Caitlin kicked off her shoes and tugged off her socks, then rolled up her pants legs. “I think a highland loch would be colder than the ocean this time of year.”
Holt shook his head. “I don’t know…”
She heard his rising intonation as a challenge and decided to accept it. Walking into the water until it was ankle-deep, she fought to keep her expression serene. “It is cold, but nowhere near as cold as it would be in the Highlands.”
Holt snorted and moved toward her. She heard the breath he sucked in as soon as his toes touched the water, but he kept going, reaching her and passing until the surge hit just below his knees. “The tide’s coming in. The deeper you go, the colder it gets.”
Caitlin joined him. Holt was a few inches taller, so the water hit her legs just above the knee. “Nay. I swim in colder lochs in the summer.” As soon as she finished speaking, a wave rounding the point rushed the shore and knocked her off her feet.
Caitlin came up spluttering, soaked and chilled through, her teeth chattering. It took a moment for her to realize Holt’s arms were around her, holding her up. He’d gotten wet saving her, but he was marginally warmer than she, so she clung to him. He pushed her hair out of her face as she held onto him, and she caught her breath at his expression— pensive and dark. His lips were damp with sea water, full, and tempting. Would they be warm, or cold? Salty or sweet? Firm or soft? The urge to find out burst through any inhibitions she might have used to guard herself from this man. But before she could react, he scooped her up and carried her back to shore, where he put her down.
“Are you okay?”
She shivered. “I will be once we get back inside,” she said as she moved up the sand. Out of Holt’s embrace, the breeze deepened her chill from her dunking in cold water. Her hands shook and her teeth wanted to keep chattering, but she clenched her jaw. In a rush to collect her shoes and run back to the house to get warm, she hastened across the beach, but halfway, she stepped on something hard and sharp. With a cry, she fell flat-out, arms extended, turning her head in time to keep from getting a mouthful of sand. She pushed up onto her knees, fighting to get her breath back through the pain of the jolt to her knees and torso. Holt reached her in seconds, took her arm and helped her the rest of the way up.
“I never said you had to fall at my feet,” he teased.
Caitlin took a breath, trying to come up with a suitably snarky response. This was the version of Holt who’d mocked her in the library. Before she could speak, Holt crouched next to her.
“You’re bleeding! Give me your foot. No, the other one.”
“I didn’t feel anything.” She put a hand on his shoulder to help her balance on one foot and glanced around and down. The red staining the sand where Holt had helped her stand up surprised her.
“Probably because your foot’s so cold.” Holt brushed sand from her injured foot and inspected the bottom. “The cut’s under the heel. The edges look clean, so maybe you stepped on a broken piece of glass.” He studied the sand around them, then let go of her foot and put his hands on her hips to steady her as she lowered her toes to the sand. Then he stood. “Stay put for a second. I don’t know exactly where you got cut, but I don’t want you to step on anything sharp like that again.”
“Um…what about you?”
“I’m tough.” Holt gave her a grin, then went back to business. “I’m going to put on my shoes, grab yours, then carry you back to the house. Mrs. Smith must keep a first aid kit somewhere.”
“How bad is the cut?” Caitlin did her best to ignore her reaction to Holt’s unexpected grin— there was no reason why it should make her insides melt. She was too cold for that nonsense, and his moods were too changeable. Instead, she turned her foot from side to side, but she could only see bloody sand, not the cut. Stymied, she brushed at the sand coating the front of her body from her fall. She was pretty sure Mrs. Smith wouldn’t appreciate her bringing half the beach into the house with her.
“I don’t think it needs stitches.” Holt stepped up onto the grassy verge, swept sand from his feet with his socks, shook them out and pocketed them, then slipped on his shoes. “But you’ll need to let it heal before you run your next marathon.”
“No problem then. I don’t have one scheduled until….oh, never.”
He stepped back down onto the sand and handed her shoes to her. “Okay, up you go.” He bent and scooped her up before she had time to object that she could probably wrap the injury in her socks and walk on the toes of that foot.
Secure in his arms, Caitlin decided she’d keep her mouth shut. Being snuggled against his body, warmed by his heat, was worth a small cut on her foot. She couldn’t believe stand-offish Holt taking care of her like this. “Do you often rescue damsels in distress?”
He snorted and shrugged off her question. But he held her close and gazed at her, pupils dilated and expression heated in a way she couldn’t mistake. His hand warmed her back as he carried her toward the house. His lips, slightly parted, tempted her again.
Then he looked away. “I don’t often get the opportunity. Women nowadays want to rescue themselves.”
Another reason to be glad she hadn’t insisted on walking.
“I’d think you’d have lasses throwing themselves at your feet, a big, strong, handsome lad like you.” Flustered, Caitlin couldn’t believe she’d just said that, though Holt had said it first, teasing her. But he was giving her that look again, so maybe making a fool of herself had been worth it. “I’m sorry I was so clumsy,” she added, hoping to restore some semblance of her dignity. Yet, that look in his eye told her he wanted her.
“You weren’t clumsy. You were unlucky.”
So, he was ignoring her description of him. Maybe he thought she was making fun of him. But she’d meant every word. Especially now that she was this close to him, with the muscles of his arms burning into her back and the backs of her thighs, one hand curled around her leg, the other holding her against his chest. She lifted her hand, wrapped it around his neck and tunneled her fingers into his hair, telling herself she only meant to warm them. When he leaned his head back into her palm, Caitlin traced his cheek with her other hand. “Thank you.”
“Not necessary. You’d have done the same for me.”
“Well, except for the carrying you to the house part, I suppose.”
Holt laughed at that, his chest vibrating against her ribs, eyes sparkling with mirth and teeth flashing white behind his full lips. “You’re a resourceful woman. You’d have thought of something.” He stepped up onto the back porch. “Can you get the door?”
Caitlin managed to twist the knob and open the door, surprised. This was a very different Holt Ridley than the one she’d dealt with the last two days.
