CONTENTS
Website
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Bio
Visit me at http://www.meghanmalone.com for information about my work and the opportunity to download the first half of Soul Bonded for free.
DEDICATION
To readers of romance novels
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Every book I’ve written has been a team effort, and this one is no exception. First and foremost, I want to thank Ty Justice, my designer, publisher, and marketing guru, who has worked tirelessly to help bring this book to fruition. I also need to thank Angie Williams for her support, creative input, and for helping me find time to write. And to Jodi Justice, who helped brainstorm ideas for titles, each one more inappropriate than the last.
I would also like to thank my team of editors and beta readers: D. Jackson Leigh, Anne Rose, Daishonique Davis, Lisa Gebhart Longhurst, and Kris Ridste. And so many other people for their encouragement and support, including Toni Whitaker, my parents, my sister Kathleen Riek, and the readers of my lesbian fiction who have expressed interest in crossing over to read my work in a new genre.
CHAPTER ONE
Four days after losing control of her car and sliding into a mercifully shallow embankment during a Sierra Nevada snowstorm, Katie Connelly’s entire existence had been pared down to only one thought: I don’t want to die. Amazing, the way four days of freezing cold and hunger could change one’s priorities. Last weekend her biggest worry had been that she would grow old alone. Now it was that she would never grow old at all.
She’d started out optimistic in the hours after the accident. Despite the fact that her cell phone got no reception this far into the woods, she’d never dreamed that help would prove so elusive. Too far from town and without proper clothing to hike to safety, she’d told herself that a car would surely come along and spot her eventually. After all, she couldn’t possibly be the only idiot to ignore a winter storm warning and venture out onto the back roads. It might take a day, even two, but rescue would come. While she waited, she sang to keep up her spirits, read the bestseller that had been languishing in her backseat for the better part of six months, and rehearsed what she’d say to whomever freed her from her frozen prison. When that first night had fallen, she’d drifted off to sleep shivering but full of hope that she’d awaken to the sight of a clear sky and some sign of humanity.
The second day in the car had been more difficult—natural biological urges reared their ugly head and hunger set in. She started to worry about the snow that was drifting perilously high around her useless car. Day three consisted of a lot of crying, mentally cataloguing all her regrets, and cursing her lack of foresight in not packing more food. And now, day four: she was emotionally numb, starving, so cold she feared she might never thaw out, and quickly losing hope that anyone else was stupid enough to drive around in a raging blizzard.
Mostly, she really, really didn’t want to die.
And all because she’d left girls’ weekend in Tahoe a day early. If she’d waited until Sunday to head home, as planned, the storm would have already been in full swing. She wouldn’t have even made it out of town. Being snowed in would have pissed her off, but at least she wouldn’t be preparing for a slow, untimely demise. Spending one more day feeling lonely and pathetic among her happily partnered girlfriends sounded like a dream compared to a slow death inside a cheap economy sedan. One whose payment was now two days overdue.
This really was the perfect ending to a shitty weekend.
Sighing, Katie burrowed deeper into her sweatshirt and glanced at the window. It was completely covered in snow, so she couldn’t determine if the weather had started to clear. She hadn’t been able to see outside since yesterday morning. For all she knew, her car was buried to the point where it couldn’t be seen from the road.
That was a terrifying thought. This wasn’t a well-traveled route, to say the least. She couldn’t count on many people passing by even on a good day, so she desperately needed to attract the attention of anyone who did. She wasn’t going to get many chances.
She considered her options. She could try to dig out the car or else leave the possibility of rescue to ever-diminishing luck. Getting out of the car didn’t feel like a good idea, but neither was ignoring that the odds of being found were close to zero if nobody could see her. Pretty soon she wouldn’t have enough strength left to do anything about that problem. She had no idea how many more days she could survive with no food and only melted snow to drink. As it was, the idea of stepping outside into the frigid wind exhausted her—and it wouldn’t get any easier if she waited. This was truly a now or never kind of situation.
“Damn it. I don’t want to.” She’d been talking to herself a lot over the past few days. The sound of her own voice comforted her like nothing else could. Proof that she was still alive, she supposed. What could be more comforting than that?
Not going outside, her brain supplied. Staying in the car. Her fingers were already frozen, she’d been trembling for what felt like weeks, and all the clothes from her suitcase couldn’t keep her warm even within the confines of her car. If she got wet or even lingered outside too long, she might never warm up. Hypothermia was a serious, persistent threat, and going out into the weather could mean speeding up the process of freezing to death.
Then again, doing nothing might easily lead to the same fate, if the starvation didn’t kill her first.
“Damn it,” she whispered again. Mustering the very last of her energy, she fumbled through the small mountain of clothing she’d piled on top of her body to stay warm. Her mind was cloudy and her movements felt sluggish, like she was a children’s toy that was slowly winding down. Worst was that she couldn’t stop shaking. “Focus. Focus.” If she was going to clear off the car, she needed to get as much extra clothing on her body as possible. Anything to keep the heat she had left from escaping into the frigid Northern California air.
Layering shirt-upon-shirt, she stopped only when it became too difficult to move her arms. Pants were even harder to manage. She tugged on a pair of pajama bottoms over her jeans, but she couldn’t fit another pair of jeans over those. The final touch to her ridiculous outfit was the adorable blue hat and gloves set that she’d purchased especially for this trip. At the time she’d thought the snowflake pattern was darling. Now she no longer cared how well the color complemented her auburn hair and fair complexion. If she never saw another snowflake, it would be too soon.
Girls’ weekend had been a bust in every way—this was just the icing on the cake. She’d arrived full of pride about her booming web design career and excited to catch up with college friends, but by the end of the first night, it had become clear th
at she was the pathetic old maid of the group. At least that’s how the rest of them treated her. Stripped of the vibrant, unique personalities she remembered from school, now each of them seemed singularly preoccupied with alternately bitching and waxing poetic about the men in their lives. And when they stopped talking about their love lives, they’d start in on Katie’s. After just twenty-four hours, their repeated, well-intentioned reassurances that she’d find someone, too, threatened to drive her crazy. None of her many accomplishments mattered to those people. Just the fact that she was thirty-three and perpetually single.
Katie tugged the snowflake hat onto her head, then scowled at the gloves. They were totally impractical for this situation. Knit wool was adorable in the store, but it would never keep her hands dry. Leave it to her to buy stupid, girly, useless gloves.
“Worst weekend ever.” She took a deep breath and opened the car door. Or tried to, at least. It moved less than an inch, then got stuck in the snow that had blown and drifted over the past few days. She grimaced as a stream of powder fell over her hands and onto the car seat. “Shit!”
She pulled the door closed with effort. The car was covered, all right. And she was trapped inside.
Katie lay back against the seat and closed her eyes. Every bit of her energy went toward not bursting into tears. She didn’t want to cry. It wouldn’t help, and even if the hot tears felt good on her skin for a moment, they would quickly freeze and make an uncomfortable situation even worse.
Exhausted by the effort she’d just exerted, Katie struggled against the seductive pull of sleep. The last time she’d roused from a nap, hours ago now, she’d promised herself she wouldn’t fall asleep again. Not until she was rescued. She’d worried that next time, she wouldn’t wake up. But now she was so tired and so very powerless, making it difficult to hang onto her resolve.
A sudden sense of calm washed over her. Things were well and truly out of her hands. There was nothing she could do except sit and wait. The thought freed her somehow, and she sank down into the peaceful oblivion of sleep once again.
CHAPTER TWO
Eventually time ceased to have meaning. Katie didn’t know how long it had been since she tried to open the car door—probably hours, maybe days. Each time she drifted into consciousness, she was less tethered to reality. Her perceptions were muddy and it was painfully difficult to stay awake. So she slept whenever she could. Her lucid moments came less frequently, then seemed to stop altogether.
She dreamed—of rescue, of not being able to find her classroom on exam day, of being in love. The last one was her favorite. It made her feel safe, like everything would be okay no matter what happened. Waking from that dream was particularly disappointing, and she immediately yearned to float away again into the refuge of her own mind. Reality had nothing to offer her anymore.
At some point her dreams took a strange turn, and in a moment when she’d actually thought she was awake. But she couldn’t be awake, because she saw bare hands begin to clear away the snow on the windshield, and that was impossible. The hands were attached to muscular arms—also bare—that worked furiously to dig her out.
She managed a weak chuckle. Naturally she would imagine a rescuer who wore even more impractical winter clothing than she did. She closed her eyes and listened to the muffled sound of digging, the moving of snow, then the startlingly loud crunch of a fist crashing through the frozen windshield. A frigid blast of air stole her breath, violently shattering her numbness. She curled away from the icy wind on instinct.
Then she was floating, cradled against solid warmth that barely penetrated the chill that had settled into her bones. She tried to get closer to that heat, to cuddle up to it, but she just couldn’t get enough. The cold surrounded her, she was drowning in it, and no matter how badly she wanted to claw her way out, she lacked the strength and, sadly, the will.
Was this what it felt like to die?
Katie surrendered. Relieved, she sank into the strong arms that cradled her and waited for the cold to abate. Surely she wouldn’t be forced to endure this icy chill for eternity.
Images came in disjointed flashes. Snow. The trees. Impossibly warm, bare skin against her frozen cheek. Then a cabin lit by a golden glow from within. Perhaps that was heaven. All she wanted to do was get inside that glow, to bathe in it. To forget that she had ever frozen to death alone.
The next time she came to, her body hovered between intense pain and razor-sharp ecstasy. Her skin tingled as though a thousand bees were stinging her at once. She wanted to scream, but a heavy pressure building low in her belly caused her to moan instead. Waves of incredible pleasure nearly overwhelmed the agony of whatever was happening to her body, leaving her breathless and disoriented. The sensation was like teetering on the edge of orgasm, and she wanted nothing more than to tip over into oblivion and leave the pain behind.
As though the universe had finally decided to cut her a break, the excruciating sting receded until all that remained was bliss. And now she could feel—soft sheets against her naked skin, the firm press of a male body against her own. Swept away by swift, aching need, she snuggled closer to her dream companion, desperate to sate her desire. Still foggy, she struggled to find the friction she craved, hands roaming over coarse hair and hard planes, but total satisfaction proved elusive.
She had a vague thought: Why do my sex dreams always end in frustration?
Then another: I’m safe.
With that, the last trace of her consciousness slipped away.
CHAPTER THREE
Katie clawed her way out of sleep with fierce determination, aware that something wasn’t right even before she opened her eyes. Her mattress was too firm. The air carried the unfamiliar scent of cedar. A solid shape rested against her side, breathing evenly—one that was far too big to be her cat. Alarm quickened her breathing as she finally broke free from her heavy slumber and took stock of her surroundings.
She was in a strange bed in a strange room. Wood paneling covered the walls, log cabin style. The framed nature photographs hanging from them gave the space a rustic feel, as did the redwood furniture that looked handcrafted. A lamp served as a dim sentry on the nightstand beside her, casting soft light over the large, brown mixed-breed dog curled up at her side. He stared at her with soulful chocolate eyes and then yawned, clearly unmoved by her rising panic.
Heart pounding, she sat up slowly. Where the hell was she? What had happened?
She dropped her head into her hands and tried to make sense of her jumbled memories. She vividly recalled the accident. Her internal debate about whether to walk miles in the desolate cold or wait for help. The four long days huddled in the backseat of her car. Losing track of what was real and what was delusion, dreaming of rescue one minute and death the next.
Then nothing. And now this.
Clearly she had been saved, but by whom? And how was it possible that she’d just woken up feeling so…refreshed?
Improbable as it was, she was in tip-top condition: rested, healthy, and most importantly, toasty warm. Confusion about how she’d gotten here aside, her mind felt sharp and alert in a way it hadn’t in days. Except for the intense hunger that twisted her stomach, she was in far better shape than someone who’d just spent the past few days stranded in the frigid cold with only two candy bars and a snack-size bag of pretzels had any business being.
She lifted the comforter that covered her body, unsettled to discover that she was dressed in a pair of men’s sweatpants and a baggy T-shirt. The clothes didn’t belong to her, which meant that someone had undressed her. Like, really undressed her—she wasn’t even wearing a bra. She snuck a hand beneath the waistband of the sweats and confirmed that she didn’t have panties on, either. Her rescuer had obviously gotten an eyeful.
Just as the thought crossed her mind, the bedroom door opened and a man stepped inside. He stopped short when he saw her. “Oh.”
She snatched her hand from the sweatpants and opened her mouth to say something, but the
words caught in her throat. Dark and rugged and handsome, with vivid green eyes she could see from across the room, the stranger pretty much ticked all her ‘perfect man’ checkboxes. He was powerfully built, exuding strength and physical confidence, yet seemed to have as much trouble meeting her gaze as she did forming a coherent sentence. The dog perked its ears and whined at his master, but Katie could only manage a weak nod.
“You’re up.” The man hooked his thumbs in the pockets of his well-worn jeans and nodded at the dog. “I hope Shilah didn’t startle you. I left him here to keep you warm.”
She forced herself out of her stupor. “No, Shilah was fine. And very warm.”
He shivered almost imperceptibly, still not meeting her eyes. “Do you remember what happened?”
“I had an accident.” She pulled the comforter up around her body, slightly uncomfortable with the way he refused to look directly at her. Maybe he was only trying to protect her modesty—though it was a bit late for that, if he was the one who’d undressed her—but his uneasy avoidance seemed to hint at deep-seated guilt. Between his obvious discomfort and her instant, uncontrollable attraction to a complete stranger, Katie felt painfully vulnerable. Determined to act normal, she mustered a polite smile. “I lost control of my car. I was afraid I’d freeze to death if I tried to walk for help, so I decided to wait for someone to find me. But…nobody came.”
“You’d nearly frozen to death by the time I got to you. You were unconscious, then delirious.” The man leaned against the doorway, angled away from her. Almost as though he was ready to bolt at any moment. “Do you know how long you were stranded out there?”
“No.” She gathered the comforter closer. “I lost track of time after the fourth or fifth day.”
“I’m not surprised nobody found you. Your car was almost completely buried under the snow.” He folded his arms over his chest, drawing her attention to his firm, muscled physique. She couldn’t help but wonder what he looked like without his shirt. “It’s lucky I spotted you when I did.”
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