Page 3 of Her Guarded Hero

“Besides being an Eagle Scout, who are you?” she asked when she saw the gun that he pulled out of one of the compartments of his backpack.

“I’m one of the good guys. Will you promise me to stay put?”

She worried her bottom lip again.

Goddammit, she was going to go after the horse. He just knew she was.

“Listen Aurora, Siren is in as much danger as you are from the shooter. You keep your ass planted.” He made it a command. He was good at commands.

“But-”

“We’ll argue when I come back, okay? I need to go now. Promise me you’ll stay, okay?”

She nodded, then winced.

“Don’t move your head, just rest against this tree. Can you do that?”

“I don’t think I’ll have a choice,” she admitted ruefully. He pulled out a clean t-shirt from his pack and put it behind her head. “Hopefully that’s soft enough for you.” She hummed her appreciation as she leaned back.

“I’ll be back as fast as I can,” he promised.

“S’okay.”

He took few moments to pull out some other things from his pack.

“Here’s Gatorade, Trail Mix and a couple of protein bars. I want you to finish the Gatorade while I’m gone.” He gently pulled her away from the tree and helped her into a rain jacket that he had in his backpack. He zipped it up to her chin, then he rolled up the sleeves.

“That should keep out the chill.”

Then he took off on a silent run.

* * *

From half-mast eyes, Aurora watched as her savior morphed into a predator and then disappeared. She shuddered. Was it pain? Shock? Or was she replaying the feel of his hands on her body? She was twenty-six years old, and in her entire life, she had never had such a strong reaction to a man. She took a deep breath, and instead of smelling the fresh mountain air and pine trees, she took in the lingering masculine scent of Dalton Sullivan. She had to stop herself from sighing in pleasure.

Obviously, she’d hit her head too hard.

“It’s the circumstances. Get over yourself.”

She trembled again. Even though she was thinking of his dark Irish good looks, she knew that her shivering was due to cold. His rain jacket was keeping out the wind, but she needed more heat.

With gloved fingers she plucked at the fastenings on the back of his backpack that where she saw the rolled-up blanket. It didn’t work. She yanked off the gloves using her teeth, even then it took her three times as long as it should have to undo it because her fingers were so cold. Aurora shoved herself up against the tree trunk so that she was sitting up.

“Halleluiah.” She shook out the silver survival blanket and tucked it around her lower legs, combining that with Dalton’s jacket, she basked in warmth. That answered that question, it had been the cold, not any kind of weird reaction to the man.

Still, as she nestled into the blanket, and let her body relax against the tree, she kept thinking about her close call, and Dalton’s protectiveness. He hadn’t been put off by her independence. Not once had he backed down. She smiled as she thought about it. He was just like all the other bull-headed men in her family, not that wimp she’d dated.

But Dalton Sullivan sure as hell didn’t feel like family. Nope, as a matter of fact, he seemed larger than life.

“He’s a tourist.”

Shit, now she was talking to herself, and she was supposed to stay quiet and hidden. Get it together girl. Just because you thought all your hormones had taken an Alaskan cruise five years ago, and now they decided to come back and unpack their bags in the middle of a shoot-out, doesn’t mean that you should go all psycho-girl.

Now, rest your head back and relax. Be the logical and practical Aurora we all know and love.

What had he been doing with a gun in the woods? And a wicked looking gun at that. He sure as hell wasn’t a hunter. She was pretty sure that was a Sig Sauer, based on what she’d seen in her granddad’s gun magazines. He’d said he was one of the good guys, and he sure knew first aid. She really couldn’t imagine Eagle Scout boy, with his first aid kit and clean socks being some kind of criminal, but who goes around camping in the woods with a military pistol?

She was a millimeter away from slapping her forehead before stopping herself. God, she was so stupid.