Page 2 of Accidentally Kidnapping the Mountain Man

It’s hunger.

I’m instantly angry. Is this all a game to him? Is he toying with me and wasting my time for shits and giggles? This is my life we’re talking about here.

Flames. Flames on the side of my face.

“I’d like to see more homes, I think,” he says, his eyes still on me.

I nod quickly, almost jerkily. “I see. Well, you know, we’re just about out of homes to view. Canmore’s not that big,” I say, my tone sharp, my frustration and desperation bubbling to the surface.

“I’m sure you can find more to show me,” he says easily, as if I can just conjure more homes for sale out of thin air. “Ican up the budget if need be.” He checks his watch, drawing my attention to his huge hands, then glances out the windows, where there’s nothing but white. “We should head back before the snow gets worse,” he says, and I can feel something in me shifting, breaking. Something wild and desperate claws free as he casually shuts the door on my livelihood, and I feel it.

The snap of the moment when I lose my mind.

Logan pulls his keys out of his pocket, ready to head for his truck, and I lunge forward, snatching them out of his hand. The element of surprise works in my favor, freezing Logan in place for a second while I race for the front door. He might be bigger than me—a lot bigger—but I’m fast when I want to be. I yank it open, my heart throbbing, my brain screaming at me to stop, and I race out into the snow without shoes. I barely even register the freezing cold on the stockinged soles of my feet as I run to the side of the house, toward the copse of pine trees there.

I skid to a stop, and then I hurl Logan’s keys as hard and as far as I can into the snowy pines. The wind is blowing so fiercely that I don’t even hear them land.

I’m shivering with cold and adrenaline when I march back into the house, shutting the door behind me with a calm that feels at odds with the insane thing I just did.

“I can’t let you leave,” I say softly. “Not until you agree to buy one of the houses I’ve shown you.”

Oh god. What am I doing? What is happening right now?

Logan’s eyes go wide for a moment and then he frowns, his eyes cutting between me, the front door, and the snow outside, his broad shoulders tense. “I’m not allowed to leave.” He says it slowly, almost monotone, his hands on his hips.

I lick my lips. This…I’m insane. This is insane.

“That’s what I said,” I answer, tipping my chin up to compensate for the tremor in my voice.

“This is kidnapping, you know,” he says, and when his eyes flash to mine, I can see the anger there.

Anger, and…something else.

Something hot and dangerous.

Two

Logan

Three days earlier…

I’m about to freeze my nuts off.

A harsh winter wind whips around me, and I fight the urge to stamp my feet to regain feeling in my toes, to breathe warmth into my chilled hands. The pine trees surrounding the property sway in the wind, clumps of snow falling to the ground with soft, wet plops.

And yet, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be than standing on the porch of a house I have an appointment to view while my impossibly adorable realtor fumbles with the lockbox. She sighs and then tugs off one of her gloves with her teeth, then pulls the other one off and shoves them both haphazardly into her pocket. Only one makes it, so I bend down to scoop up the one she dropped. It’s warm from her skin, and I hand it back to her before I do something completely insane like lift it to my nose to see if it smells like her.

Her fingers shake slightly, probably from the cold, as she squints at her phone and then punches in the numbers. She bites her pillowy lip, her brow furrowed in concentration.

“Come on, you stupid thing. Why won’t you just…ugh. Please? Please can you work? I don’t know if you noticed, but it’s cold as freaking balls out here, so if you could just…” I bite back a smile as she jabs at the numbers again. She sighs and glances over at me, her cheeks a delicious shade of pink from the cold. “I’m sorry, Mr. Armstrong. I think one of the buttons is frozen.”

“Can I try?” I ask, stepping closer, my entire body vibrating as I move into her space. “And I’ve told you, Kaylee, please call me Logan.”

“Right. Logan,” she says, flashing a shy smile my way that makes my heart pound against my ribs. “Um, well. I’m not supposed to tell anyone else the code. For security reasons.” She licks her lip nervously, and I can’t stop myself from tracking the movement.

My fucking god, Kaylee is beautiful. Way too young for me—by a lot—but beautiful all the same.

I move a little closer. “I won’t tell if you don’t,” I say, and I can’t tell if the words actually sound dirty, or they just feel that way to me. My mind is permanently in the gutter when it comes to Kaylee.

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