Page 5 of Kian

As she unhooked his belt, Gretchen’s fingers trembled with a mix of fear and urgency. She needed to warm him up before it was too late. She quickly made her way to the bedroom, grabbing blankets to wrap him in once he was undressed. He was still shivering, barely conscious.

With shaking hands, she opened the closet and retrieved three soft blankets. She hurried to the kitchen and placed two of them in the dryer. She turned it on low, then returned to the man. Taking a deep breath before attempting to undress him.

Chapter Two

The snap of his jeans seemed impossible and delicate under her frantic touch. The zipper was stubborn, refusing to budge despite her tugging and pulling. A wave of frustration washed over her as she struggled to remove his wet clothing.

Determined not to give up, Gretchen straddled his legs and hooked her fingers into his belt loops, using all her strength to pull down his jeans. They finally gave way, sliding slowly down his legs until they reached his knees.

Her eyes wandered over his toned stomach, admiring the definition of each muscle before trailing up to his chest. A light dusting of hair covered hisverysolid looking pecs. Her fingers tingled with an urge to trace along the lines of his chiseled jaw and explore the contours of his face.

But there was no time for distractions. With a sigh, Gretchen got up and finished removing his jeans, dropping them on the floor.

As she reached for his black boxer briefs, her gaze met his dark eyes that seemed to hold a hint of confusion. Their intense stare made her cheeks flush as she quickly stood up and tossed a blanket over him.

“I’ll wash your clothes in a minute, but your shirt is a loss,” she stammered, trying to regain her composure. She reached under the blanket and removed his boxer briefs.

“Where am I?” he asked, his voice hoarse and strained.

“In my cabin,” she replied, trying to sound calm despite her racing heart. “What’s your name? I couldn’t find any identification on you.”

His brows furrowed as he tried to remember. “It’s...” he trailed off, shaking his head in frustration. “I don’t know.”

“It’s okay,” Gretchen reassured him, feeling a pang of sympathy for his memory loss. “I’m sure it will come back to you. I’ll be right back.” She collected his clothes and tossed his jeans, socks, and underwear into the washing machine. She threw his shirt in the trashcan. Then she removed the heated blankets from the dryer before returning to his side.

He was huddled under the blanket, still shivering despite the warmth.

“Who shot you?”

He frowned, trying to recall the events that led to his injuries. “I... don’t know. I can’t remember anything. I have a splitting headache.”

“I’ll get you a couple acetaminophen,” Gretchen said sympathetically as she got up from the floor. “I’ll be right back.”

“Thank you,” he murmured gratefully, causing her heart to skip a beat at the sound of his deep and raspy voice.

She quickly retrieved the pills and a glass of water, along with a bowl of warm sudsy water, along with gauze, before returning to tend to his wounds. As she cleaned and dressed them with care, her mind raced with questions about who he was and how he ended up on her property in such a state.

But for now, all that mattered was helping this stranger in need. Once she finished cleaning and dressing his wounds, she sat back on her heels.

“Can you roll yourself onto the sleeping bag? You’ll be warmer.”

He nodded slowly, and rolled to his side, making the blanket covering him slide off. Her mouth dropped open when she caught a glimpse of his naked form, but quickly zipped the sleeping bag closed, and covered it with heated blankets before sitting beside him.

“Where am I?” he asked her again.

“I already told you. Try to remember.”

Gretchen watched him frown, then he looked at her.

“In your cabin,” he said.

“Right. I’ve got your wounds cleaned and bandaged.” She stopped him when he reached his hand up to touch the wrapping of gauze around his head. “No wonder you have a headache. You have one hell of a gash on the back of your head.”

“I don’t remember anything…” He shook his head, then winced. “My name, what happened, where I live. What I was doing out there. It’s all a blank.”

“You’ll remember. You’re in shock right now. I can’t take you to the hospital because the roads are closed.”

“Why?”

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