Snowbound Summer (The Logan Series Book 3) (6 page)

The tips of her fingers were
going white. “Fella.”

He ignored her. Then let out a
bark.

A rabbit popped out of a hole
half hidden by snow at the side of the little clump of bushes and ran off into
the woods.

“Fella!” The dog took off after
it in hot pursuit.

Chapter
Eight

Nick woke to the sound of frantic shouting.

He propelled himself from under
the quilt. Fella was gone. Summer’s voice—
outside
. He ran to the door
and tugged it open.

Summer was shouting, staring out
across the field.

“What the hell’s going on?”

“Oh, Nick—” She ran to him and
grabbed his arm. “It’s Fella. He saw a rabbit and took off after it. I didn’t
think he would be able to run, but…but...”

“I get it. Come on.” He grabbed
her hand and tugged her toward the house.

She resisted. “We have to go
after him!”

“There’s no way you’re chasing a
dog wearing that.” He looked down at her pajamas. “Pull on your jeans and
jumper and put on a coat.” He sounded like someone’s mother. Shit, he sounded
like his own mother. But the air was so cold it stung his cheeks. He would be
sensible, even if she wasn’t. “Which way did he go?”

There were inside now, and he
shoved his arms into his coat.

“Across the field toward the
river.” She was already heading for the stairs. “I’ll follow you.”

Nick picked up his car keys from
the counter. He always carried a dog whistle in his glove compartment. Armed
with the whistle, he took off in the direction Fella had gone, running as fast
as was possible in the thick snow. Fella’s tracks and the tiny footprints of
the rabbit preceding him. “Fella!” He picked up pace. This much exercise could
rip open Fella’s stitches—he needed to get the dog back inside as soon as
possible. He shoved his keys into his pocket as he ran. There. In the distance
he made out the loping form of the dog, heading straight for the river.

At least rabbits don’t swim...He
blew a short blast through the whistle, and slowed down as Fella stopped and
turned. “Come back here, you stupid bloody animal!” he shouted.

Fella looked away and kept going.

“Shit.” Nick ran again and as he
got closer blew the whistle again.

Fella was on the riverbank. At
the alien sound, he whipped around. His paws skittered on the icy bank, a
macabre slapstick move like those seen in old black and white movies, and then
he slipped, and hit the water.

“Fella!” Summer’s shout was
behind him as Nick rushed to the riverbank.

The current was fast flowing;
Fella’s eyes were wide and frantic as he struggled to make it back to the bank.

“Oh crap.” Nick shed his coat,
toed off his boots, and dived in after him.

The water was so cold he couldn’t
catch his breath. And flowing so fast, swimming against it was near impossible.

“What are you doing! You…” She
was screaming stuff he couldn’t understand, couldn’t waste time listening to.
Instead, Nick struck out to Fella. He managed to get a hand around the rope
that still hung around Fella’s neck, and pulled him close.

With the oversized dog clamped to
his side, he struck out to the bank with the other.

“Here!” Summer had knelt,
wrapping her ankles through the broken trunk of a thorn tree by the water’s
edge. She held out her hand, fingers wide.

Somehow he made it to her. She
grabbed his hand, and, her face, red and sweating with the effort, pulled him
and Fella to safety.

For a long moment, the three of
them lay prostrate on the frozen blades of grass, breathing heavily.

Then she untangled her legs from
the tree trunk, and stumbled up to standing.

“You need to get inside. You both
need to get inside. Come on.” She grasped his hand.

“In a minute.” His heart was
still pounding from the effort. His legs were jelly; he doubted that they could
hold him.

“Nick.” She leaned down and
stared into his face. “You have to move. If you stay out here you’ll get
hypothermia.”

Fella struggled to his feet, a
sad, sorry excuse for a dog. He sniffed Nick’s face.

Dog breath.

“Okay, okay.” Nick sat then
managed to get to his feet. With his entire body shaking, he staggered after
her across the field to the house.

*****

Nick’s skin was pale—clammy to the touch. He stood in the
middle of the warm kitchen, shaking uncontrollably. His fingers fumbled with
his clothes.

“Try to get your clothes off.”
She took the stairs two at a time, racing to the bathroom where she grabbed two
large towels. By the time she sped back to him, he had managed to rid himself
of the sopping sweater and T-shirt. He was trying to unbutton his jeans. “Let
me.” She shoved a towel into his hands and dropped the other on the kitchen
table. “Dry your chest.”

Her fingers unbuttoned the snap
at his waist, then she unzipped him, and slid down his jeans.

Commando.

She breathed slow and steady, and
tried not to react at the sight of Nick’s nakedness. The poor guy had enough to
deal with without her embarrassment.

“Lift your leg.” He did so, and
she freed him from first one leg of his jeans then the other. She stripped off
his soaking socks, and grabbed the other towel from the table and wrapped it
around him, rubbing vigorously to try and get his circulation going—to heat his
body.

His crotch—she just patted. Then
she stretched up, and rubbed his back, and over the curve of his butt while he
dried his cock and balls. In a few moments, he was dry, but still so cold he
could freeze water just by sticking a finger in it.

“Get under the blanket.” She
pushed him to the sofa, and draped the blanket over him.

Then she turned to Fella and
rubbed his fur dry with the towel.

“Into your basket, Fella.”

He did as she asked, and she
draped a dry towel over him. The heat of the woodstove would soon warm him.
Nick however...

His face was still white, and his
lips were going blue.
Body to body
. She’d seen a documentary about polar
explorers, about what they had to do in cases of hypothermia. Nothing heated
the body quicker than skin on skin contact.

“Hold on.” She stripped off her
sweater and removed her jeans. Then she pulled back the cover and plastered her
warm body against his.

She gritted her teeth as her bra
pressed against his chest. Wrapped her arms around back and pressed her stomach
to his. She wound her leg over his frigid thigh and ran her hands over his
back, again and again. “You’ll warm up soon.”

He was too cold to even smile,
but his lips moved in a poor imitation of one. “I didn’t think,” he whispered.

“Damn right, you didn’t think.”
She rubbed his side, his thigh, the top of his butt. “You’re crazy, do you know
that?” Her heart had almost stopped when she’d seen him dive into the water.
She’d feared she’d lose both of them. And it wasn’t the prospect of having to
explain to their parents why Nick Logan had lost his life in the river that
made her frantic. It was the thought of never seeing his smile again. Never
hearing him bossing her around. “If I’d lost you I’d have...” She bit back
tears. Crying all over him wouldn’t help. She pressed her face to his, and
kissed his mouth with a kiss so gentle, he surely must know what she meant. How
much the thought of losing him had terrified her.

“I didn’t think...” he started
again, “this would be the way you’d take my clothes off.”

On the snowiest day, the sun
could make an appearance. In the worst of times, something could surprise you
so much that laughter was the only response.

Summer felt her mouth curve into
a smile. The dark, heavy weight inside lightened, dissolving like molasses in
water. She rubbed his back as hard as she could without hurting him. “You’re an
idiot.” There was no sting to her words, just warmth. “A crazy, brave,
impulsive idiot. Don’t ever do that to me again.” She ran her hands over his
broad shoulders, down his firm biceps and over his elbows. “I think you’re
warming up.” She eased back a little to touch his chest. Yes, he definitely
seemed less chilled. She wrapped her arms around him, and leaned close to press
her entire body against his once more.

His eyes closed.

She slapped him gently on the
cheek, and his eyes shot open again. “No going to sleep. It could be dangerous
for you to sleep now. You need to warm up and get something hot into you—some
tea or soup. How are you feeling?”

His lips had regained their
natural color; all tinges of blue had disappeared. She ran a hand over his
face, noting with approval the difference in temperature. The clamminess had
gone, and it was no longer that horrible candle white.

His head moved a little forward,
then back. “I’m feeling better.” He still looked terrible, but at least he didn’t
look half dead any longer.

*****

Nick was cold—not frozen. Summer seemed to think he was
incapable of feeling anything. When the opposite was true. She’d stripped off
his clothes and rubbed him everywhere—absolutely everywhere—with the towel. Her
heart was in the right place, but
Jesus
.

She’d thrown off her clothes,
revealing her black bra and lace panties in front of him as though it was
nothing. As though he was a block of ice.

He was as cold as one. But not
staring at her body was difficult. In the same way as one shouldn’t look a gift
horse in the mouth, it was as impolite to look a gift girl in the boobs. Even if
she was trying to save you from freezing to death. He’d never been happier to
dive under a quilt, but then she’d climbed in after him and given him full body
resuscitation.

The shivering had stopped. His
skin felt cool, rather than frigid.

Apart from one, very hot area.

“I’m not apologizing for that.”
He looked down. “I don’t have any control over it.”

Her face went pink. “I
understand.”

“It’s because you’re not wearing
much and you’re wrapped around me like a vine,” he said. “My body thinks it’s
Christmas.”

“It almost is.” She didn’t
attempt to move away. Her hand traced lazy circles on his back. “I think you’re
warming up nicely.”

“I am.” Heat permeated through
him, like warm milk on a stove. “I feel much better.” He angled around her to
look at the dog in the basket. “He looks okay too.”

“I dried him off, and he’s so
close to the stove I reckon he should be okay.” Her hand kept moving, and her
leg was still over his thigh. “What you did was very dangerous. What if I hadn’t
been able to pull you out?”

He nodded. He’d acted on
instinct, rather than using his brain. The current was flowing so fast both of
them could have been drowned. “I’m sorry I frightened you. I just couldn’t—”

“Couldn’t let Fella be washed
away.” She chewed her bottom lip. “I know. We both have become ridiculously
attached to that dog. I hope he appreciates it.”

“He must be feeling a lot better.
He took off after that rabbit like a rocket. There’s definitely a hint of
collie in him.”

She stroked his shoulders.

His cock jerked against her
stomach.

She smelled of flowers, of lemon,
of summer. Of Summer. He pushed back her cloud of tawny gold hair back from her
face. Saw her eyes change as she stared up at him. “Thank you.” He kissed her
cheek.

Her chin tilted up, bringing her
mouth into alignment with his.

This time, when they kissed,
there was no trace of alcohol in either of their bodies. No clouded thinking.
She made a small sound, somewhere between a sigh and a moan, and deepened the
kiss, arching her back to snuggle in to him.

So far, she’d been the one
touching. Rubbing. Holding. As the heat flooded through his body, warming the
blood in his veins, Nick felt as though he’d been injected with a shot of
adrenalin.

Her body was beautiful. He
wrapped his arms around her, and stroked down the long length of her spine,
nape to base.

She shivered, but not from the
cold.

His fingers traced the waist of
her panties, then he slid his hands up her back again, and undid her bra.

She did a weird move, a sort of
undulation and wriggle, and then the bra was off, and her naked breasts were
against his chest.

“They’re cold.” He cupped both of
them. “Gorgeous, but cold.” He trailed his lips down her neck, tasting a trace
of salt on her skin.

“I’m warming up too.” Her voice
was husky, low, aroused. “I wish this sofa wasn’t so narrow.” She stroked the
side of his face. “Will we go upstairs?”

“To your bed?” This was getting
out of control fast. The thought of spending the rest of the day in bed,
exploring every inch of her with intense focus was difficult to resist.

“I want to have sex with you,
Nick.”

Have sex.
Condom
. “Do you
have any condoms?” There was probably one in his wallet, but
one
…

“I...” She pulled a face. “No. I
don’t. I used to be on the pill, but...”

“I think I have one.” He stroked
his thumb across her cheek. “Should we use it now or save it for later?”

She rubbed her eyes. “I don’t
believe this. One condom.” She blew out a breath. “I wonder if Declan left any.”

At the mention of her brother,
Nick shook his head. “I doubt it. Those he would have taken with him to Andalucía.
And if you suggest going and trying to find some in your parents’ room…” He
wrinkled his nose. “You’d get the same response as you did when you gave me
your father’s underwear.”

“Oh boy.” She eased away a
little. “I vote we use it later.”

“That’s if I even have one in my
wallet.” There was a hidden pocket, which could be filled or could be empty.

“If not, we’ll just have to be
creative.”

He loved this discussion.