The Forbidden Mountain Man

by Bonnie Paulson

  After the flames caught and heat poured from the fireplace, I turned back to the woman. Her features were easier to discern in the light from the flames and I couldn’t help the unbidden desire to reach out and smooth the hair from the side of her face. Her soft skin was chilly to my touch.

  I had to get her warmer faster.

  Standing, I moved around the back of the couch, pushing it closer to the fire. Pulling the blankets from her, I scanned her form. Was there clothing I could take off or anything that might impede her warming up?

  I removed a large bag from her torso, leaning her up as I pulled the strap from her shoulder and back. It hit the floor with a soft plop. A jacket clung to her form as well, soaked through with rain. Peeling it from her arms was easier than pulling the cuffs over her hands. I removed her muddy shoes, setting them on the floor in front of the fire.

  Her dark hair tumbled about her shoulders in a wild array of unbound curls and as I pulled her onto my lap to get my body warmth working on part of her, I noticed the dark lashes resting on her cheeks and the curve of her lips above a strong but feminine chin. Her skin appeared pale but that wasn’t just from being cold. She had the obvious coloring of a member of an Italian family and she could have been from Little Italy or she could have been a random woman.

  The last thing I needed was to be distracted by a beautiful woman who smelled of cinnamon and rain.

  Heat bombarded us from the front while my body warmed hers. I cradled her like a large child across my lap and held the blanket in place to help keep the heat up.

  After a good fifteen minutes, her lashes fluttered and she moaned. Turning her head to the side, she slowly opened her eyes and looked up at me. Fear turned her lips down. “Can you hide me?” After searching my face for an answer, she succumbed to whatever had dragged her under in the first place.

  Could I hide her? Whatever she was running from was enough to terrify her and send her crashing through the raining forests of the dark and dangerous mountains.

  If her question was would I hide her, then yeah, I could assure her I would do my best.

  But could I hide her? I wasn’t even sure I could hide myself.

  Chapter 3

  Stephenie

  I wasn’t sure what woke me up. The warmth all around me, the steady rhythm of rain on a roof, or the fact that I was still alive were all distinct possibilities to having pulled me from a deathlike state.

  No. They would have contributed to waking me, but as I became more aware of my surroundings and myself, I could clearly define what woke me. The numbing chill had completely dissipated and all of the scrapes, bruises, and pain were willingly making themselves known.

  I groaned, as a tenderness in my palms and shins reminded me what I’d gone through only a few hours before.

  In all honesty, I had no idea what time frame I was looking at. Had it only been a few hours I’d thrown myself from my beloved Subaru and sacrificed it over the side of a cliff? How much later had I looked into the blue eyes of a man who could have been anyone and begged him to help me?

  How long had it taken for my body to recover enough from the exposure to the weather as well as the pain of my injuries to actually let me wake up?

  More importantly, as I became more aware of my situation, I looked around the inside of the building I was in. Where was I?

  Judging by the light from the flames in the fireplace, what I could see was the inside of a small log cabin. I’d been tucked into blankets on a well-stuffed leather couch with a throw pillow under my head. A kitchen area took up a third of the large room and a small card table with three chairs separated the kitchen and the living room from each other.

  Speaking to a masculine occupant, the furnishings were either leather or wood. Deer and elk head mounts adorned the walls and I avoided staring directly into their glass eyes. My nonnina had once said that you could see the soul of a creature through its eyes and when the eyes were fake, the soul was trapped.

  How many souls were trapped in that cabin, mine included?

  A small dampness clung to my clothing and I burrowed deeper into the blanket I’d been given. My bare arms were… wait, my bare arms? I was in a jacket when I slumped against the door to the cabin.

  Yanking the blanket down I sat up, staring at my appearance. Okay, my clothes were still on me except my coat and my shoes were gone. My socks were still in place. I suddenly felt like I couldn’t breathe. If they’d gotten my coat off, then they’d handled the bag.

  I patted my chest as if the strap might be hiding or something and I just couldn’t feel it, but it wasn’t there. Nothing made it appear. Nothing!

  My breathing went from fast to jagged. I looked around the room, searching for the tan leather bag I valued with my life. Maybe even my blue jacket would be draped over the bag and covering it, fine, I didn’t care. I just needed to find my bag.

  Dropping my feet to the floor, I swiveled my head side to side trying to see something, anything, that would tell me where I was, who had helped me, and where my bag was. What if whoever it was had my bag and knew who I was? What if they knew what I was going to do?

  I must have made a small sound because suddenly a very large, very attractive man stood at the end of the couch watching me with a mixture of curiosity and worry. His dark almost-amber hair had been cut close to his head with a slightly longer length toward his forehead. A strong jawline enhanced the angles of his face and set off the blue of his eyes like the perfect frame. Even his nose, while straight and noble, didn’t detract from the blue of his gaze but rather enhanced the sharpness to the aquamarine appearance.

  Why was I staring? I couldn’t stop staring and that calmed my breathing.

  “Are you okay?” His husky voice was like smooth whiskey poured over lava rocks. I blinked more at the appealing tone than the question.

  Once I realized he waited for an answer, I shook my head and swallowed. “I’m sorry, I… do you… I mean, did you take off my coat and shoes?” Rather than ask him directly where the bag was, lest I give him a clue to the bag’s importance, I opted for an indirect line of questioning. If he’d taken off my coat, then he would have had to take off the bag first.

  A slight smile curved his lips. “Yes, I did. At least I know you’re awake enough to talk. You had me worried there a bit when you wouldn’t warm up.” His face was familiar.

  “Do I know you? You look so familiar.” I studied him, narrowing his eyes as I tried to think of where that could have been.

  “Yeah, I was thinking the same thing. Do you remember waking up last night to ask me for help?” He arched a well-defined eyebrow and I glanced to the side, trying to remember if that’s where I had seen him before.

  After a moment of searching my memory, I shrugged. “It must be that. Thank you.” I glanced around the modest cabin interior and wrapped my arms around my knees, still not sure I was comfortable with being there with him, but grateful to have a place to lay low. After a minute, I nodded toward the door. “Do you know where my bag is? I have a cell in there I can use to get help.” I didn’t care about the phone. It probably wouldn’t even work out there, wherever there was.

  He hadn’t stopped staring at me and he cocked his head to the side. “Cells won’t work out here. I didn’t see a bag, are you sure you had one?” Was he testing me? Of course, there had been a bag. If he didn’t take it, then who had?

  Was he lying to me? He had no reason for that. He had no idea who I was or what was in that bag.

  I held my hands out in front of me, wincing at the scraped version of my palms. Nodding, I pushed myself to my feet and glanced at him. “Where are my shoes? I need to get back out there.” Before he could answer, I spied my tennis shoes by the fire. I’d never been a huge fan of heels and as I bent down to claim the dry shoes, I’d never been more relieved for my practical foot wear.

  “Go back out there? You barely survived the last time you were out there.” He moved closer to me, reaching out like he meant to corral me
inside and not let me out.

  An image crossed my mind of me lying on his lap and gazing up at him, begging him to hide me. A warmth rose in my chest and I realized this man had done more than just take off my coat. He’d saved me.

  Gratitude toward him warred with my need to get back outside. He’d saved me. I didn’t want to be rude or disrespectful toward him. I pressed the back of my hand against my mouth and closed my eyes, trying not to cry.

  “What’s wrong? Tell me. Maybe I can help you.” He reached my side, his nearness warmer than the fire a few feet from me.

  I dropped my hand and looked up at him, unable to come up with anything but the truth. “I need that bag. What’s in it could save my life.” I didn’t add that the information inside it could also get me killed. Why add on more stress to an already stressful moment? Nobody had time for that.

  He glanced at the fire and then back at me as if considering something that was more important than life or death. Was there something more important? I couldn’t think of anything. After a moment, he shook his head. “I’m not sure you’re ready to go back out in that. Is this thing that you need in the bag insulin or some other life-saving medication?”

  Closing my eyes, I tried to ignore the pull of his magnetism. It wasn’t fair for a man to be that good-looking in the wilds of Washington State. Why was he out there in the first place? Maybe he was a killer himself and now he wanted to keep me in the cabin to finish what the rain and those men in the cars started.

  Shaking my head, I turned back to the fire, intent on suffocating the pain in my shins and hands. If I pretended long enough, maybe the pain would go away. Or maybe I could wish it all away. “No. There’s no medication in there, although, there might be some Neosporin or bandages I could use.” I sighed and slumped back to the couch I’d temporarily claimed as mine.

  “Well, wherever the bag is at this moment, it’s not going to get up and disappear. You have some time to treat your wounds and get something to eat. Maybe the rain will let up a bit before we head outside to look for the bag. Does that sound good? How about some bacon and eggs?” He was so calm, so logical and he delivered the argument with such sound rationalism I couldn’t help but chuckle.

  “You’re so convinced your idea is the better one, you must be a lawyer.” I stood again, certain my legs were sore from all the walking and falling I’d done the night before.

  My host stiffened, staring at me as he tilted his head to the side. His hands clenched into fists.

  Was it something I’d said?

  Chapter 4

  Carter

  I turned away from the distractingly beautiful woman. I had to know her from somewhere, but where? She had distinct dark eyes that sucked me in and I never wanted to look away which meant I needed to look away as soon as possible.

  A lawyer. Her comment had so narrowly hit the mark. How did she know? It couldn’t just be a lucky guess. I moved away from her, in case my worry confirmed her guess.

  In the kitchen, I called over my shoulder, “Let’s eat first. How do you like your eggs…” I paused at the old avocado green fridge that reminded me of an aunt’s place I visited when I was a kid. Resting my hand on the elongated handle to the larger bottom door, I cocked my head to the side and then glanced at the woman still sitting on the couch. “You know, I never got your name.” I didn’t need a question mark. She’d know what I was asking.

  Pushing up from the couch, the woman moved toward me, smiling gently. “I’m Stephenie Rossi. I’d shake your hand, but…” She glanced down at her scraped up palms and then shrugged.

  I released the handle of the fridge and backed up, panic tearing through me. They’d found me. Swallowing, I held up my hands and searched the rest of the cabin, then craned my neck to see what I could see out the partially drawn curtains. A Rossi. There in the cabin.

  She slowed as she approached me, knitting her eyebrows as she stopped. “Are you okay?”

  My chest burned. Of course, she was a Rossi. When had they started involving beautiful women in their hunting and killing parties? I eyed her. I needed to get to the bedroom to get the gun I’d brought with me. Keeping my voice low, I tried to hide my fear. “How did you find me?”

  “What are you talking about?” Stephenie continued studying me like she had no idea what I was talking about. There was no way she didn’t know about me. Everyone knew about me and the trial coming up. Even people in New York had been covering the case, at least they had before I’d gone into hiding.

  I pointed at her with a sharp thrust of my finger, irritated that I found her so attractive even as she was sent there to off me. “You. You’re a Rossi. Why are you here? How did you find me? Are more coming with you? When will they be here?” I sidled around the kitchen, trying to get around her in case she pulled out a knife or something.

  Of course, I knew she didn’t have anything on her. I’d already checked. Her bag on the other hand could have anything in it, but I hadn’t had a chance to search through it for clues on who she was or what she was out there for. Since she’d freaked out over its absence, I was even more curious to figure out her secrets. Compound that with the revelation of her family and my curiosity had morphed into an all-out survival instinct to figure out just what she wanted.

  Suspicion darkened her expression and she whirled toward the door, rushing away from me. Was she going outside to call for her backup? Was the cabin surrounded? I couldn’t let her get out there to signal anyone. I had to survive the next three weeks.

  Keeping her a prisoner there with me might be my only option.

  Instead of heading toward the bedroom, I dashed forward, throwing my body against the door and reaching out my arms to catch her. I wrapped her in my hold, careful to make sure I didn’t hurt any of her already existing injuries. I didn’t know her and I had a very strong suspicion that she was there to harm me, but that didn’t mean I had to hurt her. There was no call for that.

  She struggled against me, her breathing ragged and desperate. Why was she fighting me so hard?

  “Stop. Just stop.” I waited until she calmed down enough to stare up at me from a few inches. She was taller than a lot of the Italian women I’d been in contact with which weren’t many. Her height put her hair closer to eye level and the cinnamon I’d smelled earlier reminded my senses that I’d been eager to smell more.

  Her lower lip quivered as she lifted her chin in defiance. “Now what? Are you going to kill me? Turn me over?” How could she feel so right in my arms and be so confusing?

  “What are you talking about? You’re here to kill me.” I considered her genuine fear in the wide eyes and shaking form. Wait, she really was terrified of me. My own panic ebbed and I reached up, tilting her chin even higher so I could inspect her features as I spoke. She winced, but didn’t pull away as if her pride prevented her from doing so. “Stephenie, if you’re a Rossi, then what are you doing clear out here?” Stephenie… that’s right. She was a daughter of The Rossi. She should be in her castle and perfect life, protected by unseen soldiers and the reputation of her father.

  Wariness made her flick her eyes to the side and then back to my face. “I got in a car accident up on Snake Ledge. I was being chased, so I came down the hill instead of trying to hitchhike home.” She swallowed, blinking amazingly long lashes that could have been fake except she wore no makeup and I could see the natural lines of her skin.

  “An accident?” That’s where she’d gotten some of her injuries. I hadn’t had a chance to treat very many of them, but she moved stiffly like she ached and hurt.

  She sighed and pulled away, as if just realizing then that she was intimately against me in my arms as I leaned against the door. “Who are you? You know I’m a Rossi. What’s your name?” She narrowed her eyes as if she could see my secrets if she stared hard enough.

  I studied her as she pulled from me and moved toward the couch again. She held her hands toward the fire, angled away from her and I could see the darkness of the scrapes
against the backdrop of her creamy pale skin.

  Did I tell her who I was? Or did I lie? There didn’t seem to be any point in denying who I was. She probably already knew and was just acting in that moment. I took a deep breath but didn’t move from the door in case she was trying to lull me into relaxing my guard.

  “Carter Johnson. I am a lawyer.” I cleared my throat and glanced down at my less than lawyerly attire. “Or I was.” Since everything had fallen apart, I no longer knew what I was. I couldn’t look past the trial to make plans. I had no idea if I’d be in prison, dead, or what which made it very difficult to have dreams.

  Stephenie glanced my direction, a thoughtful tilt to her lips. “I’m sorry. I should probably know who you are, judging by the way you know who I am, but I don’t. I know I’ve seen you somewhere before, but I can’t place it.” She didn’t seem perturbed by my name which seemed even more worrisome.

  How could she not know the name of her family’s lawyer?

  To be fair, how had I not recognized the daughter of a client? Of course, The Rossi had eight children, but I dealt with all of their names over the last few years since I’d replaced the last lawyer. How did I not have faces memorized? Except we were kept away from the family unless it was the sons being trained to take over.

  Rubbing my hands down my face, I shook my head. “Look, we…” I sighed. “We got off on the wrong foot. I’m out here to get away from… everything. It sounds like you have a reason to hide as well. Plus, your bag is somewhere and you need to find it, correct?” I leaned my head forward questioningly.