Read Online Crossfire Christmas by Julie Miller - Free Book Online

connected it to the wall jack. “Hey!”
    “My rules, darlin’.” That cord ended up in the pocket with her keys as he scanned the main rooms of her apartment, no doubt looking for any other means of communication to disable. When his gaze landed on her again, the bully who gave the orders was back. “Pull that table over in front of the door.”
    “You have the gun, remember? I’m not running.”
    “Forgive me if I don’t trust you.”
    With a huff, Teresa scooted the chair aside and lifted the edge of the oak table she’d inherited from her mother.
    “Wait.” Before she’d dragged it a foot, he was waving her away from the table with the gun and pointing into the living room. “Try the sofa.” Again, as soon as she started sliding it across the carpet, he stopped her. He nodded to the armoire against the wall where her television and sound system were stored. “Can you move that?”
    A tad breathless, Teresa straightened, shoving her long, damp hair off her face. “Not unless I empty it out first.”
    “Good.”
    “What are you...?” As she curled her cold toes inside her boots to curb the urge to stop him, he put his good shoulder to the thick oak wood and pushed it in front of the door, effectively barricading the exit.
    “Like I said, I don’t...trust...” He was bent over, breathing heavily, the fist with the gun braced on one knee, by the time he was finished. The man was running on fumes and sheer determination. But even that massive stubborn streak wouldn’t sustain him much longer.
    “You really have a death wish, don’t you. You’d better sit before you keel over.” She picked up the blanket that had fallen to the floor and hooked her hand beneath his elbow, guiding him over to a stool at the kitchen peninsula. She draped the blanket over his head and shoulders, futilely trying to ignore the way, even when he was sitting down, that he was still a head taller than she was. It was equally hard not to notice how his chest and shoulders were broad and muscled and seriously imposing up close like this. She didn’t need the gun in his lap or the nothing-to-lose expression in his eyes to know she was completely at his mercy. She tucked the tattered edges of the blanket together and quietly pulled away. “Try to stay warm while I get my things.”
    Instead of obeying even that most practical suggestion, he sloughed the blanket to the floor and stumbled after her into the bathroom, where she fetched her first-aid kit. His ragged breathing stirred the crown of her hair as he trailed her to the linen closet, too, where she pulled out her sewing kit and a stack of towels and washcloths.
    But when she would have returned to the kitchen, he raised the gun and forced her on into the bedroom at the end of the hall. He spotted the phone on her bedside table and disconnected its cord just as he had the one in the kitchen. “You can work in here.”
    “In my bedroom?” What kind of sick twist was he adding to this abduction-and-intimidation game now? “Look, I don’t know what else you think you can threaten me with, but I won’t let you touch—”
    “Don’t flatter yourself, Peewee. In another lifetime, I might be tempted by all those curves. But tonight I only need you to be my nur...se.” He swore at the strain of shoving her bed in front of the window and the snow-packed fire escape outside. He collapsed onto the edge of the mattress, cradling his wounded arm in his lap. His rugged face was pale as a ghost, his lips quivering and nostrils flaring as he struggled to catch his breath. With another vicious curse, he tugged his ruined jacket off his shoulder, slowly uncovering the flak vest and her blood-soaked scarf sticking out from the neck and armhole. “The only other point of entry to your apartment is in here. And you’ll have to get past me to get out.”
    If it hadn’t been for the gun clutched in his fist, she’d have banked on him passing out and would have climbed right over him