Page 32 of Mountain Rescue
“Never thought you did.” He rose and stepped around Bella. “See this?” He took her hand and flattened her palm against his cheek, over the scar, keeping his pressed over hers. “I can’t stand to be touched anymore, not even by my mom, the person I love most in the world.” With his free hand, he tugged on the tip of his hair. “I need a haircut, but the thought of someone’s hands on me makes my stomach turn over.”
What? He’d never given any sign that he didn’t want her touching him. She tried to jerk her hand away, but he tightened his grip.
“Funny thing, though. I like you touching me.” His eyebrows furrowed, puzzlement on his face. “Why is that?”
“I don’t know,” she whispered. His admission was a weight she wasn’t sure she wanted. She didn’t even want to think of the implications of that if her touch was the only one he could tolerate for the rest of his life. She almost laughed at the importance she’d just assigned herself. His avoidance of touch was only a temporary result of what he’d endured. It would pass, and the day would come when she would be a distant memory.
“I don’t either,” he said, his fingers still wrapped around her hand.
She wanted to wrap her arms around this man and hold him until he believed he was safe from ever being hurt again. She couldn’t feel him the way she could other people, but she felt his pain the way a normal person would. “What are you saying?” Did he like that he could tolerate her touch? Not like it?
His gaze captured hers. “I want you, Rachel.”
“But?” She had definitely heard abutin there.
He let go of her hand, then traced her bottom lip with his finger. “But...” He glanced away for a few seconds before his eyes found hers again. “I don’t know if I can handle that much closeness.”
Red tinged his cheeks, and she realized that admission had been hard for him. Her embarrassment at being so forward vanished. “I understand.” She lifted onto her toes and brushed her lips over his. “I’m going to bed.” She stepped back, gave him a smile, then turned to leave.
“Rachel.”
She paused and glanced over her shoulder. “Yeah?” She liked when he called her wildcat, but when he said her name in that soft way, her insides went all marshmallowy.
“Maybe we could work up to something happening. Test my boundaries.”
“Right now?” Lord help her, there was that lethal smile.
He didn’t answer as he strode up to her. “Only this.” He lowered his mouth to hers. He didn’t touch her anywhere else, didn’t put his hands on her. Yet, when he teased his tongue along the seam of her lips and she opened for him, when nothing but their mouths were pressed together and their tongues tangled, it was one of the most sensual things she’d ever experienced with a man.
Too soon, he pulled away. “Good night, wildcat.”
“Good night, cowboy.” Her feet didn’t want to move, didn’t want to leave him, but she forced them to walk away.
“I almost forgot,” he said when she reached the door to her room. “We have a meeting in the morning with Jack and Noah.”
“Okay. What time?”
“Plan to leave here at nine.”
“See you in the morning.” Bella was pressed against his leg. “Good night, Bella Boo.” She smiled, then went in her room, and after closing the door, she leaned back against it.
A part of her wanted to wrap her arms around him and promise no one would ever hurt him again. The other part, her smarter side, thought she should run as far from him as possible. He was dangerous to her heart.
“How many are in your camp?” the interpreter said, translating the question.
“My name is Dallas Manning. My rank is—”
The interrogator, the biggest and meanest of his captors, hit him so hard that he heard the crunch of bone in his nose. Dallas squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his lips together to keep from giving them the satisfaction of hearing him scream. White stars exploded behind his eyelids, and he swallowed hard to keep from losing the meager bite of food he’d consumed before they dragged him out of his cell.
“Where is your camp located?”
“My name is Dallas Manning.” Since he still had his eyes closed, he didn’t see the knife coming at his face. It was only because of the slight change in the air that he jerked his face to the side. That move had saved his eye, but the pain of his cheek being sliced open was impossible to silently bear and he screamed.
Dallas shot straight up in bed and gulped air into his lungs. He shoved the covers aside, dropped to the floor, and did pushups, emptying his mind of anything but counting.
Three hundred, three hundred one, two, three, four...What was that noise?
He paused with his face halfway to the floor, listening. The dog’s crying almost sounded like a baby. “Bella?” She whined again. He rolled over and reached for the bedside lamp, turning it on. The dog was curled up in the corner of the room, shaking as hard as she had the first time he’d seen her. Shit, he’d scared her.
