Seduced by the Mountain Man
Rugged Hearts
Winter
The mountain air is crisp, fresh, and…annoyingly invigorating. As I step out of the rental SUV, I adjust my sunglasses against the harsh afternoon sun, clutching the handle of my rolling suitcase. My sister Emma’s home—a rustic, cozy cabin on Devil’s Peak—is exactly as I remember: unpolished and wild, just like everything in this place. I’ve come here to visit her and the new baby, but I also need a break. Desperately.
Winning a major case back in the city should have been the peak of my career, but it’s left me feeling hollow. I needed a reset. Emma, of course, insisted that a week in the mountains would do me good. “You need to breathe, Winter,” she’d said, her voice thick with worry. “You need to be more spontaneous.”
As if I even know how.
“Winter!” Emma’s voice pulls me back to the present, and I spot her hurrying out of the cabin, her eyes bright and her newborn cradled against her chest.
“Emma,” I say, forcing a smile. I haven’t been the best at showing excitement lately. But as she hugs me, I feel a tiny bit of the tension in my shoulders ease.
“You look…like a lawyer.” She grins, her gaze trailing over my fitted blazer and black slacks. “Didn’t you bring anything more casual?”
“This is casual,” I quip, adjusting the strap of my designer purse. Emma rolls her eyes but doesn’t press the issue. She’s too happy, too glowing with new-mother warmth to let my stiff demeanor bring her down.
“You came just in time,” she says, bouncing her son gently. “Zane’s giving the toast at a wedding down by the river. I thought you might want to see it.”
“Zane?” I frown, trying to place the name.
“Slate’s brother,” Emma clarifies with a knowing smile. “The river guide I was telling you about. He’s the fun one, Winter. The one who’s going to help you learn how to let loose when I’m busy with this little nugget.” She refers to baby Beau in her arms.
I barely resist the urge to groan. But I let Emma drag me toward the river. If nothing else, it’s a good distraction from the constant buzz of my phone, reminding me of the life I’ve temporarily left behind.
When we reach the clearing by the river, I’m hit with the sound of laughter, the rush of water, and the sight of a crowd gathered around a broad, muscular man standing on a boulder, beer in hand. He’s holding court, his voice carrying over the babble of the guests, and he’s impossible to ignore.
Zane Warner.
Even from a distance, his presence is magnetic. Tall, tanned, and rugged, he’s the epitome of mountain-man sex appeal. His hair is a messy tangle of dark blond waves, and his grin is all confidence. The crowd hangs on his every word, and his laughter rings out like a challenge to the world.
Zane raises his beer in a mock salute. “To love, to adventure, and to never taking life too seriously!” he declares, earning a round of applause from the guests.
I roll my eyes, but there’s something undeniably captivating about him. The carefree charm. The ease with which he commands the crowd. And then his gaze lands on me, sharp and curious, as if he can feel me watching him. I snap my attention back to Emma, but not before I catch the hint of a smirk tugging at his lips.
Great. The last thing I need is a cocky, confident man making assumptions about me.
When Zane finishes his speech, he wades through the crowd, shaking hands and exchanging backslaps. Emma takes the opportunity to tug me forward. “Come on, let’s introduce you.”
“Emma, really, I don’t need a tour guide,” I protest, but it’s no use. She’s already calling Zane’s name, waving him over.
Zane strides toward us, his gait easy, his confidence evident in every step. Up close, he’s even more imposing. His eyes—dark and sharp, like a storm brewing—meet mine. The air thickens with an energy I can’t explain, and I straighten my spine, unwilling to let this man see even a hint of my discomfort.
“Zane, this is my sister, Winter,” Emma announces, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Winter, meet Zane Warner, the best guide on the Phantom River.”
Zane’s gaze sweeps over me, taking in my fitted blazer, my heels, my perfectly styled hair. “Well, well,” he drawls, a lazy smile spreading across his face. “Are you lost, or did someone dare you to wear that up here?”
I bristle. “It’s called dressing appropriately ,” I reply coolly. “Maybe you should try it sometime.”
Zane’s grin widens, clearly unbothered by my cold response. “I’d say I’m dressed pretty appropriately for a mountain wedding.” He gestures to his casual shirt and dark jeans. “But I’m not sure the mountain’s ready for you.”
His words are teasing, but there’s an edge to them—like a challenge. I refuse to let him get the upper hand.
“Well, I’m here for a break, not a fashion critique,” I say, crossing my arms.
Zane’s eyes twinkle with amusement, and he leans in slightly. “In that case, I’d be happy to help you with your break. You know, show you how to actually relax .”
“I’m perfectly capable of relaxing,” I insist, even though I’m not sure that’s true.
“Is that so?” Zane’s tone is light, but there’s a heat behind his gaze that makes my pulse race. “Because from where I’m standing, you look like you could use a lesson or two.”
The words are suggestive, and I’m not entirely sure if he means relaxation in general or something else entirely. I refuse to be flustered. “I think I’ll manage, thank you.”
Emma, sensing the charged atmosphere, grins wider. “Actually, Zane, I was thinking you could take Winter on one of your rafting trips. Show her a good time.”
Zane’s eyebrows shoot up, and his grin turns positively wicked. “I’d love to.” He looks straight at me. “What do you say, Winter? Ready for a wild ride?”
There’s something in his voice that makes my skin tingle, a mix of playfulness and raw masculinity that’s hard to ignore. But I’m not about to back down. “Fine,” I say, lifting my chin. “But I’m not interested in any more of your ‘lessons,’ understood?”
“Understood,” Zane replies, but his smirk suggests he’s not planning to be entirely obedient. “But I can’t promise you won’t have fun…”