He made a quick search of the bedroom. It was exactly the way he left it. So was the bathroom, except for the wet washcloth, the towel and the bottle of antiseptic on the counter.
He returned to the living room. He took in everything about the stranger—the wet clothes clinging to her body, her muddy shoes, the tousled, short blond hair and the beautiful face with the numerous scratches. A face that even in sleep was covered in turmoil. He felt a definite tug on his reality, a strange combination of lust and concern. He steeled himself against the unwanted and unexpected feelings—both of them.
He had been down that path before with a beautiful stranger who had claimed to need his help. It had ended up costing him two years of his life and his career. And before that there was his travesty of an engagement to a woman who had jilted him at the altar and gone back to her former boyfriend.
Yes, indeed. It would be a cold day in hell before he made the mistake of being suckered in by another beautiful woman, no matter how vulnerable she appeared to be or how much she professed to need his help.
He continued to stare at the stranger as he turned the situation over in his mind. She didn’t seem to pose an immediate threat to him. Should he wake her and demand to know what she was doing in his cabin or wait until she woke on her own? He spotted her purse on the end table. As he reached for it she stirred, opened her eyes, then jerked to attention.
Her eyes went wide with fright as her gaze landed on him.
Her voice was anything but firm as she eased her way out of the chair. She moved behind it in an obvious attempt to put a barricade between them. “Who…who are you? What are you doing here?”
His reply was succinct, his voice carrying all the authority of someone in charge. “Well, Goldilocks…I’m Papa Bear and this is my cabin. I want to know why you’ve been eating my soup and sleeping in my chair.” He raked his gaze slowly over the obviously frightened woman, but was totally unprepared for her next move.
She bolted for the door of the cabin and ran blindly out into the rain, fear propelling her every step. Reece followed close on her heels, catching up with her about ten feet from the porch. He picked her up and threw her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. She struggled, twisting and turning in an attempt to get loose. His tight hold thwarted her attempts to free herself from his control.
“Lady…calm down. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m bigger than you are. I’m stronger than you. I don’t like being out here in the mud and rain. Stop struggling because whether you like it or not, we’re going back inside. You’re going to tell me who you are and why you broke into my cabin.”
She pounded her fists against his back. “You put me down this second.” Even to her own ears her demands sounded weak and ineffectual. Her mind raced, darting frantically from one fear to another as he carried her inside the cabin. Panic continued to rampage through her body, totally wiping out any logic that might have been tenaciously clinging to her reality. The moment he set her down, she dashed for the door again.
With a speed that truly shocked her, he lunged forward and tackled her around the waist. In one smooth motion he shoved her to the floor and pinned her down with his body.
She had never been as frightened as she was at that moment, not even when her abductor had grabbed her. The bitter taste of adrenaline filled her mouth. Her heart pounded wildly, pushing her fear to every part of her body. Her throat threatened to close. She swallowed several times, but it did nothing to stop the sick churning in the pit of her stomach. It felt as if all the oxygen had been sucked out of the air. She gasped for breath. She lashed out at him in panic, scratching the side of his face.
“Damn!” He grabbed both her wrists and held them above her head. “Settle down, you little hellcat. I told you I’m not going to hurt you. Now, calm down. Will you stay put and stop struggling if I let go of your wrists?”
The tears welled in her eyes. She tried to blink them away. A sob caught in her throat. She barely managed to force out the words. “Please don’t hurt me.”
His breathing quickened as he continued to struggle with her. She was obviously very frightened, but he also knew that she was hysterical and in danger of injuring herself if she tried to run again. He could not let her up from the floor before she regained control of her emotions. He forced a calm to his voice, one he didn’t feel but one he hoped would have an effect on her.
“I told you, I’m not going to hurt you.” He held both of her wrists in one of his hands and with the other one he grabbed both sides of her jaw and held her head still. He fixed her with a steady gaze. “Listen to me. I’m not going to hurt you. Do you hear me? Are you listening to me? Answer me.”
He saw her eyes focus on him. They were still filled with fear, but he knew he finally had her attention. He dropped his voice to what he hoped was a soothing level. “Quiet down. Be still. I’m not going to hurt you. Do you understand me?”
She nodded her head.
“Say it. I want to hear the words. Do you understand what I’m saying? I’m not going to hurt you.”
Her voice trembled, but the words finally came out. “I…I hear you.”
“Okay. Now, take a deep breath, then another one. You’re going to be all right. Take another breath.” He felt some of the tension drain from her body as her muscles relaxed a bit. When her breathing smoothed out until it was steady, he let go of her face. “I’m going to turn your wrists loose now, then we’ll get up from the floor. I want you to sit on the sofa. Do you understand?”
She took a deep breath. Her voice still contained a slight quaver as she spoke, but she had better control of it. “Yes.”
His face was so close to hers that he could feel her breath against his skin. Even disheveled, dirty and scratched, she still radiated a beauty and desirability that pushed his testosterone to the limit. And having his body on top of hers definitely aggravated the awkward situation. He had to break the physical contact before she had a valid reason to be concerned about what could happen.
He cautiously released her wrists from his grasp and allowed her to slowly lower her arms. “I’m going to stand up now. Are you sure you’re calm and in control of your emotions?” He felt a little more of her tension drain away. He rose to his feet, then held out his hand to help her up from the floor. She hesitated, then cautiously accepted his assistance.
To her surprise, her fear level didn’t elevate when he grasped her hand. He certainly radiated a commanding presence, but she had picked up on something else about him. His blue eyes had been wary as he stared at her, rather than menacing. They were honest and seemed to take in everything that was going on. Now that she was in control of herself again, she realized that there wasn’t anything potentially hurtful radiating from him.
Was it just wishful thinking on her part? Hoping she hadn’t become ensnared in even more trouble than she had been in a few hours earlier? Hoping she hadn’t stumbled into the hideout of a crazed rapist or a serial killer? She knew he wasn’t the man who had abducted her, but could he be in league with her stalker?
Her throat tightened and a sick feeling churned in the pit of her stomach again. Was she about to meet her final doom?
He guided her to the sofa in front of the fireplace. “I’m not going to hurt you. Now sit down and stay put while I build a fire and get some heat in here.” He started to reach for some logs, then turned his gaze on her again. He told her what she intellectually knew, but had not emotionally accepted.
“You can’t wander around in the rain. Besides, it will be dark soon. All you’ll accomplish is getting yourself hurt.” He returned his attention to starting a fire.
The cold, the wet and the emotional turmoil finally caught up with her. She shivered in hard spasms. She reached for the blanket folded across the back of the sofa and pulled it around her. Was she