Page 13 of Hot Buttered Rum

“I’m sorry, I’m not usually such a crybaby. After coming to the nightmarish conclusion that I would be swept away into the endless sea, you were such a sight to see.”

Turner set to work removing my boots. “You can cry all you want, my soaking wet beauty, but I need to get you out of these clothes before you bite through your tongue with those chattering teeth.”

He reached for the buttons on my shirt and hesitated for just a second to make sure it was all right.

“I don’t think prim and proper is helpful when I’m about to freeze to death.” My words were beginning to sound long and stretched as if I’d been drinking. Not a good sign. Turner seemed to come to the same conclusion. He undressed me. My limbs flopped weakly as if I’d somehow left my bones behind in the cold, restless sea.

“I’m sorry I’m not more help but nothing seems to be working right now. With the exception of my tear ducts. They’re working overtime,” I rambled on with long, slow words.

The boat lurched abruptly to one side. Turner caught me before I pitched sideways off the bed.

My body was so numb with cold, I hadn’t even realized that I was completely naked until his warm hands wrapped around my waist. He lifted me farther onto the bed and wrapped me in the blankets. They had the same soapy scent that I’d smelled on him the night before when he’d had me pressed between the wall and his hard body.

“Your sheets smell good. Like you,” I muttered. It seemed being close to hypothermia had some of the same side effects as too many glasses of wine. “Why do I feel drunk?” I asked trying to keep my eyes open.

“That’s your body slowing down because of the drop in temperature.”

My eyes were drifting shut until the image in front of me popped them open and gave me a little shot of sobriety. Turner had pulled off his shirt. His arms were even better than I’d imagined. The tattoos on his shoulders bulged and stretched as he rolled off his wet jeans.

“I’m not trying to take advantage of you. I just need to use my body heat to keep you alive.” He stepped out of his shoes and jeans and straightened.

He’d left on his boxer briefs. They fit snugly around him. There wasn’t anything disappointing about the man. Quite the opposite in fact. He was the perfect romance hero and then some. And those last words floated through my head. I’d seen them before. “. . . where every heart’s desire is filled . . . and then some,” I muttered as the cold in my bones and blood began to pull me into a fuzzy sleep.

The small bed creaked as Turner lifted the covers and climbed in next to me. “Cuddle close, my frozen treat. This is the only way I can think to warm you up fast.”

He wrapped his arms around me and held me tightly. I scooted as close as I could and worked hard to make sure every inch of my skin was touching his. Slowly, the numbness melted away, and I could feel his warmth transfer to me.

Moments before, I was freezing and terrified that I would die alone in the sea, but now I was warm and safe in the arms of a man who I’d only met yesterday, a man who I was certain I would not soon forget.

The motion of the boat made me even more sleepy, but before I drifted off in my perfectly awesome man cocoon, I peered up at him. He looked at me through his dark lashes.

“If I do happen to die while I’m tucked in this bed with you, I just wanted to say thank you. It’s a really great way to go.” I closed my eyes and fell asleep.

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