He blinked in bewilderment, snowflakes falling and clogging on the most outrageous curling black lashes. Dark, dark eyes, the kind that a woman stared at. It was Lara’s turn to blink in puzzlement that such a thought should occur to her at such a time. Was she crazy?
‘Here...use the stick as a support,’ she pressed, pushing it into his hand, closing his clumsy fingers round it and standing. ‘It’s only a few yards.’
He levered himself up and swayed. ‘Sick, dizzy.’
‘Lean on me,’ she advised, staggering when he obliged. ‘Glory be, why do you have to be so big?’
‘Why do you have to be so small?’ he groaned, lurching forward at a snail’s pace, his feet dragging. ‘What height are you?’
‘Four feet ten,’ Lara admitted with great reluctance.
He staggered and swayed outside the back door, struggling to stay upright, and she thrust the door wide, scared to let go of him in case he went down again.
‘Four feet ten,’ he slurred like a drunk. ‘Like a miniature person out ofGulliver’s Travels.’
‘Enough!’ Lara snapped as he stumbled over the threshold and rocked like a very tall building in an earthquake. ‘Over to the seat by the fire before you fall down.’
‘Don’t overheat me...it’s dangerous with hypothermia,’ he warned her.
Lara gritted her teeth as she guided his wavering steps towards the stove and pressed him down in the big fireside chair there. A sharp word from her silenced the mad excitement of the dogs careening round them. She swiped off his beanie because she had noticed a bloodstain on it and walked round to the back of the chair, tipping his head forward. He had a lot of dense black hair and she gently felt through it to feel the sizeable swelling there. There was no large wound and didn’t seem to be any fresh blood. The rich musky scent of him assailed her nostrils. He smelled incredibly good.
‘I think you’ll live,’ she murmured unevenly, still out of breath from her efforts with him. ‘Are your feet wet?’
‘Sì...’
The foreign word took her aback because he had previously spoken what she would have described as distinctly posh public-school English. ‘Wet?’ she pressed again.
‘Yes,’ he finally mumbled.
‘We’ve got to take off anything wet that you’re wearing to raise your temperature and then I’ll get blankets.’ Lara dropped down at his feet to tackle his boots. ‘I thought these would have been waterproof.’
‘Got my socks wet,’ he groaned.
Lara rolled her eyes and dragged off the sodden socks, noting that he even had nicely shaped feet. She raced off to get blankets from Cathy’s substantial airing cupboard. Returning to his side, she checked his waterproof jacket.
‘Think we’d better get this off too...let the heat in,’ she reasoned uncertainly, unzipping and unsnapping at speed.
‘Are you planning to strip all of me?’ he asked lazily, raising his head for the first time to look directly at her.
And, wow, that first glance froze her in her tracks because it was the first proper look she had managed to have of him, so busy had she been trying to get him into the house and then work out what best to do for him. Now the most amazing caramel-brown eyes collided with hers and held her fast. Looking away was more than she could contrive when those stunning eyes, illuminated to tawny gold by the firelight, were set in the most gorgeous masculine face. Tousled black hair tumbled over his brow to match sculpted cheekbones, an arrogant blade of a nose and a strong jawline, enhanced by a swirl of thick black stubble. His incredible bone structure was very distinctive and, she thought weakly, capable of turning any female head.
‘You’re like a doll,’ he muttered, frowning and moving his head slightly to focus better, his lips compressing as she hovered in front of him.
‘You’re in pain.’
‘Only a headache,’ he parried, shifting his wide shoulders back and letting her tug at his sleeve to free one arm. As he spoke the dogs settled round his feet and their relaxed attitude to him eased her tension.
Lara dragged the jacket off and set it aside before checking the long-sleeved top he wore underneath. It was dry but she could feel the clammy chill of his broad chest underneath. And the realisation that she had been so busy mooning over him that she had momentarily forgotten what was most important shamed her. Shooing the dogs away, she grabbed up the blankets and carefully covered him, tucking the warm folds round his bare feet with extra care. To her amusement the dogs settled back round him again.
‘I need to get you warm,’ she muttered, stoking the stove to encourage a fresh burst of heat.
‘It’s a shame sharing body heat to chase the cold has gone out of fashion,’ he murmured sibilantly.
My goodness, he was flirting with her, so he couldn’t be that injured, Lara registered in disconcertion, a flush warming her cheeks. She didn’t have much practice with flirting. Decent men tended to assume she was younger than she was and treat her like a kid sister. The oversexed types wasted little time trying to get her into bed, which was a major turn-off for her. The men who she deemed attractive were invariably not attracted to her. That was why she was still a virgin at twenty-one. But that lack of sexual experience was also the result of her adoptive mother’s frequent affairs and break-ups, not to mention the sleazy boyfriends who had targeted Lara as an adolescent. The way she saw it, a little restraint was an extra tool in her self-preservation box.
‘You’re very shy,’ he mumbled thickly.
Seeing that his head was dipping lower, she shook herself free of his intoxicating effect on her and said anxiously, ‘No, don’t go to sleep. As far as I know you shouldn’t be sleeping, not with the concussion you probably have.’