Page 20 of Secret Baby
He must be having a nightmare.
She let her tee shirt go and pushed the door open all the way. Colt needed to stop. He'd wake Clara. They were all safe. Still at his door, she knocked, but he didn't stir.
Her heart thumped as he thrashed his head on the pillow and his voice cracked with pain. "No."
Her heart swelled. She tiptoed close to him and saw his muscular frame twisted in his sheets. He struggled in his nightmare. His forehead was covered with sweat. With her arm crossed over her chest, she took in a deep breath and decided fast. Perhaps the wind and the rain and the temperature changes affected him. The ache in her throat told her that she couldn't let him get sick.
As she tucked the sheets that he'd throw off around him, she leaned over him. She didn't know what to do, but the deep lines of fear on his brow melted her heart. Then, as she rearranged his pillow for more comfort, she brushed his shoulder and realized he was burning hot. She must have been right. He might have a serious fever. She felt his forehead and inhaled.
Now was not the time to be sick. The hurricane outside could be dangerous, and they might need his strength. His head flipped to the other side of the pillow and he let out a moan. She'd never been a nurse, but she had to do something. She rushed to the bathroom, found a washcloth, and wet it. Coolness would help him. As she made her plan, her gaze sharpened and her hands became surer. Then she ran to his bed, brushed his forehead with the cool, wet cloth, and hoped she soothed whatever heated him.
At first, strong hands tugged at hers to pull off the towel, like her presence was what he fought. He tugged her to his chest, but she held firm. Again he yelled out, "No."
The smell of oak and oranges overwhelmed her, and her body softened. If only... No. She shouldn't go there. Instead, she bit her lip and only let go of the towel when he stopped moving. He must be having a calmer dream. Her legs felt weak, and she closed her eyes as she sat on the edge of his bed.
She intended to stand, but then he reached lower on her body and hugged her waist. If only she had made different choices. She leaned forward and kissed his cheek as she fixed the cloth on his head. He tugged her lower, and his hard muscles sent a hum in her blood. His fingers traced her lower back, and she bucked to get off him. "Colt, it's me. It's Vicki."
His body didn't press so hard, but her yearning for him grew before his lips claimed hers. His full lips tasted better than wine, and a sigh escaped her. Her hands inched up to his shoulder to push him away. Her mouth opened to say something, but the embers of desire coursed through her. She returned his kiss and her lips tingled. Her hands that had fought him decided to play with his hair, and stroke him.
In a minute, he'd wake up and stop.
Until then, her body heat made her uncomfortably hot too. Had the storm taken out the air conditioner? His husky groan of desire returned her mind to her predicament, and she tried to sit. He tugged at her top of her panties and boxer shorts she'd borrowed to sleep in. She loosened his grip and bolted away from him, but then he sat up. She pressed her hand with the towel that had been on his head, but he tilted his head and kissed her again. All she could do was moan out his name as he deepened his claim on her lips.
The torrid ache inside her grew, but she stood and let him go. As she stared at him, she realized she clutched the towel in her fist.
Without a sound, he rolled backward, but almost fell off the bed. She placed her hands on his chest to steady him and ensure he lay down straight. The thump of his heartbeat played against her palm, and heat rushed through her.
How had he not woken?
Her body reddened from desire now, but she had an extra layer of mortification.
She brushed his hair and checked his temperature. His forehead seemed cooler now. With her feet planted on the ground, she sighed and thought she should go. He slept peacefully. She turned and slid out of the room.
Thunder cracked in the air as the wind rattled the shutters. She ignored the hurricane and returned to her room, where she slammed her door shut. The sound was louder than she'd intended, and her heart thumped faster. With luck, no one woke up now.
To calm her jumpy nerves, she stood behind the door in her room and covered her mouth. Colt, the man of her dreams for years, still sent her body off course, and he had no idea what had happened. With luck, he'd never remember. She swallowed and ran her hand through her hair. The deepness of his sleep and the nightmares he had kept him knocked out. In the morning, she'd have to face him.
Her father had once said, to her brother Peter as he always spoke to the oldest son, that life was too short to regret anything.
She closed her eyes. She'd never manipulate to get her way. She was not someone who betrayed everyone's trust. She was not her father. With her hands clenched, she fought a tear of regret. She'd never steal, and Colt had promised another woman marriage. She must have a beautiful diamond ring that symbolized his commitment. If she had a symbol of his love, she'd never take it off. Vicki's bare fingers ached, and she rested her head on the door to let the thoughts go.
Nothing moved. With a bolt of energy, she breathed and let the tingle in her chest grow. Visions of a stolen life flashed in vivid color in her head, and Vicki closed her eyes. Every limb in her body shook. She opened her eyes. With heavy steps, she took one footstep at a time toward the bathroom. She'd not sleep, and maybe water would wash away her whimpers.
Her cold body sweat made her uncomfortable, but she splashed water on her face. The cold, clean water relaxed her.
The lightheadedness went away in the steam of the shower. In the morning, she'd have to find a way to face Colt. Tomorrow, she'd stare up into his sexy brown eyes and handsome face... She coughed uncontrollably.
The lights flickered as she stepped out of the shower. The howl of the wind rattled the shutters. Vicki wrapped her towel around her fast. The hurricane must be getting worse. She threw her tee shirt back on, and covered herself with the towel. Thirty seconds later, she heard a crash and sat. In that second, the house and everything inside went black.
Total darkness of a room without any windows surrounded her. She stood and wished she'd asked Colt for a flashlight. She knew better, but she had to check on Clara again. With one ginger step after another, she made it to the door and stumbled forward into her bedroom.
Without warning, the door opened as a light shone in her room.
"Vicki?" Colt asked. "Are you okay?"
How was he now awake? She blinked and gritted her teeth. Then she bunched the t-shirt lower, as her legs and panties were showing. "Yeah. I was in the shower. Do you have a flashlight to give me?"
He tucked his hands in his pocket and rocked on his feet. His face was red. "I mean, did something just happen? I had a strange dream."
