I could stare into them all day, but it was clear he was waiting for something. While being the hottest person on the planet, he was also a gentleman.
‘Go ahead,’ I said breathlessly. Apparently my dick had put itself in a timeout but my vocal cords had decided the best way to entice my rescuer was to go all huffy and weird. Perfect.
Thankfully, McHotterson ignored my messed-up voice. He deftly pulled down my fleece zip and unfastened the buttons of the jacket underneath. A woollen shirt came next.He pushed them all off my useless arms. His hands gentle, he pulled my vest over my stomach and helped me ease my elbows out of the way.
In a million other circumstances, this would easily have been the sexiest experience of my life. The hottest person I was ever going to meet was kneeling between my legs and slowly undressing me. I shuddered every time his calloused fingers coasted over my skin. But not because I was experiencing sexual nirvana. Oh no. Because I was so freaking cold.
It physically hurt when he undid my jeans and belt, then wrapped my arms around his neck so he could lift me and pull them down my half-frozen legs. I’d thought I’d been in pain when I’d fallen in the snow, but this was something else. My limbs had slipped into a numb stupor due to the extreme cold outside. Now they were waking up. And they were not happy about it.
‘Ow,’ I moaned as McHotterson put me back on the chair and slid my jeans down my thighs. ‘Ow, ow, ow ow.’
‘Sorry,’ he grunted, eyebrows scrunched in a way that radiated guilt.
‘No. You don’t be sorry.’ Every word was strained, my lungs contracting as he lifted one leg then the other to free my jeans. ‘None of this is your fault. You didn’t force me to get lost in a snowstorm.’
‘It’s not a snowstorm,’ he said, removing my socks.
I attempted to reel back, ramming my sore shoulder blades into the chair. ‘Excuse me for using the wrong terminology.’
It was even more subtle than the smile hiding behind Bonnie’s smirk, but his lips twitched in his beard. I itched to find out if it felt as heavenly soft as it looked.
Whatever happiness briefly illuminatedhis face fell away as he contemplated my dancing-cookie boxers. I chose to interpret that as reluctance to strip me completely, rather than judgement of my awesome fashion choices. No one could hate smiling cookies printed on bright blue cotton.
‘I can deal with them myself.’
I reached for my waistband and my shoulder twinged. Hissing, I clasped my arm to my side. Maybe this guy had a helplessness kink. Or no, maybe he hated it. That was what I was supposed to hope for. If I couldn’t get my first choice of an island devoid of hotties, I’d settle for one full of hotties who were either unattainable or found me repulsive.
‘Put your arms around my neck,’ McHotterson instructed, giving no indication of where he landed on the helplessness kink scale.
Carefully, I obeyed. Even more carefully, my rescuer hooked his thumbs into the waistband of my boxers on either side of my hips and edged them down. I shivered, feeling pathetically exposed in addition to pathetically cold and feeble.
I squeaked manfully as McHotterson bent to hook his arm under my knees. Back in a bridal hold, but this time with my face burning at the shame of not only being helpless but also butt naked, I clung to my rescuer as he carried me over to the tub.
‘This might hurt,’ he warned, before lowering me into the steaming water.
If I had the physical capability, I would have clung to him and demanded he lift me away from the liquid-based torture. As it was, my arms went limp and my breath was stolen as a thousand needles pierced my skin at every point the water lapped against me.
I shuddered as I settled into the bath, the pain graduallyfading and noodle-like looseness invading my limbs. I realised McHotterson still had his hand on me when my head lolled back and I nudged into his arm. He pulled away, unfolding his shirtsleeve to cover a forearm streaked with dirt.
‘Don’t drown,’ he murmured, before rushing from the room.
I huffed out a pained laugh. That would be just my luck. Rescued from what was apparently not a snowstorm but resembled one in every way, and once I was somewhere safe and warm, then I would die.
The warm water caressing my raw skin, I settled into the tub. I braced my feet at the far end as my eyes drifted closed.
CHAPTER FOUR
CALLUM
It was him.
The scent that pestered me, lingering on the edge of my senses all day and darting out of sight every time I turned.
Now it was everywhere.
I stood in the centre of my living room and breathed deep, each inhalation forcing more of it into my lungs.
Normally, every scent here was familiar. The deep earthiness of the logs drying next to the wood burner. The musty comfort of my old sofa. The lingering aromas of the meal I’d prepared the night before.
