Page 14 of Saving Mr. Bell

Arlo had taken hold of my hand, the gesture surprisingly intimate despite us both wearing gloves and my hands being so numb that I doubted I’d have been able to feel him even if I wasn’t. He was using the grip to pull me along faster, Arlo clearly no more a fan of bumping into a wolf than I was. “Couldn’t you have abducted me in Acapulco? You could have dragged me off to a house on the beach where I could sunbathe naked and work on getting a tan?”

Arlo laughed. “You’ve never toured in Acapulco.”

“I know. Musical philistines, the lot of them. I should go there, anyway. Have you ever been?” Talking made me feel better, even if my teeth were chattering so much that words were a struggle, and I wasn’t entirely sure what I was talking about.

“Acapulco?”

“Yeah.”

“No, I haven’t. It’s a very specific place to bring up. I’m not even sure where it is exactly.”

“Mexico. I don’t know why it came to mind.” The cabin was in sight now. I could almost feel its warmth reaching out to me. “Going loco in Acapulco, maybe. You know that song?”

“Yeah, but I’m surprised you do.”

“Why? Because I’m supposed to eat and breathe classical music? I am allowed to listen to other stuff. I like a lot of old songs.”

“Like what?” Arlo seemed just as keen to keep me talking as I was on doing it. Either he was concerned I might collapse, and he’d have to carry me the rest of the way, or he appreciated something to think about other than wolves. Which of course got me thinking about wolves again and ignoring Arlo’s question about music. “Will they come to the cabin? Snow must make it more difficult for them to hunt, right? They might come looking for food.”

“I like the fact that you keep asking me questions about them, like I know the first thing about them. How many wolves do we have in the UK?”

“Zero.”

“Exactly.” He paused. “The cabin’s secure, though.”

“I hope so.”

“It is.”

We’d reached the ‘secure cabin,’ Arlo yanking the door open he’d not stopped to lock, and both of us throwing ourselves across the threshold. This time, he locked it and pulled the bolt across. When he turned to face me, he winced. “Shit! You’re blue.”

Shivers were wracking my body now, the warmth of the cabin only seeming to make me colder. I wasn’t sure I’d ever be warmagain. Arlo gave me a little shove toward the bathroom, my physical state so poor I couldn’t have resisted even if I wanted to.

“Take your clothes off,” Arlo urged. There was a joke there somewhere, but I couldn’t grasp onto it, never mind vocalize it. “Once you’re undressed, get in the shower and stay in there for a while.” He helped me off with my outerwear like I was a child. Is that how he saw me, like I’d always remained seventeen in his head? It would go some way to explaining why he thought I needed rescuing, and why he thought he was the person to do it. Who else did I have, though? My mother died when I was seven, and most other people in my life had been hired by my father and reported to him.

“Can you do the rest yourself?” There was no impatience in Arlo’s tone, just a quiet concern.

“What?”

“The rest of your clothes? I can help you if not. I don’t mind.”

If I hadn’t had the approximate core temperature of an icicle, I might have blushed. Which was strange. Since when did I blush? I got plenty of sex and wasn’t shy about it. “I can manage.”

“Great.” Arlo backed off a few steps with an unreadable expression on his face. Did he want to undress me? That was food for thought once my brain started working properly again. “Wait… One minute.” He ran out of the bathroom, returning in less than a minute with a fluffy white bathrobe in his hands. “Put this on when you get out of the shower. I’ll put some soup on so we can warm you from the inside. Call me if you need help after all.”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine.” I wasn’t sure at all, but it seemed like the right thing to say. However, peeling my sodden clothes off with fingers stiff from the cold proved quite the challenge. So much so that by the time I managed it and stepped into the shower, I was considering adding it to my CV—that I didn’t have—under my greatest achievements. As I tipped my head back beneaththe warm water, I had to concede that as escapes went, mine wouldn’t be breaking any records in terms of success.

Chapter Six

Arlo

Rudolf took my advice and stayed in the shower for a while. Long enough that the image of him slumped in there refused to leave my head and I shouted through the door on three separate occasions to check he hadn’t passed out and was okay. By the third time of asking, Rudolf’s shouted response over the sound of the water held a great deal of irritation. Enough to makeme fear for my life if I persisted. If he was well enough to get annoyed, how bad could he be?

My newfound confidence in him bouncing back quickly lasted until he left the bathroom and I saw his face. He might have lost the bluish tinge, but he was still too pale. I immediately pooled all the spare blankets in the cabin and bundled him beneath them on the sofa. Finding a hot water bottle stuffed at the back of a cupboard, I filled it and insisted he hold it.

“You missed your calling,” Rudolf said as he dutifully accepted the offering and it disappeared into the blanket mound.

“What?”

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