The Groom's Stand-In - Page 37

The thought of climbing onto that narrow bed with her was unsettling—but he was tired. And, hell, with his leg in a splint, there wasn’t much he could do with her in that bed, anyway…not that she’d had anything like that in mind when she’d invited him over, of course.

Since she needed rest and swore she couldn’t until he did, he would practically be doing her a favor to get into bed with her.

Satisfied with his logic, he nodded and reached for the stick again.

She sprang to his side. “Let me help you.”

It had become apparent to him that Chloe was more comfortable taking care of someone else than she was being cared for. He paused to blow out the candle, plunging the room into near-darkness, then allowed her to assist him to the bed. He motioned for her to take the inside, next to the wall. And then he sat on the edge and lifted his legs carefully onto the cot, his right leg on the outside edge.

It was a close fit, as he had expected, but not much tighter than the cave had been the night before. There were no pillows, of course, so he was lying flat on his back, as was Chloe. Pressed side to side, they lay so still and stiff they could have been plastic mannequins.

This was ridiculous, he thought. Neither of them would get any sleep this way.

“Relax,” he advised her. “You won’t bother me if you move.”

“Donovan?” Her voice was very quiet in the darkness.

He bent his right arm under his head, staring up at the rain-hammered metal roof. “Mm?”

“How far do you think we are from civilization?”

“Don’t know. I figure it’s quite a way, since the guy who built this place obviously didn’t care for company. It’s probably an all-day drive with a four-wheel-drive vehicle.”

“And how long walking?”

“More than a day.” Especially with his leg broken, he added silently.

“How much more?”

“I don’t know.”

After a brief silence, she asked in a small voice, “Are you ever afraid that we won’t get out?”

For the first time since they’d gotten away from their kidnappers, Chloe sounded scared. Vulnerable. She needed comforting—and while he wasn’t very good at that sort of thing, he would do his best.

He shifted his weight, then slid his left arm beneath her and pulled her onto his shoulder. “We’ll get out,” he said gruffly. “It’s just a matter of not giving up.”

Her hand on his chest, she burrowed into his shoulder as if grateful for the contact. But her voice was steady when she said, “I’m not giving up. I just wondered if you ever have any doubts.”

“I’m only human, Chloe.” Human enough to have a decidedly physical reaction to her nestling against him—but he pushed that awareness to the back of his mind and continued, “I can’t help wondering if something else will go wrong. Believe me, I’ve thought of every bad scenario that could happen to us—from wild animal attacks to a fall from one of those bluffs. But we can’t let fear paralyze us if we’re going to survive.”

He was half afraid his impulsive admission of weakness might increase her anxiety. Instead, she said, “It’s kind of nice to know you’re worried about those things, too. It makes me feel a little less cowardly.”

“Cowardly?” He shook his head against the canvas beneath him. “Chloe, you’re one of the least cowardly people I’ve ever met, man or woman. After all we’ve been through, I wouldn’t blame you if you were a basket case by now, but you’ve handled everything that’s come our way without complaining once.”

He wasn’t usually one to lavish praise, but he thought she should know he admired her courage and resilience.

There were a lot of things he admired about Chloe Pennington.

“Has anyone ever told you that you can be very sweet?” she asked after a rather lengthy pause.

He couldn’t see her face in the darkness, of course, but he knew she was smiling up at him. “Sweet isn’t a description I’ve heard very often,” he muttered wryly, though he was pleased to note that she sounded more at ease now.

“That’s because you come across so tough. But I want you to know how much I appreciate the way you’ve taken such good care of me throughout this ordeal.” Stretching upward, she brushed a light kiss against his jaw.

The contact jolted him like an electric shock, coursing through his veins and spilling into his groin. His arm tightened reflexively around her, but he forced himself to loosen his grip.

It was only gratitude, he reminded himself. And gratitude was all he had a right to accept from her.

Tags: Gina Wilkins Romance
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