Read Online Snowbound Bride-to-Be by Cara Colter - Free Book Online Page B

hear what that meant, so she directed the flashlight beam to the focal point of the room, a beautiful antique four-poster with a lace canopy, layered with luxurious silk bedding and pillows in subtle shades of green.
    “Nice piece of furniture,” he said. Trying to gain ground for his “old-wreck” remark? Not wanting to let her know what the crack meant, either? Feeling sorry for her because she had never had a good Christmas?
    She had shown dozens of guests to their rooms and never felt like this before.
    As if the bed was a strangely intimate piece of furniture, and she was tempting something to be in here alone with him.
    “It’s not really a nice piece of furniture,” she said, trying to sound as if she was not strangling. “The first night I put guests in it, it broke.”
    She had meant it to sound funny but it sounded pathetic, lost her any ground she had gained at presenting herself as a competent professional. Instead, she felt her own failing.
    But he didn’t notice. “Hmm. That sounds interesting. What were they doing?”
    That strangling sound in her throat intensified. She refused to answer him or even look at him. Wild-child had a few ideas about what they might have been doing, but Emma was ignoring wild-child. She redirected the flashlight beam and hurried to the bed.
    “Do you think we can just leave it made up?” She didn’t wait for her answer, lifted a corner of the mattress, struggled to swing it off the bed frame and retain her grip on the flashlight.
    “Stop it,” he said. “You take the bedding and light the way for me. I’ll get the mattress.”
    “I can clearly see if I let you get away with bossing me around once, you’ll turn into a complete horror.”
    “As if I’m not already,” he muttered. “Emma, I’m being reasonable. The mattress is too big for you.”
    “You are looking at a woman who refinished every inch of flooring in this place by herself. I’ve knocked down walls. I’ve repaired plumbing. I’ve been up on the roof. I’ve—” failed to pay the bills, failed to impress my mother, lost my fiancé over this place …
    He held up his hand before she could rush on with her list. “Stop,” he said dryly. “I’m having a heart attack thinkingabout it.” But he was obviously thinking about it, because that familiar scowl creased his brow. “I hope you didn’t put those Christmas lights on the peak of the roof yourself.”
    Tim had already given her a very thorough lecture about that. She wasn’t listening to another one.
    “I’m just making the point—I can handle my end of the mattress.” She turned the flashlight beam on the floor so he couldn’t see her face, which was blushing as if she had said something about sex. Couldn’t I have worded that differently?
    “Why do I have a feeling that what you think you can handle and what you really can handle are two entirely different things?”
    “Because you’re a chauvinist pig?” she asked, keeping her voice deliberately sweet, glad he couldn’t see her face because his statement could sum up her knowledge of sex, too.
    “Gee, and a minute ago I was worried you were going to fall down the steps and have the mattress and me land on top of you. Now I’m thinking if you fell, could you at least bite your tongue? Preferably off.”
    “You charmer, you.”
    Was a desert-island camaraderie developing between them? Wild-child was jumping up and down at the desert-island possibilities.
    “At least let me take the end that’s going down the stairs first.”
    “No,” she said stubbornly. Woman-scorned, who didn’t need a man taking charge of anything, took over. She picked up the foot of the mattress and began dragging it along the floor, leaving him with no choice but to pick up the other end. She was trying not to grunt as they headed for the stairs, but the mattress was an awkward bundle, hard to get a grip on, heavier than she had thought it would be.
    As it turned out, he’d been right about