Free Two Alone by Sandra Brown

single rib. His stomach w as flat and tight as a drum. She couldn't see his navel very well . It was deeply ne stled in a sexy tuft of hair. " Get started, Rusty, or I'll do it for you."
    H is threat plucked her out of her trance. Mechanically, she pee led off her sweater. Beneath it she was wearing a cotton tur tle neck much like his. She fiddled with the hem while she watch ed him stand up and work his jeans down his legs. The long j ohns weren't the most alluring sight she'd ever seen.
    But Cooper Landry unclothed had to be.
    In seconds he was standing there, silhouetted against the dim glow of the fire, stark naked. He was beautifully shaped and generously endowed—so marv e lously made that she couldn't help her gaping stare. He quite literally took her breath away.
    He draped the articles of discarded clothing on the bush, then pulled a pair of socks over his hands and ran them over his body, drying it thoroughly—everything—before removing t he socks from his hands.
    Kneeling, he tore into one of the backpacks looking for underwear. He pulled on a pair of briefs, all with a supreme lack of self-consciousness, much less modesty.
    When he turned toward her and noticed that she hadn't moved, he frowned with irritation. "Come on, Rusty. Hurry up. It's damn cold out here."
    He reached for her sweater, which, so far, was the only thing she'd taken off. She handed it to him and he hung it up to dry. Holding out his hand for more clothes, he snapped his fingers quickly and repeatedly to hurry her along. "Come on, come on." Casting one anxious glance up at him, she pulled the T-shirt over her head and passed it to him.
    The cold air was a breathtaking shock to her system. Immediately she was chilled and started trembling so violently she couldn't handle the button on her one-legged trousers.
    "Here, let me do that, dammit. Or I'll be standing out here all night." Cooper dropped to his knees and straddled her thighs. Impatiently he pushed her hands out of the way so he could unfasten the button and p ul l down the zipper. With a detached air he eased the trousers do wn her legs and tossed them hap h az ard l y toward the nearest bush.
    But he was brought up short by what he obviously hadn't ex p ect ed. A pair of extremely feminine, extremely scanty bikini pan ties. He'd seen the lace-edged leg, but that was all. For what seem ed like an eternity, he stared at them before saying gruffly, " T ake them o ff." Rusty shook her head. "No." His face became fierce. "Take them off." Rusty shook her head emph a t ically. Before she could brace herself for it, he pressed his ope n hand directly over the triangular scrap of silk and lace. " Th ey're wet. Take them off." T heir eyes, like their wills, clashed, It was as much the chill in his stare as the chill in the air that prompted Rusty to slide t he damp garment down her legs. "Now dry off."
    He handed her a cotton sock like t he ones he'd used. She ran it over her lower body and her legs. Keeping her head bowed, sh e groped blindly for the underwear Cooper handed her. He had n't chosen long j ohns because they c ould chafe her injury, s he pulled on a pair of panties similar to the ones she'd just taken oil and which were now dangling from the lower branches of the bush, fluttering like a victory banner the morning after a fra terni ty beer bust.
"Now the top."
    H er brassiere was just as f rivolous as the panties that mat ched them. The morning she left the lodge, she had dressed in clothes befitting her return to civilization. After having to wear thermal underwear for several days, she had been good and sick of it.
    Leaning forward, she grappled with the hook at her back, bin her fingers were so numb from the cold she couldn't get it open. Muttering curses, Cooper reached around her and all b ut ripped the hook from its mooring. The brassiere fell forward. She peeled the straps down her arms, flung it away and faced him defiantly.
    Beneath his mustache, his mouth was set in a