Free Blank Slate by Tiffany Snow

to her, wrapped his hands around her waist, and set her on her feet. Shit!
She had no shoes on either. If he didn’t do something, she was going to be in
danger of frostbite.
    Without
asking permission, though he wasn’t sure she was in any condition to answer, he
scooped her in his arms. Going back to the SUV, he set her gently inside,
letting her face the open air.
    O’Connell
was still breathing too hard and too fast. Her eyes were squeezed tightly shut
and were wet, though Erik couldn’t tell if it was because she was crying or if
it was from the snow.
    Erik
felt powerless to help her. “Why didn’t you tell me you were claustrophobic?”
he asked, the words coming out sharper than he had intended.
    Her
eyes shot open, pinning him with an emerald glare. “Because I didn’t know,” she
said. “I can’t remember!” O’Connell’s frustrated shout echoed in the woods
around them. When she angrily dashed the back of her hand across her eyes, Erik
realized it wasn’t from the snow.
    Ignoring
a stab of guilt, Erik’s gaze shifted around uncomfortably before again coming
to rest on O’Connell. She was still glaring at him, but thankfully, her
breathing had regulated and her cheeks were no longer the stark white they’d
been previously.
    “We
need to get back inside,” Erik said gruffly. “We can’t survive out here.”
    Her
face fell, but she recovered quickly, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Just
give me a minute, Okay?” she asked, her tone grim.
    Erik
nodded, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans.
    Minutes
passed. It had stopped snowing for the moment, leaving the woods hushed and
quiet. The occasional tree branch creaking under the weight of the snow was the
only sound.
    The
storm had left a few inches of snow covering the windows of the SUV. Erik
figured that probably wouldn’t help her claustrophobia. Digging under the front
seat of the car, he produced a scraper and cleared the snow from the windshield
and the four windows.
    Dusting
the snow off his clothes, he stored the scraper again and rounded the car.
    “Any
better?” he asked. He didn’t want to rush her, but damn, he was freezing. And
she had to be, too. Taking a good look at her, he saw the unmistakable sign of
shivering.
    “I
think so,” O’Connell said, her teeth rattling. She slowly backed farther into
the car, leaving room for Erik to haul himself inside.
    Her
eyes were glued to the hatchback as he went to pull it closed, and he could
almost see the panic start again in the widening of her eyes and the
shallowness of her breath.
    “Hey,”
he said. When she didn’t respond, he repeated himself louder. “Hey!”
    O’Connell
jerked her gaze to his.
    “Don’t
look at it,” he said, pulling the door closed. “Just…look at me instead.”
    She
nodded but didn’t speak, her body wracked with shivers.
    “Your
clothes are wet,” Erik said, taking stock of the fabric with a few swipes of
his hands. “You need to change or you’ll get hypothermia.”
    Leaning
over the front seat, Erik started the car. They shouldn’t use the fuel for
this, but he had to get her warm. He’d leave it running for just a few minutes,
just enough to take the chill out of the air. Digging in her duffel, he pulled
out one of the few changes of clothing she had.
    “Put
this on,” he said, handing the items to her.
    O’Connell
pulled the sweater over her head, and Erik averted his eyes, not that there
were many other places to look. He couldn’t really blame her for getting
claustrophobic in here.
    “Can
you help me?” she asked, her voice shaky.
    Erik
turned, chagrined to see her still in just her jeans and bra, a feminine combination
he’d always appreciated. Tearing his gaze from the black lace cupping her
breasts, he saw the problem. Her hands were shaking too badly to undo her
jeans, though she was fumbling in a fruitless attempt to release the button. O’Connell
looked up at him, a pained expression on her