Courting Carolina (16 page)

She set it down with a snort, aimed the light into the pack again, and pulled out two entire changes of clothes—including thermal underwear—several small packets of dehydrated food, what appeared to be a smaller version of his camp stove, two bottles of fuel, and some nested pots.

She grabbed one of the thermal shirts and rushed back to Alec, angled the flashlight toward him, peeled back the sleeping bag, and slipped the shirt over his head—being careful of the cut on his forehead. But then she sat back on her heels, staring at him in dismay. That is, until she remembered how well he’d responded to her snapped instructions on the beach, and softly snorted at the realization that no matter what century it was, warriors always obeyed orders barked at them.

“Alec, sit up,” she commanded, using the shirt around his neck to pull him upright. “You will help me,” she growled, wrestling his shivering arm into a sleeve, only to have him flinch with an equally threatening growl. Realizing his wrist was tender, she carefully worked the sleeve up his arm, did the same with the other arm, then pulled the shirt down to his waist—jerking away when he collapsed onto the bag and her hand brushed him intimately.

Jane took a steadying breath and suddenly wanted to smile, remembering the lying scoundrel saying he hadn’t peeked when she’d awakened in his sleeping bag wearing only his shirt. “Yes, well,” she said, taking a good long peek even as she fought to contain her blush, “my mama didn’t raise a fool for a daughter.” She sighed when he started coughing again, and pulled the edge of the sleeping bag around him and zipped it up. “Kitty,” she said, waving her pet over, “come cuddle against Alec to help get him warm.” She urged the wolf into a position that wouldn’t allow Alec to roll onto his back as he continued to give occasional coughs, then grabbed the flashlight and positioned it to shine on the items she’d pulled from the backpack.

Her first order of business was to get the stove running,
she decided as she picked up the small burner and studied it. She rummaged through the side pockets of the pack until she found what looked like a flashlight she could attach to her head, as well as a plastic bag filled with goodies—including several lighters.

She put on the headlamp, adjusted the straps, and turned it on, then held the stove up and squinted to read the instructions etched on the side. She turned the knob, then immediately tightened it again when fuel hissed out. She set it level on the sand, then flicked the lighter just above the burner and turned the knob, only to rear back when it ignited with a
whoosh
.

Jane held her hands over the small but surprisingly intense flame, realizing she was also shivering. But she couldn’t change into dry clothes just yet. She jumped to her feet and ran back out into the rain, gathering rocks the size of her fist until she had an armful. Loving that the light shone at whatever she looked at, she ran back into the cave and dumped the rocks beside the stove, then opened the nesting pots, grabbed the largest one, and ran to the back of the cave. She dipped the pot in the bubbling spring to fill it with water, went back and added as many rocks as the pot would hold, and set it on the burner, being careful not to let the sloshing water put out the flame. Only then did she take off her boots and stand up to start stripping off, all while watching Alec. His breathing had calmed to nearly normal, and he was holding the sleeping bag tightly around his shivering body, his eyes closed as if in pain.

Jane stilled with her jeans halfway down at the realization that he might have other injuries besides that bump on his head and sore wrist. If he really did tangle with that stupid old bear, had she missed something in her haste to cover him up?

She pulled her pants back up and knelt down next to him, unzipped the sleeping bag after wrestling it out of his grip, and peeled it back. She carefully pulled his thermal shirt up his chest and slowly ran her hands over his torso—stopping when he gave a violent shiver. “I’m sorry,” she whispered,
blowing on her hands to warm them as she ran the beam of her headlamp over his body—gasping in surprise when it landed on the angry patch of red running up the length of his ribs and around to his back. “Oh, Alec,” she whispered, palming his clenched jaw and bending to kiss his cheek. “Why didn’t you stay at the shelter until morning, or at least until the rain stopped?”

“G-goddamn bear,” he rasped. “S-sorry.”

She kissed his cheek again, guessing the bear must have given him a terrible fright. “Hush now. You’re safe, sweetheart. I promise you that bear will definitely be sorry if it shows its hairy face around here.”

After changing her clothes—putting on the other warm-looking thermal shirt belonging to Alec—Jane went to work tucking the heated rocks against his torso inside the sleeping bag, then gave his body a more thorough inspection.

He’d taken a really bad tumble, she decided, seeing that he’d skinned one of his shins, his right wrist was swollen and possibly sprained, and the palms and fingers on both his hands were scratched raw as if he’d repeatedly grabbed at rocks and bushes trying to break his fall. As a precaution in case his wrist was broken instead of just sprained, she immobilized it with a pair of her knee-high stockings—making sure not to wrap it too tightly in deference to the swelling. She put his wool socks on his feet, found a medical kit in one of the pack’s pouches and cleaned the cut on his forehead, and changed out the now cooled rocks for warm ones from the pot again.

Jane then crushed three aspirin from the medical kit into a small tin cup, added some spring water, and poured in a rather large dose of Scotch. It took her five full minutes of coaxing to get him to drink every last drop before she gulped down her own dose of the breath-robbing liquor. She smiled, imagining Alec was also experiencing the warmth spreading through his limbs when she saw him relax onto the fleece she’d balled up as a pillow and let out a soft sigh.

Jane stood up and slowly swept the beam of her headlamp around the cave, then out at the cove—only to see
huge snowflakes mixed in the rain. She quickly repacked the backpack, shut off the stove, and spooned the rewarmed rocks into another pot to carry over to Alec.

“You’re doing a wonderful job, my valiant friend,” she whispered, giving Kitty a pat when he lifted his head to rest it on Alec’s shoulder. “And I will see that you have a grand ceremony when you receive your badge of honor.” She laughed. “And when Leviathan calls you a nasty name, you will know he’s only jealous of the attention you’re getting.”

Satisfied that she’d done all she could after she changed out the rocks one last time, Jane lifted the edge of the sleeping bag, settled along the length of Alec, and carefully wrapped her arm over his shivering shoulder with a tired smile. Alec had gallantly trudged through a nighttime rainstorm, battled a mean old bear, and gotten himself beaten up getting to her, so she supposed that made the underachieving, oversexed scoundrel
her
sweetheart.

Lord, she hoped he acted embarrassed tomorrow for
her
having to rescue
him
tonight. Because wanting to make him moan and groan and carry on like the men in those movies was
all the reason
she needed to show the kiss-stealing, backside-ogling man that he wasn’t the only one capable of giving unbelievable pleasure.

And anyway, she needed the practice for when she did find a condom-worthy lover who wanted
her
for all the right reasons.

Chapter Nine

Alec woke up to the uneasy feeling that he’d lost control of his salacious dream, most likely right around the time he’d found himself lying at the bottom of the hundred-foot, nearly vertical fall he’d taken. He’d been in roaring pain from what felt like cracked ribs, his wrist and left leg throbbing, and the rain pounding his face as he’d watched the beam of his headlamp wildly swinging from a bush halfway back up the ridge.

Yup, that’s when he’d known that a cold and frightened princess was probably the least of his worries. By sheer will alone, he’d managed to make it to the grotto before collapsing into Jane’s arms, and then he’d…well, things were a bit blurry after that. Except he was pretty sure he’d apologized for making up that bear, and was fairly certain—or rather, afraid—that he may have thrown up on her.

Alec mentally took stock of his situation, trying to decide if he could salvage at least some of his dignity. His entire side still hurt like hell, he couldn’t close his right hand into a fist, and he had a headache threatening to turn into roaring pain again if he opened his eyes. On the upside, however, he was warm as toast, naked but for a thermal shirt, and comfortably
nestled in his sleeping bag. Well, comfortable except for all the hard lumps poking into his sides and back.

What in the name of God was he lying on? Had Jane made him sleep out on the rock-strewn beach instead of inside the grotto on the nice soft sand?

Hell, he
must
have thrown up on her.

Alec heard whispering and carefully cracked open his eyes to sunshine and saw Jane kneeling at the entrance of the cave fiddling with something on a large boulder, Kit listening with rapt attention as he sat beside her.

“I need you to stay here and keep an eye on Alec for me, Kitalanta, so you can let me know if he wakes up. But you must stay in the cave with him, as I’m going to be throwing branches onto the beach from the top of the cliff so we can have a campfire.”

“No, you’re not,” Alec said through gritted teeth, fighting against the pain of lifting his head to glare at her.

Jane immediately stood up and walked over to him, her smile outshining the sun peeking over the point of land protecting the cove. “You’re awake.” She knelt beside him and adjusted the semisoft lump under his neck to prop up his head. “How are you feeling this morning?” she asked as she gently pressed her palm to his cheek and smiled again. “You’re not feverish, so I predict you’ll live.”

“You’re not climbing the cliff and tossing anything over the edge of it.”

She sat back on her heels and looked down to brush several specks of sand off her jacket. “Odd, but I don’t recall receiving an invitation to your coronation.” She shot him a sassy smile. “So I guess that doesn’t make you the king of me.”

Oh yeah, he’d definitely lost control of his dream. “You can build a campfire when we get back to the shelter,” he said on a growl, using the pain to propel himself upward just as Jane caught hold of his shoulder and held him down. Not that he could fight her, since his ribs started roaring louder than his pounding head, and he dropped back with a hiss of pain. What in hell was poking his sides?

She ran her knuckles over his cheek. “We’re not returning
to the shelter today and likely not tomorrow, either. You’re a mess, Alec. You’ll never make the hike up to the trail, much less back to camp.” She smiled again. “And I’m not carrying you.”

Damn; apparently princesses didn’t get mad—they got even. He wiggled off one of the back-poking lumps, only to land on another. “What in hell am I lying on?” he muttered as he felt around with his left hand. He pulled out a rock, incredulous. “Why did you fill my sleeping bag with rocks?”

She unzipped the bag and started tossing them onto the sand. “To warm you up. I heated them in a pot of water on the camp stove, then tucked them around you.”

Alec relaxed back against the lumpy pillow with a heavy sigh. “That was smart. And I’m sorry for growling.” He tossed the rock away and captured her hand. “Jane, I want…Last night I…” He sighed and gave her a squeeze. “Thank you.”

She brushed at her jacket again, her cheeks flushing. “Yes. Well. I didn’t do half what you did for me three days ago.” She shot him another brilliant smile. “But if that mean old bear that chased you had dared to show its furry face here last night, Kitty and I would have dispatched it to hell with my kidnappers.”

Okay. Not only
hadn’t
he told her he’d made up the bear, but apparently he’d led her to believe it had attacked him. Wait; did that mean he
hadn’t
thrown up on her?

“Are you thirsty?” she asked, standing up and walking to the back of the grotto. She came back carrying a tin cup and the medical kit. “I think you should have a few more aspirin to fight the swelling in your wrist and ribs.” She knelt beside him again. “And then we’ll see if you can stand, and I’ll help you down the beach so you can”—her face flushed again—“do your morning rituals,” she muttered, becoming very busy rummaging through the medical kit. “Then I’ll feed you before I leave.”

He closed his hand over her fist holding the bottle of aspirin. “The ground’s still wet, making the hike to the top of the cliff too dangerous. We don’t need a campfire.”

“Maybe not today,” she countered, pulling free and opening the bottle. She shook three aspirin into her palm. “But we’ll need one tonight when the temperature drops below freezing.” She shoved the pills in his mouth when he tried to speak, then lifted his head and pressed the tin cup to his lips. “Drink.”

Alec obediently drank all the water that didn’t run down his chin, then gently nudged her away, gritted his teeth to keep from growling again as he lifted onto his elbow, and pushed himself upright.