Page 22 of Been There Dragon That
“How can you see where to go?” Rylee spoke into the wind. He probably couldn’t hear her.
“I can see the signs on the trees. Our path is marked. The cabin is close.”
“What signs? I can barely see the trees?” She squinted into the snow, making out trunks of trees here and there. Mostly it seemed to be a mix of evergreens and some other white-trunked trees she couldn’t remember the name of right now. Whatever marks he was watching for, she couldn’t spot.
“Look up to the right,” he said, his tone deep and clear even through the noise of the wind.
She followed directions and peered up to her right. For a minute all she saw was green branches and snow swirling, but then a flutter of red up in an evergreen caught her eye. “I see it!”
She felt a chuckle roll through his body. “There are scent marks too, but in this type of weather they’re useless.”
“Scent marks? Do you have dogs, or something?”
She felt his body tense slightly.
“Or something.” His tone was tight again, guarded. The muscles in his shoulders had tightened also.
Like magick, a cabin appeared in front of them. Giant logs. Beautiful picture-frame windows. The roof was a sharp A-line and covered with a thin layer of snow. For a few seconds the wind let up, and it was a magazine-worthy view.
A pickup truck was parked beneath a carport on the left side alongside a covered-up motorcycle.
All her previous questions were forgotten. “This is where you live?”
“Yes, the tribe owns land up and down the river bordering the national park. The cabins are about a quarter mile apart. Mine is the farthest south.”
Tribe?Was he Native American?
He put his thumb on the deadbolt then turned the lock and opened the large heavy wooden door.
Rylee tapped his shoulder, and he released her slowly, letting her body drag along his as he let her slip gently to the floor. She walked around his massive form, distracted by the beautiful view ahead of her.
The entire back wall of the cabin was glass. The picturesque view distracted her from the worries swarming around in her head like an angry hive of bees.
She walked to the window and stared out at the winter wonderland. Every so often, the wind would break, and the river and mountains would come into view. Magestic. Grand. Breathtaking. She couldn’t decide on a description that really did the landscape justice.
“Why are you doing this? You don’t know me.”
“My soul does.” His answer was immediate and absolute.
His soul? What kind of crap was this guy spewing? He had to be joking. “Is that a line? Does that really work with girls?” Rylee didn’t turn around. She kept staring out the window.
She wasn’t sure she could handle looking at him and hearing his answer. She needed to focus on his tone, not how attractive he was and how much she wished he wasn’t like every other beautiful man used to getting anything and everything they ever wanted out of life.
“Rylee, your soul glows for me, there has never been and will never be any other woman in my life for as long as I draw breath.” His voice was steady and soothing and so damn close. She could smell him again. Feel the heat radiating from his body.
Then his hands were on her shoulders. He turned her from the window. It wasn’t real. Real men didn’t talk that way. There was something wrong with him. It was the only explanation. She stared at the floor. At his boots.
His feet were big. The boots were black and scuffed from use. The floor was beautiful and smooth and polished, and she could almost see her reflection in it.
A large, calloused hand cupped her chin and tipped it up. “Please look at me, Rylee.”
When had she closed her eyes? Her emotions were all over the place. She couldn’t tell what she was feeling from what he was feeling. It was all a jumble of angst and arousal and need—fire-in-the-blood burning desire like she’d never felt in all her life.
She opened her eyes and met his golden fiery gaze.
The connection was intense and deep, and her stomach flip-flopped. She wasn’t afraid of him. Instinctively, she knew he wouldn’t hurt her, but she was afraid of her judgment.
What if he was another mistake? Another Mr. Wrong on her long list of bad boyfriend choices.
