Was I hearing him right?

No. I couldn’t possibly be.

“You aren’t serious!” I shouted. He was already almost impossible to see. How had he covered that much ground, that quickly? And in the dark? What was he, superhuman?

Well, he had the build of a superhuman, if such a thing existed. He reminded me of something out of one of my brother’s comic books. Except his skin wasn’t green.

He didn’t answer. I didn’t know if that meant he was most definitely serious and he didn’t see any reason to entertain me, or if he wasn’t serious about helping me and had disappeared.

I knew it. I was too curious. I had asked too many questions. He was tired of me already and I really, really didn’t want to spend the night out in the open, where it was starting to go from chilly to downright cold. The dampness all around me didn’t help things.

Panic started making itself known, spreading through my chest and into my extremities. A crushing sensation settled over my heart, even as it started racing nauseatingly fast. My stomach churned, my palms went slick with sweat, and I couldn’t seem to stop shaking no matter how I tried.

“Owen?” I whispered, my teeth chattering. “Where did you go?”

A spark of light in the distance, became a glow. He had answered me without trying, and the fire he was building now caught flame and showed me exactly where he was and what he was doing.

I was never so relieved, not even when the storm finally quieted down enough for me to step out of the cave and take a look around. Not even when I knew I wasn’t going to die in some cramped little space without food or water.

He was busy gathering more wood over there, handling branches and even larger limbs like they were nothing. I guessed they really were nothing for somebody like him, who looked like he could lift a car without breaking a sweat.

A good sort of man to have nearby in an emergency.

I shook myself when my thoughts turned down a decidedly spicier path. No way. It wasn’t going to happen. He was nice—extremely nice, and helpful. But so was Ted Bundy. This dude could be a serial killer who got his kicks from luring smart, savvy girls by wearing down their defenses.

Only he hadn’t needed to lure me. If anything, my fire had lured him.

He wouldn’t wear down my defenses, that much was for sure. I might have softened up a little, but I could harden real fast. He was a stranger. A very handsome, very hot stranger.

“Damn it, Molly,” I whispered to myself as I watched him. “Cool yourself off, girl. He’s just a guy. And he’ll help you and make sure you don’t get your stupid self killed out here. But that’s it. Maybe you’ll send him a card during the holidays. It’s the least you can do. But nothing more than that. Capisce?”

I didn’t answer myself, because that would mean I was holding a conversation with myself and that would be weird. But I got the message, anyway. I couldn’t let myself fall into the old “damsel in distress” role. I couldn’t fall into his arms or swoon or whatever. Yes, he went above and beyond to help me, but that didn’t make him a hero.

I’d call him a hero if and when he delivered me home. Maybe.

If I even decided to let him know where I lived. Maybe I’d have him drop me off someplace, instead. That way he couldn’t come back and stalk me if he did turn out to be a pervert or something.

Just thinking it all out was exhausting.

First things first. I had to make it through the night, and the idea of him sharing the cave with me was enough to send a shiver down my spine. Not a good shiver.

Though it wasn’t completely bad, either.

My heart fluttered when I realized he was coming back. I arranged myself on the log, trying to act like it didn’t matter, like the sight of him approaching didn’t make me feel nervous and sweaty-palmed. I might as well have been back in high school, with the school quarterback walking toward my table in the cafeteria.

Only the quarterback would never have stopped to see me. Not unless he wanted to commit social suicide.

“How’s it going here?” Owen asked as he approached.

“Hmm? Oh, fine. Thanks. I see you managed to put together a pretty nice fire over there.”

His lips twitched. “Yes. It’s a very nice fire.”

“I mean, it’s bigger than anything I could’ve put together.” I nodded to my own fire, which was on the verge of burning out.

“Yes, well, I have the luxury of mobility. And strength,” he added, “though I don’t doubt you could take my head off with a pickaxe. Or a bat.”

“Don’t test me,” I warned when I sensed he was making fun. “I’m not kidding when I tell you I set the home run record in college. It still stands, five years later.”

“Congratulations.” And he even managed to sound sincere. “All right. Now that things are somewhat settled over there, it’s best we move you.”

Gulp.

“Move me? I mean, I guess I could hop on one foot, if you let me lean on you.”

He sighed like a man being stretched to his limits. “I’m not asking you to hop on one foot, lass. I’ll carry you. Obviously.”

Oh, boy, I liked that idea way too much. Yes, it would be nice to be in his arms, to let him carry me like I weighed next to nothing and he was my knight in shining armor. I wouldn’t mind an excuse to nestle up against that chest of his, either. It should’ve been against the law, a chest like that.

The fact that I liked the idea meant it was a bad one. “I don’t need you to carry me. But thanks. So long as I can hold onto you, I can hop. I’m in pretty good shape.”

“What troubles you so about the notion of my carrying you?”

“Nothing!”

“It would be a matter of moments, taking you from here to there.” He pointed to the fire, which now blazed merrily away and made me wish I was sitting near it. Boy, was it getting cold.

“And if we started now, I could be on my way,” I reminded him.

“Why do you insist on being so stubborn?”

“I am not.”

“You are, too.” He folded his arms and stared at me. “Have I offended you? Do you find me threatening?”

Well, yes, only not in the way he meant it. “Not particularly.”

“What is it, then? Why are you so dead set against my helping you?”

“Why are you so dead set on helping me exactly the way you think I should be helped?” I countered. “Why isn’t it enough for me to say no, thank you, I would rather you didn’t carry me. I would rather do what I can on my own, but I need a little help from you?”

He growled. He flat-out growled like an animal, and the sound made the hair on the back of my neck stand straight up. I didn’t like this. This wasn’t fun.

“You know what?” I decided, working my way to my feet, but barely able to put more than the tips of my sock-covered toes on the ground.

“What?”

“Thank you for everything you’ve done. Really. You’ve been a huge help, and you’ve been someone to talk to. I didn’t have to sit here alone, going crazy, wondering if morning would ever come. I wish I could pay you back somehow, but—”

“If you think I’m leaving you alone, you’re dead wrong.” He seemed completely unmoved by my little speech.

I had to admit it wasn’t one of my strongest, but I thought I was pretty clear.

“Bad choice of words.”

“What?”

“Dead wrong? Don’t use the ‘d’ word after you just got done telling me how dangerous it is out here. And incidentally, the fact that you’re so set on helping me, and exactly the way you think I need help—is freaking me out. You’re overstepping your boundaries, and I don’t like it.”

“Is that what this is all about? I’m going too far?”

“Um, yeah. I thought that was pretty clear.”

Understanding dawned on his face and darned if he didn’t look even more handsome than before. Why did he have to be so impossibly gorgeous? Though I guessed it was better than his being skeevy. It would be even harder to trust him.

“All right. Have it your way. I’m here for you to lean on if you insist on hopping like an idiot.” He held out an arm in a chivalrous gesture.

“Gee, thanks. Don’t forget to slide one last negative comment in there.” I secured my backpack before starting off, my left arm wrapped around his, the pickaxe as a crutch in my right.

It was awkward, but I needed to make it work. I couldn’t have explained why it was so important to me if I tried all night. It just was.

Besides, it probably wasn’t the best idea to let a complete stranger carry me. I didn’t know what his story was or whether he was going to try to get handsy.

“What do you do to work out?” I asked as I hopped along.

It was not easy. In fact, I was starting to get winded thanks to my pack, which added a good twenty pounds and made hopping infinitely more treacherous. Every hop sent the darn thing smacking into my back.

“I lift weights.”

I glanced his way. “Like… how? I’m just curious because it feels like my arm’s wrapped around a bowling ball.”

He snickered. “You somehow manage to make that sound like an insult.”

“Believe me, it isn’t.” I was so glad there was no light to see by, because my cheeks burned like they had just burst into flames. “More like I’m questioning what I’m doing with my life, because you’re crushing it at the gym.”

“Do you work out, then?”

“Not as much as I’d like to. Just like I don’t get outside as much as I want. Work, you know.”

“Yes, I know.”

“But like I said before, I’ve been outdoors most of my life. My dad was an avid hiker and mountain climber. My mom, too. I’m not huge with climbing, but I can hike all day.”

“And they obviously taught you how to take care of yourself. You made it through the storm all right.”

It was slow going, one hop after another. I was starting to wish I had accepted his offer and let him carry me, since we’d already be at the cave by now and I would be hanging out in front of an actual fire that somebody actually had the ability to build. Instead, my pride had gotten in the way. As usual.

“I did, somehow. I won’t lie. There were one or two times when I wasn’t so sure. Sometimes, the trees swayed so hard I was sure they would come down right in front of the cave, and I’d be blocked in. Can you imagine?” I shivered a little. What a nightmare that would be.

“What do you do for a living?” he asked. “You said work keeps you away from all the hiking and exercise you’d like to get.” I had to give it to him: he was patient, letting me take all the time I needed to hop along. And he listened when I spoke. I started feeling bad for giving him so much grief. He wasn’t a bad guy. He had already done much more than he needed to, that was for sure.

“I study archeology. A graduate program.”

“That sounds fascinating.”

“I think so. I mean, I chose to work in it for the rest of my life. My dad had a bunch of old artifacts passed down through his family for, like, centuries. I think they sparked my interest in history.”

“I have a bit of an interest in it, myself,” he confided.

“Wow. Beauty, brawn, and brains. Any particular era?”

He shrugged. “Ancient Scottish history, in particular. I’ve always felt an affinity toward it.”

We reached the fire. It was bliss, the warmth coming toward me in waves. Until he steered me past it and into the little cave where I had already spent endless, frightened hours. My breath came in a hitching gasp when I looked inside, though, and I hadn’t expected it to.

I stopped. I couldn’t move another inch.

“What is it?” he asked, trying to move me deeper inside the cave. It wasn’t working. Not even he could budge me from that spot when I really and truly had no intention of moving.

“I… I can’t,” I managed to whisper as my throat closed up. “Can’t do it.”

“Can’t do what? Go inside?”

My head bobbed up and down.

“Why not? There’s nothing in there that will harm you. I’ve made sure of it. You shall be safe and warm inside.”

Yet when he tried to pull me along, I shook my head as hard as I had just nodded it.

“What is it, Molly?”

I couldn’t speak. I could hardly breathe or even make sense of the thoughts flying through my head. Images. The way I’d clutched myself and prayed harder than I ever had before when the storm whipped into a frenzy only yards from where I curled into a ball and cowered before it.

I took as deep a breath as I could and struggled to get the words out. “I… it’s too much. I don’t want to go in there.”

“Molly. Look at me.” He waited until I raised my eyes to meet his. Beautiful eyes. Clear, gray flecked with gold. So interesting. Staring deep into mine. “Nothing will harm you now, lass. Not while I’m here. The storm is long gone, and you aren’t the only one who knows how to swing a pickaxe. Nothing will harm you. You are safe. Tell yourself you are, right now.”

It was ridiculous, talking to myself, but sounding ridiculous was better than being crippled by a panic attack. I’d never had one before and could only guess that was what this was. “I am safe,” I breathed, even though it didn’t feel that way.

“Again.” His voice was warm, but sharp. Stern. “Say it again and again.”

“I am safe. I am safe.” I breathed deeply, taking my time while the snarl in my brain started to loosen and pressure in my chest and throat started to relax. “I am safe.”

“Good.” He slid an arm around my waist and briefly squeezed, like an awkward hug. “Very well done. There is nothing here to be afraid of. You shall be just fine.”

“I was really scared in there,” I admitted, still looking inside instead of actually going in. “I thought… I was going to die alone, and no one would ever know what happened to me.”

“Och, Molly. Lass.” His arm tightened until it was almost an embrace, and what was there to do but lean into it?

The fact was, whether or not he was hot and whether or not I was insanely attracted to him—yes on both points—I needed comfort. I needed contact. I didn’t know just how much I needed either until he offered them.

“I’m sorry.” I turned my face away and blushed like a fool. “I feel stupid. This is stupid. I don’t know you. There’s no reason for you to be doing any of this for me. And here I am, unloading on you. I bet you wish you hadn’t investigated my fire when you could be someplace else, warm and dry.”

“That’s not true at all.”

“It’s not?” I looked at him again, more than a little skeptical. “You don’t have to say that. Don’t worry about hurting my feelings. I’m tough enough to handle it.”

I expected him to laugh, or at least to chuckle.

Instead, he hooked a finger under my chin and seemed to study me, the way he had when I was trying and failing to unlace my boot.

And just like I did then, I felt all fumbly and jittery when he looked at me like that. Like he saw something beyond what was on the surface.

“Och, I believe I’d rather be here than anyplace in the world.”