed to be moving along quite nicely. 

There’d been a bite on her resume, resulting in
the job interview for the following day. No one else had broken into her house, or chased her through a raging thunderstorm.

Always a bonus.

She hadn’t laid eyes – or any other pertinent body parts – on Declan in over a week.

As Sadie laid down drop cloths, taped off the moldings, she considered that the space, the time had allowed her to come to her senses.  She knew enough about crisis situations to understand that the people involved tended to form a… bond.  Sadie’d already been on shaky ground, emotionally speaking, given the fact that she’d thrown her life into upheaval.  Leaving Rick.  Quitting her job.  Returning home.

Add to that the terror she’d experienced that night – Sadie shivered as she unfolded the eight foot ladder.  The remnants of that terror hadn’t fully gone away – and of course she had been bound to look for something solid to cling to.

Granted, on the surface, it seemed crazy to see Declan as that something solid, but then they did have quite a bit of shared history.  And while most of that history consisted of him annoying the hell out
of her, she couldn’t pretend that it had all been bad.  That
he
was all bad.

She started rolling the paint onto the walls, and remembered how he’d looked, smelling that rose in his mother’s garden.

No, not all bad.

But she was still thankful things hadn’t gotten any farther than they did, because lord knew what a disaster that would have been.

Sadie stepped back, admiring
the fresh punch the blue paint added to the dingy walls, and considered painting some clouds on the ceiling.  This particular ceiling was higher than those in the rest of the second floor, and the room boasted more windows.  With the trees right outside, the soft blue on the walls, it would feel a little like living in a tree house.  She’d often wished she could just move into her old tree house as a kid, but this way she could enjoy the benefits without the mosquitoes.     

S
adie climbed the ladder, sketched the clouds out in her mind.  It felt good to have her artistic juices flowing again.

Despite the fact that her life since coming back home had been anything but calm, she nevertheless felt a sense of peace she hadn’t experienced in ages.

A rightness, she thought, stretching sideways to reach the portion of wall over the closet door.  A certain comfort and assurance that came from knowing she could finally just be herself.

A tranquility, a sure-footedness…

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

That question barked so aggressively was enough to upset her balance. She wobbled on the second highest rung.  Paint flew off her roller, sending a spray of blue across the ceiling.  Sadie slapped her free hand against the wall, but not in time to stop her knees from connecting sharply with the metal ladder.

She cried out at the cruel contact and lost her tenuous grip on the roller.  It fell to the part of the floor that wasn’t covered, landing with a squishy plop.   Reaching for the top of the ladder to steady herself, her wet hand slipped when a pair of strong hands closed around her waist for the second time that day. But this time she was plucked so ignobly from her precarious perch that she hissed in indignation.

Sadie
slapped her now-blue hand against the ladder-plucker’s chest, right over an impressive pectoral. 

Hot blue eyes matched hers flame for flame.

“The same could be asked of you, Murphy.”  With a great sense of relish she smeared her hand over his flannel shirt, and noticed that his heart was thumping.  Hers was, too, but that was only to be expected, considering he’d just scared ten years off her life.  “Thanks to you, there’s now paint all over the floor, not to mention your clothing.  Hope this shirt wasn’t one of your favorites.” 

If her tone was sarcastic he didn’t seem to notice, and Sadie frowned because he hadn’t said another word.  He was clutching her so tightly it had started to mess with her circulation. Not to mention what being this close to him did to her errant hormones. 
Despite her recent mental pep talk, the memory of that searing kiss they’d shared burned across her brain.

But Declan just stared vacantly at the ladder while sucking air in
shallow puffs. The very weird, glazed look in his eyes seemed caught somewhere between shock and pain.

Faintly alarmed, Sadie snapped her fingers in front of his face, which seemed to bring him back to his senses.  Relatively speaking, of course. 

Setting her on her feet, he looked at her with menace.  “You could have been killed,” he growled. “And I’m getting tired of riding to the rescue.”

Sadie’s sharp retort withered on her tongue as she processed the ridiculousness of what he’d said.  “Killed?” she finally inquired, disbelief ringing clear.  “I was standing on a ladder, not swinging from the chandelier.  And last time I checked, Sir Galahad, I hadn’t requested your knightly services.  Speaking of which, it’s customary to knock before you go charging into other people’s homes.”

“I saw you through the window,” he said, as if that explained anything at all.  “And you gave me a key.”

A fact which she currently regretted.  “Well let’s pretend you’re a vampire, shall we, and can’t come in unless you’re invited.”

Declan merely glowered.  Then ignored the rules of normal human conduct by stalking to the ladder and folding it up.

Sadie stalked right behind him and unfolded it.

“I’m using that, Declan.”

“No you’re not, Sadie Rose.”

She goggled, trying to find some logic behind his actions, but as usual he made no sense.  When he tried to take the ladder a minor scuffle ensued, producing the predictable outcome.

“What is
wrong
with you, Murphy?” Sadie asked from beneath the iron band of his arm, where he’d trapped her with an absurd lack of effort.  Frustrated beyond redemption, she regressed to tactics long out of use.  Declan let out a virulent curse when her teeth sank into his biceps.

“Damn it, woman, would you just be reasonable for one minute?”

“Me?” Sadie’s tone was incredulous as he released her to examine his arm.  “I’m not the one who freaked out and started manhandling people who were innocently trying to paint!”

“The walls look fine just the way they are.”

She slid her gaze toward the contrast between the old plaster and the fresh paint, arching the
you can’t be serious
eyebrow his way.

“Then I’ll paint the damn walls for you.”

Sadie blinked, because enough was enough.  He was like a human pendulum that swung back and forth between aloof indifference and overprotective insanity.  “I enjoy painting, you great lumbering idiot, although I appreciate the offer.  Your manner of delivery, however, needs work.  Now if you’ll excuse me,” she prepared to move past him, “I need to take a rag and get that paint off the wood floor.”

She hadn’t gone two steps when she felt herself lifted and literally tossed through the air onto the bed.  Before she’d had a chance to adjust to the unexpected change in position, Declan dragged the ladder across the room.  Sadie scrambled to her knees and
, stunned, watched him open the window until it was gaping.  With an almost effortless heave the ladder went out, clattering noisily against the metal roof.

She sputtered, positively beside herself with astonishment.  “You threw my ladder out the window.  You
threw
my
ladder
out the
window
!”

Bolting from the bed, she joined him in watching t
he ladder cling precariously to a branch of one of the live oaks.  Even as they stood there, the branch gave way with a loud crack.

“Takes care of that,” Declan muttered.

“Takes care of that? 
Takes care of that!”
  Sadie felt her temper attain flashpoint, fueled by the flame of confused frustration.  “You threw my ladder out the window.  I’m not sure if anyone’s pointed this out to you lately, but you are out of your flippin’ mind.  Now march down those stairs and bring me back my ladder.  Better yet,” she reconsidered, because there was no telling to what that might lead, “you stay here and I’ll go get it.  We wouldn’t want the voices in your head to confuse you into attacking it with your chainsaw.”

“You will not,” Declan grabbed her arm, “go anywhere near that ladder.  I see you on it again and I will not be responsible for my actions.”

“Well, now.  There would be something new.” 

“No ladders, Sadie.  I mean it.”

“You need a padded room.”

She jerked her arm.  Declan tightened his grip.  Another tug of war ensued, with further predictable results, amounting to Sadie backed against the wall.  Wet p
aint soaked through her long-sleeved T-shirt. 

“Let me go.”

“No.”

Declan’s hips pushed into hers. It should have been offensive, in every sense of the word, but her brain didn’t seem to be functioning.  Most likely due to exposure to the paint fumes. 

Or possibly a couple hundred pounds of testosterone-laden male.

She glanced up at the male in question, all grumpy and covered in
blue latex.  Somehow, the combination worked.  He was certifiably gorgeous.  Probably just plain certifiable. And she had no business enjoying the fact that he was pressed hard against her thrumming body.

“You’re crazy,” Sadie repeated, desperate to jump-start her brain cells.

“No doubt.”

And his eyes, when they bored into hers, were certainly glazed with something mindless.

Her panting kicked up another notch. Her breath caught with an audible hitch.

Declan pressed – ever so slightly pressed – his swollen loins into her stomach.

If she gasped, she didn’t see how it could be her fault.

Nor was the fact that she returned the pressure. Any woman with even a modicum of sense was bound to struggle in this type of situation. So she did, mostly with her hips. 

Just so he would back off and they could discuss his lack of reason.

Not because she enjoyed that sort of contact in the least. 

Declan groaned – growled, maybe – made some kind of noise deep in his throat, which produced a corresponding shiver in her bloodstream. And she thought
hell
, who was she trying to kid here?  She enjoyed it way too much.

Her breasts grew heavy, her eyelids fell.  Liquid heat pooled between her legs.  Like a switch had been flipped
inside her just by virtue of Declan coming into the room.  

Declan
watched her going limp with desire and felt himself harden to the point of pain.  There were reasons he shouldn’t be doing this – something about the wrong road, or maybe it was train wrecks – but his brain was too fogged to think straight.