Page 12 of Dangerous Lover

Caroline was shaking so hard she felt she would fall apart, the vision of the front of the truck bearing down on them still fresh in her eyes. She was gulping in air frantically, throat tight with panic.

Her seat belt was unlatched, massive arms pulled her to a broad chest.

Oh God, strength and safety.

She dove into him, huddling, trembling, arms tightly wound around his neck, breathing in panicked spurts, until the worst of the shaking died down.

A big hand held the back of her head, almost covering it. Caroline’s face was buried in his neck, the stubble along his jawbone scratching her forehead. Her nose was right against the pulse in his neck, beating steadily and slowly, like a metronome, in contrast to her own trip-hammering one.

There was the minty scent of snow, a pleasant musky odor that must have been him and, oddly, the smell of leather. His long black hair had come loose in the wind and it flowed around her face, surprisingly soft.

There was nothing soft about the body she was held against, though. It was like embracing steel. He’d pulled her tightly against himself as if he could absorb her wild trembling.

“It’s okay,” he murmured. She could feel the vibrations of his deep voice. “Nothing happened, it’s okay.”

It wasn’t okay, not by a long shot.

This was exactly how her parents had died—a bad snowstorm, black ice, a truck plowing into their car. A mangle of flesh and steel so horrendous it had taken the highway patrol six hours with the Jaws of Life to get their bodies out. There had barely been enough of her father to bury.

Caroline had woken up more nights than she could count in a sweat, imagining the last seconds of life of her parents. The terror as they saw the truck looming suddenly out of the snow, the heart-sickening realization that it was too late. Her father had been impaled on the steering wheel, his legs sheared off at the thighs. Her mother had lived for two weeks, in a coma.

And Toby, poor Toby. Sweet, gentle Toby. Condemned to live the next six years of his life in a wheelchair, in constantpain, only to die before he reached his 20thbirthday.

She saw that in her dreams, lived it, night after night after night. And in her nightmares was the constant presence of Death, coming to take her, too, as it had taken the rest of her family. She couldn’t hope to cheat it forever.

This had the dark, metallic taste of her nightmares, only it was real. But you learned to live with nightmares.

Caroline dug deep for control, found it, eased away from him.

“What was that?” Her voice was high-pitched and breathless. She looked up into Jack’s face, dark and intent. The only sign of stress was white lines of tension pinching his nostrils. He was being brave, so should she. She drew in a shuddering breath and tried to keep her voice level. “What happened to the car?”

“Tire blew,” he answered grimly. “Front left.”

Oh God,no. Her tires were old and bald. Caroline had been putting off buying new tires, hoping to hang on for at least another month, knowing it was foolish and knowing she had no choice.

She’d nearly had them killed because she couldn’t afford new tires. And now one of them was flat.

It was just too much. Changing a tire in this weather. How on earth did you change a tire in ablizzard?

“Do you have a spare and a jack?” he asked.

“Yes.” The spare was as old as the other tires, but she did have one, and a jack. Considering the condition of everything else in her life, it was probably rusted and would snap in two in the cold.

It was so tempting to just put her forehead down on thesteering wheel and weep out her rage and frustration, but as emotionally satisfying as it would be, it wouldn’t get them home.

A vicious blast of wind rocked the car and Caroline clutched Jack’s jacket for balance. Dear God, they couldn’t stay here while she dithered—they’d freeze to death. Caroline turned in her seat and put her hand on the door handle, hoping her hands would stop shaking soon.

“What do you think you’re doing?” That deep voice was harsh. Caroline looked over her shoulder in surprise. His brow was furrowed and he was frowning at her, the skin stretched tautly over his high cheekbones.

“Ah…” What did he think? They couldn’t stay here a moment longer than necessary. “Getting out to change the tire. We need to get home soon before the weather gets even worse. In a little while we won’t be able to drive in the streets.”

Night had fallen. The glow from the street lights couldn’t penetrate the snow and it was almost completely dark in the car. All she could see of him was the whites of his eyes and his white teeth. He touched her arm, briefly.

“Pop the trunk and stay in here. Don’t open your door, not even for a second.”

There wasn’t time to protest. The passenger side door opened briefly and he slipped out. In that one second that the door was open, a gust of wind blew a snow flurry into the car’s cabin, sucking out the heat. Caroline opened the trunk and heard metal clanging in the back.

A second later, he was at her front left fender, jacking the car up, working almost blind. Every once in a while, thefierce wind would part the curtain of snow and she could see him, large and dark and intent, kneeling by the fender. She switched on the overhead light, hoping it could help in some small degree, though she doubted it. It probably comforted her more than helped him.

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