Page 108 of Mountain Men Heroes

Setting her away from him, he bit out, “That shouldn’t have happened. I’m sorry about that.” He tried to work the blanket around her shoulders.

No warm smile or funny jab, no excuse or explanation. Just a cold rejection.

A smile slipped over her lips as she took it all in. She watched as his expression darkened from one second to the next, and his once bright eyes dulled to an echo of what they had been.

Well, who stole his jar of honey? Feeling stupid and caught up in the excitement, she raised her chin and situated her glasses in place. “Yeah, don’t worry about it, buddy.” She really should have stayed in Houston, told her sister she’d quit school over the phone and stopped being such a freaking pussy.

According to her guidebook, the sun set way before it should and true to the facts, daylight dimmed to an early evening. Lights sprang to life yet the shadows quickly clung to his face.

She patted his chest with a couple of quick taps. “I get that kind of reaction all the time.” She jerked away and put several paces between her and the delicious feel of his heat and body wrapped around her before she managed to make a bigger fool of herself.

Her read on people normally never failed, but with him, boy, she totally missed the target by a mile. She waited as another loud group of people rushed by and scanned each face for something else to focus on besides the brooding man at her back and the odd way it settled in her stomach.

Or it could be the booze.

She pushed forward to put some space between them. He had a serious mental case. Hot one second and cold the next. He was right where he needed to be in the frozen lands of Alaska. But right now, she had bigger problems. Like finding her sister, her clothes and her ticket outta this little snowglobe of a town. Besides, storming off into the crowd wrapped in a blanket and not a clue where her bags were—or her clothes—didn’t exactly have the full don’t-mess-with-me effect she was going for.

“Look,” he started.

Don’t look back. Don’t look back. The knot in the pit of her stomach she had nursed for the last three days before coming here doubled in size.

“Ivy. I’m sorry.”

Don’t look back.

She totally turned.

Pain radiated out from Damon, and she could see the remorse that riddled his face. Damn it. She rolled her eyes and fidgeted with the blanket, pulling it tighter around her shoulders.

He put a hand on her shoulder. “Come inside to the bar. My brother Drake put your bags in the office.” He jerked his head in the direction behind him.

At least that answered one question. Sounding gruff, he lowered his voice as he guided her to the sidewalk with a hand on her lower back. “You need to get out of your wet clothes and get warmed up. I can’t have you getting sick because of me.”

The shower and dry clothes sounded like a great idea. “No, you look. I’m not the one that grabbed me and kissed me.” She raised her chin with confidence she didn’t quite feel, and that ate at her insides. The man had a way of knocking her off-kilter and that would stop now before it became a problem.

The noise dimmed and heads swiveled her way. Great, now everyone was looking at them. Again.

His blazing gaze penetrated hers. “I’ve hurt you.” A ghost of what appeared to be guilt played at the corners before he shut down into an unreadable mask.

“Not even in the slightest, buddy.”

If he had a scowl before, now he looked like she served him up a bowl of lemons and force-fed him each one.

“Forget it.” She moved to turn on her heel, the thick material of her socks caught on the rough cement of the sidewalk. “Coming here was a big mistake.”

“Hey, girlie,” called one of the townsfolk as they shuffled around one person only to bump into the next. Coming in hot, a man flirting with eighty, bright-eyed and hunched forward from age or decades working in the harsh environment, caught her off guard. “I’ve never seen long johns and mistletoe look so good.”

Her brows pinched then she remembered the little decoration on her choice of underwear.

“Thanks old-timer.” She guessed. This day was just too weird.

She donned her practiced smile reserved for patients and tucked a little deeper into her cocoon of the blanket. And why she didn’t see the set of ice-white eyes and the man with equally white hair until it was too late.

She fell forward. “Oops, sorry.”

Broad hands reached out to stabilize her but not before she was nose deep in solid muscle that smelled like fresh snow and a hint of something else entirely. Cinnamon maybe? Or Nutmeg. It made her feel like she could ask the stranger anything and he would give her an answer.

Contrary to her profession and medical training, she recognized the earth tendrils of the herbs from her visits with an herbal doctor for a patient that couldn’t afford the crazy prices of prescription drugs for migraines.

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