* * * *
Otho helped Mason back into bed. He couldn’t believe he’d run, naked, in the snow. Sure, confusion was a sign of hypothermia, but to run outside without a stitch of clothing?
The ambulance would arrive any minute now—or so he hoped. He’d rushed into the resort, straight into the bar where he knew Joslyn would be. He hadn’t made much sense, but at least she’d called an ambulance for him.
His hands were shaking as he ran a hand over his wet beard and chest—at least the ice had melted. Not wasting any time, he pulled off his clothes. A shiver worked its way through him. Shit, he’d gone out on the river. His heart pounded and his fingers trembled so badly that he had trouble unbuttoning his jeans.
“Erm…what do you think you’re doing?” Mason’s hazel eyes tracked his motions with suspicion.
“Getting out of my wet clothes.”
“Oh no, you’re not.”