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“I want...to see you,” she said, catching her breath as the pain in her head peaked and subsided. “There.” She exhaled. “See? Totally worth it.” She smiled at him, tugging her tangled necklace away from her throat. It was a goofy smile, she could tell, and maybe her eyes crossed a little, but it was a smile just the same.
His brief struggle for words was ample reward.
“Foolish,” he sputtered. “You could have a concussion. You should lie still for the rest of the day.” He pulled back as he spoke but she wasn’t having it. At her imitation of a shiver he drew instantly close, wrapped her in his huge arms and pressed the planes of his abdomen against her curves. She couldn’t help the sigh that escaped.
“Better? Warmer?” His eyes searched hers.
She kept her nod small so as to not upset her skull.
He exhaled. “You gave me a hell of a scare.” He drew her closer and rubbed his hand across his brow.
“Better,” she sighed, tucked against his chest and smiling like the cat who’d got the cream.
~
Grant rubbed his temples as the last two hours swirled in his mind—the crackling fire, the semi-nude woman curled in his arms, the near-death experience that confused her into kissing him. That kiss would have been a slam dunk except everything about it was horribly wrong.
Grant’s skin crawled at the memory of Melinda’s body twisted in the snow, that damned rotten branch tangled in her hair. He shook off the image and shoved more wood into the stove. The snowstorm had raged all afternoon since their return and tonight would be harder than the one before.
His distraction failed; his movement stilled. The flashback of their hour in front of the fireplace played like an erotic movie in his mind. She’d made it difficult on him, snuggling into his embrace while he’d tried to keep his distance.
“This is an interesting way to save me,” she’d said, pressing her breasts into his chest. Mind over matter. Exactly how many snowflakes were there in a typical snowstorm?
“You were on your way to hypothermia,” he replied stiffly. “This was to save your life.”
“Well then,” she breathed. “Would it throw a wrench in your chivalry if I said how much I’m enjoying being rescued?”
Grant had had no idea what to say. He’d gone from mild flirtation to sprinting through a blizzard with an unconscious woman in his arms, and now he was struggling to stay on his white horse. Was that her foot inching up his leg? Those were definitely her fingers teasing the hair on his chest.
“You need to rest,” he said weakly, cringing. Pathetic.
“I need to get warm,” she whispered, and kissed him.
Oh, hell.
Kissing her was like alighting from a tornado. There was noise and panic and whirling energy, then suddenly there was stillness. Softness. Melinda’s lips brushed his and drew him further from the storm. Don’t just lie there, dummy. Did the branch hit her or you? Fortunately Grant had remembered how to move his arms and had come alive. Taking delicate control of the kiss, he’d shifted his lower arm to cradle her head in his hand. His other arm snaked down her torso to press his palm into the small of her back. She moaned into his mouth, and his hips pressed into hers involuntarily.
He couldn’t lose control. Nobody liked a debaucher dressed like a hero. Angling his head over hers he slowly turned her onto her back, careful to support his weight while caressing her face. She was less inhibited. When she’d kissed him, her hands had been against his chest, but now they were everywhere. Wound around the nape of his neck, buried deep in his hair, stroking the length of his back.
“Melinda,” he tore out, propping himself above her to stare at her glorious skin in the firelight. “Melinda, this can’t happen. You have to rest. And I have to get us ready for tonight. We’re losing light.”
It was an excuse, but it was true, even though it couldn’t have been later than three thirty. That was winter in the mountains. He had to get away from her. He had to keep them both alive. Her beautiful eyes opened lazily and refocused on him. If she kissed him again he’d be lost.
“Please, let me go,” he begged, his forehead a hair’s breadth from hers. “You have to rest. I’ll get you some dry clothes and help you to the couch. If for no one else, rest for me, because I’m worried about you.”
After a long moment she acquiesced. She smiled shyly and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.
“Carry me to your couch castle, if you must.” Grant grinned and complied.
He called to her several times as he raided Paul’s closet for dry clothes to make sure she was still conscious in the other room. Then he checked her pupils and allowed her to sleep.
~
Melinda was propped by pillows, wrapped in blankets, drinking endless hot tea. She was achy. She was groggy. She was confused. The mountain man was stomping somewhere, chopping something, missing in action but at least giving her time to think.
She felt better in some ways and worse in others. Better for having rested. Better for the heating pad around her neck. Better for not being left to freeze to death. Thank you, Kidnapping Mountain Man Grant, whatever you are. Worse because the swelling in her head was mind-numbing, and her neck and shoulders throbbed down to the bone. Worse because she’d been off her rocker earlier and had kissed him.
Melinda sipped her tea and watched the flames.
