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‘What about you?’ she said.
He was only wearing jeans and a thin sweater under the shearling jacket, his gloves looked like driving gloves and the beanie he’d put on couldn’t be that warm either, while she had on four layers of winter clothing. ‘You should take some of my sweaters,’ she added, scared for him as much as herself.
What if they got lost in the whiteout? What if the house was further than he thought? What if it wasn’t a house at all? How could he stay warm?
‘I’ll be okay,’ he said with the same flippancy which had always annoyed her.
Why did he always do that? Pretend to be invulnerable, and immune to elements which could cripple lesser mortals. And make her feel as if her concern was insignificant and unnecessary.
‘But I don’t want you to die,’ she pleaded, keeping a death grip on his sleeve.
He let out a low chuckle that would have annoyed her more if she wasn’t so terrified.
‘That’s good, because neither do I,’ he murmured, then he grasped her head and yanked her towards him to take her lips in a furious kiss.
She opened for him instantly, heat exploding with the giddy rush of yearning. His tongue delved—conquering, demanding, strong and unyielding.
She clung to him, never wanting the kiss to end. If they could just stay here and make love again, everything would be all right. Wouldn’t it? Her fears dissolved until all that was left was the heat and the longing.
But he tore his mouth free with a tortured groan then pressed his forehead to hers, their breaths mingling in the chilly air.
‘We’re not going to die tonight, Melody,’ he said, his strong hands massaging her stiff shoulders. ‘Because we’ve still got a ton of arguments in our future.’
The foolish, flippant words were still echoing in her soul and wrapping around her heart as he launched himself into the frozen storm and dragged her out behind him.
CHAPTER FIVE
‘YOU ARE WEAK,RENE.I tried to make you a man but, as always, you are a disappointment. Why don’t you lie down, as you want to—the storm is stronger than you are…’
‘No, it damn well isn’t,’ Rene hissed. But the reply to his father’s caustic words was whisked away on the freezing wind.
He bent his head and kept going.
Every part of him hurt now, the parts he could still feel anyway. His cheeks were in a state of agony as he faced into the icy wind. But his father’s voice, telling him what a failure he was—and had always been—galvanised his temper. And his determination to survive.
That and the thought of Melody huddled behind him as she clung on and kept going too.
This was his fault. He should have informed his staff he was leaving with Mel. Should have contacted the authorities while he still had a phone signal. Should never have taken that detour.
In fact, he should never have embarked on this damn drive in the first place. The mountain range here was mostly undeveloped and could be treacherous. The storm had come from nowhere, had not been forecast, but, even so, he knew the region well enough to know one’s safety was never guaranteed.
But he’d been too mad with her, too determined to save her from herself to think clearly. And then he’d been too busy thinking about her, asleep beside him, to concentrate on anything else, until their situation had gone from bad to potentially catastrophic.
Maybe your father was right all along…
The words whispered on the wind, cruel, damning, but not necessarily incorrect, making him doubt himself once more.
But then Melody stumbled against his back. He stopped to drag her up with numb hands, and yanked her against his side. She looked up at him, her exhaustion clear even in the hazy torchlight.
‘We have to keep going, Melody,’ he shouted into her ear. ‘Do you need me to carry you?’
She shook her head vigorously, forcing herself upright. Then pushed against his back, urging him onwards.
Pride and possessiveness swelled in his chest, the rush of adrenaline giving him the strength he needed to turn back into the wind and trudge on.
No way was he letting her die tonight. His lips cracked, still buzzing with the memory of their furious kiss in the car. He concentrated on the heat, the desperation to have her under him again.
They would get through this, and when they did, perhaps all they really needed to do was satisfy this incessant yearning, give in to the infernal chemistry once more… To burn it out for good.
He was only wearing jeans and a thin sweater under the shearling jacket, his gloves looked like driving gloves and the beanie he’d put on couldn’t be that warm either, while she had on four layers of winter clothing. ‘You should take some of my sweaters,’ she added, scared for him as much as herself.
What if they got lost in the whiteout? What if the house was further than he thought? What if it wasn’t a house at all? How could he stay warm?
‘I’ll be okay,’ he said with the same flippancy which had always annoyed her.
Why did he always do that? Pretend to be invulnerable, and immune to elements which could cripple lesser mortals. And make her feel as if her concern was insignificant and unnecessary.
‘But I don’t want you to die,’ she pleaded, keeping a death grip on his sleeve.
He let out a low chuckle that would have annoyed her more if she wasn’t so terrified.
‘That’s good, because neither do I,’ he murmured, then he grasped her head and yanked her towards him to take her lips in a furious kiss.
She opened for him instantly, heat exploding with the giddy rush of yearning. His tongue delved—conquering, demanding, strong and unyielding.
She clung to him, never wanting the kiss to end. If they could just stay here and make love again, everything would be all right. Wouldn’t it? Her fears dissolved until all that was left was the heat and the longing.
But he tore his mouth free with a tortured groan then pressed his forehead to hers, their breaths mingling in the chilly air.
‘We’re not going to die tonight, Melody,’ he said, his strong hands massaging her stiff shoulders. ‘Because we’ve still got a ton of arguments in our future.’
The foolish, flippant words were still echoing in her soul and wrapping around her heart as he launched himself into the frozen storm and dragged her out behind him.
CHAPTER FIVE
‘YOU ARE WEAK,RENE.I tried to make you a man but, as always, you are a disappointment. Why don’t you lie down, as you want to—the storm is stronger than you are…’
‘No, it damn well isn’t,’ Rene hissed. But the reply to his father’s caustic words was whisked away on the freezing wind.
He bent his head and kept going.
Every part of him hurt now, the parts he could still feel anyway. His cheeks were in a state of agony as he faced into the icy wind. But his father’s voice, telling him what a failure he was—and had always been—galvanised his temper. And his determination to survive.
That and the thought of Melody huddled behind him as she clung on and kept going too.
This was his fault. He should have informed his staff he was leaving with Mel. Should have contacted the authorities while he still had a phone signal. Should never have taken that detour.
In fact, he should never have embarked on this damn drive in the first place. The mountain range here was mostly undeveloped and could be treacherous. The storm had come from nowhere, had not been forecast, but, even so, he knew the region well enough to know one’s safety was never guaranteed.
But he’d been too mad with her, too determined to save her from herself to think clearly. And then he’d been too busy thinking about her, asleep beside him, to concentrate on anything else, until their situation had gone from bad to potentially catastrophic.
Maybe your father was right all along…
The words whispered on the wind, cruel, damning, but not necessarily incorrect, making him doubt himself once more.
But then Melody stumbled against his back. He stopped to drag her up with numb hands, and yanked her against his side. She looked up at him, her exhaustion clear even in the hazy torchlight.
‘We have to keep going, Melody,’ he shouted into her ear. ‘Do you need me to carry you?’
She shook her head vigorously, forcing herself upright. Then pushed against his back, urging him onwards.
Pride and possessiveness swelled in his chest, the rush of adrenaline giving him the strength he needed to turn back into the wind and trudge on.
No way was he letting her die tonight. His lips cracked, still buzzing with the memory of their furious kiss in the car. He concentrated on the heat, the desperation to have her under him again.
They would get through this, and when they did, perhaps all they really needed to do was satisfy this incessant yearning, give in to the infernal chemistry once more… To burn it out for good.
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