Cowboy Resurrected. Elle James

mouth working, but nothing came out.

      “Which brings me back to my original theory. You’re an illegal alien.”

      “I’m not. My mother is American and, though I was born in Mexico, I have dual citizenship.”

      He held out his hand. “Then you won’t mind showing me your passport.”

      She stared at his hand, her throat muscles working at swallowing the lump lodged in her windpipe. “I don’t have it on me.”

      “Thought so. No documents, riding a bike across the desert near the border, helicopter in pursuit.” He snorted. “You are definitely an illegal and possibly dangerous.”

      “Think what you will.” She tossed back her long light brown hair. “Tomorrow I’ll be away from here, and you won’t have to worry about me.”

      “I wouldn’t count on that.”

      She frowned. “Count on what?”

      “That you’ll be gone, or that I wouldn’t worry about you. I’ve kinda taken a liking to you. Must have been the fall.” He raised his hand to the back of his head.

      “I’m sorry to say I have not taken a liking to you, señor,” she said, tipping her chin upward.

      “Really?” Thorn leaned close, his eyes narrowing even more. He stared at her long enough to make her squirm.

      Then he tilted his head back and laughed out loud. “You are entirely too naive and predictable, Sophia.”

      She harrumphed, clasping her arms around her body. “I’m happy you find me amusing.”

      Lightning flashed, sending shards of light through cracks in the boarded windows, followed by a deafening clap of thunder.

      Sophia jumped, bumping into Thorn’s naked chest. She raised a hand to steady herself and encountered smooth, hard muscles. Heat suffused her entire body. She might not like the man, but she couldn’t help admiring his physique. She told herself it was nothing more than appreciation for a fine form.

      Her belly rumbled loudly, reminding her that she needed to eat or risk dry heaves. And preparing food would allow her to put distance between herself and Thorn. She nodded toward the food on the bed. “I’m hungry.”

      “So you said.” He reached out.

      Sophia flinched, raising her hand to block his as she ducked.

      Thorn’s frown deepened. “Did you think I’d hit you?”

      Sophia straightened, her body tense. “You wouldn’t be the first man.”

      He continued to reach past her. Plucking a metal object from a shelf on the wall, he held it up. “I was reaching for the can opener.” Thorn tossed the device on the bed and turned to grip her arms. “For the record, I don’t hit women.”

      She planted her feet wide, her eyes narrowing to slits. “No? But you grab them and hold them hostage.”

      “Damn it, woman. For your own good.”

      “And how is being a captive good?” She snorted. “You’re like most men, thinking a woman must be controlled, that she doesn’t have a brain to think for herself.”

      “You’re putting words in my mouth.” His hands fell to his sides. “Given that you could have died with your friend Hector and might have been caught in a flash flood or struck by lightning, I think I can prove my case for keeping you here.”

      She shrugged and ducked around him. “I don’t care what you prove.” Sophia grabbed the can opener and set it against the lid on the can of beans. After several attempts, she gave up, her stomach twisting, the hollow feeling making her nauseous.

      “Good grief, woman.” Thorn took the can and opener out of her hands. “It’s not rocket science.”

      “No? Then you do it.” She backed away from him, the nausea increasing until heat radiated through her body and she knew she couldn’t hold back any longer. Sophia ran for the door, her footsteps drowned out by the pounding of rain on the tin roof. Her hand closed around the knob as the first wave hit.

      Before she could yank the door open, a hand closed over hers. “Going somewhere, sweetheart?” Thorn asked, staring down at her, his brows drawn together in a fierce frown. “I thought we’d settled all this running away stuff, at least until after the storm.”

      She clawed at his hand. “Please.” Sophia swallowed again and again, trying to force the bile back. “I have to get out.”

      He moved to stand in front of her, his arms locked over his chest like a barroom bouncer. “No.”

      “So be it.” She heaved. What remained of the food she’d eaten the night before rose like a projectile up her throat. She bent in time to miss Thorn’s face, but anointed his bare feet.

      The heaving continued until Sophia’s body shook so badly she fell to her knees on the hard wooden floor.

      She cowered, waiting for Thorn to curse her and call her stupid for barfing on his feet. Sophia braced her body for the beating that was sure to follow.

      The harsh words and beatings never came.

      When the wave of sickness abated, she lay down on the floor, pressing her heated cheek to the cool wood.

      Thorn crouched beside her, brushing her hair away from her face. “I’m sorry. Had I known you were sick—”

      Thorn’s voice washed over Sophia like a warm blanket. She lay with her eyes closed, one hand pressed to her mouth, the other to her belly, afraid to move and set off the nausea all over again. “I’ll be okay. I just need to eat.”

      “You can’t lie there on the floor.” He touched her arm. “Let me help you to the bed.”

      “No.” She brushed away his hand. “Leave me alone. It’ll pass.” After several minutes, her head quit spinning and she dared to open her eyes. “I’m sorry I threw up on you.”

      “I’ll live.” His frown had softened to an expression of concern. “Think you can move now?”

      She nodded, lying there for a moment longer before attempting the simple task.

      “I’m going to clean up this mess.” Thorn moved about the cabin, the soft rustles giving away his location and negating the need for Sophia to look.

      Before she could brace her hands on the floor and push herself to a sitting position, Thorn’s strong fingers scooped beneath her legs and back, and he lifted her up in his arms in one smooth, easy motion.

      Sophia closed her eyes, praying her stomach wouldn’t churn and release again. “Please, put me down.”

      “I will.” He crossed to the mattress he’d unfolded for himself and laid her out on a blanket. “I found another blanket in a box.”

      With the back of her hand resting over her eyes, she breathed in and out several times, her mouth tasting so bad she feared she’d lose it again.

      The snap of metal on metal made her glance across at Thorn.

      With deft fingers, he had the can of beans open in a few quick twists of the can-opener key.

      Sophia’s lips tipped upward. “How is it you say...show-off.”

      “I never learned how to cook, so I had to get good at eating canned food or starve.”

      She smiled.

      * * *

      THORN’S HEART TUMBLED and came to a crashing stop.

      Despite her pale face and slightly green complexion, her smile managed to light up the room, chasing away Thorn’s natural distrust of the woman who’d done nothing but lie to him the entire time they’d been together. Something about her sad eyes and her inherent vulnerability called to his protective