Christina Skye - The Accidental Bride

The man rubbed his jaw. “Not many people call Winslow honey. ”

“Well, I’m not most people.” Jilly raised an eyebrow, irritated that she couldn’t read the man. Not even a hint. “And honey is an equal-opportunity endearment. I use it for animals or people I like, male or female.”

Something zinged between them. Recognition and possibilities and just a hint of something deeper. Speculation. Man/woman stuff. Jilly’s meter spiked hard with that one. Unfortunately the feeling vanished before she could pin it down.

A muscle moved at Walker’s jaw. “Give the lady your paw, Winslow. Show your manners.” The big dog barked once, rolled over, raced around Jilly and then sat down, one paw raised perfectly.

“Isn’t that the smartest thing? You’re a real beauty.”

Walker scratched his dog’s head. Jilly noticed that this time his fingers moved until they found the exact spot she had pointed out at the dog’s ear.

Fast learner, she thought. Maybe she had been wrong about him. Again Jilly felt the little stirring along her neck.

“Lost Creek is a small place. Maybe I’ll see you around,” he said. “Are you staying for the week?”

“Ten days, actually. The classes are supposed to be pretty intensive.”

“I see.”

The attendant clearing the luggage area glanced over at them, clearly impatient to finish his work. Jilly saw a yellow taxi pull up out front.

“I’d better go before I lose my taxi.” Jilly swung her small suitcase off the carousel and wrinkled her nose. The smell of chocolate was unmistakable. Caro and her friends had stocked up on her favorite junk food in vain.

As she lifted the suitcase, two bags of chocolate candy fell out of the unzipped pocket. More candy spilled out, landing on plastic-wrapped bags of snack cakes in various flavors. Before she could turn the suitcase over, two sheer pieces of white lace fluttered to the floor.

Jilly blinked.

A ruffled lace camisole with matching bikini panties? Definitely not hers. She didn’t do lace, not in any shape or style. Ditto on the ruffles.

“That’s some stash of chocolate you have there.” Walker looked down at the camisole that had drifted down onto his well-worn brown cowboy boot. A muscle moved at his jaw. “Nice underwear, too.” He reached down and lifted the fragile lace carefully. “Sheer.”

“Civilized people call it lingerie, ” Jilly snapped. “And hands off, if you please.”

But she couldn’t take her eyes away from the strong fingers that cradled the frilly lace. The contrast was so sharp it made her feel hot and strangely dizzy.

Okay, time to get moving.

She grabbed at the candy bars and wrapped cakes, shoving them back into the suitcase. Then she reached for the camisole he was holding.

The ground suddenly swayed. Her breath caught.

“Hey.”

Jilly didn’t answer. Her face felt hot and flushed.

“You don’t look so good.” The voice came from very close by, but for some reason Jilly couldn’t focus. She was fascinated by the little green squares in the carpet, which seemed to jump and dance.

“Sit down.” Walker Hale gripped her shoulder and urged her down onto her suitcase. “Steady now.”

His voice sounded a million miles away. The floor kept spinning. Maybe it was because of the hours of travel. Or the altitude. Or dehydration.

Winslow pushed up against her chest, licking her face and whining softly. His owner leaned down beside him. “Jilly, look at me.” He cupped her chin and raised her face. Concern creased his forehead. “Take long breaths. Go on. Nice and deep. That’s right.” All his attention was focused on her, as if she were the only thing in the world.

Jilly seemed to slide straight down into his deep gray-blue eyes, as if she were wrapped up in a cool, clean mountain dawn. Now she could sense the warmth behind all his distance. Oh, yes, there were deep emotions here. There was power and need and loss, if you knew where to look and weren’t afraid to dig hard.

He was definitely intriguing.

“You’re shaking. Jilly, can you hear me?”

She hated that he was right. “I’m just a—a little dizzy. Maybe it’s altitude. Or something.”

“Hydration,” he said flatly. A water bottle met her fingers. “Drink it all.”

Winslow whimpered and sidled up beside her, offering his body for her to lean against. Still shaky, Jilly was glad to accept the support and the water. As she drank, she focused on Walker and realized that he looked concerned.

Really concerned.

Did she look that bad?

She tried to be casual. “I forgot to buy water in Denver. I had to run after a gate change.” Her throat was dry and the water felt like heaven. She finished drinking and ran a hand over her face, glad when the shaky feeling in her legs began to fade. “That’s better. Thanks.”

“Elevation can hit you hard. We’re not so high as Telluride or Jackson, but it’s high enough. Drink more water for the next few days. Don’t overexert yourself.” His fingers slid over her wrist and he focused on the big wall clock, watching numbers flicker by.

He seemed to know what he was doing, so Jilly closed her eyes and tried to relax, taking another deep breath.

“We’re only at 4,500 feet here, but the resort is another thousand feet up. Get acclimated slowly. No alcohol, whatever you do.” He continued to watch the clock. “You look okay, BP wise. A little high, but nothing crucial.” His voice was cool and soothing.

“Say that again.”

“Blood pressure. I’ve spent a lot of time at altitude and I know standard alpine medicine protocol. Do you have a history of heart problems? Asthma or emphysema?”

She looked away, frowning. “I’m fine.” She wasn’t going to discuss her health with this aloof stranger whose eyes saw too much. “I feel a lot better now. But I drank all your water.”

“Not a problem. I always carry a spare. I can get that one, too, if you think you need it.”

She flushed at his simple generosity. “No, but thank you. I really appreciate it.”

Winslow bumped at her hand and gave a short bark.

“Hey, Win. Let her catch her breath.”

“He’s no bother. Are you, sweetie? You’re just perfect.” Jilly scratched the dog’s head, wondering if she’d missed something. But no, she’d passed two exercise tests before leaving the hospital in Arizona. The heart halter she’d worn for a week had come up clean. This had to be a case of simple dehydration and the stress of travel. She did recall her doctor saying she should watch for signs of labored breathing and keep her exercise level low. He had warned her against going above 8,000 feet. But she would be fine here in Lost Creek.

When she got to the resort, she would reread all her medical instructions, which were stored safely in her bag. Since her blood pressure was fine, she wasn’t going to worry. Too bad that her plans for a nice latte and a glass of Merlot would have to go on hold.

She stood up slowly, relieved when her dizziness did not return. “I guess the traveling caught up with me. I’d better go grab that taxi. Apparently you don’t have a lot of choices for transportation in this town.”

Winslow bumped against her leg, whining.

“My dog sure does like you.” Walker sounded bemused. “I don’t understand it.”

“Wait a minute.” Jilly gave a sudden laugh and slid a hand into the pocket of her sweater. She pushed past a half-eaten bag of nuts until she felt a sealed plastic bag. “Bingo. All is illuminated.” With a flourish she held out a big piece of wrapped beef jerky, which she’d forgotten in the rush to leave. Her own dog, a snowy-white Samoyed, loved jerky, especially her homemade treats.