“Chopper?” he asked before he could stop himself. He’d begun to sound like a damned parrot. “Why do you have a chopper deliver your supplies?”
She stopped ladling the stew and set the bowls on the plain wooden table. Setting a loaf of homemade bread in the center, she plunked down two cups and a pitcher of water on the table and sat down.
“Because I’m in the middle of nowhere or haven’t you noticed?” She took a bite of bread, then sipped stew from her spoon. “Normally I wouldn’t invite a stranger into my home, but you have nowhere else to go for miles and the chopper won’t be here for another week.” She thinned her lips. “So, you’re stuck with me, for the time being.”
“Why do you live out here in the middle of nowhere, Miss . . .?”
“I live out here because I like it. We are in a very remote section of Northwestern Montana. There are no roads to bring you here. Only a helicopter can get here.” She looked around. “That’s why most everything in the cabin is handmade. The table and chairs, the bed . . .”
“Do you like living out here? Isn’t it dangerous? An animal could attack you and you would have no one to help.”
She snorted. “It’s not wild animals that I’m afraid of.”
Chapter Two
Cammie stared down into her stew and scooped up another bite. It was nice to have someone to talk to other than herself for a change. But she still didn’t know what in the hell she was going to do with him.
“You can’t leave off with a cryptic statement like that and not expect me to be curious.”
She shrugged and wrapped her hands around her glass to stay their trembling. He could be curious all he wanted. She would share her story with him if, and when, she was ready.
He nodded. “I see. I suppose you’re right. It is none of my business. I just wondered why such a beautiful woman would be hiding out in the middle of nowhere.”
Her face heated and she hated that he could see her blushing. Good grief! She’d been out here alone way too long if a single compliment could make her blush.
“I didn’t mean to embarrass you, Miss . . .”
“Cammie. Call me Cammie, everyone does.”
“Cammie?”
She nodded. “It’s short for Camile. Since I hate that name, I go by Cammie.” She cocked her head to the side. “And you are?”
“Liam.”
“Just Liam?”
“I’m afraid I don’t remember my last name.”
“Ah, that’s right. Your amnesia.” She wasn’t sure she believed him. His face does have an I’m telling you the truth quality about it. Perhaps he really did have amnesia. Or, perhaps, he was another of Mr. Carpenter’s thugs.
Would the man still go to such lengths to find her? It had been years since she’d holed herself up here in these mountains. Other than her regular quarterly visits from her chopper pilot, she’d spent three long years here. Years of solitude, with nothing to keep her going but writing her memoirs, her detective fiction and the occasional satellite phone conversations with her editors. What a wonderful end for the best investigative reporter in the Chicago metropolitan area.
He looked down at himself and she decided that she rather liked a man who could turn such a wonderful shade of red. And his accent. The man had a voice to die for. Was that an Irish accent?
“I don’t suppose you have something I could wear, do you?”
She did have a pair of baggy sweats she never wore but she didn’t think they would fit him.
“Let me see if I can find something.”
Anything would be better than that dinky towel that hung precariously from his hips like a misplaced bandage. While she wouldn’t complain about seeing all that bare masculine flesh, she didn’t want to jump the poor man either.
After several minutes of rummaging through her belongings, she got lucky and found a two pairs of Bruce’s jeans she’d not had the heart to discard after he left her and three oversized T-shirts. She didn’t find any underwear though, so he’d just have to suck it up and go commando.
“Here you go. It’s not much, but it should last you until next week and we get you into town to see a doctor.” She handed him the clothes and he excused himself, stepped behind the screen in the corner of the room and got dressed.
Cammie frowned as he dressed, wondering what in the hell she would do with him for ten days. Ten long days to remain cooped up in this tiny cabin with nothing to do. Her eyes traveled down over the snug, too short jeans and tight T-shirt when he stepped from behind the dressing screen. Oh, she could think of plenty to do, but it would ultimately end up breaking someone’s heart. Most likely hers.
She resisted the urge to fan herself when he strode back toward the table. Oh, the pants may be too short, and he looked like he was waiting for a flood, but the too tight shirt stretched across his muscles, made him a sight to behold. It was all she could do not to drool into the rest of her dinner.
“What?” he asked, covering his crotch with one hand while he tested the zipper with the other. “Is there something wrong?”
Cammie swallowed around the lump in her throat and shook her head. She wondered how many days he would be here before she gave in to the urge to jump his beautiful bones.
“No. Absolutely not. There is nothing wrong.”
Nothing, nothing , nothing. Stop staring for goodness sakes. You have been up here alone way too long, Cammie.
She sat back in her chair and enjoyed the view. She finally resigned herself to the fact that they would be lovers before their wait was up. He was too perfect a specimen of manhood to resist for ten days.
No. There definitely was nothing wrong with the way the soft cotton molded his chest, pulling against his muscles. She loved the way it framed his broad chest and washboard abs. The ripples visible beneath the fabric fired her blood and her body warmed. Moisture settled between her legs and she squeezed her thighs tighter in an attempt to keep her clit from twitching.
He sat back down across from her and she suddenly found her stew very interesting.
“Um . . . We have to work out the sleeping arrangements.”
“I will sleep on the floor.”
Drop dead gorgeous and a gentleman to boot? Damn! He was gay. She shook her head. No, gay men didn’t get a massive hard-on while naked women sat on their chests pumping water from their lungs. That had to be a completely heterosexual male response.
“You can’t sleep on the floor. Today was a relatively warm day, unusual for this time of year, really. The temperature still drops well below freezing at night.”
She took another bite of stew and tried to work up the courage to admit that they would have to share the bed because she didn’t have enough blankets to warm them both otherwise. The temperature inside would drop drastically soon after she banked the fire.
“Since I don’t have enough wood to keep the fire going round the clock, I bank the fire an hour or two after sunset and spend the rest of the night trying to keep warm under the covers.” She pressed her lips into a thin smile. “So, like it or not, we’ll have to share the bed for warmth.” And something told her she was going to be hot tonight.
Her face burned at his slow perusal and she dipped her head to stare down at her bowl again. God, this was embarrassing. Did he think she was going to jump him or something? Never mind that it was exactly what she wanted to do. She would never act on it. Well, not unless he wanted her to.
Get a grip will you, Cammie? The man doesn’t want to sleep in the same bed with you to stay warm, let alone have wild and sweaty sex.
She sighed down at her bowl and lifted another spoonful to her lips. That was the story of her life. Men didn’t mind ogling her boobs or hopping in the sack for a few nights of fun, but no one wanted a relationship with Chicago’s top investigative reporter. Well, she was on the top three years ago. Now she just wanted the world to forget she ever existed. Especially one Neiman Carpenter.
After dinner, she covered the stew and left it set o
n the table. There was no need to worry about it spoiling tonight. In fact, she would probably wake up to find it frozen come morning, if the wind whistling through the trees was any indication.
“I’m sorry I don’t have anything big enough for you to sleep in and you can’t possibly sleep in those ridiculously tight jeans. I’ll be dressed in my flannel pajamas so, if you’ll be more comfortable, I would suggest sleeping in the nude.” Don’t think about that delicious hard body sleeping next to you naked. She chanted the words in her mind.
Cammie grabbed her pajamas and slippers and carried them behind the screen to change. Her hands shook as she fumbled with her buttons. She needed to get a grip on herself. Her hormones were running rampant with so much testosterone in such close proximity. With her toys, she hadn’t really missed a physical relationship with a man. But she couldn’t very well whip out her rabbit and go to town with him lying right next her watching. She closed her eyes and gave a muffled groan. This was going to be the longest ten days of her life.
Chapter Three
For the first time in five years, Cammie wished she had a TV—something, anything to take her mind off sex as they climbed into bed. She averted her gaze as he undressed, but not before she got another good look at his well-shaped rear. Man, there wasn’t anything better than a great ass on a guy. Well, except for a big—stop it! Stop wondering about the size of the man’s extra appendage for crying out loud. You had your chance to look earlier today.
She closed her eyes as he slid into bed behind her. God this is so stupid. You don’t know a thing about the man. He could be a serial killer or a rapist. She almost laughed at the last thought. She’d have to be unwilling for that and if the moisture between her legs and the pulsing of her clit was any indication, she was far from unwilling.
An hour and a half later, she lay tossing and turning in her bed while her naked guest slept like the dead behind her. The jerk. Wasn’t it just like a man, to snore through anything?
She’d been right though. She was warm—quite possibly warmer than she’d been in a long time. Heat radiated off him. It was like sleeping next to a heater. Well, more like salivating next to one. Cammie couldn’t keep her eyes off him. Once he’d gone to sleep, it was like a free for all stare-fest and he was the main attraction.
Groaning under her breath, she rolled over and put her head beneath the pillow. She couldn’t stand it anymore. If she looked at him, felt him or breathed his spicy scent into her lungs one more time she would scream.
Finally after covering him with the blanket, to bar her view of his exposed chest and stomach, she was able to relax. It was only a matter of time before she drifted off.
* * * *
Liam woke with a raging hard on. Cammie lay pressed against him, snuggling into their combined warmth. He resisted the urge to groan when she shifted and laid her hand across his lower abdomen, just above his throbbing cock. Gods, what would he do if she didn’t move off him soon? He may just roll over, rip her cute flannel pajamas from her body and fuck her until she screamed. Hell, with the way he was feeling now, he might just do that anyway.
He took a deep cleansing breath and regained what little control he had over his powerful libido. One look at this woman was enough to drive a sane man crazy with desire. He wasn’t sure he’d been sane at all since he first looked up into her fathomless green eyes.
Liam slid out from under her hand. He gritted his teeth as her soft fingers gently caressed his stomach and groin as he moved out from beneath her. It was a good thing he needed to piss. It was a good reason for him to stride out into the cold of the early march morning and rid himself of this libidinous behavior.
Perhaps he’d sit himself down in a large snow bank, if he could find one. He frowned. Wasn’t March this far North in the United States supposed to be covered in a thick blanket of snow? He made a face. How did he know that, was his memory returning?
Liam strode outside, his bare feet freezing on the cold ground. He looked down at himself and grimaced. Shouldn’t his dick have gone soft in this cold by now? He reached down, wrapped his fingers around it, closed his eyes and groaned.
That woman made him so damned horny he didn’t know if he would ever get rid of this damned hard-on without fucking her brains out. His fingers tightened and he slid his hand up and down the thick shaft. Maybe he could find at least a little relief outside her body, since he obviously wasn’t going to find it within. Not this morning at any rate.
Warmth awaited him inside, but not the physical warmth he needed right now. He reached down with his other hand and fondled his balls. He needed this sweet release while he thought of the beautiful woman who had saved his life mere hours before.
After several minutes he realized there was no way he was going to find relief out here like this. He couldn’t make himself cum no matter how hard he tried. It was too damned cold. He found the outhouse, relieved himself and headed back to the cabin. Perhaps he’d get lucky and she would distract him from his discomfort.
Cammie shrieked when he opened the door. Sunlight spilled over the floor and shone on her bare skin as she stood covering herself with her hands.
“I—I thought you’d be gone for a while,” she stammered as he stood and stared at her naked perfection. “Do you mind?” She scowled at him and grabbed one of the blankets from the bed when he just stood looking his fill. “Either get out and close the door or get your ass in here and close the door. And close your damned eyes while you’re at it,” she added when he stepped inside and closed the door behind him.
He closed his eyes while she dressed, imagining her body’s perfection as she did so. The sound of her soft breathing and the rustle of her clothes did nothing for his painful erection. He stood still, doing little more than imagining her lush body naked and glowing in the bright light of the morning sun.
“Make yourself useful and start a fire, will you?” Fully dressed, she sat on the bed, tying her shoes. “After you get the fire going, hang the frozen stew over it to thaw and simmer, will you? I’m going to go for a run. I’ll be back in about an hour.”
Liam watched as she left the cabin, wondering if he should go with her, then shook his head. No. She was accustomed to doing things her way and he was quite sure she wouldn’t appreciate his interference in her daily rituals.
He watched, silent, as the door slammed behind her. He only dropped his gaze when he felt a bead of pre-cum dribbling down the length of his shaft. Why wouldn’t the damn thing behave? Just the memory of her glorious body and wonderful scent was enough to keep him hard, even in her absence.
He ran his hands through his hair, causing the tangled mass to stand up in sharp spikes. He strode over to the rough-hewn chair he’d laid the too small jeans over the night before. After he forced his poor abused and neglected dick behind the constricting material, barely missing the catch of the zipper, he glanced around the interior of the cabin. There wasn’t much here to keep him occupied, that was for sure.
Mere minutes had passed since Cammie left and already he was bored. Who the hell did he think he was kidding? The plain and simple truth was he missed her, a hell of a lot more than he cared to admit. It was almost as if a part of him followed her out into the cold mountain morning.
With nothing else to do, and no way to battle his extreme boredom, Liam decided to stretch out on the bed, with the hope that if he let himself relax, he might get lucky and remember something, anything, about his past.
Some time later, an ear-piercing shriek shattered the peaceful trance he’d managed to slip into. All thoughts about his past, his life, disappeared the moment he heard the bone chilling terror in Cammie’s scream.
He rolled off the bed in one fluid motion and headed for the door. He gave little thought to the cold ground beneath his feet as he stood outside turning in circles in an attempt to discover from which direction her scream had come.
She screamed again. Only this time the voice was muffled, like someone put their hand over her mouth
. At least now he had a direction. Liam took off though the trees, oblivious to the cold. Every one of his senses turned toward finding Cammie. He feared the worst. What could he do if a bear or cougar attacked her? He did know one thing for sure, he’d throw himself in harm’s way if it would save her.
The sound of thrashing in the bushes caught his attention and stopped his forward flight. He’d almost run right by them.
“I told you to shut up, bitch!” The harsh, raspy words carried to him on the morning breeze. Cammie’s soft sobs in the background unnerved him as her captor, unaware of Liam’s approach, pinned her to the ground with his knee planted firmly in the small of her back.
“Yeah, I found her,” he said into the small radio he pulled from a case on his hip. “Ya want me to do her now?”
Liam stiffened at the words, ready to defend her with his life. His muscles tense, he stared wide-eyed at her captor as he stayed hidden in the dense brush, waiting.
The thug shook his head. His greasy hair fell over his eyes, blocking his view. He obviously wanted her to watch as he leered at her. With a negligent swipe, he pushed the hair back from her face. Spittle dribbled out of the corner of his mouth, but he paid no attention to it.
“You’re a pretty little thing aren’t you? Maybe that’s why they want you alive.” He made a show of licking his lips. “I’m going to make sure I get a taste of you before they cap you though. Aren’t you the lucky one?” He stood then nudged her in the side with the toe of his boot. “Get up, damn it. I’m not carrying your ass off this godforsaken mountain.”
Liam ran from the woods while the man dragged her to her feet. He tackled her assailant, throwing him to the ground with a bone-crunching thud. The radio flew from his hand and hit the ground, his gun followed not far behind.
Chapter Four
Ohmigod, ohmigod. They found me. How did they find me? Cammie’s mind raced as the man dragged her to her feet.
What to do with a Naked Leprechaun Page 2