Safe by His Side

Instantly he felt the wet and cold invade the warmth of his dry clothes. Raine blew out a breath of frustration and did the only thing he could—he picked her up and carried her to the bathroom. He had to get this lady warmed up fast. As cold as she was, shock and hypothermia represented definite threats. Concern overrode his usual self-preservation instincts.

He settled her on the closed lid of the toilet and watched for a moment to ensure that she wasn’t going to fall over. She shivered uncontrollably. He crouched in front of her and removed her hiking boots and rolled off her socks. She sat there, seemingly unaware of his movements.

Raine opened the shower door and twisted the hot-water valve to wide open. Once the water was steaming, he adjusted it to a bearable but still plenty hot temperature.

“Okay, lady, let’s see if we can’t get your body temperature headed in the right direction,” he muttered more to himself than to her. If she heard him, she didn’t react.

Raine pulled the dazed woman to a standing position and then helped her into the shower. When the hot water hit her she gasped, shuddered violently and sagged against the translucent glass wall. Before Raine could catch her, she slumped to the tile floor, the water spraying directly on her face.

“Damn,” he growled. He reached inside and tried to pull her to her feet, she only whimpered and huddled more deeply into a fetal position. Muttering expletives, Raine stepped into the cubicle and pulled her to her feet, then wished to hell he had turned off the water first. Too late now. Besides, she needed the heat a lot more than he needed comfort.

“You have to get out of these clothes,” he told her. Liquid heat pelted his skin through his flannel shirt.

She lifted her hands to her blouse and worked on a button, her movements stiff and awkward. Raine swore under his breath. At this rate, she’d never get her clothes off. Raising her body temperature was top priority. He had hoped to allow her some privacy during the process. But if she couldn’t do it, he’d just have to do it for her.

What the hell? He’d undressed plenty of women in the past. He pushed her hands away and deftly began to release the remaining buttons.

She jerked back and stared up at him. He could see that it took her a while to bring him into focus. “What are you doing?” she asked weakly and clutched at his hands. Her pupils were unevenly dilated.

He cursed through clenched teeth.

Concussion.

She had a damn concussion. Why hadn’t he noticed that before? He knew the signs. Her left temple was bruised. Gingerly he touched the discolored spot. She winced and drew away but not before he felt the size of the lump that had formed there.

“We need to take the rest of your clothes off. We have to get you warm and into something dry,” he said as he resumed the unbuttoning process. To his relief, her hands fell away and she made no further protest.

“Thank you,” she said softly, her breath whispering across his downturned face.

Raine tightened his jaw. He wouldn’t say she was welcome—because she wasn’t. He didn’t want her here…didn’t need her here. But he couldn’t just let her die out in the cold any more than he could neglect an injured animal. He looked at the woman silently watching his fingers undo the final button of her blouse and wondered if he was making a big mistake.

He peeled the wet blouse down her arms and pitched it to the bathroom floor. Steam billowed around them and sweat beaded on his forehead as he reached for the hem of her undershirt. She automatically lifted her arms and closed her eyes. When he pulled the undershirt over her shoulders and then her head, he tensed. The scrap of cotton slipped from his fingers and joined her blouse on the wet tile floor.

Raine’s gaze riveted to her naked breasts. Not particularly large breasts, but they were nicely rounded and the rosy tips tilted slightly upward. He had the sudden, insane urge to draw one into his mouth and taste it.

She shivered and he forced his gaze back to her face only to find her watching him from beneath half-closed lids. Her lips parted and for one instant Raine allowed himself to want her, but then she whispered, “I’m so cold.”

Raine turned his back and silently cursed himself for the bastard he was. “You can do the rest,” he said harshly. Surely she could get her jeans off. Hell, she probably could have gotten the blouse off if he’d given her time. Perverted SOB, he cursed himself once more.

What the hell had gotten into him? It hadn’t been that long since he’d had a woman. Ogling an injured female was about as low as a man could go. A muscle in his tense jaw jumped when he heard her small sounds of frustration and fatigue as she struggled with the wet jeans. Raine clenched his fists and ignored the urge to turn around and look at her. The spray of hot water on his chest did nothing to calm his mounting tension or the hard-on he had acquired in the last sixty seconds.

He flinched when she touched his rigid shoulder. “I can’t do it,” she said wearily.

Raine licked his lips and swallowed tightly. This was damn ridiculous. He’d seen more than his share of naked women, what the hell was the big deal with this one?

He turned around slowly and met her pleading gaze with an annoyed glare.

“I’m sorry,” she managed to say weakly before collapsing against the shower wall.

Raine set his jaw so hard he thought his teeth would crack. He grasped the waistband on either side of her slender hips and tried without success to peel the material down as he’d done with the blouse, but the tight-fitting jeans wouldn’t cooperate. He sucked in a deep breath and did what he knew he had to. Raine pushed his hands inside and worked the material, panties included, down over her icy skin.

She was lucky to be alive. The last time he’d touched skin this cold, it had belonged to a dead man.

As chilled as her body was, his was getting more heated by the moment. His groin tightened painfully when his hands moved over the swell of her hips and glided down several inches of thigh. He straightened, held her firmly by the waist, placed his bare foot between her legs and pushed the jeans and skimpy panties down to her ankles. He immediately averted his gaze from the triangle of dark curls between her thighs.

He almost groaned. He’d been in these woods longer than he’d realized.

She braced both hands against his chest while she struggled to kick her feet free of the soggy material.

“Thank you,” she murmured on a frail breath when she’d finally freed herself. She squeezed her eyes shut and swayed back against the wall.

Raine kicked the jeans to one side. “No sweat,” he lied.

He knew the hot water wouldn’t hold out much longer, so he stripped off his own shirt, pulled her against him and turned her back to the hot spray. She sucked in a sharp breath and clung to him helplessly. He bit the inside of his jaw to stifle the groan that rose in his throat at the feel of her firm breasts pressed into his chest.

Damn, this woman was going to kill him and she didn’t even have a weapon.

They stood in the steamy shower until the water began to cool and her shivers had subsided. Raine held her steady with one arm while he turned off the water. He guided her out and helped her dry. He focused intently on the job rather than the peach-colored skin flushed from the hot shower.

He used another towel to squeeze her long, thick hair dry. Neither spoke during the drying process. Raine refused to acknowledge how good her made-for-loving body looked. Curvy and firm, yet soft. Tall, but not too tall, with long, shapely legs. Chestnut-brown hair and dark chocolate eyes—eyes that would surely darken even more with passion.

When her hair was as dry as it was going to get without a blow-dryer, Raine wrapped a clean towel around her and tucked the corner beneath her arm. He quickly dried his chest and arms and tossed his towel to the floor, then swiped his wet feet.

She gazed up at him with those dark, shimmering eyes, a ghost of a smile touched her lips. “I feel much warmer now.”

Before he could respond, her knees buckled and Raine barely caught her before she hit the floor. He drew her into his arms and carried her into the bedroom. After depositing her on the bed, he rummaged through the chest of drawers until he came up with a bulky sweatshirt. It would fit more like a dress on her, but it would have to do. Besides, he decided, beggars couldn’t be choosers. He looked at his unwelcome visitor as he retraced his steps to the bed. At the moment she didn’t look as if she cared about much one way or another.

“Hold up your arms,” he ordered. She obeyed and Raine immediately regretted his command. With her arms extended above her head, the towel fell away from her upper body, giving him another good look at her perfect breasts.

Raine shoved the sweatshirt sleeves onto her arms and then pushed the neck opening over her head with a bit more force than was necessary. She winced as the material slid down her face.

“Dammit,” he muttered. He’d hurt her, and all because he couldn’t prevent his body’s reaction to hers. Raine stepped to the side of the bed and drew back the covers. When he had readjusted the irritating bulge in his wet pants, he walked back to the foot of the bed and lifted the woman into his arms. She pressed her cheek to his chest and closed her eyes. He frowned when his heart skipped a beat or two at the feel of her soft cheek against his skin. What the hell was wrong with him? He didn’t usually get so worked up over a blasted female.

Raine placed her in the middle of the bed and covered her with every blanket and quilt he could find. He stalked into the great room, fingered the thermostat to a higher setting, then placed several logs on the fire. He stoked the blaze until he was satisfied that it wouldn’t go out for a while. Then he trudged back to the bedroom and adjusted the blinds to let in the warm glow from the sun that had finally broken through the thick clouds hanging in the sky. The rain had stopped.

The newscast had said that the temperature would reach a pleasant forty degrees today, if the clouds cleared. Raine blew out a disgusted breath and turned back to the bed.

There was no telling how far his mystery guest had walked before she had stumbled upon his place. Raine had picked this particular cabin because of its seclusion. With the high volume of tourists floating in and out of Gatlinburg, his was just another face in the crowd on the rare occasions that he went into town. The last thing he had expected way out here was company.

As soon as he was sure the woman was out for the count, he’d put on dry clothes and take a ride to check out her vehicle. There would likely be some form of identification in her car. He wanted to verify her accident story as well, for his own peace of mind. She certainly seemed harmless enough, but Raine hadn’t survived this long by letting his guard down—even for a beautiful woman in distress.

If she had merely had an accident and showed up at his door for help, she had nothing to worry about. He’d keep an eye on her and rouse her every couple of hours just to be safe. When she awoke, he would drive her into town and drop her off at the emergency room. He had enough medical training to know she would probably be fine, but medical attention wouldn’t hurt.

If anything at all appeared suspicious about her ID or the means by which she had arrived at his door, she wouldn’t need medical attention—she’d need an undertaker.

HER EYES OPENED and she blinked to focus. She stared at the white ceiling for a long time before it occurred to her to try to move. Her head ached and felt oddly heavy. She licked her lips. Her mouth was as dry as sandpaper and she could hardly swallow.

On her left, sunlight poured into the room from a large window, spreading its golden glow across deep green carpet. The bright light hurt her eyes, but at the same time felt good against her face. She was tired and it was quiet. Maybe she should just go back to sleep, she thought, her eyes closing of their own accord.