The time came when they no longer needed the gentle touches, when nothing mattered but the pounding drive to orgasm. Hope let herself get lost in the urgency of the moment, let her body drown in pure pleasure... and then he aroused her again, whispering, "Let me feel it again, let me feel you come."
His self-control held, barely. When the pulses of her third climax began, he made a deep, helpless sound in his throat and shuddered over her.
This time she didn't allow herself the luxury of sleep. This time he gently withdrew and collapsed on the blanket beside her. His hand sought hers, clasping her fingers against his callused palm.
"Tell me what happened," he finally said, his voice low and even. "Who are you?"
An introduction at this point seemed unbearably awkward. Hope blushed again, and cleared her throat "Hope Bradshaw."
The blue eyes searched her face. "Tanner. Price Tanner."
The fire was getting too low. She needed to put another couple of logs on, but getting up and standing naked in front of him was somehow impossible. She looked around for her pajamas and, in an agony of embarrassment, realized she needed to bathe before putting them on.
He saw where she was looking, and he didn't suffer any such modesty. Unfolding his long length from the floor, he stepped over to the stack of wood and replenished the fire.
Hope did exactly what she had been embarrassed to let him to do to her, looked him over good, from head to foot. She liked what she saw, every inch of him. His muscles were delineated in the firelight, revealing the slope and curve of broad shoulders, wide chest, the long bulge of strong thigh muscles. His buttocks were round, firm. Even flaccid, his penis was intriguingly thick, and his testicles swung heavily below them. Price Tanner. She repeated his name in her mind, the syllables strong and brisk.
Tink looked a little grumpy at having had his sleep disturbed. He got up and sniffed at the stranger, and wagged his tail when the man leaned down and patted him. "I remember the dog barking," Price Tanner said.
"He heard you before I did. His name is Tinkerbell. Tink, for short."
"Tinkerbell?" He glanced at her, blue eyes incredulous. "He's gay?"
Hope sputtered with laughter. "No, he's just an eternally optimistic, goofy dog. He thinks the world is here to pet him."
"He may be right." He studied the sodden mass of his clothing, the water puddled on the floor. "How long have I been here?"
She looked at the clock. Two-thirty. "Three and a half hours." Too much had happened in such a short length of time, and yet she felt as if only an hour or so had passed instead of almost twice that. "I dragged you in and got you out of your clothes. You must have stepped into the lake, because you were wet from the waist down. I dried you off and wrapped you in a blanket."
"Yeah, I remember going into the water. I knew this place was here, but I couldn't see a damn thing."
"I don't know how you made it this far. Why were you on foot? Did you have an accident? And why were you out in this weather anyway?"
"I was trying to make it down to Boise. The Blazer slid off the road and broke out the windshield, so I couldn't stay there. Like I said, I knew this place was here, and I had a compass. I didn't have much choice except try to get here."
"You're a walking miracle," she said frankly. "Logically, you should be dead out in the snow."
"But I'm not, thanks to you." He returned to the blanket and stretched out beside her, his gaze somber. He caught a tendril of blond hair, rubbing it between his fingers before smoothing it behind her ear. "I know when you got under the blanket to get me warm, you weren't expecting me to jump you as soon as I was half conscious. Tell me the truth, Hope: Were you willing?"
She cleared her throat. "I--I was surprised." She touched his hand. "I wasn't unwilling. Couldn't you tell?"
He briefly closed his eyes in relief. "I don't have a real clear memory of anything that happened until I woke up on top of you. Or rather, I remember what I did and what I felt, but I wasn't sure you felt the same." He spread his hand on her belly and lightly stroked upward to cover her breast. "I thought maybe I'd lost my head, waking up with such a pretty, brown-eyed little blond naked next to me."
"Strictly speaking, I wasn't next to you. I was on top of you." Her face got hot again. Damn those blushes! "It seemed the best way to get you warm."
"It worked," he said, and for the first time a smile curved his mouth.
Hope almost lost her breath. He was ruggedly attractive rather than handsome, but when he smiled, her heart did a crazy loop. It must be chemistry, she thought dazedly. She had seen many better-looking men; Dylan had been better looking, in a clean-cut, classical way. But what her eyes saw and her body felt were two different things, and she had never experienced such a strong sexual response to any other man. She wanted to make love again, and before she gave in to the need, she forced herself to remember he had been through a harrowing, physically exhausting ordeal..
"Do you want some coffee?" she asked hurriedly, getting to her feet. She carefully didn't look at him as she gathered up her pajamas. "Or something to eat? I made a big pot of stew yesterday. Or how about a hot bath? The water heater is wired to the generator, so there's plenty of hot water."
"That sounds good," he said, also standing. "All of it."
He reached out and caught her arms, turning her so she faced him. Bending his head, he gave her another of those sweet, tender kisses. "I also want to make love to you again, if you'll let me."