Dawn's Path: Completed Work

"Holy mother of...! Son of a bitch! Shit! Shit! Shit! Fucking cold!" Lance bellowed at the top of his lungs. Limbs flailing, he struggled to stay afloat. His body jerked uncontrollably from the cold contorting his limbs. Sputtering, he choked on the water he splashed into his own mouth as he scrabbled to keep his head above the surface. "Damn!" he wailed. He thought he knew how cold, cold could be. Until now, naked as the day he was born, practically drowning in a lake in the middle of March, he had no frigging clue what the true definition of cold was.

As annoyed as Angel was at the invasion of her peace, she couldn't help but laugh at Lance's reaction to the cold. She had no idea he knew so many explicative terms or so many creative ways to link them together in a singular sentence. Angel snorted as Lance's lips faded from their normal hue to a strange shade of blue-gray and his teeth chattered. "Too cold for you?"

"Damn cold," he huffed. Angel snickered as he glared at a chunk of ice floating past him. Even freezing with every survival instinct he had bucking against the insanity of staying in the water, he couldn't help but lose himself in her. God, she was beautiful when she smiled. He'd never heard her laugh, genuinely laugh, before. It was the most musical, joyous, carefree sound he'd ever had the pleasure of hearing. He'd gladly jump into the water and make a complete fool of himself all over again just to hear her laugh once more.

Angel bobbed in the water, gently paddling in circles around him. "I think the water is perfect." She ducked her head under the water and swam. Bumping his leg, she wrapped her hand around his ankle and gave it a sharp tug, dragging him under. He kicked wildly, freeing his ankle from her grip and bellowed, sputtering curse words that even she didn't know the definitions of, as he broke the surface.

Stifling a giggle, that was way too girlie sounding, Angel floated on her back. Until she realized he was staring at her. Not exactly at her per se, but at her breasts. The thin scrap of fabric loosely called a bra clung to her erect nipples and left nothing to the imagination. Irritated, she wanted to poke his eyes out for taking visual liberties with her personage. But, she was as flattered as she was annoyed. Besides, it wasn't like he could actually get it up. The cold took care of that quite nicely. Yeah, the fact that he was naked wasn't lost on her. Poor guy had testicles the size of raisinettes from his swim. And thanks to shrinkage, his outtie was an innie. Not his fault. But, funny as hell, given his reputation as a player.

Ducking into the water up to her chin, she noticed his trembling bottom lip and the scowl spread across his face. "Oh, come on." She dogpaddled to the wooden ladder and wrapped her hands around the lowest rung. "You shrink up any smaller and it's the ladies room for you from now on." She glanced over her shoulder and winked at him as she grinned.

"No shit," he agreed. Lance blew out a breath of sheer longing as he watched Angel climb up the ladder. Her wet panties clung to every crevice of her ass, obscenely highlighting even the slightest detail. Evidentially, he had been a little premature on agreeing with her in declaring his penis as MIA. Apparently, his erection didn't seem to mind the cold nearly as much as he did. Great. He was naked, freezing, and hard as hell without any possible way to hide it. Groaning he paused on the top rung of the ladder. "Do you mind?"

"What?" Angel asked. She stood on one leg, gaping at him in disbelief. Lance had seen her practically naked and he wanted her to turn her back? Soaking wet, she grappled to pull her jeans over her thighs. She scoffed at the insult that he actually believed she'd get any kind of thrill from seeing him naked. "I've seen a penis before."

"But, it wasn't mine," Lance said innocently. To his surprise, Angel turned her back, completely ignoring him as she wiggled and shimmied, trying to work her jeans over her hips. He bit back a curse at the cold and the sight of her bent at the waist, hips undulating as she battled with the denim. Luckily though, the slap of frigid air against his wet skin thoroughly cured his wayward penis problems. Poor guy would never be the same and he'd probably never come out of hiding.

Particles of fresh snow wafted down from the black sky and landed on the tips of his eyelashes. The wind picked up speed and rattled the trees. It was going to be a long, miserable walk back to the compound. Lance scrabbled for his clothes and covered his dangly bits with his wadded up leathers while dragging his jacket over his damp shoulders. The leather was uncomfortably cold and stiff from where it had laid on the ground.

He eyed the cabin. The brothers always had firewood on the grate ready to be lit. There were piles of soft, warm blankets inside. And it was private. He ground his fangs at the thought of Angel naked under one of Leigh's handmade quilts. Naked. Alone. With Angel cozied up beside him in front of a roaring fire. Good. No bad. He just wanted the chance to get to know her better, not screw her. Although...screwing wasn't a bad thought either. Drawing on his acting skills, he cast an expression so pitiful and pathetic on his face, like that of a whipped puppy. Not even she would be able to refuse. "C...c...cold...inside...please," he wheezed. "Ffffff...reezing."

Angel had given up on attempting to pull on her clothes over her wet skin. She wasn't sure but she thought ice crystals dangled from the ends of her hair. Lance...God, had there ever been a more pitiful sight than him? Mostly naked, wearing nothing but his jacket and a frown, he shivered from head to toe. His fingers clutched a rumpled pair of leathers to his groin. Ok, so she was curious about his current level of shrinkage. But, she appreciated his gesture. Every muscle on him bugled from the effort of generating body heat. His pale hair was plastered to his scalp and stiff with frost. And his face, he had the most pathetic, sad puppy dog expression she'd ever seen in her life.

It was cold. And the compound was a long walk. The snow fell faster coating the ground in a soft blanket of white. Snowflakes dangled from the ends of his hair and clung to the tip of his nose. She would love to ask him whatever had possessed him to jump into a freezing lake. But, if she did, no doubt she'd have to come up with some answers of her own. The cabin was a dark, forlorn place in the middle of nowhere. It was probably just as cold in there as it was out here. At least, the cabin would provide some shelter till the snow stopped falling. And maybe, they'd get lucky enough to find some dry clothes stashed inside. "We don't have a key."

Lance saw the doubt and hesitation in Angel's eyes. Nervously, she bit her bottom lip in uncertainty. A habit he thought was absolutely adorable. She wasn't buying his act for a minute. And he'd end up tromping through the woods hard and aching, half frozen, and worst of all, alone. "Under the mat," he rasped gesturing with his chin toward the front porch. Pouring a bit more into his performance, he coughed and groaned, chattering his teeth as he shook from head to toe.

Under the mat? Really? Who did that? Angel rolled her eyes at the rampant stupidity of the brothers. They might as well not bother locking the door at all. Shaking her head at him, she stormed up the walk toward the cabin. Bending to feel under the mat frozen in place to the wooden planks of the front porch, the key was exactly where he said it was. Angel scraped her nails against the ice and pried the key free.

Lance grinned as Angel palmed the key and stood to slide it into the lock. He was already imagining a toasty warm roaring fire and a soft blanket with nobody else but the two of them. They'd be stuck here for hours while their clothes dried in font of the fireplace. Either that, or he'd be wearing an old pair of John Mark's Bermuda shorts home. "So cold...I can't stand it," he groaned. Leaning against the porch post, he whimpered piteously.

Lance was making her nervous. Her fingers trembled with frustration. He was crowding her space. Looming over her. And breathing down the back of her neck. She finally managed to wiggle the key into the lock and open the door. She reached behind her and towed Lance inside slamming the door behind him. Her suspicions were correct. It was just as cold in here as it was outside. For her, it was worse inside than outside. The cabin was small and close. So dark, thanks to the shutters closed over the windows even with her superior night vision, she had difficulty seeing. Panic settled in clouding her judgment. Slowly, she backed toward the door, her fingers settling over the knob.

He was losing her. What did she think he was some kind of a rapist? He would not lay a finger on her, not that the thought wasn't in his mind. But, never like that, out of force. He mainly wanted to talk. Get into that psyche of hers and figure her out. "There's a flashlight on the mantle and some matches. Make a fire...get warm," he gritted out between his chattering fangs.

Angel's eyes widened as she spotted the flashlight. "Oh," she mumbled in embarrassment. She was a damned vampire, not a scared little girl afraid of the dark. Fumbling with the flashlight she managed to turn it on and find the box of matches on the mantle. Exactly what did he want her to do? She was not a frigging girl scout. She had no idea of how to start a fire. "Um?"

Lance groaned, inwardly grimacing at the way Angel toyed with the box of matches. He really was going to freeze to death. She showed no outward signs that the cold affected her at all. The very least she could do was manage a decent shiver or two. Maybe, a tooth chatter for good measure. "Fire is ready to go, just light a match and put it to the kindling. And for crying out loud, hurry."

Angel didn't appreciate Lance's tone. He could just save her the trouble and light the fire himself. But, in order to do that he'd have to drop the clothes clutched so protectively to his groin. But, if he did that, he'd most likely embarrass them both. She flicked off the flashlight and set the box of matches on the mantle. It wasn't like he was going to freeze to death. If it had been that easy to kill Roark she would have done it herself.

"Angel, please. I'm freezing. I'd do it myself, but my fingers are so stiff and I'm shaking all over. Just catch the newspaper under the logs on fire with the match. Please." Was Angel part polar bear or what? Standing there, clad in nothing but her damp jeans and a bra, she stared at him incredulously. She had to be just as cold as he was. But, it was almost like she relished the painful chill in the air. He hazarded a glance at his toes and counted. Yup, he still had all ten of them. But, if she didn't step it up, he might not. "Please, please, please."

Maybe it was the last please, practically whimpered from Lance's lips that softened her to him. She flicked the flashlight on and crouched at the fireplace. There was what she assumed was firewood and kindling on the grate. Wadded up rolls of newspaper were stuck at odd angles here and there. She glared up at Lance and bent her head to study the box of matches. There was no way in hell she was going to admit she'd never lit a match before. Awkwardly balancing the box in her palm, she took out a match and dragged it across the cover. Of course, it didn't light. Hadn't these people heard of Bic lighters for god's sake?

"Try again," Lance said.

Angel hesitated and turned her attention back to the matches. It couldn't be that difficult. On the second attempt, the match flared to life. Quickly, before the flame could burn out, she dropped the lit match onto the newspaper. Watching in fascination as the paper burned and caught the dry wood stacked on the grate on fire.

"Thank God," Lance said, breathing out a grateful sigh of relief. Careful not to show his man junk, he knelt beside her to warm his hands at the fire's meager flame. It would take a few minutes before they had a decent fire and actual heat. He caught her eyeing him out of the corner of his eye in suspicion. "You did good. Thank you."

"Are you ok?" Angel asked out of concern. Her meager attempt at a fire wasn't much. But, it was burning and the cabin was starting to get a few degrees warmer. The ice crystals from his hair melted and rolled in tiny rivulets down his neck. Timidly, she reached out a fingertip to wipe them away. The firelight glistened in the drops of moisture on his cheek. He crouched next to her, concentrating on warming his frozen hands.

Angel became very aware of how close to naked he was and the closeness of him. She tried to put it out of her mind, the bareness of his flesh, the pitch and roll of his muscles as they quivered, and the way his wet hair clung to his hard jaw. Even his scent, fresh and spicy as it blended with the wood smoke and the lingering essence of lost summers past, was a temptation and terrifying.

"Better," Lance answered, rubbing his hands together to generate more heat and thaw his frozen skin. "My clothes are soaked from the snow. So are yours. We'll have to dry them by the fire. Once it really gets going. There are some blankets over there on the bed. Somehow, I feel a little exposed," he said, glancing down at his bare thighs and the heap of wet clothes gathered in his lap and back up to her.

Angel glanced down at her own state of undress. Wearing nothing but her wet bra, which clung to her erect nipples and a pair of jeans equally soaked and stuck to her like a second skin, she blushed furiously. She swore the room was suddenly a balmy ninety degrees from the heat in his stare alone. "Oh," she mumbled. Forcing her gaze from his bare muscular chest, she saw what he meant. She wasn't the only one tempted. They were both practically naked, alone in an isolated cabin in the middle of nowhere. He had a point. "We're not going to think of each other like that. Its just skin," she said as she self-consciously rose to her feet and went to grab the blankets.

"Ok." Lance bit back a chuckle at Angel's chagrin. Just skin? Right. Not think of her like that? How was he supposed to do that when her skin was all he could think about? He focused on the flickering flames instead of the sound of her zipper and the rustle of cloth as she peeled off her damp jeans and stepped free of them. The whisper of wet silk against her 'just skin' as she removed her bra and panties was torture.

He exhaled and bit the inside of his cheek to keep his imagination from going wild with rampant thoughts of her naked. He was so hard for her it hurt. Adjusting the pile covering his groin, he hid what she did to him from her sight. Despite what she had to tell herself to trust him enough to get naked and his shrinkage from the cold, he had it where it counted in abundance. Painfully so. She'd bolt and he knew it. He couldn't afford to undo the fragile trust she had in him by exposing how deeply her nearness effected him.

Angel had to tell herself all kinds of lies to manage the courage to peel off her clothes and wrap up in the quilt she'd pulled off the end of the bed. The quilt, made from bits and pieces of fabric was soft and cool against her skin. Smelling of bright sunny days and crisp fall nights, the scent of the blanket reminded her of the home and the happy family she'd never had. Lance would not hurt her. He would never force her to do anything she didn't want to do. She knew that. Imaging him with the world's tiniest penis was a trick of her mind. It wasn't true. She'd caught enough of a glimpse of him to know better than that. If she were a different woman, whole and free, she might be able to appreciate how gifted he was in that department. As it was, she was terrified to endure a simple touch without the fear of her mind taking her back to places she didn't want to go.

Emerging from behind the screen wrapped in nothing but a blanket, clutched tightly in her fist, Angel evaded Lance's stare as she worked to drape her clothes over the mantle. After she'd finished arranging her clothes to dry, she handed him a folded blanket and forced her eyes away from his. He thanked her and shrugged out of his jacket. Draping the colorful afghan over his muscular body, he tugged the wad of wet leather and cloth from underneath and stretched it on the hearth to dry.

She was painfully aware that Lance was as naked underneath his blanket as she was under hers. Lance settled back on the floor, resting his arm casually across his bent knee. Tilting his head, he studied her expression. Angel curled up, tucking her feet underneath her butt as she sat on the floor next to him to share the warmth from the fireplace. She toyed with the braided rug on the floor. Focusing on the rainbow of colors and the feel of the different textures against her fingertips. The rug was incredibly soft. "It's only skin," she whispered.

"Exactly," Lance replied. He didn't believe it was only skin. He didn't believe that she believed that either. He kept his distance, sitting on the border of the rug, watching her delicate fingertips skate over the colors and textures. Ducking his head to meet her gaze, he said what she needed to hear and what he needed to say to earn her trust. He was not Roark. He would never take advantage of her. Hurt her in any way. And he would never touch her without her permission. He meant the words as he said them with the sincerity of a promise. "It is only skin."

Chapter 7

Lance had one endearing quality above all others. It was the thing Angel appreciated the most about him. He never filled the empty spaces with small talk. Around him, she never had to be...anything except herself. Sitting on the braded rug with her knees tucked under her chin and the warmth of the fire caressing her cheeks. Being with him was easy. "I wasn't expecting an audience," she mumbled.

Lance barked in a chuckle. Angel was slowly coming around, shyly inching closer to him. She probably didn't realize only a few scant centimeters and two blankets were all that separated them. And he sure as hell wasn't about to point it out. He sat on the floor, letting the warmth of the fire and of her presence soak into his skin. Stretching out his long legs, his toes poked out from beneath the blanket. Idly, he wiggled his toes and sighed in contentment. "I wasn't exactly expecting to go skinny dipping in the middle of March either," he teased. He shivered over exaggeratedly. "I don't think I've ever been so cold."

Angel snickered at his playful shivering. "You're such a wimp," she chastised. "It wasn't that cold." The laugh she'd bit back escaped her lips as he pinned her with a raised dark brow, contradicting her perception of cold. Shifting beneath the covers, she scooted closer, and sat with her toes tucked firmly under her butt, facing him. "Ok, so it was a little chilly," she conceded with a shrug.

"A little?" Lance tsked. He shivered and tugged his blanket up underneath his chin to prove his point. Lance was careful to hide certain things from Angel. Primarily, the obviousness of his erection poking up, like a damned flagpole beneath the covers. With the way Angel looked everywhere but at him, it wasn't that hard to camouflage his interest in her. 'You don't have to answer me. But, can I ask what you were doing out there?"

Um no, not really, she countered, keeping her thoughts to herself. How would she ever explain the need that had driven her into the freezing water? Toying with the edge of the hand-sewn quilt, she refused to meet his eyes to prevent him from seeing the truth in them. She had no answer for his question that wouldn't condemn herself and most likely end up with a trip to the brotherhood's version of a shrink. To throw him off, she shrugged nonchalantly. "I'd rather not say."