Page 4 of The Mountain Man's Bride

There’s an answering hunger within me. It’s primal and fierce, something I’ve never felt before. All I know is I want to reach out and trace the curve of his ass. I want to know what it would feel like beneath my hands.

When he’s done with that task, he rises and his fine figure is no longer on display. He doesn’t even glance in my direction.

“Where am I?” I ask again as I suddenly realize the gravity of my situation. He might be hot. But I’m alone with a stranger in an unfamiliar place. An unfamiliar remote place. No one knows where I am.

He doesn’t answer as he stalks from the room and back outside, his heavy boots thumping along the porch.

“Not a very talkative host,” I mutter under my breath as his footsteps fade. I shrug out of the coat he covered me with and find I’m still clutching my purse on my shoulder.

Keeping one eye on the door, I start searching through my bag. I don’t know what this stranger wants from me or what his plans are, but his quiet ways are unnerving.

Fortunately, he left my cellphone in my bag untouched. I turn it on, breathing a sigh of relief when I see it still has some battery life left to it.

But my relief is short-lived. There’s no cell reception. I try to send a text message to my friend and call my grandfather. The message won’t send, and the call won’t go through.

“Tower is down,” my mountain man grunts as he enters the cabin again. He drops one of my suitcases on the floor. There was supposed to be a matching second one.

“I want you to take me into town,” I say the words firmly. The past year of taking over my grandfather’s business has taught me to be assertive. The first step to getting what you want is to state it firmly and clearly so there are no misunderstandings.

Mountain man snorts. “Keep wanting, sweetheart.”

My body stills at his words and my heart rate speeds up. I work to keep my tone calm and unaffected as if I were negotiating with a vendor that’s trying to raise his prices far above the market value. “Are you keeping me here?”

3

MAGGIE

He chuckles when I ask if he’s keeping me here. “You’re welcome to climb down the mountain in the middle of a blizzard. One less annoying houseguest for me.”

I pause at his words. “I’m a guest? That means I’m free to leave at any time?”

Something in his expression softens for a second before it’s gone again. “You damn near died on the side of the road. I’m not the villain here, sweetheart.”

I like the way he calls me sweetheart. The endearment is spoken with a kindness and gentleness I wouldn’t expect from someone with his exterior. “You don’t plan to hurt me?”

He scowls. “I’m Crew. I work at the lumber mill in town, and I won’t let anything bad happen to you while you’re here.” He grabs my suitcase and gestures for me to follow him.

I hesitate for a moment before I finally stand. I have to move slowly because there are still waves of dizziness. That might have less to do with the accident and more to do with the fact that I was too nervous to eat anything earlier today.

He opens the door to a bedroom. Like the living room, it’s sparsely furnished with only a large bed surrounded by a wrought-iron frame and an antique dresser. The braided oval rug in front of the fireplace and the handmade quilt on the bed are the only items that soften the space.

He puts the suitcase on the bed before he turns to me and grimaces. “Bathroom is through the other door. Change your clothes.”

“I’m Maggie,” I say softly. I glance down and realize I’m still in my wedding dress. Getting out of it would probably be a good idea. It would definitely be more comfortable.

Crew grunts at my introduction and leaves me alone in the room without another word.

I wait until he’s gone then I creep to the door and lock the knob. I don’t know why I bother. A guy that size could probably kick it in. Not that I get the feeling he would. No, this mountain man might be big and gruff. But he’s not going to hurt me.

I unzip the suitcase and feel a wave of dread wash over me when I see all the lacy things in it. This was my sexy times suitcase for the honeymoon. Not the one with my real clothes.

Then I realize what this means. I may not have my comfy pair of jeans that hug my hips and make my ass look amazing, but I have something even better with me. Pushing aside the lacy thongs and delicate negligées, I reach for the hidden treasure underneath.

“Come to Mama,” I say as I reveal the bottle of expensive wine I purchased. It was supposed to be for my honeymoon. But since everything else has gone to hell, it seems like the perfect time for a drink.

Crew

Don’t think about her naked.

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