Drake Sisters 04 - Dangerous Tides

expecting Sarah to give way, but she held her ground dead center in the doorway.

    "Quit skulking like a little coward, Libby," he said. "I'm tempted to pick your sister up and toss her into the shrubs."

    Sarah snorted derisively, but stepped back when Libby squeezed by her.

    Libby's appearance shocked him. She had always been petite, but now she was gaunt, so thin and pale she looked a wraith. There were dark circles under her eyes and shadows in them—but she was glaring at him. "Are you threatening Sarah?"

    "Not yet, but I was considering it."

    "Sarah would flatten you if you touched her," Libby said.

    "Maybe, but you don't look in any condition to flatten me, so I'll take my chances with you." He lifted Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
    her into his arms, removing her from the doorway and striding right into the house.

    He felt a curious shift under his feet as he entered, but before he could think about it Libby turned into a bundle of fury, thumping hard on his chest. He waited for the pain from his broken sternum to jar him, but surprisingly, he felt nothing at all.

    "What the hell do you think you're doing? I'm not some rag doll for you to toss over your shoulder so you can strut around like a he-man."

    It took great effort not to smile. He liked her furious; she seemed to get that way only around him, and that was far better than no reaction. Tyson put her down in the middle of the living room, steadying her as she rocked away from him. He searched for some way to break the ice and, as always, obscure facts were the first thing that came to mind. "Did you know that Shamans used dolls for healing? Some painted dolls red in order to raise the dead. And in parts of Alaska, the Shaman carved a woman's figurine to cure infertility."

    "Tyson." Libby interrupted him, fists on hips, her head tipped back to look up at him. "You've finally gone completely insane. You force your way into my home, toss me over your shoulder like some ridiculous caveman—"

    He held up his hand to stop her. "There's no need for melodrama. Stick to the facts, Libby. First off, I didn't force my way in, I stepped across the threshold like any other man. Second, I didn't toss you over my shoulder. I cradled you against me with enormous care, despite my broken ribs, I might add."

    As he talked, he walked around the room, examining first the mosaic on the floor and then studying the walls.

    Sarah rolled her eyes. "He's all yours, Lib. If you need me, just call. I'll be with Kate up in her room.
    Getting rid of bodies is a specialty of hers. Just a little thought to leave you with."

    Tyson frowned after her. "I thought Kate was a writer."

    "Of murder mysteries," Libby said with exaggerated patience.

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    "Oh, that's right. I read one of her books once. It wasn't a bad story."

    Libby gritted her teeth. "Did you come here for a reason, or just to annoy me?"

    He heaved a sigh. It wasn't going very well. "Of course I came here for a reason. I just gave your sister a compliment. I don't see how that could possibly annoy you unless—" He drew the word out, his face brightening. "You can't be jealous? Kate's engaged and I'm pretty old-fashioned about that kind of thing.
    If a woman's engaged she's off-limits."

    "Good to know." Libby gave up and sank into a comfortable chair, watching him prowl around her house, a bit reminiscent of Sherlock Holmes. "Are you looking for something?"

    His gaze went back to the mosaic on the floor. "I don't know, bat wings and eye of newt. The supermodel with a cauldron."

    Libby hissed her breath out between clenched teeth. If she wasn't careful her teeth were going to shatter from the pressure. "My sister's name is Hannah and at the moment she's at the hospital with Jonas where she's been for the last week and a half, night and day along with one of my other sisters. Tyson, I'm running out of patience."

    He wasn't scoring any points with her. He didn't seem to be able to censor himself, although he was trying. He was just so shaken up by the sight of her starkly white face. She seemed almost ethereal, as if a good wind could blow her away. And she held herself stiffly, her arms wrapped around her middle, as if her chest was sore. There was wariness in her eyes and he realized the things he'd said so abruptly about her sister had really hurt her.

    Tyson turned around, his