His laugh was soft. “You should go back to sleep. The healing requires a great deal of rest, for both of us.” He started to rise, but I grabbed his wrist.
“Please don’t leave. I’m lonely. And I was scared.”
“You have no need to be afraid. The chalet is secure.”
“But you weren’t here. I was alone.”
He leaned over and kissed my forehead. “You are alone no longer. Sleep well.”
I sighed happily as his lips touched my skin. My hands rose to cup his shoulders. I wanted to pull him closer, but he slid out of my light grip without effort.
“Don’t leave.”
“You must sleep.”
“Stay here and keep me warm,” I pleaded.
“I cannot. It would be…” he inhaled deeply.
“Nice?”
“Dangerous.”
“Why? Because I’m naked?” Indulging in the fantasy, I threw the cover aside, revealing my body to him.
“April…” he groaned.
“Lie with me,” I said again. “Please. Keep me warm.”
He sighed. “I shall put a shirt on first.”
“You don’t have to.”
“You should dress also.”
“Don’t be such a spoilsport.”
“This is inappropriate. You are affected by the drugs.”
“Drugs, shmugs,” I scoffed. “Get into bed with me. Let me put my arms around your big, strong body.” I stretched out my arms and wriggled my fingers, beckoning him.
“I will lie on top of the covers, no closer.”
“You’re no fun.” I pouted. “Are you worried I might take advantage of you?”
“The opposite is likely, April. You should not tempt me.”
“Oh? So you’re tempted?”
He glanced at the windows. “This is most difficult,” he muttered.
“It’s not difficult. Get into bed with me. Hold me. Put your big hands all over my body.” As I spoke, I caught my lip between my teeth. I hadn’t intended to be so forward. But then, it was only a dream, wasn’t it? Everything was a figment of my imagination, including the bulge in the front of his pants. Before he could react, I’d sat up and grabbed hold of him, gasping at his hardness. He jumped back out of my reach.
“No, no. This is too much.”
“Oh, hell” I lay back, disappointed that my own figment had blown me out. No dream-sex for me tonight. So I spread my legs and slid my finger across my moist lips. Ashley groaned and pressed a hand to his face as I circled my fingers. Small wet sounds reached my ears.
“April, please. You must stop this.”
“No. You have to stay and watch me come.”
“I have to do no such thing. I’m leaving.”
“Please?” I’d pushed him too far.
“Why?” He seemed angry that I should want him to play. Why was this man of my dreams being so stubborn? Maybe I needed to try harder. I slipped a finger inside me, then another.
“You’re not even tempted? “
“Of course I’m tempted!” he snapped.
“Then give into it. Come down here and play with me.” This fantasy business was proving difficult. Why wouldn’t he just play? His eyes went to my pussy, which was deliciously slippery. Abandoning any pretence, I rolled my hips as I fingered myself, pushing out my lips into a pout. My breath hissed through my clenched teeth. I was hot for some fun, and I wanted Ashley—dream Ashley, at least—to help me play.
He stepped toward me, and I grinned. “Come get me.” I spread my legs a little further. But it was too much. Ashley spun on his heel and hurried out of the room.
“What? Nooo…” Why did my fantasy refuse to cooperate? Crushed, I pulled out my fingers, but kept circling my clit, in case he changed his mind. I wanted to be ready for him, because there was no way he could resist me.
Except he did.
I kept myself hot for as long as could keep my eyes open. I didn’t get as far as an orgasm, but I was aching for someone to touch me, to satisfy me. I drifted toward sleep with my legs still spread, and the blanket on the floor beside me. It was only in the last few seconds, that it occurred to me; I might not be in a fantasy after all. The horrified thought made me snatch up the blanket and cover myself, too late to salvage my dignity.
*****
When I next woke, the sun was spearing into the chalet, drawing dazzling squares on the floor. My face burned as I recalled the events of the early morning. The moment I heard Ashley moving around, I pulled the blanket over my head and hid my stupid, slutty face.
When he tried to ease it away, I held it tightly, shaking my head.
“Leave me alone.”
“You have nothing to be ashamed of, April.”
“Did you get amnesia? Did you forget what a stupid little slut I was last night?” I pulled harder at the blanket.
“One of the listed side effects of the pain killer I injected is vasodilation, dilation of the capillaries.”
“It doesn’t mean I get to act like a whore.”
“You weren’t in control. Your body became unusually sensitive, and desired physical contact.”
“I’m so embarrassed. I can’t look you in the eye.”
“It wasn’t your fault.” He tried to ease the blanket from my head, but I clung to it. I’d tried to entice him into my arms. I’d spread my legs and begged him to touch me. There was no excuse for the way I’d behaved.
“Okay,” he said at last. His grip on the blanket eased. “I will cook breakfast. Perhaps hunger will persuade you into the open.”
“I’m never coming out of here. Please call a helicopter, or a sled team to take me away.”
“I give you ten minutes.”
~
He was right, damn him. Once the smell of bacon reached me, I struggled to stay on the sofa. The blanket slid from my head and I inhaled deeply, relishing the wonderful aroma. I groaned. What was a girl supposed to do?
I resisted for another sixty seconds before giving in. Still feeling sheepish, I put my feet on the floor and dressed as quickly as I could, staying as low as possible. Not that it mattered, really. He’d seen everything I had to offer. And offer it I had, in spades. My cheeks burned at the memory. But the fact he’d been so dismissive of my outrageous behavior gave me some comfort. Plus he’d been strong enough to resist me, whereas I’d given into my sexual urges and offered myself to him on a plate. God knows what would have happened if his resolve had crumbled. We’d have been at it like rabbits, most likely.
“Ah, the sleeper has awakened.”
“Don’t,” I murmured. “I feel terrible.”
“You have the headache?”
“No. I have the humiliation.”
“I do not. I have already explained—”
“It was the drugs, yes. I remember. I still wish it had never happened.”
“Think nothing of it. I have experienced such erratic behavior in the past.”
“You should have slapped me.”
“This would have been improper.”
“Not as improper as the things I did.”
“Sit down. Put it from your mind.” He laid a plate of bacon, eggs and mushrooms in front of me.
“That looks delicious.”
“Then you should eat, before it goes cold.”
I did.
Ashley made no mention of my lewd antics, not even as a joke. I was hugely grateful. But something he’d said had circled my mind, orbiting my curiosity neuron, swooping past to tease my mind with half-remembered facts. Finally, I could stand it no longer.
“When I woke up…” I toyed with the last piece of bacon, skiing it over spilt egg yolk.
“Yes?” he said slowly, as if he’d been expecting my query.
“You were touching my leg. Your hands…”
“I hope you do not think my methods inappropriate, Mademoiselle.”
I stared openly. “Hang on. I was behaving like a cheap slut, and you’re worried about a little hands-on heal
ing?”
He shrugged one shoulder. “I wish you to understand that I was touching you in order to heal you, not from lust or desire.”
“I have no problem with you touching me in the name of medicine. I mean, you catheterized me. It doesn’t get much more intimate than that.”
“You should understand—”
I cut him off. “I want to know how you were healing me.”
“How I was healing you?”
“Yeah, buster. How is it you’re able to heal using only your hands?”
He smiled and his eyes became distant. “I have always suspected latent power within me. When animals fall and are helpless, in my arms they find new energy.”
“Maybe they were stunned? And then they recovered?”
Ashley shook his head. “In the forest, I have seen small animals eviscerated, or with broken limbs, breathing their last. I bring them here, or lie with them in my arms, and a miracle takes place.”
“They recover?”
“I am unable to explain this. To a doctor, or a scientist, it makes no sense. And yet, it happens.”
And yet, something made sense. If Ashley imagined himself to be a miracle healer, some forest magi, the naked footprints in the snow would be completely in character. Of course he would want to be in contact with Mother Earth, even if he got frostbite in the process.
“You think me crazy?” He smiled from one side of his mouth. Of course he was crazy, imagining he could heal with his hands. But it was a harmless kind of crazy, a benign nuttiness that would harm no one.
“Not as crazy as me on drugs.” I patted his arm and he smiled properly. “But my leg isn’t as painful this morning. Did you give me another injection after our…adventure?”
“Now that you are awake, I would not administer to you without permission. Especially considering the side-effects.”
“Yeah. Wouldn’t want that to happen again.” So I wouldn’t have to look at him, I cleared the last of the breakfast from my plate. As I did so, more questions surfaced. We both spoke at the same time.
“Are you finished? Would you like more?”
“What made you try to heal? Why not leave the animal in the forest? It’s nature, after all.”
“Because I was the one who caused the injury.”
“Oh,” I said. “Right.”
“I had no memory of causing the wound. But when I stumbled upon the doe a little later, I instantly knew it was my fault.”
“You knew? How?” But he ignored me, lost in the memory.
“My guilt was enormous. Seeing the doe in such pain. She was wailing, crying almost.”
“But how—”
“I was compelled to hold her, to ease her death in any way I could.” He pressed his elbows to the table, and leaned his forehead against his clasped hands.
“Empathy?”
“Mm-hmm.” His voice was high, and tight.
“What was wrong with her?”
“The skin, it was torn. Her leg, broken.” He raised his head and touched his throat. “There were cuts here.”
“Did you hit her with a car? No, wait. You don’t drive.”
“I remember nothing. But she was injured by me. Of this, I am certain.”
“So you held her. Then what?”
“I wept for the pain I had caused.”
I rubbed his arm as he wept. Ashley was bonkers, I had no doubt. But he obviously cared deeply for forest creatures, whatever had injured them. The attack sounded more like that of a wildcat, or a wolf.
“I heard a wolf out there. Last night.”
He turned to consider me. “You should not have been outdoors.”
“Says the man who left ice cream in the outdoor freezer.”
“It was remiss of me.”
“Why were you walking barefoot in the snow?”
“It is my way. It is how I truly become myself.”
“Okay, sure. I get that. The wild man of the forest.”
He gave me a strange look. “Is that how you imagine me?”
“I don’t know enough about you yet. Tell me about the doe. What happened to her?”
“I held her the entire day, stroking and soothing her until her trembling ceased. I thought she was succumbing to the darkness, accepting her fate, until she tried to stand.”
“She stood up? I thought she had a broken leg!”
“So I believed. And injuries to her throat. But when she broke free from my arms, I saw none of these injuries.”
“She was fully healed? Within the same day?”
“Half a day. It was not yet nightfall when she escaped me.”
“That’s…very strange.”
“Indeed. So when the opportunity of other injured creatures presented themselves to me, I repeated the experiment.”
“And you healed them?”
“Alas, no. They died.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
“With the doe, I experienced guilt, a determination to put things right. My emotions were strong.”
“But not with the other animals?”
He shook his head. “Their plight was not my doing. I felt no urge to make amends.”
“But you tried to help me. The avalanche wasn’t your fault, so why—”
“With later animals, I improved my skill. I drew upon the pain, and determination I had felt when holding the doe.”
“It worked?”
“I was moderately successful. Many of the animals lived. I was finally able to make amends.”
“Amends? For what?”
His eyes widened, as if he’d been caught off guard. “Ah…for injuring the doe.”
I watched him carefully, not pressing the point, but suddenly unsure of his nature. Was he a reformed serial killer? A worker in an abattoir?
“So when I found you, I wondered if my gift would work on a human patient.”
“How did you find me, exactly?”
“Your…ah…leg was visible. I was able to dig you out.”
“Lucky for me.”
“Yes. You were fortunate.”
“It definitely feels better today.” I flexed my knee, raising my splinted lower leg.
“Perhaps it has healed.”
“I was walking on it last night.”
“Then it is healing well.”
“After only ten days? That would be incredible. Maybe I could take a look at it.”
“No. Not yet,” he said quickly. “Give it more time. Remember, you must walk to Chamonix. Perhaps another day or two, yes?”
“Okay.”
“You agree?”
“I said okay. I won’t push it.”
“Good. Then you can stay and enjoy my coffee.”
“Sure.” His sudden insistence had alarmed me. And the miraculous healing story had been touching, but fantastical. I began to wonder if the whole ‘broken leg’ thing was a sham, a pretense to keep me here. But why? If he’d wanted to keep me hostage, he could have pumped me full of drugs. If I was to be a sex slave, he wouldn’t have resisted my antics in the early hours of this morning. So what was his agenda? Don’t go outside after dark, even though I’m outside in my bare feet. There was another oddity. And if it was such a long trek to Chamonix, why were his food cupboards so well-stocked? I’d heard no dogs, so he had no sled.
Something was amiss.
We moved onto coffee, relaxing in front of the hearth, which he coaxed into life with a handful of well-placed logs. We chatted about my home, my family, and then about his former life as a doctor, before he gave it all up, he said, to live in the unspoiled wilderness.
*****
I woke with a sudden start. Ashley was standing by the door, frowning. He was dressed for outdoors, complete with boots. A small backpack with long, looping straps hung from one hand. His other hand was pulling the door open. The windows sent gray light into the room, from a sky heavy with cloud.
“What? Where?” I muttered, stretching so hard, my joints clicked.
“Hush,”
he said. “You should rest.”
“I’m done resting. Where are you going?”
“Ah…I need to cut more wood.”
I glanced at the well-stocked hearth and the stack of logs beside it. “Really?”
“A storm is coming.” He nodded toward the window. “Can you not see?”
“And this is relevant because?”
“Because if it persists, I cannot cut wood in a blizzard. This is not the city, April Depardieu. Out here, we must prepare.”
“Okay, okay. I was only asking.”
“The fire is low. You should retire to bed.”
“Or I could put some more wood on?”
“Are you an expert in this matter?”
“No, but—” How hard could it be?
“Then please…” He glanced out the door. “You should retire to bed. Healing is exhausting.”
He was right about that. Something was taking its toll on me. Unless I’d developed narcolepsy. Somehow I’d slept most of the day away, and my eyes were drooping again. Had he drugged my coffee?
“I will return shortly.”
“All right.” I yawned furiously. “I won’t wait up.” I stood, oriented myself, and then headed for the bedroom. Behind me, the door closed and the faint sound of crunching snow faded away to nothing. I didn’t know how long Ashley might be, but he was dressed for a good spell outdoors. Time to investigate what was going on beneath my bandages.
My leg was surprisingly pain-free, which was inconsistent for a broken tibia, or fibula. Once inside the bedroom, I sat on the bed, and unfastened the surgical tape holding the bandage in place. I wanted to see what was happening under there. Although I was splinted, no plaster covered my leg, only bandages, which seemed strange. I lifted my leg and spun off the bandage, yards of it, until it lay in an untidy heap on the floor. A thick surgical stocking enclosed my leg, protecting it from irritation by the bandages. Gingerly, I pushed down the stocking to reveal pale, puffy skin. Bruises and scratches, still scabbing, appeared. Then, below the knee, a mess of black and blue spread down my leg, evidence of recent trauma. Aches and pains jabbed at my nerves. And then, something I never expected to see. A cold chill crept up my spine as I finally uncovered my leg.
Bite marks. Several sets of them.
My leg hadn’t been broken, it had been bitten.
Inextinguishable Love: Firefighter and Interracial Romance Page 65
