Storm Watch(33)

Jason pulled off her rain poncho, then the sweatshirt beneath, leaving her in just the T-shirt he’d given her, which clung to her like she’d just competed at a wet T-shirt frat party. He crouched down to untie her soaked shoes, lifting each foot to pull them off, along with her socks while she stood there and shivered.

“With the power still out,” he said. “There’s no hot water. No dryer. We’ll spread the clothes out and rest while they dry.”

“I’ve seen the movies.” She looked down at the top of his head. “You’re going to strip me, then give me a line about hypothermia and use it to get me into bed.”

Still crouched in front of her, he raised his head and flashed a set of teeth in the dimming light. “Damn, you’re onto me.”

His mouth was smiling, trying to make light of what wasn’t a light situation at all, but his gaze didn’t even make the attempt. His eyes were dark, bleak and full of concern.

For her.

Oh, damn. He was still her greatest fantasy. “You know, I’ve seen hypothermia in people who’ve been out in far less than we’ve been.”

Straightening, he slid his hands up and down her arms. “Does this mean you will crawl into bed with me?”

“Maybe. For the greater good and all.” She reached for his sweatshirt, lifting it past his mouth-watering abs, pushing the material up until he took over, tugging it off. Her breath caught at his bare torso, hard and rippled with sinew. “We need to follow the rules regarding hypothermia,” she said softly, her fingers running over the tattoo along his biceps.

“Rules?” he asked a little unsteadily.

“You have to take off everything.”

“Far be it for me to break the rules.” Lending a helping hand, he made quick work of the T-shirt and tugged down her pants, leaving her in only her bra and panties as he kicked off his own shoes. “Christ, you are beautiful.”

And with him looking at her like that, she felt it, but suddenly, without the clothes, she got even colder, and her shivering became violent and involuntary.

Jason saw the change and immediately the sense of play left his face. He pulled her to him. “Okay, now we’re getting serious. Warming you up, and then sleep. Sleep before anything.”

“I just don’t think I can.”

He scooped her up. “Sure you can. It’ll be dark in a few minutes.” He set her on the bed. “With the power out, it’ll be pitch-black. We can’t do anything more until daylight anyway.” He yanked down the covers and nudged her onto the mattress.

“K-kay,” she said through her chattering teeth. “But only for a few minutes.”

“A few hours,” he corrected, stripping off his pants, getting into the bed with her, tugging the blankets over both of them. Then he pulled her in, deliciously warm and strong. “Sleep,” he commanded.

She opened her mouth to tell him she didn’t follow orders, but he felt so toasty that she sighed instead, and snuggled in.

And, shockingly, slept.





10




CECE WAS DOING her damnedest to pretend she was anywhere else other than in the storm of the century, in the back of a stranger’s Hummer.

In labor.

“On a beach,” she muttered to herself. “In the South Pacific. It’s hot and dry and there’s a cute cabana boy serving me a fruity drink—”

She broke off at the choked laugh from the man in the driver’s seat taking her through the craziness toward the hospital.

Hunter. He of the tall, dark and quietly strong persuasion, with the badass ’tude.

“I’m pretending I’m not here,” she told him.

“Good. Keep pretending. And when this is over, I’ll get you that fruity drink.”

“No can do. I’m done with badasses. No offense intended.”

“None taken.”

“Oh, and on my beach, I’m not as fat as a whale. Just so you know.”

He met her gaze in the rearview mirror. “Are you seriously comparing yourself to a whale?”

“Well, look at me.”

“I am. I have been. I just see a pretty woman, scared half to death and trying to be strong.”

Her breath caught. And then again as the familiar tightening began. “Oh, God. Oh, shit,” she gasped as another contraction took her, tunneling to her very core. She tried to ride through the pain, but the storm swirling outside the windows scared her. What if they couldn’t get to the hospital?

She could see Hunter’s broad shoulders, flexing as he shifted the Hummer. They were wide shoulders, strong and capable. God, she hoped he was capable.

And, damn, but this contraction was different.