Page 45 of Protected By the Mountain Man

Then Gabe was turning me around, taking the glass out of my hand, placing it firmly on the counter. I gazed up at him, taking a breath.

He kissed me.

It wasn't sweet or tentative. It was as if he were staking a claim, the kind of kiss that pushed every rational thought out of my head. His hands found my hips, and I was suddenly lifted, my butt perched on the edge of the cold kitchen counter.

He kissed me again, his mouth insistent, telling me without words that this was happening, right here, right now.

“Dammit, Gabe,” I managed between kisses, but it wasn't a protest—it was frustration because I couldn’t get him naked fast enough, I wanted to feel those hard muscles bare under my palms. My fingers worked at the buttons of his flannel shirt, clumsy with urgency.

He didn't answer; he was busy shrugging out of his jacket, tossing it onto the floor without a care. His lips never left mine for more than a second, just long enough to get rid of more layers. I could feel the heat from his body even before the shirt joined the jacket, an inferno compared to the chill seeping in through the windows.

His lips left mine only to graze over my pulse.

“Kat,” he murmured against my neck, voice rough, hot breath sending a shiver across my skin. His hands slid under my skirt, large and warm, leaving a trail of fire. I leaned into him, all but tearing at his belt, frustration mounting. I wanted fabric gone, barriers destroyed. I needed to feel him against me, skin to skin, nothing in between.

“Easy, spitfire,” he teased, but his own movements betrayed his calm tone.

He was just as desperate, just as reckless.

I was almost ready to shove his flannel off when something cut through the haze of desire—a frantic barking.

We both froze.

Bandit.

Gabe’s head snapped up, eyes meeting mine, and the intensity shifted from passion to alarm in an instant.

“Something's not right,” I said.

We bolted for the door, my heart in my throat. The cool night air hit me like a slap to the face as we stumbled out onto the porch. Smoke clawed at my throat before I even saw the flames.

But when I did…

“Shit.” The word fell from Gabe's lips like a death knell.

I followed his gaze and felt the ground beneath me give way. Orange tongues licked the sky, reaching out from what used to be the barn. My safe haven, my livelihood, ablaze before my eyes.

Horses were screaming inside, and Bandit…

Bandit wasn’t barking anymore.

“Bandit!” My scream tore through the chaos, a raw sound of naked terror. My thoughts were white noise punctuated by the dog's name. The need to find him, to know he was safe, consumed me, drowning out even the roar of the inferno that threatened to devour everything I loved.

Then out of the smoke, like a bat out of hell, Bandit came barreling toward me. I dropped to my knees and caught him in my arms, the dog panting and smelling like charred wood.

“Jesus, buddy.” My voice cracked, relief gushing through me as I checked him over for burns or injuries. “You scared the life out of me.”

“Kat!” Gabe was on the porch, our earlier heat forgotten. “What do we do?”

“Get him inside.” I shoved Bandit into Gabe's arms, not missing the way his face pinched with concern. “And call 911—now!”

Without waiting for a response, I spun on my heel and sprinted toward the barn. The fire might've had a head start, but there was no way it was going to win.

Not tonight.

Not on my watch.

“Kat, stop! It's not safe!”

---