How To Rope A Rich Cowboy (Silver Springs Ranch #2) - Anya Summers Page 0,3
the rain out of his eyes. He glared at his squatter.
“Who the hell are you? This is private property,” he yelled loudly with the thunder booming.
She bared her teeth. Her eyes dominated her face. They were a rich mahogany that glowered with venom, and she snapped, “If you’re just going to yell at me, go away. I need to get this stuff inside before it becomes waterlogged and useless.” She struggled with the equipment. Her hands slipped. The weight of it was almost too much for her slight frame.
She might be a squatter, but Colt wouldn’t kick her out in a storm like this. Squatter or not, he wouldn’t have her death on his hands, even if her attitude made him want to wring her elegant neck.
“Leave it. This storm is only getting worse,” Colt barked, his fury rising in undiluted potency. He waved his hand in the direction of the ominous clouds as they turned day into night. The woman was risking her neck for a bunch of stuff that would be worthless if she lost her life in the process.
“All this equipment costs more than your damn horse. If you’re not going to help, at least move out of my damn way so I can get it inside,” she snarled, fighting against the rain and wind as she struggled.
The urge to throttle her swept through Colt. He glanced skyward and back at the damn fool woman.
“Shit.” He moved past her up the stairs, and set his saddlebag and rifle just inside the door. Then he jogged down the stairs to where she stood, struggling with the telescope. He gripped the opposite side, and lifted the slick device up. Shocked by its weight, he wordlessly helped her carry it up the porch stairs and inside, where she already had a few pieces standing throughout the studio cabin.
Working together quickly, they hauled every piece of apparatus inside, fighting the wind and rain. What was she, an astronomy club gone wild? Colt had never seen so many telescopes for one person. One by one, they hauled them into the cabin until they had retrieved them all from outside.
The telescopes and corresponding equipment filled the small space, dripping everywhere. Colt could only wonder about the water damage these things would do to the hardwood floors.
In the interior light, he studied the woman while she flitted around the equipment, apparently unconcerned that she was just as wet, or that she was alone with a strange man who had a firearm. She used the big plush towels that they stocked in the bathrooms to dry off the gear.
This was one of their honeymoon cabins with an open plan floor. The walls were a golden, honey-toned wood, and the hardwood floors matched them in color, giving it a feeling of warmth. On the left was a pinewood king bed with matching nightstands, and a chest of drawers against the wall. On the left beyond the bed was the bathroom that held a full-size tub and shower, and was the only room that was walled off. There was a full-sized fridge, and electric stove in the kitchen on the far right. There was even a stacked washer and dryer unit on the wall between the bathroom and kitchen. But directly to Colt’s right was the living room with big, plush dark brown sofas, and his uninvited guest and all her equipment taking up every ounce of free space.
The woman was maybe pushing five two, making her a good foot shorter than he was. She was slight and trim; her jeans had holes in them and were plastered to her slim legs. Her yellow tank top was slicked against her chest and damn near translucent from the dousing it had sustained. As it was, the thin material outlined the high swell of her breasts. The nipples were drawn into taut points beneath it and pushed enticingly against the see-through material.
But it was her face that drew him the most. She had smooth, unblemished skin that was sun kissed golden, delicate, high cheekbones, and a wide, generous mouth currently set with grim determination as she moved around the gear. The tip of her slim nose was slightly upturned, and her eyes were like dark, liquid pools of mahogany framed by thick, inky lashes. Her dark hair ran over her shoulders to drape against her chest and back, but he thought it might be lighter in color when dry, more of a tawny caramel than a burnt walnut.