Polar Bared (5 page)

Kudos to him, he didn’t give up. Her chivalrous naked knight had her piggyback him. Even for a dream, the whole string of events was odd, but oddest of all was the desire she had to straddle his front and not his back. Such a naughty thing for her to think. Brazen too, as brazen as what she did next.

I can’t believe dream-me had the nerve to give him a kiss.
On the cheek, but still, that was bold by her standards.

Her dead husband wasn’t one to enjoy emotional displays. They rarely did more than peck, and when he did his husbandly duty, in the dark, every few weeks, there was little touching of any body parts. But it had always been that way since they first started dating when she was seventeen until his death six years later.

Really, she had to wonder what the big deal was about sex. Sure, she didn’t have much experience to measure by—she had, after all, married her high school sweetheart and hadn’t dated since his demise—but still, she couldn’t imagine the big fuss. It was okay.

Except, kissing her dream rescuer wasn’t the same. It was hot. Just not hot enough to stop the cold from making her fall asleep and missing what happened next. What a dull ending to a hot dream.

Or was that the end?

Because for one thing, she wasn’t dead. Nor was she cold any longer.
On the contrary, every inch of her was toasty warm pressed as it was against a very naked, male body.

Naked?

Male body?

Eek!

Her eyes popped open, but she didn’t see much given her face was smooshed against some smooth skin and a blanket seemed to cover her head. The biggest question though was, whose skin did she cuddle?

Barely daring to breath, she listened and took stock of what she could perceive. Visually, nothing, but physically… Damn, the bare chest she rested against wasn’t the only thing lacking clothing.

I’m naked too.
Naked and cocooned in a set of arms that wrapped around her with ease and thick legs that trapped her own. Oh, and whoever did the hugging really seemed to enjoy the pose, or so the jab against her stomach indicated.

Oh this is bad. So very, very bad.

While she’d lain unconscious dreaming of polar bears and a muscled, naked man, someone, a stranger, had found her and taken her back to his lair and stripped her to…

Cuddle? Or had more nefarious things taken place while she was unconscious?

“I know you’re awake,” a deep voice declared, the rumble of it vibrating against her cheek where it lay his chest.

“No, I’m not.” Oops, had she said that aloud?

Judging by his heavy sigh? She had.

“Yes, you are. Finally. Or are you going to faint again just to prove me wrong?”

She winced. He’d seen her doing that, had he? “I’ll try not to pass out again. But I can’t help it. It happens when I get really scared.”

“Then we might have a problem.”

“Why, do you intend to frighten me?” Again, she spoke without thinking then cringed. What was wrong with her? She was in an unknown place plastered to a naked man, and here she was trying to intentionally goad him.

“Not on purpose. However, I can’t help my looks.”

He thought she’d faint because he was butt ugly? She wasn’t that shallow. Actually, she liked to think she wasn’t shallow at all, just timid. “I’m more frightened right now because of…um…that is...” She couldn’t state that the fact they were glued together skin to skin was the scariest thing right now. What did he intend? What had he already done? What did he want with her?

A thread of amusement entered his reply. “In case you’re wondering, we’re naked in this sleeping bag together because it’s the best and fastest way to warm someone suffering from hypothermia. So don’t freak out. Keeping you alive is the only reason we’re plastered together.”

“Oh.” Of course he’d have a rational explanation. So why was she a tad disappointed her unknown rescuer didn’t feel a need to ravish her?

“I did not take advantage of the situation.” She let out a sigh of relief. “But I could have,” he added more ominously.

She squeaked and went still, holding even her breath.

“Did you faint?” he asked in that deep rumble of his that slid over her skin in a most intriguing fashion.

“No.” Was that her sounding defensive?

“It’s a miracle,” was his sarcastic reply.

Smartass. She wisely kept that retort to herself. “So how long do we need to stay like this?” she asked, not that she was in any hurry to move. Truly, if he meant her no harm, then their current situation could be counted as pleasant. Perhaps even more than pleasant. The more she took stock of the situation, and enjoyed the sensation of a very muscular body pressed against her, the more her body heated and butterflies fluttered in her lower belly.

“Are you warm?” he asked.

More than she’d been since she’d come to the arctic. She nodded, her cheek rubbing against the smooth skin of his chest.

He made a sound. “In that case then, I’m going to slip out of this sleeping bag and put on some clothes.”

Light penetrated the dark cocoon as the hood of fabric he’d drawn over her was pulled back. His furnace-like heat evaporated, and she almost called him back.

Which was nuts. Why on earth would she want a complete stranger to crawl back in bed with her?

Probably because he had the nicest butt she’d ever seen. Actually, all of him was pretty darned hot. Even without her glasses, Vicky could see his tight glutes, his corded thighs, his muscled back. When she squinted, she also noted the scars.

“What happened to you?”

Without turning, he pulled a shirt over his head and answered with a gruff, “None of your fucking business.”

Not the talkative type. She clamped her mouth shut. Clothes came flying her way, hitting her in the face when she wasn’t quick enough to get her hands raised in time.

“Get dressed.”

With those brusque words, he left the hut, taking time only to shove his feet in boots without lacing them and grabbing a jacket, all without showing her his face. As she dressed, with blurry eyes, she peered around.

While not in a tent, the shack, which wasn’t any larger, didn’t boast much. It contained the cot she’d cuddled in with her mysterious rescuer, some kind of weird burning basin in a corner, and boxes from which peeked food items and gear. She noted no personal effects, nothing to tell her anything of the man who never said where he’d gone or if he’d come back.

No matter, at least she was warm, there was food, and she was alive. Better than she could have expected given her ignoble face plant in front of the polar bear. At least now she had an explanation for her strange dream of rescue by a naked man.

The stranger must have saved her from the bear and carried her back here, dressed of course because only a mad man would brave the elements without a stitch of clothing.

She must have awoken briefly, long enough to catch a glimpse of his nudity before he snuggled her, and her muddled subconscious took care of the rest, sending her a wild dream.
My very first erotic dream.
And hopefully not her last.

Mouth pasty, she swung her legs out of the bed and stood. Surely he had some water around here somewhere? However, short of crouching to glance in every box, she couldn’t tell, and she didn’t want to snoop.

She did spot her bag, though, by the door. The thermos of coffee, surely cold by now, still had some liquid. Not the most palatable thing, but at least it would moisten her palate so her tongue didn’t stick.

Unscrewing the lid, she’d just poured a cup when he re-entered.

“What are you doing?” he barked. She barely had a moment to lift her head and look at him before he’d knocked the insulated cup from her hand, sending the liquid splashing.

“You spilled my coffee,” she said, stating the obvious.

“Because I wanted you to stay awake. Can you not smell the chemicals in it? Of course you can’t,” he said, replying to his own odd query. “Give me a minute and I’ll make some fresh, untainted coffee.”

As he pulled a battered coffee pot from a shelf overhead and poured grinds into the top— real coffee grinds!—she found herself asking, to his back, since he’d turned abruptly from her once again before giving her more than just a bare glimpse of his face, “What did you mean when you said you smelled chemicals? I realize it’s instant coffee, but the FDA says everything in it is safe.”

“Safe yes, but it’s the sleeping agent it’s laced with that I’d prefer you stay away from. Or were you planning to snore the day away again?”

Her coffee was laced with a drug? But why? And by who? And more interestingly, how the heck could he smell it?

She didn’t voice any of those queries, instead sticking to the most important one in her mind considering her current situation. “Who are you?”

“Nobody.”

“Hi, Nobody, my name is Vicky.” Where she found the gumption to tease she would never know. Perhaps it was the lingering effect of the supposed drug in her java. It did, however, finally get him to turn her way.

The flickering glow of the fire lit his face while giving it deep shadows, but even without her glasses, she could tell he was handsome in a craggy, hard-lined kind of way. Square chin, bristled jaw, slightly crooked nose, piercing blue eyes, shocking white brush-cut hair. All in all, a strong face. A tough face. One with a scar that went from his forehead down to his mouth. Ouch.

“Take a picture, it will last longer,” he snarled.

“I’m sorry.” She dropped her gaze.

“I warned you I was scary.”

A frown creased her brow, and she dared to raise her eyes for a second. “It’s not your face that frightens me, but your bark.” Heat rushed to her cheeks at her accusation, and she quickly stared at her hands again, waiting for his rebuke or, as Rick occasionally did when stressed or a little drunk, a cuff for speaking out of line.

“I don’t bark,” was his rebuttal.

“If you say so.” What was it with her today?

“I do. Here’s your coffee.” He thrust a dented metal cup into her hands, and she cradled it as she sat back on the edge of the bed.

“Are you hungry?”

She nodded.

“Oatmeal okay?”

Another nod. It seemed safest given his volatile mood. Hadn’t she learned from her marriage to Rick to not push men when they were on the edge? Had she so quickly forgotten the lessons they’d taught her, Rick and her father?

Her father, God rest his soul, had certain beliefs when it came to a woman’s role in life, beliefs he firmly enforced. Stepping out of line resulted in rebukes, mostly verbal ones, but the occasional slap wasn’t unheard of. When her parents died and Rick took charge, the disciplining trend continued. Not because she wanted it to, but what else could she do? Rick was her husband, and while she was smart enough to realize his treatment of her wasn’t completely right, she didn’t know how to stop it.

Then he died.

And I came to life.
Or at least was trying to live life differently than before, with more bravery. It seemed, though, that her past habits still lurked.

A bowl entered her line of sight, and she set her mug down to grasp it. Quietly, she dipped her spoon in and ate.

The silence stretched, and stifled.

He broke it first. “Why aren’t you chattering away like women always do?”

Should she lie and say she was tired? Or should she try to live by her new motto of be brave? “I don’t want to make you angry.”

He growled. “I will get angry if you flinch one more time when I talk to you. I’m not going to hurt you.”

Funny, because he sure sounded like he might, especially now that she’d told him her real reason for silence. Frightened, she kept her head ducked and didn’t reply.

Once again, silence reigned. He sighed. “Where’s your camp?”

She shrugged and meekly replied, “I don’t know.”

“Is it along the sea shelf where I found you?”

“I know we’re by the water. I have the coordinates on my phone.”

“Who are you staying with? Why were you alone when I found you? What are you doing out here?”

He tossed questions out at her rapidly, and she did her best to answer.

“I’m with an expedition. We’re here for a month to take in the scenery and experience living in the arctic. I was alone because no one in the group wanted to come with me.” Or so she assumed. She’d never technically asked anyone, too shy to butt her way into a group.

“How did your coffee end up drugged?”

His last question saw her finally raising her gaze. He snared and held it. What blue eyes he had. Beautiful eyes with dark lashes. “No one drugged it. I made it myself.”

“Were you trying to commit suicide?”

“What?” Her eyes widened. “Of course not.”

“Then, I’ll ask again, why was your coffee drugged?”

“I don’t know, but it wasn’t me. And why are you so convinced it was?” Since he seemed to want to open a dialogue, she felt safe in answering. For now.

“Reason number one, I could smell the chemicals.”

“How?”

“Think of it as a finely tuned sense of smell.”

Perhaps the lack of air pollutants was the reason for his olfactory ability. “What’s the other reason?

“You were kind of out of it yesterday when I found you on that ice shelf. Almost like you were drunk.”

It just occurred to Vicky she’d forgotten something very important. “Thank you by the way for saving me. If not for you, I would have gotten eaten by the bear or frozen to death.”

He grunted. “Whatever.”

“How did you scare off the bear? You didn’t kill it, did you?”

Even without her glasses, she could see the corner of his lip curl in amusement. “No, the bear is very much alive.”

She sighed in relief.

“It matters to you?”

“Of course. It wasn’t the bear’s fault I stumbled on to him. I’d hate to see such a beautiful creature killed for being where he belonged doing what comes naturally.”

“And you think eating pesky women is natural?”

Again, her cheeks heated. “I don’t mean to be a bother. Just point me in the direction you found me, and I’ll leave you alone.”

“I should,” he grumbled. “But you’d probably end up in more trouble. Finish your breakfast and coffee, and I’ll take you back to your camp.”