Lost Rhodes, page 4
He hummed as he pressed tighter against her back. Then he draped an arm over her waist and flattened his hand on the outside of her shirt. A moan nearly slipped free, and she gulped hard to keep it contained.
“You’d rather sleep on a mattress that’s been exposed to the elements and God knows what from animals as opposed to lying here with me?”
“I was just thinking that there are creatures that could be potentially picked up from you so it doesn’t so much matter if I can be more comfortable.”
Bradford chuckled. “I’m completely critter free, darlin’.”
She relaxed into him and looked at the fire before shutting her eyes once more. “To be fair, I don’t know any man who is going to admit they’ve picked something up.”
He spread his fingers against her belly, and she couldn’t ignore the zap of electricity that moved through her when he brushed his nose against her neck.
“If you really want the mattress, I’ll help you move it.”
Back and forth his fingers moved against her, and even through the clothing, she swore his heat marked her. Singed her. Branded her.
Her body relaxed, her mind releasing its hold on her, and with each breath she took slumber intermingled with desire and crept over her.
* * * *
Iris woke later, this time chest to chest with this man she’d not only rescued, but believed she wouldn’t ever forget.
Tight to him, his large strong arms around her, anchoring her close to him, she couldn’t recall a time she’d ever felt so safe. Regardless of the situation they were in. And the last thing this was, was safe.
She yawned and shifted in his embrace, moving until she felt a bit more secure in breathing so she didn’t kill him with her morning breath. She rolled away from the temptation of his lips and the desire she had to nip that plump lower one before sucking it into her mouth. The fire was dangerously low, and she knew she had to crawl out of the warm cocoon and address that issue.
Bradford grunted and splayed his hand across her belly, yanking her tighter to him with a single move. She bit her lower lip at the insistent press of his substantial erection into her ass.
“Don’t go,” he mumbled. “Stay, baby.”
That alone served as an icy reminder that this man was a playboy and she needed to keep her distance. She frowned and decided it was time to chance the freezing temperatures. Reaching for the edge of the covering, she closed her eyes briefly to remind herself this shit was going to be very cold.
Bradford cupped her breast and toyed with her nipple. She swallowed a moan of pleasure and struggled with the urge to just relax back into him and allow whatever he was thinking about to continue. But the logical side of her refused to be nothing more than a metaphorical notch on some guy’s bedpost.
Iris took a deep breath and gripped the cover’s edge tighter, preparing to climb out when… Holy shit! When did his hand get under her layers, holding her bare breast?
Gah, she hated how her body clenched and slicked in preparation for something more. This time the moan slipped out, and she gulped hard. His hand was large and callused where it held her breast, and he wasn’t letting her go.
She didn’t want to be let go.
He pulled and tugged on her nipple until it peaked. His thumb skimmed back and forth over the tip, increasing her desire with each pass.
Nope. Absolutely not.
Grasping his wrist, she removed his hand from where it felt all too right under her shirt and got out from the bedding before she could give his action any more thought. The cold air was a shock, and she sucked a deep breath as she shuddered.
Piros lay near the fire but lifted his head when she neared. She paused to give him some love before moving on to the task at hand. Coaxing the slumbering fire back to life, she rubbed the back of her neck as she rocked back on her heels.
With a quick check to her watch, she frowned. Too early. Too fucking early. But she was up now. She shrugged into her coat and boots before snapping her fingers at Piros, not that he needed to be told to accompany her.
One final glance back to Bradford and she breathed a bit more easily to see him still sleeping. She figured he needed as much rest as possible, given what he’d been through.
“Let’s go, boy.”
Out in the main area of the house, she tugged on her mittens over her gloves as she made her way to the front door. At the last minute, she took them off and returned the mittens to the room Bradford slept in. He may need them.
She squinted out through the blowing snow at the thin sliver of light coming from the morning sun. The weak morning sun.
“Next time we head out for Christmastime, we’re picking a place with actual heat and functional indoor plumbing.”
Her faithful companion leaned against her leg ever so briefly. With a final glance behind her, reassuring herself the door to the only semi-warm room remained closed, Iris took a deep breath and stepped out into the cold of the Rocky Mountains morning.
The path she’d worked down on the porch earlier had been covered again and her boots crunched as she sank through the hardened crust of the gathered snow.
“No arguing its beauty,” she said as they made their way down the three steps. She didn’t dawdle as she took care of her own needs, wiped her hands with a cleansing cloth and put it back in the bag she always carried.
Once her gloves were on, she turned up the collar of her extremely warm coat, tugged down her blackberry wine-color spray-splattered pom beanie over her fleece-lined headband. She was warm, but even so, she didn’t want to be out too long. She simply needed to get a crisp walk in for her sanity.
After confirming she’d put the proper collar on Piros, they struck out, wind blowing fallen and falling snow around them. Even though this was nothing but a nice wandering walk, she continued to keep her coordinates so she didn’t get lost.
As they went, Piros occasionally vanished to do his own thing, but he never went far. Before too long Iris found herself on the edge of the meadow that the crash had been on the opposite end of, down the decline.
She didn’t want to go back there but she couldn’t resist taking another look, just to make sure she’d not condemned someone to spend the night there. Hands in her pockets, she lengthened her stride to make it over the large field.
I could do so much with this space. Horses. Dogs. Camp for kids to help them learn about being outdoors, tenting, survival and that kind of thing.
Her mind whirled with the endless possibilities. She allowed a slow grin to tug up her lips as she neared the end of the meadow. This was feasible. With a sharp whistle for her dog, she watched him come streaking out of the woods and running over the snow, his coat a vivid contrast to the blinding whiteness surrounding them.
The decline down to the wreckage shone like a glossed sheet of ice. She took a deep breath, cursed the cold once more, then angled to the side and headed down, Piros following behind using the snow she broke through.
Her gut churned as she realized what the corpses had been subjected to with her having left them here. The animals had done what they do, but she could see here and there that there were parts of the people left.
Trusting Piros to alert her if any predator was nearing, Iris began poking around in the wreckage. Maybe I can find something on who these others were. Who he is or something more for him to wear. I can’t drive him anywhere, and he needs more than just those sweatpants.
For both of their sakes.
She didn’t see any luggage to maybe find him some clothing that would help, and neither did she find anything which would be of any form of assistance. Piros entered the body of the plane behind her and lay down on the carpet that hadn’t been covered in snow or burned up in the flames.
“I don’t see anything here, Piros. We should get back.”
A low growl slid from him, and she whipped to the door in time to see a ruddy-faced man with snow in his hair and scruff step up, blocking the jagged hole that had been torn in the side of the jet.
Bradford.
An unfair blend of concern, anger and relief spread through Bradford as he found his elusive savior. The bed, makeshift though it was, had been empty of her lush curves and body heat when he’d awoken. The fire had been burning and the room had been warm, relatively speaking. At least compared to the rest of the building.
After dressing and making sure the zippered hoodie’s hood was up, he’d tugged on the mittens as he headed to the front door. He still had shit shoes but couldn’t do anything about that. In the daylight the building was beautiful. At least the bones of it were. She did have a lot of work ahead of her if she was keeping it. Regardless, there was no denying how it would look finished, if they fixed instead of demolishing and rebuilding new.
Even with his few layers on, he felt the biting chill push through him. He struck off and swore as his shoes sank through the snow.
Where the hell is she?
He pissed on a tree and squinted as he looked around, searching for any sign of where she’d gone. After confirming she wasn’t in the garage or in her vehicle, which sat beneath the carport, he saw some prints leading off to the woods. And followed.
Now here he stood at the plane, feet cold as fuck and so was the rest of him.
“What are you doing?” he barked.
Her eyebrow was arched as she skimmed him with her gaze. Despite the cold which had seeped through his clothing, or rather her clothing, her gaze on his stirred his blood. In a massive way.
The wind blew and more snow fell. His stomach rolled at realization of what he stared at right this moment. The plane that had almost been his tomb.
“Looking to see if there was anything you could wear.” Her eyes moved over him once more, heating his blood further. She scowled. “What are you doing?”
He thrust his hand up toward his hair, only to pause at the sight of the thick mitten protecting his fingers—one part of his body that didn’t feel like it was rapidly losing heat.
“Looking for you. It’s not like you were there when I woke up.”
She gestured in his direction, looking put out and worried. “So, logically you thought you should go out in the bitter cold with very little protection? Are you seeking frostbite?” Iris stomped to him, where she reached out and grasped the sweatshirt before dragging him inside the belly of the jet. “You’re barely dressed for this and were damn lucky you didn’t get it last time.”
Okay, she made sense, but damn it, this was his time to be upset and angry that she had simply vanished. And he hated how right she was. His body hurt, his cheeks stung and his feet were fucking freezing.
“Get out of the wind,” she barked, shaking her head.
“Why are you back here?”
“I told you.”
She walked away and he followed, realizing how sharp that wind was. Even out of it this much was an incredible relief for him as he allowed himself to get a break and be able to breathe more easily, without feeling like he was sacrificing his lungs with each inhalation.
Bradford watched Iris maneuver nimbly over the seats as she took her time, looking as she moved aft.
“You shouldn’t be climbing over all of this. It’s wreckage, you know.”
“I realize I’m not what you may think of as a capable woman, but I know how to take care of myself.” The edge had returned to her voice. The cold there lacing her words was balmy equatorial weather compared to what surrounded them here.
“That’s not what I meant.”
He followed her. She’d gone into the bedroom in the rear once she’d wedged the door open, and he saw what she meant. The blankets on the overturned bed there would come in handy. Sticking out from an upper compartment was the edge of a black bag.
Without a word, she pointed to the bedding and faced the bag before reaching up to tug on it. Bradford froze, his mittened hands on the champagne-colored bedspread as he stared at her.
Lust slapped him harder than the bite of the cold weather. Christ, was there something wrong with him? He shouldn’t be thinking about the fastest way to strip this woman of her clothing. At least, not every fucking time he looked at her.
Yet here we are.
It didn’t matter she was dressed in layers, which added padding to her curves. All he knew was last night had been a blend of hell and, well, more hell with a peek of heaven.
It felt wrong to dig around but she was right, he had to find something a bit more to put on. She grunted as she tugged again, and his heart leaped up in his throat when she stumbled back. Iris steadied herself quickly and he breathed a bit easier when she turned toward him with it in her hand.
She didn’t move closer to him but balanced the black bag on the other end of the overturned bed. He watched her as she unzipped and opened the bag. Her eyebrows went up.
“What?”
“I found,” she said, her lips twitching before she regained control, “some clothing for you. Polar fleece.”
“Then why do you look like you’re trying not to laugh?”
“Let’s just say I’m curious as to who this had belonged to.” She zipped it closed and draped the strap over her shoulder. “We need to get back. This weather is going to get ugly. Fast.”
Iris was in front of him seconds later. He dipped his head to look in her eyes. They weren’t simply brown. Flecks of gold and green dotted them as he stared deep.
“I’m ready.”
And he was. Ready. To kiss her. To make love to her. To fuck her and have her screaming out his name.
“I’d say wrap up in the blankets but that may actually slow you down. One around your shoulders should be helpful. I’ll carry the rest.”
He snarled. “I can carry them. You have the bag.”
“And I’m better equipped to be out in this. We’re going to need to move fast and get you inside by the fire. We’re not arguing about this. You’re not only improperly attired to be out here but you’re still recovering. We can do it later, and you can read me a riot act on how men are supposed to do more, blah blah shit or whatever. Right now, we need to move.”
He was exhausted and wouldn’t argue being back where it was warm. With a nod of surrender, he handed over three of the blankets and wrapped himself up in the fourth. Before they exited the plane, he watched her bend over and check the feet of her canine. He wasn’t sure what she looked for, but the dog didn’t seem bothered by the attention.
I wouldn’t be either.
Bradford admitted it. He had it bad for this woman. He couldn’t explain why or what it was about her that created this need, urge or desire for her, but he didn’t care. He wanted her and he always got what he wanted.
Outside the snow fell much more heavily, and he flexed his toes in his dress shoes—definitely not proper ones to be wearing out in this kind of weather. This was going to suck.
“Let’s go.”
She went a different way than he’d been expecting. Not up the incline he’d come down, but toward the cave he’d been holed up in.
“Why are we going this way?” He tightened his grip on the blanket around him, thankful for the added warmth and protection, no matter how little it was.
“I don’t think your shoes will let you up that way. I struggled with my boots and they have proper tread.”
She didn’t even slow as she shouted to him. The snow and wind whipped up more around them, and he squinted against the stinging pellets. He kept close to her, the dog in front.
Bradford admired her poise and confidence out here. Hell, he was turned around already and he couldn’t see the plane parts anymore when he looked back.
His teeth chattered so hard by the time they were once again at the house, he wasn’t sure he would have any left after this. Everything hurt.
Iris herded him inside and to their room and he heard her slight sigh of relief when they stepped in and found the ceiling hadn’t fallen in on this part.
“By the fire with you,” she ordered, dropping the bag near the wood and immediately picking up a few more logs.
He obeyed and shivered as she knelt by his leg and added the pieces. Again on her feet, she nudged him closer. “Lose the blanket, it’s wet. You need to get out of your wet clothing.”
“Words I’ve longed to hear from you.”
“Good, start stripping.”
She wouldn’t look at him, but instead walked to the bag she’d dragged with her.
“I think this will fit you. I know you’re not going to be happy wearing it, but right now, I don’t think you have a choice. It’s fleece and it’s dry, so you’ll be warm soon and your clothing can dry out by the fire.”
He took the bag from her. She still wouldn’t meet his gaze. What the fuck was in there?
“I’ll go get some hot drinks.” Iris poked the leather bag. “You get changed.” She left.
Ran would be a far more apt description.
Putting the blanket over a chair near the fire, he unzipped the bag and released a litany of curses.
Was she fucking kidding? No way in the nine hells would he wear this.
Chapter Five
After heating water on her camp stove, Iris made them each a piping hot drink. Another cream of chicken soup, a bit of sustenance and warmth all wrapped up in one. She put two in a larger cup for Bradford and took one for herself. She would have been taking two personally on a normal day, but she had to be much more cautious with the food. She’d planned for a while, yes, but for one. Not for two.
Especially not with one of us being a goddamn Viking. No matter how hot said Viking was. None of it mattered, she had to think smart. Which meant not with those diabolical and traitorous ovaries who had been far too vocal since she’d first laid eyes on Bradford.
Once the stove had been turned off, she picked up the drinks and walked back through the cold to the room which thankfully was still holding heat well. She carefully opened the door and stepped inside.
Bradford stood by the fire, the bag at his feet. Still in his wet clothing.
