Page 2 of Trapped with the Growly Rock Star

I approach the tree and begin climbing. The height will give me a better view of the cabin and, hopefully, proof he’s home and a chance to catch his attention.

As I climb, the wind picks up and the snow starts falling even more thickly. Hmm. Climbing trees was a lot easier when I was a little kid. At 24, I’m not quite as spry, or unbreakable. Thismightbe one of those stupid things Juniper warned me not to do. But eventually I reach a suitable branch and perch there, feeling quite proud of myself.

The curtains are open, and I can see almost the entirety of the top floor.

That’s when Lennox Steele walks right into my view.

Stark. Flipping. Naked.

Holy shit.

The man is a work of art…and the chef’s kiss of rugged sex appeal.

He’s got to be in his late forties now, but my god, his body is still as chiseled as that of a man half his age. Broad shoulders, bulky pecs, just the right amount of hair trailing down his chest, his abs, and dropping between that muscled “V”.

As if that hasn’t scrambled my brain enough, my gaze zeroes in on his enormous…umm…

Wow. Is he everblessed.

His hair is wet, like he’s just come from the shower.

Then he stretches.

It’s a full-body stretch that flexes all his delicious muscles, putting everything on display. Oh, lord!

Suddenly I’m burning up despite the blizzard. I actually have to bite my lip to stop from gasping.

“Hallie, focus,” I mutter, closing my eyes for a moment. “You're here for Ciara, not to stare at a naked and very well-hung rock star.”

Then I sneak another peek. I mean, I’m only human.

He’s now sitting on his bed holding a guitar, his long, skilled fingers plucking the strings with a strange expression on his face…part passion, part frustration. He sings—and though I can’t actually hear him, I can imagine his voice in my head—rough, raw, and soulful. I'm captivated. I can understand why Ciara adores him.

A snapping sound jolts me back to reality.

Oh no…

The branch I’m sitting on snaps again, this time giving way, and suddenly I'm falling straight down into—thankfully—a mound of snow below. Still, the impact knocks the wind out of me, and I lie there, temporarily stunned.

“Ow, that's gonna leave a mark,” I groan, assessing the situation. Slowly, I lift my head, chilled to the bone, gingerly trying to gauge the damage. I’m sore, and probably bruised, but it doesn’t feel like anything’s sprained or broken.

Still, if I don’t get back to my Jeep soon, I’m going to freeze to death.

As I prepare to sit up, I’m lifted up almost effortlessly by a strong pair of arms.

“What the hell are you doing out here?” a deep, rumbling voice says near me. I find myself staring up into the most intense gray eyes I've ever seen. His voice is gravelly, like his vocal cords have been roughed up by sandpaper, and his lips are pressed into a hard line. It'shim. Lennox Steele. Up close and personal.

“Well?” he adds impatiently when I don’t answer right away. Okay, he’s kinda grumpy.

“I...um...” I stutter, my brain scrambling for an excuse. “I... I'm so sorry. I didn't mean... I was...” My face heats up as I trail off, cursing my fumbling words under his piercing gaze. I've seen a lot of things in my day—crazy car accidents, bear attacks, you name it—but nothing has left me as tongue-tied as this man's smoldering eyes.

“We don’t have all day, honey. We’ll freeze our asses off out here. Are you okay to stand?”

I nod. “You’re Lennox Steele,” I blurt, my mind still a jumble.

“Yeah. And who are you?” He hauls me to my feet, and I realize he’s now wearing sweats and a huge parka with a fur-lined hood.

“I-I’m Hallie Owens,” I manage to say. Who knew I’d get so starstruck?

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