Page 12 of The Reluctant Wolf and His Fated Mate
She bolted upright. “Where am I? Why am I here?”
She peeked under the white down comforter that covered her. When she saw that she was clothed, she exhaled. She’d been stripped down to her base layers, but remained covered.
“It’s okay, Sophie.” His deep voice was gentle. He motioned with a downward gesture. “Everything’s going to be okay.”
What was going on? She tossed the comforter off her and lowered her feet to the floor. As soon as her bare feet touched the hardwood floor and she put her weight on them, gravity interfered. Her knees buckled. As she collapsed, she reached back for the bed. Before her hand met the soft fabric, he was there. He wrapped his arms around her and prevented her from falling.
“Easy. You need to recover.” He lifted her to an upright position.
She stared up at him. He kept his hands on her sides, ensuring she didn’t fall, which was a good thing since her legs were definitely unsteady. A flash of how he’d held her in a similar embrace in the club when they danced flooded her. She’d never felt so hot, burning with need. Never wanted someone like that before.
But screw that.That was before she woke up with no recollection of him and ending up in a strange room. Something was very wrong.
She struggled to escape his hold, but he held her steady by the arms. “Why am I here? Did you kidnap me?”
His eyes widened. “No, of course not.” After two heartbeats, he added, “Please sit down and I’ll explain.”
Since she felt lightheaded, her options were to have him continue to hold her or sit. “Fine.” When he lessened his hold, she sat back on the bed and crossed her arms. “Why am I here in a bedroom with you, Damon?”
He strode back to the armchair. She watched him, drinking in the sight of his strong, masculine figure. Ugh, why would she do that?
Once he sat down, he fixed his gaze on her. “I work in ski patrol here on the mountain. On my last run, I found your tracks leading off trail. I found you unconscious, so I carried you back here to care for you.”
An image of the terror from last night returned. The wolves fighting. She’d run from them, back into the woods and slipped. So that meant Damon had helped her. Maybe her initial distrust of him wasn’t warranted.
“The last thing I remember is falling.”
“You might have hit your head then.” His eyes revealed concern. “I checked you last night for injuries.”
She squirmed. How thoroughly had he explored her body while she’d been unconscious?
“Well, thank you for helping me, but where am I? The lodge?” She glanced out one of the two windows in the room, both of which revealed nothing more than snow-covered trees.
He broke eye contact and glanced down. “This is my home.”
She blinked at least three times before she formulated a response. “Your home?” She arched her brows. “Is that the traditional protocol for treating someone who’s hurt while skiing?”
“No.” He ran his hands through the front of his hair and averted eye contact. “I brought you here because I recognized you, and I wanted to care for you myself.”
Her pulse quickened. He wanted to care for her. But why? They’d had one sultry dance six months ago before she snapped out of her lusty haze of attempting to be a bad girl and retreated back to her safe, boring world. She’d often fantasized about changing her actions that night. If she hadn’t freaked out and ran off, it could have led to a much more satisfying outcome. No one had given her any of those sizzling feelings since that night.
Still, what would entice him to bring an unconscious near-stranger into his home?
“This doesn’t make sense.” She ran both hands through her hair only to be stopped by tangles. She tugged through the snarls, but gave up since they were the least of her concerns. “You barely know me. Why would you care? Why not just send me to a hospital if you thought I needed medical help?”
Damon’s warm eyes flashed with determination. “I’m fully trained and capable of treating you. I brought you here so I could look over you and be sure you were safe. But yes, I can take you over to get checked out by first aid.”
“Am I in your bedroom?”
“No.” He shook his head. “My room is on the other side of this wall.”
So many conflicting thoughts rushed through her mind, ranging from gratefulness for his concern, to confusion by his strange manner of caring for her. She pursed her lips and glanced around, looking for a clock.
“Do you know what time it is?”
“Around eight.”
“Where’s my jacket?”
