Page 7 of Ex-Military Biker’s Bride

He kneels in front of me and I put my foot up on his thigh, wincing slightly. He wraps it with a bandage from the first aid kit. His hands are huge and gentle.

“So, you’re an ex-military pilot?”

“I'm a lot of things.”

“Where’d you learn to do that?”

He ties the wrap off. “Around.”

He sits back on his heels, looking up into my eyes and a frown creases his brow.

“You're still shaking.”

“I'm cold.”

“You're not shivering… you’re shaking.” He gets up. “That's different.”

“Look, I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.”

He stands there for a second, then strips off his shirt and puts it on me. My eyes widen in surprise. The shirt smells of a woodsy cologne and clean sweat.

Scars run down from his neck across the whole right side of his ribs, shiny and pulled where it's old, then down under his belt. He’s hard and muscled everywhere.

“Move over,” he says. “I promise you, this is not a romantic move.”

“What a shame…” I raise an eyebrow.

“Sweetheart, you're cold and half in shock.” He gets in behind me and pulls the blankets over both of us. “This will help.”

He puts his big arms around me and pulls me back against his chest. Every part of me that's been braced and tense for hours suddenly lets go at the warmth of his body against mine.

All that warmth is overwhelming. I make a weird, small whimpering sound and he tightens his hold. Then he drops his chin near my temple and we stay like that for a long time, the rain pattering against the roof.

Eventually, I stop shaking, but he doesn’t move.

Lucky’s hand is spread flat over my belly, holding me against him, and I can feel his heart beating steadily against my back. It’s much slower than mine. His thigh is behind mine, and when I shift my weight off my hip he makes a low rumble in his chest and goes still behind me. I shift my weight again to make sure.

“You shouldn’t do that,” he says.

“Do what?”

“You know what, Olivia.”

I suck in my breath. I've been Lily Torgan so long that hearing my name in a man’s voice makes my heart beat even faster.

“Did Maria tell you?”

“Yes.”

Cursing myself silently for telling her, I turn over. I wanted someone to know my real name, in case I didn’t make it off the mountain. It seems silly now. Now we’re face to face on the mattress with the blanket spread over us.

“So you know that Lily's not my real name.”

“Yes, I do. Since the plane, actually. I just didn’t know what your real name is.” His hand comes up and moves my wet hair back off my cheek, his thumb gently stroking my cheek. “And you didn’t go up there alone on the ridge by accident, either.”

“No.”