One

Leaned against the trunk of a pine, hidden by the shadows of the dense forest, Rhett Porter pushed the Stetson up his brow. Of all the things he encountered in these mountains--and he came across a lot in his thirty-three years of life--never had he witnessed the likes of this.

Across the stream, knelt at the edge of a flat rock on the riverbed, a golden-haired woman splashed water over her face and naked chest. The snow runoff caused her honey-toned skin to prickle, her nipples to stiffen at the tips of full breasts.

Rhett could almost taste the rosy buds in his mouth, feel her goose bumped flesh under his hands. In an attempt to block out the heat surging to his loins, he shifted his hips, wondering if he should splash some of that cold water over his own body. Clearly, he’d spent too much time alone for he could not deny the fierce reaction to the woman.

Unable to turn away, Rhett adjusted his position against the tree and continued to watch the goddess bathe, not entirely sure he wanted to end the experience. His reason for being here momentarily forgotten, he simply enjoyed. She appeared to be a heavenly vision of beauty, only she was real. Incredibly, tantalizingly real.

It’d been a long time since he’d seen a woman in a state of undress. Like a man in the desert thirsty for water, he longed to cross the stream, unbutton those jeans, dip his hand inside, and feel...

A rustle in the brush behind the woman pulled Rhett’s attention away from his thoughts. Instinctive reaction sent his hand to retrieve the Beretta from its holster. One glance back to the woman told him she heard the sound, too. She jumped from the rock, yanked her shirt off a branch, and attempted to thrust her arms into it as she studied the terrain.

With long strides forward, Rhett focused his sight back on the target. Seeing a camouflage jacket move with his trained eye, he leapt the width of the stream, caught the woman by the waist, whisked her behind him in a fluid motion, and aimed his pistol.

"Redding, drop your weapon and come out. I have my gun pointed directly at you." He kept his voice even, though full of command.

With a shriek, the woman toppled backward, plunging into the stream. Rhett whirled around and pulled her from the icy current. The woman clasped under his arm, he returned his attention to where he saw the man he hunted.

Redding was gone, having taken the moment of distraction for his benefit and fled. "Damn!" Rhett lowered the gun and shoved it into place.

The woman pounded at his chest. He looked down at her, his gaze locked with lucid blue eyes. The world seemed to halt as her beauty captured him. Redding ceased to exist.

~ * ~

Stunned, A.J. stopped pounding her fists. She looked into a dark, mysterious face shadowed by the brim of a black hat. Gazing into his eyes made her heart sigh.

Cold, numb fingers clenched the lapels of her self-anointed hero’s leather vest. A.J. fought to steady herself, for the earth must have shifted under her feet. Chiding herself for the insane thought, she chalked the feeling to having bumped her head, though she really couldn’t recall an impact.

"What is going on?" She broke free of the stranger’s intense gaze, shoving at his broad chest. He held her tighter to his rock-solid body. Through the vest he wore under an unbuttoned coat, she felt hardened planes.

The corners of his mouth turned upward. "I should ask the same of you. What in the devil possessed you to undress out in the open?"

"You were watching me! I--how dare you?"

His brow furrowed. "Do you have any idea what kind of danger you are in?"

Oh, yes, A.J. thought, being held in your arms, looking at me as if you’d devour me within a heart beat, is surely dangerous. "I’m going to scream if you don’t release me."

He loosened his grip, but did not turn her free. Instead the pads of his thumbs circled the back of her shoulder blades, caressing wet cloth across her chilled skin. Heat splintered to her core. "Did you see the man in the brush?"

She peeked over his shoulder to the spot she heard the rustle. "Well, I did think I heard something before you attacked me."

"I was saving you."

"Oh, is that what you call this?" She let out a snort. "Saving me from what exactly?"

"Oliver Redding." He said the name as if it should mean something to her. It didn’t. "I’ve tracked him to this spot, though he threw me off for a few days. Because of you, I’ve lost him again."

"You’re tracking a man? What are you, a bounty hunter?"

"No."

"Then why are you tracking him? Did he steal your horses, rob your chickens?" Bed your wife?

"Some things are better left unknown. How long have you been here?"

She studied him, tried to decipher if he spoke the truth or simply wanted to scare her into staying in his arms. "Two days. I have a group of ten clients with me from Seattle. Five men and five women who know where I am, so if you have plans of--"

"You’ve got nothing to fear from me. However, I can’t say as much about Redding."

Shivers crept through A.J. Not just from the clinging wet clothes, but of what this man told her. Freeing his hold--only she realized it wasn’t quite a hold any longer, rather a gentle embrace--he hooked his finger around the opening of her unbuttoned flannel shirt. His gaze dropped to linger at the line of her exposed flesh.

Just as A.J. thought his hand would glide under her shirt and warm her cold breast, he retreated and shed his thick denim jacket. "Take off your clothes."

"I will not!"

"You’re wet. Take off your clothes, put on the jacket. I’ll get a blanket off Cannon."

"Cannon?"

"My horse."

She forced a laugh through chattering teeth. "Of course, your horse." How could she have thought he wouldn’t have a horse, dressed the way he was, clad in complete cowboy attire? She felt as if she had been dumped onto the set of Lonesome Dove.

"Now do as I say and keep this." He pulled up his pant leg and slid a black pistol from his boot, placing it in her hand. "Just in case Redding comes back. It’s a Glock .36, six rounds. Do you know how to use it?"

She stared at the weapon, and then up at the man. "I, yes. I’ve taken gun safety, but don’t like to shoot--"

"Use it if he comes back. Don’t hesitate." He jumped across the stream. "Be right back."

A.J. tried to convince herself that noticing his jeans were Wranglers came from simple human curiosity. Appreciation of a fine derriere won over the attempt of self-denial. Glancing down at the pistol, she felt a surreal disbelief at the entire situation. Like she would really shoot a man!

He returned leading a black stallion as muscular and powerful as its owner just as she got her clothes shed and the jacket buttoned. Intensely aware the coat covered her only to mid-thigh, she gave the hem a tug.

"Would you mind telling me what’s going on?" Her tone came out clipped. "And who you are?"

He draped a coarse blanket that smelled of horse and sweat around her shoulders. "The name is Rhett Porter. The man in the brush is wanted."

His fingers lingered at the edge of the blanket, holding it together below her chin. His leg, clad in denim and black leather chaps, grazed her bare knee. Rivulets of heat shot through her. "And I’m supposed to believe you?"

"Believe what you want. But I’m telling you to pack up whoever is with you and get off this mountain."

"Excuse me?"

"You’re in danger."

"I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, Mister Porter, but I’m running a business here. I’m not going anywhere."

His eyebrows rose. "A business?"

"I own Escapade for One."

"Escapade for One," he repeated. A snicker followed.

She huffed, then explained through violent shivers, "It’s a singles adventure service."

"A dating service? Now that’s something you don’t see in the Montana Rockies every day."

"No, not a dating service. It’s an adventure club for singles looking for fun and a chance to meet other people with the same interests. As I said, I have ten clients with me, and I’m not packing up just because you claim there’s a bad guy on the loose. This is my property, and you’re trespassing!"

"Whoa, calm down. Wasn’t trying to ruffle your feathers. Had no idea this land was purchased, but, like I said, I’m not here for leisure. I’m tracking--"

"Yeah, yeah, Oliver what’s-his-name. I really don’t believe your baloney about a man in the brush. You look just the type to try and scare a woman, then play savior." She jabbed him in the chest and squinted her eyes. Chin tilted a notch, she assured him, "I am no damsel in distress, Mister Porter, so get on your horse and move on."

She was incredibly aware her mouth hovered a breath away from his as she spoke, almost feeling the bristle on his chin.

"I’ll move on as soon as I see you safely to your group. Where are you camping?" His breath warmed her cold lips.

She pulled her head back, fearing he may kiss her. To avoid it, she glanced down to her bare feet, then to her wet discarded clothes, contemplating her options.

"Of course, I could take my coat and blanket and say my good-byes now." He tilted his chin down so his hat nodded to the blanket.

"You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Men! You’re all the same. Fine." She boldly yanked the blanket away from her body and began to unbutton the jacket. Damn if she would spend another minute with this man who felt so sure of himself!

"You’re pretty as hell when you’re mad." A devilish grin spread through his whiskers. He pulled a cigarette out of his vest pocket, but didn’t light it. He stood there, clearly not intending on turning his back to her while she took off the jacket to put on her own clothes.

Her fingers stilled. "Turn around, Marlboro Man."

"Nope. The view here is fine."

"If you really think I’m going to take off this jacket with you watching, you’re sorely mistaken!"

"Why? I’ve already seen you without your shirt. Must say, it was quite a sight."

"Oh! You are impossible! Fine, hero, escort me to my castle." She yanked the blanket back around her, sat on her rump, and pulled on her slushy boots.

With ease, he threw his leg over the black stallion, then offered down his hand. "Hop on up, you can’t walk in those boots." The cigarette bobbed in his lips as he spoke.

Upper lip snarled, she refused defiantly, "I’ll walk, thank you very much."

"Suit yourself."

The horse sauntered behind her as she marched off in the direction of her cabin, the blanket clutched around her. Slipping in her wet boots, she fell onto her knees and palms. Cool air whisked across her rear end as it poked out from under the blanket. Could things get any worse? She quickly scrambled to recover from the fall.

Cannon trotted beside her as she managed to stand. With one scoop of his arm, Rhett lifted her off her feet and deposited her into the saddle in front of him.

"Put me down or I’ll scream!" She rammed her elbow into his gut with all her might. His arm snaked around her waist and held her to his chest.

"We’ll get back to your camp much faster this way. Besides, you were ready to break your damn neck."

Even through layers of jacket and blanket, she felt his heat. The urge to stay against him and let his body warm her was tempting. Instead, she scooted as far up the saddle as she could. Only a strange sensation zinged through her as she pressed against the leather saddle horn with the bare juncture of her thighs.

"Do you have a name?" he asked casually, as if he really didn’t care.

"Not that it’s any of your business, but it’s A.J."

"A.J.?" He chuckled. "Is that short for something?"

She glared at him over her shoulder. "It is. And it’s none of your business, Mister Porter."

"Duck," he said evenly as he leaned to the side.

"Wh--" She turned around and had to duck under a low-lying branch. "Oh!" she fumed. This man is irritating!

As they rode in silence, A.J. seethed. She refused to speak until she spotted smoke coming out of her cabin’s chimney, then asked Rhett to stop the horse. He gave a gentle pull on the reins. Cannon stood still, shifted his weight from one leg to the other and blew out a breath.

"Listen, Mister Porter--"

"Would it hurt you to call me Rhett?"

"Mister Porter, the group I have with me is not exactly Montana-born, if you get my drift." She turned to look at him. "I’m not going to spook them with this story of Oliver. They have paid me a great deal of money to show them a good time. I’m not going to jeopardize my reputation of operating a quality service on your word."

"What are you saying? You want me to keep quiet, not warn your clients of danger?"

"Isn’t that why you’re here, to catch the bad guy?" The question purposely mocked him. "So why not do your job quietly without scaring everyone? Besides, if this Oliver was in the bushes, then he saw you back there and has moved on, right?"

"I’ll keep my mouth shut. But I’ll be keeping my eye on you and your group until I apprehend Redding or until you leave this mountain. Take your pick."

"Are you always this difficult or do you simply enjoy torturing me?"

A finger skimmed across her earlobe, trailing down her neck. For an aching moment, as her pulse rate increased past that of a man being chased by a mountain lion, she thought his lips would follow. The warmth of his breath caressed her ear as he said, "Lady, I could show you the sweetest torture you’ve ever known."

Warmth radiated her cold body, sending violent chills of unwanted pleasure to her depths. "Damn you," she breathed. Her body ached to have him touch her again. Why did her body insist on defying her better senses?

"I could turn Cannon around and lay that blanket down and--"

"Enough! How dare you insinuate I would be the type of woman to give myself to a man I don’t even know?"

His hand grazed her thigh, pressing into her skin. "Wasn’t insinuating anything. Simply suggesting what you’re too afraid to admit."

"I’m not afraid to admit anything! I simply don’t wish to bed you, Mister Porter. You’re not my type. Furthermore, I wouldn’t, even if you were."

"You may not be ready now, but I bet you’ll be begging for me by the time I leave."

"I would never do such a thing."

She protested, though not entirely sure he was wrong. Since his abrupt arrival, her thoughts wavered from her normal position of resisting any and all temptation brought forth from the male species.

As the duo approached the cabin, a woman sitting on the porch stood and called inside, "Hey guys, come look at this!"

The group filed out and stood on the porch, mouths agape. "These are your clients?" Rhett asked, obviously now understanding what she meant by saying her clients were "not exactly Montana-born."

Truth be known, the entire group was made of city slickers, every one of them. Even in the middle of the mountains, supposedly roughing it, the women had their hair styled, makeup on, and wore designer jeans. The men wore clean shirts and unwrinkled Dockers. A walking ad for Land’s End, A.J. thought with a grimace.

"A.J.! We were about to come looking for you. Where have you been?" Blake asked. Her fiery red hair was piled on her head with curly tendrils expertly set loose. Corvette-red lipstick painted her full lips. She sauntered up in red cowboy boots, her hips swaying in a feline fashion. She seemed to purr as she slid her hand along Rhett’s leather chap. "And who is this?"

A.J. wanted to push Blake’s roaming hand from Rhett’s thigh. She didn’t. It would be... possessive? "I, ah, had an accident. Fell in the creek. This is Rhett Porter, he happened to be there at the right time to pull me out."

Rhett dismounted as A.J. told her half-true story. He lifted her down, careful to keep the blanket secured around her as he gripped her waist in his big hands. Her leg came out from under the blanket as she slid off the horse and down his length. For a moment Blake and the other clients were forgotten. Electric currents hummed to her core as if she’d touched a hot wire.

Heat went straight to her face, and A.J. knew she blushed. She took a step back to put distance between herself and Rhett’s firm body and fumbled for composure.

Rhett’s words gave her a reprieve. "She needs to warm up. If one of you would put on some coffee and stoke the fire."

Ten faces looked blankly to one another, but no one moved.

"It’s all right, Rhett, I can manage," A.J. whispered, "they’re all helpless as newborn babies."

The conversation seemed to take a momentary pause as Rhett looked at her. His eyes flickered with want, the words she spoke seemingly unheard. Despite her attempt at being tough, A.J. suddenly felt vulnerable and weak. Her resistance dwindled.

She shook off the feeling and tried to convince herself, again, she must have hit her head when she tumbled into the stream as she was not behaving normally. She wanted to lean to Rhett’s chest, let him hold her, warm her body with his, circulate her blood with his touch.

Trying to validate her theory of a mind-altering injury, she ran her hand through her hair, patting her skull for a bump. With no sign of one, she was left to simply persuade herself what she felt for Rhett to be a moment of pure insanity.

In one last attempt at denial, she closed her eyes, then batted them open, hoping Rhett would be gone. He wasn’t. He remained there, tall, dark, and dangerously sexy, looking at her with molten eyes. She breathed in deep and sighed. "I can take care of myself," she said, trying to concentrate on the issues at hand.

Rhett scooped her into his arms. Before she could protest, he marched up the porch steps and barreled through the crowd of onlookers. "They may be helpless, but I’m not. Your lips are blue. You’re going to catch a cold if you don’t get warm."

"Oh, my!" Blake laid a hand over her heart. "How romantic!"

"Oh, Blake, you think everything is romantic."

"Shut up, Alec. Just ‘cause you had no luck with A.J. doesn’t mean someone else won’t," Charles remarked.

"A.J.’s too much a lady to fall for that rugged mountain man crap." Alec followed Rhett inside, like a lovesick schoolboy. A.J. only hoped Alec wasn’t stupid enough to try and fight for her. She felt Rhett’s muscles bunch under her, his powerful hands gripping her. Alec’s wimpy body and pencil-pushing hands would be no match.

"Put me down."

"Your wish is my command." Rhett deposited her on frozen feet. She went to her bedroom and slammed the door.

"Tell us," Blake said, "how do you fit into A.J.’s little scheme? You don’t expect us to believe she just found you out in the woods. No woman could possibly be that lucky."

"I--" A blood curdling scream echoed from the bedroom, cutting off Rhett. He shoved Blake out of the way and barged into the room.

A.J. ran smack into his chest and screamed again. "Over there!" She pointed to the window, then pressed back into Rhett’s chest.

Strung from a cord on the outside of the windowpane dangled a skinned rabbit, its gut sliced. Blood smeared the glass.

"Who would do such a thing?" she sobbed.

Four of the guests plowed into the room and saw the gruesome sight. Rhett ordered everyone out, then escorted her from the bedroom. A.J. allowed him to set her down on the couch.

He knelt before her, brushing a tendril of hair off her brow. "It’s okay. I’ll take care of it." He stood and turned to the group. "Stay inside." He removed his pistol and left out the front door.

When the door slammed, everyone began to offer speculation on who would do such a thing as kill an innocent rabbit and string it.

A.J. remained silent, blanket clutched around her. She needed no more proof of Rhett’s bad guy. When they arrived at the cabin two days ago and found the cupboards rummaged through and some supplies missing, she figured it had been a hungry hunter stopping for a night. Then the horses getting out of the corral the second night was an accident. Now she wondered if it was this Oliver Redding.

Swallowing a lump of fear, she faked a smile to the group. "I’m sure it was just some teenage kid looking for something to do. Probably up hunting with his friends and thought it would be funny." She tried her best to sound convincing.

"I don’t like it," Sue Ann whined and fidgeted her hands in her lap. In the old days she would be considered a spinster, thirty-five and never an offer of marriage.

"It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it." A.J. stood, knowing she had to act as unafraid as she portrayed. "I’m going to get dressed. I’m freezing."

"I’ll go with you to keep you safe," Alec offered and followed her toward the bedroom.

"I don’t think so, Romeo." A.J. forced a smile, sucked in a breath, and entered the bedroom. Daring not to look at the window, she pulled down the shade.

From her bag she pulled out a pair of jeans and a thick wheat-colored sweater. As if the man Rhett warned her about still lurked outside, she quickly dressed and then nearly ran out of the room.

Later as she sat by the wood stove, soaking up the fire’s heat to dry her hair, A.J. convinced herself Rhett wouldn’t return. He’d been gone for at least an hour. Of course, she didn’t care. And she certainly didn’t need his overbearing protection.

Yet, for the safety of the others, she would feel better if he came back and told her he’d caught Oliver Redding.

Gratefully, everyone left her alone to speak in hushed whispers amongst themselves. A.J. wasn’t sure how long she could pretend not to be rattled. Forcing away thoughts of the man Rhett claimed he hunted, she found her mind drifted to the way Rhett’s body felt when he held her. The way he looked at her with sensual, dangerous eyes.

Dangerous certainly summed up the man, wearing near all black, his features just as dark. How dare he suggest they have sex when they barely met? Beyond conceited and arrogant, Rhett was darn right rude. A womanizer, to be kind. She knew the type.

Rude or not, she recalled the feel of his warm breath on her ear, his hand on her thigh. A wicked chill raced through her body. She recovered from the unwanted sensation and told herself to be grateful Rhett wouldn’t be returning.

Just then, the door flew open with a thud. A.J.’s gaze darted to Rhett standing in the doorway, his hat low, concealing his eyes. Long black hair fanned his face as a gust of wind rushed through the cabin. He stepped inside and shook off a layer of snow. "A storm is blowing in. We’ll have several inches of snow by morning, at least."

"Snow?" Lynette looked from Rhett to A.J. "But it’s almost summer! We aren’t prepared for snow."

"In Montana, anything is possible. Especially this high up. If we’re lucky, the worst of it will pass by us and hit higher ground."

"And if we’re not?" Roxanne clutched Charles’s arm.

"Then we could get snowed in for a few days."

A.J. frowned. This bit of unexpected news would not sit well with her clients. Knowing she had to do something to change the mood, she stood and clapped her hands. With false cheer she said, "Now, let’s not get all depressed over a little bit of snow! We came for adventure and fun, remember?" She beamed a smile to go along with her facade. "Mister Porter is clearly stating the worse possible scenario. Who’s got dinner duty tonight?"

Sheri and Eric stood, announced it was their turn, then headed to the kitchen. Pulling Rhett aside by the arm, A.J. demanded to know, "What the hell are you trying to do, panic everyone?"

"I said before, I think you’ve got reason to panic, Redding is--"

"There are eleven of us in this cabin, not including you, Mister Porter. Surely even the most lunatic of a man would not dare mess with the lot of us."

"I’m not talking about a man, but a monster. Again, I advise you to leave this mountain at first light. Redding did not string that rabbit up as a welcoming gift."

"You’re just trying to scare me. I’ll have you know I won’t be jumping into your arms for protection. So if that’s what you had in mind, find another female to protect."

"I have no need to scare a woman into my arms."

Blake sauntered up, ending the conversation. "Mister Porter, may I call you Rhett?" He nodded agreement. "With the storm and all, I’m sure you’d like to stay here with us."

"I’m sure Mister Porter has a camp set up he needs to get back to," A.J. put in through gritted teeth.

"Matter of fact, I don’t." Rhett looked down at her, amusement flickered in his eyes, clearly mocking her attempt to get rid of him. "Thanks for the offer, Blake."

"No problem at all." Blake linked her arm through Rhett’s and led him to the kitchen table for dinner.

A.J. turned away to stare out the window. She needed a moment to rein in control over the events of the day, which seemed to continually get worse by the minute.

Not only did she have the unwanted sensations Rhett stirred within her rattling around, but she’d brought her clients into the midst of potential danger. No, there was no proof, she thought. She didn’t know Rhett from Adam. He could very well have strung that rabbit up himself, and Blake just invited him to sleep in their cabin!

The stern set of his jaw and determination for her to leave the mountain echoed her wayward thoughts. Rhett wouldn’t harm them, he posed no danger, this A.J. knew. An excellent judge of character, she would have sensed if Rhett had an ulterior motive.

Wouldn’t she?

Tired of the circle of thoughts, she banished her mind from thinking any further on the situation. Rhett would stay the night and be gone in the morning. She turned her attention to the snow falling in soft flakes, covering the forest in a layer of pristine white. The most pressing concern remained the storm. Hopefully, it would blow by them during the night.

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