by Emily Bishop
“I’m coming!”
I’m surprised at how his slow and steady pace has lit my entire body on fire. Without warning, I pulse around him, and he finally increases his pace and fucks me harder. It’s his turn, and he’s going to get what he needs. I cling to him as he finishes with a grunt, and his massive body collapses on mine as we find our breath.
My belly grumbles, completely ruining the romantic mood. My cheeks grow hot with embarrassment, but Lorn simply chuckles.
“What kind of host am I, to let you go hungry? I thought you said something about a nice big breakfast?”
I smile up at him as he rolls off me and lands by my side before he hops off the bed. I sneak a glance at his perfect, muscular frame. His ass is flawlessly sculpted, his back broad at the shoulders before it narrows to his hips.
My mouth goes dry.
He turns and finds me staring at him, and my cheeks blossom with heat all over again. Why am I such an idiot?
“Are you coming, or are you going to ogle me all day? I’m good either way, but I’d rather you be fed. Also, I can make a great ramen breakfast.”
I sit up and lift a critical eyebrow at him. His expression is flat, and I can’t tell if he’s suppressing a laugh. “You’re joking, right? Tell me you’re joking.”
Lorn shrugs. “Only one way to stop me.”
He pulls a shirt and a pair of pants off the floor and dresses as he walks out of the room. If I don’t get up, I’m in serious danger of eating ramen for breakfast.
No way.
I slide out of his bed and open a dresser drawer. I pull out a nice large white T-shirt and slide it over my head as I pad on bare feet out into the living room. Lorn is in the kitchen fiddling with something, and I stomp over. When he looks up and sees me, his eyes widen.
I glance down, then back up at him. “What?”
He swallows, shifts, revealing a French press coffee maker. “Nothing. You look nice in that shirt and nothing else.”
And you look nice in nothing at all.
I move in and open his fridge. I’m delighted to see that sometime in the past day, Lorn got supplies. A carton of eggs, a packet of bacon, and a variety of fresh fruit now wait in his once-barren fridge.
“Now this I can work with.” I pull out the food and dig around for utensils. Within minutes, I’ve got two frying pans heating up as I whisk the eggs in a bowl to scramble them.
“Oh, no, you’re telling me we won’t get any instant noodles this morning? Such a shame.”
I point my whisk at him. “You clearly have a problem. That problem involves not eating food with nutrients. How did you get so big living on ramen noodles?”
Lorn shrugs again as he presses the coffee. A dark brown brew forms, and the scent permeates the room. “I didn’t. I never told you my last name. It’s Hart.”
I blink. Why does that sound familiar? Lorn Hart. Something there rings a bell. “Did we go to the same school or something?”
“I don’t think so. The name’s kind of a household one. Hart Real Estate.”
He casts a wary glance at me, and my eyes widen as I realize who he is. “Holy crap! You’re that Lorn? Like, the heir to one of the biggest fortunes in the world?”
“That’s me.”
His voice is loaded with bitterness, and I empathize with him instantly. When one is well-known, it’s impossible to trust that anyone cares about more than your wealth.
“I never told you my last name either,” I say. His gaze locks onto mine, and I can tell he’s going out on a limb here, trying to trust me. The least I can do is give him the same courtesy.
“I’m Rayne Carr.”
I wait for it to dawn on him. His gaze searches mine as he works to puzzle out my identity. A light goes off, and he looks at me differently.
As they all do.
“Nigel Carr’s daughter? I thought you looked familiar. You’re a socialite!”
“I would argue that you are, too. What is the son of Kyle Hart doing out in the middle of the woods? Shouldn’t you be skiing somewhere a little fancier, like the Swiss Alps?”
At the mention of his father’s name, Lorn’s expression closes, and he turns away.
OK, so maybe the dad connection is a sore spot. Noted. I want to know more, especially now that I know who Lorn is. We’re not so different. I know that now, and that knowledge feels strange. When we first met, I would have never guessed we’d have anything in common.
First impressions, as it turns out, can be terribly wrong. Then again…
Wasn’t Lorn the one who forced his girlfriend to get an abortion or something? Do I remember reading that right?
“Didn’t you have a girlfriend who, um…”
I don’t know how to proceed from here. I want to know, but I don’t want to upset him. When Lorn looks back at me, his eyes are hard even as his mouth twists into a bitter smile. “Who got an abortion because I told her to? Isn’t that what the tabloids said?”
I dump the eggs into a pan and throw on a few pieces of bacon in the other. “Well, what’s the truth, then? As you said, I’m a socialite myself, so I know when not to believe what I read.”
When I glance over at him, there’s a fraction of relief in his expression. He hesitates before he answers. “I’ve always been a bit of a black sheep in my family. I went on a sort of wild streak, and when I did, I got involved with a girl named Natalie. After my father died, I realized that I needed to get my shit together. The entire estate now rests on my shoulders, after all.”
Lorn exhales and pours two cups of coffee before he continues his tale. “So, I cleaned up my act, and Natalie came for the ride. She got pregnant soon after, but something was off. The timing, it turned out. She gave birth to a healthy baby two months early. I insisted she get a paternity test when she gave birth and demanded a fortune from me. She refused. I got one anyway. The baby wasn’t mine. I kicked her out for lying and trying to scam me, so she went to the tabloids and sold a bullshit story about how I tried to make her get an abortion. The kid’s pretty cute. Sold a lot of papers.”
The eggs solidify in the pan, and the delectable scent of hot bacon permeates the air. I turn off the burners and plate the food, then the two of us settle in at a small wooden table.
“After that, I couldn’t stand the world. I couldn’t go anywhere without being attacked by the press. I froze all my assets and bought out this place to be alone. I found a place remote enough that the paparazzi don’t want to bother me anymore, and I’ve grown a nice beard and changed my style, so I can stay un-found. It’s been heaven ever since.”
I take a bite of egg, and my stomach cheers. It’s been an eventful period of time to go without food for so long. I chew and swallow before I answer. “That must have been so tough. I have so many friends who were skewered by the press because they wanted a story. None of it was true.”
“You’re safe from that though, at least partially. Your dad was a human rights hero. I remember reading about the assholes he put in the can. In fact…” He stops and clears his throat. “So, is that why you’re here?”
“I told you why I’m here. To unwind and get away for a little while.”
He lifts an eyebrow at that, and I know he doesn’t fully believe me. Still, there are some things I’m still unwilling to confide. My own paranoid insanity is one of them.
“Well, it’s been nice having you here,” Lorn says, and I grin as I sip my coffee.
At least the man can make that well.
“It’s been nice being here, even if I haven’t seen much of my own cabin.”
His grin is wolfish as he bites into his last piece of bacon. “That’s true. I’m afraid I’m not much for entertainment today, either. I’ve got maintenance to do at the main cabin. You’re welcome to come if you’d like, or if you’d prefer to stay at your own cabin, that works, too. We’re flexible here in Wyoming.”
I consider that invitation. It doesn’t sound like the most exciting thing in the world, but the thought
of my cold lonely cabin is not at all appealing. Besides, I’m finally getting to know Lorn. Maybe we’re both here for a reason. Maybe we can help each other heal. After all, we both have no family, and we’re both hiding away.
“I’m pretty good with a wrench,” I say.
His smile is like the sun. It warms my entire being to the core. “Then let’s get to it.”
Chapter Ten
Lorn
I open my cabin door and hold it for Rayne. “After you,” I say.
Her resulting smile affects me, but I have to admit my intentions aren’t entirely gentlemanly. She saunters past, and I take a nice long look at her round, perfect ass. There’s so much more of her that I want to explore, that I want to know.
That I want to lick.
She turns back and catches me looking. She flashes me a sexy grin and then turns back toward the trail. I can’t help but follow.
Hoo boy, am I in trouble.
It takes three strides for me to catch up to her, and when I do, we walk side by side, our arms brushing every once in a while. I’ve forgotten what this feels like, the blush of first attraction. It’s never a bad start to the day, being buried to the hilt in the body of a beautiful woman. Memories of our night together and this morning after flash through my memory. I cast a glance over in the direction of the hot springs and make a little promise to myself.
I’m going to have her in there, one of these days, before her little month of “being away” is up.
I frown at that thought. She may think she’s fooling me, but I know a lie when I hear one. She’s hiding something. I’m starting to trust her, which is saying something for me after all this time, but I know she gets it. She’s from the same world I’m from. She knows what it’s like to be liked for everything but yourself.
There’s a reason movie stars often only date one another. It’s so hard to find a person who understands, who sees the person underneath, who doesn’t care about or need the money or attention.
It’s the ultimate first-world problem, but that doesn’t change the fact that it’s a desperately lonely way to live.
The snow crunches beneath my boots, hardened from a day without a fresh coat. The sound resonates in the silent woods around us, and I breathe in the scent of snow and pine. I’m so often reminded of why I chose to come here, that this was a good decision.
Now that Rayne has provided some much-needed company, it’s all the better.
I reach down and lace my gloved fingers with hers. Her eyes are bright and watery in the cold, and with the sunlight beaming down upon us, I manage to catch a few flecks of mint green among the moss.
I’ve never seen eyes like those.
The path opens up to the clearing and the hill that leads to the main cabin. I hold fast to Rayne’s hand and take the lead as I turn sideways to carefully descend to the building.
“I’m not going to fall, you know.”
“I don’t know. You’ve already fallen once before.”
“Yes, well, that doesn’t mean I’m going to fall every time. If you didn’t notice from yesterday, I made it down this hill on my own when I ran into you last time. Not a bruise or bump on me from the harrowing experience.”
“Are you seriously arguing your way out of holding my hand? After all we’ve been through?”
My tone makes her laugh, and I’m glad to hear it. I used to be funny once. The life of the party. A flame that burned a little too bright, until I got scorched and had to rise from my own ashes.
And look where that got me.
We reach the bottom of the hill, and I release Rayne’s hand as we approach the cabin’s main door. I step over the four front porch steps with one bound.
“Oh, please,” Rayne says.
I turn and look back at her. “What?”
“Now you’re showing off?”
I shrug. “Can’t help the long legs. They get me from here to there.”
“So do mine.”
“Yes. Just twenty minutes later.”
“What are we fixing today anyway?”
“Follow me, and you’ll find out.”
I like bantering with Rayne. She keeps up with me, which I haven’t come across all that often. The women I’ve met in my life who look like Rayne usually don’t know how to do simple math, much less keep up with a witty conversation. They are arm candy, and, much like candy, they enjoy being silent and sweet.
Not my cup of tea, if I’m honest.
I think about Natalie. Why did I explain myself to Rayne this morning? Natalie destroyed my life, all for a payout. I know Rayne doesn’t need the money—after all, she’s rented out the entire place—but that doesn’t change the fact that she’s hiding something.
Could she be a reporter, sent here to get the scoop on me? Even as the thought arrives, I dismiss it. Now that I know who Rayne is, her story solidifies a little more clearly in my mind. She’s the famous daughter of a former lawyer. Former. The man was killed, I think.
She’s as much an orphan as I am. I don’t think we’ll start any renditions of “Hard Knock Life” yet, though.
“Are you thirsty?” I ask.
She nods. “A little.”
“Come on back here. We’ve got bottled water and such.”
I hand her a bottle of water and take one for myself, then guide us toward the back of the cabin to the generator. Rayne takes a sip then twists the cap back onto her bottle before setting it on the snowy ground.
“So, what’s the trouble with it?” she asks.
“Not much. Just needs a tune-up. We don’t want to be left without a generator up here. Not with the kinds of storms we can get.”
“Got it. You got tools?”
I blink at her. Does she expect to do the tune-up herself or something? “Yes. Back here.”
I step into an old shed and bring out a red metal toolbox. She sifts around inside and plucks out a flashlight and a few other tools before she opens a compartment and gets to work.
“I wasn’t aware they taught the trades at finishing school,” I say with my arms crossed.
She glances back at me and scoffs. “I own a lot of bakeries, remember? I didn’t get successful managing them from a tower. A good boss gets in at the ground level and understands every aspect of how things work. You think I want raw dough if the power goes out in one of my places?”
It’s practical, really, but surprising. I find a new level of respect for this woman as she tweaks a few wires and tries the generator.
When it doesn’t turn on, she glances back at me and asks, “No gas?”
“No. It’s getting cold enough to get it set up. You want to try some?”
“I mean, it’s your fix. Do you want to try some?”
I grin and walk back into the shed. I pull out a sloshing gas can and pour some into the nozzle then step back. Rayne doesn’t miss a beat. She turns on the generator, and it hums to life, like new.
“That was easy,” she says, brushing her hands against her jeans. “Now what are we going to fix?”
I can’t help myself. I simply stand and stare at her while she waits for the next project. I remember seeing a picture of her once in a bright red ball gown. That woman and this one do not reconcile… or maybe they do, and that makes her all the more alluring.
She balls her hands into fists and plants them on her hips. “Oh, come now, Lorn. If you’re going to be stunned by a woman who can work a machine, we’re not going to last long out here.”
“What made you go into the food industry? Why didn’t you want to get into the family business?” I’m curious about her. How much is she willing to share? Clearly her reasons for being here are out, but there’s a whole lot of life that came before this. Just who is the real Rayne Carr?
Her expression darkens, and she looks away as she sets the tools back into the box. “I don’t want to be a lawyer. It’s not my thing. I’ve always been more of a creative person anyway.”
I take the tool box and the gas and place th
em back inside the shed. When I step back out, Rayne’s demeanor has changed.
“I think I’d like to go back to my cabin now, if that’s all right.”
“Of course it’s all right. You paid good money for it.”
That warm glow that enveloped us after sex this morning is dissolving in the cool light of day. I don’t know what I said to turn her off, but she’s not looking at me as we hike back up the hill and trudge down the path to her cottage. When we get there, no smoke pours from the chimney.
I guess that’s what she wants though, isn’t it?
I walk her up to the front porch steps even though I can tell I’ve triggered something unpleasant in her. I glance down and notice a boot print in the snow. It doesn’t match my treads.
“Huh,” I say.
“What?” Her eyes are still anywhere but me.
“Just noticed this footprint. Doesn’t look familiar. Definitely a man’s foot though.”
“What?” Rayne’s voice is panicked as she kneels and stares at the boot print like her life depends on demystifying its origins. “What the hell is this? Why didn’t you tell me about it sooner?” Her tone has risen several octaves, and I step back.
“I’m sure it’s nothing, and I didn’t tell you sooner because I just noticed it. Why are you freaking out?”
“I’m not freaking out! Just leave me alone. I need to figure this out, and I need to lock myself inside, now.”
This is ridiculous. Whatever she’s hiding, it’s not good. What did she bring to this place?
Or whom?
Chapter Eleven
Rayne
I kneel on the frozen ground and evaluate the print. I don’t know what I’m trying to find. My heart is pounding, and the pulse beats through my entire body. A drop of sweat slides down the side of my face.
“Rayne.”
When I glance up, Lorn’s eyes are stormy. Actually, he looks pissed. What does Lorn have to be pissed about? I’m the one who’s in danger here. When he doesn’t say anything else, I stand. Even then, I’m still dwarfed by him. My bravado falls flat.