Rescue My Heart (12 page)

Not much.

“Maybe we should try to get to Kaniksu right now,” she said quietly.

Clearly, they were done with this conversation. Worked for him just fine—except now she wanted to try to get to caves. At night. His biggest nightmare, of course. “You want to move across twenty miles of rugged, isolated terrain in the dark.”

“Fine. Stupid idea.” She looked around at the fire, at the dilapidated ranger station that was little more than a three-sided hut, at the million acres of remote, isolated, rugged forestland surrounding them. “Could really use some more sugar,” she said.

He started to rise to go to his pack, but she put out her hand. “No!” She shook her head. “God, no. Don’t you dare bring out any more. My jeans are too tight as it is.”

Not from where he was sitting…

She yawned and then sighed. “Do you really have more candy bars?”

“I’ve got a lot of things.”

“Like?”

“Spare clothes and gear, topo map, compass, water, knife, first-aid kit, rope, rations…”
Condoms…

“You’re practically a Boy Scout.”

Yeah, not exactly. He watched her fight another yawn and gestured to the shelter. “Go to sleep, Holly.”

She pulled her sleeping bag from her pack and headed inside the shelter.

Adam gestured to Milo, and the dog followed her, sitting in the opened doorway where he would act as dubious guard dog. Adam stayed at the fire’s edge, figuring that was
the safest place for him. The air was still now and very cold. There were no sounds except the crackle and pop of the fire, and his own thoughts. It was damn rare that he allowed himself the luxury of what-ifs, but he was slammed with them now. What if he’d not broken up with her? What if he’d kept in touch? What if he’d told her how he felt? Would she still feel the same about him now as she had then, or would she have eventually dumped his sorry ass?

And the biggest question of them all—would they still be here, right here, caught up in the tangle of memories and emotions he no longer had the capacity for?

From where he sat, he could hear her tossing and turning. He knew without looking over there that she was cold. He grabbed his sleeping bag, and moved to her. “Get up a second.”

“I’m not taking your sleeping bag, too,” she said.

“Not taking. Sharing.”

She sat up slowly, warily, watching as he unzipped his bag and then pulled hers off her body. She’d kicked off her boots but other than that remained fully dressed. He unzipped her bag, too, and then laid his flat, with hers on top.

Holly stared at the makeshift bed as if it were a poised rattlesnake, then unzipped her jacket—his, actually. He forgot to breathe, torn between wanting her to keep going and stopping her.

She wriggled out of the jacket, then carefully rolled it up. She set it in the middle of the opened sleeping bag like it was the border crossing of Baghdad—except maybe even more guarded.

“No crossing the line,” she said.

He met her gaze. “Are you worried about me or you?”

She crossed her arms. “I’m not
that
attracted to you.”

He toed the jacket. “You don’t need this—you’ve already drawn the line in the sand. I think I can control myself.” He was ninety-nine percent sure.

Okay, seventy-five.

Pointedly leaving the jacket in place, she slid between the opened sleeping bags and lay down, facing away from him.

He stared at her stiff spine and then found himself smiling. “I get it. You’re not worried about me. You’re worried about you.
You
can’t control yourself.”

She let out a derisive snort that didn’t fool him for one moment. But the humor passed quickly because with
neither
of them trustworthy, he couldn’t lie down.

“Where are you going?” she asked when he moved to the doorway again.

“To bank the fire.” And to take a minute. A long one. He needed to think. It had taken her a while to get over him? Well, it had taken him a while, too. But he
had
gotten over her. He’d gotten over everything.

And she could do much better than being with a guy who now chose to feel nothing at all.

H
olly watched through the open wall of the hut as Adam poked at the flames. He wore multiple layers, including his down jacket, so she could only imagine the muscles of his back bunching and working, but her heart still skipped a beat, anyway.

Ridiculous. She’d given away far too much of herself to this man. Then. Now.

No more.

She sat up, arms clasped around her knees, concentrating on breathing evenly. Was he going to sleep out there? Then he’d be the cold one, and she wouldn’t be able to relax worrying about him.

Holly, Holly, Holly,
she chided herself.
You’re not worried about him being cold so much as him not coming back in here.

As if sensing her gaze, he rose and turned to her. It was snowing again, she realized, as he stepped under the dubious protection of their shelter, approaching in his usual silent way.

There’d been a time when just watching him had upped her pulse rate, when one look from him could melt her clothes away. Remembering that, what they’d had, yearnings assaulted her, no matter that she didn’t want to feel them. He had a back-off demeanor now, which contrasted with the way he touched her as if she meant something to him. It confused her.

Hurt her.

And worse, she had no one but herself to blame. His words, when he’d chosen to give her any, had made things clear. He had no interest in a relationship of any kind. This was about finding her father.

That was all.

The fire’s glow reflected off the fine sheen of melting snow covering his hair, face, and arms. The light played off the angles of his face as he came to a stop at the foot of their “bed.” He unzipped his jacket, spreading it out on his pack to dry overnight. Next, he pulled off his sweatshirt. Beneath, he wore a thin long-sleeved shirt that clung to his every muscle. Using those muscles, he bent and untied his boots.

A sound involuntarily escaped her, and he glanced up.

She shook her head. Nothing. Nothing at all. In fact, she was just sitting here…

He kicked off the boots and rose. She wondered if he was going to lose anything else. Her body voted for the jeans, and at just the thought, she shivered.

“Cold?” he asked.

No. She was actually having quite the hot flash—not something she planned on admitting.

Adam checked on Milo, curled up by their packs. He stroked and praised the dog, then dropped to his knees at Holly’s side. Little droplets of melted snow flew off of him, a few hitting her, sizzling on her heated skin.

“Sorry, I’m all wet,” he said.

Yeah. And he wasn’t the only one, she thought wildly as the fragrance of damp Adam drifted over her.

Heaven.

He stretched out on his side of the bedding, and when he came too close to the boundary of the United States of Holly, she adjusted the folded jacket.

He slid her a look.

She didn’t care. She was taking no chances with herself. She would never survive a sexual encounter with him. And there would be a sexual encounter if they touched in the night. She could feel it. She—

A sound escaped him, one that seemed to be a low laugh. Startled, her gaze jerked up to his.

Yeah, he was definitely laughing, the bastard, chuckling low in his throat. Momentarily stunned at the smile on his face, the kind that included his eyes and affected her heart rate, she blinked.

“You’re thinking so loud I smell something burning,” he said.

“This really isn’t very funny.”

“You’re right.” He sat up in the middle of his designated area and folded up his discarded sweatshirt. Flashing her another rare smile, he placed it down as his pillow, and lay on his back, feet casually crossed, arms up behind his head. His shirt molded to every line of sinew on him.

She stared at him, eaten up with jealousy once again, this time over his “pillow.”

“Problem?” he asked.

Oh, hell no would she admit that she wanted to share his pillow. “Not as long as you stay on your side.”

He turned to face her, propping up his head with a hand. “You’re such a liar.” He was still smiling when he leaned over her, bracing his other hand on the ground at her far hip to give her a quick, hot kiss on the lips.

She gaped up at him in shock. Actually, she nearly moaned. “What was that?”

Still holding himself over her, he’d gone still, staring at her mouth as he slowly shook his head.

“Adam—”

“Shh a second,” he said, and just looked at her. Then he lowered his head again. He started with small, brushing kisses, but it wasn’t enough and she opened her mouth, touching her tongue to his lower lip.

A low sound escaped deep in his throat and he kissed her until her toes curled in her boots.

She had one hand in his hair, the other on his chest. Beneath her fingers, she could feel his heart pumping. The realization that she had every bit as much power over him as he had on her was heady. Closing her eyes, she let herself live in the moment, soaking up his taste, his touch, his scent, the heat that radiated off his body, all combining to rob her of the ability to think, to do anything but feel. And oh boy, the things she was feeling. He was deliciously hard, everywhere, and her hands were roaming south when he broke the kiss and rested his forehead against hers. After a minute, he lifted his head, shaking it as if befuddled.

Then he kissed the tip of her nose and…lay down.

While she continued to stare at him, he made himself comfortable, flat on his back again, all long-limbed, easy grace. And then he closed his eyes, his breathing immediately slowing and evening out, his body relaxed.

She stared at him, boring holes into him with her eyes. Because how could he relax? She couldn’t relax, not with her body humming with a tension she didn’t want to name, and her heart flapping ineffectively against her ribs. And then there were the other reactions, the ones she hadn’t had in mixed company in a very long time.

Adam’s hands were clasped on his flat stomach, his feet crossed. And if he breathed any slower, she’d have to check him for a pulse. He was clearly already deeply asleep, and this was as irritating as everything else about him.

“Lie down,” he said, a quiet demand that had her nearly leaping out of her own skin.

She rolled her eyes at him, which was a waste because
his eyes were still closed, but she did lie down. She tried flat on her back, but there was a rock beneath her butt. And she was cold. She wished she hadn’t been so adamant about the barrier. In hindsight, that might have been cutting her own nose off to spite her face.

Not to mention proving that she was every bit as stubborn as he thought.

Frustrated, she flopped onto her right side, facing away from him. But that rock that had bit into her butt was now hurting her hip. She flopped over to her left side and—

Adam reached out, yanked the jacket out from between them, slid a muscled arm around her waist and hauled her in so that she was spooned to him, her back to his front.

Heat infused her. His heat, which radiated out from his body to hers. “This isn’t okay,” she said.

“You still cold?”

Her head was pillowed on his bicep. His arm was wrapped around her, holding her closely, his hand opened wide and sitting disturbingly low on her belly. The backs of her thighs were plastered to the front of his and…and all their other parts were perfectly lined up. This made her parts very happy. And that wasn’t all. She could feel that his parts were happy, too.

“Holly.”

“No,” she managed. “I’m not still cold.” She was on fire…

“Good. Go to sleep.”

Was he kidding? How was she supposed to sleep when all she wanted to do was turn over and…No. Don’t go there. She sighed and regrouped, thinking about…mmm, if she wriggled just a little bit she could feel his muscles go all taut. Goodness, the man was locked and loaded. She squeezed her eyes shut and wracked her brain for a new train of thought in order to keep from rolling over and jumping his bones.

Her dad was still missing.

Yes, that did it. That swiped the sexual thoughts from her more effectively than a bucket of ice water would have. They were doing all they could to find him. Adam was doing all he could. And he’d made sure she was safe and fed and warm while he was at it.

It had been a long time since she’d let anyone take care of her, and she’d have thought it would be unsettling and uncomfortable. And while she’d like to think she could have handled this by herself, she knew she couldn’t have.

Adam had come through for her, and he’d done so without any hesitation at all. In fact, the whole day had gone by and he’d only asked her one thing. It had been a question, a personal one, too personal to answer at the time. “Pride,” she whispered.

Adam stirred slightly. “What?”

“Earlier you asked why I didn’t tell anyone about my marriage falling apart. It was pride. Stupid pride.”

He let out a surprised breath, disturbing the hair at her temple. “Why are you telling me this now?”

Good question. “I guess I just want you to understand. I didn’t run off and get married to get back at you. I did it for even more stupid reasons than that.”