Page 2 of Fierce Mountain Man

“Did it break the skin?” he asked.

I looked up at him. He was closer now, and my plan had been to answer his question, but instead, I was staring at him—gaping, really. Gaping like I’d never seen a big guy with movie-star good looks. He had a face that combined handsomeness and ruggedness in a way that was almost too good to be believed.

“Looks like it,” I said. “I’m bleeding like crazy over here.”

After the words were out, the embarrassment hit me. I was bleeding all over my left shoe in front of a gorgeous guy. Way to make a good first impression.

It didn’t matter, though. I wasn’t dating. Not until I got my business going.

“Can you walk?” he asked.

I’d expected him to be a little squeamish at the sight of blood. But maybe he couldn’t see it—it was dark, after all, and my foot was on top of my black flat. Or maybe a little blood didn’t bother a guy like him. Most of the men around here were former military. I’d swear someone had said that. Military guys could deal with a little blood. Or a lot of blood, in this case.

“I don’t think I should put my foot down on this,” I said. “If it’s an open wound, won’t it get infected? Maybe I could take the nail out of my shoe and slide my foot back inside.”

Did I expect him to be a medic? For all I knew, he was just passing by and heard me scream. In fact, that was very likely what had happened. He might not even be associated with this construction site.

“Hold your purse in front of you,” he said.

“What?” I stared at him, blinking several times.

“Trust me.”

Trust him? I didn’t even know his name. How could he expect me to trust him?

The truth was, I didn’t have much choice. I could stand here and bleed all over my shoe, try to limp out of here, or trust this guy. Trusting him was the most appealing option.

I moved my purse in front of me, still keeping the strap over my shoulder, of course. “Okay.”

He came toward me, and my heart started pounding. It was hammering against my chest so hard I was sure he could hear it.

Was he going to kiss me? It was a ridiculous thought. Okay, part of me was sure he was going to wrap his arms around me and pull me against him, giving me the kiss of my life.

But instead, he came around to my side and scooped me up, holding me against his chest. He was carrying me out of here.

Holy shit. I was being carried out of a construction zone by a hot mountain man. Even if I’d tried to visualize this, it wouldn’t have felt like this. His strong arms around me. His muscular chest making me feel safe.

Maybe putting romance on hold for business wasn’t a good idea, after all. A guy like this might make it worth breaking my rules.

2

TOBIAS

My buddies on the logging crew were going to give me hell for this one. If they found out about it, that was.

I came out of my bathroom with my large first-aid kit in hand. Some of this stuff might be expired. It was from my military days—I bought it when I lived on base, and I was guessing it was a few years old. But last time I checked, bandages didn’t expire. And I couldn’t find an expiration date on the antibiotic ointment.

My damsel in distress was in the guest bathroom—the only bathroom in the house with a tub. When I entered, the water was still running as she held her foot under it, her eyes squeezed closed.

“You okay?” I asked, leaning against the doorjamb and watching her.

The woman who’d introduced herself as Emmy gasped and turned to face me. Shit. I hadn’t meant to scare her.

“I’ll clean your tub if there’s any blood on it,” she said.

Of all things for her to be worried about when blood was coming out of her foot, dirtying up my bathtub should have been the least of them. That just told me what type of woman shewas. She was beautiful—stunning. By far the most interesting-looking woman I’d seen in a long time. It was more than just those gorgeous curves and that long, straight, dark hair. And more than those curves that made my hands ache to explore. It was those eyes that gave just a hint of mystery while still being warm and kind.

“Don’t worry about that,” I said. “It’s a bathtub. And it’s white. I’ll just throw bleach on it if it doesn’t come out.”

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