Page 20 of The Mountain Man's Untamed Bride
"You could use a good spanking," he said suddenly, the rough texture of his voice sending a delicious shiver through me.
I recovered quickly, tilting my chin up defiantly. "Go ahead. I'd probably like that."
He blinked, clearly not expecting that response. Then he rolled his eyes, shaking his head. "You're such a brat."
"And you're a tease," I countered. "All mountain man muscles and intense stares, but heaven forbid you actually do something about it."
The muscles in his face tensed, and for a moment, I thought I'd pushed too far. The way he looked at me—like he was imagining exactly what he'd do if he let himself lose control—made my knees weak. A flush crept up from his collar, and his fingers curled into loose fists, the cords in his neck standing out in sharp relief.
"You have no idea what you're asking for," he said quietly.
"Then show me." I closed the distance between us, close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body.
Something primal and unspoken passed between us. He hadn't moved away, and conflict was evident in his expression—desire warring with restraint. His breathing turned ragged, tension rippling across his face.
"Scarlett," he began, his words rasped, "I don't think—"
The sudden, frantic barking of dogs outside cut him off mid-sentence. Not just ordinary barking—this was the high-pitched, urgent sound of canines detecting a threat.
Bodhi transformed instantly. The conflicted, desire-laden man disappeared, replaced by someone focused and dangerous. He traversed the small living space to a cabinet I hadn't noticed before, pulling out a long rifle with swift, decisive movements. "Stay inside," he ordered, all playfulness gone from his voice. "Lock the door behind me. If I'm not back in ten minutes, release Colonel. He's been trained for this."
"Trained for what?" I asked, alarmed by the sudden shift. "What does the chicken do??"
But Bodhi was already moving toward the door, his hands checking the rifle with the smooth certainty of someone who'd done it thousands of times. The teasing mountain man had vanished, replaced by someone who moved with the focusedalertness of a soldier, his eyes methodically sweeping the darkness beyond the windows.
Then he was gone, disappearing into the night with a ghostlike stealth that left me more unsettled than comforted.
I locked the door behind him as instructed, my heart racing. The cabin suddenly seemed very small and very vulnerable.
Colonel stared at me from his perch near the window, his beady eyes unblinking. He tilted his head in that unsettling bird way, as if judging my capability as a backup security system.
"So," I said to him, the vibrator still clutched forgotten in my hand, "what exactly are you trained to do? Peck intruders to death? Send coded messages with your clucking? Alert the nearest lumberjack convention?"
The rooster ruffled his feathers importantly, puffing up to nearly twice his size as if to say, "That's classified information, princess."
"Great," I muttered, moving to peer out the window into the darkness. "I'm hiding in a cabin with a top-secret military chicken while a man I've known for two days stalks through the darkness playing Rambo."
I wrapped my arms around myself, suddenly aware of how ridiculous this whole situation was. My femme fatale performance had crumbled the moment real danger appeared. Now I was just a girl from Atlanta, way out of her element, watching the door with growing unease.
What bothered me most wasn't the potential threat outside or even my spectacular failure at losing my V-card—it was the knot of worry tightening in my chest with each passing minute. The thought of Bodhi getting hurt made my stomach twist in a way that caught me completely off-guard.
Damn it. I hadn't come all this way to develop actual feelings for the mountain hermit. That wasn't part of the plan at all.
Chapter Seven
“Dangerous Directions”
Bodhi
The night air cut through my shirt as I moved silently across the property, rifle ready. The frantic barking from Mack's hunting hounds had stopped abruptly, leaving an unnatural quiet that raised the hair on my neck. Those dogs rarely came this far up the mountain, and I'd never heard them sound that alarmed before tonight.
Something—or someone—had disturbed them.
The mountain breeze carried the usual forest odors, but mixed with something jarring—the unmistakable trace of designer cologne that had no business this far from civilization. I moved away from the cabin, sticking to the shadows where the moonlight couldn't reach.
Eight minutes of careful searching revealed nothing beyond ordinary forest movement and the occasional startledrabbit. Still, that warning feeling in my gut wouldn't quiet down—the same feeling that had saved my life more times than I cared to count.
I widened my search, moving further from the cabin in larger circles. The half-moon gave just enough light to see without needing a flashlight that would have announced my position to anyone watching.
