by Leah Brooke
“What?” She twisted, but with her right hip plastered against Mason’s flat belly, she couldn’t see it. “Where else am I hurt? You never told me where the pilot is.”
It was so damned hard to focus.
Mason frowned and adjusted the temperature again, making the water a little warmer. “He’s being taken care of. Just be still, honey, and let me get you warmed up. You’re a little banged up, and probably have a concussion. We’re gonna have to keep an eye on you. Barrett put a waterproof tape over the gauze on your hip, which we’ll have to take off when we get out of here. I want to get it done before the painkiller wears off.”
Another voice came from the other side of the shower door. “We lit a fire. She’s probably not going to be able to dress in anything that she has in her suitcase, and Barrett wants to be able to get at her if he needs to. I got her one of my shirts and some thick socks. Quinn’ll bring the soup to her when she’s ready.”
The door opened, and the handsomest of the men, and the one with the kindest eyes, opened the shower door. “Hi. Remember me. I’m Grant. Grant Richards. How’s it going, Mace?” He slid a hand over Kendra’s thigh as though to test the temperature of her skin, apparently oblivious to the effect his touch had on her. “Is she feeling any warmer? She’s starting to look a little more focused.”
A little alarmed at the surge of heat that travelled straight to her slit, Kendra gritted her teeth, fighting the lethargy that seemed to drain her more and more as the adrenaline began to wear off. “I’m perfectly capable of answering questions about myself.”
Grant smiled, his eyes warming. “Sorry. You’ve been unconscious ever since we met you. I’m not used to speaking directly to you. Are you feeling any warmer?”
Kendra nodded. “Yes. Please put me down. I’d like to wash up and I’d like to be alone.”
When the two men shared a long look, she shook her head. “I’m fine. I’m not used to waking up after a plane crash and finding myself naked and surrounded by strange men. Please. Just let me have a few minutes alone.”
Mason was already shaking his head. “No. You’ll fall and rip out your stitches. You’re weak and probably dizzy. It’s about time to get out anyway.”
He glanced at Grant. “I keep repeating things, too. I’m not sure how much is going in right now.”
“I’m okay. I remember everything you say, but you won’t believe that I can stand up.” No matter how much she argued, Kendra found herself carried from the shower, dried, and carried back to the bed to be dressed in a huge sweatshirt. She had to admit that the large shirt covered most of her, coming almost to her knees.
Grant slid thick socks onto her feet, his gaze lingering on her legs. “I put everything in the dryer for a couple of minutes.” He smiled when she nearly purred at how good it felt. “That warm feels good, huh? We’ve got a blanket waiting for you down by the fire, and some hot soup.”
Kendra nodded, regretting it almost immediately when her stomach churned. “Thanks.”
Mason, still dressed in wet boxers, ran his hands over her back where he supported her. “She’s still a little dizzy. I have to keep helping her balance.”
“I’m fine.”
She sucked in a breath when Grant lifted her again. “I can walk.”
Grant settled her more firmly against him and turned. “No. I’ve got you. Let’s get you settled by the fire. Barrett’s going to want to keep a close eye on you.”
He lifted her with the same ease Mason had, the strength of both men apparent in the effortless way they moved, carrying her as though she weighed nothing.
Holding her against his chest as he moved toward the doorway, Grant smiled and gestured toward the fresh sheets. “It looks like Barrett and Quinn cleaned up. You sure scared the hell out of us.”
He continued out of the room and down a small hall to a flight of stairs. Once they got to the bottom, he made a left and went through a large doorway, emerging into the largest room Kendra had ever seen before. The high beamed ceiling, and the massive stone fireplace drew her attention first, the large, roaring fire making the room seem more intimate and cozy. “Holy hell. This room is bigger than my entire apartment.”
It appeared to be a family room, one that was decidedly masculine. She didn’t see a frill, a flower, or any feminine touches anywhere.
With her quick glance around the room, she noticed that everything was either dark brown, beige or black, the furniture heavy, overstuffed, and well worn.
The most masculine aspects of the room, though, were the men themselves.
Barrett waved a huge hand in the direction of a leather chair positioned in front of the fire. “Put her there.”
His deep baritone fit him perfectly, sparking a niggling memory of that voice close to her ear, the concern in it unmistakable.
She had the memory of being held closely, her face pressed against warmth as the wind howled all around her. The iceman. Tilting her head, she met his sharp gaze. “Did you carry me?”
Barrett’s eyes narrowed. “I held you while we rode back here on horseback. Do you remember that?”
Kendra tried to focus, but couldn’t remember anything else. “Kind of. I don’t know. I just remembered your voice. Were you covered in snow?”
“We all were. Especially you.” Grant settled her into the chair with a gentleness that surprised her and covered her with a soft dark brown blanket.
“Are you comfortable?”
Alarmed at the weakness that left her struggling to sit upright, Kendra fell back with a moan. “I’m fine, just a little weak and dizzy. Just give me a minute.”
“No hurry. You’re not going anywhere.” The dark, mean-looking man walked into the room carrying a tray. “Let’s get something hot into you.”
Grant smiled. “This is Quinn Phillips, and you’ve already met Barrett, remember? He appears to be glaring at you, but is probably just worried about his handiwork.”
Quinn set the tray of steaming food on the table next to her, and pulled another chair close. “It’s just some chicken soup and a sandwich. When was the last time you ate?”
Shifting restlessly under their stares, Kendra turned her head when Mason walked into the room, dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt. “I had a bagel this morning.” She looked toward the large wall on either side of the fireplace, surprised to see that it was an entire wall of windows. Her stomach clenched when she saw that it had gotten dark outside.
She looked around for a clock, but didn’t see one in front of her and didn’t have the energy to turn. “What time is it?”
Quinn gestured toward the tray he’d placed in front of her. “Almost eleven. Come on and eat a little something and we’ll get you settled for the night.”
Kendra stilled, looking down at her hands, surprised to see scratches and what appeared to be small burns. Flexing them experimentally, and surprised that they didn’t hurt, she looked up again. “Eleven at night?”
Quinn frowned. “Yes. Eat and then we’ll talk all you want.”
Grant retrieved an ottoman and placed it in front of her chair, reaching under the blanket. “Let’s get her more comfortable.”
His hot and slightly rough hands slid under her calves, and even though she watched him and had been expecting it, the shock of his hands on her skin made her jolt.
“Oh!” She couldn’t hold back a cry at the tug to her thigh, and grabbed at it automatically, fighting off the strong hands that held her in place.
Quinn cursed and yanked the tray back.
Grant leaned forward. “Don’t jump up, honey. Be still before you hurt yourself. Did I hurt you?”
Barrett cursed and came toward her, his hard features appearing even harder. “Damn it, if you rip those stitches, I’ll paddle your ass.”
Mason rubbed her upper arms before releasing her. “Barrett, take it easy.”
Kneeling in front of her, Barrett shoved the blanket aside. “Be still.”
Lifting the hem of the shirt she wore,
he exposed her all the way to her waist, his hand flattening over her thighs when she squirmed. “I told you to stay still.” He glanced up at Mason, his eyes narrowed. “It was bad enough sewing her up when she was unconscious. Do you really think I feel like doing it again when she’s wide awake?”
Trying to pull her borrowed shirt back down to cover herself, Kendra glared at him. “Stop it.”
Alarmed at her weakness, she tried to push against his hand, but she might as well have been trying to push a mountain.
Barrett’s large hand rested too close to her mound, looking dark and decidedly masculine next to her much paler skin.
His eyes met hers, so dark they appeared black. “We’ve seen and inspected every inch of you. You don’t have anything we haven’t seen and touched. Now, just be still a minute so I can make sure you didn’t do any damage.”
Struck that even weak and dizzy, his touch caused the stirring of arousal, Kendra gritted her teeth and glared at him. “I was unconscious. I didn’t have a choice.”
His dark brow went up. “I’ve got news for you, lady. You still don’t.” He smoothed a hand over the tape that completely covered the gauze. “The tape kept it dry. Once you’re in bed, I’ll take it off so it can breathe.”
Relieved when he smoothed the shirt back in place and straightened to his full height before moving away, Kendra met Grant’s look of concern.
“Why doesn’t it hurt more? It just aches a little.” Moving carefully, she helped him smooth the blanket over her legs again. “I mean, it did when I moved fast, but if I have stitches there, shouldn’t it hurt more?”
Mason smiled faintly. “I told you that Barrett shot you full of pain medicine and he numbed your thigh.” Frowning, he narrowed his eyes. “Unfortunately, you’re going to feel it later.”
Quinn set the tray on her lap again, balancing it before releasing it. “Eat.”
Kendra nodded and reached for her spoon, alarmed at how much effort it took and at how much her hand shook. She watched Quinn as he made his way back to the fireplace, a little surprised that a man who looked like a gunslinger had taken the trouble to fix her a bowl of soup.
She felt drawn to these men, and didn’t understand why.
Deciding it must be shock and the effects of the medication, she lifted a spoonful of the fragrant soup to her mouth and tried to ignore the shimmering warmth their hands had left behind.
* * * *
Grant remained poised to catch the tray on Kendra’s lap, concerned that she appeared weaker and more lethargic with each passing minute. Her voice, barely above a whisper now, came out shaky, and she’d begun to slur her words.
Now that the worst of the crisis had passed, he couldn’t help but stare at her, stunned by her incredible beauty.
He shot a glance at Barrett, who watched her like a hawk, the concern in his eyes also mingling with a sense of wonder.
Barrett glanced at him and nodded, keeping his voice low as his gaze slid back to Kendra. “Partly painkillers and partly adrenaline crash. I’ll wake her throughout the night for the concussion.” His voice held a different kind of tension now, one that surprised Grant.
The implication sent his mind reeling.
When the phone rang, Mason jolted, frowning as he tore his gaze from Kendra and left the room to answer it, leaving the three of them alone with her.
Seeing she seemed to be having trouble feeding herself, Grant leaned forward, taking the spoon from her, dipping it into the soup and lifting it to her lips.
“Do you feel up to answering some questions now?”
Kendra swallowed the soup, her eyes closed in apparent bliss as she swallowed. “If you answer one for me.”
The look of sublime pleasure on her face made his cock hard in an instant, the thought of what she would look like as he made love to her slamming into him.
Cursing himself for letting his imagination run away with him, Grant inclined his head and scooped up another spoonful of soup, willing to do whatever he could to get her to eat. Sucked in by her beautiful blue eyes and sensuous lips, he found himself staring, fascinated by the shots of gold gleaming in her hair as it dried. “Sure. What would you like to know?”
Kendra took a deep breath and let it out slowly, her eyes darting to each of them. “Each time I ask you, you all avoid the question. What happened to Sam, the pilot?”
“He’s dead.”
Her eyes widened at Barrett’s flat tone. “No.” A shudder went through her, making the tray on her lap shake. “He’d just gotten married. They wanted to buy a house.” She couldn’t believe he was dead. Her stomach clenched, her throat clogging with tears. “He was in love. His poor wife.”
Grant steadied the tray, shooting Barrett a warning look before turning back to her, and dropping the spoon into the bowl. Keeping his voice low and even, he touched her leg to get her attention, trying not to think about how much he’d love to explore the smooth skin over the rest of her body. “By the time we got to the crash site, the fire had already gone out. He was trapped in the wreckage. You were thrown free. If you hadn’t moaned, we probably wouldn’t have found you.”
Quinn, who’d carefully kept his distance from her since she’d regained consciousness, gestured toward her soup. “Eat, or I’ll feed you myself. You need something in your system. There’s nothing that can be done about the pilot. We called the authorities and they’re up there now taking care of everything.”
Kendra took the spoon and lifted a spoonful of soup to her lips, her hand shaking. “Do they know where I am?”
Grant steadied her hand and filled the spoon again. Lifting it to her lips, he smiled, hoping to ease the fear he could see clearly in her huge eyes. “Of course. Did you think we kidnapped you?”
Mason came back into the room and went straight to the small bar in the corner, poured himself a splash of whiskey, downed it, and then poured himself some more. “So what were you doing on that plane, Kendra? You haven’t mentioned anyone we should call. Is there anyone waiting for you?”
Surprised by Mason’s attitude, he looked toward him, but Mason stared at Kendra as he lowered himself to his usual seat and rested his glass against his thigh.
Turning his attention back to Kendra, Grant hoped like hell there wasn’t a man in her life. He’d noticed earlier that she didn’t wear a ring, but the thought of her belonging to someone else gave him a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.
Waiting anxiously for her answer, he couldn’t help but notice the rapt attention of the others.
They wanted her, too.
Something clicked into place for him, an idea that wouldn’t have made sense to him twenty-four hours ago.
It settled something inside him and filled a void that had been empty too long.
Suddenly, everything changed.
Amused at himself, he watched her, his heart swelling.
It was beyond crazy to imagine it, beyond crazy to want someone he barely knew.
It was there, though—a sense of finding something he’d been looking for his entire life.
Stupid. Ridiculous.
But it was there, and couldn’t be ignored.
* * * *
Thinking about the task ahead of her, Kendra sighed inwardly and dropped the spoon into the bowl, too exhausted to make the effort to try another bite.
Dropping her head back against the chair, she closed her eyes. “I should call my boss, I guess, although he’s not expecting to hear from me for a while. I was going to the Jagged Rock Ranch to try to talk the owners into listing the property. He has a buyer that apparently doesn’t understand the word no, and apparently the owners of the Jagged Rock aren’t interested in talking to a man. They want to list with a woman. I’m not supposed to go back until I get a signed contract.”
She tried not to think about rent payments, or that her car seemed to be constantly in for repair, or the fact that her boss had made several innuendoes about ways to get the owners to sell.
She’d eate
n hot dogs and macaroni and cheese for so long that she didn’t even remember what good food tasted like.
Breathing in the scent of the tantalizing soup, she reached for the spoon again, unable to resist. Aware of the silence, she looked up as she swallowed, biting back a moan at the heavenly taste. “I’m sorry. I was just thinking.”
The change in them sent a chill up her spine.
Quinn looked even colder than before, something she hadn’t thought possible.
Mason sipped his drink, staring at her over the rim of his glass, his eyes harder now, gleaming with a suspicion she didn’t understand.
Mason lowered his drink and glanced at each of the other men before turning his attention back to her, his blue eyes like chips of ice. “I just got off the phone with the sheriff. They’re still working at the site. He asked how our patient is, and I told him that we were taking care of her. The blizzard’s ahead of schedule and he won’t be able to get to us until they get the roads clear.”
Barrett turned his attention from her to look at Mason searchingly. “It doesn’t matter. She’s fine here, and by the time he gets here in a couple of days, she’ll be feeling much better.”
Eyeing Mason curiously, Grant sat back and got to his feet. “It’s late. We’d better get her settled for the night.”
Barrett came forward and tossed the blanket aside before lifting her high against his chest. Without a word, he strode from the room and started up the huge wooden staircase, apparently completely oblivious to the havoc his touch wreaked on her senses.
She felt small and fragile in his arms, tiny against his massive chest. Everywhere she touched him warmed, the sizzling sensation like little electric shocks. Looking up into his harsh features, she kept her arms crossed over her chest, amazed and mortified that her nipples pebbled against the soft shirt. She tried to hold herself stiff in his arms, but the warm, delicious feeling proved an impossible lure.
He looked down at her, his eyes narrowed, and what looked suspiciously like amusement glittered in them. “Is something wrong?”
“No.”
He blinked at her clipped tone, but continued up the stairs.