Page 3 of Seduced By the Mountain Man

"I can reschedule you with Bethany tomorrow if you'd prefer," he offered, though his tone suggested he knew exactly what my pride would make me say.

I straightened my spine. "No, that's fine. This is... fine."

One dark eyebrow quirked upward. "You sure about that?"

"Absolutely," I lied. "Just a massage. Very professional."

"Always am," he replied, though the heat in his eyes said otherwise.

I forced myself to lie back down, face through the donut cushion, trying to regulate my breathing. This was fine. Just a massage. From the man who'd given me the best night of my life and then pretended it never happened. No big deal.

"I'll step out while you get settled," he said, and I heard the door close behind him.

I briefly considered bolting—grabbing my clothes and running back to the cabin. But that would mean admitting he'd rattled me, and I'd rather die. So I adjusted the sheet, making sure I was adequately covered, and tried to summon the Zen I'd felt moments before.

When Jace returned, I was lying perfectly still, the picture of relaxation except for every muscle in my body being tensed to the breaking point.

"I'm going to start with your shoulders," he said, his voice shifting into a professional register that somehow made this worse. "You're carrying a lot of tension there."

The first touch of his hands on my bare skin sent electricity crackling down my spine. His fingers were strong, callused from outdoor work, and so warm they burned through me. He began at my shoulders, applying firm pressure that balanced between pleasure and pain as he worked the knots I'd been carrying for months.

And oh, it felt good. Embarrassingly good. So good I had to bite my lip to stifle sounds that would absolutely not be appropriate in this context.

"Breathe, Dee," he murmured, his thumbs working a particularly stubborn knot. "You're as tight as a bowstring."

And whose fault is that?I wanted to snap but couldn't form words because his hands had moved to the base of my neck, and my brain was short-circuiting.

As he worked his way down my spine, memories flooded back—his hands on other parts of my body, his mouth following, the way he'd whispered my name in the dark of that hotel room. The way he'd looked at me like I was everything he'd ever wanted.

Until morning came, and I wasn't.

"You're still holding tension," he observed, hands moving lower. "Try to relax."

Relax? With his hands on me? After what had happened? After what hadn't happened since?

It was too much. The heat of his touch, the scent of him—an elixir of sunscreen and manhood—the flood of memories, the hurt and want tangled together in my chest.

I bolted upright, clutching the sheet to my chest, nearly colliding with him in the process.

"I just remembered—" I stammered, desperately avoiding his eyes. "I have to... there's a thing. At the cabin. I forgot."

Jace stepped back, confusion and something else—amusement?—playing across his features. "A thing?"

"Yes. Very important. Can't miss it." I was babbling but couldn't seem to stop. "I'll, uh, reschedule. Sorry for the trouble."

Before he could respond, I'd gathered my clothes in a bundle and fled to the changing room, heart hammering against my ribs. I changed in record time, not bothering with proper clothing arrangement, just needing to escape.

As I hurried back along the garden path toward our cabin, my cheeks burning with embarrassment, one thought repeated in my mind:

One week. I just needed to survive one week at Hope Peak without doing anything foolish. One week without falling back into the arms of the man who'd broken my heart six months ago. One week without letting Jace Redmond anywhere near me.

Given my luck, it was going to be the longest week of my life.

Chapter Two

“Let the Games Begin”

Jace

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