Chill

by Stephanie Rowe

  “I’m on it.” He pulled her upright and settled her between his thighs so she was resting against his chest.

  Even through the soaked sweatshirt, she could feel the heat from his body and she tried to push herself harder against him.

  Modesty and propriety didn’t make either of them hesitate, and she held up her arms as he dragged the sodden material over her head. He jerked his own shirt off next, and he immediately wrapped his arms around her, pulling her back against his chest.

  His arms were doubled around her. She could feel him trembling as well, and his skin was cold, but beneath his flesh was heat. Warmth she couldn’t generate herself. “God, you feel good.” She wanted to get closer.

  “Pants. Lie down.” He shifted her so she was on her back and unfastened her jeans.

  The light was dim, but not so dark Luke couldn’t see her. Sudden heat flushed through her as Luke worked the drenched material over her hips. She was still trembling violently, her insides shaking as if they were going to rattle right out of her belly, and yet she was aware of each inch of exposed flesh as Luke pulled off her jeans.

  He looked up at her face as he pulled them over her feet, and his gaze was intense. So intense.

  He didn’t break their connection as he stripped out of his own jeans and underwear, and then he was crawling back over her. Naked. As she was, except for her bra and her thong underwear.

  She was so cold, and suddenly she didn’t care that they were almost naked. The wet material was like ice. She fumbled for the straps, but she couldn’t make her hands work. “My bra. Get it off.”

  Luke moved fast, ditching her final garments with swift efficiency. Then he was above her again, his knees on either side of her hips as he snagged the blankets. His thighs were icy and his body trembling almost as much as hers was. He shifted his weight as he tossed the blankets over him and wrapped the worn fabric around them, tucking the edges beneath her.

  And then he settled himself on her naked body so they were skin to skin from head to toe.

  It was too intimate, too romantic, and it was the only thing that was going to save her life.

  So she wrapped her arms around him and welcomed his weight, his heat and his body. She pulled him closer until he was blanketing her in the most sensual, erotic embrace of her life.

  Except, of course, for the fact that her teeth were chattering uncontrollably and she couldn’t stop shaking.

  “Hey, Isa.” Luke slid his arms beneath her shoulders and wrapped her up in an all-consuming embrace. She buried her face in his muscular shoulder and shuddered against him as he tangled his legs with hers. Thigh to thigh. Their calves were entwined. His feet were wrapped around hers. “You’re okay. We’re safe now.”

  But as the words left his mouth, she heard the roar of the plane again. “They know,” she whispered. She started to shake again, this time from fear. “I can’t go back in the water. I’ll never survive it.”

  “I know.” Luke tightened his arms around her and pulled her closer with his legs. “We’re not going in again.”

  His skin was warm now, and she felt heat beginning to build between them. The warmth was starting to penetrate the deathly chill trying to consume her. She thought he was still trembling, but she was shaking so hard she wasn’t sure whether it was him or her.

  Luke pulled the blanket over their heads, enveloping them in darkness. “Listen to me, Isa.” His voice was low and confident. Unworried. “If they knew we were on the boat, they’d have dropped someone on here by now. They’re still trying to find us.”

  The air beneath the blanket began to heat up, and Isabella took a deep breath, inhaling the warm heat. “They’ll check the boat, won’t they? I mean, where else could we be?”

  “Hey.” He rested his cheek against hers, and she snuggled closer to his heat. She craved more of his warmth. She needed him to quell the aching coldness in her body. “They’ll drop someone to search the shore for us first. The odds are higher that we went to land.”

  His breath was hot against her neck, and her tremors were lessening. “So, you think they won’t check the boat?”

  Luke settled deeper onto her, and her legs slipped apart as he slid his own between them. She tucked her feet around his thighs to pull him closer, trying desperately not to think of the intimacy of their position.

  It was dark under the blanket, and the rhythmic pitch of the boat kept rocking them against each other, building a tempo between them.

  “They’ll come back for the boat,” Luke said. “If it’s Leon, he’ll check it out before leaving.”

  “So what do we do?” She wiggled her arms out from under his weight and wrapped them around his neck, hugging tightly. He felt so good she didn’t want to let go. She didn’t want him to move.

  “We’ll be gone by then. The minute they go back upstream to drop searchers, we’ll jet.”

  She nodded, not bothering to ask where exactly they were going to go. She had a feeling Luke didn’t know yet, but that he’d create the opportunity when it was time, just as he had in the river.

  She shuddered as her muscles began to relax. Despite the constant hum of the airplane as it searched the river for them, she felt safe. Luke’s body was heavy, and his strength was obvious. He’d kept them alive in the water, and she still remembered the sensation of him tossing her up into Inite’s arms, despite his own exhaustion and depletion. He was smart and strategic, keeping them just ahead of their pursuers.

  And now…he was bringing her back to life with the heat of his body.

  In the darkness of their shelter, with the intimacy of their position…it felt surreal. A special world where rules didn’t apply. She felt close to him. Bonded. Intimate in a way she’d never been with anyone, not in her whole life.

  It was a fleeting moment. A sensation that would fade the moment they pulled back the blanket and faced the world again. She knew her sense of isolation would come back. And Luke would still refuse to help her save Marcus. He would still leave, and she knew she couldn’t count on him.

  Right now, though, he was staying where he was, and she knew, with absolute certainty, he would never leave her behind on this boat. And that felt good. Really, really good.

  She wanted to live this moment. Make it the most she could, so she could relive it again and again, and remember what it felt like to be safe, truly safe.

  So she would never forget her ultimate goal, to find a home and security. To create a life for herself in which she would feel safe, secure and loved every day, every hour, every second of her life.

  He shifted his weight, lifting off of her slightly. “Am I too heavy?”

  “No!” She used her legs to pull his hips back down on top of her, and he came willingly. Only this time, she felt the first hints of the hardness of his erection as he settled between her legs again.

  Excitement pulsed deep inside her core, and she knew she should shift and move him to the side. But she didn’t want to. She didn’t want to lose this moment and the intense feeling it gave her. “Luke?”

  “Yeah.” He adjusted his hips and nestled himself deeper between her thighs. The tip of his penis was resting right against the crevice at the top of her inner thigh. So close. Just a shift and he’d be inside.

  But he was utterly still.

  She sensed he was waiting.

  For what?

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Luke wanted to be inside her.

  More than he’d ever wanted any woman in his entire life.

  His quads were tense, vibrating with the effort of not making that final movement. Her body felt amazing beneath him. Her breasts were crushed against his chest. Her left foot was making small circles on the back of his calf, and he had a feeling she wasn’t even aware she was doing it. Her skin smelled amazing. No more scent of lavender. She simply smelled like herself. Like damp skin, with the faintest aroma of something sweet, getting more intense as she warmed up.

  She slid her fingers into his hair, and he
closed his eyes at the sensation. A gentle, tentative touch exploring his head. It wasn’t a caress. Not yet. It was an exploration, an instinct. He knew what she was feeling.

  He needed to touch her as well.

  Hell, he’d needed to touch her since the first moment he’d seen her in the bar. But now that he’d seen her courage, her vulnerabilities, she was so much more. He didn’t just want to be inside her. He needed it.

  “Luke?”

  Something trembled inside him at the sound of her voice. So soft, so feminine, low pitched with the background music of delicate bells. “Yeah.”

  “Why do you hate your dad?”

  Luke tensed, and he felt that all-too-familiar hardness boil in his chest. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  She moved, and he jumped at the sudden sensation of her hands on his cheeks. “Luke,” she whispered, “I need to know what Marcus is really like. I need to understand why I have a bullet in my shoulder and why Ren’s grandson was taken.”

  They were the words he’d wanted to hear. The green light to set her straight, so she could take back her life. But now that he had the opportunity…shit. He didn’t want to break through that golden bubble she’d erected around herself. Damn Marcus for being such a bastard and not being worthy of this woman’s love.

  She stroked his cheek lightly. “I can handle a lot, Luke. It makes me stronger to get information and to know what I’m facing.”

  Shit. He could have said those words himself. He was always hungry for information, and information had been his weapon his whole life. How could he turn that down?

  He put his hand over hers and squeezed.

  She responded in kind, and he focused on that sensation, the physical connection with another human being. A liberty he hadn’t allowed himself in so long.

  And then he thought of the story he’d never told to anyone.

  The one he hadn’t even allowed himself to revisit.

  The past that had been off limits for so long was finally about to be put back on the table.

  He began to talk.

  Luke released Isabella’s hand, and she sensed he was putting distance between them.

  She felt the loss of his touch, but she didn’t hold on. She knew what it was like to need distance.

  “I was eight years old,” Luke said. “Sound asleep in my room.”

  He fell quiet then, and she sensed he was revisiting something. “Luke?”

  He shifted his weight. “Sorry. I was remembering my room. Haven’t thought about it in a long time.”

  Isabella ran her finger through his hair. “Lots of toys, I bet.”

  He snorted. “Yeah, all in the closet. Marcus had a fit if I trashed my room. Too much money spent on the decor.”

  Isabella’s heart tightened for the boy who hadn’t been allowed to be a child. She sensed there was far more weight to his childhood than messing up his room. “Your dad didn’t play with you?”

  Luke made another noise of disgust. “Marcus, play? He was working all the time. He’d been dirt poor his whole life, and he was working his ass off to become rich as hell. He opened his business right after I was born, and he was working 24/7 on that thing.”

  “What about your mom?”

  “My mom.” Luke’s voice completely changed, and she wished she could see his face. He sounded so tender, so soft. “She was the best. She was so different from Marcus. So loving. So gentle. She didn’t partake in his world, and we just did our own thing.”

  Isabella’s throat tightened. “My mom was like that,” she said. “She was my best friend.”

  His hand cupped her chin. “She died?”

  “Yes.” Tears surged, and she had to blink them back. “But we’re talking about you now, not me. Tell me about that night. What happened?”

  “That night.” His voice had gone flat again and she felt his body stiffen against hers. “My mom woke me up. She was still in her nightgown and I could tell she was terrified.” There was no emotion in his voice, just a hard shield. “She said we had to go. I didn’t have time to pack. She grabbed my hand and we ran down the hall.” His voice grew distant, as if he were remembering. “I could hear an argument downstairs. Men yelling. My dad shouting. My dad never raised his voice. Ever. Scared the hell out of me to hear him yelling.”

  Isabella could see it in her mind. The little boy racing down the massive hall in his pajamas, clinging to his mother. God, she’d lived with that kind of fear so much. It was awful.

  “We got in her car and peeled out of there. My mom’s hands were shaking, and she wouldn’t tell me where we were gong. She just said Marcus had gotten into trouble and we needed to go away for a while.” There was an edge to his voice now, a bitterness.

  She wanted to touch him so badly, to comfort him, but she didn’t dare. “And then what happened?”

  “We hopped a plane to the Caribbean. Camped out on some beach. Had a little bungalow.”

  Her heart began to race in fear of the ugly finale she sensed was coming.

  “It was just before dawn that they came,” Luke said. This time, there was emotion in his voice. Pain. “I was out on the beach fishing for crabs. Should’ve been in the cabin with my mom, but I was tired of her crying and acting so scared, so I snuck out. Ditched her. Then a black jeep drove up. There were four of them. I could see the faces of only two, but I’d seen them in my dad’s office before. I wasn’t supposed to talk to anyone my dad worked with. So I stayed in the water while they went into the cabin. Then I heard her scream.”

  Isabella set her hand on his face, and he pulled away.

  “I started running for the bungalow. She was screaming again and again. Not for me. Just screaming with agony. With pain. With suffering.”

  Tears filled her eyes, but she said nothing, sensing he wanted no comfort or sympathy. She had to fist her hands to keep from reaching out for him.

  “I got to the door and ran inside. She was on the floor, covered in gashes. So much blood. Jesus, there was so much blood.” His breath was coming heavier now, and his body was slick with sweat between her thighs. “I tackled the nearest one, but he just threw me aside. I landed next to my mother. She was gasping for air at this point, and she grabbed me and she told me she loved me. That she would always love me. And then she said he hadn’t meant to endanger her. That he hadn’t meant to do it. That I should forgive him and let him take care of me.”

  “He?” The word stuck in her throat.

  “Marcus.” Luke spat the word. “Before I could respond, before I could even say I loved her, one of the guys yanked me away, and I realized I’d fucked up. That I’d forgotten to protect her. But it was too late. He held me. Told me to watch. Told me to take the message back to Marcus.”

  Isabella closed her eyes.

  “And then he shot my mother in the head.”

  Luke hadn’t felt the pain in decades.

  Hadn’t smelled that metallic scent of blood.

  Hadn’t heard the anguish in his mother’s voice.

  And now it was back.

  All back.

  As if he were eight years old again.

  He dropped his head, trying to find his protections again. To shut it down before it could debilitate him. Had to—

  Isabella’s fingers brushed over his cheeks. The lightest touch. Barely there. So tender. So tentative. So fragile. “Luke.”

  He didn’t move. He just lay there, concentrating on the feel of her skin against his. It felt good. So good. She was alive. She was life. She was courage. Somehow, he doubted Isabella would lie down and let someone work her over like his mother had. She would fight, and she wouldn’t stop until she’d won.

  Isabella was different.

  She tugged lightly on his chin and he allowed her to turn his head. She kissed him, and he froze at the sudden, intimate touch. A feathering and then it was gone.

  A deep need roared to life inside him. “Isa.” He tunneled his fingers into her hair and tugged her face toward his. He neede
d to wipe away the memories with the touch of her flesh, the kiss of her lips, the courage that vibrated in her very core. He didn’t give her a chance to stop him or to doubt her own response. He just lowered his head and took her the way he wanted to.

  Her mouth was hot and wet, and she kissed him back greedily. No hesitation. His body lurched at her instant response, and suddenly there was nothing stopping him. His kiss deepened, and she met his assault with equal fervor and desperation.

  She slipped her arms around his neck, holding so tightly he was surprised by her strength. It felt good, damn good, to have her hanging on to him, as if she were trying to get closer, to deepen the kiss. He ran his hand down her side. Her skin was so soft, her body firm and muscled, but with all the curves of a woman.

  “Isa.” He growled her name and yanked her closer. Kissed her hard. No more seduction. Just a raw wanting. A need. For her. Her kiss and her touch were more powerful than the memories. Her kiss was about life and Isa was about survival.

  She wasn’t weak and afraid like his mother had been.

  Isa was a fighter. “You’re so strong,” he whispered, as he kissed his way down her neck. “You’re so sexy. So courageous.”

  She tunneled her fingers in his hair. “I’m scared all the time.”

  “Doesn’t matter.” He kissed her breast, then pressed his lips to her nipple.

  She made a small noise and arched her back. “Except with you,” she whispered. “Sometimes you make me feel safe.”

  “I swear I’ll keep you safe.” Luke kissed his way along her ribs, across her belly. “I won’t let anything happen to you.” How right those words felt. The idea of being responsible for another woman had been his worst nightmare for years, and yet it felt so right to claim Isabella’s safety as his own.

  He needed that.

  He needed to protect her.

  To stop the cycle of violence with her.

  She was his respite. Somehow, he knew if he could save her, the demons would be gone. “Isa.” He growled her name and took her mouth in his again. His kiss was ravenous now. A ruthless assault on her, and when she responded, his whole body amped up.