by Iris Morland
Mittens’s real name was Milton, but when he’d told Thea as much, she’d instantly decided to call him Mittens instead. That had been ten years ago. Now most everyone called him Mittens and he didn’t have the energy to correct them anymore.
Thea had also become a vegan within the last two years and, in the process, had become an ardent animal rights activist along with Mittens. She’d always been an animal lover, although at the moment, her apartment didn’t allow so much as a fish. Someday she hoped to get a dog.
It helped, too, that her current friend group was also into protesting, although initially, most of them preferred to protest things like a fountain being shut off in one of Fair Haven’s parks or the use of red light cameras at stoplights.
“I’ll be there,” said Thea. “What’s this one for? Who’s being evil?”
“Bertram, Sons, & Co. What a pretentious name. They do animal testing. It’s bullshit. There’s no reason for it nowadays, and the people doing it are just being assholes. I’ll send you the link to RSVP.”
“Thanks, Mitty, darling. You’re my favorite anarchist.”
Mittens sent over the invite, and Thea found herself googling Bertram, Sons, & Co. out of sheer boredom. Or sheer curiosity. Those two things tended to meld together for Thea more often than not.
She discovered that the company was worth billions (no surprise), and that it manufactured cosmetics and household products. A number of the products listed were ones that Thea herself had used to use before she’d gotten involved in animal rights. Now she made certain that all of her products—from her shampoo to her dish soap—were cruelty-free, organic, palm-oil-free, and without any harsh detergents.
Clicking further on the company’s website, she landed on the About section. At the top was a photo of a man who couldn’t have been older than thirty-five: with his dark hair and equally dark eyes, he looked like something out of a Brontë novel. His gaze penetrated the screen, making Thea shiver despite herself. That gaze could put holes in you, like laser beams.
To make matters worse, Anthony Bertram, CEO, was undeniably handsome. He had a strong jaw, sharp cheekbones, and surprisingly plush lips. Thea leaned closer to the computer screen. Weren’t CEOs supposed to be scrawny, pale technology geeks with no social skills?
Thea found herself searching for images of this Anthony Bertram, and when she landed on one of him at the beach, his chiseled physique on display, she fanned herself. “Hot damn, you’re a sexy one, aren’t you? Too bad you’re evil.”
She allowed herself to look at a few more photos—one was of him in a tuxedo at some fancy party, another was of him on his yacht—before she finally shut her laptop and leaned back in her chair.
So, fancy-pants, super-sexy hot CEO Anthony Bertram was their next target? Bring it on. Thea was ready for him, no matter how good he looked without his shirt on.
Her phone rang with another notification. Thea opened the email, which read, We have an opening at our luxury cabin deep in the Cascade Mountains. Reply ASAP to book your reservation! She promptly began squealing.
Thea had been dying to get out of Fair Haven for some alone-time for ages, but the one place she’d been saving up for was always booked. She’d finally contacted the owner to get on the waiting list. That had been three months ago.
She sent her reply, excitement bubbling up inside her. When she received the confirmation email, she performed another happy dance. This time, she turned on her favorite music and danced across her living room floor.
After Thea made Anthony Bertram and his company wish they’d never been born, she was going on the vacation she deserved, all by herself.
She could hardly wait.
The End
Thank you for reading Then Came You! I hope you loved Ash and Violet’s story.
And don’t miss Thea and Anthony’s story in Taking a Chance on Love.
Merciless and driven, billionaire Anthony Bertram built his company from the ground-up, dedicating every waking moment to creating one of the most powerful corporations in the world.
The last thing he has time for is romance. He almost lost everything when his first marriage fell apart. Disillusioned from his divorce, Anthony knows from experience that love only makes you weak.
When a mix-up results in Thea Younger showing up at his supposedly private cabin during his vacation, all of his plans are completely upended. She’s just what he doesn’t need: beautiful, spirited, and so maddening that suddenly all Anthony wants is to make her his.
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From Taking a Chance on Love
Thea shivered as she peeled off her sodden jacket, trying to find a light switch inside the darkened cabin. The rain continued to fall, pounding on the roof above. Thea finally gave up on trying to find a light switch and turned on her phone to use as a flashlight. Her bladder was about to explode, and it didn’t care one bit if she couldn’t see to find a bathroom.
Luckily there was a bathroom with just a toilet and sink on the first floor. After relieving herself, Thea ventured into the kitchen. She switched on the oven light, which provided enough illumination that she could get a better idea of her surroundings.
It was close to midnight. She’d planned on arriving earlier in the evening, but a late start coupled with a rainstorm that had turned the twisty forest roads into mud had slowed her down considerably. She’d almost thought about turning back, but her four-wheel drive SUV and her own stubbornness had forbidden her.
Her stomach growled, although fatigue pressed on her more than hunger. She wanted to crawl into bed and sleep for an entire day. Why was it that sitting on your butt in a car was so exhausting? Yawning, she went and brought in the groceries she’d brought with her and began to put them away.
It took her a long moment to realize that there was already food in the fridge. And food on the counter. Thea frowned. Had Ted, the cabin owner, not cleaned up after the previous people? Considering she’d had to put down a deposit in case she trashed the place, that hardly seemed fair.
She wrinkled her nose when she saw that whoever it was had left breadcrumbs all over the counter. And was that deli meat in the fridge? Gross. She threw it into the trash along with some cheese, mayo, and everything else she never, ever ate. Good riddance.
After she’d put her food away, she wandered into the living room. She finally found a light switch, and when she flipped it on, she saw that there were books on the side table. She frowned. The books were all boring nonfiction tomes about economics, which sounded like terrible choices to provide your guests. Or the last guy was the most boring person ever and had left them behind.
It was when she saw the boots by the front door that she froze. They were huge compared to hers, so clearly they were men’s boots. She crouched down to inspect the boots, and her blood turned cold when she touched the mud on the boots and found it wet. If the mud was still wet, then the wearer had been outside fairly recently. And if the wearer had left them here within the last few hours or so…
She stifled a scream when she heard footsteps upstairs.
Oh God, what the hell? Who would be out here in the middle of nowhere?
Thea’s mind whirled, her heart pounding so fast that she felt dizzy. What if some serial killer had come to kill her? But then why leave his stupid boo
ts right there for her to see them? Maybe he knows it doesn’t matter once he slashes my throat.
She’d unconsciously moved backward toward the kitchen, when she heard footsteps at the top of the stairs. Her heart seized in her throat. If she ran out the front door, he’d hear her and if he caught her—
Sprinting as quickly and quietly as she could, she grabbed a butcher knife from the knife block in the kitchen before hiding inside the pantry. Her only hope was that the intruder didn’t notice her things everywhere. Or at the very least, he wouldn’t think to open the pantry door.
Thea held her breath when the kitchen light turned on. She heard the fridge door open and then the intruder muttered something. She frowned. Why was he rifling around in the fridge?
“What the hell?” a male voice said.
Thea heard his footsteps depart into the living room, but to her horror, he returned to the kitchen. She clutched the knife. She could call 911, but she was so far away from civilization that once the cops showed up, she’d be long dead, her body thrown into the nearby creek.
Oh God, this was supposed to be a relaxing vacation!
When the pantry door was thrown open, Thea screamed and launched herself at the intruder. He yelled, surprised, pushing her off him before grappling with her. The knife clattered to the floor. As the intruder held her still, she looked up into the eyes of the man who was going to kill her.
And when she recognized him, she was so shocked her voice failed her.
It was Anthony Bertram.
She gaped up at him, her mouth opening and closing like a fish. He frowned down at her like some ferocious predator. He was significantly taller than her, as she only came up to his shoulder. His grip was firm to the point of hurting, but she hardly felt it. Was this some kind of bizarre nightmare? Had he found out what she’d done and decided to kill her himself? But why drive out here to do it? Her mind raced as she started shaking.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Anthony demanded in a voice like thunder. Thea flinched. He continued, “Why are you hiding in the goddamn pantry? And more importantly, who are you?”
If he wanted to kill her, he would’ve done it already. Realizing that she wasn’t in any actual danger, she inhaled, trying to find the words to explain.
And then, to both their surprise, she started laughing.
Anthony let her go like she’d thrown acid on him. Thea kept laughing, knowing she sounded like a lunatic and not caring. It was so ridiculous, and she was so jacked up on adrenaline, that laughing was the only way she could calm herself down.
Anthony just stared at her, and it only made her laugh harder.
“Oh my God,” was all she could keep saying. “Oh my God, you scared the shit out of me.”
“I scared the shit out of you?” He shot her an incredulous look. “What the hell are you doing here? I’ve rented this cabin for me and me only. Are you homeless?”
At that question, Thea’s laughter faded. She was wearing old sweats and her hair needed a good wash, but she hardly looked homeless.
“You’ve rented this cabin? I think you’ve made a mistake. I’ve rented this cabin for two weeks. So you’re the one intruding,” she said.
Anthony shook his head, his jaw clenching. She couldn’t help but notice that her nemesis was even handsomer in person: his jaw was practically cut from marble, his hair dark as the night outside. His eyes were dark, too, although if she looked more closely, she could see specks of gold in them.
Not that she was looking. No way.
And then she realized he wore nothing but boxers. She’d been so terrified that his near nakedness just hadn’t registered. Her face heated as she took in his muscular torso, his chiseled abdomen and pectorals. His chest was covered in dark hair, while more dark hair pointed straight down to the waistband of his boxers.
She swallowed, mouth dry. As if he’d known she was ogling him, Anthony just crossed his arms and raised one dark eyebrow.
“Who. The. Hell. Are. You?” he asked slowly, raking her with his gaze. “If you aren’t homeless, then why the fuck are you in my cabin?”
Thea sighed. The adrenaline leaving her system made her feel shaky, and it was difficult to put the threads of all of this together. And it didn’t help that Thea didn’t know if she should tell Anthony her name. What if he knew exactly who’d started that campaign against his company?
She had no idea how they’d know—she and Mittens had been careful—but Anthony had contacts and money. That alone should make her wary. Then again, if they did know, he would’ve sent his lawyers after her already.
But his angry gaze told her he wasn’t about to let her keep silent. Deciding to stick with the truth, she said, “My name is Thea. And who are you?” She knew who he was, obviously, but she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of her recognizing him.
“Anthony Bertram. Now my next question,” he said as he went to the fridge and opened it. “Where the hell did all of my food go?”
Anthony had come downstairs to have a midnight snack because he couldn’t sleep, only to find a damn crazy woman in the kitchen. He still wasn’t totally convinced she wasn’t going to stab him. But considering she was half his size and hadn’t tried to stab him a second time, he had a feeling she’d been as surprised as he’d been.
The knife on the floor gleamed up at him. Picking it up, he sent Thea an ironic glance. He placed the knife back in the knife block and once again gestured to the fridge. “What happened to my food?” he asked again. Because really, he’d come downstairs for something to eat, and his food had disappeared. Had she eaten it all while he’d been upstairs?
She said, “That’s what you’re worried about here? Your deli meat that’s filled with sodium and that will make your heart explode someday?”
Oh God, she was one of those people. He groaned, shutting the fridge. His appetite had disappeared, anyway. He needed to get this woman out of the cabin. Right now.
She was crazy, yes, but when she’d launched herself at him, he’d felt that she was a pleasant armful of womanly curves. She wasn’t his type in the slightest: her hair was too short, she had a septum ring in her nose and a sleeve of tattoos all along her right arm. She was also obnoxiously short. He preferred women tall enough that he didn’t get a neck ache from kissing them.
Not that he wanted to kiss her. He didn’t kiss crazy.
He’d driven up to the cabin earlier that day, looking forward to being alone for the next two weeks. Amid the PR fiasco, he’d forgotten about his reservation until Cara had reminded him. He’d considered canceling, but he didn’t want to give Bruce and the other members of the board the satisfaction. Bruce would see it as weakness, would think he’d gotten to Anthony.
Anthony would still be working anyway—that couldn’t be avoided—and he’d made certain that the cabin he had chosen had reliable Wi-Fi. Besides, Cara was a phone call away, and he could get back to Seattle within three hours if all else failed.
Leaning against the kitchen counter, Anthony crossed his arms. “How about you explain why you’re here?” he said. First, he needed to take care of this woman.
“Because I’m renting this cabin for two weeks.” Her expression turned mulish. “So why are you here?”
Pulling out his phone, he brought up the email from Ted, confirming his reservation. “You must have gotten the dates mixed up.” He showed her the email.
But to his dismay, she pulled out her own phone—one with a cracked screen that he could barely read off—and he read that she’d gotten the same confirmation email. You’re confirmed for the Peaceful Waters Cabin at Mighty Pine, April 3–17. They were the exact same dates as in his confirmation email.
He thrust her phone back at her. “Then there’s a mix-up. I’ll call Ted in the morning, get you a refund.” He wanted to wring Ted’s neck. How could he have let this happen? Who booked two strangers at the same time?
“Why should I leave?” Thea countered. She mirrored Anthony by crossing he
r arms, which only made her small breasts more obvious. He decided to ignore that. “I have as much of a right to stay here as you. Besides, you’re rich. You can go anywhere. I’ve saved up for this trip, while I’m sure this is just a drop in the bucket for you.”
“Who says I’m rich?” he said, despite it being completely true.
“Because you have the face of a rich douche, and you’re wearing an expensive watch. Pretty easy to guess everything else.”
“I’ll have to do something about being so obvious.”
He called Cara, needing to get this sorted out. Cara was used to getting phone calls at all hours of the night. If anyone could get this crazy woman a hotel room or find a new cabin for her, it was Cara.
“What are you doing?” Thea demanded.
Anthony ignored her.
“Cara, there’s a situation. I need you to find me a hotel room for tonight. Somewhere near the cabin. Yes, tonight. No, it’s not for me—”
Before he could hear Cara’s reply, Thea took the phone out of his hand and ended the call. Anthony stared down at her, immense irritation filling him.
“Give me my phone back,” he said in the same tone of voice he used with people he was ten seconds away from eviscerating. The same voice that made employees quiver in their boots. He’d made more than one intern cry when he’d used this particular voice.
Thea, however, didn’t look like she was going to burst into tears. She merely tipped her chin up in defiance.
He towered over her and slowly began to force her backward until she bumped into the wall. So close to her, he could smell her—something citrusy yet also spicy—and he could see that her eyes were a dark grayish green. He was so close that only an inch or two separated them.
She’d put her hands behind her back, the phone still clutched in her grip.