bristles on his hard jaw. “You feeling okay now, Princess?”
At her nod, he flung back the blankets, displaying a pair of long, muscled legs. A dusting of hair didn’t hide a wicked-looking scar on his left thigh. Her fascinated gaze traveled upward to the black Jockeys he wore...
And the very large bulge beneath them showing a blatant male reaction.
Seems as if Cooper Johnson was equally attracted to her.
Not that she’d do anything about it. Not in her lifetime.
His mouth curved into a knowing smile as he reached down to the floor, retrieved a pair of jeans. Cooper slid into them and stood, buckling the belt.
“Had to get you warm. Can’t help the consequences. I’m a guy, and you’re a very attractive woman.”
He shoved a hand through his thick hair and the move flexed the biceps of his right arm. A tattoo of a snake writhed with the motion as well. Sailors got inked, from what she knew. And he was a Navy SEAL.
Not regular Army, like her brother had been.
SEALs were tough, Lacey had told her, but their missions and lives were shrouded in secrecy. She wondered what happened to him that he was here now with her.
It wasn’t her business. She released Sophie and held out her hand. “Thank you for rescuing us, Mr. Johnson. And my name is Meg.”
Surprise flickered across his face as he sat on the bed. “Cooper.”
His grip was firm, but not crushing, and he quickly released her hand. Then as he started to reach for her, Sophie growled.
Meg gripped her dog. As his gaze landed on her bruised arm, she flinched.
Cooper’s gaze narrowed as he muttered a low oath. “Is that what your husband did to you? Jarrett said you were in trouble, but he didn’t give details.”
“Ex-husband. Soon, anyway. I keep calling him my ex because I’ve x-ed him out of my life.” Meg felt her flush deepen, this time from shame. “It wasn’t that bad, this time.”
“This time is the last time,” he said in a low, deep voice that sent a shiver racing down her spine.
His expression turned intent. Totally concentrated and fierce, as if someone had flipped a switch inside him. She shivered. One would not want to cross him.
“I’m sure you have a story to tell me. Like why you’re driving. Why didn’t you take Jarrett’s offer of a bus ticket here?”
Keen, assessing. Little would escape this man.
“Too slow. I needed my own wheels. And I knew my ex would be able to trace my car, so I bought an older model for cash for the drive here from Palm Beach.”
Two nights in cheap motels, trying to sleep, fearing to shut her eyes in case Prescott had sent someone after her...
“Why did you buy such a lemon?”
Meg struggled with her pride. How ironic that she was once the heiress of Taylor Sporting Goods, one of the country’s largest producers of sports equipment, and she didn’t have a penny.
“I know it sounds implausible, but it’s all I could afford. My ex controlled all the money in our household, and all my accounts.”
She’d managed to save a little money and hide it. And she didn’t dare use her easily traceable credit cards.
Silence fell between them as he gave a pointed look to the diamond encased in an old-fashioned gold setting hanging from her neck. Meg fingered the necklace. “This was my grandmother’s. I suppose you deserve an explanation, since you’re kind enough to give me a place to stay.”
He rubbed the sexy dusting of dark bristles on his chin. “Let’s wait until you’re ready. Know this, Meg. We’ve had dogs on the farm before and mostly they stay outside. Your dog...”
At this pause, she tensed, ready for him to tell her he didn’t tolerate dogs who bit and he was going to toss Sophie outside, no matter that it was freezing. Prescott surely would have.
“She’s safe here, just as you are. I don’t tolerate abuse. Anyone who hits women, children or animals—” his hard blue gaze flickered to Sophie “—even animals who growl at them, will be strictly dealt with. You can relax. No one will get you here.”
Relief swept through her. “You’re not going to make Sophie stay outside?”
He lifted a dark brow. “In this storm? Relax, she’ll stay here with you. I only want one question answered.”
She tensed.
“Your last name. Need to know that in case anyone comes asking.”
His words sent a shiver of fear sliding through her again. Prescott knew people. Lots of people across the country. “Meg... Caldwell,” she said, giving her brother’s first name.
Cooper nodded. “Good. I’ll let my mom know. She runs the bed and breakfast at our farmhouse.”
Doubt filled her. “Is it really safe here? My ex has a lot of money and influence.”
“And I have a nine-millimeter and plenty of ammo.”
His reassurances should have made her feel safe, but they only made her aware of what kind of danger she placed this man and his family in. She couldn’t stay long. Just long enough to recover, figure out a plan and then move on.
Then Meg remembered her suitcase and all her most precious belongings were in the car. She had to retrieve them, snowstorm or no snowstorm. Anyone could find her things and know who they belonged to. One call to Prescott and he’d be here in the corporate jet. Her chest hurt and her heart constricted painfully and she found it hard to breathe.
“My things... I have to get my luggage. The quilt in the car, it’s an heirloom.”
As her voice rose, he remained calm. Steady. Not ruffled one bit at the hysteria in her voice. “Easy, Princess.” He pointed to the closet. “Everything from the car is in there. This is your room for the night. I put your cell in the kitchen on a charger. Your car is dead. I’ll have Mike, the local tow truck driver, haul it to his shop and fix it.”
“Thank you.” She released a deep breath. “If I had someplace else to go, I would have. I don’t plan to stay.”
That deep blue gaze burned into her. “What about your family?”
Familiar hurt squeezed a tight knot in her chest. “I don’t have any. My father died in a car crash shortly after my parents’ divorce.”
“And your mother?”
She gave a bitter laugh. “She went to Europe to be with her lover after Dad’s funeral. I haven’t seen her since.”
“No brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles?” Cooper gave her a disbelieving look.
“One brother. He was killed in Iraq shortly after he enlisted in the Army.”
“I’m sorry.” His tone softened. “What unit?”
“Does it matter? He’s dead.” Meg’s chest tightened, making it hard to breathe. Caldwell’s reckless disregard for safety while in combat was the reason she wanted to manufacture body armor for soldiers. She thought of her older brother’s bright, cheerful grin and how he’d always let her tag along, always promised to be there to keep her safe and happy because their parents didn’t care about them...
Caldwell broke that promise the day he enlisted.
“No aunts or uncles?”
“No. I was raised by my grandmother, and her funeral was a week ago.” She lifted her chin and gave him the impervious stare used when it was necessary to keep others at bay. “Are you finished with the interrogation yet?”
He gazed around the bedroom. “You and my