Cherry Adair - T-flac 06 by On Thin Ice

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    tired enough to lie down in the snow for her nap.
    "Over here."
    She suddenly noticed the second bed of branches beside him. No freaking way . Even exhaustion had its limits. "I don't think so."
    "Me or the snow."
    "Snow's safer."
    "Don't be ridiculous."
    "That's too close to you," Lily told him. "Way too close."
    "I won't bite," he said, his eyes on her mouth. "At least not very hard."
    Lily's heart did that weird flip-flop in her chest. Ridiculous. "I'm presuming," she said as coolly as she could manage while swaying on her feet, "that you're practicing your seduction skills on me because there isn't another female humanoid around for a couple of hundred miles. News flash, Romeo: you're wasting your breath. I've been vaccinated. I'm immune, remember?"
    "Are you now?" he asked, his voice silky. He rose and went to the fire, where he poured a mug of steaming, fragrant coffee. He came back to her, his large, booted feet crunching in the snow, and handed her the cup. "Sit down and drink this."
    "I don't want—" She met him glare for glare, then shook her head. Why was she arguing? He held the elixir of the gods in his hand, and her legs were about ready to collapse anyway. She sat down on his sleeping bag and reached for the mug, careful not to touch his hand as she did so. And ignored the little thrill of excitement in her tummy as his fingers brushed hers anyway. Not excitement, she assured herself.
    Annoyance .
    "If you're immune, you're okay to take coffee from the enemy."
    "You're not the enemy…" Exactly . She took a scalding sip of coffee.
    "That's my girl," he said with approval as she took another sip. "Sometime when you're not falling over exhausted, you'll have to elaborate on that one for me."
    She bit her tongue. "I'm not anybody's girl." The heat of the mug warmed her hands even through her gloves. "You're flogging a dead horse. Again ."
    "Drink it," he instructed harshly, standing over her, the light of the fire flickering on his face. "Because you're a widow?"
    "Because I—I loved my husband, and he's only been dead six months." She took several more sips of the hot liquid and it burned all the way down her esophagus. Oh yeah. Just the way she liked it. Then Derek spoke again and ruined a perfectly good coffee rush.
    "Sean was sick for years before he died. You didn't have a husband. You had a patient."

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    She stared up at him, appalled by his callousness. "That's a terrible thing to say." True, but callous.
    "It's the truth and we both know it. It was a terrible thing for you to go through."
    "Not me. Sean."
    "He's the one that got all the attention and sympathy. What about you?"
    "I wasn't the one dying."
    He gave her an enigmatic look. "Weren't you?"
    "My God, Derek. That's low. Even for you."
    " You're still alive, Lily. When are you going to take something for yourself?"
    "I have everything I need. I'm perfectly fine, thank you very much."
    "You're going to be a hell of a lot… finer, believe me."
    Her heart started pounding erratically in her chest and her mouth went arid. She licked dry lips as she stared up at him. "What does that mean?"
    "Think about it," he said softly, his eyes focused on her mouth. "And while you do, let's get you settled for the night before you fall asleep sitting right there." In seconds he'd spread her bag and unzipped it.
    "Get your boots off and climb in. Unless you want to share mine with me. We'd both be a lot warme—"
    He gave a short bark of laughter. "Jesus, if looks could kill I'd be a smoking ember right about now.
    Okay, move onto your own sleeping bag then. Now, where are your dry socks?" His eyes tracked her features and he shook his head. "Never mind, I'll find them."
    He strode over to her sled and rummaged around for her duffel bag. He didn't look up from what he was doing, and she stared at his broad back with glassy