She’d better settle down, she told herself. She and Griff were going to be in this cabin, alone, for God knew how long. If she didn’t want to make a complete fool of herself, she’d better remember that Griff was just doing this as a favor to Ryan Fortune. He’d made that clear enough.
Griff came back into the cabin a few minutes later, and carefully locked the door behind him. Then he went over and examined the window in the main room. Willa watched as his fingers traced the frame lightly, brushing over the wood and lingering over the locks. Before she could stop herself, she was imagining Griff’s hands on her, exploring her as thoroughly as he explored the window.
Making a disgusted noise under her breath, she turned her back and jerked open another cabinet. But putting the food away couldn’t stop her from being aware of Griff in the cabin. She knew instantly when he moved away from the main room and walked into the bedroom.
She refused to allow herself to turn and look at him. Instead, she called out, “What’s the verdict on the security?” She hoped he could hear nothing in her voice aside from friendly concern.
“It’ll do.” His voice was muffled, as if he were still bent over the window. “I have a few things I want to do, but then it should be all right.”
“Did you want something to eat first?”
Griff emerged from the bedroom. “I’ll make us a couple of sandwiches in a while. But first I want to take a look at that head of yours.”
Willa put her hand on the bump over her left temple. “I’d almost forgotten about this.”
“I hadn’t.” His voice was controlled, and she saw a flash of anger turn his eyes dark. “I want to make sure you’re all right.”
“I’m fine, Griff.” She wasn’t sure she wanted Griff to come any closer to her, even if only to check the cut on her head. Her heart was already beating frantically in her ears, and it was hard to draw a breath. “Why don’t you take care of the windows, while I make us sandwiches?”
“That will keep. Your injuries won’t.” He moved toward her.
“I’m fine, Griff. Really.” When she realized she was backing away from him, she stopped and straightened. “I’ll put some alcohol on the cut and that will take care of it.”
“I want to make sure there’s nothing else wrong with you. We don’t know what they did to you inside your building to get you into that rug.”
He wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Willa shrugged. “All right. You might as well get it over with. But you’re not going to find anything wrong.”
Except that her palms were sweating and her heart was thundering in her chest!
Three
“It will only take me a minute,” he said. He glanced behind him. “Let’s sit down over on the couch.”
Willa slipped past Griff in the tiny kitchen and went over to the couch, trying to compose herself. In a few moments, Griff joined her. He was holding a brown bottle and several tubes and packages of bandages.
“You look like you’re ready to take care of a whole army,” she said.
“I wasn’t sure what I would need, so I just got everything I saw in the store.”
Willa turned her head so that Griff could see the cut. “Go ahead, then, and get it over with.”
Griff didn’t move, and finally Willa turned to face him. “What’s wrong?”
“Does your head hurt that much?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Of course not.”
“Then what’s wrong? You’re as stiff as a board.”
She felt her face heating, but she wasn’t about to tell him the truth. She was bracing herself for his touch. She couldn’t tell him that her heart was racing and her skin tingling because he was so close to her. So she shrugged. “I never did like having people poke at me when I was hurt. Go ahead.”
She turned her head away, but she felt him hesitate. Finally he touched her face. His hands were as gentle and light as the touch of a butterfly’s wings, and when his fingers trailed over the side of her head, lingering at the angle of her jaw, she shivered in response.
“Your cut is beginning to heal already,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I’m going to clean it, then leave it alone. I think it’ll be fine.”
“Good,” she managed to say. Swallowing hard, she clamped her hands between her thighs and looked out the window. She knew very well what Griff would see in her face if she looked at him. He would see desire.
She was afraid he would find it pathetic.
So she kept her head turned away as he wiped at the cut with a cold, stinging liquid. “It’s alcohol,” he said, and he cleared his throat. “I’m sorry if it hurts, but they dropped you in that muddy water. I want to make sure that cut is disinfected.”
“Don’t worry about it,” she managed to say. Just do this quickly, she pleaded silently.
After a few moments he moved away from her. Willa started to get up, but Griff laid a hand on her arm.
“Just a minute,” he said. “I’m not finished.”
“You took care of the cut,” she said, telling herself to pull away from him. “What else is there?”
“I don’t know.” He didn’t let go of her arm, and she didn’t try to move away. “But I want to ask you a few questions.”
Slowly she sat back down on the couch. “I already told you, I don’t remember what happened.”
He smiled. Almost as if he couldn’t help himself, he reached out and pushed her hair away from the cut on her head. “I know. And I’m not going to push. But I want to make sure they didn’t hurt you anyplace else.”
Heat trailed down her face, following his fingers, and she swallowed again. “All right.”
His hand dropped away from her face, and held hers. “You said you had gotten your mail, and you remember seeing the painters. They said something to you. Did you answer them?”
She closed her eyes and tried to remember, but there was a void. “I don’t remember,” she said, opening her eyes. “But I probably would have, if they spoke to me.”
“You’re too polite to ignore someone talking to you.” He took her other hand and fixed his gaze on her face. “So they said something to you, you answered them, and they probably moved closer while you talked. Do you remember if they hit you?”
She shook her head slowly. “I don’t remember anything after that.”
Griff frowned. “If they didn’t hit you, they would have to have used something like chloroform to knock you out. Otherwise, they couldn’t have gotten you rolled up in that rug. I didn’t smell anything when I found you. Does your throat hurt?”
“Not at all.”
“Then let’s take a look at your head.”
He moved in front of her, then crouched down between her legs so their faces were only inches apart. “I’m going to look for another lump on your head. Tell me if I hurt you.” His voice was low and throaty, and a stab of desire jolted through her. Her throat swelled, and all she could do was nod her head.
Griff’s brown eyes held hers for a moment, and she thought she saw an answering flare of desire in their depths. Then he abruptly turned his head away. His hands slid into her hair, and she closed her eyes to the wave of feeling that swept over her.
His fingers moved gently over