Page 10 of Mountain Man's Valentine
He steps closer to me and I expect him to put his hand out to help me up, but instead he wraps his arms under me andliftsme up the way I knew he could, the way I wanted him to, placing me back down on my feet softly, and when I land, I still feel lighter than air.
“You’re shivering,” he says, unwinding his scarf from his neck. I bow my head as he puts it around my neck, nestling it into the hood of my coat, under my chin. His fingers brush against my neck as he moves to keep me warm. And I can’t explain it, but a pulse of warm energy radiates through me.
It’s the same one I felt when I saw his eyes for the first time. When he looked at me.
When hesawme.
My head is swimming with something unknown, something I can’t name...I can’t even describe it.
“You know you’re trespassing on my property, don’t you?”
His voice comes out as almost a whisper, but I can hear him loud and clear. His voice is deep and domineering, and the idea that I’m somewhere I’m not supposed to be - that I should never have gotten into this mess, should never have been rescued by this big,bigman, makes me nearly quiver with apprehension.
But it’sdelicious.
“I was playing this game,” I begin to explain. “It’s this thing they do every year. That we do, I mean. Well, not every year. This is my second year. I -”
“Stop talking,” he says taking a step toward me, pulling me into him quietly, with just his words. “Just. Stop.”
I nearly gasp as he puts his finger under my chin, his gaze piercing right through me, sending heat spearing between my legs. I feel my thighs clench up involuntarily as he slowly tips my chin up, his eyes scanning my face, from my eyes to my lips and back again.
I struggle to breathe, and I feel the muscles inside my neck tense up as I swallow thickly, struggling to find something to say.
But hedidtell me to stop talking.
I guess I can’t help but obey him.
He scans my face again. But then he allows his eyes to go lower. He scans down to my chest, my belly, even my legs, and even though I’m bundled up in my warmest coat and boots, I feel like he is really seeing me, and like hewantsme.
I feel my lip pull between my bottom teeth and I bite down gently to keep myself from whimpering right here.
My body turns warmer and warmer with each passing second, with each lazy, intense, hard, soft movement of his eyes over the features of my face, my curves that are hidden just under my winter clothes.
He slips one warm, strong hand behind my neck, the tenderness in his touch making me feelcrazy.
“What is your name, sweetness?” he asking softly, in his intoxicating, sweet voice.
“It’s Valoria.”
“Val,” he says. “That’s a beautiful name, Valoria.”
Oh, the way he says my name makes it sound so different. It sounds like someone else’s name. The way he says it makes me feel like I’m a different person.
“It means brave,” he says, pushing the pads of his fingers into the back of my neck, so softly, but with an intensity that makes mewet.
“I know,” I say. My voice is small, meek. Idon’tfeel brave. I don’t feel like I have to stand up to adversity or that I have to push myself or sacrifice or struggle.
I feel like I have togivemyself over to this man. I feel hopelessly drawn to him.
And it is not scary. It feels inevitable. Like the only thing in the world that makes sense. The only thing in the world that’severmade sense.
Behind him, I see the start of a fresh snowfall dotting the sky, falling between the trees, and the snowflakes finally completing their journey, falling around us and drifting slowly to the ground.
“I think your little game is over,” he says. “It’s dark. Everyone’s gone. And I don’t know if you’ll be able to get back to the camp on time.”
My heart flutters into my chest.
What is hesaying?
“I don’t know if I’ll be able to get back on time, either,” I say. “So what am I supposed to do?”
His chest rises and falls, his shirt pulled taught inside his coat, stretching against his broad chest.
“You are coming with me,” he growls. I feel a few snowflakes flutter against my eyelashes. “You’re coming with me.”
His fingers trail around from behind my neck and around to the front, under the scarf he’s pulled onto me.
“You’re coming with me.”
