discovered that the pine branch was lying across the entire two lanes, making it impossible for the SUV to go around. The limb was thick, full of bushy needles and loaded with heavy snow.
There was nothing to do but drag it out of the way. But two major tugs against the full weight of the branch told him moving it by hand was out of the question. Man, what he’d give for a cross-cut saw just about now.
“Can I help?” Marcy’s question grabbed his attention.
“I told you to stay put,” he yelled against the wind. “The temperature out here has dropped beyond dangerous. Get back in the car.”
“You’ll never move anything that heavy by yourself,” she said, ignoring his question in a voice raised above the roar of the storm. “Can we use the SUV to push it out of the way?”
“No.” But her question gave him an idea.
Before buying the SUV, when he’d been checking out the compartment that held the spare tire, he was a little surprised to find jumper cables, a fold-up metal shovel, a cable-size rope and a thick blanket all stuffed in around the spare. The rental agent told him it was standard procedure to keep emergency supplies like those in every car they rented out during the dead of winter.
“That’ll have to work,” he grumbled to himself as he stomped to the cargo compartment of the SUV.
By the time he’d retrieved the rope from the compartment, Marcy was beside him again. “What’re you going to do?”
“We can’t push it out of the way. But maybe we can pull it aside far enough to drive around,” he told her.
Like most newer cars and trucks, this one didn’t have decent steel bumpers. But it did have a heavy-duty hitch installed to the frame under the rear bumper.
Lance glanced over at Marcy and caught the shiver that pulsed through her body. She wasn’t dressed warmly enough for this kind of weather. That coat of hers was worn out.
There was no question which of them would do what. “Do you think you can turn the SUV around so that it’s headed in the other direction? I’ll attach the rope and make sure it’ll hold.”
“Yes…yes, of course…” she stuttered.
When she was safely in the driver’s seat, he finally relaxed his shoulders. At least her feet wouldn’t be subject to frostbite while inside the warm vehicle.
He stepped aside and guided her by hand movements to a point he figured would be the best for moving the branch. After he’d made sure the rope was securely tied to both tree and SUV, he waved her ahead. She cracked the driver’s-side window to hear him over the wind.
She tried to inch ahead but the wheels were spinning against the icy patches and the building snow crystals. She couldn’t manage to get any traction.
“Let me try it,” he hollered.
Instead of scooting over the center console, Marcy hopped out of the driver’s door and started around the hood to the passenger side. She raised her hands to cover her mouth against the biting cold, and he got his first good look at her gloves.
Or her utter lack of adequate gloves would be a truer description of what he’d seen as she dashed past. He had originally thought she’d been wearing woolen mittens. Now he was shocked to see holes where her fingers poked through the thin material. She would have frostbite for sure.
Marcy climbed inside through the other door, and he slid into the driver’s seat. It didn’t take him but five more minutes to rock the SUV ahead, dragging the branch out of one lane. Two more minutes and the rope was untied and crammed back in the compartment with the spare. Then he successfully managed to turn the SUV once again so they could be on their way.
He eased the SUV down the road past the bulk of the tree. Once they were clear, he slowed and put it in Park.
Turning to face her, he tried to remain calm as he said, “Marcy, give me your hands.”
“What?” She swiveled and blinked at his odd demand.
Holding his own hands out, palms up, he cocked his head and waited.
She tentatively started to lay her hands in his, but looked wary and confused. It was all he could do not to break down and beg her to quickly do as he’d asked. He didn’t want to scare her, but this was too important.
Two
Marcy hadn’t realized how difficult it might be to give up control and let Lance take her hands. She should’ve known. After all, it had been more than eighteen months since she’d let a man so much as touch her.
When she glanced up to check the sincerity in his midnight-black eyes, her breath caught in her throat. Was that an erotic spark she saw in those eyes? Marcy had to fight within herself to ignore it and the powerful electric current she’d felt.
Eventually she surrendered her hands to him and stared blankly at where they were joined. The contrast between the golden skin of the back of his hands and the stark whiteness of her fingers drew her entire focus.
Lance studied their hands, too, his face contorted in a scowl. “We need to get these wet things off you in a hurry.”
“Huh?” That shocking sizzle of sensual awareness she’d just felt had obviously turned her into an idiot.
He didn’t wait for her to come to her senses. Tearing off her gloves, he dropped them in front of the heater. But he still didn’t let go of her hands.
Wonderful. Now the jolts of electricity were shooting clear up her arms and down her spine, making her overly warm and hypersensitive to every tiny touch. And here she’d thought her fingers were numbed by the cold.
She managed to keep herself from pulling away. Not that she really wanted to. Never in her life had a man’s touch affected her so strongly. Her mind froze at the same time her body heated.
But Lance’s next move stirred the blood clear to her toes and drove her totally past common sense. He tenderly lifted her hands to his mouth and lightly blew a warm breath across her fingers and palms.
Fire raced from her hands up through her veins, landing with a roar in her belly. Suddenly panicked by the intimate movements and by a fever that was driving her to madness, Marcy shuddered and tugged hard against his grip.
Either her frantic jerking or her audible gasps must’ve broken through Lance’s intense concentration. “Don’t pull away. Let me warm you up.”
The tone of his voice sounded more erotic to her than his words. She was already burning up simply from his touch.
“I’m concerned about frostbite,” he advised sternly.
Marcy couldn’t keep looking into his eyes. The intimacy was too much for her to take.
“I’m okay,” she told him as she began rubbing her hands together to get the circulation back.
“Don’t rub your hands that way.” He reached for her hands again. “Rubbing is one of the worst things you can do for frostbite.”
When
