Any Thursday (Donovans of the Delta) Read Online Free

each other, don’t you think mister is a little too formal?”
    “All you’ve been to me is a pain in the—”
    “Association with polar bears has made you testy, Hannah. I have to agree with Aunt Agnes. Unless you mend your ways, you’ll never make it to the altar. A sharp tongue, my dear, is a definite obstacle to romance.” In three quick strides he was beside her. His hand snaked out and closed over Hannah’s, just as she was hefting the candlestick aloft.
    Hannah tried to jerk her hand free. But as strong as she was, she was no match for Jim. If she couldn’t win the physical battle, she was determined to win the verbal one. “You could use a few lessons in romantic techniques yourself. Women don’t like to be manhandled.”
    He took the candlestick from her hand and pulled her tight against his chest. “What do they like, Hannah?”
    Strength and power, she thought as she looked up at him. Even the arrogance he wore like a merit badge attracted her. The sense of danger that hovered over him was a powerful aphrodisiac. All the things he was—bold and brash and wild and ruthless—reminded her of Alaska, the land that had held her captive for years. But she was a willing captive of Alaska’s; she would never be a willing captive of Jim Roman’s.
    Putting on her most fetching smile, she looked into his eyes and lied. “We like to be asked.”
    “Then, Miss Hannah Donovan, I’m asking politely. May I kiss you?”
    “No.”
    His lips descended on hers with the swiftness of the eagles she’d seen attacking their quarry. She gave back as much as she got. When she finished with him, he’d know he wasn’t dealing with any lilywhite, trembling maiden.
    She twined her hands in his hair, fitted herself brazenly against him. She had the satisfaction of feeling his sharp intake of breath as her tongue boldly explored his mouth.
    His arms tightened, and he deepened the kiss, a fever began to build in Hannah’s blood. She felt her control slipping, something she absolutely would not allow.
    Abruptly she pulled away, laughing as she looked up at him.
    “I told you no.”
    “Your eyes said yes.” Jim released her and took a step backward. Hannah liked to think of it as a retreat. “You’re a torrid woman, Hannah.”
    “I try . . . but only when it suits me.”
    “An intriguing woman,” Jim continued, dismissing her last remark as if she’d never made it. “What makes a woman like you bury herself in Glacier Bay?” He leaned casually against the back of the sofa, his gaze almost insolent as it swept her from head to toe. “Dr. Hannah Donovan, marine biologist, head of the North Pacific Institute of Oceanographic Research. Two years in Sri Lanka studying sperm and blue whales, one in the rugged, remote Kenai Fjords of Alaska charting the humpback whale, and the last three in Glacier Bay. Raises huskies and competes in the Yukon Quest for recreation. No romantic entanglements.” He quirked a sardonic eyebrow upward. “Have I missed anything?”
    “I don’t do windows.”
    “I guessed as much.”
    “Who told you? Mom?”
    “A good reporter never reveals his sources.” He chuckled. “But I’ll have to admit that this source makes the best gingerbread I’ve ever tasted.”
    Hannah circled him, giving him the same frank once over he’d given her. “Jim Roman, the West Coast Warrior, winner of the Pulitzer Prize for a newspaper series on the gang wars that shook the streets of San Francisco a few years back. Knifed twice in the line of duty, the recipient of one car bomb, and most recently the target of the Mafia.”
    “Your facts are wrong. A good reporter always gets his facts straight.”
    “Would you care to elaborate?”
    “No.”
    “Then allow me to create a scenario. Famous reporter flees San Francisco, leads the Mafia straight to Greenville and the innocent Donovan family.”
    “Your family is in no danger.” His expression was serious. “Believe me, Hannah. Everybody assumes the