Cabin Fever by Alisha Rai Page A

her hair behind her ear in a blatantly possessive move. She’d gotten so used to his touch over the past couple of days, it no longer shocked her, though a thrill coursed through her limbs when he drew one finger down her cheek. The calluses rasped against her skin, and he captured her chin in his fingers. He held her trapped there, looking into her eyes.
    And just that easily, the world was reduced to the two of them. While they were bantering and chatting, she’d try to convince herself that their physical chemistry was all a part of her imagination, but a touch, a look, and she was ready to melt again. “What would help?”
    Alex tugged her closer, his breath fanning over her lips. Her nipples tightened, a response she was well accustomed to by now. “A bath. I would love a bath.”
    She cleared her throat and escaped his grasp. “That’s tough.” Her voice was rough, and she cleared her throat again. “I don’t have a bathtub.”
    Alex raised his eyebrows. “I don’t think I’ve ever met a woman without a bathtub.”
    “I have a perfectly fine shower,” she said defensively.
    “Yeah, but”—Alex shook his head, a bemused expression on his face—“wouldn’t you love to lounge in a bath of hot water every now and again? Most women I’ve known would rather die than be separated from their bath salts.”
    Oh, yeah, to linger in a bath of steaming hot water filled with sweet-smelling salts while Alex massaged foaming shampoo through the strands of her hair. Genevieve caught the whimper of longing before it rose from her throat. No, she was no different from most women. But her mother had been a no-nonsense woman who never encouraged the slightest bit of hedonistic behavior, and since her death Genevieve hadn’t seen the point in installing a bathtub just for herself.
    But oh, how she wished she had, for the pleasure of imagining Alex in it. To feel like a normal woman with a normal life.
    She shook her head to disguise her longing. “That’s pretty silly,” she said briskly, gathering the shaving supplies up. “There are far more important things to die for than bath salts.”
    Alex’s gaze sharpened. “Maybe you can tell me some of those things.” He held up a hand. “In the meantime, shower?”
    “One more day…”
    “Genevieve, please. I’m feeling pretty grungy. I want to get clean. And I know I can make it. I can’t lie here forever.”
    Genevieve’s first instinct was to deny his claim, but then she studied him closely. His color was up, and he sat a lot easier now than he had at first. Part of his motivation was no doubt the desire to get away from the dreaded bedpan and her assistance with things like brushing his teeth, but he probably could make it on his own.
    She felt equal amounts of satisfaction and sadness. The quicker he healed, the faster he would walk out of her life. He was fun and funny, and he had slipped right under her guard. “Okay, you win. Let’s give it a try. Here, let me take off your bandage first.”
    She peeled it off him, pleased to see the wound’s edges coming together nicely. The various scratches and bruises were almost nonexistent now, the bump on his head slightly visible. If she didn’t know better, she would have sworn he’d been convalescing for a few weeks.
    “What are you thinking?”
    “That I’m pretty freakin’ awesome.”
    He laughed and tested his arm’s health with a slight rotation. “I’ll second that. Now, scoot, I’m going to see if your awesomeness extends to my being able to walk.”
    With a minimum of assistance, he pushed his body off the bed and stood. When he was upright, his chest and legs did all sorts of muscular things that didn’t happen prone. “I need to find you some clothes.”
    “It’s so warm in here, I’d think you could walk around naked in the dead of winter and not feel a thing.”
    Nice thought. “My mom made sure the cabin was well-insulated.”
    He staggered a bit before he straightened and raised