21. Heat
Heat
Claire drifted awake, her brow drawn in confusion, her sleepy mind trying to figure out what was wrong. She was uncomfortable. Cold. When she opened her eyes, the darkness was thick and disorienting. Where am I? The howling wind answered.
She sat up in the twin bed, teeth chattering. After the electricity had gone out, she'd chosen the bed against the inner wall, hoping it would be warmer than the one next to the window. It hadn't made a difference.
Fumbling for the flashlight on the nightstand, she switched it on and checked her phone. Only a few hours of sleep. She needed more, but not in this icebox. Wrapping the blankets around her, she shuffled into the sitting room, drawn to the fire's warmth.
She stood in front of the hearth for a while, letting the heat soak into her bones.
The settee looked tempting, but it was too short to stretch out on, and curling up didn't help much.
She tried laying across both chairs. After sliding between them, she checked to see if she could move the cushions to the floor to form a sleeping pad.
No such luck. The cushions were fixed. Next, she arranged her blankets and pillows on the floor, but they weren't thick enough to protect her from the cold, hard surface beneath.
She sat back on the hearth, hugging her knees. The is ridiculous. She was exhausted, freezing, and out of options.
Her gaze drifted to Noah's door. Don't even think about it. But she did. She thought about how warm and cozy she'd felt sitting beside him under the quilt. How steady. How safe.
It's just for warmth , she told herself. Survival. Like camping. Nothing weird about it.
Biting her lip, she gathered her extra quilts and padded to his door. She knocked softly. When he didn't answer, she cracked open the door. "Noah? Noah, are you awake?"
"Mmph," he muttered.
Claire hesitated at the door. "Noah, it's freezing. I can't sleep out there. Is it okay if…?" She trailed off, unsure if he could even hear her.
The lump under the covers grunted and shifted in bed. Claire smiled. She'd come to understand his nonverbal cues over the last few months and grunts were usually code for "yes, but I don't want to agree out loud."
Aiming her flashlight at the floor to avoid blinding him, she tiptoed into the room. The queen-sized bed was tucked into the far corner with Noah curled up against the wall. "Plenty of room," she whispered, more to herself than him. Please don't let this be a mistake.
She spread her quilts over the bed, careful to cover him too, then slowly lifted the covers and slid in, staying on the outer edge. He didn't stir.
The weight of the blankets and the heat radiating from his side calmed her shivers. Her muscles slowly relaxed, and her thoughts grew soft around the edges. She snuggled deeper into the covers, letting the growing warmth and Noah's steady presence lull her back to sleep.
Noah drifted to awareness, his body warm and his arm anchored in place by a soft weight.
Normally he slept on his back, but this morning he woke up on his side, with multiple points of heat searing his skin.
He wasn't alone. He locked his legs around her and pulled her tighter against him, pressing into her softness.
His hands roamed her body, finding skin under way too many bedclothes, then running along the curve of her waist up to the soft weight of her breast.
As his mind awakened, he wondered where he'd met her and how she'd wound up in his bed.
Sleep fled and his eyes flew open. He was in his room at the guest house in Leesburgh, where they'd had to seek shelter from the storm.
And the woman in his arms, whom he was grinding his morning boner against, was— Shit! Claire!
One arm cushioned her head, and the other was busy kneading— Damn it! He removed his hand from her breast and slowly unraveled his legs from hers, attempting to create some space between them. Why was Claire in his bed? This was not good, despite just how fantastic his body thought it was.
Before he could extract himself further, she rolled over and blinked up at him. She stared blankly at him as he carefully extracted his hand from her stomach, where it had landed after abandoning its exploration.
"Good morning," she said, drawing her legs away and pulling the covers up to her chin, while keeping her eyes locked onto his.
"Er, what… how…"
Her words rushed out to cut him off. "It got really cold in the night. I tried to wake you up, but— dude, you sleep pretty hard. I combined our resources and… Please don't be mad. I-I was cold." She trailed off, and he strained to hear the last bit.
He'd expected indignation at him feeling her up. Oh my god, I felt her up! Her words tumbled through his non-caffeinated brain as he struggled to put the story together with last night's power outage. Once it clicked, he rolled onto his back and laughed heartily.
"You—Miss Prim and Proper Merry Sunshine—crawled into bed with me." He laughed some more. Then wiped his hand over his face, before dragging it through his hair.
"You're not mad?" she asked.
"Why would I be mad?" He turned his head and studied her, wondering if she'd been awake when he'd copped a feel.
She didn't seem too distraught, mostly she looked guilty.
His sense of humor took over. "It was quite pleasant to wake up next to a warm female body in my bed this morning.
" A mischievous urge took root that he couldn't resist. He dropped his voice an octave and asked, "What are you wearing?
" He grasped the covers as if to lift them up to take a peek.
Claire squealed and clenched the quilt in a death grip. When he didn't move any further, but grinned at her instead, she gave him a tentative smile back. "You're playing with me. I always thought you were grumpy in the morning."
"I am grumpy in the morning, but this situation is ridiculous. You can't help but laugh. What time is it?" He glanced at the antique wall clock. Late enough, there should have been more light shining through the window. "It's quieter outside."
"The storm's abated?" Claire grinned. "Finally! Although it's not completely gone, is it? Is that rain I'm hearing?"
"Sounds like it," he said. "It's still overcast outside or the room would be brighter."
They lay listening to the light patter of soft rain. Noah was alarmingly aware of Claire lying in bed next to him. He wanted to stretch, but wasn't sure how to do so without touching her. He was about to suggest she get up when she spoke.
"I slept wonderfully last night. You're a good bed partner."
He rolled onto his side to face her, with one eyebrow cocked.
"You looking for a good bed partner, Claire?
" The words were out before he could contain them.
Damnit, Raines. That instinct to charm so often overrode his common sense.
He scowled at the sudden image of his brother laughing at him. Shut up, Tristan.
"No!" She blushed prettily, distracting him from the thoughts in his head.
"No?" He leaned toward her and, when she didn't move away, he reached for the wayward curl covering her face and tucked it behind her ear.
"I just… I was just cold. And you know, nature videos always say body heat is best." She sighed. "It seemed like a good idea in the middle of the night when I was freezing. I'm really sorry if I crossed a line. I'll just go."
Guilt flooded him at her dejected tone. He reached for her chin and nudged it up. "Hey, look at me. We're okay. I'm not offended. I think it's funny. And, uh… I'm sorry for groping you when I first woke up."
Her eyes widened.
"Oh," he said, mentally kicking himself. "Yes, well… apparently, we cuddled up nicely during the night. Body heat and all." His desire to pull her into a blistering kiss warred with his need to maintain distance.
She rolled onto her side and faced him, her gaze dipping to his lips. This was bad. If she moved closer, he wasn't sure he could stop. Her lips begged to be kissed. He leaned forward slowly, giving her time to pull back.
Claire focused on Noah's lips as he leaned in. Is he going to kiss me? Her heart hammered in her chest and her lips parted in anticipation.
The kiss was tentative, his lips softer than she expected.
She caressed his jawline, the shadow of his beard rough against her fingers.
His kiss grew bolder, and she sighed into it.
The noise must have signaled something to him, because he pulled her roughly against him, then slightly under him.
His hand roamed, and hers followed suit.
The shock of bare skin under her hands faded quickly as she continued to explore his chest and back.
Her mind stuttered at the muscles moving beneath her fingers. He felt strong. Solid.
His tongue ran along her lips, and she opened her mouth to him.
A part of her brain acknowledged when he squeezed her bottom and ground his erection against her, but she was living in the moment, absorbing the sensations of their tangling tongues.
She ran her hands through his hair, amazed at how velvety it felt slipping through her fingers.
Fine and soft were not words she associated with this man.
The jarring ring of a phone startled them both.
Still entwined in the embrace, they stared at each other, their breathing harsh.
Reluctantly, Claire moved and he let her go.
He reached across her, the scent of his body invading her senses and awakening parts of her that shouldn't be stirring while on a road trip with a coworker.
She'd never hated phones more than she did at this moment.
"Apparently, the phones work without electricity," he said as he lifted the handset to his ear. "Hello?" he answered.
Claire watched Noah as he listened to the caller. Her fingers itched to trace the line of his jaw and smooth his hair where she'd mussed it.
He caught her gaze and stared back at her as the caller continued to speak.
"Thanks for the heads up. I'll let Claire know. And yes, I'd be interested in accompanying you." He listened some more, his eyes never leaving hers. She grew warm under his golden gaze. "Sounds good. See you then."
He reached over her again to hang up the phone. Afterward, he stopped and pressed his forehead to hers before placing a chaste kiss on her nose. "We need to discuss what just happened, but we don't have time. Archie and Devon are driving to the airport and have invited me along."
Claire looked up at him. He was still pressed against her, but the phone call had cooled their passion. Her voice croaked, and she cleared her throat to try again. Ignoring what had just passed between them, she asked, "How long will you be gone?"
He rolled off of her and sat up in the bed. The cold rushed in from where the bedding fell back, but the sight of his naked back distracted Claire. She tracked his movements as Noah dragged his fingers through his hair. "I don't know. Let's go down for breakfast and find out, shall we?"
She nodded, but didn't move. He shifted to face her and her gaze dropped to his bare chest. He was lean and solid, with just enough definition to make her brain short-circuit. And the sprinkling of chest hair? Unexpectedly fascinating.
"Claire," he said, his voice low and amused, "you're staring. Should I be flattered or concerned?"
Her eyes snapped up, and heat rushed to her face.
"Sorry," she said. Then inexplicably added, "I liked kissing you."
He groaned and flopped back down beside her. "I liked kissing you, too. This is a problem."
"Yes," she agreed. Everyone knew messing around with someone from work complicated things.
And women usually got the short end of the stick if things went south.
Her stomach growled, and she took the opportunity to duck and run.
"But we'll worry about it later. Breakfast is a great idea.
And we can find out what's going on outside. "
He rolled toward her and propped himself up on one elbow, the blanket slipping dangerously low. "You might want to leave first," he said grinning.
"Why?"
"Because I'm not wearing much under here. And if I get up before you leave, you're going to see more of me than you bargained for."
She yelped and scampered out of the room, his laughter chasing her as she fled.