Feral by Julia Gabriel Page B

If you could overlook all that, he was kind of good-looking.
    I need to wake up. This is the weirdest dream I've had in ages. I'm lying with my head in the lap of some guy who looks like he was raised by wolves and I'm thinking he's kinda' good-looking?
    But I'm not afraid. The man's expression was soft, not hostile. Worry crinkled the skin around his eyes. If he had wanted to rape and kill her, he could have done that already. That didn't explain his appearance, though, and his general lack of clothing.
    She made a move to sit up, not sure whether he would let her. He let his fingers slip from her hair, moving his hands to her back to support her as she sat upright.
    Whoa. Woozy. Her body swayed and he reached out to steady her. He held her by the arms, her face just inches from his. She looked into his questioning eyes and knew she was going to faint again. She was certain of it. He let go of one of her arms and touched her nose lightly with his finger, then took a deep breath himself.
    Right. He wants me to breathe. She inhaled, filling her lungs with clean, sharp forest air, then slowly let it all out. She was startled to see him inhale at the same time, a thoughtful expression on his face, as though he was tasting her breath.
    "Who are you?" Julianne whispered. "What are you doing out here?"
    He opened his mouth as if to speak, then pressed his lips back together. This failure to speak drew her attention to his mouth. It had been awhile since she'd been this close to a man's lips, and these were lovely lips indeed. In fact, for someone who was nearly naked, needed a shave and had twigs in his hair, he was pretty damn handsome. There was a strong jawline beneath the scruffy facial hair and her fingers suddenly ached to stroke one of those prominent cheekbones. This close, she saw a tiny diagonal scar on his forehead and wondered how he'd gotten that.
    And those eyes. They were a rich, deep brown and there was no mistaking the look of concern in them right now. Whoever this man was, he clearly intended her no harm. But why not?
    "Who are you?" she repeated.
    He barked in response. Startled, Julianne jerked backward out of his grip. So this was what people meant when they said barking mad.
    She watched him carefully. He watched her back. When she felt certain he was not going to hurt her—at least not immediately—she touched her lips, then her ears. "Can you hear?" He looked at her uncomprehendingly. "Can you talk?" He doesn't understand what I'm saying. She tried a few words in Spanish, then French. Then she was out of languages.
    He tilted his head suddenly, as if he was listening to something off in the distance. Julianne noticed that the daylight was fading. Shit. She had to get back. She had a three-hour hike ahead of her. While he concentrated on whatever he was hearing, she slid down from the edge of the lean-to. His attention snapped back to her. She gestured with her hands at the sky and vaguely at the forest, trying to communicate that she had to go. 
    She was barely ten feet down the trail before she heard a barking sound behind her. When she turned, the man was pointing at another trail. Oh right. That was the trail I came in on. Great. I could have been lost all night.
    She smiled sheepishly as she walked over to the other trailhead. He reached out and touched her arm, then pointed to his back. Julianne was confused. He bent his knees so his back was lower, and pointed into the darkening trail.
    "Wait. You want—"
    He inclined his head toward the trail, then pointed at his back again. He was offering to give her a piggyback ride? Was that it? She made a tentative step toward him and he nodded. She leaned her chest against his back and looped her arms around his neck. He stood and pulled her legs around his waist.
    He didn't run at superhuman speed but his pace was more than mere jogging. Julianne was impressed with his strength, not to mention his stamina. Nor could she ignore the way his back muscles felt