Page 54 of Out of the Cold

She wanted to rest her hands on his shoulders and test their strength, run her fingers through his thick, dark hair.

He held out his hand. “I’m at your mercy.”

She took it in her own, the contact almost unbearably intimate. Sweat prickled beneath her arms and behind her knees.

Avoiding his gaze, she swabbed the tiny wound with alcohol and picked up the needle and tweezers. Now she had to pierce his skin. She stood there with the needle poised above his palm, her breath fast and shallow.

“It’s okay, Lucy. It’s nothing.”

She moved his hand higher, angling it into the light as she stepped closer. Then she dug into his skin as gently as she could, biting her lip with worry.

It took another minute—a minute she barely breathed—and at last she drew the splinter out. She looked up in relief, only to realize she was standing between his thighs. Everything was there in his eyes, in the taut lines of his body. Had a man ever looked at her with such naked hunger?

Every pulse point in her body throbbed in response.

His hand turned over in hers, and now he was gripping her wrist. One little tug and she’d be sprawled in his lap.

She stood frozen, torn between desire and doubt. She wanted it, God, she wanted it. But what would it mean? Would she lose what they had? Would they go back to barely speaking?

She took a step back.

His breath shuddered out of him as he released her wrist.

She swallowed and tried to speak. “Gabriel, I...”

“I shouldn’t have done that,” he said, standing up.

“It’s okay. It wasn’t...” She cleared her throat. “I feel it, too.”

He was so close, so big and warm, and her whole body longed for him. One step and she could be in his arms.

His eyes darkened and zeroed in on her mouth. “Yeah?”

“But I don’t want to ruin everything,” she said. “We’ve been...we’re almost friends, aren’t we?”

“I guess we are,” he said, his expression softening.

She let out a relieved breath. “The thing is, I think I need that right now. And I think you do, too.”

“You’re killing me here, Lucy.”

“You’re a tough guy. You can handle it.”

“You overestimate me.”

“I don’t think so.”

His eyes were doing that burning thing again, and her heart rate accelerated once more. She needed to get him out of here while she still had some sense.

“Thank you for helping me,” she said. “I’ll make sure I’m dressed right next time.”

“You still look a little pale. Make sure you get warmed up.”

He held her gaze, as if he wasn’t quite ready to leave. Then he turned and went to the door, shutting it gently behind him.

?

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