by Em Petrova
She nodded, not saying anything. He drew her to her feet, aware of how she only came up to the top of his chest. She still wore her hat, and he tugged it off as he set her in the chair.
Wild curls sprung out in all directions, honey brown and coiled tight from being wet. Something deep inside him gave a yank, like a rope on a cow’s neck. But he ignored it and strode to the door.
“I’ve gotta see to the horse. Sit there and don’t move, okay?”
“Can I get closer to the fire? It feels so good.”
“I don’t want you catching fire. That’s close enough. I’ll be right back.”
Outside, he went to the shed. After a quick inspection, he determined it was large enough to shelter the horse but only if he emptied it of the contents. Which meant tossing cross-country skis and a couple old shovels out. Then he stripped the horse of its saddle and provided it one of the dry blankets from his pack, along with a bag of feed.
There was an old bucket in the shed he could use for water. He took this and went back inside the cabin. From a well someplace unseen, water flowed into the sink, rusty at first and then clearing. He filled the bucket and went back outside to the shed.
He realized he needed to send word to the others in the search party. He located his handheld radio and tuned to their channel. “This is Moon. I got her. We’ll be staying in the cabin and coming down the mountain in the morning. She’s all right, only suffering some exposure.”
Before anyone could respond to his words, he switched off the radio. With the horse comfortable, he had to see to the woman.
She had scooted a bit closer to the fire, against his warning. He almost snorted at her breaking his rule and remembered how many times people had been pissed at him for disregarding theirs.
He fetched her some water and opened his pack to find a thermos of soup, long since cold, but he could heat it over the fire if he could find a pot.
The next few minutes were spent acting as camp cook, while Esme’s green eyes followed his every movement. He found Mimi had stuffed a few cocoa packets in the backpack too, and he used water to make some in a mug.
Esme cupped this in her hands and released a long sigh. “It’s so good to finally be warmer.”
He touched the back of her hand where it was curled around the mug. It was still cold. “You could use a little more heat.” He tossed another log on the fire and then stirred the soup. Outside, rain hit the windows and he remembered one pane was broken.
His gaze shot to the black lace tossed in the corner. “Were you here before?”
She nodded. “I remembered the cabin was here. I broke the window to reach in and unlock the door, but I couldn’t stay long if I was going to get down the mountain before dark.” She turned to look at the falling darkness. “We aren’t going to make it either.”
“No. We’ll stay the night here and just focus on getting you warm, and then tomorrow we’ll go down the mountain.”
“Is your horse all right?”
“Yes. Tucked up in the shed with food and water.”
She nodded, curls bobbing. “What’s its name?”
He scratched his head. “I don’t know.”
“How can you not know your horse’s name?”
“Ain’t my horse.” Except it was. Now.
She took this as the final word and sipped her cocoa. He spooned the hot soup into a bowl and balanced it on a metal plate he found in a cupboard to use as a tray. As she tucked in, eating with increasing enthusiasm with every spoonful, he eyed her.
Her boyfriend had abandoned her on the mountain—he might as well have left her for dead. But she wasn’t bruised or battered, only windburned, a bit shocked…and beautiful.
“What happened?” he asked, low.
Her gaze flicked to his and then away. Her spoon scraped the bottom of the bowl, and she set it and the makeshift tray on the floor at her feet.
Awareness stole over him as he fought to keep from staring at her curves and thinking one slip of that quilt and he’d see bare skin glistening in the firelight.
He tried to look away and quit thinking about it, but soon he was glancing at her once more. Her face and throat glowed as she warmed… and it’d been a long time since Zayden felt a clutch of desire like this.
When a few minutes passed and she didn’t speak, he said, “Well, he’s clearly an idiot. Look at what he tossed away.”
Her gaze locked on his for several heartbeats. “Thank you,” she whispered.
She tugged the blanket tighter at the neck, but he saw the shake of her shoulders. Was it emotion taking hold or the hot soup warming her insides while the rest of her body needed to catch up?
He watched her a moment before he got up and held out his arms. “Come on. I’ll put you in bed.”
She nodded, shaking more visibly now, and he helped her to stand. Though the blanket slipped and he wanted to put his hands on all that glowing flesh, he secured the blanket again and guided her by the shoulder to the bed.
Being farther from the fire, the bedroom would offer less warmth, but there were plenty of warm blankets.
“Lie down.” He pointed to the bed, and she awkwardly climbed in, her limbs no longer working well after being taxed for so many hours.
“I thought he was in the bedroom and when I came out, he was gone. I searched the cabin and that’s when I saw he’d taken the truck and left me.” Tears clogged her voice.
Zayden pulled the blankets over her curled form and watched her a moment as her teeth rattled.
There was no use for it—he had the body heat to warm the woman.
“Hell.” He climbed into bed beside her and picked up the edge of the blanket. Her wide eyes burned into his. “May I share my heat with you? Sometimes it’s the only way to warm up.”
She hesitated, white teeth clamping on her plump lower lip. He nearly groaned—if seeing that was bad enough, how did he plan to cuddle those rounded curves, and with her wearing only a bra and panties?
Just as he thought she’d tell him to get away from her, she nodded. “I’m so cold. I thought that cocoa and soup would help, but I feel colder now.” Her words came out in bursts of shivers.
He didn’t waste any time and eased under the covers with her. When he slipped his arms around her, she didn’t beat at him and cry rape, so he continued to pull her into his embrace until she was nestled against his chest, with her legs snug against his.
“Put your feet between my calves. I can tell they’re icy.”
She nodded, and a big fluff of curls brushed his chin, catching in the stubble there. He didn’t push them away, only kept her pressed to him.
Annnnnd now he wasn’t only battling his good sense—he was about to pop a boner.
Her breasts were the full size of a man’s palm, waist dipping to a flare of hips. Damn if he didn’t want to grab them and part those round thighs. Or flip her over and explore that perfect ass.
She wasn’t stick thin, and too bad, because then maybe he wouldn’t be fighting off thoughts of gliding inside her and working her into a sweat. He liked his women with a bit of flesh to grab onto, and this one was tempting as hell.
But no, he wasn’t an asshole, though there were plenty who’d argue that.
“Do you r-rescue women from the mountain all the t-time?” she asked through her quivering.
He planted a palm on her spine and drew her even closer. Her wild hair crept up around his mouth, and he pinned the curls down by resting his chin on the top of her head. If he talked, maybe he could take her mind off being cold—and her bastard of a boyfriend too.
“I grew up here and the mountain was an escape.” Now why did he tell her that? He plowed on. “I know a lot about surviving in the elements.”
“Did you take a class?”
“No. Once I ran away from home and spent a few nights up here. It wasn’t February then, though, and the spring rains had already passed.”
“How old were you?” She moved her hand as if trying to find a
place for it to land. He caught it and placed it on his abs between them.
Maybe that’s not such a good idea.
“I was eleven.”
“Wh-what did you eat?”
“Trapped a rabbit and that lasted a day. After that, my luck ran out and I turned to searching for mushrooms and berries under the pines.”
“I bet your parents were relieved when they found you.”
He only grunted in reply.
How innocent, for her to believe his upbringing had been that of a normal American boy. When a couple firefighters making their usual run of the access roads on the mountain located him, they’d forced him home and probably been shocked to learn his father laid in a drunken stupor for two days and hadn’t known he was missing. His kid brothers were plenty happy, though.
He held back a sigh and without thinking on it too much, let his hand wander over her spine, rubbing small circles.
“Owen and I spent the night in the cabin for Valentine’s Day.” Her words were quiet, restrained. “I really thought…”
He waited for her sugary voice, but she said no more.
“Did you have a fight?” he asked quietly.
She balled her fist on his abs and then shook her head. “I went into the bathroom to… never mind. But when I came out, he was just gone. No word, no note.”
“How long have you been together?” He covered her fist with his hand and gently eased her fingers open. “Don’t tense up. You need your blood flowing to get warm.”
She sighed and relaxed. He didn’t release her fingers where they remained trapped between them. He noted she no longer shivered, though he felt the cold seeping from her feet past the denim he wore.
“We’ve been dating for eight months. I thought… I’m stupid, I guess.”
It dawned on him. It was Valentine’s Day and her boyfriend brought her on a romantic mountain retreat, and she’d expected a much different outcome, probably ending with her wearing that lace number and sporting a fat diamond.
Damn, he hated knowing there were assholes out there who treated women this way. For all his problems in life, at least he was smart enough to realize he wasn’t equipped for a relationship and steered clear.
He rubbed more circles on her spine, and she relaxed in his hold, head dropping forward so her cheek was pillowed on his chest.
People didn’t usually trust him, not with the last name of Moon. But she didn’t know him and was desperate to warm up.
She wiggled a little closer, all hips and breasts, and Christ, he shouldn’t think about her.
How could he not, when she cuddled against him? He floundered for something to say.
“I’m sorry this happened to you, but I’m glad I found you.”
She jerked her head suddenly, tipping it to look at him. “Are there others looking for me? Oh God, what a pain I am!”
“Not your fault. And I radioed the others in the search party—”
“Search party!”
“—and told them I found you. Don’t worry about being trouble. The guys in Stokes have been out searching before and will again.”
“But it was too stupid of me to be stranded.”
“How was that your fault?” He raised his hand and brushed an errant curl from her eyes.
Pink flooded her cheeks, and she looked away again, but didn’t attempt to leave his arms. In fact, she grew boneless, melting against him, and soon he knew sleep would overtake her and he’d be left lying here in torment, his dick a shaft of steel behind his zipper.
“You don’t have any reason to feel guilty for having people out looking for you. The people who should feel guilty are idiots who aren’t experienced hikers and go up the mountain without appropriate gear.”
“Like you when you were eleven?”
He chuckled, the low rumble odd to his own ears. Didn’t seem much to laugh about in life, especially right now. He suddenly wondered if Asher ever returned to the ranch, and if Mimi was now dealing with another younger drunk like his dad.
He’d been in Stokes all of a couple days and already he was taking responsibility for his brothers and worrying about them just as he had back in the day. They were old enough to handle themselves. So why did he feel the burn of anger with Asher or even Dane, who hadn’t even bothered to show his face?
Suddenly, Esme rubbed her cheek against his chest and then fell still. He listened to her breathing, which had become deep and even.
She was asleep.
In his arms.
Soft and curvaceous—a living doll with beautiful green eyes and the most untamed hair he’d ever seen. Gently, he eased his head back so he could look down at her. When he saw the spikey lashes kissing her cheekbones, it was like a punch to the gut.
Quickly, he closed his eyes, willing his stupid protective inner workings to shut up. Just because he’d found her and she lay in his arms didn’t make her his responsibility.
But hell if he didn’t feel like going down the mountain tomorrow, hunting up this boyfriend of hers and busting his teeth out. The man was an idiot. Who would give this up, let alone jeopardize her?
He dragged in a full breath in an attempt to placate his anger and received a nose full of sweet woman.
Delectable woman.
Morning couldn’t come soon enough.
* * * * *
Zayden. Esme let the name roll around in her mind. Maybe she was experiencing one of those crushes you get on your rescuer or a doctor who saved your life. But even so, the man was hot with a capital H and an extra T.
She’d woken to find herself alone in the bed, the blankets around her shoulders as if he’d tucked them there. After quickly dressing in her now dry clothes, she tentatively approached the cabin window. At some point, Zayden had wedged some cardboard into the hole she’d made to break in.
It seemed like a lifetime ago that she’d been in such a terrible state of mind that she’d actually punched out the windowpane in order to reach inside the cabin and twist the lock. How low a person could become.
How low another person can make you.
She wasn’t one of those girls who liked playing victim. In fact, anger boiled over, hotter than she’d experienced in her life, and that was saying something. She’d had more than one bum of a boyfriend, but she’d believed Owen was different. So far, he was the worst in the lot.
Through the window, she saw Zayden’s big form as he saddled the horse in the snowy yard. Admiring his efficient movements, she slipped on her coat and walked outside.
He looked up and gave her a nod of greeting. “Warm enough now?”
She nodded. “Very warm. Thank you.”
“No thanks needed. I’m glad I found you. I’ll just finish here with the horse then come inside and gather our things. If you left anything that you’d like to pack…” He trailed off, not looking at her but at the saddle he fiddled with.
Her mind leaped straight to the black lace teddy she’d thrown out of her bag in a fit of rage the previous day. Thank God nobody had been around to witness that fit—or the crying jag that followed. She felt a bit stronger and owed it to Zayden.
Zayden’s tone when he called Owen an idiot helped buoy her spirits. She was prepared to go down the mountain and face her life. First, she would thank those who helped in the search. Then she’d make sure her coworkers at the credit union knew she was okay. After that, she had quite a plan in store for Owen.
The son of a bitch.
“I’ll pack up what’s mine.” She turned for the cabin door again. The fire continued to burn in the hearth, though only a few flames still lingered over the blackened logs. Who would come after them and inhabit this cabin? Lovers?
The door opened behind her, letting in an icy blast of wind, and then Zayden closed it. Across the room, their gazes met.
She should say something to him. “Thank you again, Zayden.”
“I said no need.” He strode to the table where his pack lay open. He rooted around in it and then held up a p
air of heavy leather gloves. “My extra pair. You can wear them when we ride.”
“Okay.” A shyness stole over her. She knew his body well—the length, the breadth of his chest. How his heart thumped in a steady rhythm and how he smelled. They’d shared a night together, and didn’t the saying go that a person could live a lifetime in one minute? She felt altered somehow.
It could be a matter of her faith being restored that not all men sucked big donkey balls. Sometimes strangers could take a stranger by the hand, and tell a girl she was safe and then share his body heat with her.
She shivered, and he locked his gaze on her. His rugged features had become familiar to her, and she could conjure the shape of his angled jaw and nose with a bump on the side from being broken, as well as his dark, hooded eyes. His hair skimmed his nape in soft whorls, projecting from under his cowboy hat.
“You’re not gonna be warm enough, are you? Maybe you should stay here in the cabin and I’ll ride down and get some extra winter things. A heavier parka, a—”
“I’m fine,” she cut across him. “I’ll be warm enough. Besides, we won’t be lost out there the entire day, will we?”
“Don’t plan on it.” A smile ghosted over his lips, but only the corner of his mouth flickered upward. If she hadn’t been staring at him, she would have missed it. He turned to his pack once more and began stowing away everything he’d brought with him.
She did the same, making a sweep of the cabin in case she’d left behind a sock. In the end, she stuffed the abandoned lace back in and zipped her bag shut. When they both had their bags in hand, he held out the gloves. She took them and slipped them on over her thinner neoprene ones.
He watched her close. “You’re lucky to have all your fingertips today.”
She nodded. “I never did find a spot of cell service on this entire mountain.”
He grunted. “Next time you come up here, bring a satellite phone.”
“Got it.” She tapped her temple as if committing it to memory, and for her effort at a joke, Zayden rumbled a laugh.
He stood close, and she felt an urge to put her arms around him again, but refrained. She wasn’t going to be a sappy, clingy woman. Besides, she’d spend the ride down the mountain in front of him in the saddle, his big chest at her back, and that would be plenty of physical contact.
