Her shivers intensified.
With both of them still standing, he took off his Neoprene top and shoved it into the Q40 side compartment. Quickly, he removed the solar vest from Liz and slid it on himself. She looked like a lost waif, watching him for a sign—any sign—of what he would do to help her. In that moment, something in the way she looked told him he’d do whatever it took to keep her alive.
Anything.
He pulled her against his chest, and she leaned in to his warmth, her hands clutching at his sides to get even closer. He wrapped the vest around them both, clicked the buckle in place, and tightened the belt. He pulled her closer, cupping her body nearer, laying his cheek against her hair.
She was his to save, and he would.
For the next few minutes they stood there, arms wrapped around each other, waiting. Waiting for her to stop shivering.
Finally she looked up at him. “I’m warm. Thank you.”
He stroked the side of his finger down her cheek. There was no way he could tell her how warm she felt to him. No reason to tell her. He was the protector. She was the client.
“Good. We need to get going.” He sat down, awkwardly pulling her with him. “Did you at least go to the bathroom when you fell in the water?”
“Must have, because I don’t need to go now.”
Her knees bumped his knees, their legs tangling with who should be where. Didn’t take long for him to realize he couldn’t get a good grip on the handles or see the dash screen or sit in this position for more than a short time.
“Why can’t I get on the back again?” she asked.
“No. The only way this will work is for both of us to face each other in this solar vest. So…um…” God help him, this was going to be tough. “Stand back up.”
Together they stood. He cupped her bottom. Pulled her legs up around him. Then sat back down. He tugged her even closer, draping her legs over the top of his thighs. Their bodies were so close there was no way her groin would lose any heat.
He blew out a deep sigh, relieved he could now grip the throttle. Monitor the dash screen. Ride for hours. Unless his body killed him somewhere along the way.
She looked up. “Alrighty then.”
“Yeah.” He shook his head, grinned. “Sorry about this.”
“I lost the earbud piece.”
“Don’t worry about it. That’s the least of our worries.”
Slipping her fingers out of the vest then up to his jawline, she smiled. “Just in case I fall off again, I don’t plan to die without a proper thank you.”
She covered his lips with her own, tender and gentle. Then covered fuller, more open, pulsing her kiss with need. As she pulled away, her teeth scraped his bottom lip.
His insides tightened, but he controlled his urge. Damn-it-to-hell, this woman was going to be the death of him.
“Alrighty then,” she whispered to herself.
“That was a crazy thing to do, Liz.”
“Yeah, but you know what Drake used to say”—she brushed her fingertips across Mitch’s lower lip—”enjoy life while you can. What if tomorrow never comes?”
His body stirred again. Fast and hard as hell.
She glanced up at him. “Going to be a long painful trip at this rate.”
“No kidding!”
What was it about this woman? What kind of chemistry was his body picking up from her? Craving?
“I don’t want you to think I’m usually that forward.” She snuggled against him beneath the solar vest. “But…I’m really kind of worried right now.”
