Page 32 of Seven Brides for Beau McBride (The McBrides of Montana #3)

She was still rigidly hugging the bole of the tree. “I’m not sure I can even let go of this trunk.” She cleared her throat. “Maybe you should just leave me here to meet my fate. Do you think death by lightning is painless?”

She was impossible. “I doubt it,” he snapped. Goddamn it. He considered his options for getting her down. They were all terrible.

“Do you think I’d survive jumping for it?”

“No. Don’t you dare.”

“I suppose it’s kind of romantic to die trapped in the embrace of a tree in a lightning storm…”

“Suppose again. It’s just pointless and stupid.”

“You lack romance,” she informed him.

“I’m perfectly romantic in the right situation. This ain’t the right situation at all.” He tugged at her. “Come on.”

Ellie tried to inch herself back from the trunk, along the branch, but her feet got caught in the sodden hem of her gown and she almost sent them flying. She screeched and pressed back against the tree.

Beau clawed at her to keep her stable and tried to calm his heart, which had seized up at the sight of her stumbling. The woman was going to kill them both trying to climb down in that heavy gown.

Well, she wasn’t staying up here. Skirts be damned.

Beau ran his fingers up her back, feeling for buttons.

“Hey!” she protested, when he began unbuttoning her. “This isn’t romantic or the right situation, Beau!”

“I’m not keen to see you killed by your own dress.”

“Well, I’m not keen to die in my underwear!”

“How about not dying in your underwear?” Once it was unbuttoned, Beau pulled the dress down over her shoulders. Her underwear was just as ugly as her dress, he noted, when the lightning flared the woods bright as day. It was homespun and yellowing, patched to within an inch of its life.

“Hey! Be careful. This is my best dress.”

Beau struggled to keep his balance as he lowered the dress over her hips and it fell to her feet.

“You can get a new one. But let’s be clear, this isn’t any kind of best dress.

It’s categorically the worst dress there ever was.

Lift your foot. Now the other foot.” The ugly dress went plummeting to the ground, where it landed with a wet slapping noise.

Beau put his hands on her hips, which were now clad only in pantaloons. “You have two choices. You can either follow me yourself, or you can get on my back, and I’ll try and get us both down.”

“Oh no. You couldn’t. I’d end up killing us both. I’d much rather sacrifice myself and have you live. Tell everyone I died bravely.” She looked down. “Lie if you have to.”

“You really are the most—”

“—selfless person?”

“—infuriating woman.”

“I’m not getting on your back.” She straightened her shoulders but still didn’t let go of the tree trunk. “I’ll try and follow you.” She was shivering hard now from the wet and the cold. Her undergarments were sticking to her like wet paper. Beau tried not to get distracted by it.

“You sure you can do it?” He tore his gaze away from her body. She had finely shaped limbs and small, perky breasts. Her legs were lithe and perfect.

“No, I’m not sure I can do it at all. But I’m really hungry and there’s no food up here.”

“Keep one hand on a branch at all times,” he instructed her. “Watch me.” He lowered himself slowly and reached with his feet for the branch below.

Beau was gratified to learn she was a quick study.

She managed to get herself most of the way down, only giving him two or three heart attacks on the way.

And when she finally slipped and fell, knocking him out of his branch on the way, they were close enough to the ground not to break anything.

They went smacking into the mud, Beau first, and Ellie astride him.

“I did it!” Her relief was loud in his ear.

“Almost,” he agreed, spitting out a mouthful of mud.

Good God, the way she slid against him in the slick mud was discombobulating. Those lithe and perfect legs had straddled him and she was pressing against him in places that were… waking up.

“Ah, you’re not hurt?” He took her hips in his hands and tried to shift her away from his crotch. But she didn’t shift. If anything, she pressed into him harder.

“No, I’m fine!” She beamed at him. “You saved me.”

Saved wasn’t the word for it, he thought dumbly, feeling a burst of pleasure as she rubbed against him. There was nothing of salvation about this situation.

Lightning speared and there was a crack of angry thunder.

“We better go,” Beau said, pushing aside the spike of regret that stabbed him at the thought. He was enjoying the pressure of her against him entirely too much.

“Do you think we should see if the bear is okay?” Ellie asked, her arms wrapping around his neck as he jostled her when he tried to sit up.

Her breasts were pressing into his chest now. He could feel the firm spread of them and the jut of her cold nipples. It was untenable. But also kind of irresistible…

“Sure. We’ll see if the bear is okay. Then we can eat all the red mushrooms we can find.” Beau pushed her gently off him. She landed with a soft slap in the mud.

It should have helped, but it didn’t. Because now he was looking at her exposed body through the mud-splattered transparent linen. She was filthy. And it was shockingly arousing. For a blazing second he imagined cleaning the mud off her, inch by inch…

“We have to go,” he growled. “ Now .”