Claimed by her Cougar

by Felicity Heaton

  She was getting close to the coordinates she had been given now, and not even the freezing morning temperatures, or the chilly night camping that had seen her awake more than asleep, listening tensely to every noise in the darkness, could dampen her excitement.

  Black bears.

  If she could get some photographs of a mother with cubs in undisturbed habitat, it would be incredible, perfect for her series on Canadian bears, an idea she had hit on last year when trying to shatter a creative wall that had left her close to giving up photography altogether.

  Yasmin had talked her through it, always the voice of reason and support, convincing her not to give up just yet and to think of a project that could stir her passion again.

  Ivy was glad that she had listened and had decided to try a series on bears, because some of the photos she had taken of grizzlies in the fall had restored her faith and now she had found the energy she had been missing, the enthusiasm she had always had for photography.

  It wasn’t her work. It was her passion.

  One she couldn’t believe she had almost given up on now that she was back in the saddle.

  She carefully picked a path over the roots of the spruces and pines that towered above her, half of her focus on the world around her and half of it on the project.

  If things went well with the black bears, maybe she could head over to the coast and find some spirit bears. It would be more of a challenge, but she had done her research and there was a place that was off the beaten trail, just like this one. No tourist groups to disturb her work or get in the way. Just unspoilt and untamed nature at its finest. She could picture the photographs now, just as she could see the ones she could get in her current location, and another bubble of excitement burst inside her, bringing a smile to her lips.

  She could do it if her funding held.

  Ivy didn’t want to think about that, not when what had happened with one of her sponsors had sent her into her creative depression in the first place.

  She adjusted the straps of her backpack, one that he had bought her.

  One she had wanted to ditch but getting a bag of this calibre, one that could safely store all her equipment, some clothing and food, and her camping gear, was expensive, and she had never been one to do something as frivolous as throwing away a perfectly good bag and buying a replacement.

  Her budget was stretched tight enough as it was.

  She was damned if she was going to risk running out of money just to spite a man who didn’t give a damn about her.

  Ivy paused and listened, searching for the sound of the river through the patches of birdsong. Nothing. She pushed onwards, heaving a sigh as her feet started to ache in her boots. She must have walked a few miles already, had started out from her camping spot at first light, as soon as she had been able to walk without needing a flashlight.

  It was growing lighter now.

  Ahead of her, the trees thinned, and she peered through them. Golden light cast shadows, telling her there was an opening of some sort in that direction.

  She quickened her pace, the thought of standing in the weak sunlight and letting it warm her driving her more than the thought the river might be there. She needed to warm up or her brain was going to freeze. She should have found her gloves in her pack this morning, and maybe a hat, something to keep the chill off so it wasn’t such a distraction, but she had been so excited by the thought of finding black bears in this pristine wilderness that she had rushed to keep moving towards the location she had been given.

  An animal called in the distance and she stilled, her head whipping in all directions, pulse jacking up as she listened hard, trying to figure out where the sound had come from, and what had made it.

  A deer broke cover just a few metres ahead of her and she almost shrieked as she jumped and stumbled back a step. The heel of her hiking boot caught on a root and threatened to send her down, and she staggered as she fought to maintain her balance so she didn’t land on her backside, and her pack.

  The animal glanced her way, called again and bounded into the trees to her right as she grabbed the trunk of the pine to stop herself from falling and breathed hard and fast, her heart hammering as adrenaline flooded her veins, leaving her trembling.

  When the sound of its footfalls disappeared, and the birds began singing again, she breathed a little easier, focused on each one she pulled down into her lungs to steady her racing heart as she sagged against the tree.

  Damn, being so deep in the woods was making her jittery.

  She wasn’t sure she had ever ventured so far into the wilderness before, and she hadn’t realised it would put her so on edge, afraid of every noise she heard. She had been so caught up in the fact the person she had spoken to at a bar in Golden, deep in the heart of the Canadian Rockies, had told her he had seen a lot of bears in this valley in the past that she hadn’t really thought about how remote it was.

  Or how alone she was.

  Normally when she headed into the wilder places in the world, she had a guide with her.

  This time, she was flying solo.

  Looking for bears.

  Damn, she hoped she hadn’t made a terrible mistake by trekking into the middle of nowhere and wasn’t about to meet a grisly end.

  Pun intended.

  Ivy looked back over her shoulder as she palmed the bear spray hanging from her belt of her brown trousers, using the feel of it to calm her nerves. If she trekked all day, she could probably make it back to her Jeep where she had parked it at the end of a logging track. It would be dark when she got there, but she could sleep in the safety of the vehicle and drive at first light.

  She glanced at the forest around her, and shook her head, causing her ponytail to sway across the shoulders of her beige weatherproof jacket.

  No. She had to keep going forwards, wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she didn’t do this. It would always play on her mind, tormenting her with the fact she had given up when she might have been able to get award-winning photographs of bears.

  When she scanned the woods again, and spotted mist creeping through the trees below her to her right, her feet took the decision out of her hands. She marched down the slope, winding through the broad trunks of the ancient trees, and slowed as she left them behind.

  The river.

  It was eerily silent as it stretched before her, shallow and broad, rippling over rocks.

  She stared at the dense dark green woods on the other side and the mountains that speared the azure sky beyond them, the cragged peaks still laced with snow.

  The beauty of it hit her hard, had her standing still and taking it in as she swept her gaze across the scenery, to her left towards where the sun was rising, not quite visible beyond a dip in the mountains.

  She wasn’t sure she had ever been anywhere that felt so tranquil.

  Where she felt miles from civilisation.

  It was breathtaking.

  A smile crept onto her lips. The trek and the terrifying night sleeping in a flimsy tent had been worth it just to see this.

  She followed the rocky bank of the river, letting it lead her now, forgetting her GPS, sure this was the spot the old man had told her about, and that she would get the photographs of bears that she wanted here, if she had a little patience.

  And damn, they were going to be amazing.

  She could feel it as a shiver over her skin, a sweep of prickles that stirred her excitement to a whole new level and had her looking at all the angles, seeking just the right one to make a composition that would blow the world away.

  She found it as she rounded a bend in the river and the trees hugging the bank eased away from it, allowing the scenery to open up.

  It was perfect.

  Incredible.

  The shallow river rippled over rocks, flowing swiftly around the bend, and trees enclosed it on both sides. The mountains embraced those trees, rising high into the sky. Yes, this was the place. She was going to get the shots she wanted here, she was
sure of it.

  As the sun broke the horizon above the mountains, and mist swirled across the river, she reached for her camera. She had to photograph it. It was too beautiful to let it slip through her grasp. She pulled her backpack off, set it down on the bank near the trees and unzipped it, taking out her camera. She fixed a wide-angle lens on it, one that would give her enough field of view to really capture the beauty of the valley but could zoom to give her a close up if a bear appeared, and positioned herself.

  Ivy snapped a picture and looked down at the screen of her Nikon, smiled at the shot, adjusted her settings, and lifted her camera to take another. As she swept it across the scenery, looking for the best composition, she imagined a black bear emerging from the haze and how perfect it would be. It was a magical scene as the sun rose and mist hung just above the rippling water, and it would only be made even more magical by a bear.

  She took a handful of photographs, the changing light as the sun rose leading her to take another and then another, documenting the splendour of the scene as it subtly shifted.

  She had never seen anything so beautiful.

  So breathtaking.

  She swung her camera left, towards the side of the river she was on, wanting to capture a shot of it with the glacier in the distance and the sun rising above it.

  A shape loomed in the mist, disturbing it, and her heart lodged in her throat, a thrill chasing through her as she pressed down on the shutter release, sure it was a bear.

  But as the mist parted, it wasn’t a bear that emerged.

  It was a man.

  A mountain of one.

  He moved towards her with a predator’s gait, prowling through the mist that tried to cling to his long powerful jeans-clad legs and the cuffs of his worn dark green fleece, the sun rising behind him casting golden highlights in his thick dark hair. His square jaw, shadowed by stubble, tensed and his stony grey eyes darkened as they narrowed on her.

  It took Ivy a moment to realise he was talking to her.

  “You’re trespassing.” His gravelly deep voice rolled over her, a growl that suited his appearance.

  He looked more dangerous than the wild animals in these parts.

  A hunter?

  She wasn’t sure how she was trespassing. As far as she knew, no one owned the land she was on, and she had done her research to make sure she didn’t accidentally do exactly what he was accusing her of doing.

  He lowered his steely grey eyes and his handsome face twisted in a savage expression as they landed on her camera.

  “Hand it over.” He held his right hand out to her.

  Ivy clutched her camera to her chest. Like hell she was handing it over to him. It had cost her thousands of dollars.

  “No.” She eased back a step and glanced at her backpack where it sat on the bank a few metres behind her, and then at the man.

  He looked fit, and as if he belonged in this wild world, and she wasn’t sure she would make it more than a few metres if she tried to run. He would easily catch her. Her heart pounded at that, and she wasn’t sure whether it was out of fear or something else.

  Something she was not going to examine closely.

  The bear spray on her belt suddenly felt heavy, and she was tempted to use it on him, would if it came to it, even though it was against the law. Diplomacy was always the first weapon she reached for in situations like this though, one that often had the desired effect. He wasn’t the first man to attempt to block her path, and he wouldn’t be the last.

  He continued to scowl at her camera. “Why are you here?”

  “I’m photographing bears.” She debated showing him the pictures in the hope it would convince him that she wasn’t a threat, but hit two snags.

  He would have to get close to her in order to see them, meaning he could easily snatch her camera or her, and she had put a fresh memory card in the camera last night, not wanting to have to scramble for a new one if she ran out of space when photographing bears.

  He didn’t look as if he believed her.

  Ivy turned towards her bag, heart slamming as she decided to risk it and find the memory card she had with photos on it.

  The man was behind her in an instant, closing the distance so swiftly that it tore a shocked gasp from her lips as his left hand locked around her right wrist.

  She stumbled as he pulled her towards her backpack and twisted her arm in his hand, trying to break free.

  The bastard had a grip like iron.

  She clutched her camera with her left hand and struggled harder, adrenaline flooding her veins to push her to fight for her freedom as her blood rushed, heart thundering in her throat. “Get off me.”

  Screw diplomacy.

  Ivy released her camera and seized her bear spray in trembling fingers, yanking it from her belt and aiming it at him. He launched his other hand towards her and snatched the canister before she could depress the trigger, scowled at it and then at her, and started pulling her along again.

  “You need to answer some questions.” The dark note in his voice rang warning bells in her head and she kicked him in the shin, sure he would release her.

  He just glared at her and kept dragging her along. When she tripped on a rock, he pulled on her arm, raising his above his head so quickly she avoided faceplanting on the ground. A bastard with a grip of iron and the reflexes of a cat.

  She refused to thank him, shot him a scowl when he looked as if he was expecting one, and found her footing again, a strange calmness coming over her as she checked her Nikon to make sure she hadn’t scuffed it on the rocks. As soon as she saw it was fine, that odd sense of calm dissipated, her situation flooding back in to shake her all over again.

  The man grabbed her backpack, slung it over his shoulder and marched her along the shore, ignoring her struggles as she tried to prise his hand off her, working her fingers under his in an attempt to loosen them.

  They didn’t budge.

  Bastard.

  He was big, stood close to a foot taller than her and his shoulders were twice as broad as hers. His dark green fleece hugged his physique to mock her with his apparent strength. It wasn’t going to deter her. Even the biggest men had a weakness, and she would find his.

  Her eyes widened, fighting him forgotten as a clearing came into view, a stretch of grass that spanned at least a hundred metres along the river and ran maybe twice that back towards the mountain. In among the trees, hidden beneath their evergreen canopies, cabins nestled, each of them a different shape and size.

  She hadn’t seen any of them in the aerial shots of the valley, had figured the man for a camper, but it looked as if he lived here.

  In the middle of nowhere.

  “Are you a hunter?” She stared at the back of his head.

  He glared over his wide shoulders at her. “No… and I don’t tolerate hunters here either.”

  “I’m not a hunter.” She huffed when he still looked as if he didn’t believe her. “I’ll show you proof if you let me go!”

  This time, when she twisted free of his grip, he released her, the suddenness of it sending her off balance, so she had to plant her foot out to stop herself from falling over. For a moment, she thought he had released her so she could show him her photographs, but then he stooped, grabbed a silver pail and filled it in the river. He poured it into a white container, and followed it with two more scoops, glared at the container and the small amount of water in it, and then at her, as if it was her fault he was collecting so little.

  She realised it was when he grabbed her arm again, pulling her up the grassy slope.

  “I thought we were done with the caveman act.” She kicked him in the back of the leg and must have caught him in a sweet spot because his left leg buckled, sending him down onto one knee.

  And jerking her with him.

  She squeaked as she hit the grass, twisting just in time to make sure her shoulder took the blow and not her camera.

  He shoved her arm away from him, his expression stormy as
he pushed back onto his feet, and checked his damned water, holding it up and looking a hell of a lot relieved when he saw he hadn’t spilled it. He pulled a cap from the back pocket of his jeans, revealing a heck of a fine backside as he lifted the hem of his green fleece, and screwed it onto the canister.

  This time when he started moving, he didn’t grab her and drag her with him. Score one for her.

  He scored a point of his own when he said without looking back at her, “I’m making coffee, and I’m feeling generous today. If you want some, and a chance to explain what you’re doing on my land, come with me. If you don’t, get the fuck off my property before I drive you off it.”

  Charming.

  But the thought of a hot drink, and the sight of smoke curling lazily from the metal chimney on the roof of the log cabin he was heading towards, had her picking herself up, grabbing her bag and following him.

  And not only because she wanted to warm up.

  She had the feeling that if she could just convince him that she wasn’t here for any nefarious reason, he would let her stay and photograph the bears.

  She looked back at the river, and the mist that still swirled above it, eager to return to it in case any bears came to it while it looked so magical.

  He disappeared into the cabin.

  Ivy forced herself to follow him, nerves rising again as she approached the small building. A voice whispered not to go into it, that he was luring her in there for nefarious reasons of his own and that she should just leave now before it was too late.

  He had been rough with her, forceful.

  She had no reason to trust him, to believe he wouldn’t hurt her or abuse her.

  He appeared in the window to the right of the open door, paused at his work and looked up at her, his grey eyes looking more blue in the light. His dark eyebrows drew down and he moved, disappearing from view for a heartbeat before he appeared in the doorway.

  “Have a seat out here if it will make you feel more at ease.” His bass voice curled around her, a hint of warmth in it now, and in his eyes too as he gazed at her, his irises appearing more gold than grey now.

  A trick of the light?

  She eyed the two wooden chairs on the deck, and then peered into his cabin as he moved back into it, at the log burner against the left wall of it. It was warmer in there, but the thought of going inside had her nerves rising so she settled herself on the chair below the window and put her pack down by her feet.