Tucker looked down at her petite features and that cloud of blonde hair. She moaned and rolled to her side. Tucker wanted to stop her, but she rolled to her right side and that shouldn’t hurt her. The sheet slipped down to reveal the smooth skin of her shoulder. Tucker lifted the sheet and blanket back up to cover her, resisting the urge to touch that creamy skin. He didn’t want to stare at her in only her bra and intrude on her privacy. She seemed very… pure.
Maryn blinked and her blue eyes were dull but still very intriguing. “Tucker?” she croaked. She licked her lips. “I’m not dead?”
He grunted out a surprised laugh. “No, thank heavens.”
“The dog?”
“She’s doing okay too. They stitched her up and she’s running around in the garage tearing things apart and driving Braxton crazy. Her name is Max.” Tucker usually didn’t ramble on, but his relief at seeing her awake had him more excited than he’d been in a long time.
“Max.” She smiled, but it obviously took a lot of effort. “I’m glad he’s okay. Can I steal some water?”
Tucker laughed. “You can have all you want for free.” Grabbing a water bottle off the dresser he held it to her lips, squirting a little bit in at a time until she nodded slightly.
She gave him a faint smile, obviously still cloudy from the drugs. “I prayed pretty hard, and He sent me you…” Her voice trailed off, but he clearly heard her whisper, “You are my hero.”
Tuck swallowed hard, grateful she’d fallen asleep again and he didn’t have to reply to that comment. He used to think he was a hero and look where it had gotten him. He wasn’t sure he wanted to be a hero anymore.
* * *
Maryn opened her eyes to see Tucker studying her from the chair next to her bed.
“You’re awake again?” he said, his voice pitching up in a happy tone.
This huge man with the piercing dark eyes kept surprising her. She needed to get to the bottom of his secrets and see what kind of man he really was. A stinking handsome and tough dude that was for sure.
“Can I get you anything?” he asked.
Maryn shook her head, but then nodded as she remembered James. He would probably come up here and storm the house if she didn’t report in. They usually talked several times a day and the last thing she’d said to him yesterday was that the guard dog was coming and then she’d hung up on him and silenced her phone. Not very nice. “I need to get a hold of my… publisher. He’ll be stressing out.”
“We haven’t been able to make calls until this morning. Do you know where your phone is?”
Maryn closed her eyes, remembering. “It was in the pocket of my jacket. Did you throw away all my clothes?” How embarrassing that she was next to naked under these blankets. Who had been checking her out? At least she had on a favorite red and white swirled bra with decent coverage of essentials.
“They cut them off you, but I don’t think there was a phone. It must’ve fallen out in the snow. Do you know your publisher’s number?”
“No. It’s programmed in my phone.”
“Johnson can find it. He works with the PR people who set up the interview. We’ll get a message to your editor.”
“Thanks.” Her eyelids were starting to droop. “That would be perfect if you’d just callThe Rising Starand let them know what happened. Tell them to let James know I’m okay.”
“Sure.”
“Oh, and Tucker,” she forced herself to stay awake. “I need to know something.”
“Yes.” He glanced down at her, so concerned and protective.
She licked her lips and said, “What brand of cologne do you wear? It’s killing me.”
Tucker chuckled. He brushed some hair from her face and she trembled in response. “Giorgio Armani. Mama Porter gave me a bottle for Christmas one year and I liked it, so I kept buying it.”
“It blends perfectly with your chemistry. I mean, you smell perfect and I want to keep smelling it. I mean.” Maryn closed her eyes and sank into the pillows. “I am drugged and exhausted, forget everything I said.”
Tucker laughed and pulled the covers up, brushing his hand along her shoulder. Maryn knew she had some kind of diagnosable complex where you fall for your rescuer, but if he smelled and looked this good and was filthy rich to boot, who could blame her? The girls from Camp Wallakee would be proud she was interested in a billionaire and Alyssa would be shocked. She fell asleep with a smile on her face.
ChapterSeven
Braxton reported to the doctor that Maryn had awakened and didn’t show any signs of a concussion or spinal injury. Tucker smiled. Unless rambling on about how he smelled perfect counted as confusion. The doctor instructed that if she felt good enough and the plows had been able to clear the roads of the snow that had piled up and was still continuing to fall, they should bring her into the medical center in West Yellowstone tomorrow. Braxton came and checked her stitches, applying more antibacterial cream, and then covering them back up with clean gauze.