Excerpt from "Meltdown" by Susan St. Thomas

This was a very bad idea, Cassie thought.

She looked at her slightly swollen ankle. She could limp up the hill. “Ah, Evan, you don’t have to carry me anymore....”

Black eyes speared hers, ending any vote of doubt. One last jostle, then he turned, military-style, and marched up the steep slope to the motel. He wasn’t even breathing hard when they arrived at the top.

Amazing.

She was winded from being carried.

“What room?” he asked tersely.

“This is far enough...one-oh-five. It’s in the back.”

For a minute she thought he’d drop her and drag her by the hair, caveman style, he looked so dangerous. When they reached the door he took the key from her hand and cleared the threshold, still trapping her in his arms.

The door slammed shut.

In pitch darkness, Evan placed her in the center of the small loveseat.

Humph. The MRT officer had no need of infrared goggles with his night vision.

The end table light flashed on, momentarily blinding her.

Where’d he go?

Every drape in the room fluttered, as if someone moved in the inky darkness. Then she heard running water.

“Where’s the first-aid kit?” Evan’s voice boomed from the bathroom.

“In my backpack. In the closet. I can handle it from here.”

No way was she going to allow him to continue.

Crash...

What was that sound?

It came from outside.

She stood up, and nearly fell to the carpet from the shock of pain up her leg, but her spine tingled, forcing her to hobble over to the window.

Nothing but cars in the parking lot, but the creepy feeling persisted. The water shut off in the bathroom, so she drew the curtains closed and hopped back to the couch. No need to let Evan know she was slowly loosing her mind thinking she was hearing and seeing things.

Evan came out of the bathroom with one dry towel wrapped around his neck and another folded in his hands, dripping. She balanced gingerly on one foot. He frowned.

Tempted to laugh at his expression, she thought better of it and bit her lip.


“You better let me tend to your ankle,” he said, moving toward her, “otherwise, you won’t be able to stand let alone walk or canoe. Tony will be disappointed.”

Tony...? Disappointed...? Canoeing...?

When did she forget about her plans for tomorrow?

When the superhero picked her up and left her brains on the sidewalk. Good thing she’d sworn off Godiva-eyed blonds. “I can take care—”

A firm tap on her shoulder toppled her back onto the cushions.

“I need to examine your ankle...to make sure it’s not broken.”

Before she could protest, he’d knelt at her feet.

His hands lifted her foot from the floor, removed the blown-out flip-flop and tossed it over his shoulder. His fingers circled her ankle, he looked into her eyes, and squeezed.

“Does it hurt when I do this?”

Hurt? You’re killing me, she wanted to shout.

Besides the bolt of pain, she felt his warm touch all the way up her leg, to her already moist panties.

He waited for her answer.

“No. Not a bit.”

Those hot-poker fingers slid lower.

She squinted anticipating the pain.

Carefully he flexed her foot, all the while watching her face.

She couldn’t hide her wince.

How was she ever going to get out of this one?