he passed.
The second thing he became aware of was the feel of the sheets against his skin. Against almost all of his skin. He was naked beneath the blue-and-white down comforter. Or close to it. He definitely felt linen beneath his shoulders.
Blinking, he tried very hard to focus his eyes.
Where the hell was he?
He had absolutely no idea how he had gotten here—or what he was doing here to begin with.
Or, for that matter, who that woman with the shapely hips was.
Alain blinked again. He wasn’t imagining it.
There was a woman with her back to him, a woman with sumptuous hips, bending over a fireplace. The glow from the hearth, and a handful of candles scattered throughout the large, rustic-looking room provided the only light to be had.
Why? Where was the electricity? Had he crossed some time warp?
Nothing was making any sense. Alain tried to raise his head, and instantly regretted it. The pounding intensified twofold.
His hand automatically flew to his forehead and came in contact with a sea of gauze. He slowly moved his fingertips along it.
What had happened?
Curious, he raised the comforter and sheet and saw he still had on his briefs. There were more bandages, these wrapped tightly around his chest. He was beginning to feel like some sort of cartoon character.
Alain opened his mouth to get the woman’s attention, but nothing came out. He cleared his throat before making another attempt, and she heard him.
She turned around—as did the pack of dogs that were gathered around her. Alain realized that she’d been putting food into their bowls.
Good, at least they weren’t going to eat him.
Yet, he amended warily.
“You’re awake,” she said, looking pleased as she crossed over to him. The light from the fireplace caught in the swirls of red hair that framed her face. She moved fluidly, with grace. Like someone who was comfortable within her own skin. And why not? The woman was beautiful.
Again, he wondered if he was dreaming.
“And naked,” he added.
A rueful smile slipped across her lips. He couldn’t tell if it was light from the fire or if a pink hue had just crept up her cheeks. In any event, it was alluring.
“Sorry about that.”
“Why, did you have your way with me?” he asked, a hint of amusement winning out over his confusion.
“You’re not naked,” she pointed out. “And I prefer my men to be conscious.” Then she became serious.“Your clothes were all muddy and wet. I managed to wash them before the power went out completely.”She gestured about the room, toward the many candles set on half the flat surfaces. “They’re hanging in my garage right now, but they’re not going to be dry until morning,” she said apologetically. “If then.”
He was familiar with power outages; they usually lasted only a few minutes. “Unless the power comes back on.”
The redhead shook her head, her hair moving about her face like an airy cloud. “Highly doubtful.When we lose power around here, it’s hardly ever a short-term thing. If we’re lucky, we’ll get power back by midafternoon tomorrow.”
Alain glanced down at the coverlet spread over his body. Even that slight movement hurt his neck.“Well, as intriguing as the whole idea might be, I really can’t stay naked all that time. Can I borrow some clothes from your husband until mine are ready?”
Was that amusement in her eyes, or something else? “That might not be so easy,” she told him.
“Why?”
“Because I don’t have one.”
He’d thought he’d seen someone in a hooded rain slicker earlier. “Significant other?” he suggested. When she made no response, he continued, “Brother? Father?”
She shook her head at each suggestion. “None of the above.”
“You’re alone?” he questioned incredulously.
“I currently have seven dogs,” she told him, amusement playing along her lips. “Never, at any time of the night or day, am I alone.”
He didn’t understand. If there was no other person in the house—
“Then how did you get me in here? You sure as hell don’t look strong enough to have carried me all the way by yourself.”
She pointed toward the oilcloth she’d left spread out and drying before the fireplace. “I put you in that and dragged you in.”
He had to admit he was impressed. None of the women he’d ever met would have even attempted to do anything like that. They would likely have left him out in the rain until he was capable of moving on his own power. Or drowned.
“Resourceful.”
“I like to think so.” And, being resourceful, her mind was never still. It now attacked the problem of the all-but-naked man in her living room. “You know, I think there might be a pair of my dad’s old coveralls in the attic.” As she talked, Kayla started to make her way toward the stairs, and then stopped.A skeptical expression entered her bright-green eyes as they swept over the man on the sofa.
Alain saw the look and couldn’t help wondering what she was thinking. Why was there a doubtful frown on her face? “What?”
“Well…” Kayla hesitated, searching for a delicate way to phrase this, even though her father had been gone for some five years now. “My dad was a pretty big man.”
Alain still didn’t see what the problem was. “I’m six-two.”
She smiled, and despite the situation, he found himself being drawn in as surely as if someone had thrown a rope over him and begun to pull him closer.
“No, not big—” Kayla held her hand up to indicate height “—big.” This time, she moved her hand in front of her, about chest level, to denote a man whose build had been once compared to that of an overgrown grizzly bear.
“I’ll take my chances,” Alain assured her. “It’s either that or wear something of yours, and I don’t think either one of us wants to go that route.”
It suddenly occurred to him that he was having a conversation with a woman whose name he didn’t know and who didn’t know his. While that was not an entirely unusual situation for him, an introduction was definitely due.
“By the way, I’m Alain Dulac.”
Her smile, he thought, seemed to light up the room far better than the candles did.
“Kayla,” she told him. “Kayla McKenna.” She saw him wince as he tried to sit up to shake her hand. Rather than a handshake,
