Page 7 of Recurve Ridge

The structure appeared as welcoming as an abandoned hospital wing.

Through it all, Everest stared down at me. A small, possessive smile lifted his beard at one side. Or maybe I imagined his kindness and he would become my new tormentor after all.

My insides frosted at the concept, though my heart took up a faster rhythm than when he’d been walking. When I tried to speak, my brain played ball, and real words fell out.

A tortured whisper worked its way past my lips. “Where are we?” I peered past his beard, ignoring the aches that vexed every abused muscle.

A strong jawline and high cheekbones were emphasized by a full head of tousled hair shot through with dark chocolate strands that highlighted their reddish neighbors. Trimmed neatly at the edges, it was longer on top and swept into a messy knot.

Something darker—harder—lay beneath his expression, as if this man had seen horrors and stored them within himself when others would run screaming. Deep laugh lines were etched around a wide mouth visible through his beard, though I couldn’t imagine his smile. Moss green eyes surveyed me with a tinge of impatience masked by concern—and something else. Determination.

Or possessiveness.

That flicker of obsession rippled over me again, the expression one I recognized from my boss’s face.

They’re not the same. They’re not the same?—

I’d spent a few minutes at most in this man’s arms. A kind temperament didn’t redefine a lifetime of delusion. He might be the sweetest man I had ever met, or the flip side of the monster I’d fled. Perhaps he was the proud owner of one of the pairs of unknown, disembodied hands.

Though my mind denied the thought, a shiver worked its way along my spine.

His eyes flared, filled with awareness. “My home.” My giant shifted but didn’t release me.

The world rotated in a slow fashion that did nothing whatsoever for my nauseated stomach. Sensing my discomfort, Everest hauled me flat against his chest. I leaned into him, burrowing deeper as the urge to puke on him passed, then squeaked as my legs dangled well above the ground. My bare, scraped feet struggled for purchase against his pants’ tough material.

I lifted both knees to wrap around his waist, but the immediate intimacy overrode my need for freedom. Fighting a closing sensation in my chest, I let him press my body to his as he lowered me to the forest floor in a controlled drop.

Cold pockets of damp pine mulch compressed between my toes as his jacket drew up, leaving my bruised rear hanging out for all and sundry to see. Lucky for me, there didn’t seem to be anyone else around. I yanked at the heavy material, preserving any scrap of dignity I still possessed.

Like I deserve dignity.

Perhaps my ego perceived that thought as a joke. A brutal one at best, and I’d missed the punchline. Or maybe the punchline was me.

A soft sound drew my attention upward. My giant stared down at me, too close, though he didn’t shrink my world. Maybe the world shrank for him instead. His breath brushed my cheeks as he busied himself with wrapping my arms around my body to hold the makeshift barrier in place.

Calloused fingertips paused over my cheek and slid through my hair, avoiding snares by some miracle. A gentle touch for such a giant of a man. Everest caught a rogue strand that tickled my nose, tugged it lightly, and tucked it behind my ear. His unexpected, tender touch left me shivering.

The flash of possession that returned to those forest-green eyes said that this man would kill anyone who touched me without my permission.

And my stupid, broken mindlikedit.

My stolen moment of peace lasted until the door to his hut swung open. Three strapping young men bursting with bulk stepped out onto the veranda dressed in an assortment of checked shirts and jeans, their outfits consistent as a uniform. A second giant, who dwarfed the man clutching my frozen form, followed the newcomers. Blond hair tumbled over bare shoulders. He reached obscenely thick arms above his head to grip raw-cut exposed beams that doubled his bulk. He looked capable of pulling the entire thing down on his own.

I tugged at the hem of Everest’s jacket, wriggling closer to hide, but there was nowhere to go. The soft rumble that vibrated against my ear offered a second shock. He was capable of laughter? A smile crept up my face in reply, the expression both alien and forgiving in one. Then I remembered why I stood before him naked and bruised, and the muscles that strained to hold up my good humor died as I cowered into myself.

To my horror, fresh tears welled, prepared to join the filthy tracks already coating my face with God knew what.

“So, British, huh? Work visa?” Everest nudged the top of my head with his chin.

I shook my head, willing him to let me hide between his bulk and his jacket. “That was one of the threats,” I mumbled, debris and sweat tumbling into my mouth. His body stiffened, perhaps imperceptible outwardly, but given our proximity, I experienced every one of his reactions as they were presented. “Stripping me of my documents. Taking away my identity if I didn’t… comply.”

“I’d send you home, but who would want you?”

Certainly not the overly religious parents already on the verge of disowning me for leaving my small hometown to visit the land of sin. I laughed off their backward notions at the time, but now….

“No one will take you back.”

“You’re so much more beautiful when you’re ruined.”

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