Bad Duke_An Enemies to Lovers Romance

by Emily Bishop

  Chapter Two

  Lorn

  How the hell did I get into this mess?

  The petite blonde woman walks on, not paying attention to her surroundings. She’s lucky to stay on the trail at all, given her obvious lack of any form of sense.

  Why me?

  We haven’t been introduced. In my old world, that would have been the first part of the conversation.

  Hi, how are you? I’m Lorn. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.

  Blah, blah blah. Words. Meaningless. So often lies. I don’t need to know this woman’s name. I need her gone, so I can have my solitude back.

  My gaze bores into the back of Miss Independent’s head.

  Her hair is swept up in a stylish ponytail. Her eyes are the color of leaves in the deep summer—probably the deepest shade of green I’ve ever seen. Her ass is perfectly curved, her figure petite and nicely displayed through her well-fitted clothing.

  My groin tingles, and I glower. Nothing will happen between me and this woman, or any woman. I’ve made my bed, and now I lie in it, alone. The fact that her body turns me on at all is enough to piss me off even more. Her mere presence here is throwing off the essence of peace I have worked so hard to find.

  I want her gone.

  I need to clear my mind.

  One of the guests mentioned losing a watch before they left and gave me their number and address if I find it. There’s a reward attached, but I don’t care about it. I don’t need the money. I’ll have to search for it another time—it wasn’t up on the common hiking trail folks use around here.

  My gaze scans the ground as we walk, and I focus my thoughts on the watch while also trying to ensure that the woman doesn’t get us lost again.

  A snowflake lands on my nose, and I look up. The sky is a dark, cloudy gray. A flurry of snowflakes joins the first, all of them thick and heavy as they drop on us one by one.

  “Great. Just great,” the woman grumbles.

  I grin. Maybe the more uncomfortable she is, the faster she’ll leave. Hope springs eternal. Maybe I’ll take her on a longer walk than necessary, play up the dangers of getting lost around here. The sooner she’s back in her little limo or whatever, back to wherever she came from, the better.

  Something glints in the corner of my eye, and I look to the left to see the watch dotted with snowflakes on the side of the trail.

  Bingo.

  I scoop it up and continue walking. The snow increases around us, and visibility becomes a bigger issue. The woman picks up her pace, presumably hoping to get to the cabin before the snow gets too bad, and I watch as she slips and stumbles forward, landing on her face.

  “Ugh!”

  I can tell by her tone that she’s more annoyed than hurt, but I can’t help myself. No matter what I’ve been through, this woman needs my help. I step forward and kneel, reach around her waist, and lift her up. She goes still in my arms, and when she steadies, she looks up at me with those big, beautiful eyes.

  I hate eyes like those.

  My body hums as we stare at one another, frozen as snow envelops us. She blinks, then pulls back, and I drop my hands.

  What the hell was that about? Get it together, Lorn.

  “I said I don’t need your help,” she says.

  What is this woman’s deal?

  “I believe the correct phrase is ‘thank you.’ Would you like to practice saying it together? You’ve been missing out on some great opportunities to use those words since I found you.”

  “I’m not going to thank you for manhandling me. I can stand up on my own. I’m not a child.”

  I nod. “Yes, I am aware. Now are you going to continue quarreling with me, or can we speak civilly?”

  “Those are some pretty big words for a country bumpkin. Do you spend your free time reading the dictionary?”

  She’s trying to belittle me, get a rise out of me. What pisses me off the most is it’s working. She has no idea who I am, nor where I was educated. If she did, she’d change her attitude, fast.

  “Have you always been a terrible person?”

  “Me? You’re the one directly ignoring my wishes. I told you to leave me alone!”

  “And I told you it’s not safe to let a greenhorn wander around in the woods solo.”

  “That was the entire point of coming here!” Her voice ricochets off the trees around us, and I step back and cross my arms. Perhaps it’s best to let her have her fit and be done with it, then we can move on. Will that tactic work?

  I might not have the patience for it.

  I stare at her until she huffs at me in frustration. It’s kind of nice knowing she’s as aggravated as I am. Maybe if I keep annoying her, she’ll leave.

  Something has to work, and fast. I want to be left alone.

  “Listen, I know this resort is the only place up here where anyone stays, and I purposefully rented out every single cabin around this lake for the next month. You shouldn’t be here!”

  I quirk an eyebrow as I take in that little piece of information. I was expecting a full party today, and only in the evening. Definitely, not one lost woman in the afternoon. “There is one cabin about twenty feet from here that is not for rent, because it belongs to me. I’m the owner of this land.”

  Her eyes widen at this piece of news, then she crosses her arms at me and glares again. Even when she glares, she’s beautiful.

  Did I mention she needs to go?

  “Some host you’ve been.”

  “I’ve done nothing but try to help you, and you have been rude at every possible chance. I am not in the wrong here, Miss…”

  I draw a blank. I should probably know the name, since I approved the rentals. But at this point, I usually sign the dotted line at the bottom and walk back out. I’ve been busy with the storm on its way. Everything about this past week has been a blur.

  She hesitates, like she’s thinking about whether to give me a fake name or not. She has to know that I have access to the paperwork, now that she knows who I am. Her shoulders lower.

  “It’s Rayne.”

  I step forward and stand a foot away from her. In the cold, I can feel her warmth, and I know I’m standing uncomfortably close, but I want her to be uncomfortable. I want her to want to leave, but I don’t want to go about it the wrong way. There’s a businessman and a gentleman deep down in me somewhere. Time has hidden them, thankfully, but they are there.

  I stick out my hand for her to shake. “Rayne. I am Lorn. Welcome to my establishment. Because of the nature of your arrival and the nature of this storm, I have no choice but to bring you to my cabin for safety until it passes, likely for the night.” I’ve been prepping for the winter for weeks, but my cabin is the closest, and it’s by far the most secure.

  She steps back and ignores my hand. I feel like an idiot standing there with it out, so I drop it.

  “Absolutely not. I don’t even know you. Besides, it’s not snowing that much. We can get to the main cabin. You said it was only a thirty-minute walk.”

  “Yes, I did. That, of course, was under the assumption that weather conditions are good. There is a steep hill that leads to that cabin. You might have noticed we’re in quite mountainous terrain. That hill will be near impossible to hike down in this weather, in the dark. Had you driven to the main entrance like a normal person, we could have accommodated you. As it is, you will now be inconveniencing both of us. Well done.”

  It might be the longest string of sentences I’ve spoken in months. I don’t like it. I shouldn’t have to explain common sense to some city slicker. I chuckle inwardly at the term, like I’m anyone to talk. I stare her down, and I feel like I’ve seen her before, but I dismiss the thought. If you’ve seen one pretty blonde, you’ve seen them all.

  I’m not giving this woman a chance to invade my life any more than is necessary. This is for safety only, and that’s that.

  She crosses her arms again. Stubborn. Great. Don’t have enough stubborn in my life.

  “I h
ad my reasons.”

  “And I’m sure they were perfectly admirable, but the longer we stay out here, the worse conditions are going to get. We’re going to my cabin. Discussion over.”

  “No, the discussion is not over. You clearly have survival skills enough to walk another twenty minutes or so. I refuse to be misled from my path.”

  “Look, I’m sure where you’re from, when you make spoiled little demands like that, people jump to make it happen, but this isn’t your territory. If you don’t like it, I’ll issue a full refund and get you home. Tomorrow. Because tonight we’re staying in my cabin, whether you like it or not.”

  “There will be no refund.” She stomps up to me and now we’re standing closer than ever. I catch a whiff of expensive-smelling perfume and hold my breath.

  Keep it together, man.

  “I will not be leaving this place until my purpose is served,” she continues. “You can try everything you want to try to keep me away. It’s clearly what you want. I’m not one to back down.”

  I dip my head, so she can feel my breath on her face when I talk. The little cherub’s face is set in a stubborn line, and she doesn’t back away.

  Admirable. Annoying, but admirable.

  “Neither am I,” I whisper.

  Her eyes widen, and her gaze darts to my lips for a fraction of a second, but I don’t miss the movement.

  What am I doing?

  I step back and gesture toward a turn in the path.

  “This way, then.”

  She blinks a few times as she regains her wits and glances down the path, then she looks back up at me.

  We’re running out of time. Snow collects on our heads, our shoulders. The ground has turned white, and the temperature lowers at a rapid pace. I watch her debate whether to keep the fight up. She relents and bends to pick up her suitcase again. It slides along the ground as she stomps ahead of me, in the direction of my cabin.

  If a half-truth will work, I’ll use it. I don’t care. A clearing opens up ahead of us. My cabin is a cozy oasis in the snowy mountainscape. A stream of warm smoke pours from a little black chimney. The building is made of sturdy brown wood with a nice front porch stocked high with firewood for the winter. When Rayne sees it, I watch her shoulders slump again from behind.

  “I take it this isn’t the main cabin.”

  “Nope,” I agree.

  I step ahead of her and kick my boots against the bottom step before I leap up the porch and open the front door.

  “Welcome to my humble abode. One night, then we’re both free to be solitary.”

  I can’t wait.

  Chapter Three

  Rayne

  I’m still not convinced this is a good idea. I wish it was because I feared for my safety. I’ve pretty much realized at this point that Lorn wants less to do with me than I do him.

  No. I’m more scared that I’m going to do something inappropriate. The man is intoxicating. I can’t fathom what it is about him that has my body reacting this way, but it scares me. I don’t want to be attracted to this backwoods buffoon.

  Then again, given our conversation, it’s pretty clear that Lorn is no uneducated mountain man. There’s a sharp intelligence behind his eyes, and he’s matched me answer for answer, not giving me any room to be right.

  I hate that in a man.

  I walk up the porch steps and cast a wary glance behind me. The world is cast in fluttering shades of white as snowflakes plummet to the ground en masse. There certainly shouldn’t be anyone but the two of us here.

  The two of us.

  “Goddamnit, Helen,” I grumble as I walk past Lorn. When my assistant booked this place, she assured me that I would be the only person within a hundred miles. I figured there might be a person or two running the main cabin, but this man roams the land. He could easily get in my way on a regular basis.

  That is not what I envisioned.

  Warmth overtakes me as I step inside. The scent of wooden walls and a cozy fire permeate the entire space, and I’m reminded of a cozy Christmas scene from a card. The fire is in a black woodstove, which pumps heat into the space, and I am instantly warmed through. A large sofa sits in front of the fire. Two large cases full of books line one wall. A small kitchen stands off to the side, and various black pots and pans dangle from the ceiling there.

  I’m feeling very Seven Brides for Seven Brothers right now. Maybe Lorn will make me do all his chores. God, that’s ridiculous. The place is immaculate—how much time does he even spend in here?

  If I were him, I’d never leave. It’s the most comfortable place in the world.

  I move to stand next to the fire. I’m not quite ready to remove my jacket. I may be warm, but I want to be toasty. The cold dissolves, and I’m grateful that this burly mountain man found me. If he hadn’t, I could have been in for a rough and scary night.

  I can feel his presence in the room. He’s impossible to ignore. I wonder that he even fits in this cabin, he’s so large. He moves to stand next to me before the woodstove and holds his hands out to the heat.

  “Are you hungry?” His voice is warming up from use.

  My stomach grumbles at his question—I haven’t eaten since before I boarded the flight to get here this morning.

  “I could eat,” I say.

  I’m warm enough now that I’m growing uncomfortable, so I unzip my jacket and strip it off my shoulders. Lorn reaches over and grabs it without asking, and he places it on the back of the couch.

  “I can make some instant noodles. I’m not completely bereft of modern conveniences. I do have a microwave.”

  I glance up at him and can hardly repress my laugh.

  “Microwave instant noodles? Seriously?”

  He steps back, and his expression closes. I’ve offended him. He’s offered me his home and his food, and I’ve done nothing but fight him every step of the way.

  Whatever my situation, it is not Lorn’s fault. I step forward and place a hand on his forearm. He’s still wearing his coat. He’s got to be hot.

  I mean, he’s hot, obviously. But like, temperature hot.

  “Hey, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be so rude to you. I didn’t expect this adventure to start quite this way, and I lost control of a situation, which I can’t stand. Anyway, I’m sorry.”

  His eyes widen in surprise at this, like he didn’t ever expect kindness from me. He’s mentioned several times that all he wants is to be left alone, too. Why?

  He nods, and I find that it’s a struggle to remove my fingertips from his muscular forearm. What does it look like under all this pesky cloth?

  Wait, no. Focus, Rayne. This is alone time. Don’t complicate it.

  “Apology accepted. Are you still too good for instant ramen?”

  This time, I do smile up at him. “Absolutely. Are you willing to give me access to your kitchen? As payment for your kindness I can teach you a thing or two about cooking.”

  “Oh? And what makes you the expert?”

  “Twenty-five restaurants and bakeries, all across the globe.”

  “You own a restaurant chain? That’s how you can afford to rent out this entire place?”

  I’ve given away too much. I need to keep the mystery alive here, for my own safety. I shrug and feign nonchalance. “Something like that. Anyway, I can cook. Do you want a delicious meal tonight, or would you prefer to dine on some stale old noodles?”

  “They’ve been good enough for me these past few…”

  He stops, like he’s also caught himself giving too much away. His eyes take me in, and he measures me up. He doesn’t trust me, that much I can tell. I can’t fully trust him, either.

  That doesn’t mean we can’t share a meal together.

  I roll up the sleeves to my ribbed candy-red sweater and walk toward the kitchen, tossing a glance back over my shoulder. “Take your coat off and stay a while. I’m going to see what you have, and we’ll go from there.”

  The sound of stunned silence behind me is deeply satisfyin
g.

  I reach the kitchen, which is also fashioned entirely out of wood, minus the appliances, and take stock. Given the surroundings, it’s surprisingly updated. The countertops are a dark shade of granite. The appliances are stainless steel.

  Yes, this will do nicely. Provided there are edible options in here.

  “I took you for the kind of guy who would kill a deer, skin it, then eat it over the course of several months. How is it that someone like you eats ramen?”

  “How is it that someone like you is too good for it?”

  Point to Lorn. I’m not about to give out any more information about myself, and apparently, neither is he. I leave that comment to hang in the air as I open the fridge. The light bulb flashes over a nearly empty space, though there are some fresh vegetables that still have some life left tucked in a bottom drawer.

  “OK, these we can use.”

  I wonder if he’s going to protest, tell me to get out of his kitchen and go brave the cold. When he doesn’t, I continue on, opening cabinets until I find a good variety of canned goods that, in a pinch, can be served up as a delicious meal.

  “Can you open those cans for me?” I ask, pointing at a stack on the counter.

  To my surprise, Lorn does as I ask. He moves in by my side, and we stand shoulder to shoulder as I dice vegetables and he opens cans. The place where his arm brushes against mine tingles. Somewhere between the living room and the kitchen, he removed his coat.

  His arms are exposed by a black T-shirt, and they’re inked all the way down.

  “Whoa, I didn’t expect you to be a tattoo kind of guy.”

  “Apparently, you’ve had many expectations of me, none of which I’ve lived up to. Or perhaps you are simply small minded and made judgments based on preconceived notions of those who choose to live a quiet life in nature.”

  I blink, unable to find a good retort to that.

  “Well, uh. You like ramen.”

  I sneak a glance up at him, and he smirks back down at me. He knows he won another point there. He’s talked circles around me since we met. I need to clear my head, but it’s impossible when those eyes are searing right through me.