Page 9 of Stranded with the SEAL

So much for Sarah Davenport.

He only mourned the promises of those coral lips for a moment, because he knew his HERO Force brothers were more important than any woman could ever be.

5

She smelledlike honey and musk, the scent surrounding him as he moved closer to her sleeping form. It was so cold, and he craved her warmth as much as he craved the curves of her body cushioning the hard planes of his own.

There was an ache deep in his hip like he’d worked out too hard, another in his quads. What the hell had he been doing? The woman was beginning to fade, her scent more ethereal, and he lunged for her, inhaling the smell deep into his lungs. The tiniest touch of woodsmoke lingered on her skin, and he opened his eyes, confused.

Where the hell was he?

So damn cold. Even with a thick comforter, he was chilled clear through to his bones. He worked to remember where he was.

He could hear the crash of the accident, remember running on his aching knee, the unconscious woman in his arms. The cabin.

He looked around, taking in the dark room and the fire that had nearly burned out. Pursing his lips, he exhaled, half expecting to be able to see his own breath, but could not.

He took in the sleeping form on the couch opposite him, immediately recognizing the woman from his dream.Olivia.He needed to be beside her, needed to feel her warmth against his skin, just as he had dreamed. He sat up, pulling his covers with him. Crossing to her, he placed his hands on her cheeks, then her forehead. For the second time that day, he wondered if she’d died from her injuries.

Fear trickled down his spine like drops of icy water. He kneeled beside her and felt her neck for a pulse, finding a steady beat.

Alive, then — but surely not well. A hard shiver shook his shoulders. What had happened to the furnace? The first thing he did was to turn the heat up, but clearly it wasn’t working. He’d check it out in the morning. Right now, he needed more wood for the fire, and he stood, resolute. Intense cold always reminded him of BUD/S training, and being repeatedly showered with a fire hose in the freezing cold.

It reminded him he could withstand anything.

It was what he was trained to do.

As he stepped onto the porch, the wind pushed him full in the face. Bracing himself, he filled his arms with firewood, then went inside and skillfully laid the logs on the embers. He covered Olivia with his comforter and slipped in behind her. It was a tight squeeze on the narrow couch, but they needed each other’s warmth more than he needed to be comfortable.

He pulled her tightly against his body and wrapped his arms around her. She was cold enough that she seemed to suck out the little warmth he had left in his own body, like he was lying in bed with a popsicle. He rubbed her arms and slipped her leg between his own, willing the heat from his body into hers.

“You’re going to be okay,” he whispered into her ear, wondering if she could hear him and fearing she could not.

This was his fault. He’d done this to her.

Guilt was like an aching pit he was being pulled into, the knowledge of his own responsibility for her current state overwhelming him. What if she never woke up again? What if she couldn’t walk, or needed medical care he couldn’t get her here?

He rubbed his cheek on her back. “I’m sorry.”

The fire began to crackle and catch. He took in her profile, the golden light of the fire illuminating her skin. There was a dark bruise beneath her eye and another on her forehead, but neither could hide what a beautiful woman she was, with fine bone structure and lushly rounded lips.

Up close her features shone with a natural kind of beauty that stirred something deep in his belly. He ran his hand up to her shoulder and down to her waist, feeling the womanly rise and fall of her silhouette.

He gritted his teeth together. He had to get her warm, but getting turned on was not part of the bargain. He forced himself to look at the fresh bruises that marred her honeyed complexion.

She was his responsibility.

“I won’t let you down,” he whispered. She half turned at the sound of his voice, clearly startled.

“Olivia?”

Her teeth started chattering and her torso began to shake.

“Come here,” he said, shifting so she could roll her chest toward him. “I’ll keep you warm.”

She did as she was told, but as soon as she started to move she called out in pain.

“What’s wrong?”