Seducing Liselle (5 page)

“So, you’ve lived her awhile?” she asked,
struggling through the snow. Her feet were already freezing again and if he
hadn’t been holding her up, she would’ve fallen at least twice already.

“I grew up here, but then I joined the Air
Force. I was gone for twenty years, pretty much.
Went all
over the world.
I just moved back here a few years ago.”

“Oh, did you retire?” she asked, knowing a
lot of soldiers threw in the towel after twenty years.

He grunted. “No.
Medical
discharge.”

She frowned, hoping she hadn’t made him
angry. “Oh. Sorry.” She tried to look him over through his winter coat, but he
seemed just as physically able and imposing as he did in her niece’s house. He
certainly didn’t look injured or disabled in any way. A cold shot of fear raced
through her: maybe he had PTSD? Was it safe for her to be here with him? Shit.

He must have caught her looking at him
worriedly because he visibly relaxed his shoulders from their tense posture.
“My shoulder got messed up. I had to have a fake joint put in and with the
lingering vertigo from a bad concussion, well. I was grounded. I don’t talk
about it much.”

She stared, trying to imagine what kind of
accident could mess up a shoulder that bad. “What happened?”

He ducked her gaze. His cheeks were pink
again, she noted.

“I crashed my chopper trying to get some
of my team out of a bad spot. The guys in charge don’t really like it when you
do that.”

She nodded slowly. “Did you get your men?”

“Yup,” he said, grabbing her just as she
slipped. “I never left anyone behind.” He smiled crookedly. “The brass doesn’t
like that much either, especially when you have to ignore orders to do it.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “Why do I get the
feeling you didn’t do so well with the whole authority thing?”

John grinned. “Yeah, well. I’m kind of a
take charge guy. I can’t help myself.”

She slipped again and he slung an arm
around her waist, keeping her from going headfirst into the snow.

“Okay, this is ridiculous. Your feet are
obviously too cold to work right.”

Before
Liselle
realized what he was going to do, he picked her up, swinging her into his arms.
She squeaked, grabbing onto his shoulders.

“What are you doing? What about your
shoulder? I’m too heavy.” She clung to
him,
scared to
death he was going to drop her.

“Relax, I’ve got you. Also, you’re tiny.
My shoulder can handle it. You can’t weigh over a hundred pounds,” he said,
striding through the snow at least twice as fast as before.

I wish I weighed that little
, she thought, fingers clenching in his coat. He sped up and she
gripped tighter.
Whoa.
He’s almost running in this insane snow, and
he’s carrying me!

“Relax,” he said again, more firmly this
time. He hitched her up in his arms more securely. “Look, there’s my place.” He
jerked a chin down the trail.

She followed his gaze and saw a small
cabin nestled in a tiny clearing. The front porch light illuminated the rough
cut wood of the exterior.

“Looks cozy,” she said, imagining a fire
and warm blankets and hot chocolate. She might have given a small sigh because
John cocked his head questioningly at her.

“I’m pretending you were serious and
there’s really hot chocolate waiting inside,” she said as he loped up the
steps.

“Of course there is, do you doubt me?” he
asked, setting her on her feet.

“I’m used to disappointment,” she said. “I
try not to get too excited about things.”

He frowned at her again, and looked on the
verge of asking her about her pessimism, but then her legs buckled. She was
dizzy, and for some reason even the dark wood of his house looked white all of
a sudden. Luckily, he grabbed her before she fell, slinging her up close
against his side.

“Okay now, no falling,” he murmured in her
ear.

She shivered, whether from the sexy, low
buzz of his voice or the cold, she didn’t know. She burrowed in closer to him,
trying unsuccessfully to stand up on her own. She couldn’t feel her feet.

“I can’t feel my toes,” she said, looking
down. Her boots were encased in ice and snow. “Or my hands,” she added.

“Hang on,” he said and did something with
the lock. The door swung open, warm air blowing over them.

“Oh my God, warmth,” she said, clumsily
surging forward, desperate to get inside.

He chuckled and half-carried her in,
flipping a switch as he kicked the door shut behind him. The interior was
small, with a kitchen to the left and a sofa in front of a large fireplace
directly in front of them. Steps let up to a loft on the right side. Underneath
the loft he’d set up an office area complete with computer, bookshelves, and a
cat bed.

“You have a cat?” she asked, watching as a
black and grey creature stretched and yawned on the top of the sofa’s back,
then jumped down and sauntered over to investigate their entrance.

“I have a cat that thinks he’s a pit
bull,” John replied.

While
Liselle
tried to unbutton her coat, he stared down at the cat in a sort of complicated
dominance greeting. The cat sniffed disdainfully and let loose with a meow that
sounded more like a howl.
Then it head-butted her leg.

“Uh, what does he want?” she asked, trying
not to fall over as pins and needles surged through her warming limbs.

John snorted. “He probably wants to eat
you.
Or me.
I’m not sure which.”

She glared at him, edging away from the
cat.
“Seriously.”
She pulled off her mittens, tucking
the sodden fabric into a coat pocket.

He laughed and shoved the creature away
with his foot. “I’ll feed you in a minute,
Pitbull
.”

The cat meowed again, raising the hair on
Liselle’s
neck,
then
stalked off.

“You named him
Pitbull
?”

John shrugged. “He’s kind of a handful.”

She rolled her eyes and fumbled at her
coat again, still dizzy. “What is wrong with me?” she muttered, frustrated when
she couldn’t get her fingers around the buttons.

“Here, let me.” John batted her hands
away.

“This is ridiculous,” she said, face
burning. “I’ve been dressing and undressing myself since I was three.”

“Hey, you almost had hypothermia. Just let
me take care of you, okay?” John said gently.

She stared at his long, golden lashes
while he worked at her coat, brushing off the snow that had frozen into the
wool. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

He stopped, licked his lips, and worked
the last button free. She stared at his mouth. His upper lip curved
mischievously. She wanted to kiss him, right there, on the
uptilt
.
Right now.
God.

“It’s not your fault you got stuck in the snow,”
he said kindly, helping her out of her coat. He hung it on a hook right by the
door, then shrugged off his coat and hung it next to hers.

He clearly had no idea what she was
thinking about. She wrenched her eyes away from his mouth.

“Yeah, but you didn’t want me in your
sisters’ house. You weren’t happy I came,” she said, biting the inside of her
cheek. She remembered how nervous she’d been. His face had seemed so forbidding
a few short hours ago, but now he looked … sweet. She rubbed her eyes. Clearly
she was losing her mind. He crouched down and untied her boots for her, then
slipped them off. His hand on her ankle was hot.

“I was worried you’d be an asshole, like
your brother,” he admitted as he stood up, startling a laugh out of her. He
looked amused and apologetic at the same time. He placed her boots by the door,
tucking her laces inside the tops.

“Well, I’m not.” She wiggled her toes in
her wet socks.

“I know,” he said, voice low and serious
all of a sudden.

She frowned at him, but he was already
crouching down again to unlace his work boots. When he got them open, he stood
again, toeing them off and kicking them next to hers on the mat near the door.

“Um,” she said, shifting from foot to
foot, suddenly nervous. She hoped he wasn’t angry.

“Here, sit on the sofa and I’ll get a fire
going.” He tugged her into the living room.

Her feet made little wet footprints on the
hardwood floor. “Sorry about the mess,” she said.

“It’s fine. You think I’m always careful
of my floor?
Yeah, not so much.”
He pushed her onto
the leather sofa.

She shivered as she sunk into the soft
cushions, watching as he opened the flue and piled kindling onto the metal
grate. He stuck some medium sized logs on top, then shoved crumpled up
newspaper underneath.
Liselle
wrapped her arms around
herself, trying to get warm. The damp clothes were not helping. He warmed up
the flue and lit the fire.

“There,” he said, standing back up. He
adjusted the screen in front of the flames. “As soon as the logs catch it’ll
warm up in here even more. I usually keep the electric heat turned low because
this heats the entire place really well.”

“I thought fireplaces suck heat out of
buildings?”

“I’ve got a fan to push the warm air
down,” he gestured to the high ceiling above the loft. “And the chimney is
exposed brick and runs the height of the cabin. When it warms up, it radiates
heat.”

She looked where he pointed and nodded. It
made sense, but right now she was still cold.

“Let me get you something warm to drink,”
he said, frowning at her wet feet.

She was going to argue that she didn’t
need any more coddling, but it felt so good to just sit still and let someone
else do the work for a change. She sighed and let herself sink down into the
cushions even more.

Chapter Four

John set a cup of steaming chocolate at
her elbow.
Liselle
struggled to sit up, wrapping her
cold fingers around the mug. She must have dozed off. His cranky cat was
nowhere to be found and John stood in front of her smiling. He’d changed into
sweats and a thick, dark blue sweater. His feet were bare. She stared at him
for a moment, mesmerized by his bright green eyes before coming to her senses.
If
you stare at him like that he’s going to think you’re an idiot
, she
admonished herself.
She sniffed at the
cup he’d handed her
, then took a careful taste. She moaned as sweet,
chocolately
goodness burst over her tongue.
Heaven.

“Oh my God, this is amazing,” she mumbled,
sucking down more. She didn’t care if she burned her lips. The drink wasn’t
helping her cold legs, but the heat warmed her insides a little.

John sat down near her toes and put a hand
on her ankle. “You’re still freezing, wow. Here, take these off.” He began
tugging at her wet socks.

Liselle
choked, almost spilling her hot chocolate. “What are you doing?”

He had her socks off and was chafing her
pale feet between his warm hands before she could stop him. His hands felt
almost too hot against her cold flesh. She struggled, but he held her firmly,
fingers massaging up the arch of her foot.
Liselle
let out an involuntary gasp at the sensation and stopped trying to get away. He
didn’t seem disgusted by her damp skin. If he wanted to handle her clammy feet,
she wasn’t going to argue with him. She
thunked
her now-empty mug onto the side table and closed her eyes, savoring the near
pain of her feet coming back to life.

“This isn’t helping,” John said, startling
her. He let go.

“What? Yes it is. Don’t stop,” she
protested weakly, trying to sit up. It was impossible with her legs in his lap.
Her knee brushed against his thigh and he froze, giving her an indecipherable
look. She swallowed, worried she’d pissed him off, but he just smiled.

“Hang on.” He put her feet down and stood
up, stripping off his sweater, which
Liselle
was
totally not expecting. She stared. He wore a black t-shirt underneath. She’d
never seen such a perfectly muscled chest up close like this. His biceps flexed
and she itched to wrap her fingers around them, but then he bent over, snagging
a blanket from a chest on the other side of the sofa, and she boggled at the perfection
of his ass.

Holy
crap, he’s gorgeous
. She flushed, heat racing
through her spine and she prayed he couldn’t tell she’d just been checking him
out, but when he turned back around and draped the soft fleece over her, he
seemed oblivious. She stared some more. The thin silver of a scar snaked down
his right arm, just peeking out from under his shirt. When he moved closer she
lost sight of it.