Read Online Grave Secrets by Linda Trout - Free Book Online Page B

have hurt. Even in his drunken state.
    The adrenaline rush gone, her legs turned to rubber. With unladylike grace, she plopped into the dirt. I did it. I really did it. She grinned, mentally patting herself on the back. She’d never been in a situation where she had to physically defend herself before. Even though her actions had been clumsy at best, she now had a greater sense of self confidence. She’d led a fairly sheltered life, didn’t have any “street smarts,” yet when faced with a dire situation, she’d been able to take care of herself. At least to a certain degree. Extremely proud of herself, she wanted to bask in the moment.
    “Sara!” came a deep, gravelly voice.
    Startled, she twisted around. Morgan stormed toward her. Ignoring her hammering heart, she sat quietly, waiting for him as if she didn’t have a care in the world.
    He stood over her, glaring. And looking downright terrifying. Hands fisted, his eyes were narrowed, lips thinned, and his jaw set. He looked every bit the predator he’d reminded her of the day before. Danger dripped off him in droves. For some reason, Sara wasn’t the least bit afraid.
    “What the hell is going on here?” His voice had a hard, cold edge to it.
    Leaning back and craning her neck, she couldn’t resist the impulse to take in every inch of his rock hard body as she gathered her composure. Today he had on cowboy boots, faded jeans, and a denim shirt. He didn’t look anything like an investigator. She should know—she’d dealt with enough of them. She made a point of looking over her shoulder, and as if on cue, the drunk groaned.
    Quite casually, she said, “What it looks like, I suppose. What do you think is going on?” For emphasis, she raised her eyebrows.
    He took a step to her side, peering into the grave before turning back to her. “Do you know how lucky you are?”
    Sara didn’t reply. She knew it had been more luck than expertise that had saved her. If the man hadn’t lost his footing and landed in the hole, and if Morgan hadn’t shown up, she still could have been in a lot of trouble. She hated being so vulnerable, but was glad it had all worked out. This time, anyway. She made a mental note to practice those moves Cat had taught her a little more often.
    Extending her hand, she waited for him to help her up. He finally took hold and pulled her to her feet in one swift motion. Pain shot through her arm. “Ow!” He let go so fast she almost tripped. Suddenly his hands circled her waist, holding her close. Lost in his dark eyes, she simply stood for a long moment and stared. Another groan from the hole broke her stupor, and she stepped back. What was wrong with her?
    “You’re hurt,” Morgan said.
    Looking through the tattered sleeve, she studied the bruise forming on her upper arm, knowing there was a similar bruise on the other arm. That explains it.
    “At least you aren’t bleeding this time,” he said with a wry smile.
    She grinned, remembering the episode in the study. “No, thank goodness. However, this ‘gentleman’ was determined I have a drink with him. He didn’t much care for it when I politely refused.”
    Morgan’s glare darkened a bit more when he looked at her torn sleeve again.
    After she tucked her purse back on her shoulder, she rubbed each of her upper arms with her hands. “He’s stronger than he looks.”
    The corner of his mouth quirked upward up for a brief moment. “You surprised me. When I saw y’all going at it, I thought you didn’t stand a chance. Looks like I was wrong.”
    “A new concept for you?” When he ignored her, she asked. “Well?”
    He stepped back. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
    A voice floated up from the open hole. “Hey! Whadda ’bout me?” Hic.
    Morgan scowled as he looked into the grave.
    “Get me outta’ here, man. And keep that bitch away from me. I should have ’er arrested for bodily harm. Oooh. I don’ feel so good.”
    Sara peered down at the drunk, sitting