Bad Duke

by Emily Bishop

  It’s not that long of a walk, and a clearing opens up to another cabin, not so different from Lorn’s. He stops in front of the porch steps and turns to face me. In the cold, his cheeks have gone rosy, his eyes bright and glassy. This morning they look more green than brown.

  Why does he have to be so damn attractive?

  “I take it you can handle yourself from here?”

  I nod and grab the handle of my suitcase. I carry it the rest of the way to my new front door for the next month and turn to look down at Lorn. It’s a new angle, being above him, and I kind of enjoy the sensation of having the higher ground.

  “Where is the main cabin from here?” I ask.

  “There’s a map in your cabin of the entire range, but if you head down that trail there, you’ll see it.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Yep.”

  There’s a heavy silence where our kiss and any number of hidden things hang in the air between us. I turn and open the door and step in side, closing it behind me without another glance at Lorn.

  It’s better that way.

  Still, I press my back against the portal and listen for him to walk away. I hear nothing, but that’s not so unusual, I suppose. He may be large, but he seems perfectly able to use stealth in the woods.

  I tell myself I’m glad he’s out of my hair. Now I can focus on what’s important.

  The cabin is cold. I step back out and grab a few logs for my woodstove, noting Lorn’s absence. I place the logs into the stove and find a match and some kindling stored next to it, possibly from the previous tenant, possibly as a courtesy. Who knows?

  I light the kindling and stoke the fire until it sustains itself, and then I step back, proud of myself.

  I can so do this.

  I drag my suitcase to the bedroom. It’s cold in here, too, and I’m hopeful that the fire works its magic soon. I lay the suitcase flat and unzip it. When I open the flap, the picture of my father rests atop a pile of neatly folded clothing.

  “Hey, Dad,” I breathe. A small puff of steam escapes my lips, it’s so cold. I take the picture in my gloved hands and sit back, staring at the image. In it, my father is young, his blond hair slicked back and his face frozen in a blissful smile. I like to remember him like this.

  My last memory of him surfaces, as it so often does. I remember holding my breath, my heart frantic as I hid beneath his desk. The argument that happened right before the gun went off. My father falling to the ground. Those eyes…

  I was twelve years old when I witnessed my father’s murder. I was forced to take the stand against the man who killed him and became the reason that man went to jail. Larry Corker, my father’s murderer, had been angry that my dad put his brother in jail for domestic assault.

  Now, eleven years later, Larry’s been released on good behavior, and I have to figure out what the hell I’m going to do. I’ve changed my last name, which is something, but I’m not convinced that’s enough. I have a feeling, deep down, that Larry will come for me, that he’ll want his revenge for his brother and for himself, because my father stood up to them and forced them to face justice.

  I release a sigh and start unpacking. I have time to figure this all out. I’ll find a solution out here in the safety of the remote. When I finish placing the last of my clothing in the dresser, I’m no longer chilled. The fire in the other room is healthy and pumping out heat, so I close the stove door and allow it to do its thing.

  I pull out my cell phone and plug it in. I need to check my email and make sure the world isn’t falling apart in my absence. Maybe a little distraction wouldn’t be so bad, either. I need to stay tied to my world, the one I created for myself after my father’s death.

  It’s the one thing that’s kept me sane all these years.

  I open up my screen and flip to the Wi-Fi, only to find that one doesn’t exist.

  Seriously?

  I tap out then tap back in, refresh, try to find any form of internet connection, all to no avail.

  Looks like I’ll have to go find that mountain man again, after all. Or at least someone at the main cabin to help. It doesn’t need to be him. Actually, it’s probably better if it isn’t him.

  Already dressed for the outdoors, I step back outside into the sunny morning and start my path through the snow. Lorn pointed to a path straight ahead, so I take it, my boots caked with snow as I walk. By the time I reach another clearing, I already feel calmer. Being in nature might be better than medication. I’ll have to look into this.

  There is a steep decline, as Lorn described, and the main cabin is noticeably larger than the others, more like a community center. I step gingerly down the path, watching for any slick patches until I reach the bottom and head right for the front entrance. I open the door, which is unlocked, and step inside.

  It’s absolutely boiling in here.

  The building has a large open space. There’s a massive stone fireplace in one corner, surrounded by cozy-looking sofas. Another room has games—pool tables, foosball, a few bar games and decks of cards.

  “Hello?” I call out.

  There is no response. A noise scuffles in another room, so I decide to follow it, even as apprehension tickles the back of my neck. There’s another noise followed by a curse, and I instantly recognize that voice.

  Nothing to fear here.

  I open a back door and reveal a large kitchen. On the floor with a tool in his hand is Lorn, shirtless. I swallow, my throat quite parched. His abs ripple as he leans up to attach what appears to be a broken oven door. I notice across his shoulder a massive tattoo of a melting clock, above which the words Die Standing are inked in black on his skin.

  Die standing? What’s that about?

  My gaze leaves that spot and lands once again on his solid, sturdy abdomen, and I know it now.

  I’m not going to be able to resist this guy.

  Chapter Six

  Lorn

  I twist in the last screw to fix the oven door and slide it up. It moves seamlessly, without a squeak, and I know I’ve got it fixed.

  Only then do I look up at Rayne.

  I know she’s been watching me. I could hear her call out. Part of me hoped that she would get no response and leave.

  Should have known better with this woman.

  Her green eyes are watching me with a heat I recognize. I haven’t seduced a woman in a long time. I don’t plan to now. Still, I can have a little fun with this one. I don’t know why I want to. I shouldn’t. I should know better. But those eyes have captivated me, and I want to play.

  I’ve been alone for too long.

  I sit up and brush my knees before standing, then I face Rayne. Her eyes bore into my chest, and I fight back a knowing grin.

  She wants me. How long has it been?

  A dark thought dances across my mind. Does she want me, or does she want the package I come with? How much does this woman know that she’s not willing to admit? I can’t allow myself to be fooled by another pretty face.

  I can’t fathom going through that again.

  “Can I help you?” I ask.

  That gets her attention. Her gaze shoots up to mine, and I’m tempted to remind her that my eyes are up here, but I restrain myself. I don’t need to throw jokes around. Let her get what she needs and be gone, for all I care.

  “The Wi-Fi doesn’t work,” she says.

  I blink.

  “The Wi-Fi? Why do you need an Internet connection here?”

  She places her fists on her round, perfect hips. Oh my god, I can see my teeth sinking into them before I lick my way a little further south. With her hands like that, her jacket has slid up her arm, revealing a tattoo on the inside of her wrist.

  Cash.

  That’s what she has inked on her skin. Cash. I should have known.

  “Because I still run a business. I might want to get away, but things still have to function.”

  I laugh, and I can tell she’s annoyed by that. Good.

  Desire clou
ds the mind. Desire leads to bad decisions, bad judgment.

  Desire leads to pleasure, too.

  Somehow, after all this time, I’d forgotten that. My body hasn’t, though. Even as she glares at me, her perfect lips remind me of the kiss we shared, and I crave another.

  I crave so much more.

  “That may be so, but you picked the wrong place to stay connected to the world. We don’t do Wi-Fi here. We market ourselves specifically on being unplugged. If you want to check on things, there’s a landline at the main desk in this building that you’re welcome to use at any time.”

  “A landline?” she says, her voice laced with disdain.

  “Yeah. It’s a phone that doesn’t lose service when you need to make a phone call. A phone call is when you pick up the phone and hold it to your ear instead of looking at it, then speak with the person on the other line like a human being. You might remember such a device from long ago.”

  I can’t help my sarcasm, but this woman is entitlement itself, and I like knocking her down a few pegs. To my surprise, her lip curls into a tiny smile.

  “I’ve heard of such an ancient device, though, of course, it’s been decades since I’ve used one, personally.”

  “You should try it sometime. I should mention that the landline isn’t our main attraction here. You are beneath some of the most beautiful mountains in the world. There is a stunning lake a few minutes’ hike away. Read a book. Go for a hike. Be present in the world you are in. This is a getaway. Get away.”

  She hesitates, as though considering my words carefully. “I suppose I could enjoy the scenery a bit, but I wouldn’t know where to begin. Which direction is the lake?”

  I’m not going to get away from this woman. She’s practically a helpless baby out here, and who am I to not step in and help where help is needed?

  I’m sure I won’t even notice the way her hips move from side to side as she hikes ahead of me. I’m sure I won’t imagine how it would feel to bend her over and slide my dick right into her warm center.

  Nope. Not thinking about it at all.

  “Come on.” I reach for my shirt and slide into it, and I don’t miss the look of disappointment that washes over Rayne’s face as I do. She hides it fast, but I caught it. I’m not the only one in this boat, and I think we might end up getting ourselves into trouble.

  “Where?” she asks.

  I slide my jacket over my shoulders and zip it up. My gloves are in my pocket, and I grasp them and slide them over my fingers.

  “You can’t go hiking around here by yourself. You made that perfectly clear when you first got here, and I don’t feel like hunting for you all night in the cold woods.”

  “Did anyone ever tell you you’re a terrible host?”

  “No one has. Ever.”

  “They lied by omission.”

  I clear my throat and prop open the front door then make a grand gesture with my hand toward the exit. “My dear lady, would you do me the honor of allowing me to escort you about the lake, so that I may show you the grand splendor of our beautiful surroundings?”

  My ploy works, and she grins as she walks out the door, her head held high like a queen.

  “It would be my honor, of course. You are ever the gentleman, Lorn.”

  “Now don’t go accusing me of things like that. I’ve got a reputation to protect.”

  “A reputation for being a wild mountain man roaming the woods alone?”

  “Yes.”

  “Your secret is safe with me, hermit.”

  She saunters ahead, and I watch her. I can’t stop myself. My eyes are glued to her ass. I want it. I want it nestled against me. I want to taste her skin and pull her apart and slide in and out and pleasure her until she screams my name.

  “You coming?”

  Oh, dear lord.

  “Yes,” I say. If only she knew the direction of my thoughts, she wouldn’t have asked such a question.

  I’d like to be coming in a different way.

  I shake the lustful thoughts from my mind and join her. She has no idea which way to go, but she walks on as though she does. I point her in another direction, and together we march through the frozen woods, the world still quiet around us. Our boot steps crunch on snow that isn’t as thick as I thought it would be. The storm didn’t do that much damage. Shit, hopefully she doesn’t think bringing her to my cabin was some type of… ploy.

  “I do think this is therapeutic,” she observes.

  “What’s that?” I shake the confused thoughts out of my mind.

  “This,” she says, gesturing to the world around us. “Being in nature, enjoying the silence. The fresh air.”

  “I agree. It is deeply therapeutic.”

  “Do you meditate out here?”

  I consider her question. I’ve never been particularly spiritual one way or another, but nature does have a presence about it that makes one feel more connected to the earth, the way it was meant to be experienced.

  “In a way,” I answer. “I spend my mornings in quiet solitude, often reading, which I consider a form of meditation, depending on the topic of the book.”

  “So, like, when you read Pride and Prejudice, you focus on how Mr. Darcy needs to come to terms with his own snobbery, and that makes you feel at peace with the world?”

  “You’re teasing me.”

  “Well done, you’ve made a correct observation.” She looks up at me and smiles. Her nose and cheeks are a rosy shade of pink from the cold, and she is adorable. My shoulders relax as I start to feel comfortable, then I catch myself.

  Don’t fall for it, Lorn. Don’t.

  “Do you read a lot of fiction?” she asks.

  We stroll on, and I shake my head.

  “Not really. I stay in touch with the outside world by reading biographies and nonfiction, some poetry when I’m feeling esoteric.”

  “And do you often feel esoteric?”

  “I don’t know. I pulled that word out of the air. Sounded deep though, didn’t it? Like a poet.”

  “I don’t think all poets are that deep, if I’m honest.”

  “I don’t either. Sometimes it reminds me of modern art, where someone can paint a square and for reasons I don’t understand, it’s called a masterpiece.”

  She laughs, and the musical sound echoes. I know we’re not far from the lake now. “Right? Every time I go to a modern art gallery, I feel like I’m at an elementary school art show, but people take it so seriously. Makes no sense.”

  “I agree. Bring me to the Louvre to admire the classics, the masterpieces of times past.”

  “Now you really sound like a poet. Maybe if I spend more time out here, I’ll start sounding like you,” she says.

  “Maybe. Until then, you should probably see this.”

  I’m excited to show her the view of the lake. I want her to love this place as much as I do. Why do I want that? Maybe I’m happy to have someone to share this with. It’s been mine alone for a long time.

  I step out into the clearing. Before us, a massive lake stretches to the base of the mountain range. Blue mountains tower above us, reaching up to the sky and capped with white snow. It’s like we’ve stepped into one of the pieces of art we were discussing, and I turn to look at Rayne’s expression.

  Her mossy eyes are wide with wonder. The lake is so clean and clear that the mountains reflect against their surface to create a perfect mirror image.

  “This is unbelievable,” she breathes.

  “It’s not. This is perfectly real, and a big reason why coming here is good for the soul.”

  “Yes, I can see that,” she says, still breathless. “Can we walk around the lake a bit?”

  “Of course,” I say.

  Her face is turned up to the sky. Damn, when was the last time she looked up from her phone to witness the world around her? It was part of the reason I left my own world behind. I wanted to be present in a place that wasn’t connected to seven billion other people.

  And, of course,
there were other reasons, far more terrible. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that people can’t be trusted.

  I gaze down at Rayne as she experiences this place for the first time—I might be wrong about that. Might there be a person on this earth that I can trust? Could that person be someone like Rayne?

  She meets my gaze and leans a little closer, as though she is entranced. The world around us is pure magic, and even I can’t resist the spell. I lower my head again and pull her close, capturing her lips with my own.

  They taste even better than I remember.

  Chapter Seven

  Rayne

  Lorn is everything that is right with the world.

  At least, when his lips sweep across mine, he is.

  In the back of my mind, there’s a little voice that reminds me that no one is worth putting myself at risk, but my body doesn’t care. All around us, the world is frosty and cool, but I’ve never felt hotter. Lorn is a furnace, and I press my body against him as I seek his warmth.

  The voice in my head gets louder.

  This is dangerous. I don’t know enough about this man to trust him in any capacity. My father’s killer could have hired him to seduce me, for all I know.

  Am I being overcautious? Can you be, when you know there’s a man out for your blood?

  My cautious mind wins out, and I gently push against Lorn’s chest. He steps back, puffs of steam coming from his nose as he works to calm down. I can’t blame him. My own heart is tap dancing in my chest, but I have to be stronger than this.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that again,” I say.

  He runs his thumb along his lip, and I’m tempted to throw myself right on top of him. The ground may be snow covered, by my need for him tells me that I don’t care if my ass goes numb. I would love for him to lay me down right here and spread my legs.

  It’s a curious thought. I’m not exactly the most adventurous person in bed. I’m no virgin. I’ve had boyfriends. I’ve had sex. It was never really… mind blowing. It was pleasant. Something that was part of a relationship, so I participated.

  I might be a bit of a greenhorn in that realm, too. I’d hate to embarrass myself more in front of Lorn. I’ve thrown myself at him twice in twelve hours already.