The Billionaire's Heir(4)

Devastation twisted in his chest. No way was he losing her! He pushed himself off the boulder and positioned her head above the surface as the slipstream carried them further up the creek. Allowing the water to carry them, he paddled his feet toward the bank, where he pulled Samira out of the roaring creek and onto dry land.

Ivan was trained in basic first aid, so he gently laid her on the grass and put her in the recovery position, kneeling beside her – dripping wet. She looked beautiful; peaceful – as if she was sleeping. He lowered his face to her mouth and realized she wasn’t breathing. Oh god…. He forced himself to remain calm as he pinched her nose, then pressed his lips against hers – breathing into her lungs in the way he’d been shown.

Even in this utter panic, Ivan relished the feel of pressing his mouth against those succulent lips. His mind washed with love and affection. He’d missed her so much – and he wasn’t losing her now… He shifted position and pressed his hands on her chest – pumping, one, two, three, four – trying to stir her into consciousness. During those long and lonely nights he’d fantasized about touching her; holding her close. Fucking her into a frenzy…

Saving her life hadn’t been part of his plan.

“Come on, Samira. You’re not leaving me now, baby.”

He bent to resume the mouth-to-mouth, but her eyes flew open and she gasped in panic, then she coughed hard. She instinctively rolled onto her front, allowing a puddle of water to flow from her mouth. Then she crashed to the grass and panted with relief.

“Welcome back,” he whispered.

Still staring at the grass she whispered. “Ivan?”

“Samira…”

He pulled her damp body close and kissed her hard. Her lips acquiesced, and she groaned gently, flopping in his arms and giving herself to him entirely. Ivan pulled away and ran his fingers through her damp hair – but he saw she’d slipped off again into a dreamlike stupor. Her eyelids were closed and she looked half-drunk. Ivan kissed on her forehead, satisfied she was okay.

There were no hospitals for miles around this secluded Texas ranch, so there was only one place to take her. Dripping wet himself, he stood and quickly grabbed his discarded shirt then wrapped it around her. He glanced around for his horse and realized it’d wandered off. But Samira’s horse was tethered to a tree, so he picked her up and carefully draped her over the saddle, then climbed up behind her.

As he reached for the reins, he was tempted to ride out of this ranch and into the sunset with her, but she needed somewhere more comfortable than a horse to recover. So, easing the horse into a gentle walk, he steered them to his cottage, feeling as light as the midday sun about having her back in his life.

Now there was just the matter of letting her know.





Chapter Three




The sound of the ceiling fan stirred Samira’s muzzy mind into wakefulness. Hot humidity prickled her skin. Her body felt frazzled. She tried to remember what had happened, but a soothing smell of home-cooking and fresh laundry wafted into her nostrils...

A memory trickled in. There’d been water… and a horse…

She raised her arms above her head to stretch, then she lay there in the heat and tried to get her bearings, opening her eyes slowly. She frowned. Okay… she was currently in a cabin – the walls, ceiling, and floor were all made of wood. It was bright and open, but the room was stuffy and hot. The ceiling fan was blowing warm air around, making Samira feel as if she was in a clothes drier. The window was open wide, but the blind was pulled down, shielding her from the intense sun outside.

Her senses drifted back to reality, and she wondered whose bed she was lying on. It wasn’t her room at the ranch – which she still didn’t think of as her room, even though she’d been here six months. She’d never really put down roots in America and she probably never would now she was an illegal alien. But thank goodness Mr. Langdon was allowing her hide here, and all she had to do was–

Shit! Worry coursed through her body and she sat up on the rickety bed. What time was it? She needed to be at the border by two… she couldn’t miss that appointment – her life here depended on it.

Okay… what was she doing in this cabin? A memory drifted back. She’d fallen into the creek – or someone had set her up to fall – it seemed as if the earth around the bank had been purposely loosened; it’d come away too easy… Was someone trying to kill her? She rubbed her brow – of course not.

So… she’d been drowning and someone had pulled her out… a man. She shivered as she remembered she’d seen Ivan. Kissed his gorgeous lips. But she must’ve been dreaming. Or perhaps the act of drowning had played tricks on her mind. She dreamed about him often – very vividly – so why should today be different?