Page 8 of A Mountain Man Christmas

His grip tightened again, reminding her that she was still very much in mortal danger. Lyla’s brain spun into overdrive, devising multiple strategies to escape his hold. Maybe another kick to a soft spot…

“I am not the killer that Angus and his men think me to be,” he told her. “You hear that? I don’t know if he sent you after me, but you all have the wrong idea. It wasn’t me. I’m not a murderer.”

Lyla frowned.Wait a minute. “Angus? Who’s Angus?”

She sensed his confusion even before he responded. “Angus did not send you? You’re not from Elorn?”

“Elon Musk?”

“My village.”

“Village?” Okay, this man wasn’t making any sense. “Don’t play dumb with me, Theophilus. You were on that plane to Chicago, weren’t you?”

“Who’s Theophilus? What plane?”

She wanted badly to kick him for toying with her, but something about his tone told her he wasn’t kidding. This man really had no idea what she was talking about. But that couldn’t be right. He was Theophilus Hill, wasn’t he?

Taking deep breaths to steady herself, she squinted into his face. It was still too dark to see much, but she registered his dark hair and beard. Dark eyes stared down at her, filled with a mix of emotions. The man looked pretty much like the same criminal whose photo she’d been gazing at on the plane, the same criminal she’d tried to arrest before…but something was different about him.

“You’re not him,” she breathed, more to herself than to him. “I can’t believe I got the wrong guy again.”

This man looked somewhat older. Heck, he evensoundeddifferent. How hadn’t she realized it sooner? Maybe the cold and hunger were affecting her discernment.

Lyla, you idiot.

He took his gloved hands off her shoulders and sat back on his haunches. “I don’t know who Theophilus is. I don’t even know who you are.”

For a second, his gaze shifted from her face, his eyes rapidly taking in their surroundings. When they settled back on her, she held her breath. They gleamed with annoyance and frustration, but as she gazed back into them, she registered something else: fear. This man might not be the person she was after, but he was definitely on the run from something.

No,someone. What was the name he’d mentioned again? Angus. Whoever that was, he’d made this big man uncomfortable enough to go running down a freezing mountain at dusk.

It’s not your problem,Lyla, she told herself.He’s not your guy.

As if that mattered. Curiosity prodded at her. He might not be Theophilus Hill, but that didn’t mean he was innocent. From what she’d gathered so far, this Angus person seemed to think he’d killed someone. Maybe handcuffing their wrists together hadn’t been such a bad call after all.

A flutter of relief filled her chest. This guy was the first person she’d come across ever since she’d left the crash site. Criminal or not, she had to admit it felt good to know she wasn’t alone out here.

The man rose to his feet all of a sudden, nearly yanking Lyla’s arm out of the socket in the process.

“Hey!” she protested, glaring up at him. “What the hell?”

“Get these shackles off me,” he growled. “I need to keep moving before—”

“I don’t think that’s possible. You’re stuck with me until further notice.”

His eyes narrowed dangerously, and for a second, she thought he might attack her. He towered over her, his broad body almost completely filling her vision. She masked her trepidation with a fierce look.

“This is more serious than you think,” he told her. “Take them off.”

“What, you think being handcuffed to you is a fun experience for me?” Lyla scoffed, then looked away. “I’d take them off if I could. But that’s the problem.”

“What?”

“I don’t have the keys anymore,” she admitted. “I lost them in the crash.”

The man’s eyes narrowed further, and she could tell what he was thinking:She was probably lying to me.Fair enough. It wasn’t like she trusted him, either. Sure, he wasn’t Theophilus Hill, but if there were a chance that he’d murdered someone…well, taking him in herself wouldn’t be wrong, would it?

He jerked his hand up, momentarily lifting her off the ground. “I could break the shackles.”

---