Название | Sexy, Single And Searching |
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Автор произведения | Lori Wilde |
Жанр | Короткие любовные романы |
Серия | Mills & Boon Silhouette |
Издательство | Короткие любовные романы |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781474027489 |
“And it’s left to us women to pick up the pieces.”
No response came from the unconscious stranger.
She leaned over to undo his belt. The jeans had to come off. Shannon pulled and tugged at them, but the muddy material clung to the man’s muscular thighs. She fought with the stubborn denim, struggling inch by inch to push it down his legs. “Come on, big guy, help me out here.”
Finally victorious, she tossed the jeans aside, then turned back. The sight of his white briefs made nearly transparent from the damp, had her drawing a sharp breath.
She’d been with one man in her life. She’d only seen one man naked in her life. She averted her gaze, feeling as if she’d invaded the man’s privacy.
He shivered violently, and Shannon realized her shyness was not only immature, but possibly dangerous to the man’s health. What did privacy matter to a person who was injured and cold?
Feeling a little unnerved anyway, she stripped off the briefs. She kept her gaze on his face as she draped a bath towel over his hips.
Glad to have the task completed, Shannon took a few minutes to wash the dirt and blood off his long muscular legs. She treated and bandaged the cuts on his knees, wishing there was something she could do to ease the painful-looking bruises, too. The more she saw of him, the more she realized what an ordeal he must have been through.
She moved up to sit beside him. She didn’t want to hurt him, but she had to see how his arm was under the jacket. She started on his left side, moving the sleeve down his arm slowly. In spite of her care, he moaned. He pushed weakly at her, trying to fight her off.
“Don’t! Leave me alone!” His eyes remained closed. He seemed to be in the middle of a nightmare. “Have to find Brandon. Have to find Brandon.”
“I don’t know who Brandon is, big guy, but you’re not going anywhere.”
His eyes opened suddenly, pale blue and feverish in his dark face. “Who are you?”
She smiled, relieved he was awake. “Shannon. How about you?”
He eyed her suspiciously. “What am I doing here?” He sat up gingerly. “Where are my pants?” He tried to stand, causing the towel to drop to the floor, leaving him bare from the waist down. He swayed and dropped back onto the couch, clutching his head with his good arm. “God, my head hurts like hell.”
Cheeks flushed, Shannon replaced the towel, then took an instant-ice pack out of the first-aid kit and handed it to him. “Here, hold this on that bump. It looks like you took quite a knock. It’s possible you have a concussion.”
The man did as he was told, evidently realizing he wasn’t in any shape to argue. “There was a landslide. The last thing I remember was a rock or something hitting me in the head.” He took the ice off his head and looked at her. “How’d I get here?”
Shannon reached over and guided the hand with the pack back to his head. “Keep that there.” His big hand was warm, but not feverish. Feeling a little tingle from the contact, she drew her fingers from his. “I have no idea how you got here. I found you collapsed on my porch not long after the electricity went out.”
He nodded, winced, then laid his head against the back of the sofa and closed his eyes.
Shannon could see he was hurting, but she didn’t want him falling asleep again. She knew the first twenty-four hours in a concussion were crucial. She had to keep him talking. What’s more, she had to find out who he was. “What’s your name?”
“My name?” His voice slurred. “What’s my name?”
He sounded as if he was about to doze off. “You said something about a landslide?” she asked.
She heard the trace of suspicion in her own voice. Caleb opened his eyes, and she realized he’d heard it, too. “The ground started to shake,” he told her. “I looked up and it seemed like the whole mountain was coming down on me. I tried to run for cover. The next thing I knew, I was hit and everything went black.”
“Do you know how long you were out?”
He looked at his watch, and she saw that the crystal was cracked. The time had stopped at three o’clock.
“What time is it now?” he asked.
“About seven.” Four hours, she thought, a long time to be wandering around in a storm. “Do you know how far you walked?”
Caleb tried to come up with an answer to her question, but cold seemed to seep through to his bones, making him shiver. He dropped the ice pack and wrapped his arms around his chest, but the dampness of his shirt and jacket only made his trembling worse.
Shannon placed the ice pack on the coffee table. “We’ll figure it out later. We’ve got to get the rest of your wet clothes off.”
Caleb looked at her. She was a beautiful woman. Tall, with feminine curves, tawny-gold hair and skin like satin. Her eyes were shadowed, full of secrets, the color indistinguishable in the flickering light. He’d certainly never expected to find an angel in the midst of hell, but it appeared that was exactly what he’d done. If circumstances had been different, he would have enjoyed hanging around for a while.
But his partner was out there in the storm. A vicious drug dealer was after them both. He couldn’t forgive himself if he led trouble here, to the home of an innocent woman.
If she was innocent…He gathered the towel around his hips and rose slowly. How did he know he could trust her? What if the Driscoes and Larkin showed up? Would she just turn him over? His head throbbed in time with his heartbeat. Just because she’d taken in a stray didn’t mean she wouldn’t cave in to pressure, endangering both him and his partner. He had to get out of here. “Do you have a phone I can use?”
Shannon stood beside him. “Phone lines are down, along with the power.”
Caleb’s head started to swim. “You don’t understand. I have to make a call.”
“I’m sorry. That’s not possible right now.”
He tried to listen to what she was saying, but he couldn’t make sense of the words. He swayed, then felt strong arms go around him.
“Hang on, big guy.”
Her voice was gentle, kind, with a touch of humor. He did what she said and hung on. And found a gentleness he’d never known. He wanted to sink into the softness, to savor it.
Her arms tightened. “Don’t pass out yet,” she commanded sternly. “We have to get you to the bed.”
Caleb’s woozy mind thought bed sounded like a great idea. He imagined cool sheets and a tawny-haired woman lying beside him as he explored her luscious curves. He felt a stirring in his loins, then realized he’d dropped his covering. “The towel.”
“Don’t worry about it,” she said matter-of-factly, guiding him along. “You’ll be under the blankets in no time.”
They entered a dimly lit room.
“Come on, just a few more feet.”
A few more feet. It felt like a mile.
“Okay, sit.”
She pushed him back gently until he felt a mattress give beneath him. The quilts had been drawn back, and the sheets felt cool against his skin. He started to shiver again. He grabbed at the blankets and tried to lie down.
Shannon held him up. “Oh, no, you don’t. We need to get your jacket off and your shirt, too.”
She tugged at his jacket. At her urging, he moved his arm out of the sleeve. She slid off the right sleeve, sending fire through his arm. He gasped involuntarily.