Page 14 of Snowbound with the Santas

And they grow louder with each step.

Shit!

I throw myself back at the dresser, closing my purse and trying to arrange it back the way it was before I touched it. I hadn’t paid that much attention, and now I can’t remember if the strap was loose or coiled up with the purse.

Louder and louder those deafening steps grow, and I have to give up.

Phone in hand, I haul myself painfully back to the bed and almost fall as I step forward with my right leg in my panic.Luckily, I land on the bed this time and not the floor, softening the blow, and I swallow down the hot pain fighting to escape me.

I scramble under the covers and pull them quickly back over my body, then I screw my eyes closed and fight to steady my breathing.

Come on, Rayne. Pretend to be asleep. Just pretend.

My heart pounds painfully against my ribs, and sweat gleams across my entire body. My thigh is on fire, flaring up like a deep muscle cramp, and it takes all my strength not to double over and fight the pain with gritted teeth.

The heavy footsteps stop right outside the door, and I press my lips together, holding my breath the best I can.

It’s difficult, and a few pants are escaping me.

Then the door clicks and the hinges squeak softly as it swings open. Wood creaks under the weight of the footsteps coming into the room. There’s a clatter of something against wood, and then a deep breath that carries a slightly masculine air.

Is it the man from outside? Have I woken up into some terrifying horror movie and I’m about to be dragged out to the spit and roasted alive to feed his cannibal children?

The steps come closer and then pause once more. Silence falls, and I fight with every instinct I have to open my eyes.

Pretend to be asleep. Pretend!

“I know you’re awake,” comes a deep, gentle voice.

6

NICK

The mound on the bed doesn’t move.

I keep my distance.

There’s no telling what kind of person we rescued from the site of the crash. Is she a damsel in distress or a murdering hitchhiker? In the heat of the moment when we stumbled upon the crashed jeep, there’d been no thoughts of anything other than rescuing the driver and getting her somewhere safe and warm before hypothermia could set in.

Now that she’s woken up, my next concern is how badly hurt she is. There was only so much I could do when assessing her physical injuries. I need to talk to her in order to determine anything internal that could be causing an issue, and all of that rests on her being sane and stable enough to answer a couple of questions.

Archer’s already made his thoughts clear on the situation, but until the snow from the storm shifts, there’s nothing we can do but keep her here. I desperately hope we haven’t scooped up some kind of psychopath, but given how she was dressed and the fact that she was even out driving in a storm like that doesn’t give me much hope.

I’ll try not to judge.

Nothing good ever leads someone this deep into the mountain.

The covers on the bed rapidly rise and fall, and given the noises I heard, she’s definitely awake. And likely scared.

“Ma’am?” I try again, hoping to coax her into talking to me. “I heard you moving around. I know you’re awake.”

Suddenly, the mound on the bed surges upward and the woman bolts upright. Her black hair flies around her face, draping over one shoulder, and she points at me with her phone. Crystal blue eyes narrow to dangerous slits, and she glares at me.

“Who the fuck are you?” she demands. “Where the fuck am I? You have three seconds to tell me what the hell is happening here before I hit the call button and bring all the emergency services here!”

Judging by her accent, she’s American, which means she’s not native to these mountains. It’s even more lucky that we found her when we did.

I raise both hands, palms facing outward. “If you could do that, I’m sure you already would have. And then I would have been amazed that you got reception this deep into the mountains.”

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