She’d worried about being able to fall asleep with Henry, but it turned out that wasn’t a problem. Waking up…now that was a problem.
It was her own fault. For some reason, her unconscious self thought it would be a fantastic idea to wrap herself around him like a four-armed octopus clinging to a treasured toy. More of her was stretched on top of Henry than was on the bed. Her head was using his chest as a pillow, and she’d even grabbed a handful of his T-shirt and was clutching it in her fist. She kept her eyes closed for a moment, not wanting to move. She hadn’t felt so comfortable and safe in…well, ever.
When she finally allowed her eyes to open, she blinked as she adjusted to the thin early-morning light. Most of what she saw in front of her was his borrowed shirt, stretched too tightly over his endless expanse of chest. Luckily, she didn’t see any sign that she’d drooled. Worried that he’d wake up and see how she was clinging to him, she decided to just peel herself away from him as quickly as possible, like pulling off a body-size Band-Aid.
The problem was that she didn’t really want to move. Her spot on top of Henry and under the covers was lovely and warm, and the air stinging the tops of her ears had a cruelly cold edge to it. She knew the floor would be icy against her bare feet, too. It didn’t help to know that this would most likely be the last time she was warm and comfortable that day, since it’d be filled with hiking and fording rivers and dodging bullets and probably more hand grenades when Abbott caught up to them.
Her body tensed, so she pushed thoughts of Abbott away. If these were the last comfortable moments for her, then she was going to enjoy every one. She relaxed against Kavenski for a few indulgent minutes. Without lifting her head, she couldn’t see whether he was awake or not.
He was still on his back, unmoving except for the rise and fall of his chest under her cheek. One of his arms was draped over her waist. Although he wasn’t holding on to her, she doubted she’d be able to slip off him without waking him—not with his ninja reflexes. That was another good reason for her to stay exactly where she was.
Not knowing whether he was awake or not was making her aware of every tiny motion she made. Even breathing took on an intensity with her chest pressed against him. Overly conscious of all the places where they touched, she found herself holding her body completely still.
Quit being ridiculous, she scolded herself. Bracing her hands, Cara pushed off his chest enough that she could look at his face.
He was wide awake, watching her.
Of course he was. Although she knew he couldn’t stay awake all the time, she couldn’t imagine him ever sleeping. Being unconscious would make him too vulnerable.
Their eyes locked, and her good morning evaporated along with every thought in her head. All she could focus on was the obvious desire that filled his normally stony expression. All that intensity, all that desperate hunger was for her—boring, cautious, lackluster bounty hunter and wannabe kindergarten teacher Cara.
He wanted her.
Without even realizing what she was doing, she lowered her head toward his, drawn in like iron to a magnet. She stopped when their lips were only a breath apart, never breaking their connected gaze.
What are you doing? a tiny, practical part of her screamed—the part that usually ran her life in an ordered and measured way. For once, she ignored it. She knew that this was dumb. It was foolhardy to involve herself any more with Henry Kavenski, who’d already swept her up into his personal tornado of trouble. Because of him, she’d been kidnapped, almost shot, almost blown to bits, driven off a cliff, and dragged through a blizzard wearing sleeves on her feet. A smart person would try to get far away from Henry as fast as she could. A smart person wouldn’t be a fraction of an inch away from kissing him. A smart person wouldn’t like him so darn much.
“Guess I’m not that smart,” she whispered, making Henry’s mouth quirk slightly.
“I disagree. You’re too smart to get involved with me,” he said, as if every one of her thoughts had flashed across her forehead like a digital sign.
“Guess I’m an idiot, then.” Without allowing herself to think of all the reasons she shouldn’t be doing this, she closed the tiny gap between their mouths and pressed her lips to his.
As if he’d been waiting for her to take that final step that tipped them over the edge, he burrowed his fingers through her sleep-mussed hair and pressed down on the back of her head, sealing their mouths more closely together. Their kiss went from a gentle press of lips to a wild ravaging of mouths in less than a second, as if that initial contact was the spark igniting the banked heat that had been smoldering between them since their kiss the previous night.
Exhilaration rushed through her, lighting her up from the inside, and she knew this had been inevitable since the moment she first opened his file. It made no sense to get involved with this bail jumper who’d brought truckloads of trouble down on her, but it was too late for second thoughts. She’d driven right off that cliff with him. She was involved.
Without breaking the kiss, he rolled them both over so she was beneath him, being pressed into the mattress by his heavy form. It was her turn to wrap her arms around him, one hand cupping the back of his skull while the other clutched at the muscles of his unyielding shoulders. It wasn’t until he released her mouth to explore the line of her jaw that Cara was able to suck in a harsh breath, but breathing wasn’t that important a concern right now, not when Henry was teasing a sensitive spot right below her ear with just the slightest nip of his teeth.
Her fingers dug into his back, and she made a frustrated sound when the fabric of his shirt prevented her from touching his skin. She yanked at the T-shirt, trying to tug it up and off his body, but their closeness prevented her from removing it. He pushed himself up enough for her to drag it over his head, and then he finished pulling it off his arms before tossing it away.
The faint dawn light illuminated the hard surface of his bare, lightly furred chest, and she pushed at his shoulder until he was on his back and she was once again on top. Straddling his waist, she sat up so she could fully explore the skin that had just been revealed. As frantic and intense as their kiss had been, she felt as if she’d been waiting a long time to be able to touch him freely, and she wasn’t about to rush the experience.
From his agonized groan when she traced the muscled lines of his chest, Henry was very willing to rush things.
“Patience is a virtue,” she teased, flicking one of his nipples with the edge of her short fingernail.
His abs jumped, and his moan turned to a growl. “I’ve been patient.” Grabbing the bottom of her shirt, he yanked it up, and she willingly raised her arms so he could pull it off. “I’ve wanted to do this since I first spotted you tailing me. I’ve been plenty patient.”
With that, their positions were reversed again, and his stubbly cheek brushed the underside of her chin as he nibbled down the side of her neck. The influx of sensations made goose bumps rise under his touch, and she shivered as he worked his way to the top of her chest. She ran her fingers through his hair, clutching the strands convulsively when he finally drew her nipple into his hot mouth.
Releasing it, he blew out a breath that made her gasp as the hot air hit her breast. “You’re even more beautiful than I imagined you’d be.” He made his way down to her belly, and she couldn’t believe that she’d just chided him about a lack of patience when she was about to scream if he kept up his torturously slow pace. Her stomach muscles twitched and flinched under the dual sensations of his smooth tongue and lips and the rasp of his stubbly jaw against her skin.
“You imagined me?” she managed to say, not caring that it didn’t make much sense. She was so lost to everything she was feeling that she was impressed she was able to get a few coherent words out.
He pressed his rough cheek to her lower belly and groaned, the sound vibrating through her. “All the time. Thoughts of you kept me awake at night.”
“Like a nightmare?” Her laugh turned into a hiccupping gasp as he yanked her borrowed pants down her hips.
“You do haunt me,” he admitted, although his low chuckle took any sting out of his words. Then he was sliding down her pants, pulling them off her ankles and tossing them in the same direction that their shirts had gone. His mouth followed a path up her calf to her inner thighs and then higher, and she lost any hold she’d had on the thread of their conversation.
His mouth and fingers brought her to the edge, erasing everything from her mind except the feel of him. She called his name as she reached for him, wanting him over her, inside her, as close as they could possibly be, but he resisted her insistent tugs on his hair. Instead, he continued touching and kissing her, seeming to know exactly how much pressure in just the right spot would drive her absolutely wild. Her back arched as the sensations drew her muscles tighter and tighter until her pleasure peaked. As her climax rushed through her, intensifying with every puff of his breath on her damp skin, she clung to him, needing to anchor herself. He allowed her grip as he rested his scratchy cheek on her belly.
As the pleasure ebbed, leaving behind a warm, pleasant lassitude, she ran her fingers through his hair and let her breathing return to normal. She felt him sigh, the rush of his breath hot against her skin, before he eased away from her and sat up.
“What about you?” she asked, pushing up onto her elbows so she could see him.
“No condoms,” he said with a rueful grimace, and she blinked, startled by the fact that she’d completely forgotten about the need for protection.
“Right,” she said, feeling a little flustered by how open his expression was, such a change from her normally reserved rescuer. “Too bad the cabin owners didn’t provide them along with the toothbrushes and board games.”
The corner of his mouth twitched upward as his eyes glinted with humor, and Cara felt a rush of affection. The Henry who’d just given her the most amazing orgasm of her life was the same guy who hadn’t flinched as he drove them off the cliff. There were so many facets to the man in front of her, and she wanted to know them all.
Just staring at him was rekindling the heat inside her. “It’s safe—pregnancy-wise, I mean. And otherwise, at least in my case.” She waved a hand at her body, even as she mentally sighed at her not-very-smooth delivery. “If you’re okay…?”
“I’m clear.” As if her words had flipped a switch, his need for her was burning in his eyes. “You’re sure? Even though I’ve brought you nothing but trouble?”
“There’s nothing I want more,” she said completely honestly. Then a grin tugged at her mouth. “And you haven’t just brought me trouble. You also brought me an orgasm. Any chance of repeating that?”
With a laughing growl that only Henry could pull off, he dove for her, flattening her to the bed in a way that reminded her of their play-wrestling the night before. Instead of tickling her, though, he kissed her everywhere, making her sigh and moan instead of laugh. The tension built inside her again, heat and pleasure rising until she was frantic for him.
She urged his face back to hers, needing him too badly for his light caresses. When she kissed him, his intensity matched hers. All teasing disappeared, leaving only raw hunger. She clutched his shoulders, digging her fingertips into the unyielding muscles of his upper back, trying to pull him impossibly close. Any space between them was too much.
When he slid into her, it was perfect, as if they were made to fit together. Her legs wrapped around his hips, pulling him even more tightly against her, and he groaned his pleasure against her mouth. All her worries fell away, and she didn’t think about all that was wrong with being with Henry. Her entire being was focused on what was truly, incredibly right.
The feel of him, inside her body and out, was simultaneously stimulating and comforting, and she felt at that moment that she could spend the rest of her life connected to him. She’d never felt like this with anyone else, not even a hint of the almost desperate connection that attraction and danger and proximity had caused.
He rocked into her again, and she arched, pleasure tightening her muscles and heating her skin. Her hands swept down his back, needing to feel as much of him as she could reach before he drove into her again. She clutched his shoulders, loving how broad and heavy and safe he felt, as if he were a wall protecting her from the rest of the world.
His hips picked up speed, and she lost herself to the incredible sensations building and growing until it felt like her skin couldn’t contain that much pleasure. As she tipped over into another orgasm, she gasped his name, and his movements grew wilder, as if his ever-so-tight control had finally snapped.
Even as she rode her climax, she opened her eyes to watch him come, not wanting to miss the moment when his impassive mask melted away completely, leaving only pleasure so intense it was almost painful to see.
They rested together, chests heaving against each other as they caught their breath. Even as limp and wrung out as she was, Cara couldn’t stop touching him, running her fingertips over his corded wrist. As her breathing eased and her skin started to cool, Henry gathered her against him in a hug so encompassing and careful that her heart filled with affection and something even stronger. Unable to resist, she pressed her lips to his, trying to convey without words how tender and strong her feelings for him were. He kissed her back with gentle ferocity, their eyes meeting when they finally shifted away.
“I hate to say it…” His voice was rough.
“We need to go.” She finished what she knew he was going to say. “I know. Our timing sucks.”
A smile flickered over his face and then disappeared. Although his impassive mask descended, this time it was different. She could still see the lingering warmth in his gaze as she reluctantly climbed out of bed. The floor was freezing on her bare feet, shocking her back to reality as she hurried over to the dresser. The previous evening, she’d thought that wearing someone else’s used socks was weird—even if they had been washed. This morning, she didn’t care about that. All she wanted was a barrier between the icy floor and her toes. Teetering on one foot and then the other, she yanked on a pair of thick woolen socks.
“Wear layers today.” Henry’s voice was closer than she’d expected, making her jump and almost lose her balance. Placing her now-stockinged foot back on the floor, she nodded, but he was facing away from her, stretching. His corded arms reached up toward the ceiling as the muscles in his back stood out in defined relief. Cara suddenly found her mouth was dry, but she was unable to pull her gaze off him. He glanced over his shoulder, probably because he was still waiting for a verbal reply.
“Right,” she hurried to say, dragging her gaze back to the open drawer. She couldn’t keep watching him without wanting an immediate repeat of what they’d just done, but Abbott wouldn’t wait for them to leave their cabin love-nest. She needed to get her head back in the game and be sensible. “Layers.”
When she looked at him again, he was already halfway down the spiral stairs, with just his head and shoulders showing. “What time do you think it is?” She hated the feeling of not knowing, of not being able to just glance at her phone and see the numbers. Once they managed to get back to Langston, she vowed to never take her phone for granted again—and to never put it down. If she had to hang it around her neck on a chain, that’s what she’d do. If she’d picked up her phone before answering the door the night she was kidnapped, everything would’ve turned out differently.
“About six.” He continued down the stairs, and Cara watched him, infatuated by the graceful way he moved and the heat and tenderness in his eyes when they landed on her. She waited for the top of his head to disappear before she shook herself out of her Henry haze and threw on a T-shirt. She slipped down the stairs after him and headed to the bathroom to clean up. Once she finished and opened the door, she immediately searched him out where he stood in the kitchen, his gaze locked on her. Even though she knew she was being ridiculous, she couldn’t tear her eyes away until she climbed the stairs again and he disappeared from view.
Without the distraction of watching Henry, the cold air of the loft was much more noticeable, so she started adding layers. When she had on so many clothes that she felt like a well-stuffed sausage, she stripped the sheets off the bed and carried them downstairs. Henry was in front of the woodstove, messing with something in a pan.
“That smells good,” she said as she headed to the bathroom, determined to act normal. The only response she got was a distracted grunt, which oddly made her smile. It was just so Henry. At the thought, she mentally caught herself. Don’t think that you know him, her practical side warned. Twenty-four hours on the run and one night in bed together are not a relationship. Even as stupid as she knew she was being, she couldn’t help but feel connected to him.
Dropping the sheets on the floor, she was hit by a pang of guilt at the sight of their dirty laundry, and she wished there was a washer in the cabin. The thought made her give an amused snort. “Bathroom’s not enough for you now?” she asked herself under her breath. “Getting a little greedy, aren’t you?”
“What?” Henry asked, glancing over his shoulder before quickly returning his attention to the pan.
“Nothing. Just telling my inner princess to chill.” He gave her another look, but she just smiled and shrugged. “I wish we didn’t have to leave the very nice cabin owners a pile of dirty laundry.”
His own shrug wasn’t at all concerned. “The cash’ll make it all better.” Wrapping a dish towel around the handle of the pan, he carried it to the kitchen counter where two plates were waiting. He dumped a huge pancake onto one of the plates. “Here. Eat.”
She watched him return to the woodstove with the pan and a bowl of batter before turning to the beautifully browned pancake that covered the plate. “Did you actually cook on that thing? I’m impressed. I mean, heating soup is one thing, but how’d you even regulate the temperature to not char the outside and leave the inside raw?” There was a bottle of syrup—the fake, sugary kind that had a reassuring amount of preservatives in it—on the counter, and she spread it liberally over the pancake. Using a fork, she cut out a bite-size piece, realizing that she might have spoken too soon about the insides not being raw, but it was cooked and fluffy and perfect all the way through.
“Dumb luck,” he said, making her laugh. She pressed her fist to her mouth to keep from sending chewed bits of pancake flying across the counter.
“Well, your luck is on point today,” she said once she’d swallowed. “Which is a good thing, considering our situation.” The reminder made her stomach lurch, but she ignored her worries and shoved another bite of pancake in her mouth. She’d need all the fuel she could get before they headed out.
He made a sound she took as agreement as he worked a spatula underneath the half-cooked pancake currently in the pan and flipped it with a competence she found strangely attractive. Shoving another bite in her mouth, she poured them each a glass of water as she glanced around the kitchen.
“I don’t suppose you found any coffee?” she asked hopefully. When he shook his head, she sighed and took a long drink of water. “Oh well. That’s just my needy princess side again.”
Since he was turning toward her, pan in hand, she saw the quick flash of his smile. He dumped the newly cooked pancake onto his plate and left the pan on one of the kitchen stove burners to cool. They finished their meal in silence, although it was surprisingly comfortable. After the kiss and the bed-sharing and the unconscious cuddling and then the very conscious and intense sex, she’d expected more awkwardness, but it was as if they’d settled into their own weird routine, in which they cooked and ate and ran from kidnappers and sometimes kissed and did…other things.
The memory of that moment—well, several long moments—in bed with his head between her legs made her cheeks heat, and she ducked her face to hide it, concentrating on her last bite of pancake.
“Something wrong?” he asked, because of course he noticed the exact thing that she wished he wouldn’t see.
“No.” She grimaced when the word came out too quickly to be believable. “Except for, you know, everything outside this cabin.” Waving her empty fork in a circle above her head, she indicated the mountains around them. As beautiful as the wilderness was, she couldn’t forget that they were being pursued by potentially murderous thugs.
As if he’d needed the reminder as well, his mouth hardened, and he reached toward her empty plate.
“Nope.” She snatched up her plate before he could take it and then reached for his, catching it at the same time he did. They both held on in a polite sort of tug-of-war. “You cooked, so I clean up.” When he didn’t yield, she gave a little tug and added, “Besides, you’ll know better than I do what would be useful to bring with us.”
At that, he released the plate, and she took the dishes to the sink. As she washed, he prowled the cabin, creating a pile of supplies on the table. Steam rose from the hot water filling the sink as Cara scrubbed a plate and watched him dig through the closet by the front door. She couldn’t seem to get enough of watching him, and she was pretty sure the feeling was mutual, judging by the way his gaze kept returning to her. The scene felt strangely cozy, and she hurried to say something to break the too-comfortable silence before she was overwhelmed with warm and ill-timed thoughts.
“I don’t suppose there’s a backpack somewhere in here?” She refocused on the sink so she could rinse the plate without dropping it. “That’d be useful to carry all of the supplies.”
“Not really.” There was an odd note in his voice that made her turn to look at him. Henry held up a dark-green pack by one strap.
“What is that?” Cara felt her eyebrows draw together as she turned her head to the side to get a better look. When she realized what he was holding, she started to laugh. “A fanny pack?”
Making a wordless sound that managed to convey all of his disgust, he returned it to the closet.
“Oh no,” she said, still trying to control her amusement. “You need to wear that. I need to be the only person in the universe who has seen wild and dangerous Henry Kavenski wearing a fanny pack.” Just saying the words made her crack up again.
“No. My pockets will hold more than that thing.” The gleam in his eyes made Cara stop laughing. She didn’t trust that wicked look of his. “You should wear it.”
“Nope.” She held up her wet, soapy hands as if to ward off the pack. “You know I’m already going to be the anchor around your albatross’s neck. You don’t want to be weighing me down any more.”
He blinked, still looking more amused than she felt comfortable with. “Anchor around my albatross? I don’t think that’s the saying.”
Waving a hand in dismissal, she turned back to the sink and drained the water. “The albatross thing never made any sense to me. They’re birds. They can fly. Why would they hold you back? An anchor, now, that makes sense. That would definitely slow a bird down.”
She heard his snort behind her but focused on wiping the cast-iron pan. When that was done, she cleaned the rest of the kitchen and then moved to scrubbing the bathroom. By the time she came out, Henry had extinguished the fire in the woodstove and was sweeping the floors. The pile of supplies was gone except for their two water bottles, but the fanny pack was nowhere in sight, so Cara assumed that he’d managed to get everything to fit in his pockets after all.
“Put those on,” he said, pointing toward a pile of clothes next to the closet.
“I don’t know if I’ll be able to move if I add even one more layer.” Despite her words, she stepped into the bright-pink insulated coveralls. They were slightly long and baggy on her, but, like all of the other clothes she’d borrowed—well, taken—they’d work until she had access to her own closet again. The boots were especially welcome after her trek in Henry’s coat sleeves the day before.
“Will these fit in your pockets?” he asked, holding out the water bottles. She tried, skeptical that they’d be deep enough. To her surprise, the bottles slid right in, with only the caps poking out of her side pockets. She pulled on a hat and gloves that he’d set out for her, and then waited for him to do a final sweep of the cabin. In all her heavy layers, she was warm enough that sweat made her scalp prickle. When he placed some bills on the counter, she pulled off her gloves and hurried over to write a quick note on a paper towel with a pen she’d found in a catch-all drawer. She hesitated, trying to think of what information to reveal and what to keep hidden. Finally, she decided to just keep it short and sweet.
Thank you, cabin owners! Your place saved our lives during a snowstorm.
Best wishes from two lost hikers
As she set the note by the cash, she noticed that the bills were all large and there were several of them. It would more than cover the clothes, food, and other items they’d taken, with enough left over to have the place professionally cleaned. She slid a sideways look at Henry as he pulled on a pair of borrowed gloves, torn between approving his generosity and suspicion about why he was carrying so much cash and how he’d gotten it.
“Is that money from the envelope of cash Layla gave you at the bus stop?”
His head whipped around as he fixed her with a sharp stare. “How’d you know she gave me cash?”
Cara couldn’t keep her smugness from showing. “I didn’t…until now.”
The corner of his mouth twitched, but she didn’t know if it was from irritation or amusement. “No, that money isn’t from Layla.” He waved her toward the door, his expression set in a way that made it clear she wasn’t going to get any more information out of him. Making a mental vow to press him for more details later, she hurried out of the cabin.
As she stepped outside, Cara turned and gave the interior a final glance. As much as the first cabin had been a place of budding nightmares, this one had been a welcoming safe haven, the place where she and Henry had kissed for the first time. It had given them an escape from the storm, and she knew she’d always remember it fondly, as she would a treasured vacation spot. Knowing what dangers lurked outside its walls, she was sorry to leave the cozy little place. She’d definitely miss the bathroom.
Henry shifted his weight, and she took the hint, closing the locked cabin door behind them just as the sharp crack of a gunshot echoed through the trees.