Page 13 of Willow Embers
Absolutely not.
I must have hit my head when I went down in the creek. Or maybe I’m getting hypothermia and it’s making me stupid. I turn and cast a longing glance at the wooden chest, but before I can muster the energy to amble over there, Beauden is back with a bundle of small sticks and dried pinecones.
He sets to work starting the fire in silence, and what do I do? I sit there like a shaky lump on a log and watch. I mentally trace the scars on his left hand as he arranges things in the cold fireplace. They’re clearly not new, but I know they weren’t there when he left. Then my attention trails up his arm.
He’s changed a lot. Broader through the shoulders, all hard lines and rough edges now. His dark hair is cropped short, and his jaw is covered in scruff that could scrape skin raw in the best way. The boy I knew had a body made for football and summer night. This man? He’s all muscle and purpose.
I bite the inside of my cheek at the way his damp shirt clings to his muscled back. And when he turns to look at me, the lantern light reflecting in his midnight brown eyes, I can’t breathe.
His gaze rakes up and down my body, only there’s nothing sexual about it. That look is cold and assessing. “You need to get out of those clothes.”
Um, no.
Hard pass.
I shake my head.
He rolls his bottom lip between his teeth like he’s trying hard to hold back. Then he stands slowly, a towering mass of broody man and muscle, and peels his shirt off over his head. “We are both soaked. I could see you shivering from the front door. It’ll be at least an hour before that fireplace is putting out any real heat, so quit being stubborn, get on your feet, and get out of those damned clothes.”
Oh, he did not just usethattone with me.
“No.” I shove to my feet and look down at Tiberius to make sure I didn’t wake him. It takes a mountain of effort to keep my volume low. “You don’t get to talk to me like that. I appreciate your help finding my dog, but don’t think for a second that gives you the right to boss me around.”
“Nixie,” he growls my name like a warning, and it makes the short hairs on the back of my neck come alive.
“What?” I snarl.
His nostrils flare. A muscle in his jaw ticks. And whew buddy— now we’re cooking with fire.
“What the hell is your problem?” he bites out. “I’m trying to help.”
A bitter laugh slips out. “What’s my problem?” I march forward and jab a finger into his chest, icy and shaking. “You, Beauden.Youare my problem.”
He grabs my wrist before I can do it again.
“Let go,” I snap, trying to yank free of his grip.
He doesn’t let go. He just stands there, staring at me with warning glittering in his eyes. And when I rear back to slap him, he catches that hand too.
Then we’re locked in, glaring at each other, his chest rising and falling like a wild beast on the edge.
“Let me go, Beauden,” I seethe. But honestly, I’m not sure that’s what I want at all.
His throat works but no sound comes out. And in a move so quick I barely have time to process it, he releases both my hands, cups my face, and kisses me like he’s been starving for me for years.
Everything about him is rough and raw. I stumble backward, clutching his thick forearms to keep my balance, but Beauden doesn’t let me fall. He holds on tight, anchoring us in that brutal tangle of teeth and tongues and longing that never really died.
My fingers fumble with his belt. His strong hands tug at my shirt. And somewhere in the chaos, I forget.
That I’m freezing and terrified.
That I’m exhausted and grieving.
And that I’m supposed to hate this man.
I almost come to my senses when he wrenches my pants down my legs and yanks off my shoes, but then he presses his face to my stomach, breathes in deep, and lets out a groan that turns the heat coiling inside me molten. It’s so… I can’t even think of the word because his mouth trails fire up the middle of my chest. And when his lips close around my sensitive nipple, I know I’m a lost cause.
Beauden presses rough kisses up my neck and jaw that awaken something inside me I thought was long dead. He takes my bottom lip between his teeth, the pain a perfect complement to the maelstrom inside me.
