Page 2 of Arctic Mountain Man
The mountain man stood over him, unconcerned, still radiating enough chilly demeanor that made me shiver. “Now get up and leave. You’re lucky you’re going to be able to walk out of here.”
Aaron scrambled to his feet, clutching his jaw. “You’re insane!”
“Go,” the man ordered. “And don’t come back.”
Aaron bolted down the trail, crashing through brush like his spine had suddenly grown legs. Good riddance.
“Next time, don’t hold back.” I smiled at my rescuer, letting my gaze rake over his shoulders, his jaw, the sheer size of him.
The man didn’t smile back. He didn’t even blink, but one of his eyebrows twitched in his otherwise emotionless face. I wondered a little hysterically if that was his version of flirting. Even that tiny twitch made me feel more seen than I had ever with Aaron.
He crouched in front of me, his hands closing around my ankle. Big, rough-looking hands—yet careful in the way they held me. I hated how good it felt to be taken care of—even by a stranger who looked like he belonged on the arctic tundra instead of surrounded by trees of every color. “Twisted?”
“Yeah. I stepped in a hole the size of the Grand Canyon.”
“Wrong state.” This time the edge of his mouth twitched and the heat that sparked in his eyes made my belly clench.
He gave a short nod, then looked up at me—blue eyes steady but unreadable.
“Don’t scream.”
“What?”
And then he picked me up. Backpack, curves and attitude. My breath caught as his arms locked around me, one under my knees, the other around my pack.
“You don’t have to do this,” I whispered, throat tight. I didn’t know what to do. I had never been picked up by a man before. It was a thrilling experience. If Aaron had picked me up I would have been afraid he’d drop me.
Not this man.
“No. I don’t.”
He adjusted me against his chest, and I felt it all—his strength, his heat, the steady beat of his heart under his flannel shirt. I should’ve been scared. Or cautious. Or at the very least asked for his name. But the way he looked at me, like he alreadyknew I hated having to have someone help me. It made me feel weirdly safe.
And wanted.
An emotion I never felt with Aaron. I gave a deep sigh.
“He’s not worth it.”
“What?” I looked up at him and my vision was filled with that granite jaw—and his dark beard. I wanted to reach out and touch it, see if it was as soft as it appeared to be. I blamed the pain I was in for immediately imagining what it would feel like scraping against my nipples or up my inner thigh.
“You twisted your ankle. You can’t walk. He was going to leave you behind. That’s all you need to know.”
“He said he’d get help,” I mumbled, embarrassed but angry as hell at Aaron. I wished I had a signal so I could leave him a scathing text.
“He’s an asshole.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” I wasn’t sure the etiquette on this situation, but surely I could wrap my arms around his neck—for support. Right? I eased them up his broad chest. When he didn’t snap at me or drop me, I settled more deeply into his embrace.
He just kept walking, effortlessly, like it was nothing. And it probably wasn’t for someone built like him. He made me, with all my curves, feel small and feminine.
“What’s your name? I’m Sadie.”
He didn’t answer.
“Oh, okay. Cool. Just carry me off into the woods in complete silence. This is normal. Perfectly normal.”
I didn’t try to talk after that. There was just the sound of his boots on the trail, the rustle of leaves and the occasional grunt when he adjusted his hold on me. I let my head rest against his shoulder, partly because the entire day was catching up to me fast—and partly because it felt…safe. Warm. Like home. I knewI should shake myself out of this feeling, but I allowed myself a few more minutes.
