Page 8 of Cold and Bitter Snow

When she started sobbing, it felt like a punch against his solar plexus.

“S—stop, please. You’re hurting me,” she begged.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “We have to do this, then I’ll get you into some warm clothing.”

He checked the dial again, confirming the water was just warm rather than hot, as his frozen hands were unable to tell the difference. Then he lifted her, bringing her under the spray. The warm water burned his hands and he could see from her pained expression that it was hurting her too. Her eyes were scrunched together and her mouth was a tight line.

“I’m sorry,” he said again. He hadn’t felt this close to crying in a long time. He ran his hands up and down her arms while the water dripped onto her.

Blood mixed in with the water, turning the white floor pink. He turned her around gently to get every bit of her under the spray while checking her body for injuries. It seemed like it was all coming from his knuckles and palms. They looked like he’d been in a fight with someone much tougher.

After a few minutes she opened her eyes. She seemed slightly more alert than before.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He kept rubbing her arms gently, letting the warm water do its job. Eventually her expression eased, and she actually arched into the spray. He held back a groan.

“Get in here with me,” she breathed. “You must be half-frozen as well.”

He barked out a small laugh. “Sounds like quite the invitation,” he drawled.

She looked pissed off at his attempt at humor. That was fine with him—much better than her previous listlessness.

“How are you feeling? I’m going to let go of you for a second and go grab a towel. Think you can stand on your own for a minute?”

She shook her head. “I’m not sure my legs can hold me. I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay. You’re doing great. Let’s get you down to a sitting position. I’ll be right back. Just promise you’ll stay awake, okay?”

He didn’t want to leave her alone for long, so he raced out of the bathroom to the lockers outside, feeling thankful that this was Switzerland and nothing was ever locked. He ignored his own locker and reached for Luc’s locker instead. His friend was slimmer so it might be easier to find something that fit her. He brought out a pair of sweatpants, an old, ripped t-shirt, a black hooded sweatshirt, thick woolen socks, and trainers with brand-new soles. There was nothing he could do about the underwear—she was going to have to go commando.

From another locker he grabbed all the towels he could see and rushed back to the bathroom.

He was relieved to find her in the same position he’d left her in. She was flexing her hands purposefully, opening and closing the fingers.

“I found you some dry clothes,” he said.

She nodded but made no move to stand. He reached over and lifted her to a standing position, ignoring the pain in his shoulder.

“I won’t let you fall,” he promised.

“I know,” she said, and her hazel eyes were serious as she stared straight into his. He felt the pull of something between pain and pleasure, and this time it had nothing to do with his shoulder.

“We need to take these off before putting on dry clothes,” he said, pointing to her bra and underwear. “Is that okay?”

He waited for her nod and then spun her body around to give her some semblance of privacy as he helped her out of her underwear and bra.

As soon as she was naked, he brought out one of the towels, which was more like a bath sheet when draped over her body. He rubbed her back and arms gently, not wanting to hurt her. He looked at her face to see how she was doing, and her expression was one of pure pleasure. He sat her down on the toilet and grabbed the second towel, kneeling by her feet to help dry her legs.

Even though the towel covered everything, the thought of how close he was to her made his heart beat faster. He stood up abruptly.

Get your mind out of the gutter.

He picked up the pile of clothing he’d found in the locker.

“I’m not sure it’s going to fit,” he said. “But at least it’ll be dry.” He helped her pull on the woolen socks and the tracksuit pants. They were too big on her so he rolled them up and cinched up the waist as far as it would go. She held on tight to the towel around her upper half.

“I can put the top on,” she said.