me," she warned. "I won't take no for an answer." She helped him to the bedroom, allowing him to fall on the bed. The bedsprings creaked in protest. "Can you take aspirin? Should I get you to a doctor?"
"No drugs," he mumbled, then closed his eyes. "And no doctor. Just go. I'll be all right."
She had serious doubts that he'd be all right when his teeth started clicking against one another. His body shivered uncontrollably. Chills and fever? That sounded like a dangerous combination to her. She wondered if he'd refused drugs because he couldn't take them, or simply because he'd wanted to get rid of her. His medicine chest should tell her what he could or could not tolerate.
The medicine cabinet was empty. A toothbrush, obviously recently used, and a bottle of mouthwash sat on the counter. She opened a drawer. Toothpaste, floss, but no drugs. Not even Band-Aids. Another cabinet held towels and washcloths. She snatched a washcloth and ran it under cold water.
Rushing back into the bedroom, she sat next to him. He moaned. Her worry increased. Should she contact someone? She hadn't noticed a phone, and she'd left her cell phone in her Jeep. If worse came to worst, she could run back to camp and get her vehicle. The small town she'd driven through last night wasn't far. Surely they had a doctor or a clinic of some kind. She placed the cool cloth against his forehead. He grabbed her wrist.
"Easy," she said, wondering why she used her animal-soothing tone with him. "I'm only trying to help you."
His eyes opened, his brilliant blue gaze locking with hers. In a voice that sounded perfectly lucid, he said, "Then kill me."
Part 3 Chapter Two
His hand fell away and his eyes closed. She sat frozen in place. It was probably the fever talking, not him. Still, she couldn't dismiss the look in his eyes when he'd whispered the plea. She'd seen it before. Suffering. The look of an animal in pain; the same look in her father's eyes the last year of his life.
She shuddered, rubbing her arms although she wore her jacket and the room felt uncomfortably warm. It was a nice room, she noticed. Nothing fancy, but the antique furniture and the homemade quilt on the bed gave it a cozy, lived-in look. There were no pictures on the walls. A mirror hung over an old dresser, and a rosary lay on the nightstand next to the bed.
Donavon. Irish Catholic. That made sense. The feather-soft feel of the mattress beneath her sang a siren's song. It would beat a sleeping bag on the hard ground, and she'd gotten very little sleep the previous night. But she couldn't sleep, anyway. Not until she knew if Rick Donavon would be all right, or if she needed to get him to a doctor. She glanced down at him.
He looked at peace despite the unnatural sheen of his skin. His lashes were dark, thick, and enviably long. His every feature looked as if it had been specially designed to fit his face. Puzzle pieces that made up a striking picture. Stephanie glanced away. She shouldn't gawk at him while he lay helpless.
She'd obviously been on her own for too long. Cut off from civilization. Once, she'd thought this was the life she wanted?the life she needed. But three years of solitude had taken its toll. She missed her parents?missed being part of a family. And then there was the matter of men, or the lack of them in her life. Studying her patient, she had to admit that her first reaction to seeing him naked had surprised her. Immediate lust was not an emotion that she'd ever experienced before.
As if he sensed her appraisal of him, Rick tossed, mumbling incoherently. Stephanie placed a hand against his forehead, more careful this time. He still felt too warm, but not so hot that she thought desperate measures should be taken. She'd give him a while longer. If his fever broke, chances were he'd be all right. If it didn't, she'd have to figure out how to haul him to her Jeep. All six feet three inches, probably close to two hundred pounds of him. The other side of the bed tempted her. She moved around him and climbed onto the soft mattress. Weary, she closed her eyes. She just wanted to rest them for a moment.
The hunters chased him again. Only this time, the men had hair on their faces and long