Read Online London Falling by Emma Carr - Free Book Online

control it. Her face tightened in response, and he immediately wanted to take the comment back.
    Damn, his emotions were swinging wildly from side to side. One moment he wanted to drag her down the steps and toss her on the street, and the next he wanted to hold her and tell her everything would be all right. What was this woman doing to him?
    “I apologize. It’s just that I haven’t got an appetite.”
    “You need liquids. You’re probably dehydrated.”
    “Okay, Nurse Ratched. If I drink something will you leave me in peace to sleep?”
    She handed him the bowl of chicken broth. “If I’m Nurse Ratched, that means you’re crazy.”
    “Touché.” He mock-saluted her with the spoon. The broth was lukewarm at best, and his entire digestive system rebelled at the liquid attack, but he somehow forced it down. “If I have to eat this rubbish, you’ve got to answer a few questions for me.”
    She immediately looked towards the door. Of course, she had to be wishing she were anywhere but in here, but if he was going to suffer her presence in his house, she was going to suffer his presence now.
    “Sit.” He motioned to the chair she most recently vacated.
    She harrumphed like an old lady as she sprawled in the chair. The Scottie immediately tried to hop into her lap, but he was too small to make the leap.
    She dissuaded the puppy by poking her index finger at his chest. The way she snatched her hand back and moved her foot when the puppy laid his head on her sock made it seem like she wasn’t comfortable around dogs.
    “How did your Scottie enter the picture?”
    She looked at the puppy as though she’d never seen it before. “I already told you.”
    “If you remember correctly, I was two seconds from losing my entire Christmas dinner. I wasn’t exactly paying close attention to you.”
    “Gross.” She peered down at the puppy again. “How do you know it’s a Scottie? It looks like one of those retriever dogs to me.”
    “A Lab?” She nodded. “No. He’s definitely a Scottie.”
    “How do you know?”
    “Our gardener bred Scotties.”
    “Your gardener bred Scotties. Of course.” She clenched her teeth together and spoke with the worst British accent he’d ever heard in his life. “Because whose gardener doesn’t breed Scotties?”
    “Do I detect a note of defensiveness?”
    Her smile disappeared. Ah yes, he was on to her.
    She eyed the dog with ill-concealed skepticism. The Scottie, now aware of her attention, hopped to his feet, prepared for any move she might make.
    “How do you know it’s a he?”
    Was she really asking that question? “Most evidently because he’s got a willy.”
    She reacted quite oddly to his comment, looking like she wanted to disappear through the floor until she had got over the embarrassment of it.
    Interesting. Why would this tough-as-nails, ‘I can handle anything’ woman react that way?
    “You don’t like dogs, do you?” he asked.
    “Of course I like dogs. Who doesn’t like dogs? You’d have to pretty cold-hearted to not like dogs.”
    Very clearly, she didn’t like dogs. “They make you uncomfortable, then.”
    “I don’t think they make me uncomfortable. I’m just not used to them.”
    She moved her foot another two inches from the puppy. “They’re slobbery, and smelly, and they could bite.”
    “You were bitten by a dog?”
    “Yes. A pack of wild beagles attacked me when I was quite young and, ever since then, I’ve had a giant fear of dogs. Not to mention a bionic aim where the largest beagle bit my real aim off.”
    Good God this woman had a chip on her shoulder the size of England.
    “You do remember that I hold all the cards in this situation? And I’m ill.
    You’d do best not to annoy me and to get on my good side.”
    “I believe I hold one or two cards, too. Do you have a good side?”
    He gave her what he hoped was a menacing look, but he coughed and ruined the effect.
    She sighed. “I was never bitten by a dog. And I’m