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Closer.

I glance down at the scars covering his hands. Thick white lines crossing his knuckles and palms.

Without thinking, I reach for one.

Rhett stills instantly.

My fingers brush his skin lightly, tracing one raised scar near his thumb.

His breathing changes.

So does mine.

“You’ve been through a lot,” I say softly.

His eyes lock onto mine.

“So have you.”

The heat in his gaze nearly unravels me.

Because for the first time since I got here, I don’t feel like he’s looking at me as someone fragile.

He’s looking at me like he understands me.

Which might actually be more dangerous.

“You’re staring again,” he says quietly.

I swallow hard, still touching his hand. “Maybe you’re distracting.”

His gaze drops briefly to my mouth.

Then back up.

“And maybe,” he says slowly, “you’re getting a little too comfortable touching me like that.”

My pulse jumps instantly.

But I don’t pull away.

Neither does he.

And somehow that feels like the biggest shift of all.

Chapter Eight

Nora

The power goes out hard enough to wake me.

Wind rattles the windows violently.

Snow hammers the roof.

And somewhere outside, something moves.

I sit up too fast, disoriented, the blankets tangling around my legs while darkness swallows the room whole. For one sharp second I have no idea where I am, and then the smell of pine and woodsmoke hits me.