Page 29 of Some Like It Hot

Closed her eyes.

Oh, she needed sleep. Without nightmares.

Without Freeman.

“By the way, not only can you handle yourself, but I think you’re pretty tough, too.”

Clearly not tough enough. Because despite her resolve, here she was, right back in Riley’s arms. She breathed in his scent—clean, although with the finest hint of smoke and salt on his skin—and sank into the strength of his arm around her.

She refused to be afraid. Or broken.

But if she were, this was exactly where she’d want to be.

Five

Never did Riley want to be a different man more than when Larke closed her eyes and fell into a deep, beautiful, unblemished slumber in his arm.

Just the one arm because the other was pinned to his body, thanks to the body sling. And probably that was a good thing because that pretty much meant he was unable to roll over and run his fingers through her white-gold hair or smooth his hand down her shoulder or even tuck her in closer.

He had to behave.

And of course hewouldbehave—he wasn’t that guy to take advantage of a woman while she was sleeping, but…

But with everything inside him, he battled theotherguy. The guy who told him that she’d never see him as anything but the one-night stand she’d gone after in the Midnight Sun.

A guy she couldn’t depend on. A guy she couldn’t trust. And certainly not a guy she’d give her heart to.

Thatguy was painfully aware of how she smelled—musky, the tiniest scent of exertion on her skin. And the morphine wasn’t helping, because it took the edge off his pain and made him sink into dreams and what-ifs and wishes and…

If you can keep your head when all about you are losing theirs…

Yeah, yeah. Right, okay.

If you can trust yourself…

He drew in a breath. Yes, he could.Shecould. He leaned his cheek against her head and closed his eyes.

She shivered against him, and his eyes popped open. Of course she was cold—her jacket was draped over the chair. And he had this nice cotton blanket.

Okay, he could fix this. Just had to move, to ease his arm from under her head…

He positioned himself, one eye closing against a grunt as his shoulder jerked. But he managed to pull his arm free, her head sliding onto the mattress. Then he leaned down and began to work the blanket off himself. He’d leave just the sheet, and wrap the blanket over her like a sandwich.

A sweat beaded on his brow as the pain of his efforts burrowed through him, and oh, this was silly. Better to just call the nurse and get another blanket. But he didn’t know what the rules might be, and calling for help would probably wake Larke, and he didn’t want her jumping up and deciding that getting cozy with him was a bad idea.

Although…

No. He could be the guy she needed. His words from two nights ago rushed back at him and he let them sink in.

I can be more, if that’s what you need.

It struck him that maybe she didn’t need him.

But oh, he needed her. Or at least the way she made him want to be that guy—the one who would run into the firefight and throw his body over hers. The guy who would sacrifice himself—and yes, okay, his personal desires—because he honored her. He respected her.

So, yeah, if she was shivering, she was getting his blanket. And if she was still cold, he would go out into the hall in his flimsy gown and beg.

He gritted his teeth as he worked the blanket over her body. She shifted in her sleep and Riley paused, caught his breath. But when she resettled, he tucked the blanket around behind her, so she was cocooned inside the cotton and flannel.