Chapter 37 Fingers Intertwined
Her fingertips brushed his.
She froze.
Ryan moved his hand closer to his side, apparently taking the contact for an accident.
Chloe’s face grew hotter. She had no experience with this, but she knew what reaching for him in the dark might suggest.
The darkness was also what made it possible. She couldn’t have done it with him looking directly at her.
She’d started now.
Before she could lose her nerve, she reached again and caught his hand.
He paused, then began to draw back. She slipped her palm against his and threaded their fingers together.
Ryan stopped moving.
Heat seemed to spread through her entire body. She held on.
His breathing changed a little, but nothing else happened.
Relief gave way to confusion. Wasn’t this clear enough? Was he shy?
That didn’t sound like Ryan.
Then she remembered his fiancée—or wife, at least in name. Perhaps that was why he was holding back.
She decided to risk a little more.
Drawing his hand toward her, she shifted their arms, rolled onto her side, and moved closer. Her head came to rest against his upper arm.
He turned toward her.
Her courage deserted her at once. She shut her eyes and pretended to settle comfortably into place.
Ryan didn’t pull away. Doing so would humiliate her, and he had no wish to hurt her.
But he didn’t take things further, either. He rested his arm loosely around her and closed his eyes.
Chloe waited, hardly daring to breathe.
When he stayed where he was, she relaxed.
She didn’t know what he thought of her or what this meant to him. For now, lying close was enough.
If he’d responded more forcefully, she might not have known what to do. This gentleness suited her better than she’d expected.
She felt safe.
The alcohol, the day’s exertion, and the release of fear finally caught up with her. Soon she was asleep.
Ryan remained awake.
The sounds from the next tent had been distracting enough. Now Chloe was warm against his side, sleeping peacefully while he stared at the ceiling.
It was a long time before exhaustion won.
Movement against his chest woke him.
He opened his eyes to find Chloe carefully lifting herself away. Their gazes met, and she reddened.
She sat up quickly, sweeping back her tangled hair.
“Good morning.”
Still half asleep, he laughed at the abrupt greeting.
“Morning.” He sat up. “I’ll take a walk. Give you some room to get ready.”
“Okay.”
Outside, he went down to the pool and splashed water over his face. The cold cleared the last of his drowsiness.
He sat on a rounded stone and lit a cigarette.
Chloe taking his hand had surprised him. So had finding her tucked against his side.
What had it meant? Gratitude? Attraction? A need for comfort after nearly dying?
He shook his head.
There was no point building expectations around one extraordinary night.
Danger could make people cling to each other. Return them to ordinary life, and feelings that had seemed overwhelming could fade.
A man and woman stranded together might forget every difference between them. Back home, money, family, and social expectations could become important again.
Out here, his skills made him useful. Back in the city, Chloe might look at him and see the same penniless stranger she’d hired on the street.
Better to wait and see.
Connor emerged from the neighboring tent and stretched. Spotting Ryan, he came over with a smile.
“You’re up early.”
Ryan gave him a pointed look.
“You’ve got some stamina, Connor.”