His shadow spreads over me. A second later, he springs me to my feet with harsh purpose. He claws at my shirt, forcing me to lift it over my head.
“Hey, w-what are you d-doing?” My teeth chatter, but I manage to get all of my questions out. Of course, no response from him. He continues to pull off all of my clothes, leaving mein my bra and underwear. Then he slips his own shirt off and throws it on top of my clothes, creating a pile.
“Hey, what the hell, G-Gavin?” I try to push him away, but he doesn’t hesitate for one second. He embraces me tightly, holding me to his chest. My muscles continue to convulse as I try to push him away. I fight him off as much as I can, but it’s not doing anything against his steel hold.
“Stop. Get off me!” I shout into his chest, but that familiar simmer in my veins comes back full force. He moves his hand down the small of my back, up and down, creating friction and another spark I need to ignore.
“Body heat is the best way to battle hypothermia. I’m going to hold you until you think it’s good enough. Until you stop shaking. Okay?”
“You-you’re trying to get me warm?” I ask through my jaw that threatens to lock up on me.
He nods.
“S-sorry.” My teeth continue to chatter. “You’re right.” I loosen up, letting myself fall into him, pressing my cheek against his thundering heartbeat.
He doesn’t say anything else. He continues to hold me, and even though the gesture is sweet, his eyes and expression reflect a more bothersome expression—almost as if my almost dyingtwiceis an inconvenience for him. I hold onto his skin, continuing to shake and concentrate on the flames next to us.
“Are you in the Navy? Or were you in the Navy?”
There’s a picture of him on deployment in a submarine.
He doesn’t answer me. Just keeps holding me like I’m nothing but a job to get done. Gavin is massive. Tall. And most of all—warm. He embraces me tighter, my shivering going in and out. Just when I think I’m all good and ready to let go, tremors vibrate my body. With my fingers pressing against his chest, I press my frozen nose tip against his chest hair,unashamed. He still manages to smell so fucking good for pulling me out of the snow.
“That’s a trident, though. Are you a Navy SEAL?” I ask, shutting my eyes, rubbing my cheek against his hard pec, and trying to focus on getting the questions out.
“Was,” he breathes, still staring at the fireplace.
“Ex special operator. That’s impressive.” I smile against him, but he only stiffens.
Maybe he doesn’t like to talk about his time in the military.
He never loosens his grip on my back. He keeps holding onto me, and my shuddering finally comes to a standstill. I blink slowly, catching myself almost falling asleep while standing in his arms. I don’t know how much time has passed, but it feels…good. I haven’t felt this safe in a long time. I haven’t held another man like this, so intimately, who wasn’t my husband. And it feels peaceful.
He has to be freezing, too. I run my hand up his back, returning the friction. My palms smooth over the thick scars I saw when he was in my room.
“What happened here?” I tilt my head to meet his gaze. When my chin rests on the middle of his chest, my heart leaps. He’s looking at me. And for the first time, it feels like he’s letting himself look at me,admire me—the muscle in his jaw flexes. Our flesh connection doesn’t last long after I catch it.
He clears his throat and loosens his grip. Stepping away, he throws another log of wood into the fireplace.
Something I thought was dead inside me already yearns for his touch. His attention. His scent.
Maybe I’m lonely. Perhaps I’m still angry over Liam and Lilly’s betrayal. But I liked Gavin’s embrace. I liked it when he looked at me even more. Tugging my lip with my front teeth, I smooth my hands over my flushed face and inhale. I sit near the fireplace until the flames are almost catching me with crackles, knicking the air.
I can’t have this attraction. I don’t get to. I’m still married, and my morals remind me that it isn’t right to want another man’s attention when I’m still legally bound to someone else.
We’re separated technically…
He grabs my clothes, one by one, from the floor, and leaves. I’m still in my underwear and bra, with peaked nipples drawing through the thin satin layers. I’m half-naked in his living room, and his gaze has never strayed to my breasts or lower. He heads toward his laundry room and disappears into the hallway, while I’m left alone with my thoughts.
Did it bother him that I noticed his scars?
I have so many questions, but one plagues me the most.
How did he get to me so fast?
Fear creeps inside me when the most haunting question is waving red flags I wish I could turn the other cheek to.
Is he…the one who chased me to my attempted demise?
