The Millionaire's Snowbound Seduction

She had to turn him over, see if he was alive or dead. And to manage that, she needed light.

There were candles in the kitchen; she’d used one to see her way upstairs an hour or two ago. Was it safe to turn her back, leave the room, leave this—this creature lying here? Suppose he awoke? Suppose he stood up? Suppose…

‘Ooooh.’

Holly leaped back. He was moaning. And moving. Very, very slightly, but at least he was alive. She hadn’t killed him.

The man groaned again. It was a pitiful sound. Her heart thumped. How badly had she injured him? She couldn’t see. Couldn’t tell. For all she knew, he might be lying there, bleeding to death.

‘Mister?’

There was no response.

‘Hey, Mister!’

Holly took a tentative step forward. She poked him with her toe, then poked him again. Carefully, she squatted down beside the still form and jabbed him with a finger.

Nothing happened.

Holly heaved a sigh of relief. Good. He was still unconscious. As for his wounds—that could wait. Right now, she needed to find something to tie him with.

The man groaned and rolled onto his back, one arm thrown over his face. Holly leapt to her feet and scrambled into the shadows.

‘Don’t move!’ she said. Oh, that sounded pathetic! She cleared her throat, dropped her voice to what she hoped was something raspy and threatening. ‘Don’t move another inch, or so help me I’ll…I’ll shoot.’ And she brandished the portable phone before her.

Move? Move?

Nick would have laughed at the idea, if he hadn’t been afraid that laughing would make his skull crack open. The last time his head had felt like this was in fourth grade when Eddie Schneider, excited at the prospect of striking out the last guy up, had managed to bean him with a fastball.

‘You hear me, Mister? Don’t even think about moving.’

It was a boy’s voice, young and unsteady. Well, hell. Nick felt pretty unsteady himself. On the other hand, the last thing he wanted to do was lie here, at the mercy of a dangerous kid armed with a gun and some kind of animal that attacked people.

He had to sit up, if he was going to get out of this in one piece.

Nick forced another groan, which wasn’t very difficult, all things considered.

‘Gotta sit up,’ he said thickly. ‘My head…’ He swallowed. ‘If I don’t sit up, I’m liable to toss my cookies.’

‘No!’ The kid’s voice cracked. ‘I mean…okay. Sit. But no fast moves. You got that?’

Nick nodded. A huge mistake. His head felt as if it might fall off. On the other hand, that might not be such a bad idea.

Carefully, he eased himself up with his back against the wall.

‘Damn,’ he said, ‘what was that thing?’

‘What thing?’

‘That animal. The cat.’

‘Cat?’ Holly said. She swallowed dryly. Oh, boy. This was bad. He was hallucinating again. First blood, and humans. Now cats…

‘Yeah. You know, the one wearing the perfume.’

Holly took another step back. ‘Cats don’t wear perfume,’ she said carefully.

‘This one did, when it attacked me.’

He was crazy, all right. And you didn’t argue with a crazy man, you just acted as calmly as you could.

‘There’s…’ Her voice slipped up the scale, and she cleared her throat. ‘There’s no cat here, Mister.’

‘Dog, then. Was it a dog? I hope to hell you’ve locked it in another room.’

On the other hand, what could it hurt to let him think she had an attack dog by her side?

‘It’s a, uh, a…’ Think, Holly, think. What kind of dog was big and tough? All she could come up with was an image of the cocker spaniel that had lived in the house next door, in Tuscany. ‘It’s, uh, a Rottweilder.’

‘A what?’

‘A Rottweilder.’

Nick hesitated. ‘You mean, a Rottweiler.’

Holly shut her eyes, then opened them again. ‘That’s what I said. A Rottweiler, and don’t you even breathe funny or I’ll turn him loose on you.’

What she’d said was Rottweilder. Nick was sure of it. And a very well trained one it must be, for it not to be making a sound, not even a growl or a pant.

‘Where is it?’

‘Where is what?’

‘The dog?’

‘It’s—it’s here, right beside me. You want a closeup look? I’ll let go of its collar.’

‘No,’ Nick said quickly, ‘no, that’s okay…’

There was no dog beside the kid, not a Rotter or even a poodle. The kid was standing in the shadows but his outline was visible and there was nothing beside him, except for a chair.