Sunday, May 6, 2012

Dark Secrets heats up

Riley was still shivering in his arms as Hawk carried her into the house. When he sat her on the couch and tried to assess her state, he realized she was unaware of her surroundings. Her eyes still had that wild look, and she was paler than moonlight.
“Hold on one second,” he told her, knowing that she might not even hear him. “Let me get some things taken care of, and I’ll get you warm.”
Grabbing the blanket hanging on the back of the couch, he wrapped her in it then went to get a fire started in the fireplace. When he had a nice blaze going, he knelt beside her and attempted to remove her wet clothes. Her jacket, jeans, and shoes were soaked from the rain and the puddle. Riley just sat there, hands tightened into fists, while he removed them.
He paused before going any further, not knowing how she’d react. But what he did know was she’d catch pneumonia if he didn’t take care of her. Uttering a silent prayer that she wouldn’t run shrieking into the rain or sock him in the jaw, he slid her jeans down her legs with great care and slow movements and tossed them aside. She tensed when he unbuttoned her blouse and eased it from her body but didn’t protest.
 He gritted his teeth and reached for every bit of self-control as his gaze swept her body. The lace and silk lingerie—fancier than he would have expected from a little mouse in Freewill—did little to disguise her nicely rounded body. Her nipples, darkened from the cold, showed through the insubstantial bra. He could almost feel her legs wrapped around him.
She needed comfort and security, not the randy thoughts of a horny sheriff.
Forcing himself to move, he swaddled her in the blanket once more and tucked her into a corner of the couch. The fire was throwing out plenty of heat now. His next move was to warm her up from the inside out and convince her she was safe with him. After throwing her clothes in the drier, he fetched a bottle of brandy and poured some into a snifter for her.
She was still sitting the way he’d left her, scrunched into a corner of the couch, fingers holding the edges of the blanket in a death grip. Hawk sat down beside her and eased her closer to him, wrapping one arm around her.
“Come on, Riley. You need to drink some of this. Get rid of that chill.”
He brushed the rim of the snifter against her lips slowly, the way he’d seen women try to get their kids to drink. At last she opened her mouth enough to take a swallow.
She choked, and her eyes watered.
“Hey. Easy there, sweetheart,” he told her. “You don’t want to kill yourself here.” He rubbed his hand in gentle circles on her back until she was able to breathe again. “Okay, good. That’s better.”
As he fed her sips of the brandy, he watched some color come back into her face. Her body relaxed by slow degrees against him, almost molding herself to him. Telling himself he was ten kinds of a fool, he lifted her onto his lap and cradled her in his arms. There was no doubt he was playing with fire here.
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1 comment:

Debby said...

Playing with fire? I wonder how burnt he gets.
debby236 at gmail dot com