Chapter 3
Blaze
I’m sure she was joking, but my palm is twitching.
She was spot on. I want to take this naughty girl over my knees and spank her until she cries, and then I want her to kneel in front of me and promise me she will never ever do anything so reckless again in her life.
After that, I want to cuff her to my bed to ensure she can’t get out of the mansion, so I won’t have to worry about her doing something dangerous.
Like hiking alone without checking into her bed and breakfast or telling a living soul what her plans are. Madness.
My heart is racing as I scoop her into my arms. I haven’t asked yet, but I hope to God she doesn’t have a boyfriend—or, heaven forbid, a husband—waiting for her somewhere.
Because she’s mine.
I should be worried about my sanity. It hasn’t been an hour since Reagan told me I would find my wife soon and succumb to whatever breeding frenzy has taken over everyone living in the Wilde mansion.
They warned me when I arrived. Every one of them came out front to meet me when I pulled up. I thought they were bonkers as they jokingly told me that all who enter the mansion end up married and pregnant.
They weren’t really joking, though. They were serious. I didn’t care then, and I don’t care now, because the truth is, half the reason I gave up my corporate job and moved to Wilde was because my life was racing by me. No wife and no kids at forty-one.
I’ve been living in the mansion for two weeks, jealousy growing as my cousins deal with morning sickness and naughty wives. Because that group of women is hilariously disobedient. I’m sure they spend part of every day conspiring. Trying to come up with ways to get into trouble.
I’ve found myself craving what they have, even though it’s not a lifestyle I’ve ever considered.
Sure, I’m a bit dominant, perhaps more than I’ve ever admitted to myself, but I’ve never dated anyone submissive before. Or we’ve never discussed it.
What am I talking about? It’s been years since I was in a relationship that extended more than a handful of dates. All were vanilla, though.
I’ve caught the bug. It’s hard not to. My five cousins and their spouses live in deep D/s relationships. They aren’t quiet about it either. They joke around in front of everyone about naughty wives and red bottoms.
That doesn’t even count the whispered promises I overhear from all the men warning their wives about safety and punishments. Now I want what they have.
And she’s in my embrace. I know it. Madness? Yes. Definitely.
I adjust her and wrap my arms around her tightly to keep her close to my chest. “Hold on to my neck, baby,” I order.
Her breath hitches against my shoulder. The first time that endearment slipped out of my mouth, I winced inside, but she didn’t seem to mind. In fact, I think she likes it.
“It’s going to take me a while to get back to the spot that’s not so steep so I can climb out of this ravine without injuring you further.”
“Okay.” She leans into me, relaxing, trusting me. “I’m sorry,” she whispers.
My chest tightens. She’s apologizing for causing trouble. I pat her bottom. “You’re safe now, Vicky. You’re going to be okay.”
She’s wearing almost nothing. My girl took off alone to hike in the late afternoon, wearing tiny nylon shorts, a white sports bra, a thin white tank top, and tennis shoes. I know her body well already because it’s not hidden.
I wasn’t kidding about her size. She’s probably five-four, but she’s small. Her breasts are tiny. Her bra is thin, and I can see her little nipples poking through the material.
If she weren’t so injured, I’d have a hard-on for this woman. Who am I kidding? Her injuries are not keeping me from feeling a connection to her. It was almost instantaneous. The moment she moved her arm to look up into my eyes, I knew. Deep brown orbs looked up at me with so much trust.
She’s not wrong to trust me. I’ll never let anything happen to her again. It may be something in the fucking air or water at the mansion, but I’ve fallen hard for this woman like Cupid nailed me in the chest with an arrow.
She’ll never fall into a ravine again because I’ll never let her be in a situation where it could happen. I’m not likely to let this little daredevil out of my sight. I wonder if she’s always this reckless or if it was a one-off. When she’s feeling better, I’ll grill her and find out.
I’m touching a lot of her bare skin since she’s wearing so little.
She must have been chilled from exposure in the night.
No wonder she’d been burrowed under leaves and branches.
She’d done that to keep warm. Not that it was cold last night.
The temperature hovered near eighty even in the middle of the night, but without a shirt and such tiny shorts, she would have been shivering.
Especially if she had a fever. She feels warm to me.
I suspect she has a slightly elevated temperature.
Her hair is a mess of brown ringlets that probably extend halfway down her back when pulled straight, but it’s so curly that it bounces up to her shoulders. It’s also filled with leaves and small twigs.
She’s fucking adorable. And she’s holding on to me like I’m her world.
Which I am.
“Did you not even have a phone out here with you, Vicky?”
She shakes her head, not giving me words.
“Is it in your car?”
After a brief moment of hesitation, she shakes her head again.
Who doesn’t have a phone with them? She doesn’t strike me as someone homeless or destitute. She has a decent vehicle, and she had a reservation at the bed and breakfast.
“Where are you visiting from?” I ask.
She inhales deeply. “I’m originally from Portland.” Her wording is odd.
“Is anyone worried about you?”
She sighs. “Not altruistically, no.”
I lean her back in my arms and look at her face. Her responses make the hairs stand up on my arms. I need better answers, but I’ll get them later. We’ve reached a spot where I can climb up to the trail without setting her down.
I grip her bottom with one hand. “Hold on tight.”
She obeys me. Vicky may be a daredevil, but she’s not being disagreeable about me rescuing her. Her small arms are wrapped tightly around me, gripping for dear life.
I need one free hand to steady myself as I ascend the steep embankment. Thank goodness I didn’t have to hoist her up the short cliff where she fell. That might have taken equipment I didn’t have on me or perhaps a helicopter.
When we reach the main path at the top of the slope, Reagan and her group are waiting for us. Reagan rushes over. “Are you okay?” she asks, her attention on Vicky.
“Yes. I’m so grateful you happened to walk this path, though.
” She doesn’t release me. Not that I would let her.
She can’t possibly walk. Even if she hadn’t been pinned by a tree, any step would have been excruciating and caused her leg to bleed.
Besides, from her vantage point, she was at the bottom of a short cliff.
She couldn’t have known if she would encounter a place to climb back up or not.
I turn to Reagan. “I’ll take Vicky to the clinic. You should continue your hike.” I nod past her toward the women, who are waiting a polite distance away.
Reagan nods. “I’ve already let Tiago know. He’s sending Ryder to catch up with us. We’ll be fine.”
I’m certain Reagan is perfectly capable of guiding a hiking group without a babysitter and did so for many years before she met Tiago.
But I’m equally aware of how protective her husband is.
Not just him. All the men in that mansion.
They feed off each other. Hell, I’ve picked up on their overbearing ways, too.
There’s nothing to be done about our current predicament, though. I have to get Vicky to the clinic, and there’s no reason whatsoever for Reagan to cut her hike short.
“Wait,” Reagan says over her shoulder after turning around to rejoin her group. “You need a car.”
“The silver Corolla we saw when we parked is Vicky’s.”
“Oh, good. See you later then.” Reagan jogs back to rejoin the group.
“I’m messing up your plans,” Vicky murmurs.
I adjust her in my arms. “No, you’re not. Reagan doesn’t need me. Her husband usually accompanies her, but he had a meeting this morning, so he sent me. It’s only because he’s overly cautious, and because she’s pregnant. She’ll be fine. Circumstances have changed.”
Vicky looks down at her bent leg. “Do you think I’m going to be okay?”
“I’m certain of it, baby. I’m going to walk as fast as I can. When we get to your car, I’ll drive you to the clinic. Kinsley, the town doctor, will clean the wound and stitch you up.”
Vicky lets out a strangely relieved exhale. “Do you think I can pay her in cash and avoid the hospital?”
I frown as I pick up the pace. “Don’t worry about the medical bill, and I doubt you’ll need to go to the hospital, but I’m not a doctor. We’ll see what she says when we get there, okay?”
My girl relaxes in my arms once again.
It’s true that she weighs very little for a grown woman, but I’m glad I haven’t skipped too many workouts lately. A mile is quite a way to carry another human being, especially at a fast clip.
I’m not at all sure Kinsley can handle this wound on her own, but that’s a guess. I don’t know how much blood Vicky has lost or if she’ll need an IV antibiotic. That could cause us to head to the city.
I didn’t overlook her odd comments about paying the doctor in cash and not wanting to go to a hospital. Now I’m worried she’s on the run from someone. That makes my spine stiffen.
Who the hell would be chasing her and why?