Page 8 of Lachlan

Belle frowned, shaking her head as she continued to look at the tall and imposing man. “I checked when I first came in here, and I didn’t find an opening in the back of the cave.”

“But of course there is,” the silver-haired man dismissed. “Otherwise, how would I have been able to come through that way and find you?”

How indeed?

But Bellehadsearched this cave thoroughly yesterday when she’d first stumbled across it and still had the light on her cell phone to look around. The wall at the back had been uneven, yes, but also unbroken by any sort of opening or entrance, let alone one big enough to allow this huge man to pass through.

“Come and see.” The man bent slightly to hold out one of his large hands, palm upward, for her to take.

An assistance to stand Belle knew she was going to need if she was going to be able to move at all, her extremities feeling as frozen as the rest of her.

The fingers of her right hand, even though they were inside a glove, felt as if they had frozen in place where they gripped her backpack to her chest. The backpack held all her worldly goods, most especially Sister Agnes’s journal.

Belle stared at the large hand this man held out to her, the fact he wasn’t wearing a glove allowing her to see how long his fingers were, his palms slightly calloused.

“Please,” the man encouraged softly.

Belle was filled with a compulsion to do as he asked.

Acompulsion?

Ridiculous.

Obviously, being outside for a day and night, exposed to the severity of the elements, must have given her brain freeze.

She kept her gaze lowered as she reluctantly held out her free hand. She was already sure this man’s overwhelming presence was adding to her mental confusion. Touching him might just blow the top of her head off.

“Take off your glove first.”

Belle blinked as she looked up at him quizzically, only to immediately become lost in the depths of those enigmatic silver eyes.

“Give me your bare hand,” Lachlan encouraged again softly, needing to feel the touch of this young woman’s skin against his own. Toknowwith absolute certaintythrough that touch that she really was his mate.

True mate. His growling dragon let him know it didn’t have any such doubts.

The moment Lachlan’s bare fingers came into contact with the young lady’s, any lingering doubt he might have had instantly disappeared.

The ecstasy he felt was so intense, he almost fell to his knees.

His fingers tightened about hers, her hand tiny in his much-larger one, her skin velvety soft to the touch.

He pulled her to her feet, his senses instantly assailed by a deeper waft of honeysuckle. The same scent Lachlan had followed through the caverns in his search for her.

“Who are you?” she prompted shakily when a pull of her hand failed to release it from his grip.

Lachlan couldn’t have let her go even if he’d tried. The moment their flesh touched, it had been as if their skin burned, searing them together, so there was no her or him, only the single entity ofus.

He knew Belle had felt that fusing heat too, had seen it in the widening of her eyes and the sudden flush of her cheeks.

Her other hand continued to maintain a tight grip on the backpack she’d been holding so fiercely against her when he entered the cave.

“I definitely checked the back of this cave when I stumbled into it yesterday, and there wasn’t an opening then.” Her accusing tone was full of suspicion.

“I assure you there is one.” Lachlan gentled his voice, sensing Belle was on the verge of what might be a full-scale mental meltdown.

Not surprising when she’d become lost up on the mountain, then sat alone in a dark and freezing-cold cave for hours with only her own thoughts for company. She must have been terrified. Had possibly even thought she was going to die alone up here.

“Lachlan Drake,” he introduced belatedly.

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