Page 20 of Her Reluctant Hero
Shepard as a pillow. That would be about as comfortable as a rock. But he would anchor her. Reluctantly, she edged closer so they were hip to hip. He shifted his arm so he could loop it over her shoulders, holding her against his side. She had no choice but to relax back against his shoulder. Hard, just like she thought.
She’d never slept with a man’s arms around her, never experienced this level of intimacy. Why did she have to realize that now? She’d never get to sleep.
“How are your hands?” she asked so she wouldn’t be focused on the rhythm of his breathing, the rise and fall of his chest that suddenly consumed her field of vision.
“Good. How are your feet?”
Liar. “Peachy.”
“I’ll check them before we leave.” His chest rumbled with the words. “I’d have you take off your shoes right now, but no telling what the blood might attract.”
She was definitely not going to get any sleep thinking about that. “How long till we can get in contact with the rest of your crew?”
“I’ll try again in the morning. One step at a time, Goddess.”
“Okay.” His voice, his words, were soothing, along with the steadiness of his heartbeat beneath her cheek. She fell asleep almost immediately.
The goddess was drooling. That was the only explanation for the wet patch under his nipple, right about where her mouth was.
He’d awakened himself after two hours of sleep. He wanted to be out of the tree before nightfall and he had to rebandage his hands and her feet.
She was so relaxed against him, one hand sprawled across his belly, one leg thrown across his.
And she was drooling. The sleep of the innocent.
He, however, had a hard-on. He thought about putting her palm over his erection, be the asshole she thought he was. But then he’d be just like her. Goddamn her.
Now that he’d found his anger again and let it supplant any tenderness, he could wake her. He shoved at her shoulder.
“Come on, Goddess. Time to get moving.”
She didn’t move, at first, just made a soft sound of protest that shot to his groin. Christ.
He shoved harder. “Isabella. We have to go.”
She curled into herself, dragging her fingers across his stomach, her leg along his.
“Please. A little longer,” she said in a husky voice.
“No time.” He kept his tone as sharp as necessary to penetrate her sleep. Had he been too soft with her before? Did she think he wasn’t in charge here? “Let’s go.”
She sat up slowly, wiping drool from the corner of her mouth with the shoulder of her shirt. Her face reddened when she saw the wet patch on his shirt. At least she wasn’t looking at the bulge in his pants.
“Can you get down by yourself? I have to pee.” He pushed her away till no part of her was touching him, then he started down without waiting for her answer.
The jungle was scary as hell at night. The sounds, the cries of the animals that lived there, intensified. Even though she couldn’t see all the animals during the day, not being able to see them at night was more frightening.
Shepard wasn’t talking again. Had she only imagined his kindness earlier? But no, she hadn’t been tired enough to dream something that couldn’t have happened, and she’d awakened in his arms, after he’d offered himself as her pillow. She hadn’t imagined that. What had happened while she was sleeping?
She hated the silence, though. It left her head too full of her own thoughts and fears. She had to talk, to hear another voice, or go crazy. So she hit upon a topic of conversation.
“Tell me about her,” she said.
He whipped his head around. “What?”
“Tell me about your girl. The one who is so much more deserving than I am.”
He grunted and continued forward. “I don’t want to talk.”
