Read Caveman for Free Online Page B

just in time to catch his eyes watching me and holding mine.
    “Thank you,” I whisper. I’m breathless again and I need to figure this shit out. I think it’s because I haven’t had sex in over eighteen months that I end up panting for a random man.
    He nods and looks away, focusing on my leg again. He checks the bandages and when his finger accidentally brushes my shin, I have to suppress a shudder.
    “Is it broken?” My voice is a little groggy and I clear my throat, feeling my face heating up.
    He keeps his eyes trained on the splint. “No,” he finally says. His voice is just above a whisper too but he doesn’t seem to care. And I definitely don’t. It’s sexy as hell.
    “Thank you,” I say again, searching for his eyes. “I’m Cassandra, by the way. Or Cassie as most people call me. I… I don’t know exactly what happened but I know you helped me, probably saved my life too. I don’t know what to say. Just… thank you.”
    He nods again and I think I see his throat moving as he swallows. Am I making him nervous? If we’re out here all alone, is it possible that he has absolutely no one? And if that’s the case, how long has it been since he last spoke to another person?
    He moves away from me and I have to clench my fists to keep from stopping him. I feel like I need him to be close. He goes over the table and takes something in his hands and turns back to me. It’s a metallic plate and there’s cooked meat in it.
    “Eat,” he says softly and moves to sit in the chair that he has placed in front of the fireplace.
    My stomach recognizes the smell of food and growls loudly. I’m not even embarrassed by that and I try to keep my manners in mind as I devour the meat. I don’t think he has much cooking equipment but it’s delicious. Or I’m that hungry. When I’m finished, I’m surprised and grateful to see him get up and refill my plate. I’m more civilized on my second filling and I try to study him.
    He has his elbows propped on his knees, leaning towards the fire. Unfortunately he’s back to wearing a shirt and his hair is loose, hanging around his face and shielding it. He is holding something small in one hand and a knife in the other and I wonder if he’s carving something. He seems so concentrated in what he’s doing and I want to go beside him and see what it is.
    As soon as I finish eating and I’m deliciously full, I start pushing myself up to clean my plate. I don’t see a sink but maybe there’s something outside I can use to wash it up? I’m not prepared for the sharp pain I feel on my ankle when I try to put some weight on it and I let out a startled yelp of pain. His head snaps around and he’s beside me in a flash.
    “Don’t,” he growls again and – oh, yep! There it is. The dangerous lilt in his voice that had me nearly panting before. Nearly? Did I say nearly? I’m pretty sure I’m panting right now. But I’ll blame it on the pain for argument’s sake.
    He grabs the plate from my hands and whirls around, headed outside. I hear a clanking sound and then he’s coming back inside and closing the door behind him. Did he just throw the plate on the porch?
    “Who are you?” I ask softly. “Where are we? What happened to the pilot?”
    He sighs and leans back on his chair. His fingers come up and slide through his hair as he sighs a second time. “Your plane crashed,” he responds with his deep voice. “The pilot didn’t make it. He was dead when I found you. I managed to get you out along with whatever bag I could grab before the plane was covered in flames.”
    I suck in a sharp breath. “Oh my God. He… he died because of me. Because I was in a hurry to go.”
    “He died because the plane crashed. That’s it. You weren’t the one to cause the crash. Now sleep.”
    “I… I…” I swallow. “I can’t sleep. I think I’ve slept pretty much all day.”
    He huffs in frustration and drops on the floor, pushing the chair further from the fireplace.