Strange Bedfellows
Книга "Strange Bedfellows", автором которой является Кейси Майклс, представляет собой захватывающую работу в жанре Современная зарубежная литература. В этом произведении автор рассказывает увлекательную историю, которая не оставит равнодушными читателей.
Автор мастерски воссоздает атмосферу напряженности и интриги, погружая читателя в мир загадок и тайн, который скрывается за хрупкой поверхностью обыденности. С прекрасным чувством языка и виртуозностью сюжетного развития, Кейси Майклс позволяет читателю погрузиться в сложные эмоциональные переживания героев и проникнуться их судьбами. Майклс настолько живо и точно передает неповторимые нюансы человеческой психологии, что каждая страница книги становится путешествием в глубины человеческой души.
"Strange Bedfellows" - это не только захватывающая история, но и искусство, проникнутое глубокими мыслями и философскими размышлениями. Это произведение призвано вызвать у читателя эмоциональные отклики, задуматься о важных жизненных вопросах и открыть новые горизонты восприятия мира.
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As a devastating summer storm hits Grand Springs, Colorado, the next thirty-six hours will change the town and its residents foreverâ¦
When school guidance counselor Cassandra Mercer spots cocky single dad Sean Frame stranded on the road in the middle of the worst storm Grand Springs has ever seen, it feels like poetic justice. Heâs questioned her methods with his troubled son every chance he gets. Having him at her mercy would be so satisfying. And heâs pretty damn hotâespecially soaking wet.
Sean would rather be trapped in a bank vault than accept help from the infuriating Cassandra. But when a mudslide traps the couple inside her car, the intense chemistry that has fueled their battles sparks an entanglement of a different kind.
When the skies clear, they have a chance at rescue. But where do they go from there?
Book 2 of the 36 Hours series. Donât miss Book 3: The storm brings new life and a chance for new beginnings in Ooh Baby, Baby by Diana K. Whitney.
Contents
Chapter One
As she rounded a curve in the highway, Cassandra Mercer recognized the tall form she saw about one hundred yards in the distance.
And then she smiled, quietly deciding that there was a Godâand She was on her side.
Because, after a grueling three-hour school board meeting during which her nemesis, her thorn in the side, her most blockheaded, stubborn, unreasonable parent, had once more made her life miserable by questioning her methods in the area of student counseling, she was now watching this same nemesis walk along the side of the road in a driving rainstorm.
Some might even call it a bit of well-deserved poetic justice.
âAh,â she said mockingly, her smile turning to a cheek-splitting grin even as she lifted her foot from the gas pedal. âWas that your brand-new Mercedes I saw abandoned about a half mile back, Mr. Sean Oughta-be-fitted-for-a-Frame and then hanged? I thought so, but I guess I just didnât believe life could be this good. Lovely weather for a long, cold, wet walk, donât you think?â
And she laughed.
The June weather in Grand Springs had been rather pleasant when she had driven up this same twisting road on her way to Burke Senior High School that same morning. But, as sheâd learned during her years living in Colorado, the weather was always subject to quick change, and June had been a more than usually damp month this year.
Wet, soggy.
But the sun had come out for a while that morning, so Cassandra had optimistically left her raincoat at home. Now, as yet another rainstorm battered against the windshield, she was beginning to rethink her joke to her cat, Festus, just this morning about building her own ark.
She slowed her Jeep to a crawl after making sure nobody was behind her, wishing Sean Frame had also optimistically left his raincoat at home. But not him. Not Mr. Perfect. He looked ready to do a speech on Being Prepared for any Emergency. Raincoat onâdesigner, of course. Waterproof hat jammed down on his headâat a jaunty angle, damn him. Flashlight in his handâand the batteries worked.
Cassandra squinted through the rain and deepening dusk. âSon of a gunâheâs even wearing boots. Boots! What else? Could he possibly also have dental floss in his pocket? Hey, you never know when youâll be lost in the woods and need to live on nuts and berries. Canât neglect dental hygiene just because youâre stranded, for crying out loud. Jeez! Is it any wonder I hate this guy?â
Which she didnât, not really. Hate him, that was. She wished she could, but she didnât. He was stubborn but intriguing. Thickheaded, yet genuinely intelligent. Stern and straight-arrow, and with the most damnable way of taking her words and twisting them into something silly and shallow, butâ¦butâ¦
But now he was wet. And stranded. And being forced to walk all the way down the hill in the rain. She really should be feeling sorry for him, not vetting his appearance, trying to rationalize her mixed feelings for him. Yes. That was it. She should be feeling sorry for the handsome, infuriating rat. Okay. Sheâd give him some sympathy.
Poor babyâ¦snicker, snicker.
Well, that didnât work. She still pretty much loathed the mud he was slipping and sliding in. But maybe it was the thought that counted. And, boy, was she thinking! She was thinking: Oh, joy. Oh, happiness. Oh, how much fun it would be to speed past the miserable man, spraying cold rainwater in her wake, maybe even tooting her horn and waving as she flashed past.
And it would serve the man right!
If only Cassandra, the sole child born to already middle-aged parents, hadnât been raised always to be nothing less than a âthoughtful, polite, proper young lady.â A very conventional young lady. A young lady who would never, ever, even be tempted to stick out her tongue at Sean Frame and call out ânah-nah-nah-nah-nah-nahâ as she went whizzing by in her dependable four-wheel-drive Jeep, splashing him with muddy water.
