She couldn't walk another step. She was soaked to the bone and the salt from the seawater was making her itch. The cold water was also responsible for her stiff muscles that were screaming for her to stop and rest. But she knew she couldn't, if she stopped she might not get going again. She'd read all the books about survival; if she stopped she would probably fall asleep, if she fell asleep she might never wake up again.
Someone has to live around here! I saw the dock earlier. She would have seen the smoke too if the misty drizzle hadn't cut the visibility in half. Of course if she had seen the smoke she would have seen the shore and wouldn't have wrecked her boat. The worst part about it was that no one knew she had gone out sailing. If she died no one would think to look for her for days. The price I pay for running.
She continued to walk until her legs couldn't carry her anymore. Her knees buckled and she barely felt the sting of rock scraping at her palms her body was so numb. Curling into a ball she thought to herself, I'm just going to rest here for a minute. I won't fall asleep. I'll be fine in a few minutes and keep going. Just a few minutes...a few minutes became hours.
She dreamed of dogs barking and of a man's soothing voice telling her everything was going to be fine, that she was safe. She felt like she was floating, drifting on nothingness. Only to softly land on a bed of feathers that lifted and surrounded her in warmth. She dreamed of fingers of sunshine smoothing over her arms and her back, loosening tight muscles and soothing away fears.
She felt like a duck roasting in an oven. Her hand blindly searched over what was causing such warmth. She felt something close to silk against her fingertips. Since touching it felt so wonderful she let her fingers trail deeper into it until she came up against a firm barrier. It felt like skin. But that was impossible; she was alone in the woods. Dismissing it as a dream she decided to go with it. She flattened her palm against the silk and warmth, letting her hand glide over it, trailing lower until she felt something much more coarse. Her fingers quested further to find what felt like satin wrapped around something hard. Curiosity made her hand close around it.
"You're in deep water if you keep that up." That voice was too clear to be a dream. Her hand shot up to his chest to lever her self up and look at whom she was draped over. Her eyes met a man's face. He was relaxed, his eyes at half-mast and a slight smile on his lips.
"Who?" She croaked. Her voice was hoarse and her throat burned. "Who are you?"
"My name is Mark." As he spoke he slowly lifted his hand to brush a lock of hair that had fallen forward, tucking it behind her ear. "What do you remember?" He asked softly.
She was vaguely aware that he was stroking her back. It felt right, familiar. She didn't know that he had been there all night stroking and rubbing her aches and pains. Giving her warmth to keep her alive.
"A storm came out of no where. I was headed back to this little nitch I'd found earlier to moor the boat. I was going to wait it out and head back to one of the harbours in the morning. I'd started to bring in the sails so I could just motor in. A gust of wind caught me off guard when I was bringing in the Genoa." The expression on her face showed that she was indeed reliving her night of terror. She began to tremble as if cold. "The jib was ripped out of my hands and the sheet wrapped around part of the mast. If I didn't cut it loose I wouldn't be able to bring in the main. I grabbed a knife and bellied my way to the mast. But when I cut the rope the boat pitched." The memories of fear flowed though her, shaking her to the core. She could have been hit in the head and drowned. She had been so lucky.
"It all happened so fast! I brought my arms up just in time to block the boom from hitting my head. It threw me over board... after that I don't remember swimming to shore... or how I got here." She looked away from him as she reached for some thread of control.
"One of my dogs found you laying unconscious in the woods not far from the house. You were so cold your lips had turned blue. I brought you back here and got you out of those wet clothes and under the covers." He watched her blush as she realized that they were both naked. "The blankets weren't enough so I climbed in with you. You could've died last night."
If I don't get out of this bed right now I'm going to end up kissing her. Good way to make an uncomfortable situation worse. My questions about what she was doing out there all alone will have to wait for later... He slid his arm out from under her and slipped out of bed. As he stood up he grabbed the towel he'd used to dry her luscious body off and wrapped it around his waste. Remembering how she had looked in the soft light from the bedside lamp made his blood rush out of his head into his loins. So he wouldn't frighten her he kept his body turned away from her as he spoke.
"Well at least now I know how you came by those bruises on your arms." she gasped in shock when she looked at the purple bands on the sides of her arms. "Ah, your throat must be killing you. How about some tea or soup? You must be hungry?"
"Umm yeah. That would be great, ah and maybe something to put on?" she watched him with eyes shaded by her lashes. She could see the muscles of his back and shoulders rippling as he moved around. She saw strength and power, and yet remembered how he had gently caressed her. He could really hurt me...she thought. But despite her fears she had to bite her lip to keep from asking him to come back to bed so she could touch him more.
He tossed her a quick look over his shoulder and stifled a groan. She looked so damn sexy. Her sun streaked blond locks were in curly disarray around her face. She was biting her lower lip and had a slight flush to her skin. Her hand was clutching the sheets to her breasts. Hmm think of a cold shower Mark. Get it together!
"Sure thing. Just give me a few minutes to find something that you won't swim in. I'll be back." And with that he grabbed a pair of jeans off a chair and headed out the door. True to his word he came back shortly. He had a bowl of veggie soup and some tea on a tray, draped over his arm was a shirt of some sort.
"Do you have a name?" he asked, smiling at her as she sat back up. Once again clutching the sheets to her breasts. She watched him set the tray on the bedside table before answering. When he looked back at her with question in his eyes, she smiled slightly to cover her wariness.