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Bradford stood by the fire, the bag at his feet. Still in his wet clothing.

“I’m not fucking wearing that,” he growled at her when she walked closer.

The house rattled with the force of the wind. She handed him the cup of soup and kept her expression as blank as possible, because…yeah, she wanted to see this. Not only that but he needed to be in dry clothing. Tonight was going to be even colder than the previous night, the outside air had given that away on the way back to the house.

“You need to be in something dry. Is your ego such that you are willing to risk sickness and possible death to keep from wearing that? The jeans you had earlier have holes in them and the shirt you had was torn. Jacket as well. You don’t have anything else that’s good for you to be wearing right now. The sweats are soaked because you didn’t stay inside.”

He took the cup and curled long, strong fingers around it. Iris bit the inside of her lower lip to keep her slight moan—maybe it wouldn’t have been slight—contained.

“Here’s an idea. You wear it. I’ll wear your outer layer.”

Something above them creaked and they both glanced up, Iris ready to jump away if the ceiling collapsed, which was an extremely likely scenario, unfortunately.

“Nope. You need to get over yourself. It’s something that will most likely fit you and would be warm. It’s polar fleece for God’s sake. Take off your wet clothes, put it on and let them dry. Then you can go back to wearing your much thinner, much better suited for warm weather clothing.”

Bradford stood there staring at her, his dove gray eyes weighing everything he looked at. Which meant, every inch of her. Iris fought to keep from shifting beneath his assessment.

He put the cup to his lips and drank. Even so, he continued to stare at her. Iris exhaled as she stood there, ignoring her own drink as she watched him swallow. Seriously, did everything he did have to be so sexy? He wiped his hand over his mouth after he’d apparently finished the drink, and moved.

After stomping to her, he shoved the empty cup at her with a huff. “Not pleased with this, Iris.”

She shrugged. “Your life. But trust me when I say you’re going to be fucking cold when that fire goes lower. And unless you plan on standing directly in front of the flames, it’s going to be a long night for you.”

“Already is,” he muttered, stalking to the black bag she’d carried back.

Iris placed his cup by her feet and took a breath. Then she pivoted so the fire was at her back and she no longer looked at the man who was taking up far too much of her thoughts.

The least she could do was give him a bit of privacy.

“I think I’ll go out to my truck and bring in some line. That way your clothes can be hung.” She flattened her lips and nodded. “Yep, I’ll do that now.”

She walked out without slowing any more than necessary to open the door. Even closing it, she never once glanced into the one warmish room in the house. Just the thought of him undressing made it hard for her to handle.

I’m a mess. I’m flushed, horny and want nothing more than to beg that man to touch me. To just for a moment pretend I’m someone he would want to fuck.

Iris made sure her coat was fully zipped, went to the front door and stepped outside. The freezing snow that slammed into her was merciless. Full darkness was upon them, and she flexed her gloved fingers. It was going to be brutal tonight, and she was debating her decision to not try to drive back to a town.

Logically she was safer here. Food. Shelter. Heat. Who knew what could have happened on the drive.

Well, I wouldn’t be holed up with the one man who seems to excel at fueling my fantasies, including ones I didn’t know I had.

She braved the wind and pushed through the deep snow to the covered area where her vehicle sat. Creaking open the passenger door, as it wasn’t in direct line of the freezing wind, she crawled in and bent over into rear space. The layout of her vehicle was so familiar to her she could maneuver in the dark and find whatever she needed. Even in her sleep. Things always had the same place.

After grabbing the rope, she debated on trying to start the engine just to make sure it would turn over. Another blast of wind rocked the SUV and she shook her head.

Tomorrow.

Right now, she was exhausted and cold. Not to mention hungry.

Horny. Don’t forget horny.

Snarling at her inner voice, she exited out of the cold vehicle and shoved the door shut. Then she made the long trek to the house, which despite everything, she had begun to want to keep.

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