In The Arms Of A Stranger

The sound of Luke’s voice was startling yet comforting with its deep timbre. Despite herself, she smiled as she turned toward him. “I’m almost hungry enough to gnaw through this can.”

He grinned. “As entertaining as that would be, it’s not necessary.” He walked to a kitchen drawer and withdrew a metal can opener and fork, then came to stand beside her. “Pears, is it?”

“Yes, thanks.” Dana handed him the can, and he went to work on it, his large hands dwarfing the can. She glanced up at him.

“Six-four. Since I was fifteen.”

“Oh, I wasn’t…” Dana took the can when he offered it to her. “Okay, I was wondering.”

“I know.” He passed her the fork. “I would offer you a dish to put those in, but there aren’t any.”

“You keep doing that.”

“Offering you a fork?” Luke watched Dana’s expression go from confused to charmingly irritated.

“You seem to know what I’m about to say, about to do.”

He intentionally hesitated, waiting until her gaze slid upward to his. He wanted another look at her eyes in the daylight. They were an unusual shade of gray blue, but their color wasn’t what fascinated him. It was the way they expressed her thoughts. It wasn’t any wonder he knew what she was thinking. Hell, those eyes made her an open book.

The thought surprised him. After all, he’d had more suspicions than he’d known what to do with last night.

Luke watched her fork a dainty bite of pear and wondered how she managed to look sophisticated eating out of the can, with its jagged lid and faded sides. But she did. And, despite her ladylike demeanor, she didn’t make any bones about being hungry. She immediately slid another bite of the juicy pear into her mouth, catching a syrupy drip on her index finger and sucking it off. Luke felt his body harden with such intensity that he physically winced.

The fantasy that slid, uninvited, through his mind was totally out of place. He had no business thinking of Dana Langston as anything other than a potential victim, someone who needed his protection. But the effect the simple gesture had on him couldn’t have been stronger if she’d planned it. His thoughts stilled, traced their way back to his earlier suspicions before he dismissed them. There was a fine line between fact and instinct, a line Luke normally walked with ease. Normally.

A piercing cry cut the silence, and both Luke and Dana jumped. The baby was awake. Dana plopped the half-eaten can on the table and headed for the hallway, just as Luke made his way around the table and did the same. They collided, and the force of the collision knocked Dana against the wall. Luke instantly steadied her, catching her against his body in the shadowy hallway. He clenched his teeth against his body’s instinctual reaction to her nearness, to the distinctly female scent that assaulted his senses as his hand snaked around her waist.

This wasn’t going to do at all, he realized. Not at all. “Sorry,” he muttered through clenched jaw. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Her gaze lifted to his for a moment before drifting to the holster that was slung across his chest. She pulled away from his grasp and continued down the hall.

Luke let her go, running his hand through his hair and willing his body to return to normal. Had it been so long since he’d been with a woman that he’d begun to react as out of control as a sixteen-year-old schoolboy?

He could hear Dana in the next room. She was whispering to the baby, comforting him. Luke took a deep breath and joined her. “How is he?” he asked as he rounded the corner and saw Dana gently lay the baby back against the mattress.

“To be honest, stinky,” she replied.

Her eyes were lit with amusement and something that Luke couldn’t quite define. Something maternal that made him want to do nothing other than watch her. Maybe it was that the tender moment between Dana and the baby was so foreign to him. Or maybe it was because it triggered some long-buried memory of his own mother, a memory all but wiped out by the cold aloofness of his stepmother.

He shook off the thought. “So what do we do?”

“Uh…” Dana raised her voice to be heard over the baby’s insistent cries. “Can you get me the diaper bag?”

Luke retrieved the diaper bag from the floor, passing it to Dana. A rustling noise in the hall surprised him and he spun toward the sound, his hand going immediately to his gun. Sam stood in the doorway, his brow drawn into an inquisitive expression and his tail wagging cautiously. Luke walked to Sam and gave him a scratch behind the ears. The dog looked as puzzled as Luke felt. He could usually feel his way through any situation, but a baby was another matter entirely.

“I need, uh…”

Luke looked up to find the expression on Dana’s face had turned a little frantic. No wonder. Though she was busy fastening on a fresh diaper, the baby was still crying. Louder even, Luke thought. If that were possible.

Dana held up the dirty diaper, its contents neatly folded inside. The sticky tabs that had once secured it on the baby were now holding it in a perfect triangle. At least it looked harmless. Luke took the diaper from Dana’s hand.

“Can you throw that away for me?”

Her expression was slightly amused and slightly commanding. No doubt because he was standing frozen in place, smelly diaper in hand. Not much help in the scheme of things. He took the diaper to the porch and sat it outside. Freezing it to death seemed like a good enough plan.

When he returned to the bedroom, he found Dana sitting cross-legged on the mattress and the baby contentedly taking a bottle.

“There’s not much formula left,” she announced, her face pulled tight with worry. “How long do you think we’ll be stuck here?”

Luke thought of the solid layer of ice that lay beneath at least ten inches of snow, of the downed trees that dotted the landscape. He’d intentionally made light of the situation when he’d told Dana they were snowed in for “a few days.” Everything depended on how quickly the temperature rose, but it could be longer than a few days before they could attempt to navigate outside without committing suicide. Much longer, in fact.

“At this point it’s hard to say. How long do you think the formula will last?”

Dana glanced down at the diaper bag. “This is the last of the premixed bottles but there’s a small can of powder we can use. It’s only half-full, though. I really don’t know how long it’ll last.”

Luke nodded, determined not to make matters worse with any dire predictions. Surely there was something they could do other than watch their options disappear with the formula. He pulled the cell phone from the diaper bag. “I’m going to try and get a signal outside.” He turned to Sam, then pointed at the foot of the bed. “Stay.”

Dana looked relieved when Sam obeyed the command and plopped himself down with a contented sigh. “Be careful,” she whispered to Luke.

He nodded, thinking how the situation would look to someone who didn’t know them. A man, a woman and a baby tucked inside a cozy cabin with a greeting-card landscape outside. Hell, there was even a dog. Picture-perfect family.