would have been nice to hear a response, but of course there was none.
THE COLD, GRAY LIGHT of early morning was stealing through the windows of the cabin when Lauren was roused again by the buzz of the alarm clock. Stretching out a hand, she silenced the blasted thing.
She lay there for a moment, reluctant to stir. Then, remembering her patient, she lifted her head from the pillow to look down over the side of the sofa. And was startled out of her lingering drowsiness by a pair of riveting, blue-green eyes gazing back at her from the mattress.
Chapter Two
The only sound in the taut silence was the rustle of the embers in the fireplace as they sifted through the bars of the grate.
Swallowing nervously, she finally managed to find her voice. “You’re awake.”
It was hardly a necessary observation since he continued to regard her with those mesmerizing, blue-green eyes. Whether he was lucidly awake was another matter.
Concerned about that, she watched him lift his head from the mattress. The remarkable eyes narrowed in puzzlement as he cast his gaze around the room.
Then, looking at her again, his voice deep and raspy, he responded with a slow, “You mind telling me something?”
“What?”
“Just who the hell are you, and how did I get here? Wherever here is.”
It wasn’t a very friendly beginning—pretty brusque, in fact. But, considering how confused he must be, she was prepared to understand.
“The name is Lauren McCrea. The cabin is my home. And you don’t need to tell me who you are. I checked on your identity in your wallet.”
He considered her confession, maybe was briefly troubled by it—she couldn’t tell—and then nodded his acceptance. “Fair enough.”
“You had an accident. Do you remember it?”
“Oh, yeah. Skidded off the road while avoiding a collision with a—I don’t know, either a cow or a moose. Something like that.”
“It wouldn’t have been a cow. There are no farms around here. Might have been a moose, but more likely an elk.” The injury to his head hadn’t left him disoriented, anyway. That much was a relief. But she was still concerned about other possible injuries. “How are you feeling?”
“Like that elk went and walked all over me after I smacked into the tree.”
Lauren was alarmed when he shoved himself into a sitting position on the mattress. Throwing back the blanket that covered her, she swung her legs to the floor and sat up on the sofa.
“You shouldn’t be moving! Not with that cut on the side of your head!”
“A cut, huh?” Only then did he seem to be aware of his wound. He fingered it carefully. “Yeah, it’s kind of tender.”
“Maybe more than just that. You’ve been unconscious since the accident.”
He frowned, and as he glanced in the direction of a window, she could see him realize something else. That it was daylight.
“You telling me I slept around the clock?” He looked worried by that.
“You must have needed it.”
“It was probably a result of exhaustion as much as the accident. It all caught up with me.”
She waited for him to tell her what had caught up with him. But instead of explaining, his frown deepened, as though he regretted a careless admission.
“Whatever it was,” he continued, trying to sort it out, “I’m missing something. I still don’t know just how I ended up here and who I have to thank for—”
He broke off, looking around again, as if searching for his rescuer.
“No, there is no one else,” she said.
He swung his attention back to her. “Are you telling me—”
“That it was me who brought you here, yes.” She went on to inform him how she had spotted his headlights, traveled to the scene on her snowmobile and transported him back to the cabin.
“I’ll be damned.” He stared at her in wonder. “Nothing ordinary about you, is there, Lauren McCrea?”
She could see admiration in his gaze. It was silly of her to experience a sudden rush of warm pleasure. She tried to deny it with a shrug. “There’s nothing extraordinary about doing what you have to do.”
“Yeah,” he said soberly. He stroked the stubble on his jaw and looked thoughtful. “You report the accident?”
Lauren shook her head, not liking to admit it but knowing he had to be told. “The telephone is out. The power, too.”
“And the roads?”
“There’s no way to get through, and no knowing when everything will get back to normal.”
“You telling me we’re stuck here?”
“Until the plows are able to open the roads, and as bad as this storm is… Look, I’m sorry. You must be anxious to let family or friends know what happened and where you are, but I’m afraid that isn’t—”
“Don’t worry about it. It doesn’t matter.”
Odd. She would have thought it mattered a great deal. Before she could pursue his lack of concern in that direction, he pushed aside the blankets and got to his feet.
“What are you doing? You should be resting.”
“Right now, I need something…uh, more.”
“Oh,” she said, understanding.
“Uh-huh, a bathroom.”
“Through there.” She pointed in the direction of the hall that connected with the bedrooms and the bath. “But I don’t know how smart this is.”
He looked down at her from his six-foot height, a grin on his wide mouth. “You offering to go along and help, Lauren?”
The grin was slow, unexpected and decidedly sexy. It also left her flustered. He took pity on her.
“Relax. This body of mine may be suffering a few aches, but not enough to keep it down.” He eyed his travel bag where she had left it on the floor. “It could do with a cleanup, though. But I don’t suppose without power…”
“There’s running water,” she assured him. “I have a generator for the pump, but it’s too small to operate the water heater.”
“I’ve had cold showers before.”
There was no note of humor in his tone, as if the subject of cold showers raised some grim memory. Scooping up his travel bag, he headed
