Now Pepper and I will both drown. Freaking perfect.
Something grabbed her arm, and she reflexively fought against it, sucking in another mouthful of salty water as she broke through the surface, arms flailing, choking, and pushing against the powerful hand that yanked her to her feet.
“You okay?” A deep, annoyed voice carried over the din of the crashing waves.
Cough. Cough. “Yeah. I—” Cough. Cough. “My dog.” She blinked and blinked, trying to clear the saltwater and rain from her eyes. The man’s mop of wet, dark hair came into focus. He held tightly to her arm while scanning the water in the direction of where she’d last seen Pepper. His clothes stuck to his body like a second skin, riding the ripples of his impressive chest and arms as he held her above the surface with one arm around her ribs.
“Come on.” She coughed as he plowed through the pounding surf with her clutched against his side. She slid down his body, and he lifted her easily into his arms, carrying her like he might carry a child, pressing her to his chest as he fought against the waves.
She pushed against his chest, feeling ridiculous and helpless…and maybe a little thankful, but she was ignoring that emotion in order to save Pepper.
“My dog! I need to get my dog!” she hollered.
Mr. Big, Tall, and Stoic didn’t say a word. He set her on the wet sand and tossed her a rain-soaked towel. “It was dry.” He pointed behind her to a wooden staircase. “Go up to the deck.”
She dropped the towel and plowed past him toward the water. “I gotta get my dog.”
He snagged her by the arm and glared at her with the brightest blue eyes she’d ever seen—and a stare so dark she swallowed her voice.
“Go.” He pointed to the stairs again. “I’ll get your dog.” He took a step toward the water, and she pushed past him again.
“You don’t have t—”
He scooped her into his arms again and carried her to the stairs. “If you fight me, your dog will drown. He won’t last in this much longer.”
She pushed at his chest again. “Let me go!”
He set her down on the stairs. “The waves will pull you under. I’ll get your dog. Please stay here.”
Her heart thundered against her ribs as she watched him stalk off and plow through the waves as if he were indestructible. She stood in the rain on the bottom stair, huddled beneath the wet towel, squinting to see him through the driving rain. She finally spotted him deep in the sea, wrapping his arms around Pepper—the dog who never let anyone carry him. He rounded his shoulders, shielding Pepper as he made his way back through the wild waves.
She ran to the edge of the water, shivering, tears in her eyes. “Thank you!” She reached for Pepper and the dog whined, pressing his trembling body closer to the guy.
“You have a leash?”
She shook her head. Her wet hair whipped across her cheek, and she turned her back to the wind. “He doesn’t like them.”
He took her by the arm again. “Come on.” He led her up the stairs to a wooden deck, opened a French door, and leaned in close, talking over the sheeting rain.
“Go on in.”
She stepped onto pristine hardwood. The warm cottage smelled of coffee and something sweet and masculine, like a campfire. She reached for Pepper. Pepper whined again and pressed against the man’s chest.
“He…” Her teeth chattered from the cold. “He must be scared.”
“I’ll get you a towel.” He eyed the dog in his arms and shook his head before disappearing up a stairwell.
Leanna scoped out the open floor plan of the cozy cottage, looking for signs of crazy. How crazy could he be? He’d just rescued her and Pepper, and Pepper already seemed to be quite attached to him. He went into the water in a storm without an ounce of fear. The man was crazy. It dawned on her that she’d done the same thing, but she knew she wasn’t crazy. She’d had no choice. To her right was a small kitchen with expensive-looking light wood cabinets and fancy molding. A laptop sat open beside two neatly stacked notebooks on the shiny marble countertop. The screen was dark, and she had an urge to touch a button and bring the laptop to life, but she didn’t really want to know if there was something awful on there. He could have been watching porn, for all she knew, although he hadn’t checked her out once, even with her wet T-shirt and shorter-than-short cut offs. She couldn’t decide if that was gentlemanly or creepy.
She shifted her thoughts away from the computer to the quaint breakfast nook to her left. Her eyes traveled past a little alcove with two closed doors and a set of stairs by the kitchen to the white-walled living room. There was not a speck of clutter anywhere. A pair of flip-flops sat by the front door, perfectly lined up against the wall beside a pair of running shoes. She located the source of the campfire smell. A gorgeous two-story stone fireplace covered most of the wall adjacent to an oversized brown couch. There was a small stack of firewood in a metal holder beside the hearth. The cottage was surprisingly warm considering there wasn’t a fire in the fireplace. Dark wood bookshelves ran the length of the far wall, from floor to ceiling, complete with a rolling ladder. The room was full of textures—a chenille blanket was folded neatly across the back of the couch, a thick, brown shag rug sat before the stone fireplace, and an intricately carved wooden table was placed before the couch. Leanna had a thing for textures, and right now she was texturing the beautiful hardwood with drops of water. She snagged a dishtowel from the kitchen counter as the man came back downstairs with Pepper cradled in his arms like a baby and wrapped in a big fluffy towel.
The possibility of him being crazy went out the door. Crazy people don’t carry dogs like babies.
He shifted Pepper to one arm and handed her a fresh towel. “Here. I’m Kurt, by the way.”
Pepper sat up in his arms, panting happily. Show-off.
“Thank you. I’m Leanna. That’s Pepper.” She tried to mop up the floor around her. Every swipe of the towel brought more drips from her sopping-wet clothing. “I’m sorry about this. For the mess. And my dog. And…” She frantically wiped the floor with the dishrag in one hand, using the fisted towel in the other to scrub her clothes, trying desperately to stop the river that ran from her clothes to his no-longer-pristine floor. She lifted her gaze. He had a slightly amused smile on his very handsome face. She rose to her feet with a defeated sigh.
“I’m so sorry, and thank you for rescuing Pepper.”
He glanced at his laptop, and that amused look quickly turned to pinched annoyance. His lips pressed into a tight line, and when he glanced at her again, it was with a brooding look, before stepping forward and closing his laptop.
“You should have”—Pepper barked in his ear; he closed his eyes and exhaled—“had the dog on a leash.”
The dog.
“He hates it. He hates listening, leashes, lots of things.” Pepper licked Kurt’s cheek. “Except you, I guess.”
Kurt winced and set Pepper on the floor. “Sit,” he said in a deep, stern voice.