Page 3 of Filthy Rich

My heart stalls and my throat goes dry. “Mail Order Mountain Man?”

He nods and strokes his hand down over his beard. The man is gorgeous. There’s no doubt about it. I can’t believe this was who I was talking to.

“Okay,” I manage. “How did you find my address, or my name, or… anything?”

“I have my ways. Anyway, I’m here to offer you a proposition.”

I laugh. “A proposition? No… how did you get my address? The ranch promises anonymity.”

Christopher’s deep, raspy voice isn’t hard to recognize. It’s unique as the spiked dragon tattoo crawling up his neck.

“I paid an employee. The right amount of money will get you anything you want,” the man swipes his enormous hand over his beard to hide a grin, “which is why I’m here.”

My chest tightens. There’s that arrogance again. I’ll be calling the ranch first thing in the morning. How could they say something is anonymous, then hire employees who give out your information so willingly?

I blow out a heavy breath, fogging up the window still between us. “Well, you’re wasting your time. Whatever you’re here for, I’m not interested.”

“Are you sure… because this place looks like it could use some repairs?”

I narrow my gaze. “So, you stole my information to come out here in the middle of the night and insult my home?”

He grins while shaking his head like the arrogant prick he is. “No. I’ve come to pay you for your time.”

“My time?”What the hell could he want with my time?

The man glances to the side as he tightens his leather gloves over his massive hands. “Why did you say no to me at the ranch?”

“Oh,” I laugh. “This is about you never having heard the word‘no.’Well… I’m sorry for that. I feel bad for you.”

He steps forward. “I’d like to offer you a million dollars for one weekend.”

I glance to the side and back again. Clearly, I’m dreaming. I wonder how badly I’ve drooled over all the essays I’m supposed to be slapping stickers on.

“Oh, okay… a million dollars? Well, I’d like to offer you a billion dollars to leave.”

“I’m serious.” The man straightens his back. “I went out to that ranch to find love, and I found it.”

I bite back nervous laughter. “Nope. If you’d found love, you wouldn’t have to offer it a million dollars to spend time with you. Also, where did you get a million dollars? Are you a contract killer? A drug dealer? I know you didn’t make that much as a real estate developer.”

He grins. “I did, actually. My family owned old land up in Aspen that sold big, and I took it from there. You’d be surprised how much a good spot will go for. Anyway, I’d like to parlay those benefits onto you. Spend one weekend with me and I’ll make it worth your while.”

I’m not sure if it’s the time of night, the fact that I’ve been up since five this morning, or the part where dinner was a few crackers and a cheese stick, but I can’t stop laughing. It’s hysterical laughter. The kind of laughter that bends me over in place.

“Yeah, okay.” I flick off the porch light and head down the hall, trying to stop the mirth that’s spilling from me. Clearly, this is some sort of nervous reaction. I should’ve taken that self-defense course down at the shooting range. The sheriff was offering it free to everyone last month. Of course, I was knee deep in mid-term papers back then. I guess I could cover this man in scratch and sniff stickers if I had to.

Where is my Edward when I need him?

Blowing out a heavy breath, I close the blinds in the living room, turn off the lights, and sit back on the couch, holding Ethan’s essay under the light of my cell phone. I guess the rationalization is that if my lights are off, the weirdo outside will leave me alone, but he doesn’t. He knocks again, and I swear it sounds louder and more aggressive this time.

What the hell does this dude want? No one on Earth would really offer me a million dollars for my time, especially someone that hot. He’s clearly a psychopath. Of course, I’d hook up withthe one weirdo that slipped through the background checks at the ranch.

Shit, I’m going to end up on the news.‘Stupid teacher tries subduing giant, aggressive man with scratch and sniff stickers before being dragged into the woods.’

Standing, I grab the very illegal, sawed-off shotgun my grandpa left me when he passed. I’ve never used the thing and I’m not sure it’s even loaded, but I keep it under the sofa, just in case. At this point, I’m hoping the threatening nature of this boom stick is enough to get this man off my property.

Peeling back the curtain with the short barrel of the gun, I peek out onto the front porch. “Do you need to learn things the hard way?”

The man laughs under his breath and holds up his hands before turning off the front porch. “I’ll be back tomorrow afternoon with the first half of the cash. Dress warm.”

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