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“I’m ready.”

And he was. Ready. To kiss her. To make love to her. To fuck her and have her screaming out his name.

“I’d say wrap up in the blankets but that may actually slow you down. One around your shoulders should be helpful. I’ll carry the rest.”

He snarled. “I can carry them. You have the bag.”

“And I’m better equipped to be out in this. We’re going to need to move fast and get you inside by the fire. We’re not arguing about this. You’re not only improperly attired to be out here but you’re still recovering. We can do it later, and you can read me a riot act on how men are supposed to do more, blah blah shit or whatever. Right now, we need to move.”

He was exhausted and wouldn’t argue being back where it was warm. With a nod of surrender, he handed over three of the blankets and wrapped himself up in the fourth. Before they exited the plane, he watched her bend over and check the feet of her canine. He wasn’t sure what she looked for, but the dog didn’t seem bothered by the attention.

I wouldn’t be either.

Bradford admitted it. He had it bad for this woman. He couldn’t explain why or what it was about her that created this need, urge or desire for her, but he didn’t care. He wanted her and he always got what he wanted.

Outside the snow fell much more heavily, and he flexed his toes in his dress shoes—definitely not proper ones to be wearing out in this kind of weather. This was going to suck.

“Let’s go.”

She went a different way than he’d been expecting. Not up the incline he’d come down, but toward the cave he’d been holed up in.

“Why are we going this way?” He tightened his grip on the blanket around him, thankful for the added warmth and protection, no matter how little it was.

“I don’t think your shoes will let you up that way. I struggled with my boots and they have proper tread.”

She didn’t even slow as she shouted to him. The snow and wind whipped up more around them, and he squinted against the stinging pellets. He kept close to her, the dog in front.

Bradford admired her poise and confidence out here. Hell, he was turned around already and he couldn’t see the plane parts anymore when he looked back.

His teeth chattered so hard by the time they were once again at the house, he wasn’t sure he would have any left after this. Everything hurt.

Iris herded him inside and to their room and he heard her slight sigh of relief when they stepped in and found the ceiling hadn’t fallen in on this part.

“By the fire with you,” she ordered, dropping the bag near the wood and immediately picking up a few more logs.

He obeyed and shivered as she knelt by his leg and added the pieces. Again on her feet, she nudged him closer. “Lose the blanket, it’s wet. You need to get out of your wet clothing.”

“Words I’ve longed to hear from you.”

“Good, start stripping.”

She wouldn’t look at him, but instead walked to the bag she’d dragged with her.

“I think this will fit you. I know you’re not going to be happy wearing it, but right now, I don’t think you have a choice. It’s fleece and it’s dry, so you’ll be warm soon and your clothing can dry out by the fire.”

He took the bag from her. She still wouldn’t meet his gaze. What the fuck was in there?

“I’ll go get some hot drinks.” Iris poked the leather bag. “You get changed.” She left.

Ran would be a far more apt description.

Putting the blanket over a chair near the fire, he unzipped the bag and released a litany of curses.

Was she fucking kidding? No way in the nine hells would he wear this.

Chapter Five

After heating water on her camp stove, Iris made them each a piping hot drink. Another cream of chicken soup, a bit of sustenance and warmth all wrapped up in one. She put two in a larger cup for Bradford and took one for herself. She would have been taking two personally on a normal day, but she had to be much more cautious with the food. She’d planned for a while, yes, but for one. Not for two.

Especially not with one of us being a goddamn Viking. No matter how hot said Viking was. None of it mattered, she had to think smart. Which meant not with those diabolical and traitorous ovaries who had been far too vocal since she’d first laid eyes on Bradford.

Once the stove had been turned off, she picked up the drinks and walked back through the cold to the room which thankfully was still holding heat well. She carefully opened the door and stepped inside.

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