Chapter 4
4
Emily
T he mountain man is a total grump. Christian’s face is dark as he tromps back up the lane to his cabin, his shoulders rigid with the rest of my luggage in his hands. I follow meekly behind that huge form, unsure what to do.
After all, my mom’s left me in an awkward position. Before I could even say anything, Pamela up and left me here, and I now have no way to leave. I suppose I could call for an Uber but it would cost hundreds, if not thousands, of dollars, because the drive back to Vegas is about seven hours. I suppose I ask the Uber to take me to a motel nearby, but very likely, there are no vacancies. The snow is beginning to fall again, and my guess is that every lodge is booked full.
Unfortunately, my unexpected host is in a bad mood. In fact, he’s in a terrible mood because he was foisted into this position, the same way I was. After I close the cabin door behind me, I manage a small apology.
“So yeah, I’m sorry about that. Pamela—”
“Don’t even get me started on Pamela,” Christian bites out in an enraged tone, his gaze an icy arctic blast. “Why the fuck I married that bitch to begin with is a mystery to me.”
I nod.
“Yeah, it’s kind of a mystery to me too—”
Christian whirls on me, his expression thunderous.
“Don’t start. Don’t even go there.”
I hold up both my hands in a sign of peace.
“Okay, I won’t. I’m sorry. But you need to recognize that we’ve both been thrown into unfortunate circumstances, by no choice of our own. It would be great to make the most of the situation because it’s obvious that a storm is coming, and I have no way to leave this cabin.”
“ Walk !” he barks, gesturing angrily to the front door. “None one’s stopping you.”
I gape at him.
“Are you kidding? Walking would take hours, and where would I go? How would I take all these suitcases with me, anyways? Maybe you could call for private helicopter service and get one to pick me up,” I retort in a snarky tone. “Trust me, no one would be happier than me to leave this place.”
To his credit, Christian actually glances outside, as if he’s considering summoning a private aircraft for the purpose of ridding me from his life. But the snow is coming down in soft flakes now, landing lightly on the trees and rendering any kind of escape impossible. His dark expression swings back my way.
“They wouldn’t be able to fly in. There’s a clearing nearby, but the weather’s not going to make it possible.”
I nod, placing my hands on my hips.
“So what do we do then? We’re stuck together.”
For the first time, the mountain man looks at me, and I mean really looks. His piercing blue eyes go from the top of my blonde head, sliding over my cascading curls to take in my big breasts, wide hips and thick thighs. I look like the Michelin Man because I have about ten layers on, and yet it feels like Christian has x-ray vision that can see straight through the fabric, heating my skin and making my pulse race. I gasp silently as my nipples harden, a warm wetness pooling between my thighs.
But Christian doesn’t say anything. Instead, his head-to-toe once-over ranges upwards again, observing my flushed cheeks, bee-stung pout, and elevated breathing. Oh my god, this is so embarrassing! How can he be so crass? Even worse, how did he get under my skin like this?
But the alpha male’s an asshole to the core. He shoots me a hard look and then spins on his heel.
“What you do doesn’t matter to me, Emily. Stay the fuck out of my life.”
Then, he storms to the bedroom and stalks in, slamming the door behind him. I’m left alone in the living room, the silence ringing in my ears as I try to recover. What just happened? Why did he scrutinize my curves like that, and then act like I’m the ugliest woman he’s ever seen? Nevertheless, one thing’s for certain. Christian Degas and I hate each other ... even though we’re trapped together in a cabin in the woods.