Page 12 of Mountain Man's Naughty List
“You don’t have to—” she starts.
I peel off my jacket. “It’s fine. I’ve done this before.”
“That doesn’t make it smart.”
“Smart’s overrated.”
Before she can stop me, I step to the edge and dive.
The shock is immediate, a thousand knives of cold. It steals my breath, clamps around my ribs, turns the world to white noise. For a second I forget which way is up. Then instinct kicks in, and I push toward the light, breaking the surface with a shout that steams in the air.
“Holy hell!”
Liz’s face flashes above me, horrified and furious. “Get out!”
I laugh, shaking water from my hair. “Come on! It’s refreshing!”
“Refreshing myfoot—you’re going to die!”
“Then I die clean!”
She’s still yelling when her boot slips on the ice. There’s a sharp crack, a gasp—and the world jerks sideways.
One second she’s there, the next there’s only the echo of her scream and a swirl of bubbles where she fell through. Adrenaline wipes out every rational thought. I dive, slicing through the opening, the cold punching into me like a fist.
For a heartbeat I can’t see her. The water is ink, the light from above fractured and dim. Panic claws at my chest.
Save her.
Then—movement. A flash of her coat, her hand reaching up.
I grab it, haul her close, kick hard toward the hole. She’s heavier with the weight of soaked clothes, limp with shock. My lungs burn, but I don’t stop until we break the surface. Her gasp is the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard.
“I’ve got you,” I rasp, dragging us both onto the ice. My hands shake but I don’t let go. Her lips are blue, eyes wide and glassy.
“Don’t—don’t you ever—” she stammers.
“Talk later,” I grunt, scooping her up. She’s shivering so hard her teeth chatter against my chest. “We need heat now.”
Inside the cabin, everything blurs into motion. I strip off my soaked clothes, wrap her in blankets, build the fire until it roars. My fingers are clumsy, but I get her bundled on the rug in front of the hearth, half sitting against me so her body steals my warmth.
Her breath saws in and out. “I—I’m okay.”
“Liar.” I press the mug of hot tea against her hands. “Drink.”
She does, obedient for once, and I could kiss her for it. Steam fogs the air. The firelight paints gold on her skin where the blanket slips from her shoulder. Every protective instinct I’ve ever had wakes up all at once.
“You scared the hell out of me,” I whisper.
“You scared me first.” Her voice is small but steady. “You went under so fast—I thought?—”
I tighten my arm around her. “Not going anywhere.”
She leans back against me, head resting under my chin. “You’re shaking.”
“Adrenaline,” I say. But it’s more than that. It’s the feel of her heartbeat against my ribs, the trust in her weight as she relaxes against me. The way her fingers find mine under the blanket, intertwining without hesitation.
Minutes pass before the tremors fade. The silence fills with the sound of logs popping and the steady rhythm of her breathing.
