Bound to You (One Night of Passion 1.50)

“Not a bad idea. I considered it. But I don’t want to chance it. That pile is both tight and slippery. There’s a good chance if we start to move it, it could cause another landslide and one or both of us could be buried.”

She sighed in disappointment. There had to be a solution they just weren’t considering.

“John?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you searching for a passage out of here?”

“No. There’s no way out of here except for straight up.”

“How do you know for certain?”

“Because if there was, our friend the squirrel would have found it.”

“But the squirrel got in here,” she reasoned.

“Yeah,” he said, turning when he’d completely circled the chamber. “And that mine collapsed after him.”

Her heart sank. She trailed him back to the center of the cavern. She realized belatedly that he hadn’t been searching for an exit but was instead detailing the space, using his hands as she would her eyes. He ran his hand along the earthen floor, searching, bypassing his coat when he encountered it. A second later, he picked up something.

“Oh,” Jennifer muttered when she saw a cane in his hand.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“It’s a cane. I thought it was a rifle, up there in the woods.”

He frowned.

“It was an honest enough mistake. I was startled when you called out and didn’t have much time to study you. Aren’t blind people supposed to use white canes?”

“I tend to do a lot of things blind people aren’t supposed to do.”

“Obviously.” She studied him with growing interest and respect. He stretched his hand out toward the beam of sunlight, then plunked down on the ground beneath the column of light.

“What do we do now?” Jennifer asked.

“Nothing much to do but wait. I’m going to gather some of those loose pieces of wood on the ground over there for a fire in a bit, but you might as well enjoy the sunshine while we have it. It’s going to get chilly awful quick down here when the sun goes down.”

She walked toward him, pausi

ng when she noticed his cane lying next to him. It was a unique cane—longer than most because of his height, made of wood wrapped tightly in black leather. The crook was exposed wood, however, smooth and worn from use. That was odd. Wouldn’t the handle be the obvious place to put the leather in order to cushion his hand?

She swallowed thickly and transferred her gaze to his face, glad to have the opportunity to see him in full light.

It took her a split second to realize she needn’t be sly about checking him out. She stepped closer and charted his face. His eyes were the clear sky blue of a summer day. Like his sensual mouth, they stood out in stark contrast to the rest of his rugged features.

Suddenly he was staring directly at her and she glanced away. Why was she blushing? He couldn’t see. She knelt tenderly in preparation to sit, suppressing a groan when her hip hit the ground.

“Come here,” he said.

“Uh . . . what?” she asked, confused by his request. Had he somehow sensed her staring at him—admiring him?

“Take off your jacket and come here.”

“I don’t think so.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to attack you. Your muscles got beat up on that fall. You got it worse than I did. You’re not going to be able to move tomorrow morning if we don’t do something to help you. Take off your jacket.”