Page 2 of Desired By the Lumberjack

"Fall asleep on you?" I say, and my voice sounds dreamy, far away. "I don't even know you."

He barks out a laugh, and I feel the rumble of it through his chest into mine. It makes me smile even as my eyes drift closed.

2

MERRITT

I should be furious that I'm trekking through almost knee-deep snow to reach my truck, and the absence of my anger is worrying. Because I'm thinking far too much about how nice it is to have her tucked in close to my chest, how soft she feels against me. This should be a hardship, but instead, I'm grateful for the excuse to sweep her off her feet and keep her from the cold.

Until her eyes flutter closed and her head lolls against my chest like she's lost consciousness. All my emergency rescue training tells me this is a bad sign. That she must have had a head injury I hadn't known about or some other hidden injury, and I've just made the most basic of mistakes. Moving a crash victim too quickly.

It doesn't matter that the storm is only supposed to get worse or that it was unlikely one of the ambulances could've made it up here anyway. All that matters is that I'm responsible for whatever is wrong with the woman in my arms.

My heart beats a steady rhythm as I push on up the incline, urging me to move safely and quickly. As the road comes intoview, I'm starting to sweat, but I just tighten my hold and cross the final few yards until I can open the door.

Warm air blasts out around me in the night. The foresight I had to keep the truck running is a blessing when I settle her onto the seat and buckle her into place. I take off my coat and tuck it around her, then shut the door, and race around to the other side, jumping in and gunning the motor. My options are limited. There's no way I can get her to the hospital in this storm, and even trying to head back down the road to town is a sketchy proposition. I look over at her, noting the bag she was so intent on pulling out of her car when we left. I ease it from her grasp and set it carefully on the back seat.

Knowing there's only one safe choice to make right now, I point the truck toward the peak and start the slow drive up the mountain. At least I know we can make it to my cabin. There, I'll check her over, make sure she's all right, and then send her on her way once the storm breaks.

Looking over at her sleeping face, though, I begin to wonder if it will be as easy to do as I'm telling myself it will be.

3

LAUREL

I wake up warm, cozy, and covered with a comforting soft weight. I stretch as my eyes slowly open to the sight of heavy wood beams on the ceiling.

The memory of the accident hits me, and I sit up with a gasp, but a wave of dizziness washes over me, and I force myself to slow down. To take deep breaths and let my body adjust to the change in position.

"Feeling all right?"

Deep and gravelly, that voice sparks something inside me. A feeling of safety, care and protection, but also more.

A heavy weight sits down beside me on the bed and his scent hits me again. A hint of the outdoors softened by masculine musk that makes me want to bury my nose in his shirt all over again.

His fingers grip my wrist gently, just above the pulse point, and a spark lights me up from the inside. One simple touch and I'm already thinking things I shouldn't. Like how good it feels to have his skin against mine. Even if it's just a clinical testing of my heart rate.

"Do you have a cardiac condition I should know about?"

The question pulls my attention to his face, and there's a professional air about him, but there's a tension in him that makes me think there's a personal level of worry there as well.

"Um, not really. More a blood pressure issue than anything?" He doesn't say a word, just waits like he expects me to elaborate. Embarrassment burns my cheeks, as I look away. "It's really low most of the time. So, any time I move too fast, even if it's just standing up from a chair, I could have a fainting episode."

He examines me, his eyes lingering extra at my hairline before he brushes his fingertips over a few loose strands that have slipped free of the clips. Then he nods, like whatever I said satisfied him. "Good to know. I'll be more careful sweeping you off your feet next time."

"Promise?" I ask, grinning at him, and he smiles back. Some of my worry slips away, and I look around. "So, did you kidnap me? Or is this some kind of fancy mountain hospital?"

"Neither actually." He stands and turns toward me, offering me a hand. It's not until I start to slide my feet off the side of the mattress do I realize how high up it is. My hand settles into his and his fingers engulf mine as he steadies me while I plant my feet and stand. "This is my cabin. The storm was too bad to risk taking you to the hospital and I was afraid you had a head injury. This was the safest option at the time."

A little stab of disappointment twists in my stomach, even though I shouldn't feel this way. He saved my life in the middle of a storm I was dumb enough to drive in. He hauled me out of the car, carried me up a hill, even though I was dead weight for most of that, and then let me recover in his house. He's a good person, even if he's big and intimidating when he's not smiling. Which seems like it's most of the time so far.

"Well. Thank you. I appreciate you not letting me die out there." I try to keep the words light, but there's a slight tremor to them I hope he doesn't catch. "I'm Laurel, by the way."

He clears his throat, and I realize I'm still holding his hand. I start to pull away, but he doesn't release me right away like I expect. His skin is warm, his grip gentle but sure. The pressure of his fingers increases a fraction, then he lets me go.

"I'm Merritt." He steps away, and I fight back the temptation to reach for him as he asks, "Are you hungry?"

As if the very mention of food is all it takes to remind me how long it's been since I've eaten, my stomach growls. Which earns me a twitch of his lips beneath the beard.

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