“Don’t call methat!”
“Then stop acting like some valiant prince is going to ride in and rescue you any minute now. This isn’t a fairy tale. There is no happy ending here. And I’m sure as hell not yourprince.”
“You’ve made that abundantlyclear.”
“Good.”
“Good!”
Fuming with anger, we’re both leaning forward into the fire, drawn together by the heat of our argument. I’m so close to the flames, I’m surprised my hair hasn’t gone up in smoke. With effort, I settle back against my tree and slow my breathing to a normal tempo. He leans back against his at the same time, slinging one arm across his knee and staring at me with something like amusement. I’d like nothing more than to smack that expression right off hisface.
His smug, superior, annoyingly attractiveface.
Ugh! How does he manage to get under my skin soquickly?
Turning my back to him, I shove my backpack into a ball and plunk my head down on top of it. It’s barely dark outside, but I don’t care. If sleep is the only option for escaping his company, I’ll gladly close my eyes and surrender. I just hope I don’t find myself dreaming of green eyes and lush lips and infuriating sparring sessions that leave me breathless with rage and somethingelse.
Something I’m afraid to look at too closely, even in the dimfirelight.
* * *
Istirawake to the sensation of my frigid body being repositioned against the hard-packed earth. The first thing I become aware of is the biting cold. Every inch of exposed skin feels frozen to the bone. Icy winds whip strands of hair across my face. My eyes sliver open to the dark sky overhead. The stars are concealed by a dense cloud-cover, blanketing the world in pitch black. The fire’s burned out in the gale. Still half-asleep, a weak sound of discontent slides from my lips as large hands shift me onto myside.
“Shh. It’s me.” A familiar male voice hits my ears as a body moves closer. “I heard youshivering.”
“Beck?”
“Christ, you’re colder than aglacier.”
“The fire…” Imurmur.
“I can’t build it any higher. In this wind, there’s no way to keep it contained. One spark could send our whole camp up inflames.”
Another mewl of discomfort slips out as a gust blows cold sand into my eyes. I close them and duck my head to my chest, curling in on myself forwarmth.
“It’s so cold,” I whisper, teethchattering.
“I know. Ithought…”
He breaks off, clearly torn about something. A second later, a huge, hesitant hand lands on my hipbone. I hear a sharp intake of air from his lips as soon as he makes contact. Half-asleep, I can barely fathom what itmeans.
Slowly, so slowly I think it might be a fragment of a dream, the hand moves from my hip to my stomach and pulls my body backward. My spine hits a solid wall of muscle andwarmth.
Abruptly, I’m veryawake.
“…Beck?”
His name is a question and a plea, all rolled intoone.
“It will be warmer this way.” His voice is rougher than usual. Laced with a new edge I’ve never heard before. He’s so close, I hear him swallow against my ear. I’m sure he can hear my heart beating. “Unless…” He takes a breath. “Unless you’d rather tough it outalone.”
I open my eyes again and stare into the dark. I can feel every indentation of his warm chest against my back, every strong plane of his thigh muscles pressed against mine. We fit like we were made to lie together, his larger frame tailor-made to complement to my slighterone.
In his arms I feel that same, strange sensation that commandeered my system the moment he first said my name on the raft, and again later when he laced our hands together on thebeach.
Somehow, when he’s touching me, all our simmering animosity falls away and what’s left behindis…
Something good. Something right. Somethingreal.