“No! Sherry, wake up!” He picked her up and cradled her against him.
She was so cold. Her heart beat weak and faint, but it still beat. Her breathing was shallow and slow, but she was alive. Pressure built in his chest until he shook inside.
Why was she outside of the car? Had she been looking for him? This was his fault. He’d put his mate in danger and he’d never forgive himself for doing so. One thing he was determined of. He would not let her die. No force on heaven or earth or hell could take her from him now. He’d save her.
He carried her back to the Jeep, started it, put her on the back seat, stripped her clothes off, then took his off as well. He reached in and pulled the latch to unlock the back of the seat and folded it down.
He climbed in, shut the door, lay down, pulled her against his chest, and spooned her. After pulling the blanket over them, he wrapped himself around her. His body nearly covered her entire tiny frame. She was so cold, so still. He kissed the top of her head and rested his cheek on the silky, red locks.
“Please, Sherry. Take my heat. Get warm, baby.” He whispered the words, willing her to do as he said.
An hour later he had no choice but to turn the engine off to preserve what little fuel was left, and she started shaking. He held her tight against him while her teeth chattered and she clutched at him. He rubbed her back, trying to soothe her and coax the warmth back into her body.
“It’s okay. I’m here now. I’m so sorry I wasn’t back when I said I’d be.
Please wake up.” For the first time in more years than he could remember, he wanted to cry. He wanted to cry, scream, and beat on something until he was exhausted. How could he have let this happen to her?
“Piers?” His name whispered from her lips.
“Sherry?” He choked back a sob.
He leaned back, looked down at her, and framed her face with his hands.
She blinked her eyes several times before opening them. She smiled up at him, and a rush of relief swept through him like a tsunami. She still shivered, but it was slight compared to the earlier body-wracking shakes. She buried her face against his chest and wiggled closer to his warmth.
“You are so warm. I swear you are like a heater,” she said through clattering teeth.
“You scared the hell out of me. What were you doing outside of the car?”
“When you didn’t come back, I got worried. I didn’t mean to get so far away from the car. I-I didn’t realize I would get so cold so fast. It all happened so quickly. I didn’t understand what was happening until it was too late. I’m so sorry.”
“I’m sorry. This is my fault. I should have been back when I said.”
“It’s not your fault, Piers. I made the choice to get out of the car.” She looked up at him, and placed a delicate palm against his cheek.
“No. It’s my job to protect you, and you almost died because of me. I shouldn’t have left you.”
Sherry couldn’t believe Piers was blaming himself for what had happened. It was no one’s fault but her own. She was an adult and had made a bad choice. She vaguely remembered bits and pieces of when he found her.
Although she’d been in and out—more in than out—of consciousness, his distress had been palpable. And the thought that she’d made him feel responsible for her predicament tore at her heart.
He’d held on to her like a drowning man would hang on to a raft, as if his life depended on her survival. And the only thing she had been able to think about was that she had never made love with him, had never told him that she cared for him, that she...loved him. It was too soon for love, but even so, she knew it to be the truth. He proved time and again that her feelings, her safety, were important to him. He did care for her, and she didn’t want to wait to be with him any longer.
“Piers?” She stroked her fingers over his stubbly cheek, enjoying the texture of his growing beard.
“Yeah.” His voice heated her nearly as effectively as his body.
“Did you take my clothes off?”
“I took mine off too. It was the fastest way to warm you up.”
“Mm hmm. I appreciate you warming me up, by the way. As long as we are already naked”—she smiled up at him—“make love to me.”
“Sherry, you almost froze to de—”
“Shh.” She covered his lips with her fingers. “I’m fine now, thanks to you. Stop blaming yourself for what happened. It’s over now and you saved me.”
“When I saw you lying in the snow…” He closed his eyes.
“Stop. I’m okay.” She caressed his cheek tenderly. “You aren’t going to make me ask again, are you?”
“If I was an honorable man, I’d keep my hands to myself and leave you after this whole ordeal is over. I’m no good for you. But hell if I’m man enough to resist an invitation like that.”
He took her mouth with a demanding kiss laced with desperation. He wanted her as badly as she wanted him, and she could feel the fast thump of his heart against her, the excited beat matching her own. His tongue delved into her mouth and she groaned at his erotic, spicy taste. He deepened the kiss, and she cried out when he cupped her breast.
His touch inspired a boldness in her that she never knew existed. Even though she was inexperienced, he made her feel sexy, beautiful. His every caress felt as though he were worshipping her. She ran the heel of her foot up his calf and his other hand reached around to cup her ass, bringing her tight against his groin. His heavy shaft pressed between them and lay against her belly. The sheer size of him gave her a moment’s pause, but he wouldn’t hurt her. She knew he wouldn’t.
He rotated his hips against her and groaned. His need sparked a need in her that nearly stole her breath. She ached for him and her body wept for him. She almost cried out when he broke their kiss and rested his forehead against hers.
“God, Sherry. I want to take this slow, but I’m not sure I can the first time. I want you so bad, I can barely breathe.”
“I feel the same.” His raspy words made her shiver. “I want you to take me however you want, Piers. I just want to be with you.”
“Touch me. Please.” He wrapped his fingers around her hand and guided it toward his cock.
He released her and held his breath as she trailed along his abdomen and finally encircled him. He covered her hand with his own and showed her how to stroke him, then growled when she mimicked the moves he’d taught her only seconds before. He felt like velvet over steel, and her fingers barely touched around him. The moisture beading at the thick head was slick and made her strokes glide over him effortlessly. The whole act seemed more erotic in the dark with the gentle light of the moon popping out here and there through the dissipating clouds and snow.
“Sweet mercy.” He gently tugged her hand from him. “If you continue that, I’ll shame us both.”
He guided her hand to rest on his hip and slipped his fingers between them. She gasped when one long finger slid along her slick, wet folds before diving inside her, and she dug her nails in him as waves of pleasure rolled through her. His thumb landed on her clit and drew circles around her sensitive flesh. Pressure built low in her belly as he continued to stroke her, and she desperately strained against him, knowing he was the only one that could relieve the ache throbbing between her legs.
He took her mouth again and plunged his tongue inside when she gasped. His kiss excited her, calmed her. She felt safe in his arms, cherished...loved. Did he love her? He cared for her, but she wanted more from him. She wanted all of him. He had her heart and she wanted his, but would he be willing to give it to her?