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Solange’s eyes sweep the room, taking in the sparse furnishings. “This isn’t too bad,” she murmurs, her breath visible in the air.
I nod, peeling off my jacket and setting it aside. “It’ll do for now.”
We both glance at the only bed in the corner, a simple wooden frame with a worn mattress. There’s a pang of hesitation, an unspoken question of who will take it. But before it can linger, Solange shakes her head.
“You take the bed,” she breathes, her gaze meeting mine and heat rips through my body. “I’ll be fine on the floor.”
I hide a smirk because there’s no way I’ll let her do that. Besides, I plan on seducing her which means there will be two in that bed.“Alright. But if you change your mind…”
“I won’t,” she insists, already rummaging through our meager supplies for blankets and first aid kits.
I watch her for a moment, her movements tired but she just needs a couple of hours of good rest and she’ll be fine. I admire the way she has handled this challenge and most of all I admire that she lets me look after her. She’s still in her uniform, but it’s dirty now, her amazing legs bruised and there are some cuts on her arms.
“You should probably let me tend to those scraps of yours,” I rasp, breaking the silence. “Looks like you could use a bit of care.”
Her face turns, lips parting. ”You first.”
I shake my head. ”Be a good girl and pull up your sleeve.”
Flushing, she sits down at the table and rolls up her sleeve. There’s a scrape on her elbow, a bruise forming on her cheek. I retrieve antiseptic wipes and bandages from the kit, kneeling beside her.
”You sure blood doesn’t make you queasy?” she asks and I give her a faint smile.
”I’m sure.”
She shudders. ”Personally I hate it.”
I don’t say anything.
The cabin’s dim, the only light filtering through the small windows. My hands are gentle as I clean and dress her wounds, her skin a little cold beneath my touch. She winces occasionally, but she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she watches me with a mixture of gratitude and something else I can’t define, but it makes my blood heat.
When I finish with her injuries, she insists on returning the favor. I reluctantly agree, sitting on a chair while she tends to a cut on my forehead and a bruise on my arm. Her touch is gentle, her fingers soft against my skin. I close my eyes, letting her care for me, feeling a strange sense of vulnerability in her presence that I’m not sure what do with. I’ve never really been mothered but I’m being mothered down, and I could definitely get used to more.
“There,” she says finally, her voice soft. “All done.”
I open my eyes to find her kneeling before me, concern etched in her features. She shouldn’t be on the floor, shouldn’t be kneeling but I’d be lying if I’d said I didn’t like her in this position.
“Do I look better now?” I murmur, meeting her gaze.
”Less bloody.” She smiles, her eyes searching mine and she adds in a breathier tone, “Handsome.”
I nod, the words caught in my throat. “You think I’m handsome?”
”Every woman that takes one look at you thinks that,” she says dryly.
”Don’t care about what they think,” I rasp and her eyes flicker like flipped through pages, her breath catching in her throat. The silence stretches between us, charged with unspoken emotions. I’m going to kiss her. My lips start prickling, eagerness flaring through my veins and I’m about to clasp her chin to pull her to me when she abruptly rises, cutting off the moment.
Damn, I thought I had her.
My fists clench and I grit my teeth, as Solange wraps a blanket around her shoulders and uses a couple of spare logs to light the fireplace. It casts frantic shadows across the walls, and Solange settles crosslegged on the floor. I watch her for a moment, the soft glow of the firelight playing on her features, and I realize how much I want to protect her, keep her safe.
Deep down, I know I’m meant for her. I knew the moment I saw her walking down that terminal on her pointy, little heels. I rub my chest, surprised I can’t feel her fingers squeezing my heart.
6.
Solange
I shift when Asher sits down beside me by the fire. He doesn’t say anything but I know he can feel the tension between us. This whole situation feels so surreal-how did we go from strangers on a plane to survivors in the mountain?
