Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 35001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 175(@200wpm)___ 140(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 175(@200wpm)___ 140(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
Even with his few layers on, he felt the biting chill push through him. He struck off and swore as his shoes sank through the snow.
Where the hell is she?
He pissed on a tree and squinted as he looked around, searching for any sign of where she’d gone. After confirming she wasn’t in the garage or in her vehicle, which sat beneath the carport, he saw some prints leading off to the woods. And followed.
Now here he stood at the plane, feet cold as fuck and so was the rest of him.
“What are you doing?” he barked.
Her eyebrow was arched as she skimmed him with her gaze. Despite the cold which had seeped through his clothing, or rather her clothing, her gaze on his stirred his blood. In a massive way.
The wind blew and more snow fell. His stomach rolled at realization of what he stared at right this moment. The plane that had almost been his tomb.
“Looking to see if there was anything you could wear.” Her eyes moved over him once more, heating his blood further. She scowled. “What are you doing?”
He thrust his hand up toward his hair, only to pause at the sight of the thick mitten protecting his fingers—one part of his body that didn’t feel like it was rapidly losing heat.
“Looking for you. It’s not like you were there when I woke up.”
She gestured in his direction, looking put out and worried. “So, logically you thought you should go out in the bitter cold with very little protection? Are you seeking frostbite?” Iris stomped to him, where she reached out and grasped the sweatshirt before dragging him inside the belly of the jet. “You’re barely dressed for this and were damn lucky you didn’t get it last time.”
Okay, she made sense, but damn it, this was his time to be upset and angry that she had simply vanished. And he hated how right she was. His body hurt, his cheeks stung and his feet were fucking freezing.
“Get out of the wind,” she barked, shaking her head.
“Why are you back here?”
“I told you.”
She walked away and he followed, realizing how sharp that wind was. Even out of it this much was an incredible relief for him as he allowed himself to get a break and be able to breathe more easily, without feeling like he was sacrificing his lungs with each inhalation.
Bradford watched Iris maneuver nimbly over the seats as she took her time, looking as she moved aft.
“You shouldn’t be climbing over all of this. It’s wreckage, you know.”
“I realize I’m not what you may think of as a capable woman, but I know how to take care of myself.” The edge had returned to her voice. The cold there lacing her words was balmy equatorial weather compared to what surrounded them here.
“That’s not what I meant.”
He followed her. She’d gone into the bedroom in the rear once she’d wedged the door open, and he saw what she meant. The blankets on the overturned bed there would come in handy. Sticking out from an upper compartment was the edge of a black bag.
Without a word, she pointed to the bedding and faced the bag before reaching up to tug on it. Bradford froze, his mittened hands on the champagne-colored bedspread as he stared at her.
Lust slapped him harder than the bite of the cold weather. Christ, was there something wrong with him? He shouldn’t be thinking about the fastest way to strip this woman of her clothing. At least, not every fucking time he looked at her.
Yet here we are.
It didn’t matter she was dressed in layers, which added padding to her curves. All he knew was last night had been a blend of hell and, well, more hell with a peek of heaven.
It felt wrong to dig around but she was right, he had to find something a bit more to put on. She grunted as she tugged again, and his heart leaped up in his throat when she stumbled back. Iris steadied herself quickly and he breathed a bit easier when she turned toward him with it in her hand.
She didn’t move closer to him but balanced the black bag on the other end of the overturned bed. He watched her as she unzipped and opened the bag. Her eyebrows went up.
“What?”
“I found,” she said, her lips twitching before she regained control, “some clothing for you. Polar fleece.”
“Then why do you look like you’re trying not to laugh?”
“Let’s just say I’m curious as to who this had belonged to.” She zipped it closed and draped the strap over her shoulder. “We need to get back. This weather is going to get ugly. Fast.”
Iris was in front of him seconds later. He dipped his head to look in her eyes. They weren’t simply brown. Flecks of gold and green dotted them as he stared deep.