Body Heat (Vintage Category Romance) (3 page)

Mastin
.

He
bristled upon hearing her mumble the man’s name in her semi-conscious state. He might have to endure the invasion of this woman into his home and his life—if only brief at that—but he didn’t want to have to endure the moaning of a woman for her man while she was here.

Darian ran a hand under the blanket to check the condition of her legs and feet and
knew they were still entirely too cold. He raced to the fire, snatched the heated towels off the chairs, and crossed the room once more. He peeled her covers back long enough to wrap the warmed towels around her feet and legs and then replaced them.

She coughed again, still shivering, and Darian looked to her face.
He didn’t want to do it, not really, but he knew he was going to have to. Needed to. It might mean her life. She had to get warm. He had to bring her temperature up.

Body heat.

Darian removed his heavy flannel shirt and laid it on the foot of the bed. His boots came next—he left his socks on—then he removed his own denim jeans. Stepping a few steps away to a pile of laundry on top of an ancient chest of drawers, Darian picked up a pair of insulated long johns and put them on. As he padded back to the bed, he still reasoned with himself that it was the right thing to do. Then as he looked into her pitifully beautiful face, he knew. It
was
the right thing to do. And she would thank him for it when she woke up. Right?

Darian slipped between the covers, pulled her cold and shivering body next to his,
and wrapped his arms around her upper body, turning her into him, searing his warm naked chest against her frigid breasts as he tucked her into the nest he made for her within his arms; then he threw one leg over her towel-covered legs, pulling her even closer into the warmth his body offered.

Yes, he thought, as he
drew in the strawberry essence of her hair, she would thank him in the morning.

Chapte
r Two

Darian started backward at the sting that slapped him square across his right cheek.
He’d been dreaming, hadn’t he? Yes, about satin and lace and smooth supple skin and silky hair that would slide through fingertips and moist lips placed in the most unusual places and….

Smack
!

“
Get off me you stupid oaf!”

Darian snapped his eyes open at the blonde beauty laying slightly beneath him.
His hand cupped her breast. His leg was still thrown possessively over her thighs. His lips lay only inches from hers. Her blue eyes glared up at his with ice-cold precision.

“
Do I have to hit you again?”

Darian jumped back off the bed in one smooth motion.
Suddenly realizing he was standing before her in his long johns, he leapt to the other side of the cabin, grabbed the blue jeans he’d taken off the night before, jerked them over his body, and then cursed when he realized why he was having difficulty zipping his fly. Damnation all to hell! He’d not awoke with an erection since, since….

He shook the thought away.
Glancing out the window, Darian suddenly realized he’d slept way past his usual wake-up call—sunrise.
Dammit.

He
glanced back at the bed. The woman, now up on her knees in the center of the bed, was frantically trying to cover herself with a sheet—wrapping and tucking the large piece of fabric around her tiny body. When finally successful, her gaze lifted in sharp movement and caught his.

“
Where are my clothes?” she demanded.

Darian pointed to the chair next to the fireplace and opened his mouth to speak.

“And why are they off? Did you do that?”

“
Well, I had… You see they were…” Darian started for the stiff dried blue jeans hung over the chair.

“
And how did I get here?” she interrupted next. Fire leapt from her blue-embered eyes. “I don’t remember coming into the cabin.”

Darian took another step forward.
“You…”

“
Why were you in bed with me?” Her gaze kept the contact with his as she scooted closer to the edge of the bed and let one leg dangle over the edge.

Darian thought he
’d never seen a lovelier sight than the small shapely calf peeking out from under the sheet. “You were…”

“
Never mind. I don’t think I want to know.” She looked down then as she began to move the other leg next to the first and then quickly snapped her gaze back to his. “We didn’t… You and I… Did we?”

Darian stared at her.
He felt one mustached corner of his lip draw up slightly as a thought occurred to him. A terribly evil thought. He crossed his arms over his chest and watched with lewd pleasure at the look of horror that washed over her face.

“
We…didn’t.” Her head shook slowly from side to side as if trying to convince herself.

Darian rubbed his bearded chin with his hand as he felt the smirk
on his face grew ever broader.

“
Tell me, dammit. Did we or did we not. Do. It?”

Her eyes were as round as
his grandmother’s Wedgwood saucers. “You mean you’re actually going to let me finish a sentence?”

She glowered at him.
“I only need one word.”

“
What if it’s not the word you want to hear?”

She took a deep breath.
“It better be the one I want to hear or you’ve got more problems than you think. Now tell me.”

Darian cocked his head to one side.
“You don’t remember, then?”

“
No.”

Stepping forward toward the foot of the bed, Darian narrowed his eyes at her.
“Not much to remember, anyway.”

He
r back bristled. “Just what is
that
supposed to mean?”

He arched an eyebrow to her.
“What do you think it means?”

“
It better mean that there isn’t anything to remember.”

“
But it could mean that it wasn’t worth remembering.”

“
That’s not saying much for yourself, you know. If I can’t remember it, then it must not have been an earth-shattering experience for either of us.”

Darian studied her sitting there
, perched on the edge of the bed—his bed. She almost looked like she belonged there. “You know, there was a time last night when I actually thought you might thank me this morning.”

Her eyes narrowed and her chin tilted slightly in the air.
“Thank you for what? Sexually accosting me?”

Darian
’s voice lowered. “I didn’t sexually accost you.”

“
Then we didn’t do anything, right?”

“
I didn’t say that. All I said was that I didn’t take advantage of you.”

“
Well I sure as hell didn’t go willingly. And I obviously wasn’t conscious so I couldn’t give you my permission, so what do you call it then?” Her voice grew tighter and squeakier and louder with each succeeding word.

“
I’d call it saving your ass.”

She glared at him.
“Obviously you’re not going to cooperate with me, are you?”

Darian watched as
clutching the sheet tight around her, she swung the other leg over the side of the bed. He didn’t answer her.

“
Well, it doesn’t matter anyway. I’m getting out of here as soon as you…” The woman put her entire body’s pressure down on her right foot and started to stand up—she immediately pitched sideways with a wince of pain.

Darian caught her before she hit the floor.
He slipped one arm under her bent knees and the other behind her back. “Ankle?” He looked into her damp eyes as he asked the question and lifted her back onto the bed. His gaze held hers for a brief tension-filled moment. She nodded and tried to hide what he thought were tears of pain. Darian released her and stood up. His gut tightened. He hated the way she made him feel.

“
Only an idiot traipses around in the woods when she doesn’t know where she’s going and what she needs to survive,” he said angrily.

She nearly came up off the bed.
“Oh, so now I’m an idiot?”

“
You said it, not me.”

She did
rise up again, but wobbled back down.

“
Dizzy?”

Lying down against the pillow, she put the back of a hand to her forehead and turned her gaze away.
“What do you care? Give me my clothes. I’m getting out of here.”

“
You’re not going anywhere.”

Dropping her hand to her side, she glared at him.
“Wanna make a bet?”

Placing one knee on the
bed, he leaned forward and grasped both her upper arms. “Let me give you a little piece of advice: Don’t bet unless you know you can win.”

Her eyes pinned him at arm
’s length. “I repeat: What do you care?”

Darian felt his fingers tighten around her small upper arms.
Why does she make me so angry?
“I care because I don’t want a woman to die in my bed. You’re not going anywhere. It’s a long way to haul a corpse over my shoulder out of here.”

Darian watched her eyes grow large with alarm.
“Die?”

He let go of her and she sank back into the pillows.
“Look, you are a sick woman. When you got here yesterday you were in a near state of hypothermia, if not actually there. You’ve sprained your ankle and you’ve got scratches all over you, which we need to watch for infection. Not to mention that you’re probably going to get one hell of a nasty cold from wearing those wet clothes in this weather. You coughed and sneezed all night long. You’re not going anywhere until I say so.”

She sat up on her elbows and glared at him.
“Oh, really?”

Darian leaned over to within inches from her face.
“Yeah, really.”

She tilted her chin.
“I’ll walk out of here any time I damn well please.”

He examined the obstinate way her perk
y little face tilted up at him—the way her lower lip puffed out in defiance. “Not with that ankle, you won’t.”

“
Then you’ll have to drive me.”

“
Nope, no car.”

“
Then I’ll walk.”

“
In about a week.”

“
I can’t stay here with you.”

“
The nearest neighbor is three miles away. You don’t have a choice.” Darian could swear she moved her face closer just a bit. Or maybe he moved, but both their lips seemed only centimeters apart. His voice suddenly became softer, almost seductive. “You’re not well. You need bed rest and time for that ankle to heal. Until then, you’re staying right here.”

And
that gives me time to figure out what you’re up to, lady. And who sent you.

Watching her swallow what he imagined to be a huge lump in her throat,
she returned, “I guess I don’t have a choice.”

One corner of his mouth drew up slightly.
“I guess you don’t.”

“
But only on one condition.”

Darian arched an eyebrow to her.
“Oh?”

“
That I don’t do
bed rest
with you. You have to sleep somewhere else.”

Darian quickly jerked his body backward and stood over her smiling.
“Whatever you say. Not up to a repeat performance?”

She
jerked the pillow out from under her head and threw it. He had to stifle a smile as it caught it mid-air; then he watched her turn into the bed and pull the covers over her head.

****

Blaire was so dizzy she could hardly stand it. Every time she’d jumped up or leaned forward or shouted to make a point, her head nearly split in two and her stomach lurched. She hadn’t really felt nauseous until she started moving. Perhaps because she hadn’t eaten for a while—she didn’t know. But the fact remained, that she felt about as chipper as limp linguini. And linguini that had laid in the water too long at that.

So that was that.
She was stuck. At least a week, he’d said, until her ankle could support her weight. Well, we’ll see about that. She’d play along long enough to get him to sign the damned document….

Document. What did she do with the damned document?

Argh. Still in the car….

She sank deeper into M
acGlenary’s feather pillows and lifted one corner of her covers to peek out into the cabin. He stood facing the fireplace, his back turned to her—his broad, naked back with sinews and cords stretched sexily across it—and pushed at the wood in the fireplace with an iron poker. He moved away and she watched next as he pumped some water from the sink into a kettle and set it on top of a wood-burning stove.