Page 48 of Billionaire Lumberjack's Bride

That I might file for an annulment after my near-death experience and get the hell off this mountain permanently, leaving him hanging in whatever quagmire he has with the Boltons…

That I might actually break through the seemingly impenetrable wall he hides behind…

All seem like real possibilities.

And after staring into icy eyes for so long, the warm pools now looking back at me seem deep enough to drown in if I let myself.

He brushes his thumb across my cheek, the move sweet and almost reverent. A heavy sadness settles over him, darkening his gaze and making his jaw harden. “I didn’t save you, Lyla. I doomed you.”

Doomed me?

I struggle against the fog still enveloping my brain from the cold, attempting to wrap my head around his words.

Because they don’t make sense.

None.

This man gave me fifty thousand dollars without asking what it was for. He took me into his home, brought me into his extremely private world, opened himself up to scrutiny from a complete stranger. And he just spent what must have beenhourssearching through a damn pitch-black forest in the cold rain to find me when I got lost because I did somethingstupid.

But he says hedoomedme.

If anything, it’s the other way around.

I never imagined my personal drama had the potential to negatively affect whoever I matched with, but the moment I learned who Silas Bolton was, I knew the truth could hurt him.

His family isn’t the type to invite scandal into their lives. And that’s exactly what it would bring if it got out. Which is why I bite back what sits on the tip of my tongue, what Iwantto say to help him understand what he’s done for me.

Silas squeezes his eyes closed, as if he can’t bear to look at me, and when he reopens them, there’s a resolve there that I haven’t seen before during any of our conversations. “I pulled you into something you should never have been involved in, Lyla. It wasn’t fair of me to do that without telling you what was in store for you. And now you’re stuck with me, maybe forever.”

Is that how he sees this?

Like he’sstuckwith me?

A moment of silence hangs between us, the tension building the longer neither of us says anything.

I guess I shouldn’t be so surprised. He never wanted any of this, doesn’t like me invading his space and his life. And now, I’ve lost his goat and almost got myself killed.

I’m a liability.

My attempt to do anything useful around here backfired worse than my first car used to. Everything went to shit so fast it has left my head spinning. Or maybe that’s the after-effects of nearly dying and currently having my almost-nude body pressed against Silas’ under the hot water.

Hard muscle under me and all around me.

Strong, secure arms, holding me tight, keeping me safe.

Exactly what a husbandshoulddo.

It would be impossible not to think about what he told me yesterday—that he has no intention of ever touching me, no intention of being a real husband or partner.

The very things I was so afraid of when I agreed to the mail-order bride idea and came up here have suddenly been replaced with the unexpected fear that I might have to live as a roommate with this moody, confusing, powerful, and frustrating mountain man the rest of my life without ever experiencing a man’s touch again.

Without experiencingthisagain.

His warm, hard body pressed to mine.

Complete focus on me and ensuring I’m all right.

I lightly trail my fingertips over the tattoos on his neck and upper chest. The dark, swirling display follows the theme of most of his ink—vicious, violent images of pirates and sea battles. Of death and destruction. The same dark sadness that seems to permeate the man wearing them like armor. “You’re not as big and scary as you think you are, Silas.”

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