Page 4 of Stranded
I stuff my cock back into my pants even though it’s gotten harder since she arrived. “You can turn around. This is the place. You weren’t meant to be here for another hour.”
She faces me again, swallowing hard. “Yeah, I miscalculated how long it would take from the airport. Turns out google maps doesn’t work right here.” Her cheeks are bright red, not because of the cold. “I’m sorry.”
I shake my head and grunt. “Where’s the other guest?”
Her jaw clenches, and a flash of rage ignites in her eyes. “Not coming. It’s just me.”
Holy shit.
It’s as if my prayers have been answered. A surge of relief and dark satisfaction courses through me.
She’s alone. It’s just me and Ivy. No boyfriend to play the protector. No one to hear her scream.
My grin must be as feral because her eyes widen, an unmistakable flicker of fear crossing her perfect face and stunning green eyes. I swallow down my excitement, the thrill of the hunt forcing my heart to pound against my chest like a drum.
“Good,” I say, my voice rough. “It’s more peaceful without company. Just the way the wilderness should be enjoyed.”
Her eyes search mine, seeking reassurance that she’s safe, but all my eyes will offer is the dark promise of what’s to come.
“We need to get you settled,” I continue. “There’s plenty of wood for the fireplace. I’ll show you how to keep it burning.” The metaphor isn’t lost on me. Once a mere ember, the fire inside me is now a roaring flame. One look at Ivy St. Clair, and I have no intention of putting it out.
Ivy’s bundled up in a pristine white parka, the fur-lined hood framing her face like an ethereal halo. Underneath the bulk of the coat, which isn’t zipped up, I can glimpse a tight-fitting sweater that outlines her voluptuous figure. It clings to her body like a second skin, accentuating every curve and contour.
Her legs are encased in dark denim, the jeans hugging her thighs and disappearing into knee-high, fur-lined boots. Her attire screams city girl, but the wildness in her eyes makes my blood run hot.
The way she holds herself is damn near intoxicating. Her vulnerability is a flame. I’m a moth drawn helplessly toward it. No woman has ever looked so out of place yet incredibly alluring. Ivy St. Clair is a vision, a tantalizing oasis in this frozen wilderness, and I find myself desperate to drink her in.
“Okay, lead the way,” she says.
I walk past her and inhale, drawing in her sweet scent of vanilla and frost-kissed pine. An exotic perfume that clings to her and invades my senses. It’s maddening, like her. She follows me obediently, her boots crunching in the fresh snow.
The cabin comes into view, and I watch her reaction. Her eyes widen, taking in the rough, hand-hewn logs, the stone chimney, the icicles hanging from the eaves like nature’s decorations.
I built this place with my bare hands, every log, every nail, a testament to my perseverance. A fortress in the wilderness, an escape from the ruthlessness of the world. And a way to protect the rest of the world from me.
Ivy’s brow furrows. “Do you live near here?”
I nod toward my smaller cabin a hundred yards away. “I live there.”
Her throat bobs. “I see. And you live alone?”
I wonder if my pretty angel wants to know if I’ve got a girlfriend. Maybe she liked what she saw and wouldn’t mind taking a ride. I push the idea from my mind and ignore her question. “Come on.” I trudge up the steps onto the porch and open the cabin's front door, walking into the foyer.
The fire is roaring in the hearth of the living room. The contrast in temperature from the outside is immense.
Ivy sighs appreciatively and shrugs off her coat, allowing me to see her gorgeous figure. “It’s as beautiful as it looked in the photos. And as cozy as I’d hoped.” She flashes me a beautiful smile.
“Why isn’t your boyfriend here?” I ask.
“We broke up.” She holds her head high.
“It’s not exactly the right place for a girl alone. And we’re expecting to be snowed in over Christmas.” I tilt my head, wanting to give her an out. “You sure you don’t want me to call you a cab and cancel the stay?”
She searches my eyes and then quickly shakes her head. “No, I’m exactly where I need to be this Christmas.”
I couldn’t agree more, angel.
“Well, welcome to the wilderness, Ivy,” I say.