Silence of the Wolf(58)

“I bet you say that to all the girls… you rescue.”

He chuckled. “You think that’s what we do on ski patrol?”

She smiled again.

“How are you really holding up?” He applied some ointment on the scraped skin around her wrists.

She sighed, the shivers lessening. “Better. Thank you.”

He wrapped the blanket around her. Then he zipped his coat up to her throat. “Good,” he said, but he didn’t like how cold she still was.

He began to clean up the gash on her forehead using a damp cloth. “It isn’t too bad. Head wounds bleed a lot, so they can look really awful.”

She grimaced as he wiped the blood away too close to the injury.

“Sorry.” He cleaned her blood-matted hair as much as he could, then bandaged the cut on her forehead. “Nothing needs stitches. Your toes look good. Color’s coming back. The same with your fingers.”

She licked her lips. “Teeth,” she said wearily.

He didn’t want to discover that she had any missing or broken teeth. “Open your mouth.”

She did, and he looked inside and smiled. “Great set of teeth. Nothing broken. Nothing missing.”

“Good,” she said. “Where are we?”

“My brothers and I own this cabin up in the mountains. I was up here tracking when the blizzard hit and I heard your plane crash. Do you… want to tell me about the handcuffs?”

Elizabeth stared at Tom for a minute, wondering why he would ask her about them. Then she realized he probably thought she was some kind of criminal.

Tom studied her, but she couldn’t read his expression. He had the most beautiful brown eyes with amber flecks of light that sparkled from the flames flickering in the fireplace. He was a handsome devil of a wolf, his face a little flushed from the heat, his hair a little longish, and a couple of days’ growth of beard making him look even more sexy. And she realized just how much she’d missed him.

A prince of wolves? He was that.

Her gaze trailed down his naked chest. She’d thought he was planning to strip and get naked with her until he put his warm shirt around her. It smelled so deliciously of him—the great outdoors, musky male, and wolf. She was glad he hadn’t bothered to put on another shirt to hide his chest.

He gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and said, “Elizabeth.”

Her gaze shifted back to his. She’d forgotten the question.

“The handcuffs?” he asked gently.

Oh. “Prisoner,” she rasped out. As soon as his eyes widened fractionally, she realized her mistake. Annoyed with herself, she frowned and cleared her dry throat. “Hostage.”

His expression changed subtly, transforming from annoyed wariness to surprise.

“Hmm. We’ll talk about this later. You need to get some hot drink and food down.”

He sounded as though he didn’t believe her. She needed him to. As tired as she was, she didn’t care even to give it a try right now. Later, there would be time enough.

“I’ll get you some hot tea and some venison chili if that sounds good.” He still crouched beside her, not moving, until she nodded slightly. “Will you be all right?”

“Yes, thank you,” she said, her voice just a whisper. She wanted to fall asleep, to make all the hurts go away, to wake up at home in her own bed—with Tom in it—and her steaks in the fridge waiting for her to make a meal of them.

He caressed her uninjured cheek with the tips of his fingers in such a sympathetic way that it touched her deeply.

“You’ll be all right.” He spoke matter-of-factly, as though he knew what he was talking about.

He rose, looked at her for a while longer, then turned and walked across the living-room floor and into the kitchen. She felt alone and needy in a way she’d never felt before. She wanted to be with him, to share the space with him, to feel his body heat close to hers.

Without the energy to get up and join Tom in the kitchen, she observed him instead—the way his muscles stretched in his back and arms as he pulled open cabinets and found a pan, then moved to the stove.

From the kitchen, he said, “Did you know I tried calling you?”

“Not at first.”

Holding the pan, he stopped and stared at her.

“I don’t use my phone much. I had turned it off on the flight home and forgot to turn it back on,” she said with effort.

“So you didn’t know that I’d called?” Tom asked, sounding doubtful and somewhat upset that he thought she had been avoiding him.

She looked away uncomfortably and instead took stock of what she could see from the floor of the living room—a large forest-green sectional couch blocked the view of the rest of the room. With all the pillows stacked on the velvety couch, it looked comfortable and inviting. Being as close to the fire as he could keep her so she could warm up more quickly was probably for the best. But that couch had its appeal.