Page 82 of Playing My Rivals

Old school stories my grandma used to tell me fill me with hope. I rush over to it and lift it. Lo and behold, a key is underneath the pot.

I pick it up and show it to him like I’m giving him the key to his kingdom. “Tada!”

“Finally, something good.”

He stalks toward me and takes it out of my fingers. Moving briskly, he puts it in the keyhole and turns it. The lock pops, releasing the seal.

The weight of his arm pushes against my back. “Get in there before you die of hypothermia.”

“Yes, sir.”

As I step inside, my eyes catch something in his that I can’t place—a stirring of some kind.

Warm wetness seeps between my thighs from the heat of his gaze. My stomach somersaults with the hope that whatever that was, that stirring in his eyes, I’ll find out someday what it was.

Jamison lays out all my clothes, including my undergarments, over a railing near the front door so they can dry. “Stay under that blanket. I’m going to look for a heater or something for a fire.”

I snuggle further into the corner of the couch, wrapped up in the only blanket we found on the first sweep at the abandoned cabin. I rub my hands together to create heat from the friction as he disappears down a dark hall.

The cabin is almost pitch black. I can barely see a thing, which is why it was easy to strip to the bone when he demanded I get out of my clothes.

A few minutes later, he comes toward me with something in his arms. It’s so dark I can only make out his silhouette.

“What’s the verdict?” My teeth chatter and I still tremble under the blanket.

“They cut the electricity, but I found sheets and three more blankets for the bed. Are you warming up?” He stands before me with what I assume are the items he just mentioned.

I hug my knees. “I’m trying, but I can’t seem to get there. Did you find anything to start a fire?”

“Nothing. They must have closed the place down for the winter.” The sofa cushion sinks when he sits next to me. “You might do better if you remove your hair from the braid and let it air dry.”

“And you might do better if you get out of your wet clothes.” I stretch out my leg and tap his thigh with my ice cube of a toe.

“Yeah. I know.” He agrees with me but doesn’t move.

“What’s wrong?” I suspect he’s struggling because we’ll both be naked, but this is a matter of getting warm, not getting it on.

He sits in silence as he contemplates something, then growls under his breath and runs his hands over his face.

“Fuck it.” He stands and strips down to nothing right in front of me.

I may be freezing, but watching his shadow heats me up pretty damn fast. The outline of his taut and tight body is enough to ignite the embers in my core.

He grabs one of the blankets and wraps it around his shoulders. He places the other two next to me.

“Use these to layer yourself.” He sits and spreads them out over me.

It’s not going to help. I’m too cold.

“Jami, you know this won’t work.”

“Then what do you suggest?” His words come out harsh.

I scowl before I remember he can’t see me, but then force myself to relax. It’s not me he’s angry with. He’s upset and still operating defensively.

“Jami, we need to make the bed and use our body heat to warm up. We’ll have more layers because we can use all the blankets. You talked about survival kits earlier, so you know I’m making sense.”

I’m walking us into dangerous territory, but I don’t see any other way. A flutter rises in my gut. He turns to the window and mutters something under his breath.

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