“What’s wrong?”
He let out a hiss of pain. “My back hurts.”
She moved behind him and found streaks of fiery red crisscrossing his back. What the hell? Anger surged as she wondered if the marks were from an assault. She hated the idea of anyone hurting him . . . or even touching him. Then she paused and shook her head. You just met this man, she reminded herself, but she couldn’t seem to keep that in focus. The intensity of their closeness in some of her dreams kept surfacing. She felt like she already had a long history with him. So surreal.
“Your back looks really inflamed. How hot did you have the water during your shower?”
He twisted from side to side. “Not very hot, but my back burns like someone touched a flame to it. And underneath the skin, my muscles feel as though they’re being twisted around a sword hilt, sometimes nicking the blade itself.”
“I can’t tell if these are burns or a rash or contused skin from an injury. We should go to a hospital, so they can run some tests.”
“No.”
“Yes. Pain means there’s a problem. We have no idea how you ended up in the snow. Maybe you were assaulted. There could be internal damage and bleeding.”
He twisted and stretched. She watched his muscles bunch and contract. No bones jutted out of place or gave an indication of serious injury.
“I’m not badly hurt,” he said. “I feel certain of that.”
“Okay,” she said, but continued to scrutinize him.
He does look all right. Better than all right actually.
She admired his broad shoulders and the slope of his muscles as they tapered to his waist. From her dreams she knew the feel of him; his body was like stone wrapped in velvet.
Her fingers reached out, unable to resist any longer. Before her fingertips could stroke his skin, he turned as if sensing she was about to touch him. Their eyes locked, the air suddenly charged.
“What are you doing, Kate?” he asked, his voice low and sexy.
She looked at her outstretched hand and licked her lips. His full attention centered on her, making her heart pound. She basked in the heat that radiated from him, and, after a moment’s hesitation, she swallowed. “You said you aren’t badly hurt. I wanted to check for myself.” The moment stretched as they watched each other.
“How would you . . . check?” he murmured, his lids lowering as he focused on her lips. She could only see alluring glimpses of hazel through his dark lashes. Mesmerized, a slow burn warmed her deep inside.
“I’d just . . .” She trailed off as she walked around him. The smooth skin invited her touch. She laid a palm against him, the satin heat enticing her. His muscles tightened, and he looked over his shoulder at her, his breath slightly ragged. She recognized the raw hunger in his gaze.
I know that look.
Her lids drifted closed, and she spiraled down into the mountain-ridge dream.
The fading light curved around him as an amber halo. Her body was stretched naked over a mattress covered in soft cotton sheets.
She arched up as he bent his head and captured her nipple. Under his mouth and teasing teeth, the torture was exquisite. She writhed, restless for more.
He pushed her legs apart. She lay open for him, her need tight as a bowstring fully stretched. When he raised his head, his smile was purely male, a warrior laying claim to the spoils of war, instincts as old as time driving them both. He stroked her, stoking an internal fire. She couldn’t catch her breath, and her legs spread wider, inviting a deeper touch.
Powerful fingers thrust inside her, her body clenching, throbbing, seeking.
Please, she moaned. And then she gripped his shoulders as he moved above her, his voice a low rumble in her ear as he slid inside her moist heat, stretching and filling her. She sank her nails into his flesh.
“Yes, Kate, hold on tight while I take you. You’re mine,” he said in a ruthless rasp, deep with lust. “Your flesh will know the full measure of my love even if you’re sore for days.”
She screamed in orgasm in the dream and shuddered in orgasm in real life.
Wracked with sensations more incredible than any she’d felt with a real lover, she trembled. Her eyes fluttered open and she stared at him, breathlessly. His cheeks were flushed, his pupils dilated. The front of his towel tented forward.
He felt that, too. Whatever is between us, it’s mutual.
She sucked in air, her hands shaky, her skin tingling, her womb throbbing. At the moment, he looked so beautiful to her. The overhead light fractured around him in an echo of the sunset gilding him on the dream mountain.