Page 1 of Stolen By the Mountain Man

1

HELENA

Ishouldn’t have had that glass of wine on the plane. It was cheap. It was nasty. But it was free.

I’d gotten a voucher somehow. It had to do with my sister’s loyalty points. She’d booked this ticket, then transferred it to my name at the last minute. It was either that or cancel, so I volunteered to take the trip.

As soon as I stepped off the plane, I rushed to the nearest bathroom, breathing a sigh of relief when I found it empty. This side of it, anyway. There was a whole other side where I heard a toilet flushing.

I just needed a minute to myself to look in the mirror and make sure I still looked like a twenty-seven-year-old who wore size ten clothing. I was only twenty-three, and I’d barely squeezed into my size fourteens, but I loved my curves. The only time I hated them was right now, when a certain mountain man was expecting me to show up looking like the woman whose pictures he’d ogled for the past six weeks.

“Six weeks,” I whispered aloud, shaking my head.

I washed my hands, mostly for something to do. I didn’t have to go to the bathroom. I’d done that twice on the plane—once notlong after takeoff and once right before we landed. When I got jittery, my bladder rebelled on me.

I shut off the water, walked over to the hand dryer, and waved my hands under it. Nothing happened. I waved again. Nothing happened.

“Come on,” I said out loud, my voice echoing throughout the bathroom.

I winced. I could hear chatter on the other side. If they found out I was alone over here, they’d probably think I was a total loon.

One more wave, and the hot air blasted out. I closed my eyes and savored the feel of the warmth on my hands. Somehow, it was comforting.

Okay, enough delaying. I had to get outside. He was waiting at the curb, according to the text I’d gotten in response to my message letting him know I’d landed.

My sister had loaded a ride share app on my phone because she thought I was coming to the mountains alone. I’d lied to her and said I’d rented a cabin so I could use her plane ticket for the alone time I needed. I felt bad about being dishonest, but I was lying to her about far worse. Basically, I was stealing her fiancé right out from under her.

“It’s not stealing,” I whispered to myself.

I grabbed the handle of my suitcase and rolled it out of the bathroom. My laptop bag was propped on top. Since graduating a full six months ago with a graphic design degree, I’d spent all day, every day on this laptop, looking for work and perfecting my portfolio. Yes, I needed a break.

That was why I’d volunteered to take my sister Daphne’s place. I’d spend some time regrouping in the middle of a mountain town. The quiet, fresh air, and beautiful views would be good for me.

I put one foot in front of the other, each step bringing me closer to the man my sister had promised to marry, then backed out at the last minute. She’d typed up an email and had me read over it. What she didn’t realize was I’d changed the email address when she wasn’t looking. Daphne had no idea her break-up message was going to Isaac Thorp instead of her true fiancé, Isaac Thorpe.

At the time, I’d just hoped the stranger wouldn’t reply. Luckily, he hadn’t, and here I was pretending to be Daphne for a week. At the end of that week, Isaac would either fall in love with me and want to marry me, or I’d go back to Philadelphia with my tail between my legs, finally confessing to my sister what I’d done.

I stopped just outside the door, people with luggage rushing around me. Straight ahead, parked at the curb, was a black SUV. Black SUVs were pretty common, though. There was another one to my right, but someone was getting into it.

I took a deep breath and rolled my suitcase to the crosswalk, doing my best to walk like my older sister did. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement by the SUV. A head popped up. The driver had exited the vehicle and walked to the front of it.

It was him—the man whose image had been imprinted on my brain since my sister first showed me a picture. This was my dream man. The man I wanted to marry and spend the rest of my life with.

“Daphne?” he asked.

A pang of guilt shot through me at the sound of my sister’s name. But it wasn’t like it was unfamiliar. My sister was the oldest and the favorite, always had been. Other families might spoil the youngest, but not mine.

Daphne could do no wrong. She was a nurse who’d worked her way to a management role at a giant assisted living facility in my hometown. I, on the other hand, was someone who barelygot passing grades in college in any class that wasn’t my major. I was an artist. Even in classes where I was interested, sitting and listening to instructors for hours on end wasn’t my thing. My mind tended to drift.

“Yes,” I said, rolling my suitcase to a stop near his front fender. “You must be Isaac.”

I extended my arm for a handshake and started having doubts almost immediately. Should I have reached out for a hug? What was the protocol when you were engaged to someone you were meeting in person for the first time? I wasn’t even all that experienced with dating, let alone being engaged to a stranger. A stranger I might already be falling in love with.

He eyed my hand for a long moment, then reached out his hand, clasping it around mine. I was already shaking all over, but that stopped as soon as we made contact. That was when other sensations overwhelmed me. A warmth spreading through my body, a feeling that I was exactly where I was meant to be, even if I’d deceived the person I loved most in this world to get here.

“I’ll put this in the back.” He gestured to indicate my suitcase. “Go ahead and get in. Wait. I should open the door for you. I’m kind of out of practice.”

Only then did he release my hand, and he nearly tripped over his own feet, going around me to grab my suitcase and drag it to the back. On the way, he stopped to open the door for me.

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