Christmas Undercover

“Are you warm enough?” he asked.

She shrugged.

“How about another blanket?” He snatched one off a chair and placed it on the floor.

Her trembling fingers reached out and pulled the blanket beneath the bed. “Thanks.”

“Is there anything else I can do for you?” he said.

“No, thank you.”

He positioned himself in front of the fire. A few minutes of silence passed as he stared into the flames. The adrenaline rush had certainly worn off, because he was feeling the aches and pains from the beating he’d survived.

Survived because of Sara. She’d saved him from an ugly, painful death.

As energy drained from his body, he struggled to stay alert. Will needed to protect Sara, take care of her.

He glanced left. Her hand was sticking out from beneath the bed. Was she trying to make a connection with him? He positioned himself on the floor and peered under the bed. She’d changed positions and was lying on her side, bundled up in the blankets.

Bending his elbow, he brushed his hand against her petite fingers. She curled her chilled fingers around his.

“Wow, you are warm,” she said.

“Yeah,” he said, barely able to speak. This connection, the fact that touching Will comforted her, filled his chest with pride.

“Do you have a fever?” she said.

“Nah. The warm body temperature is a family thing. My girls run hot, too.”

“Your girls.” She closed her eyes and started to pull away.

Will clung to her hand. “No, don’t. I...I need the connection.”

She opened her eyes. “You do?”

“Yes.”

“But I’ve been horrible to you. Accusing you of being an assassin, tying you up.” Her eyes widened. “Oh, my God, that’s why your wrists were bleeding. You had to cut yourself free.”

She snatched her hand from his and rolled away.

Well, good news was she’d returned to reality and was no longer caught up in some trauma from her past. The bad news was she blamed herself for whatever pain Will had suffered.

He went to the other side of the bed. The fire didn’t light this part of the room so he couldn’t see her face, but he still tried to connect with her, there, in the dark.

“It’s not your fault,” he said. “You were terrified and confused, and most likely suffering from dehydration.”

“I gave you a bloody nose.”

“I startled you.”

“You were trying to help me.” She sighed. “I’m so ashamed.”

“Why, because you were protecting yourself from men who wanted to harm you? You should be proud. You escaped. You survived.”

“No, they were right. I don’t belong out here.”

“Where, in the mountains?”

She didn’t answer him.

“Sara?”

She rolled over again and he went to the other side of the bed. He bit back a groan against the pain of bruised ribs as he stretched out on the floor next to her.

“Could you do me a favor and stay in one position so I don’t have to get up and down again?” he teased.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not that bad. But the ribs are a little sore.”

“I meant, I’m sorry for everything that’s happened.”

“Sara, it’s not your fault.”

“Yes, it really is.”

Silence stretched between them, punctuated by the sound of the crackling fire. Will sensed there was more behind her words, but he wasn’t going to challenge her. He tried another strategy.

“Thank you,” he said.

“For what?”

“For saving my life out there.”

“You saved mine first.” She extended her hand again and he grasped it. Unfortunately it was still ice cold.

“Do you want to sit by the fire to warm up?” he offered.

“Maybe later.”

He sensed she was still frightened and probably felt vulnerable. But the more he knew about her situation, the better he could help her.

“Are you up to talking about what’s going on?” he asked.

“Sure.”

“Men are after you because you witnessed a murder?”