SEAL by Fate Page 5

  Guilt plagued her. This was all her fault. They were stranded here in a remote cabin because she’d presumed her sports car would pass the icy mountain, and without knowing the road, she’d been unaware of the dog-leg curve. She had lost control and hit the snow bank pretty hard. Her mind had been preoccupied with getting away from the church that she’d failed to think ahead. Her clothes and purse were in the trunk of her car, but that could be another country in distance.

  When he awoke, he would have questions, and rightly so. She had her own. It wasn’t every day a man came upon a woman walking on a snow-covered road wearing a wedding gown. Trying to lie about her situation would be impossible, at least to a certain extent. Stormy would have to decide, at the moment, how much she would divulge to the stranger. Maybe it would depend on how much he really wanted to know. He could be the type that didn’t want details and would be in a hurry to get off the mountain and get away from her. Or he could be concerned.

  His arm had slipped from covering his face and she could see him.

  His jaw was covered with dark stubble and his mouth was set at a grim line. She lowered her attention to his enormous shoulders and she envisioned him holding her, whispering in her ear, and it seemed as clear as if it had actually happened. The image made her weak limbs quiver.

  He moved his hand from his waist and rolled slightly, causing the pillow to shift, and she caught a glimpse of something black hidden underneath. A handle of a gun? What the hell? Her gasp echoed off the walls.

  Who was this man and why did he have a gun?

  Maybe she’d mistakenly put aside her fear of him too quickly…

  Her instincts were immediately on high alert as she looked back at the still sleeping figure. Although the hair on her nape was lifted, she couldn’t help but watch him with a curious gaze again.

  The stranger rolled further to his side, mumbling something under his breath and the only two words she caught were “Phantom” and “catch”. Neither meant anything to her. There was a strength in him that she couldn’t quite describe. He was masculine, sexy, and although she did have some fear remaining, a part of her felt safe. A man like him seemed strong enough to keep her safe.

  He could also overpower her if he wanted to. And with a gun, that would be sending a wolf to kill an ant.

  The front of his underwear had gaped open and she caught a glimpse of his full erection. Her inner thighs quivered and she cursed under her breath. Was she crazy? This was so unlike her.

  Stormy had walked away from her groom minutes before she was to walk down the aisle. Possibly hitting her head so hard it had affected her fight or flight senses, but she didn’t feel the need to run. Or possibly she just didn’t want to run out into the cold wearing some blanket and strappy heels that were uncomfortable on dry land, let alone ice. Even then, where would she go?

  The thought resonated through her head, swarming her brain cells with truth.

  She had nowhere to go. No home. Even her sister wouldn’t take her calls.

  Here was a man with a gun and they were stranded together.

  Dear God, she sure hoped she didn’t run from one monster to find herself in the web of another. Wouldn’t that just be her luck?

  6

  HIS EYES CAME open and before Stormy could take a step back, he had her wrist clutched between his strong fingers. In a flash and with a small scream, she was on her back pressed into the mattress, still warm from his body, with her hands held above her head. His much larger body, the one she’d been shamelessly admiring, covered hers. Her five-foot-four, one-hundred-ten pounds was no match for his strapping, sexy one.

  He stared down at her, blinking as if he was having a hard time coming out of sleep.

  “What the hell are you doing?” she whimpered, feeling her stomach roll and her knees quiver, but she wasn’t sure if she was responding to his sudden attack or that his erection poked her inner thighs.

  “What the hell are you doing?” His husky voice tickled her senses.

  Now she’d gone and done it. She’d crossed a line and there was no going back. His voice was as nice and deep as she’d remembered, and the husky tone vibrated her nipples. Although she should be concentrating on getting away from him, she was more interested in figuring how he could look this good first thing in the morning. His dark hair was trimmed short, but she could see some grey at his temples so he wasn’t as young as she first thought.

  Putting on a brave face, she jutted her chin and held his sleepy blue gaze. “I-I was checking to see if you were sleeping. Why do you have a gun?”

  “To use if needed. You shouldn’t be sneaking around.”

  “I wasn’t sneaking.”

  “It sure seemed that way.” He loosened his grip on her hands some. “Are you okay?” His voice softened.

  “I could throw up.” There was no reason to lie.

  He let go of her wrists, slid off her and stood, grabbing the gun from under the pillow and placing it on the dresser. “That’s because you have a concussion.” He rubbed his forehead, then turned, walking across the space of the bedroom. His obvious limp only added to his toughness. He was a tall man, at least six three and weighed in at two hundred without an ounce of fat. He was nothing but hard muscles and sinewy skin, and he didn’t seem to care one bit that he was wearing only boxers and an erection.

  Stormy watched him reach for the jeans slung over the back of the chair and drag them on. When he was buttoned and zipped, he turned and asked her, “Headache?”

  “Yes.”

  “Body aches?”

  “Like I’ve been run over.”

  “Thankfully that didn’t happen,” he grumbled.

  She sat up and swallowed against the cotton-ball sensation in her throat. “You didn’t answer my question about the gun.” She glanced at the handgun sitting on the dresser that drew her attention.

  “If you’re wondering if I’m a creep who brought you here to do unthinkable things, you can rest your pretty head. The gun is for safety.”

  “What happened exactly?” She could put the pieces together enough to realize they didn’t get here by vehicle, but then how?

  “You don’t remember?”

  “I remember the car lights coming at me and I jumped, and then much later, while I was asleep on the couch, but anything right after the accident is fuzzy.” She touched her head. “You did put the bandage on, right?”

  He nodded. “I carried you here. You were out and cold.”

  “You carried me here?” Could she believe him? In her calculations, the distance from the wreck and the cabin was at least a half mile, which probably wouldn’t be anything in nice weather, but in a blizzard, it was tremendous. “How is that possible?”

  “I’m used to carrying much heavier things.” His gaze swept down her, making her toes curl. He stepped toward her and she slid back onto the bed until her back pressed the headboard.

  “Don’t be afraid. I won’t hurt you. I want to examine the cut on your head.”

  With only a second of hesitation, she took the bandage off and spotted the dried blood. “How much did I bleed?”

  “Enough to soak three bandages, but not enough that it required stitches. Good thing because I’m a little rusty at stitching.”

  At first thinking she thought he was joking and she smiled, but at his serious expression she realized he was being point blank honest. “You would have stitched me if needed?”

  “To save your life, hell yeah.” He took another step, leaning in to look at the cut closer while she busily stared at his broad, smooth chest and toned abs. She’d never seen a nicer stomach. “Thankfully, I was able to swerve and miss you. Not so thankful for the damage to my Jeep.”

  Reaching up to touch the cut, she could feel the beginning of a scab. “How can I ever say thank you for taking care of me? You could have easily left me out there in the cold.”

  He blinked and took a step back, then strolled to the dresser to lean against the edge. “I think a simple ‘t
hank you’ will suffice, and then you should tell me what’s going on.”

  “I was stranded in the snow.”

  “Look, I think it’s obvious you ran out of your own wedding, and to be perfectly frank, I really don’t care why. What I do care about is whether I need to be on the lookout for a pissed off groom looking for his missing bride. I don’t need, or want, trouble.”

  Something told her he wasn’t too worried. “Didn’t you already ask me this?”

  “Yeah, when you were still woozy and half asleep. I thought I better ask when you’re wide awake and coherent.”

  How could she answer without divulging too much, too soon? “Even if he wanted to come looking for me, I don’t think he could get up the mountain.”

  “So that means he will be looking for you?”

  She nodded. “Probably.” She met Gray’s gaze head on and moistened her lips. “You’re right, I ran from the church. I also wanted to get away so fast that I didn’t plan for bad roads. The snow—I’ve never seen it fall so fast. I guess I screwed up and should have stayed in town. I don’t want to see my fiancé…I mean, ex-fiancé.”

  “The ring might bely that statement a bit.”

  She looked down at the diamond and sighed. He was right. “It’s safe to say when I left him at the altar, we split up.”

  There was a long hesitation, then he dropped his gaze to her wrists and back to her face. “Are you afraid of him?”

  “No,” the word shot out of her mouth. “He wouldn’t hurt me.”

  “Yeah? Well, those bruises on your wrist aren’t from the accident.”

  She didn’t like the way this man’s gaze seemed to penetrate every layer of her defenses. Stormy would need to be careful because he was a human lie detector. She didn’t want to lie to him but telling him everything would make her vulnerable. Climbing from the bed, she tightened the blanket around her shoulders and tilted her chin stubbornly. “I have soup on the stove, enough for both of us. I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry and I think eating will help me feel better.”

  “You’re hungry. That’s a good sign.” He pushed away from the dresser and she watched him stroll out of the room—all six foot something of manliness. She followed him while keeping her attention on how nicely his jeans cupped his bottom, how broad his back was, and the large eagle tattoo with a wing span that spread from shoulder to shoulder. The word SEAL was written underneath in bold faced text.

  “So, you’re a SEAL?” That explained a lot for her.

  “Was. Still am. Always will be.” He stopped in the kitchen, grabbed two bowls from the cabinet and poured steaming soup into each. “Have a seat. You need your rest.”

  He brought her a bowl and she accepted it, but didn’t dig in. “Are you hurt from the accident?” she asked. Trying her hardest to keep from admiring his shirtless torso. “You’re limping.”

  He gave a small shrug. “An old injury that didn’t enjoy being smacked up against the dashboard. I’ll survive though. Just wish we had pain killers, or whiskey. Either one would work.”

  She took a sip of her soup which didn’t settle well on her stomach. “You walked almost a mile carrying me on a bum knee? That’s, well…something.”

  “I didn’t say anything about a bum knee.” He smiled. “An old injury.” He didn’t bother with a spoon but brought the bowl to his lips and slurped. Some would call that bad manners, and then there were others who would call him sexy even when he ate. She belonged in the later category, although she needed to keep things into perspective. She’d just left a man at the altar. Her mind wasn’t prepared to want or desire another man so soon. It was only her raw emotions talking and not logic. She was flattered that he had saved her by carrying her to the cabin. What woman wouldn’t be?

  Sure. She’d keep telling herself that her attraction was simple flattery.

  Yet, her body was blocking the message, because even now, as she watched his muscles tighten and bulge she wanted to touch him. Explore him. Get to know him better. Ask where each scar came from.

  “So, since you know why I was on this mountain in the middle of the night during a snowstorm, then why were you?” She swirled her spoon through the soup and played with the noodles like a child would.

  He swiped the back of his hand across his mouth. “Acting impulsively.”

  “Do you always do that?”

  “Act impulsively? Yes.”

  “No, I meant answering questions mysteriously?”

  “I’ve been accused of doing so a time or two.”

  Because she guessed she’d receive another vague answer if she continued this line of questioning, she looked toward the window. “My cell phone is still in my car. Do you have one?” She brought her gaze back on him, watching as he rinsed out his bowl under running water. The muscles in his back tightened with each move he made.

  “I do but there’s no service here on the mountain.” He dried the bowl and placed it back in the cabinet. When he turned he leaned against the edge of the counter and crossed his ankles. “I think people come here to get away from the real world. If you and your ex had gone through with the wedding, you wouldn’t have any use for cell service.”

  “We wouldn’t have been here.”

  “Then whose cabin is this?” He shot up a thick brow.

  She shrugged. “I know this will sound strange, but I have no clue. My wedding planner handed over the key and told me I’d be safe here. Luckily, the location showed up on my GPS otherwise I would have never found my way. I’m going to assume that we won’t see any passing vehicles.” She thrummed her fingers on the counter in restless energy. Although this could be a life saver in disguise, the reality of spending more time in a secluded cabin with a stranger who looked like Gray was quite a bit to process.

  “I heard on the radio the roads are closed all around this area. We’re in the middle of a blizzard and the only people coming and going are those with a snowmobile.”

  “Blizzard?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Ten inches have fallen already. Looks like it has let up some, but it’ll take some time for the roads to be passable.” He shifted, resituating his legs and swiping a hand down his jaw. “Are you in a hurry to get somewhere?”

  “No, well, yes…I need to reach my sister. We had a bit of a falling out and I haven’t spoken with her since.” She tucked a tendril of hair behind her ear.

  “Let me guess. Over you getting married?”

  Swallowing, she rolled her finger around the rim of the bowl. Just as she suspected, he was very observant. She met his curious gaze. “She doesn’t like Duncan. Or rather, she despises him. When she didn’t show up at the wedding—” Stormy stopped right there. If she went into detail about what they argued about and why Colette didn’t show up, that would lead to the entire back story and Stormy didn’t want to go there, not with a complete stranger. However, this stranger had saved her life and carried her all the way to the cabin. She didn’t know any friends who would have gone to that degree for her. Maybe it was time she chose new friends.

  “I’m sure you don’t want to talk about it, but I’m a good listener.”

  Something in her melted just a tad. “You asked if I’m afraid of Duncan. In all honesty, I’m not sure. Something happened…”

  Gray leaned over the bar as if he offered his ear. “What happened? That?” He tapped her bruised wrist.

  “That and…well, letters. I received three letters over the span of a few months.”

  “From his mistress?”

  She gave her head a shake. “No. Maybe. I don’t know. They were simple worded notes mailed to me telling me that he was a monster and that I would regret marrying him.” It was a relief to finally tell someone.

  “Doesn’t sound like a mistress. Maybe your sister was sending them.”

  “Possibly, but she’s never had any trouble telling me before what she thought of him.” She sighed. “I’m not sure it even matters any more. The engagement is off. As horrible as it sounds I don�
�t think I ever loved him and I truly believe he never loved me.”

  “That’s a lot to take in. Might not be any of my business, but why did you wait until the wedding day to take action?”

  “I knew. I did, but I held out hope.”

  “There’s no holding out hope when it comes to matters of the heart. Love is either there or it isn’t. I think the emotion hits you so hard that you’re lost, and yet home at the same time.”

  “That’s rather romantic.” So, not only was he irresistibly handsome, tough and powerful, but he was also idealistic. Lord help her, she was in big trouble.

  “Well, at least you didn’t say I was mushy. I have a reputation to uphold.” He winked.

  Change the subject before you go in for a kiss. “Did you say there’s a radio?”

  “Let me go grab it and see if there are any updates on the weather.” He strolled down the hallway and she watched how the wings of the eagle seemed to shift with each movement. It probably had special meaning.

  Her own butterfly tattoo had meaning. When she and her sister were kids their mother had a butterfly garden and they would sit for hours watching. Stormy and Colette got the same butterfly to signify family.

  Looking down into her bowl of soup, Stormy missed Colette. They’d never gone more than twenty-fours without speaking to each other. Hopefully she was out of the storm’s path and safe.

  When he came back with the antique-looking radio in his hands, he stopped in his tracks. “You okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  She opened her mouth, wanting to tell him that she felt a lot of weight on her shoulders, but how could she vent everything to him?

  The muscles in his arms flexed and the area between his brows scrunched.

  What did she have to lose by talking?

  “My life is in an upheaval.” Her voice sounded foreign to her ears. When his gaze met hers and she saw a sliver of sympathy in the blue depths, she felt her shoulders drop some. “I actually ran away from the church in my gown and heels. You must have thought I was a lunatic.”