There was a strangled gasp. “In front of me?”
“Close your eyes if you don’t want to watch.” He chuckled grimly at the slap of skin as she clamped her hands over her eyes. “I’m as wet and cold as you are, and we’ve already established that I have a weaker constitution than you.”
“That’s true.” There was a slight pause. “Fine, but stay on your side of the shed.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
When he was down to his semi-dry cotton union suit that covered him from wrist to ankle, he draped his clothing in the few remaining places and then lowered himself to the ground. A sharp inhale informed him that the soft, rounded body part his hand brushed against was not her knee.
“Oops.”
“You keep saying that.” Her tone was dry. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say it was on purpose.”
“Trust me,” he said, his tongue thick in his mouth. “You’ll know when it’s on purpose.”
She sniffed but said nothing.
They sat stiffly, both pretending to examine the contents of the small shed. When Mack could no longer bear the tense silence, he reached for his valise. Maybe the surprise he’d brought would help. But in the cramped, dark quarters, he knocked a hoe loose from the wall, and it bounced off Winnie before landing between them.
“That’s it.” Her sigh was long-suffering. “Crack open the door. A bit of light and wind is better than this endless assault.”
“‘Death by Garden Hoe’wouldmake a memorable headline,” he joked as he rose and opened the door. He studied the stormy sky before regaining his seat. “There’s a patch of blue in the distance, so hopefully the storm is just pa—”
Holy hell.
“What?”
But he couldn’t respond. The cracked door had let in a swathe of pale evening light that illuminated Winnie in her position against the opposite wall. She’d rolled his shirtsleeves up to her wrists and tucked the long tails around her thighs. Her knees were curled to one side, her calves hidden from view. His shirt was large across her shoulders, and because she’d neglected to secure the top button, it gaped at her throat, revealing a tantalizing flash of skin. From what he could tell, she had removed every piece of her own clothing. Was shetryingto make him lose his mind?
He swallowed hard. “I said there’s a patch of blue sky.”
Her face lit with excitement and started to rise. “That means we should keep moving. We might even make it before sun—” A cry of pain cut off her words as her leg buckled beneath her.
His arms anchored around her plump curves before she could pitch into the shelves. Once she was resettled, he asked, “What hurts?”
“My ankle, but only a teensy bit. I can go on.”
He gestured to the appendage cradled between her hands. “We’re not going anywhere until I’ve assessed whether you can walk, so let’s see it.”
Slowly, she removed her hands, and Mack’s mouth went dry at the pale expanse of leg. His eyes traveled slowly from her adorable little toes, up her shapely calf to her dimpled knee. God, he wanted to stroke all of it, determine the exact level of softness for himself. He returned his attention to her ankle with effort, frowning at the obvious swelling. He cupped her heel and gently touched the skin. When she winced, he shook his head.
“Looks like we’re stuck here for the night.”
“I said I’m fine.”
Mack folded his arms over his chest. “Why are you so averse to common sense?”
Her eyes narrowed into slits. “Don’t you dare speak to me that way. You sound just like—”
“Like someone who might know more about this land than you do?”
She practically vibrated with anger. “Just like my late husband, and that’snota compliment.”
Mack’s brows shot up. “What the hell does that mean?”
“You think you’re so much smarter than me, that I’m incapable of making my own decisions. It’s—it’sdemeaning.”
He blew out a frustrated breath. “Look, I don’t know what you argued about with your husband, but one, I’m not him, and two, I’m not backing down. You’re a city girl, and I know this island. Iamthe expert.”
