“Can you, now?” He stepped closer, bringing the scent of male and freshly cut cedar with him. “Prove it.”
Her entire body stiffened, and then she sneezed. Twice. Shivers wracked her shoulders.
His sigh stirred her hair. He held the blanket out. “We can do this your way ... or my way.”
She lifted her chin. “What’s the difference?” Cold. She was so damn cold.
“Your way is I turn around, you drop the wet clothes and wrap yourself in this nice, clean, kinda rough blanket.” No expression showed on his stony face, but something lingered in those too dark eyes. “My way is that I help you.”
Lightning zigzagged outside the wide windows, illuminating the entire world. It was almost as if the electricity aimed for the interior of the small space. She jumped, grabbing the blanket.
“Wise choice.” He turned around. “If you’ve never seen a lightning storm from a watchtower, you’re in for a treat, Sarah.”
She took in his broad back, intrigued by the jagged tattoo winding over his right shoulder. Sharp points crisscrossed to form a fierce bird rising from fire. A phoenix? Those shoulders could shield a village. Then the breath stopped in her throat at the myriad of scars lining his lower back. Raised and white, they screamed old pain. “Are you one of the good guys, Max?”
“Stop stalling, darlin’. I’m not a patient man.” Soft, even kind, his voice nonetheless held a firm note of warning.
Not exactly an answer. She clutched the blanket with shaking hands. “Why do you care if I catch cold?”
“Sarah.” One word, yet clipped.
“Fine.” Slow motions had her shoes toed off. Her jeans clung to her wet legs, and she had to shove them down with icy fingers. She pulled her socks off and kicked the mess to the side.
“Underwear, too.”
“No way.” Her T-shirt followed the rest and she wrapped the blanket around her shivering body with a small sigh of relief. She paused, waiting. Nope. No vibrations. The blanket hadn’t been used by anyone before.
He exhaled, muscles rippling in his broad back. “I know this is scary. But hypothermia or pneumonia really suck. I won’t look at you. I won’t touch you. While you have no reason to trust me, I swear on the head of my stubborn, don’t-give-a-crap about his own safety, too proud commander ... I will not hurt you. Now take off your damn underwear and warm the hell up.”
She had no choice. Exhausted, freezing, she was no match for the giant. Yet something in her eased at his words. He had a commander he obviously cared for. Figured he was a soldier. She shimmied out of the plain cotton briefs, wrapping the blanket tighter. “What’s your tattoo of?”
His shoulders shrugged. “The mythical Russian firebird—a predator on a quest. I was Russian, a long time ago.”
“You don’t sound Russian.” Gravity pulled her down to sit on the cot.
The tattoo rippled when he moved. “I’ve been in the States for years.” Economical movements had him grabbing her clothing to hang on large hooks on the wall. Thunder growled outside. “These might dry some tonight—I have friends picking us up tomorrow morning when the storm blows over.”
“Picking us up?”
“Helicopter.” He yanked a cell phone out of his pocket. “I texted them before coming inside.” He kicked off his boots. Quick motions had his jeans off and hanging with her clothes.
Talk about male. Real male. Muscled and hard. God. She gulped. “So. You work out.”
His bark of laughter eased the rest of her tension. “Yes. I train with the soldiers and often hit my good friend, Connlan. We box.” Max reached for ropes to tug the shutters closed on three sides of the tower. “The wind is going the other way. We’ll leave the west side open to keep an eye on the storm.” He turned toward her, that dark gaze searching as he twisted the light off. “Try to sleep, Sarah. I’ll keep watch.”
Darkness descended. “You’re a soldier.”
“Yes.” He moved like a soldier—graceful and fast.
The night lent an intimacy to the room she’d like to avoid, though she understood the need for darkness. While she craved the light, it made them too easy to spot. “You think the Kurjans are coming?”
“Not tonight.” Two loud steps and he gently pushed her shoulder so she’d lie down. The second blanket dropped on her, and he moved away.
She’d allow her body to rest. No way in hell would she sleep. “How did you kill four of them, Max?” Her teeth chattered between each word. Cold. Her feet actually stung they were so cold.
“I cut off their heads.”
Nausea swirled in her stomach at his casual tone. “That’s not what I meant.” Certainly not what she wanted to know.
“Oh. Well, I guess my training was better than theirs.”
The guy was a politician at not answering a question. “Are you some genetically enhanced human soldier?” Her grasp on reality had been shattered the day she saw a Kurjan kill a woman. Anything seemed possible now.
“No.” Lightning flashed outside, throwing him into focus.
Dangerous. The man should have a warning stamped on his chest. Her shivers turned into shakes.
“Damn it.” Two strides and he shoved her over. “Don’t panic here, darlin’. But we’re about to snuggle.” Quick movements had him under the blanket, turning her to spoon against him.
Warmth. God. So much warmth infused her she caught her breath. Her shoulders relaxed, even against her will. “You said you wouldn’t touch me.”
“I’m not.” A heavy arm settled across her waist, tugging her into him. “There’s a blanket between us.” His breath stirred along her neck, sending spirals of awareness under her skin. “I can’t have you freezing to death.”
Focus. She needed to focus. “You kept your underwear on.” The black briefs didn’t hide anything. The guy was built.
“I didn’t want you freaking out.”
Good point. “You don’t seem like a snuggler.”
“Ah sweetheart. I’ve been known to snuggle, cuddle, wipe away crocodile tears, and even buy Band-Aids decorated with ponies. I’m harmless.”
She couldn’t help the small laugh. Max was as harmless as a tornado. Yet somehow, the shelter provided by his strong body lent her a sense of safety. “You have a child.” Intriguing, although her heart ached. She wondered why. She just met the guy. He certainly wasn’t hers.
“I guard a little girl.” Max dropped his chin to Sarah’s neck. “She’s ... special.”
Love. It was in the tone of his voice. “She must be very special. Why does she need a bodyguard?”
His shoulders stiffened. “The Kurjans want her.”
“Why?” Sarah gasped, struggling to sit up. The Kurjans? She and Max had to get to the child. Now.
Max held her in place. “Like I said, she’s special.”
“We should get to her.” Sarah stopped struggling—it was useless. Might as well relax against him and steal some more warmth.
“She’s safe. I promise. We protect gifted females like Janie. And you.” Max’s breath heated the sensitive area behind Sarah’s ear.
Desire. Very unexpected and out of place, need slid through her veins, along her skin. She struggled to keep calm. What he’d said—he couldn’t know. “I’m not gifted.”
“You’re enhanced. I can feel it.”
“What does that mean?” He was just making a weird guess. Had to be. She never gave herself away.
Max’s shrug pushed her into the wall before she settled back. “Dunno. Psychic, empathic, telekinetic ... you’ve got something. It’s okay. Many people have gifts, like the ability to hit a baseball or sing a high note. Which is yours?”
The storm had settled in, allowing rain to beat against the metal roof in a rhythmic lull. Intimacy filled the small room. Trust. She so wanted to trust. The way he explained her gift, like it was normal, reminded her of her grandfather. He had accepted her gift and even found expert teachers in meditation so she could learn to control it. For the first time in too long, she didn’t feel so alone. “When I touch something, I get feelings from the object. Well, from the last person who touched it. Sometimes I even know who that was.” She held her breath.