Possessive Mountain Man (Hot Mountain Nights #6)

Chapter 1

ONE

ELISE

The lie slips out as easily as taking another breath.

“Don’t worry, Daddy,” I say, watching the blizzard rage outside the cave’s narrow opening. “The storm isn’t that bad.”

The wind kicks up, howling through the trees and rattling the brittle branches.

Shut up , I silently hiss. You’re about to give me—and my lie—away to my very concerned father on the other end of the call.

“I have eyes, Elise. I can read a damn weather report,” he grumbles. “And the report says you’re smack dab in the middle of the worst summer blizzard central Alaska has seen in more than fifty years.”

“Well, ‘summer’ is the key word. It doesn’t usually snow here in June.”

Which is exactly why I decided to spend my summer off-grid in Alaska instead of picking any other time of the year.

After finally earning my doctorate in May, all I wanted was a break. Time to disconnect, reboot, and, heck, maybe even do a bit of writing—before I start teaching in the fall.

I’ve always wanted to go.

My dad has been telling stories of Alaska’s untamed beauty for as long as I can remember. He was stationed here a million years ago, and he comes back every August to visit his best friend from the Army.

But he never brought me.

It was his place. Maybe that's why I felt so called to come here. I wanted in on the secret. I wanted to know what was so special that kept him coming back for more. And so far, I have no regrets.

Even if I'm now stranded with minimal supplies while a freak blizzard rages around me. Of course, history had to be made while I was out on a hike.

It’s a real pain in the you-know-what living in unprecedented times.

“It’s not safe out there,” Dad says, his voice tense.

“I know,” I admit at last, with a sigh. “But, good news: I found some shelter to hunker down in until it passes.”

“Shelter.” I can practically see his brow furrow from a thousand miles away. “What do you mean by shelter? You aren’t in your cabin?”

“I was out for a hike.”

“Elise.”

“It’s really not that bad.” I give a quick glance around the cave I’ve taken cover inside trying to come up with more words to describe it in a way that won’t have my dad chartering a helicopter. “It has three stone walls. Sturdy infrastructure. Built to last.”

“Hmm. Three stone walls. What about the fourth?”

I glance back out at the opening. “It offers panoramic views of the wilderness.”

There’s a beat of silence. “Does it have a door?”

“Does it have a door?” I scoff as my eyes dart around the space again, looking for something—anything—that I can use to create a makeshift door so I don’t have to do even more lying.

I come up short.

“I swear, it’s perfectly safe in here,” I say. “I’ll stay safe—and warm—until this all blows over. I promise, I’ll stay put.”

“You’re damn right you’re staying put,” he says. “I’m sending someone to get you.”

I sit up straighter against the stone wall at my back. “Dad, no. I don’t need a rescue party. I’m fine.”

“You won’t be fine if you freeze to death.”

“I hardly think I’ll freeze—” A fresh gust of swirling wind blows through the cave’s mouth, bringing in a whirlwind of ice and dust with it.

“Elise Marie,” my dad’s voice takes on a hardened edge I haven’t heard since I broke curfew one night in high school. “You may not want to be rescued, but you’re going to be anyway.”

As much as I hate to admit it, he’s right. This storm came on fast, and I’m wildly unprepared. I swear I checked the forecast before I set out on my hike.

Well, at least I looked outside. The point of being off the grid was to avoid spending time on my phone looking at apps.

Lesson learned, if—when— I get off of this mountain, I’ll always check the weather.

But for now…

“Who are you sending?” I ask, trying not to sound completely exasperated with the situation and him.

“Someone I trust. Someone who will know what the hell to do if?—”

The line crackles, and he’s gone. I try to get him back, but the dreaded “NO SERVICE” flashes across the top of my screen.

I stare at the phone. Someone who will know what to do if what? The storm howls louder, and my heart hitches as a sense of dread settles deep in my core.

For the first time, I can feel my bravado slipping. For the first time, I feel good and truly alone.

For the first time, I hope my dad’s tendency to track my location has led him to know exactly where to send my future rescuer to find me.

I hope they find me.

I wrap my arms tighter around my knees to conserve what warmth I have. The thin jacket I’d brought for summer hiking isn’t exactly ideal for surviving a blizzard.

My teeth chatter as the minutes crawl by at a glacial pace. Minutes pass. Hours. Or maybe it’s only minutes. But it feels like forever as the cold wind seeps into my bones.

I shift my numb legs and rub my hands together, when I hear a new sound. Crunching twigs against rock. My gaze darts to the cave’s opening.

Through the thick curtain of snow, I see a dark mass of movement.

My heart hitches as the large figures moves closer with purpose. Bundled in a heavy winter quote, with a ski cap pulled over their face, they have a military-grade knapsack slung over one broad shoulder as they squeeze through the space.

I scramble to my feet, nearly losing my footing on the icy ground.

With cat-like speed, the figure reaches out to hold me upright. “Steady there.”

The deep voice is vaguely familiar. I blink, trying to make out the face. “Are you…?”

Releasing his hold on me, he pushes the cap up from his face. I suck in a breath.

It’s Hayes Carter.

Rugged. Serious. Dark good looks that are so lethal, they should be illegal.

Of course it’s him. My father’s best friend. Who else would be close enough to reach me? Who else would be loyal—or crazy—enough to brave the storm to reach me?

“Hayes,” I whisper as my gaze roves over his face. I take in the dark stubble across his chiseled jaw and the intensity in his nearly jet-black eyes.

That’s nothing to say for the way he seems to tower over me. Almost larger than life.

While he was a permanent part of my dad’s life, our paths rarely crossed. I know him mostly from photos. We’ve only met a handful of times. He crashed on our couch once the night before he and my dad left for fishing trips with their Army buddies in the Cascades.

I haven’t seen him in… at least a decade?

But no dim memory, no photo, could prepare me for the man standing in front of me now.

Gone is the friendly, if reserved, face I once knew. In its place is someone stronger. Tougher. He’s not my father’s best friend. He’s a man. All man.

His piercing gaze pins me in place. Something hot and dangerous flickers in his gaze, sending a shiver of anticipation down my spine.

It’s… unexpected. But not unwelcome.

The way he’s looking at me—really looking at me—I get the impression he isn’t seeing me as his best friend’s daughter either. Interesting. Way too interesting.

“Elise,” he says. His low voice somehow somehow drowns out the shrieking storm.

Despite the cold, heat spreads low in my belly, settling between my thighs.

Hayes. Freaking. Carter.

“Come on.” He steps closer again. “We need to move. We aren’t safe here.”

I nod, but as I take a step, I move like I’m ninety-seven instead of twenty-seven. my limbs are stiff. It’s a sign of just how cold I’ve become.

Without tearing his gaze from mine, Hayes shrugs off his coat and drapes it over my shoulders.

“No.” I shake my head. “I couldn’t?—”

“Take it.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll be fine. I run hot.”

I believe him. His jacket is like a furnace, warmed by his body heat. I reluctantly slide my arms into it, and the scent of pine and something else—something uniquely him—envelops me.

I tug it tighter around myself, grateful for the immediate comfort. Even if it has me feeling a little weak in the knees.

“Stay close.” He tilts his head toward the storm. “I don’t want to lose you out there.”

My eyes grow wide.

“It isn’t quite a white-out, but it’s damn close,” he says. “Don’t worry. I’ve got you.”

He has no idea just how good and truly he’s captured me.

Following his lead, I fall into step behind him. I struggle through the snow as we leave the cave. The snow swirls so thick it’s hard to see more than a few feet ahead.

And while my hiking boots were perfect for traipsing through a summer wilderness, they leave something to be desired in these new conditions.

Without even glancing back, Hayes’s hand reaches for mine. “Here.”

His gloved fingers wrap around mine. The contact sends a jolt of heat through me. My pulse quickens, even as I try to keep my focus on taking each step.

With his hand wrapped around mine, his coat around my body, and his presence permeating my soul, I trudge through the snow with him.

I almost hate that I stumble more than a few times. Almost , because each time I do, he pulls me closer. His firm body offers me strength and foundation. His increasingly familiar rugged scent gives me comfort.

His quiet determination fuels mine.

After what feels like forever, the faint outline of a cabin appears. A rush of relief washes over me like a flood.

Hayes throws open the door and ushers me inside. Heat radiates from a towering stone fireplace, nearly knocking the breath out of me. As I catch my breath, I turn my gaze around the cabin.

It’s small but sturdy. Besides the fireplace, there’s a woodstove in the connecting kitchen with a neat stack of firewood nearby. It’s easy to imagine Hayes rolling up his sleeves to split logs apart. A light sheen of sweat covering his brown.

His flannel shirt clinging to his chest…

Hayes shuts the door against the storm and faces me. For a long moment, we just stare at each other. Both of us nearly out of breath.

“You okay?” he asks, voice rough.

I nod, but my body shivers, giving me away.

Without hesitation, Hayes steps closer, his hands lowering the zipper on my borrowed cut. He pulls it off my body and reaches for the jacket I’d been wearing.

He unsnaps the clasp at my neck. His calloused fingers brush my neck, and I suck in a breath through parted lips. His gaze drops to my mouth.

His eyes darken even more. Then he shakes his head.

“You’re freezing.” He clears his throat. “Come here.”

He pulls me toward the stove. On the way, he grabs a thick blanket from the back of the couch and drapes it over my shoulders.

He moves me to the front of the sofa. “Sit.”

I sink onto the worn couch, and he crouches in front of me, rubbing my arms through the blanket.

“Thank you,” I manage, through chattering teeth.

Hayes lifts his gaze to mine, and the intensity in them once again steals my breath.

His hand rises, fingers brushing along the edge of the blanket near my throat. Gently, he adjusts it, his knuckles grazing my collarbone, lingering longer than necessary.

I give another shiver. This one isn’t from the cold.

“I told your dad I’d keep you safe.” His thumb grazes the delicate skin above the collar of my shirt. “And I will.”

“I believe you.”

His breath brushes over my lips. We’re close enough, it wouldn’t take much to press my mouth to his.

It’s tempting.

For a moment, I swear I see the same idea cross his mind.

I hold my breath, every nerve ending straining toward him.

Abruptly, he clears his throat and pulls back, his jaw clenched. “Get some rest, Elise.”

Without another word, he pushes to his feet and steps away, putting distance between us.

He turns back out toward the storm, muttering something about bringing in more wood, even though the pile is already stocked.

The door closes behind him, and I’m left alone. Heart racing. Skin tingling. Wondering if I imagined that fire of desire in his eyes again.

God, I hope so.