Page 37 of Duty Bound

One of the most effective ways to warm someone up in that situation was to put them in a sleeping bag with another person with a normal body temperature—and that’s exactly what he was going to do.

He just wasn’t sure how she’d feel about it.

Sitting next to her, he shimmied out of his backpack. He retrieved the sleeping bag—still dry, thanks to the black bag.

“Lily, you need to get out of those wet clothes and climb in here with me.”

“What?” Her eyes widened. Her jaw dropped. She curled into a tighter ball.

He’d expected that reaction. Maybe his delivery was inelegant, but they were running out of time.

“It’s the only way I can warm you up. You’re becoming hypothermic, which means your body can’t heat itself. If you want to survive, you’re going to have to do as I say.”

“Can’t I do jumping jacks or something?”

He snorted but shook his head. “Won’t work. Your internal thermostat has shut down. You need my body heat.”

She swallowed. “You want me to get naked?”

“Leave your underwear on, if you like.” It would have been better if she’d removed it, but he didn’t think he’d be able to handle that, let alone her.

Keep it real, he told himself sternly. This was a life-or-death situation. He couldn’t rescue the hostage only to lose her to hypo-fucking-thermia in a freezing valley. Pat would string him up when he got back.

He was more scared of Pat than an almost naked Lily.

Turning her back to him, she peeled off her dripping trousers and was about to hang them over the wall, when he shook his head. “Too noticeable. Here, give them to me.”

He hung them over a couple of rocks. That way if any of the farmers looked out of their hut windows, they wouldn’t see the trousers flapping in the wind.

While she stripped off the soaked T-shirt, he undressed, and arranged his clothes where they had the most chance of drying. Out of modesty, he’d left his boxers on, but that didn’t stop him from feeling strangely vulnerable when he caught her staring at him.

“You okay?” Normally he didn’t give a shit about getting naked. It was part of life in the military. You showered, shaved, and went to the toilet alongside your fellow soldiers. Any modesty evaporated during the first few months of training.

This wasn’t a “normal” situation.

Her eyes raked over his chest, but she nodded. “Yeah.”

“Good.”

He climbed into the sleeping bag, which wasn’t really big enough for two. It would be a tight squeeze, but that was the point.

Lily eyed it like it was an unexploded bomb.

She was shivering so violently now, he worried she’d break something. He growled, “Get in.”

She took a tentative step toward him, her hands over her breasts. That was all the farther she got.

“Lily, I’m serious. I’ve lost men to hypothermia before. It’s no joke.”

A blush crept into her cheeks, and he thought how wild and untamed she looked in that moment—naked, wild hair cascading around her face, bare shoulders, breasts catching the moonlight.

Fuck, she was exquisite.

He was doing this for Joe. For Pat. If he didn’t, she was going to die. That much he knew for sure.

All he had to do was stay focused—on the situation, not on the rise of her breasts or the curve of her butt.

He exhaled, low and hard.

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