Page 35 of The Rescuer

“I’m not taking that bet because I’m sure you’re right. C’mon, Doc. Let’s go keep the kids out of trouble.”

Peals of laughter escaped her, and she lost her balance and crashed into him. Again. Falling against him was like bouncing off a tree trunk, except this one caught and righted her. Then he tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow and chuckled as led her toward the adjoining jewelry store, weaving all the way.

Good thing she and Reece were along to keep everyone in line.

Chapter 9

What Happens in Vegas Doesn't Always Stay There

Neve lifted a scratchyeyelid, thought better of it, and slammed it shut—which only made her aware of her aching head. In between the thudding pulses, she marshaled her thoughts one at a time. Questions, actually. Why was her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth? Why was the air around her so hot and smelled of … she couldn’t place it, but it had a sour tang to it. Where was she? Why did her head—no, her entire body—hurt so much? And what was with the block of warm weight beside her? Was it the reason the temperature was on the Sahara Desert side of the gauge?

Said block murmured, its mouth so close she could feel warm breath cascading over her ear. A heavy, masculine arm snakedaround her stomach, and it was … skin to skin. And beneath a layer of bedding. Quelling her rising panic, she took a quick inventory. Her body parts were all present and accounted for, but not her clothing. She was totally naked. If the hard chest pressing against her left arm was any indication, so was her bed partner. That theory was confirmed when a heavy, hairy leg slid over hers, pinning her in place.

Never mind trying to hold back her panic. She let it bloom into full flower as she shoved at the arm. A different, unfamiliar sort of weight dragged at her hand. It was hard, like metal. All these sensations coalesced and began bombarding her at once.

She pushed at the arm, but it didn’t move. Instead, the mouth that belonged to the arm muttered, “Chelse, don’t be like that.”

The baritone and the muscular arm left no doubt a “he” lay beside her. She pushed again, but the arm clamped down like an iron band and pulled her in. Lips and nose nuzzled her ear as a growing appendage made itself known.

“Mmm, that’s nice,” her companion rumbled.

That voice. It struck a chord of recognition deep inside her soul, and anxiety boiled in the cauldron that was her stomach. She turned her head. Despite the murky shadows, she could make out long dark lashes fanning across strong cheekbones. And tousled brown hair. She knew from a lifetime of looking at it that it was the color of walnut shells polished to a glossy sheen. The jaw was covered in a short, dark beard. She’d never touched it before, but now she knew. It was as soft as it looked.

She stared into the face of the man she had loved her entire life—who had never loved her back. God, she had to be dreaming! But did she really want to wake up right now?

She squirmed to get away, but his big, calloused hand swept up, covered her bare breast, and gently squeezed. The nuzzling grew more determined, and soft lips pressed against her throat. His tongue flicked out and made tiny circles against her sensitive skin. The man was on a mission she wanted no part of, but her body betrayed her when her lady bits tingled and her nipple tightened under his warm touch.

As he palmed her breast, he began a slow, decadent grind against her bare hip.

Oh hell! Had they …? And she’d missed it? Oh no, this was not good.

Mustering all her strength, she heaved off his arm and powered to an upright position. His eyes snapped open. “What the—”

My question exactly.She tumbled from the bed, anxious to cover up before he got an eyeful, but her ankles tangled in the sheets and she flopped forward, her cheek thumping on the carpeted floor and her ass sticking up in the air for him and the entire world to scrutinize. Yeah, she was as graceful as a dog on a frozen pond.

“Damn it!”

“What the hell’s going on?” His voice was a mixture of gruffness and confusion. To her mortification, he leaned over the edge of the bed. “Hey, are you okay?”

She kicked at the sheets wrapped around her feet, only intensifying her humiliation. If she tried really hard, called on all her manifestation powers, maybe she could press herself into the carpet and dissolve into its threads.

No such luck.

That same hand that had been fondling her mere seconds before landed on her calf. “Stop moving for a sec so I can help you out of this.”

So typical of him. Always looking to rescuesomeone, but this wasn’t the kind of rescue she’d ever imagined needing.

Can you rescue me from this mortifying situation?she refrained from asking. Instead, she let out a groan of embarrassment.

He tugged at the sheets wrapped around her ankle. “Almost there.”

And she was free. She popped up to her knees and crawled toward a door that had to lead to the bathroom, giving him an excellent view of her jiggling white ass. Opening the door, she flung herself inside. She had miscalculated; she was sitting in a closet. She yanked the door closed anyway, drew her knees up, and hugged them to her body. Resting her chin on them, she waited.

A soft knock, followed by a softer chuckle, sounded through the louvered door. “Hey, I’m just as surprised as you are. Want to come out of the closet so we can figure out what happened?”

The door cracked open, and she looked up at one half-lidded eye peering down at her. “I’m naked here,” she protested.

“With the way you’re balled up like a roly-poly, I can’t tell. And by the way, I’m naked too.”

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