Page 100 of Balance

His chocolate eyes swam in my vision, and he didn’t even try to hide his panic.

“What can I do…” he asked, helplessness lacing his voice.

Well, we had only one blanket. And it was obvious that he was frozen too. His knuckles had brushed against my jaw in his movements and felt like ice against my skin.

There was only one logical solution.

“You’re cold too.” I couldn’t believe I was saying this, but one of us had to do the right thing. “Take off your wet clothes and come under the blanket with me. We can warm each other.” As horrifying as the idea might be, right now the idea of staying alive sounded better.

Besides, it would be fine. It reallywasreally cold. From my understanding, a man’smanhoodwas not nearly so impressive in such atmospheres. There was much less a chance of accident rubbings or even, dare I say, arousals.

That would be a problematic situation I would much rather avoid.

Of course we’d be lost in the woods in October. But at least the frigid air worked out better for that situation. I’d heard that cold air hindered a man’s performance.

But, seriously, who the heck went camping in late fall?

Miles, that’s who.

Why couldn’t he have gone after Sasquatch inJuly?

“But I can’t!” he protested, dropping his hands from my shoulders as he looked away. “It’s obvious you’re scared.”

“I’m not scared,” I lied.

Why should I be scared? This was no different than sleeping together or stripping down to my bra, like I had when I’d dealt with the-ghost-who-was-not-Mr.-Dungworth.

Then again, this was the first time we’d been completely alone. Even in Damen’s house, we were clothed and someone else was always around. Despite the logic, why was I nervous he might agree? Maybe there was a better way and he’d think of it now.

It didn’t matter, he would never agree. The man was stubborn. He played soccer bare-chested and flaunted his endurance in the face of freezing weather.

Oh well. At least I could say I tried, but it would take a lot for him to—

“Okay.” Miles turned his attention back to me, resolve etched sharply in his expression. His movements were quick, stilted, as he peeled off his jacket and shirt, and then slipped off the ugly camo pants.

My pulse soared in my ears. He wasactuallydoing it!

A silent scream echoed through my thoughts as Miles turned from me, now completely naked, and laid out his shirts and pants alongside mine. I didn’t close my eyes fast enough to miss the expanse of his well-muscled back, which, technically even though I’d seen it before, was no less impressive with every new viewing.

Thankfully I had the fortitude to keep my eyes from… the front. But it was impossible to look away from the curve of his butt. The man even had a dimplethere.

There was nothing threatening about that at all.

It was then I spotted it, my long-held question finally answered.

Right in the middle of the curve of his butt washismark.

“It’s on yourglutes?” I covered my mouth in surprise. What an embarrassing location.

Miles paused, his eyebrow raising as he glanced at me. “Are you seriously looking at my ass? After I’ve been avoiding staring at you and everything…”

“But it’sonyour gluteus maximus!” I pointed at him, no longer ashamed.

“Please stop calling it that.” Miles frowned. “You need to do this every time? It’s just an ass.”

He wasn’t embarrassed anymore; in fact, that was annoyance flickering in his eyes. A sense of déjà vu briefly blackened my vision—a dream of another time and another place.

“Bianca?” Miles’s voice broke through my thoughts, and the warm pressure of his hands moved against my shoulders. “Are you okay? Do you need me to—”