Trusting a Stranger (3 page)

So to speak.

Graham was actually a little surprised at how efficiently the fire took hold. Not to mention how well the whole thing cooperated. Several minutes of blistering, blue-green flames, an enormous puff of black smoke, then a fade-to-gray cloud that blended in nicely with the fog that had rolled in from above.

Not that Graham was complaining—it sure as hell made his task a lot easier. The husk of the car continued to smolder, but with the fuel burned up and the decidedly frozen state of the surrounding area, he wasn’t even worried about it spreading any farther.

Not bad for my first arson attempt.

The thought only made him smile for a second. The last thing he needed was to add another felony to the list that already followed his name around.

“Is that my car?”

At the soft, tired-sounding question, Graham whipped around. For a second, he just stared down at her, mesmerized by the way her long, dark eyelashes brushed against her porcelain skin, and entranced by the enticing plumpness of her lips.

He’d never seen a more beautiful girl, or felt an attraction so strong.

“Is it?” she said again.

Reality hit Graham.

Saving her had been a hell of a lot more than just a
bad
idea. If Graham’s instincts were right—and they usually were—then this walk in the storm turned impromptu rescue mission...would be his undoing.

Chapter Four

Keira met the
stranger’s wary gaze with one of her own. For a moment she saw something heated and intriguing in his eyes that cut through the cold air and sizzled between them. Then it was gone, replaced by the guarded look he wore now, and Keira was left wondering if she’d imagined it.

Maybe it was a hallucination brought on by a head injury, she thought.

Her brain did feel fuzzy, and when she blinked, the snowy world swam in front of her. Even the big man—who was as solid a thing as she’d ever seen—seemed to wobble. Then a wicked, head-to-toe shiver racked Keira’s body, and the Mountain Man’s face softened with worry. Very quickly, he undid his own big red jacket and stepped closer to offer it to her.

Keira only hesitated for a second before she took it gratefully. She vowed silently to give it back as soon as she was thawed. But right then, it was warm
and
it offered her a decent amount of cover, and with it wrapped around her body, she felt a little more in control. Still woozy. But better.

“My car...” Her voice sounded hoarse, and her throat burned a little as she spoke.

When the Mountain Man didn’t answer her third inquiry, she tipped her head toward the smoking mess of metal, then looked back at him again. He just stared back at her, a little crease marking his forehead.

Keira let out a rasping sigh. “Do you speak English?”

He nodded curtly.

“So...what? You’re just testing me out? Deciding if I’m
worthy
of speaking to?”

Her question earned a crooked smile. An expression that said,
Yeah, that’s about right.

Keira sighed again. A few silent hours with this stranger, and she could understand him perfectly. She doubted she could read Drew that easily, and she’d known him for years.

Drew.

Damn. A kicked-in-the-gut feeling made her shiver once more, and the Mountain Man reached out a hand, but she waved him off.

“I’m fine,” she lied.

He raised an eyebrow.
Liar.

“I don’t care if you believe me or not,” Keira stated. Her eyes narrowed with an irritation to cover her embarrassment, and then she muttered, “I’m just not used to sitting nearly naked in the snow.”

He chuckled—a low, attractive sound that warmed her inexplicably—sat back on his heels and waited. Those piercing gray eyes of his demanded answers, and Keira found herself wanting to tell him the truth.

Her job as a child and youth counselor had given her the ability to form good, quick judgments. And something in this man’s handsome face made her think she could trust him.

Handsome?

The descriptor surprised Keira, and if her blood had been pumping through her body properly, she might’ve blushed.

Because yes, he
was
handsome.

He had full lips, an even brow and in spite of his facial hair, he had strong features. Keira was close enough to him that as she realized just how attractive he was, her heart fluttered nervously in her chest.

She was alone with him. In the middle of nowhere. She was injured. Maybe badly. And now she was remembering that glimpse she’d caught of his muscular torso when he’d stripped off his clothes so he could warm her up. Keira had been too out of it to think about it before. She was wishing she could see it again so she could memorize it.

What’s the matter with you?
she chastised herself.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d looked at a man like this. At least not long enough to notice how prettily translucent his eyes were, or how their wintry appeal so sharply contrasted with his burly frame. She certainly hadn’t come close enough to one to know how well his body fit beside her, or how comfortable it was to be in his arms.

No way could Drew come close to this kind of magnetism.

Mountain magnetism.

And he was watching her again, that same not-so-muted heat in his eyes.

Maybe he’s remembering the way
you
felt cuddled up beside
him.

That thought was finally enough to draw the color to her cheeks, and Keira could feel the heat spread from her face down her throat and across her chest. She was sure she must be the same shade of red as the borrowed coat.

In an attempt to ease the increasingly palpable tension between them, Keira shifted her gaze back to her smoldering car.

Midway between the vehicle and spot where she was sitting a black flash caught her eyes.

My phone.

She knew that’s what it was, and that she had to get it. And for some reason, she also knew that her benefactor—if his intentions were even good enough to call him that—wouldn’t let her just go grab it. Not willingly.

Butterflies beat against Keira’s stomach as she offered him a weak smile.

“Can you excuse me for a second?” Her voice was weak, even to her own ears. “I think I need to...uh...use the ladies’ room.”

* * *

G
RAHAM
NARROWED
HIS
EYES
and considered calling her bluff. He was sure whatever reason she had for suddenly getting up, it had little to do with the most basic of physical needs.

Graham had to admit that he was surprised she could stand at all. What surprised him more, though, was that she took off into the dark. The borrowed boots flew off, and she moved at a hobbling, barefoot run.

What the hell?

Graham was so startled that he almost forgot he should chase her down. He stared after her, a puzzled frown on his face. Her creamy legs poke out from under the big coat, as sexy as they were ridiculous.

She really should tuck those away before she ruined them with frostbite, he thought absently.

She glanced over her shoulder at him and stumbled forward a little farther.

Where the hell did she think she was going? Her ridiculous flight was going to run her straight into the thickest part of the forest. It was going to tear up those pretty little feet of hers. And was going to create unnecessary work for Graham.

First World, fugitive-about-to-turn-kidnapper problems.

Still, Graham might’ve been tempted to let her go a little longer if he hadn’t spied the wound on her thigh.

Dammit
, he growled mentally.

How had he not noticed the slash before?

Her movement across the snow opened up the cut, and even from a few dozen feet away, Graham could see the blood ooze out of it.

Belatedly, he jumped to his feet and strode after her, his long legs closing the gap between them.

In seconds, he was on her, and without preamble he reached down, wrapped his arms around her knees and threw her unceremoniously over his shoulder. She beat weakly at his back, but he ignored it.

“Let me
go
!” Her order was almost a squeal, and Graham ignored that, too.

He carried her across the ground like a sack of potatoes, and when he had her right back at the spot she’d run from moments earlier, he dumped her to the ground—not quite hard enough to hurt, but just hard enough for her to squeak.

He shot her a look that commanded her to keep still and, although her eyes flashed, she didn’t try to get up again. From the shallowness of her breathing and the deep flush in her cheeks, Graham doubted she
could
get up.

But as soon as he leaned back, she was off at a crawl.

If we were at the hospital
,
Graham thought,
I’d insist that an orderly strap her down.

For a moment, he considered calling after her.

No. Speaking to her will only create more issues. Make you slip up and give something away. Too much risk.

He watched her shimmy helplessly over the snow for another second—she barely got more than a few inches—then stretched out, closed a hand over one of her ankles and dragged her back.

He righted her, set her between his thighs and held her there.

Using his teeth, Graham tore his T-shirt into strips—one to bind her hands together, another to bind her feet together, and a third to stop the flow of blood from her thigh. She fought him on the first two things—and he couldn’t blame her for that—but when she finally spotted the wound, she stopped struggling.

Graham could feel her eyes following the quick, sure movements of his hands as he fashioned the stretchy cotton into a tourniquet. He was disappointed that the blood soaked through almost immediately. He tore off another strip from his T-shirt, bundling the wrapping as thick as he could and as tight as he dared.

The flow of blood ebbed, but she was going to need stitches, and Graham had nothing on hand that would do the job.

“Mountain Man?” Her voice was soft. “I’m really hurt, aren’t I?”

Graham nodded curtly.

She was silent for a minute, leaning her back into his chest. Then she shifted a little, tipping her head just enough that he could see her tempting, pink lips.

“I should warn you,” she murmured. “I’m not going to make this easy.”

Graham rolled his eyes. As if
that
surprised him.

In spite of her words, though, she turned sideways and settled her face against him. Then her eyelids fluttered shut, and her knees curled up as if she
belonged
in his lap.

With a frustrated groan, Graham tried to ease away, but the sleeping girl wriggled closer and then she murmured something else, and instead of trying to disentangle himself from her, Graham found himself straining to hear what it was. He tucked the coat over her legs and leaned down, pressing his face close to hers.

She shifted in his lap, and her lips brushed his ear.

Graham’s body reacted immediately. Desire shot through him, and his grip on her tightened.

Slowly, he untied her wrists. He breathed out, waiting for her to wake up, realize she was free and level a punch at his face. Instead, she flexed one free hand, then slipped it up to his shoulder, her thumb grazing his collarbone.

Graham groaned and crushed down the ridiculous longing coursing through him.

A lock of auburn hair slipped to her cheek. Graham reached to brush it away reflexively. When his hand slid against her cheek, he realized the heat he felt could be blamed on more than just desire. Her skin was hot to the touch, and though her face was still pale, two spots of pink had bloomed in her cheeks.

Graham frowned and placed the back of his hand on her forehead, then trailed a finger down her face. Yeah, she was definitely far warmer than she ought to be.

He needed to get her somewhere safer, cleaner and functional enough for treatment. The clinic in the resort town was out of the question. Anywhere public was.

Home.

It was the best option.

Graham glanced up at the sky. The sun had completely set, and the sky was pitch-black. Travel now would be dangerous.

More dangerous
, he corrected silently.

The climb down was steep, and he would have to carry her. Graham had no idea how long he’d be able to do that.

He looked back to the girl.

He didn’t have any other choice.

Whatever circumstance had brought her to him, she was still in need of medical care, and however long ago it had been, Graham still held fast to his oath.

First do no harm.

Chapter Five

The ground beneath
Keira was moving. It thumped along rhythmically like a conveyor belt made of nearly smooth terrain. It was soothing. Almost.

A sudden bump jarred her and sent her head reeling. Her eyes flew open, and the world was upside down. She realized it wasn’t the ground that was moving. It was
her
. Them.

The big man had her cradled in his arms, and he was traveling across the snowy ground at an alarming speed. She could see the bottom of his bearded chin. His neck was exposed and a sheen of sweat covered it. His breathing was a little heavy, but he seemed oblivious to her added weight.

“Excuse me?” Keira’s voice was far weaker than she wanted it to be, and if he heard her, he didn’t acknowledge it.

She struggled to right herself, the quick pace making it difficult for her to do more than lift her head. All she could see was sky.

She blinked, and the sky stayed. The expanse of it was so big above her that it was almost dizzying. No moon. No stars. Just a solid spread of grayness. Keira closed her eyes to block it out as she tried to orient herself.

The big, red jacket was still wrapped around her, cinched at the waist and tied at the throat. A scarf was wound tightly around her head, insulating her face as well as her skull. The Mountain Man had used the white fur to cover both her feet and her legs. She wasn’t in danger of freezing anymore, though the terrible cold she’d felt right before slipping into oblivion wasn’t completely gone.

She felt weak. Really weak. She sought something tangible to grasp at in her sea of straw-like thoughts.

Wrists tied together.
Not that.
Blood.
No.
The smoky, woodsy scent of the Mountain Man’s skin.
Definitely not.

And at last she found something.

My phone.
Yes.

She’d managed to grab it in her stumble across the snow. She’d shoved it into the coat pocket just seconds before the Mountain Man caught her and hoisted her over his shoulder, caveman-style.

Was it still there?

She desperately wanted to reach into the coat to find out.

But right that second, her hands—which were no longer bound together, she noted—were actually
under
his shirt, pressed into his nearly rock-hard chest. And there was no hope of drawing away with any chance of subtly. Her fingers fluttered nervously, and even though he didn’t react, Keira was sure the stranger’s pulse jumped with the movement.

Curiosity fueled her to see if she was correct.

She uncurled her fingers slowly and moved her palm up, just an inch. The big man’s heart was already working hard with exertion, but there was no mistaking the double beat as her hand came to rest on his sternum.

Oh.

Keira moved again, and this time she couldn’t tell what was more noticeable—
his
heartbeat, or
hers.
Because she was definitely reacting to the way his skin felt under her hand, and the tightening of his arms didn’t help, either. A lick of heat swept through her, and her light-headedness increased, too.

Focus on something else
, she told herself.
Think of Mom and Dad. Think of work and the kids who need you. Think of Drew.

But right that second, she couldn’t even quite recall what Drew looked like. When she tried, his features blurred away, and the rugged looks of the unnamed Mountain Man overtook her mind instead.

Ugh.

Keira was
not
the kind of girl who rebounded from the idea of a marriage-potential relationship into the arms of a grunting, hulking man straight out of a hunting magazine.

Well. Not figuratively anyway.

Because she
was
quite literally wrapped in his firm grip, her head pressed into the crook of his arm.

Just how long had the Mountain Man been carrying her? And to where?

“Hey,” she called, happy that her voice was a little louder.

But she still got no response. She tried again.

“Mountain Man?”

He didn’t slow.

“Hey!” This time, she said it as loudly as she could manage, and from the way his grip tightened on her, Keira was sure he’d heard her.

But he still didn’t acknowledge her directly.

Stubborn.

With a great deal of effort, she wiggled an arm free from inside the jacket, snaked it out and yanked on his beard.

He drew in a sharp breath, snarled and released her. Keira tumbled to the ground. Hard. Her back hit the snow, nearly knocking the wind out of her.

He looked down at her, regret in his gray eyes made visible by the moonlight behind him. Except then she opened her big fat mouth.

“You jerk! You dropped me!”

His expression tightened and he rolled his eyes.

Yeah, you think this is
my
fault, don’t you?
Keira thought.
Well, I didn’t ask for the car accident. Or for the damned moose.

“And I especially didn’t ask for you and the stupid beard,” she muttered.

He reached for her, concern evident on his face, and she shuffled backward along the snow.

“What?” Keira said with a head shake that made the world wobble. “You’re worried about me because I don’t want to be manhandled? I’ve got news for you. Non-forest-dwelling women have high expectations nowadays. No way are you getting those Sasquatch hands on me again. Not unless I ask you to.”

She colored as she realized how that sounded. And she strongly suspected that underneath that beard, he was trying to cover a sudden smile.

“Jerk,” she muttered again.

He crossed his arms over his wide chest and gave her an expectant, eyes-narrowed glare. Silently daring her to stand up on her own.

“Yeah, I will,” Keira snapped.

She pushed both hands to the ground and came to her feet. Rocks dug into her skin. Ice bit at her toes. And worse than that, her head was spinning again.

There was no way she was going to be able to walk more than a few feet. But there was also no way she was going to admit it to the smug Mountain Man.

And sure enough, his expression definitely said,
You need me.

No way was she giving in to
that.
No matter how true it might be.

Keira straightened her body, grimacing as pain shot through her pretty much everywhere. In particular, her thigh burned, and she had to resist an urge to lift the jacket and have a closer look. Instead, she made herself meet the Mountain Man’s stare.

“Where to?” she asked through gritted teeth.

He shrugged, then pointed to the black horizon.

“Great!” Keira said cheerily.

She had no idea what she was looking at. Or for. Vaguely, she thought again that she should probably ask him what he intended to do with her. But she was feeling rather stubborn, and the longer she was on her feet, the foggier her head was getting.

The Mountain Man stood still, watching her as she took two agonizing steps. He probably would’ve watched her take even more, except he didn’t get a chance to. Because the world swayed, and Keira was unexpectedly on her rear end, staring up at the sky, transfixed by the few stars that managed to shine through the snowy sky.

Apparently, her little nap in the Mountain Man’s arm hadn’t done much of anything to renew her energy.

And now he was standing in front of her with that frown growing deeper with each heartbeat.

As he stared, Keira
did
begin to feel warm. But it had nothing to do with the weather or the accident, or anything at all that she could pinpoint.

Except maybe just...
him
.

Keira swallowed a sudden thickness in her throat and forced herself to look away.

Immediately she wished she hadn’t, because the first thing that her eyes found was the fabric that had been wrapped around her thigh. When she’d struggled futilely to escape, it had slipped off and fallen into the snow. Keira frowned at it. It
had
been a light color, grayish or tan, it was hard to say which. But now it was dark.

Blood.

Instinctively, she knew that’s what it was. And not just any blood.
Her
blood. Lots of it.

She brought her slightly floppy arm up so she could feel her leg.

Yep. It was damp and sticky. No wonder she was so woozy. And no wonder the Mountain Man had been in such a hurry.

She sat there for a long second, then sighed in defeat.

“Hey, um, Mountain Man?”

He raised an eyebrow and looked down at her.

“So, yeah,” she said. “I’ve decided we’re not going to get very much farther if you stop carrying me.”

His brow furrowed for one moment, then a wry chuckle escaped from his lips, and he plucked her from the ground as if she weighed nothing. But he only carried her for another minute. She looked at the run-down cabin that appeared before them. It screamed “horror movie.”

They’d reached their destination.