Courting Carolina

by Chapman, Janet

  Kitty landed beside him with an ominous growl.

  Alec turned to stone, and Jane sat up straddling him to shove the wolf away as if it were a pesky pup. “Kitty, stop that. Alec was just being gallant, catching me when we fell so I wouldn’t get more bruises.”

  The wolf sat down, instantly contrite, and actually hung its head.

  Okay then, if that’s what the lady wished to believe then who was he to burst her bubble? Alec rubbed his face with his hands, partly to hide his smile but mostly so Jane wouldn’t see him run his tongue over his lips to savor her taste. But then he snapped his hands to her hips when she squirmed, and jackknifed upright as he lifted her off his groin. He plopped her back on the food locker, immediately stood up, and walked to the rear wall so she wouldn’t seem him tug on his pant leg.

  Yup, either dear old Daddy had every reason to be dictatorial or the woman was one hell of an actress. But the scariest thing was he was beginning to suspect that Jane didn’t even realize she was acting. It was as if she’d been playing an airhead for so long—for some arcane reason only she knew—that she’d forgotten she was strong and resilient and…well, not clueless.

  Damn, why did he always have to analyze people the same way he used to take apart every toy he’d ever been given to see what made it tick? That little habit may have served him nicely when he’d been serving his country, but it was hell on his love life.

  “You’ve had a rather eventful day,” he said, fiddling with his backpack until his jeans stopped feeling two sizes too small. He finally walked to his sleeping bag and picked it up along with the mat. “You must be tired. I’ll set you up in the back corner so you’ll be out of the breeze. Leave that, I’ll get it,” he added when he saw her hands trembling as she gathered her cut hair off the floor.

  She straightened. “But you only have one sleeping bag. Where are you going to sleep? How will you stay warm?”

  He shook out the bag and settled it over the dense camping mattress. “I’ll throw on my long johns and a jacket. Don’t worry, lass,” he said when he saw her stricken look. “I’ve camped out in a lot colder weather wearing a lot less. I’m used to roughing it.”

  “But when I asked to stay, I didn’t mean to take your bed!” She drew herself up to her full height—which was damn impressive. “I’ll dress in several layers of clothes and sleep…over there,” she said, pointing to the opposite back corner. “I can unpack everything and use my bags as a sleeping mat. And maybe you have an extra blanket?” She was wringing her hands at her waist now, and dropped her gaze to stare at his feet, her cheeks a dull red. “I’m sorry, Alec, I didn’t think this through.”

  He was standing in front of her in one stride, and smoothed back several tendrils of hair off her face. “But I did think it through before I agreed to let you stay,” he said with a warm smile. “And I’m not bruised from my nose to my toes. I swear, Jane, that once I’m horizontal I could sleep naked on a rock and not care.”

  Her eyes flared slightly, and her cheeks went from dull red to rosy pink.

  “However,” he said softly, “a sweet kiss from a beautiful woman would probably keep me warm all night.”

  One corner of her mouth lifted ever so slightly, and her eyes took on a bit of a sparkle. “You had all afternoon to figure out how to charm a kiss out of me, and that’s the best you could come up with?”

  Oh yeah, Jane Smith was all act. Loving that she stood almost tall enough to look him in the eyes, Alec gently pulled her into his embrace. “It was either that or simply steal a kiss,” he said quietly.

  She palmed his face in her hands, pulled his mouth to hers, and kissed him sweetly as she pressed her body against the length of his. Then she leaned away just enough to smile at him. “That was for saving my life today,” she whispered, just before she kissed him again—this time lingering a bit longer. “And that was for letting me stay.” She canted her head, her eyes glittering like emeralds in the lantern light. “Does my forwardness shock you, Alec?”

  “Not as much as it probably should.” He sighed. “But I’m fairly certain you’d learned your effect on men by the time you were two months old, and that you’ve spent every year since perfecting how to use it to your advantage.”

  Which she proved by pouting. “You make me sound manipulative.”

  “Nay, lass, I’m just stating a fact. And Miss Smith?”

  “Yes, Mr. MacKeage?”

  He merely arched a brow.

  Jane’s pout turned into a full-blown, saint-tempting smile again. “It would appear that while you were down at the water going through my belongings that I was going through yours, including the wallet you left in your wet jeans. So yes, Mr. MacKeage?”

  For the life of him, Alec couldn’t remember what he wanted to tell her. Not when she looked him directly in the eyes like that, her own eyes shining with amusement. So he simply kissed her. But where Kitty didn’t seem to mind if his lady was the one doing the kissing, the wolf apparently didn’t like it when men kissed her, and gave a warning growl low in his throat. Only this time instead of scolding her pet, Alec felt Jane’s lips smile against his.

  Nope, there wasn’t one clueless bone in the woman’s body.

  Which was why, not half an hour later, Alec lay on the plank floor on the opposite side of the shelter with Kitty stationed between them curled up against Jane’s side, hating to ask about something that had been bugging him all day but really needing to know. “Were you raped, Jane?”

  “Of course not.”

  He lifted his head. “Why ‘of course not’? You make it sound as if the thought never even crossed those bastards’ minds.”

  “It probably didn’t, likely because they were too greedy.”

  “Excuse me?”

  He heard her sigh. “They didn’t want to devalue me because they wanted to get as much money from my father as they could.”

  “Excuse me,” he repeated in a growl, sitting up to glare into the corner. “What in hell do you mean devalue you? Are you saying they were afraid your father would have paid less for…soiled goods?”

  She also sat up. “In my world, an unmarried woman’s value is in her chastity.”

  “Are you serious?”

  He saw her chin lift. “Producing heirs is very serious business. Wars have been started over a man discovering that he just married…soiled goods.”

  “Where in hell are you from?”

  She lay back with another sigh, and he saw her give a negligent wave. “The whole world is my home.” He sensed her smiling, or maybe heard it in her voice when she said, “But at the moment I am content to be tucked safely in this beautiful corner of it with you.” She gave a loud yawn behind her politely raised hand. “Good night, Alec.”

  He flopped back against his duffel bag with a muttered “good night,” confounded but not really all that shocked. He knew there were entire cultures still clinging to the antiquated notion that women were commodities, the most blatant offenders often being wealthy business tycoons who built their dynasties on power marriages. For the love of God, was Jane’s father one of those men? No wonder she was reluctant to go home, if dear old Daddy saw her only as an asset instead of a grown woman with a mind of her own. Hell, now there was a man he wouldn’t mind burying under— Wait; did that mean Jane was a virgin?

  Seriously? The woman was thirty. And in this day and age, thirty-year-old virgins were as rare as…well, as real princesses.

  Damn. Jane’s sexy little lace panties had just turned into a chastity belt, and the next few days had just turned into his worst nightmare. And here he thought the storm gods didn’t have a sense of humor, when what could possibly be funnier than gifting a horny red-blooded male with a beautiful virgin.

  But it was just as he was finally drifting off to sleep that Alec remembered the lone condom in Jane’s jewelry pouch, and he snapped open his eyes when that warning alarm went off in his gut again. Was Jane planning to trump dear old dictatorial Daddy by devaluing his most lucrati
ve asset before he could marry it off?

  Well, Christ Almighty; if his worst nightmare of having a beautiful woman all to himself and not being able to do anything about it had just come true, he was damned well making sure the kiss-bestowing princess suffered right along with him.

  Chapter Three

  The salacious dream-turned-nightmare began at dawn the next morning when Alec cracked open his eyes just enough to see Jane crawling out of her sleeping bag wearing only his T-shirt—she apparently hadn’t had room to pack pajamas—looking so damned sexy, he just barely bit back a groan. She held a finger to her lips—that he now knew tasted as sweet as they looked—signaling the wolf to be quiet as she tiptoed to her larger satchel. Alec watched her take out a pair of fire-engine red panties and slowly slip them up those really long legs, then wiggle into a pair of jeans that looked painted on by the time she finished fastening them. She sat down on the food locker and pulled on socks, then glanced over to make sure he was still asleep and quietly put on her boots. She grabbed a matching bra and heavy sweater out of the satchel, and he actually stopped breathing when she started to lift the hem of the T-shirt but stopped in mid-lift with another glance in his direction.

  Damn, she didn’t quite have the courage, and he started breathing again when she tucked the bra and sweater under her arm and quietly walked down the shelter’s steps. After looking around, she stood with her eyes closed and her face bathed in the rising sun long enough that he stopped breathing again. She finally headed toward the outhouse hidden in a stand of young spruce trees fifty yards up behind the lean-to, Kitty dutifully trotting ahead to run interference against any lingering night critters.

  Alec sat up and rubbed his hands over his face with a muttered curse. What, exactly, had he gotten himself into? Because other than spending the next few days walking around in pants that felt two sizes too small from watching Jane walking around in her too-tight pants, he was pretty sure he’d be spending more time babysitting the woman than working.

  That is, unless he put her to work, too.

  Yeah, he should be able to find something the princess could do to earn her room and board. Nothing too strenuous that might cause her to chip a nail or anything, but maybe she could fetch him water, hold the end of the measuring tape, and hand him tools. Stuff like that. He was just warming up to his plan when he remembered the cut on her thigh and her tender foot from running in one shoe, and stood up with a sigh. Maybe she could sit by the stream he was prepping for the bridge and read. First, though, he supposed he should feed her before Jane started equating him with her kidnappers.

  “You’re up,” she said in surprise as she rounded the side of the shelter—carrying his T-shirt rolled around her red bra, he couldn’t help but notice.

  Now why hadn’t she put on her bra, and why did he have to be so damned observant? “Yeah, the sun woke me. You hungry?” he asked, opening the food locker.

  She gave a laugh. “Actually, I seem to still be full from last night, and I rarely eat first thing in the morning, anyway.” He watched her stuff the bra and T-shirt under her pillow before turning to him. “But I would be happy to fix you something. Do you have eggs? I make a very good omelet.”

  “You cook?” he blurted out before he could stop himself.

  Up went that chin—although it was accompanied by a derisive smile. “In the first month I was on my own, I discovered hunger is all the motivation needed to teach oneself to cook.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply that I thought you—”

  She laughed, cutting him off. “Of course you did, Alec. I surprised myself at how good a cook I’ve become.” She sobered. “Please, I want to earn my way this week by helping out however I can. I can do the cooking and keep the shelter organized, and I can even wash your clothes if you’d like.” Her smile returned. “But my first order of business this morning is to go down to the fiord and gather some sweet grass to make you a mattress, so you won’t have to lie on those hard planks tonight.”

  Was she seri— Whoa, a week? A few days had turned into a week?

  She crowded him out of the way and knelt in front of the food locker. “Go do your morning rituals as if I’m not even here,” she instructed as she started rummaging through what was left of his supplies. “I’ll have something cooked for you in no time.”

  “Thanks, but I usually only have cold cereal or trail mix in the morning. I don’t like working on a stomach full of heavy food.”

  She straightened and turned to him. “You have milk?”

  “No, I think I used the last of it two days ago. But they’re supposed to bring me supplies today when they bring the bridge.”

  She scrambled to her feet. “People are coming here today?”

  “No, they’re not coming here.” He pointed down the trail. “They’re bringing the bridge only as far as the falls, which is a quarter of a mile to the south. You don’t need to worry, Jane. The helicopter’s not even going to land, so if you simply hide in the trees while it’s hovering, no one will see you.”

  Her eyes widened in surprise. “They’re bringing a bridge by helicopter?”

  He nodded. “We figured the easiest way to build the infrastructure for the trail was for me to give the carpenters working on the resort the measurements, and for them to build the bridges and lean-tos and privies at the shop. Then they fly the structures here instead of lugging in the timber.”

  “And they just lower them down to you? But how do you set them in place?”

  “I guide them down and swing them onto the rock abutments I’ve built.”

  She clutched her throat. “You’ll stand under the bridge while it’s in the air?”

  “No, I’ll grab the rope dangling from it while the winch operator lowers it to me.”

  “Oh, I can’t wait to see that,” she said, clasping her hands together. “What an ingenious way to build a wilderness trail without hurting the wilderness. And they also lower whatever supplies you need?”

  “Yup,” Alec said with a grin, her smile contagious. “So if there’s anything you need, I could have them bring it on their next trip. Except…ah, female stuff, because that might be a little hard for me to explain.” He felt heat creeping up the back of his neck and turned and headed down the stairs. “If there’s something you absolutely have to have, I can make a boat trip into town one of these evenings.”

  “Alec,” she called out, making him stop and turn to her. “Thank you for being so accommodating,” she said, her own cheeks turning slightly pink.

  “My pleasure, lass. Why don’t you pack yourself anything ye might want for the morning? You can use that smaller backpack hanging on the rear wall. Also put the satellite phone in it, would you? And you might want to bring your iPad, in case you don’t find watching me shovel dirt to be all that interesting.”

  “But I want to help you.”

  “You can’t. Not with that cut on your leg and bruise on your side.”

  “But there must be something I can do. Oh, your mattress; I can walk down to the water and gather sweet grass this morning.”

  “No, you can’t,” he repeated, grinning at her scowl. “Someone might see you. The entire fiord is crawling with tourist boats out looking at the colorful foliage and trying to spot whales and dolphins. And I wouldn’t be surprised if the sheriff shows up again today with state troopers in tow, trying to figure out what two men wearing street clothes were doing out here. But,” he conceded when her shoulders slumped, “I’ll give you clippers and you can cut some fir tips to make me a bed if ye want.”

  She grabbed the small backpack off the peg. “I’ll be ready when you get back,” she said, giving him a princesslike wave of dismissal.

  Not only was she ready, but she was standing in the trail waiting for him, her hair pulled into a ponytail, the backpack on her shoulders with all four canteens hanging off it, and that saint-tempting smile making another appearance when she saw him. She waited while he went to the lean-to and gathered up wh
at tools he needed, then fell into step behind him.

  Speaking of ponytails, he probably should give his own hair a trim, seeing as how it was nearly as long as Jane’s. Washing his face this morning, Alec had realized he hadn’t shaved in over a week, either. Hell, it was a wonder the woman hadn’t run screaming into the forest again when she’d awakened to find herself more naked than clothed, looking up at the hairy giant who’d undressed her. So he’d spent half an hour this morning shaving and trying to tame his own mess of dark blond hair before Jane decided to take her tiny scissors to him while he was sleeping.

  “Where’s Kit?” he asked over his shoulder, refusing to call the wolf Kitty any longer.

  “Probably hunting, as I think he prefers something more substantial than cereal for breakfast.”

  “Where did ye find him?”

  “I didn’t,” she said with a musical laugh, the sound sending a good number of blood cells straight to his groin. “Kitty found me. He just showed up on my doorstep one day and wouldn’t leave.”

  “Which doorstep would that be; the one in New York City or Monte Carlo or South Africa?”

  “I…I can’t remember,” she said after a long hesitation. She gave a soft snort. “I guess the bump on my head damaged a few memory cells. So, Alec,” she rushed on, “how long have you worked for the resort?”

  Okay then, it appeared they were going to talk about him. “I don’t, actually. I’m what you might call a ski bum from November to late April. My family owns TarStone Mountain Ski Resort over in Pine Creek. Have you heard of it?”

  “I have,” she said, sounding slightly out of breath.

  Alec immediately slowed down, contrite for having forgotten her sore foot. “In the summer and early fall I come to Spellbound to help my uncle, Duncan MacKeage, in his construction business. Duncan built a home across the fiord a little farther up from here two years ago, and he’s been doing the earthwork for Olivia and Mac Oceanus, who own Nova Mare. You know them?”