Safe by His Side. Debra Webb

woman drew back a step at his brusque tone. “I’m…I had an accident,” she stammered.

      “Accident? Let’s see some ID,” he demanded. He would never understand why anyone would be out on a crappy morning like this. In the mountains, days like these weren’t fit for man or beast. And whoever his visitor was, she certainly didn’t fit either category. She didn’t even have on a coat. “Where the hell’s your coat?”

      “What?” The woman stared up at him as if his question made no sense at all.

      For the first time, Raine noted the dazed look in her dark eyes. Her arms were wrapped around her waist, and she swayed slightly before she caught herself. With one trembling hand she pushed long, dark strands of hair from her face. Rivulets of water slid down her pale cheeks. A blast of cold November wind whipped across the deck. She shivered. And damned if her teeth didn’t chatter as well.

      Raine swore under his breath and yanked her inside. This was the last thing he needed. He slammed the door and stared down at the trembling female with complete irritation and utter distrust. She was dripping wet from head to toe.

      “I—I just need to use your phone,” she said weakly. Her frail attempt to free herself from his grasp only served to send her swaying backward. When he steadied her, she almost wilted in his arms.

      “Whoa,” Raine said, concerned. “You need to get out of those wet clothes and warmed up before you do anything else.”

      “The phone…I just need to use the phone,” she whispered before she closed her eyes and sagged against his chest.

      Instantly he felt the wet and cold invade the warmth of his dry clothes. Raine blew out a breath of frustration and did the only thing he could—he picked her up and carried her to the bathroom. He had to get this lady warmed up fast. As cold as she was, shock and hypothermia represented definite threats. Concern overrode his usual self-preservation instincts.

      He settled her on the closed lid of the toilet and watched for a moment to ensure that she wasn’t going to fall over. She shivered uncontrollably. He crouched in front of her and removed her hiking boots and rolled off her socks. She sat there, seemingly unaware of his movements.

      Raine opened the shower door and twisted the hot-water valve to wide open. Once the water was steaming, he adjusted it to a bearable but still plenty hot temperature.

      “Okay, lady, let’s see if we can’t get your body temperature headed in the right direction,” he muttered more to himself than to her. If she heard him, she didn’t react.

      Raine pulled the dazed woman to a standing position and then helped her into the shower. When the hot water hit her she gasped, shuddered violently and sagged against the translucent glass wall. Before Raine could catch her, she slumped to the tile floor, the water spraying directly on her face.

      “Damn,” he growled. He reached inside and tried to pull her to her feet, she only whimpered and huddled more deeply into a fetal position. Muttering expletives, Raine stepped into the cubicle and pulled her to her feet, then wished to hell he had turned off the water first. Too late now. Besides, she needed the heat a lot more than he needed comfort.

      “You have to get out of these clothes,” he told her. Liquid heat pelted his skin through his flannel shirt.

      She lifted her hands to her blouse and worked on a button, her movements stiff and awkward. Raine swore under his breath. At this rate, she’d never get her clothes off. Raising her body temperature was top priority. He had hoped to allow her some privacy during the process. But if she couldn’t do it, he’d just have to do it for her.

      What the hell? He’d undressed plenty of women in the past. He pushed her hands away and deftly began to release the remaining buttons.

      She jerked back and stared up at him. He could see that it took her a while to bring him into focus. “What are you doing?” she asked weakly and clutched at his hands. Her pupils were unevenly dilated.

      He cursed through clenched teeth.

      Concussion.

      She had a damn concussion. Why hadn’t he noticed that before? He knew the signs. Her left temple was bruised. Gingerly he touched the discolored spot. She winced and drew away but not before he felt the size of the lump that had formed there.

      “We need to take the rest of your clothes off. We have to get you warm and into something dry,” he said as he resumed the unbuttoning process. To his relief, her hands fell away and she made no further protest.

      “Thank you,” she said softly, her breath whispering across his downturned face.

      Raine tightened his jaw. He wouldn’t say she was welcome—because she wasn’t. He didn’t want her here…didn’t need her here. But he couldn’t just let her die out in the cold any more than he could neglect an injured animal. He looked at the woman silently watching his fingers undo the final button of her blouse and wondered if he was making a big mistake.

      He peeled the wet blouse down her arms and pitched it to the bathroom floor. Steam billowed around them and sweat beaded on his forehead as he reached for the hem of her undershirt. She automatically lifted her arms and closed her eyes. When he pulled the undershirt over her shoulders and then her head, he tensed. The scrap of cotton slipped from his fingers and joined her blouse on the wet tile floor.

      Raine’s gaze riveted to her naked breasts. Not particularly large breasts, but they were nicely rounded and the rosy tips tilted slightly upward. He had the sudden, insane urge to draw one into his mouth and taste it.

      She shivered and he forced his gaze back to her face only to find her watching him from beneath half-closed lids. Her lips parted and for one instant Raine allowed himself to want her, but then she whispered, “I’m so cold.”

      Raine turned his back and silently cursed himself for the bastard he was. “You can do the rest,” he said harshly. Surely she could get her jeans off. Hell, she probably could have gotten the blouse off if he’d given her time. Perverted SOB, he cursed himself once more.

      What the hell had gotten into him? It hadn’t been that long since he’d had a woman. Ogling an injured female was about as low as a man could go. A muscle in his tense jaw jumped when he heard her small sounds of frustration and fatigue as she struggled with the wet jeans. Raine clenched his fists and ignored the urge to turn around and look at her. The spray of hot water on his chest did nothing to calm his mounting tension or the hard-on he had acquired in the last sixty seconds.

      He flinched when she touched his rigid shoulder. “I can’t do it,” she said wearily.

      Raine licked his lips and swallowed tightly. This was damn ridiculous. He’d seen more than his share of naked women, what the hell was the big deal with this one?

      He turned around slowly and met her pleading gaze with an annoyed glare.

      “I’m sorry,” she managed to say weakly before collapsing against the shower wall.

      Raine set his jaw so hard he thought his teeth would crack. He grasped the waistband on either side of her slender hips and tried without success to peel the material down as he’d done with the blouse, but the tight-fitting jeans wouldn’t cooperate. He sucked in a deep breath and did what he knew he had to. Raine pushed his hands inside and worked the material, panties included, down over her icy skin.

      She was lucky to be alive. The last time he’d touched skin this cold, it had belonged to a dead man.

      As chilled as her body was, his was getting more heated by the moment. His groin tightened painfully when his hands moved over the swell of her hips and glided down several inches of thigh. He straightened, held her firmly by the waist, placed his bare foot between her legs and pushed the jeans and skimpy panties down to her ankles. He immediately averted his gaze from the triangle of dark curls between her thighs.

      He almost groaned. He’d been in these woods longer than he’d realized.

      She braced both hands