“Emotionally? Deeply.”
His gaze moved over me again, more focused now. Clinical. Unfortunately, still hot. “You hit anything?”
“My pride definitely took a beating.”
“Anything else?”
I paused. “…maybe a rock? A couple of them.”
“Where?”
“My leg?”
“You asking me?”
“It was a traumatic event.”
The sound of shouting carried from the river as the raft caught up with me. One of the guides yelled, “She okay?”
Before I could answer, the giant mountain man stood.
“She’s fine,” he called back, even as his attention swept down my flushed face before landing on my leg.
I sat up straighter, realizing they weren’t stopping. “They aren’t coming to get me?”
He stood there, towering over me, hands at his sides. “Do you want to go back on the water?”
“No. Definitely not.”
“Then no. They aren’t coming back for you.” He knelt back down, his big arms resting on his big thighs. “Can you stand?”
“Yes.”
I tried getting up as gracefully as I could. Which wasn’t very. I realized instantly the wet rocks were probably in cahoots with the river. A shriek escaped me before his arms caught me around the waist. I grabbed his shoulders, fingers digging into muscle that had no give to it at all.
Here was the thing about being a curvy woman in a moment like this. I knew exactly how much of me was now pressed against him. All of it. Everywhere. My soft body against his solid one. Every generous curve of me announcing itself. I braced for the subtle shift, the barely-there adjustment men made when they registered who was in their arms.
He didn’t shift. He just held me. Like I was simply a person he’d caught. My brain had no file for that, but it did recognize he held me for exactly one second longer than he had to. I felt that all the way to my toes. And other places, none of which had any business responding during a near-death rescue.
“I’m fine,” I said. “I just need a second.” He didn’t let go. Smart man, as it turned out. Because the second I shifted my weight the world tilted sideways in a way that had nothing to do with the rocks beneath my feet. A rushing sound filled my ears. The tree line went soft at the edges. I started to shiver — I knew it was from shock and the cold of the river.
“Eyes on me.” His voice came from somewhere far away. His hands tightened on my waist. I was trying hard to stay upright and losing the argument with my legs.
“I think.” I started to say something but the next thing I knew I was up in his arms, against the solid wall of his chest and the absurd, unhurried steadiness of his heartbeat under my ear.
CHAPTER TWO
GARRICK
I did the only thing I could.
I picked her up. One arm beneath her back, the other under her knees.
For a moment, I just stood there. The river was behind me. My fishing gear lay on the bank where I’d abandoned it when I’d heard her first scream. She’d called me Bigfoot and now had her arms laced around my neck like she…
I was not finishing that thought.
I turned away from the river and up the trail. It would split in a few yards. One way toward the rafting office, one toward my cabin. Something protective rolled through me and for a moment, I considered taking her there. I could bandage her cut. Get her warm.