“Yeah, Miss Carlson. Our combined body heat will help keep us warm.” He snuggled close to her and pulled the furs up over their heads, effectively cocooning them inside. “Turn on your side, away from me.”
“Go to hell.”
She could almost hear him mentally counting to ten. “Look, I don’t want to freeze. And I don’t look forward to digging another grave to bury you in, either, so just do as I say. Now.”
He must have been an officer in Vietnam, she thought petulantly as she rolled on to her side. He put his arm around her waist and drew her back against him, until they were lying together spoon fashion. She could scarcely breathe. “Is this really necessary?”
“Yes.”
“I won’t move away. There’s nowhere to go. You don’t have to keep your arm there.”
“You surprise me. I thought you’d like this.” He pressed against her stomach with the palm of his hand. “You’re a real looker. Don’t you expect men to get all hot and bothered when they’re around you?”
“Let go of me.”
“All that long hair, its unusual color.”
“Shut up!”
“You’re proud of your round little butt and perky tits, aren’t you? I’m sure most men find you irresistible. That copilot sure did. He was salivating after you like a Doberman over a bitch in heat, almost stumbling over his tongue.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He stroked her stomach. “Oh, yes, you do. You must have enjoyed stunning all those men on the plane into speechlessness when you climbed aboard with your fur collar pulled up, brushing against your flushed cheeks and sexy mouth.”
“Why are you doing this?” she sobbed.
He cursed and when he spoke again, his voice wasn’t lilting and teasing. It was weary. “So you’ll rest assured that I’m not going to take advantage of you during the night. Redheads have never been my preference. Besides, your body is still warm from your sugar daddy’s bed. All things considered, your virtue is safe with me.”
She sniffed back tears of humiliation. “You’re cruel and vulgar.”
He laughed. “Now you sound offended that I’m not tempted to rape you. Make up your mind. If you have a hankering for sex tonight, I can oblige you. My body isn’t as particular as my head. After all, it’s awfully dark in here. And you know what they say about cats in the dark. But personally, I prefer safer, more comfortable surroundings to screw in. So just go to sleep, will you?”
Rusty grit her teeth in outrage. She held her body rigid and put a barrier between them, if not physically, then mentally. She tried to ignore his body heat, which permeated her clothing, and his breath that drifted over her neck each time he exhaled, and the latent power in the thighs that conformed to the backs of hers. Gradually, and with the help of the brandy she’d drunk, she relaxed. Eventually she dozed.
It was her own moan that woke her up. Her leg was throbbing painfully.
“What is it?”
Cooper’s voice was gruff, but Rusty didn’t think it was because he’d been roused from a deep sleep. Intuitively she knew that he had been lying there awake. “Nothing.”
“Tell me. What’s the matter? Your leg?”
“Yes.”
“Is it bleeding again?”
“I don’t think so. It’s doesn’t feel wet. It just hurts.”
“Drink some more brandy.” He angled himself away from her and reached for the flask of brandy, which he’d brought into the fur cocoon with them.
“I’m already woozy.”
“Good. It’s working.” He poked her lips with the uncapped flask and tipped it forward. She either had to drink or drown.
The potent liquor burned a fiery path down her middle. At the very least, it took her mind off her painful wound for a few seconds. “Thanks.”
“Open your legs.”