Rescued by the Bear (Bear Creek Clan 1) (2 page)

The smell of food woke her. She tried to keep her eyes screwed up and imagine she was tucked up on the sofa at home. Not the poky little apartment where she lived now, no, her childhood home. She remembered when she was ill, her mom used to wrap a blanket around her, and tell her she would soon feel better. Just the sound of her voice would help. Pulling the blanket under her chin, she hung onto that dream.

“How are you feeling?”

She wanted to ignore him, but her stomach was rumbling and her mouth watered at the smell of his cooking. Damn he would make a fine husband, protective, handsome, and he could cook. However, she wasn’t looking for a man. She was trouble. The days of imagining she was ever going to get her happy ever after were gone. Taken by the beast that hunted her.

She opened her eyes, knowing that she had to do the right thing and get out of this guy’s life. If the men that were after her found her here, he would end up dead. Ripped apart by those animals.

Looking up at him, as he bent over to check on her, she knew that would a tragic. He was one of a kind, dark hair, tanned skin and eyes that made her go weak at the knees. So soft and kind, and yet she could see the hidden strength there.

“I need to leave.” She sat up, but the room swam. Gripping the arm of the sofa, she tried to take deep breaths to steady herself.

“You need to eat. Then we’ll discuss what happens next.” He came to her, and put his hand under her arm, helping her up.

She didn’t have the strength to argue. He was right, she wouldn’t get very far if she didn’t have something to eat and drink. Allowing him to help her, he half carried her to the kitchen. There he had set out two plates, knives and forks by the side of them. It could almost be an intimate meal for lovers; all it needed was flowers and wine.

Abbi told herself to stop thinking like that. She was no good for him, but it didn’t stop her dreaming. In her half delirious state, it seemed much easier to lose herself in what might be, than to remember the reality of her life.

“Sit yourself down. I hope you like stew. There’s some fresh bread too. I made it before I went out, but it’s still warm.”

“Thank you. I haven’t eaten for so long, anything would be fine.”

He ladled the stew onto her plate. She had to stop herself from drooling like a dog. The smell was amazing, and she lifted her fork to eat. Scooping some up, she opened her mouth, and was not disappointed. She had never tasted anything so wonderful. Whether that was down to his cooking or her desperate hunger, she didn’t care. Another fork full went in, provoking a quick reaction in him.

His hand went to hers, and she looked up startled, nearly dropping her fork. “It’s OK. I’m not going to hurt you.” He took his hand off hers, and placed it in front of him. “You need to slow down. You’ll make yourself ill if you eat too quickly.”

“Oh, OK,” she said, placing her fork down.

“I said slowly. That doesn’t mean you can’t eat. But one mouthful at a time. There’s plenty, and you have all night.”

She tried to follow his advice, but it was hard when his cooking was so delicious. Big lumps of meat, with potatoes and carrots cooked to perfection. Not too hard, but not soft and over cooked. In the end, she broke some of the bread off, dipped it in the gravy, and chewed that instead. Trying to wait for her stomach to settle. He was right she was close to making herself ill. One thing she couldn’t afford to do, if she was going to leave tonight.

That was still her plan. He would have to sleep at some time, and then she would sneak out, and keep on going. That would be her life from now on. Always moving forward, always looking over her shoulder. The alternative was to sleep with the first man that would have her. Once more, she studied her rescuer. Maybe she could tempt him, and then her worries would be over.

But he had already told her he wasn’t interested. She shifted her thoughts back to her food and kept on eating. He watched her, some kind of fascination on his face, probably didn’t get too many women like her passing through. Or was it the way she smelt, wrinkling her nose, she caught a whiff of her clothes. Yes, that would be it.

Looking up she saw him trying to hide a smile. She amused him. Great, now he would never take her seriously. In fact, he would probably recommend she be shut up in a loony bin if she did tell him her story.

“Once you’ve eaten I’ll show you where the bathroom is. I don’t have any women’s clothes here, but I’m sure you can borrow one of my shirts.”

“Thank you,” she said, a strange relief washing over her. So what if he wasn't friendly with any women? It was none of her business whether women left their clothes here after sex with him. It shouldn’t make any difference, she was leaving, but it did.

“I think the questions can wait until morning. Have a shower and then get some sleep. You look exhausted.”

“This is great food,” she said, avoiding any conversation about her predicament.

“Thanks. My mom taught me how to cook; she must have known I was going to be a bachelor for a long time.”

Abbi smiled. “My mom liked to bake; she was always in the kitchen. I’d get home from school and she would have made scones, and homemade jam. When the apples were on the trees, we used to go out in the fall and pick them. She would make apple pies. They were delicious. I would burn my mouth on the hot apple because I couldn’t wait to try it.”

“Sounds like you had a great childhood.”

“I did, although it didn’t do my figure much good.”

“Oh, I don’t know, it looks kind of curvy in all the right places to me.” She blushed, he apologised. “Sorry, inappropriate for me to be looking.”

“I don’t think anyone ever paid me a compliment about my body before.” It was true; all through school, she had been teased. There were never tons of boys knocking on her door wanting a date. Even the tiger who hunted her was only interested because she was a virgin. It had nothing to do with physical attraction.

“People don’t always see the beauty in a person. We are all different.” He looked at her. As no other person ever had, as if he was actually seeing her soul. Something stirred inside her, a thing much deeper than the will to escape.

She looked away, and concentrated on her food once more. Savouring every last mouthful as though it might be her last. Because the way her life had spiralled out of control in the past few weeks, it might be.

He let her relax, not even venturing to ask her name. Although she was bursting to ask him questions, and found her gaze drawn to him. Her eyes lifting up to take quick snapshots of his face, his hands, and the way he moved. Such grace sheathed in hard toned muscles.

One time he caught her watching him. She couldn’t read his expression. Instead, she dragged her eyes back to her almost empty plate of stew and kept them there.

“More?” he asked.

“No. Thank you. Right now I think that shower sounds like bliss.”

He got up from his chair, and took the plates to the sink. She watched him, her eyes following his movements. He had to be the most attractive creature she had ever seen. No longer able to blame her delirious state, she just accepted the attraction, and in the same breath denied herself. It wouldn’t be fair to sleep with him and then run out on him.

However, she knew she was kidding herself. What she was scared of were the repercussions for her actions, if she did sleep with him. If she gave him her virginity, just so they stopped hunting her, she would never ever want to leave. He was perfect.

He wished she’d stop looking at him like that. It made his body yearn for her. Did she feel it too? That pull, as though they were connected at some deep inexplicable level.

All he knew was that she was trouble. If he were any other man, in any other profession it wouldn’t matter. However, he had to uphold the law. It was his job. If he bent the rules for her, then he would have to quit as the sheriff of Bear Creek. Her arrival into his life was going to be life changing. For good or bad, he couldn’t yet tell.

“This way,” he said, and took her up the hand carved wooden stairs. Her fingers briefly touched his on the handrail. Causing deep primal stirrings in his body.

He switched on the light, and showed her how the shower worked. “I’ll get you some towels, and something to wear.”

He went to his bedroom, refusing to look at the bed, because that simply conjured up inappropriate thoughts. Brad could not remember ever wanting anything as much as he wanted her. It was a dull ache. One that started in the centre of his chest, expanding out until his whole body throbbed with need.

He pulled a shirt out of his closet, and grabbed a couple of towels. Heading back to the bathroom he had a sudden sense that she had gone, that she had run from him at the first opportunity. He rushed in.

“Thanks,” she said, taking the towels off him. She had unbuttoned her shirt and stood with just a thin t-shirt covering her breasts. He peeled his eyes away from them, telling himself he was only breathless from moving so fast.

“No, problem. If there’s anything you need, just shout.” He walked out, pulling the door to behind him. Then he thought of something and turned back. She was already pulling the t-shirt over her head, and bunched it up to cover her breasts, her face embarrassed. “Sorry. I didn't mean to...”

“It’s OK.” She let her hands go down to her sides, allowing him to look at her.

He swallowed hard. “I only wanted to say, that if you put your clothes outside the bathroom door, I’ll wash them for you.”

Her face softened. A reaction to his unexpected kindness. “Thanks,” she said, and then stood there looking at him expectantly, but her eyes gave away her uncertainty.

“I’ll be down stairs. Call me.” Then he left. Quickly. Not trusting himself. He wanted to reach out and touch her breasts. He would only have to stretch forward and unclasp her bra. Those beautiful voluptuous globes would spill out into his eager hands. Damn he needed a cold shower.

After he closed the door, she stood still for a moment, wondering if he would come back in. The look on his face had been clear, even to an inexperienced woman such as Abbi. He wanted her, she didn't know why, but he did. This raised the question once more. Should she give herself to him?

Removing the rest of her clothes, she imagined what it would be like to have him undress her. His fingers sliding under her panties and pulling them down. Then he would touch her intimately, slipping his fingers inside her to feel just how wet she was. She didn’t think she had ever been this ready to lose her virginity.

Stripping her clothes off, she pushed those thoughts from her mind. She had to get her head straight. There was no way she could allow him to preoccupy her. It would cost her dearly.

“My clothes are here,” she shouted. Although now it felt kind of awkward to have him do her laundry.

“OK,” he replied.

She ducked back into the bathroom before he appeared. Right now, the warm water of the shower seemed the best place to be. Her teeth chattered, she told herself it was because she was cold. However, she was sure it had more to do with the thrill of excitement he elicited in her. Time to wash all thoughts of him away.

Water droplets sprayed down on her skin. She closed her eyes, letting her senses relax. For the first time in days, she began to feel normal. To feel as if there was hope. The water washed away the dirt and grime that had built up on her skin. She washed her hair, grateful he had conditioner. Her long hair stuck to her back as she rinsed it clean. She would plait it later, that way it wouldn't get so tangled up when she went on the run again.

At last, she felt better. Knowing she couldn’t stay in the shower forever, she got out and began to dry herself. Scrubbing her skin until she glowed, she wrapped her hair in a towel, and then picked up his shirt.

She couldn’t resist smelling it. However, it didn’t hold his scent; it simply smelt clean and freshly laundered. Deciding she had spent enough time in there, she opened the door, feeling a chill when the cool air hit her. For a moment, she stood still, trying to decide what she was supposed to do.

The other rooms upstairs were in darkness, and she hated the idea of wandering around his house alone. She didn’t need him to think she was prying into his life. Although she would love to know all about him. Her feet itched to take her right into his bedroom, to look at where the man himself slept. And did other ... things.

She turned those itchy feet right around and made them walk downstairs. But halfway down, she paused. She could hear voices. Well one voice. His.

Leaning forward she tried to listen, but it was too muffled. He was talking to someone, and obviously didn’t want her to hear. Shit.

Her heart beat erratically. He was in on it after all. Wow, he’d played his part perfectly. He had persuaded her, so subtly, to let down her defences. Then he had stripped her of her clothes, and now was telling them where to find her. She had to be the biggest idiot ever. All those stupid, juvenile thoughts about him being her knight in shining armour. Men like that didn’t exist and it was time she learned her lesson.

How she was supposed to get herself out of this damn mess? Think. She went over all her options, at the same time sneaking down the stairs as quietly as she could. No step creaked to give her away, and she made it to the bottom without him hearing. Now she could make out his voice. She stood perfectly still and listened to what he was saying.

“Yes, she’s here.” He paused. “No, she doesn’t have a clue. No, I don’t think it would be a good idea to share that information with her right now. All she’s going to do is run.”

You bet she was. Her boots were by the front door, where he must have placed them after he put her on the sofa. Slowly, she made her way along the hallway. Slipping her feet into them, feeling the cold leather on her damp skin. Right then her luck changed. Hanging up were the keys to his truck.