Then he turned away and resumed walking. “We’re close to a stream.”
With another raspy breath, she shrugged off the moment and followed. With those claret eyes, even stone would cave.
“This high up?” she puffed.
He glanced back, one eyebrow raised. “Where do you think water comes from on a snowcapped mountain?”
“Stop bloody gloating. It doesn’t suit,” she grumbled.
Her gaze lowered to his smiling lips—lips that had pressed to hers in such a tragically brief kiss. And she’d frozen, useless as an icicle.
Her face heated, and she tried to shut out the thought.
“Dare I ask about the flushed cheeks?” His voice held that lazy amusement, making her want to throttle him.
“Still can’t believe you turn into something with a tail,” she deflected, managing a sweet smile.
He huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “Let’s get you that water before your sarcasm dries up completely.”
A few minutes later, he pushed aside some low branches, revealing a rustling, crystal-clear stream.
“Have your water. I’ll be back shortly.”
And then he was gone—just gone.
Exhaling, Ash collapsed to her knees on the damp moss and scooped up handfuls of the icy water. She gulped greedily, then splashed her hot face. The shock of cold should’ve cooled her down. It didn’t.
Heat still simmered beneath her skin. The urge to strip and roll into the shallow current gripped her hard, but knowing Race, he’d probably reappear right when she was naked again.
Ugh. Ash pressed her wet palms to her burning cheeks.
“There’s a place we could use.” His low voice shattered the quiet.
“What?” She scrambled to her feet.
“There’s a cave system farther ahead.” His gaze skimmed her as if making sure she was in one piece. “It’s dry, defensible, and well hidden. Come.” He headed through the dense trees again.
Stifling a whimper, Ash followed him, her legs protesting each step. Her stomach growled loud enough to echo in the quiet, but the food she bought was in the backpack Race had slung over one broad shoulder.
She grabbed onto a branch for balance and groaned. “Please, can we stop for a bit? I’m tired, hungry, and everything hurts.”
He turned. “I gave you food. You chose not to eat.”
“Really?” she shot back. “If you’d given any thought about me, other than you being saddled with a human, you’d know I don’t sink my teeth into things that still breathe.”
“You did with me.”
She blinked. “What?”
His mouth curved faintly, and he came back to where she stopped. “It’s not far now. Then you can eat and rest.”
Like a haunting she couldn’t shake, the memory of biting his hand the first time she crashed into him flooded her. Her mouth dropped open, then snapped shut, mortification choking her.
His smile turned into a laugh, and he slipped a hand to the small of her back, urging her forward.
Christ on a cracker.Best to save what was left of her fast-diminishing dignity and not say a word. But the heat of his touch burned through her clothes, goosebumps rippling across her skin, pulling warmth low into her belly.
She tried to ignore it. Tried to focus on the path, on the ache in her legs—on anything but him. But his scent curled around her like smoke, dark and clean, a pull she couldn’t seem to fight.
