Page 50 of Billionaire Lumberjack's Bride

His ears perk up, and he tilts his head and shuffles forward to lick my face.

At least someone isn’t mad at me.

Though Silas has every right to be. Not only did I lose Billy, but I also almost got myself killed, ruined his clothes and boots, and made him grumpier in the process.

My only consolation is that it can’t get any worse…

Silas returns quickly, dressed in a tight white T-shirt and dark-gray sweatpants, using the towel that had been wrapped around his waist to dry his long hair as he examines me in the water. His light-blue eyes drift from my face down over my chest, abdomen, and legs, making meveryaware that I’m only in my bra and underwear.

He swallows slowly, his Adam’s apple moving under the ink. “Let’s get you out of there.”

As great as the hot water felt, it’s already starting to cool, and without Silas’ body heat added to the mix, the chill has started to return, making me shiver again.

He approaches the tub slowly, almost like he’s afraid of what will happen if he gets too close. I keep my eyes locked on him, trying to see through the wall he keeps building higher and higher around himself to keep me out.

Silas is so used to living that way that the thought of having to open up to me terrifies him worse than whatever drove him up the mountain in the first place.

I saw that definitively tonight.

Our chance to break through it—topotentiallyhave a single second where we’re completely open and raw with each other.

But he shut down so fast I barely had an opportunity to glimpse it.

His legs brush the side of the tub, and he nudges Whiskey with his thigh until the dog finally trots away to wait outside the bathroom door.

Silas stares at me for a moment too long—long enough that I instinctually move my arms protectively over my body like he shouldn’t be seeing it. His jaw hardens again, his teeth clenched as tight as his fists at his sides before he reaches down and slides his hands under my arms to help pull me back up into a sitting position.

It takes a moment for the spinning in my head to clear, and Silas seems to understand that, giving me a few seconds before he tugs gently, trying to get me to my feet.

My entire body trembles immediately when the much cooler air hits me outside the warm water. “Jesus, am I ever going to be warm again?”

“It’ll pass.”

His words come gruff and gritted out, like it physically pains him to say them and see me like this. But that would mean hecared, and he’s already told me he doesn’t. Not like that.

My teeth start chattering as he wraps a dry towel around me and lifts me easily from the tub, setting me onto my feet on the bathmat. I wobble immediately, but one strong arm wraps around my waist while the other rubs against my wet skin—hard.

I begin to protest that it hurts, but he gives me a stern glare that instantly silences me.

“It’ll help get the blood flowing.”

It feels more like a punishment—some sort of torture designed to make me fully break when I’m barely holding it together right now.

He squats and does the same with my legs, beginning down at my ankles and working his way up until his face is directly in front of my soaked white panties that can’t hide anything.

Jesus.

Heat spreads through my cheeks, and I clench my thighs together and grip the edge of the counter to keep myself from passing out from sheer embarrassment.

He quickly climbs to his feet, darting his gaze toward the door. “I’ll get you dry clothes. Are they in your suitcase?”

I nod. “The pink one.”

His lips twitch almost imperceptibly before he stalks back out into the cabin and returns a minute later with a bra, underwear, sweatpants, and a long-sleeved T-shirt. “These should keep you warm. Can you get undressed by yourself?”

“Seems you’ve already done most of the work.”

He flinches.

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