Desert Heat by D'Ann Lindun

her waist and put her weight
into the life or death struggle. He paddled her direction, making progress by
inches. The water fought them both, but by tiny increments, he came to the
shore.
    Finally
at the bank, he grabbed hold of the rope and crawled out. He fell face down and
choked, then spit out water. Mallory fell back on her rear, still holding the
rope taut. Her legs shook so hard she didn’t think she could ever walk again.
“Are you okay?”
    He
managed a nod. “Yeah.”
      “Thank God. I thought you were a goner.”
Forcing words out of her tight, raw throat was difficult.
      “You and me both.” He
coughed again.
    After
several deep breaths, her heartbeat began to slow. She moved to take the rope
off him and saw he shook from head to toe. Helping him roll to his back, she
untied the knot with numb fingers. “You’re freezing. You’ve got to get out of
those wet clothes.”
      “ There’s swim trunks
and a T-shirt in the back,” he said through chattering teeth.
      “Can you stand?”   She put her hands under his arms and tried to
help him up. He was too heavy. There was no budging him.
      “Not for a minute.” His lips were turning
blue.
      “You’ve got to get in the car.” She used her
meanest voice. One she used on students who didn’t turn in their papers on
time. “Now, get up. I mean it, Mike.”
    He
smiled a little although it obviously pained him to do so. “Okay.”
      With difficulty, he pushed to his knees. He
coughed again, but didn’t spit up any more liquid. She took that as a good
sign. Bending, she put one arm around her neck. It weighed on her like an oxen’s yoke. She didn’t care. Somehow she had to get him
inside the car and into heat before hypothermia set in. She tugged, he lunged.
Together, they got him on his feet.
    He
swayed and she wrapped her arms around him to steady him. “No, you don’t.”
    Taking
careful baby steps, she guided him to the back of the SUV. He sat on the
tailgate with a thud. “I feel awful.”
      “No wonder. You swallowed half of Arizona’s
water,” she said. “We’ve got to get you dry before you catch pneumonia.”
    Tremors
shook him.
    Mallory
climbed in the back of the Durango and rummaged around until she found a gym
bag and a rolled-up sleeping bag. She carried the items to the tailgate and
stepped out. “I found the dry clothes. Can you get in them, or do you need my
help?”
      “I can manage,” he said. His hands shook.
    She
wasn’t so sure. “I’ll step around to the other side of the car while you
dress.”
    He
nodded.
    Still
not certain he was going to be able to get out of his wet things, she moved
away. The rain clouds, drifting away, gathered for another round. She shivered.
If she was cold, she couldn’t imagine how Mike felt. “You dressed?”
      “Almost.”
    She
went around to the other side of the SUV. Mike had managed to get to his wet
things off, but not the dry clothes on. With his back to her, he stood in all
his naked male glory. Wide shoulders, slim hips, long muscled
legs. And an ass to die for. She swallowed. Hard. “Let me help.”
    He
looked over his shoulder. “Please.”
    Keeping
her eyes firmly on his face, she tugged the T-shirt over his head and helped
him lift his arms into the sleeveless tank. It fell below his hips, covering
his genitals and relief and regret fought within her. She knelt and lifted his
icy, big man foot through the swim trunks. Then the other. Standing, she pulled the trunks up his frozen legs, thighs and over his hips. A
smile tugged at her mouth. She hadn’t ever pulled a man’s shorts this
direction.
    Her
face felt flushed but he didn’t look any warmer. “Come on. Get in front and
I’ll turn on the heater.”
    He
climbed in the front seat and she unrolled the sleeping bag and blankets and
tucked them around him, then got in the driver’s seat and started the engine.
In a few minutes hot air poured through the vents. His teeth chattered.
      “The