Page 3 of His Wild Desire

"Somehow, I doubt 'anyone' would've been wandering up that trail after sundown," she counters dryly. "You must have been tracking a... what? A 10-point elk? Prized mountain lion?"

One corner of my mouth tugs upward at her obvious dig despite my efforts to suppress it. There's no hiding the fact that she's got me pretty well pegged already—a true child of the mountains through and through.

"Close," I retort easily, pulling out an elastic bandage and gesturing for her to straighten her leg. "I was actually stalking the most dangerous game of all—the dreaded city tourist who thinks a brand-new pair of hikers means she can handle the Rockies solo."

Her brows instantly knit in a glare, but I don't give her a chance to fire back before gently taking her calf in my hands and starting to wrap the bandage. She hisses sharply at the first firm press of fabric, her eyes fluttering closed, but I keep my touches light and even as I work.

"Cold water and this compression bandage will bring that swelling down soon enough," I explain. Something tells me this one could use all the basic survival tips she can get out here. "Just gotta keep it elevated and let it rest for—"

"Yes, I think I can grasp the concept of R.I.C.E. without the full Boy Scout rundown," she interrupts. But there's an unmistakable undercurrent of gratitude in her tone that instantly takes any sting out of the snarky words.

I smirk faintly and give one last gentle tug to secure the wrap, resisting the urge to let my fingers linger on that soft skin any longer than necessary. "Whatever you say, city girl."

That earns me one of those patented eye rolls again, but she doesn't argue further as I drag another chair over and carefully prop her leg up on it. My gaze drifts over her face, searching for any lingering traces of discomfort before I force myself to avert it again with an inward grimace.

What the hell am I doing here playing nursemaid for this total stranger? I've got better things to do than coddle some spoiled princess who got in over her head out here.

Still... I can't quite bring myself to leave her to her own devices. There's a fire in this girl that's hard to ignore. She might be utterly clueless about life in the mountains, but she's got moxy—I'll give her that much.

"So," Emma's voice pipes up again. "What's the wi-fi password around here?"

I turn back toward her with a bark of laughter. "You really think I got internet all the way up here?"

Her eyes go comically wide. "You mean, we're totally off the grid up here?"

"That's kinda the point,” I tell her, sliding into the other chair.

"Please tell me you at least have a functional toilet."

My deep chuckle echoes around the small space at her obvious horror. Thanks to the rainwater collection system and the generator, I've managed to rig up a decent bit of indoor plumbing here, but I can't resist milking this for all it's worth.

"We've got good old-fashioned firelight, a well-stocked pantry, and the sweet song of the great outdoors as our evening soundtrack."

I gesture grandly around the cozy confines, unable to bite back my smirk at the utterly dumbfounded look on her face. City folks are too damned easy to rile up sometimes.

She gapes at me, seeming at a total loss. "But... how do you, like, watch TV? Listen to music? Hell, what do you even do for entertainment?"

"I go outside," I drawl slowly, as if explaining something to a small child. "You know, enjoy nature and all. Fresh air, trees... that kinda stuff."

Emma wrinkles her pert nose. "So, what? You just embrace squalor for fun?" she scoffs. "Living like a caveman?"

"I embrace freedom," I counter. "Freedom from the chaos and noise and meaningless bullshit that you've convinced yourself you can't live without."

Her jaw clenches, those striking green eyes sparking with defiance. But I've struck a nerve, and we both know it.

"Don't knock it till you've tried it, princess," I add with a shrug. "Out here? You're stripped down to what really matters. No distractions. Just existing on your own terms. It's simple."

She's quiet for a long beat, that sharp gaze searching my face as if seeing me for the first time. I hold her stare, refusing to be the one who looks away first.

"Simple like sleeping on a straw mattress and bathing in an icy stream?" she counters at last, her tone more curious than mocking.

I bark out a laugh. "You're catching on."

Standing, I cross the cabin to the cedar chest at the foot of the bed. The bed itself, draped in a patchwork quilt, sits against the far wall, flanked by small, shuttered windows that cast slanted beams of light across the room. I flip open the chest, the creak of the hinges echoing slightly, and begin rummaging through for a clean shirt.

Speaking of simple living, I don't have much in the way of sleepwear for a lady guest." I turn back to her with a faded flannel in hand. "But this ought to do the trick."

She accepts the oversized shirt, her fingers brushing mine in the exchange. A spark of awareness prickles along my skin, one I determinedly ignore.

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