Page 12 of Lost in the Wild

Gray eyes fly open, piercing me in the firelight. His frown deepens, and Rowan shakes his head slightly, like he’s brushing off the cobwebs of his dreams. “Evie? What—?”

“You said to tell you if I got cold.”

Rowan jerks upright, snapping into action, and grabs my hand from the tangle of blankets. He curses when he finds my icy fingers, then shoves his brown pelt down so that it slaps against the stone floor.

“Lie on that. Wait—” He drags it closer to the fire. “Okay, lie there.”

The wind moans outside the cave as Rowan strides to his wood stash, snatching up chopped logs. Watching him rebuild the fire is like watching a master at work—all flawless efficiency, despite his tired eyes. He knows exactly how to position each log to make the flames catch, exactly how to stoke the ashy remains to coax out a few sparks, and only a few minutes pass before the fire crackles merrily, warming the air once more.

The pelt is so close to the fire pit, it’s almost too hot—but a groan of pleasure escapes my lips, and I hold up my frozen hands to help them thaw. Lying on one side like this, the whole cave seems tilted.

“You should have said sooner.” Rowan sounds pissed as he stomps around, setting a stash of wood beside us then rounding the back of the pelt. My mouth forms a surprised ‘O’ when he lies down behind me. A strong arm reaches around my waist, yanking our bodies close together, and there’s an answering tug low in my belly. “Why did you let it get this bad?”

“Because I was asleep, you donut. It’s not like I had much choice.”

His breath ruffles the hair by my ear. “But you could have said something earlier. Before we said goodnight.”

That’s true. A large part of me knew I was in for a cold night earlier, but I never suspected it would get this bad. How could I have known?

It’s not like I’m experienced in the wilderness, with a prior track record of sleeping in caves. Not like I knew how cold it would get, and how the stone walls and floor would make things worse, and that toughing it out until morning wasn’t an option.

I was trying to be brave, damn it. Self-sufficient. No trouble.

Instead I’m being spooned by the fire by a grumpy mountain man. He even digs through the blankets and tosses them over both our bodies, before sealing my back against his bare chest.

His naked, warm chest.

My eyelids flutter, and I press back against him instinctively. Even my hips give a little wiggle, coaxing him closer without input from my brain.

“Better?” Rowan asks. He sounds hoarse.

I pull a face at the fire, but… this is better. Way better. My limbs are thawing already, pins and needles prickling through my toes as they come back to life, and with Rowan’s heat pressed against my back, the shivers are finally subsiding.

“Your teeth have stopped chattering,” he notes after five minutes or so.

“Yeah. I can’t believe you sleep bare chested.” Somehow in the last few minutes, our fingers have tangled together, and now I stroke his squared knuckle with my thumb. “Is it a man thing? Like you’re proving how manly you are by surviving the elements?”

A long-suffering exhale tickles my neck. “I run hot, that’s all. Don’t overthink it, Evie.”

Overthink it? Ha! It’s hard to think at all with the wall of hot muscle sealed against my body. When I focus I can feel individual abs back there.

“This is all going in my article, obviously.”

Rowan nips my shoulder in response, and the shock makes me yelp and press back harder against his groin. And… yep. There’s no denying it. No mistaking what I feel, especially now my ass isn’t numb from the cold.

The Wild Man of Starlight Ridge is aroused. No, not just aroused—he’s harder than granite back there. His rigid length presses against the front of his jeans, digging into my left butt cheek, and if I bite my lip any harder, I’ll draw blood.

Don’t rub on it.

Don’t beg for his touch.

For once in your life, be cool.

“It’s a natural biological reaction,” Rowan mutters, and he sounds embarrassed, but he doesn’t loosen his hold on me. “Don’t read into it. And don’t worry, I won’t try to… I’m not going to…”

“I know.” My cheeks burn hot as I pat his hand, and I’m not sure whether that’s from the roaring fire or the needy ache swirling in my belly. “You’re in your monk phase. I get it.”

His sigh gusts my hair across my cheek. I lift our tangled hands and tuck it behind my ear with a secret smile.

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