Protecting Rayne

  Table of Contents

  Protecting Rayne

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Description

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Want more?

  Famous

  Mr. Everything

  More by Emily Bishop

  About the Author

  Emily Bishop

  Copyright © 2018 by AG Media, LLC, a representative of Emily Bishop.

  All rights reserved.

  AG Media, LLC owns exclusive rights to all content herein. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from AG Media, LLC, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Thanks to all the authors writing about sexy mountain men and inspiring me to do the same. I love this trope! Really poured my heart into it. Also, thank you to my fans for the kind emails and words of encouragement. Feel free to write me anytime. I love it!

  This is my land. My girl. I protect what’s mine.

  This mountain is my refuge.

  And Rayne is my release.

  I ran to these mountains to escape people like her.

  This beautiful socialite reminds me of my greatest mistake.

  One that nearly cost me billions.

  My need for her is predatorial.

  Her want for me is ravenous.

  We’re alone on this snow-covered mountain.

  Both battling our pasts.

  Warming each other with our future.

  She was followed out here. Her worst fears come true.

  I’ll protect her from him.

  Who will protect her from me?

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  Chapter One

  Rayne

  I might have made a huge mistake.

  I glance around me and see nothing but trees. The path beneath my feet isn’t exactly well-marked. A smattering of gray rocks denotes the narrow dirt path, but they look exactly like the smattering of gray rocks I saw on the path like twenty minutes ago.

  Am I walking in circles?

  The sky above me darkens from a pale gray to a light charcoal shade, indicating that the sun is setting somewhere. I can’t see it because I’m dwarfed by a bunch of stupid trees.

  Dumb trees. Dumb me. I shouldn’t have had my chauffer drop me off so far from the resort in Wyoming, but I don’t want to be followed, and my assistant, Helen, assured me that this was the perfect place. That I’d be safe.

  Fear washes over me. I’m alone in the woods. It’s getting dark. What if I was followed?

  I exhale, and a puff of smoke releases into the air. I force myself to calm down as I pull out my phone and open a Google map of the area I saved before coming up. I zoom in and evaluate the trails. Judging from my drop-off point, I should continue straight from here and then swing a left to get there.

  Easy. Everything’s going to be fine.

  Boy, do I wish this cell phone had signal. Or battery. My screen goes black, and I groan. “Shit.” I’m out here in the woods, lost.

  Alone.

  Hopefully.

  The crunch of leaves beneath my boots echoes through the woods as I trudge onward. With another step, there’s a loud crack, but it didn’t come from beneath my shoe.

  My heart pounds against my sternum, and a bead of sweat traces a cold path down my face. I don’t want to look. What if my worst fears are realized? I’m a petite woman. There’s not much I can do to protect myself out here.

  I should have brought pepper spray or bear spray or some kind of protective something or other. Why did I never take a class on self-protection? It never even occurred to me that whatever is out there could be a bear. Am I supposed to get big and loud, or run away and hope for the best?

  I can’t remember. I should have watched more survival shows. There’s another crack a little bit closer to me, and I swirl around in a circle, searching. I don’t know if it’s a good idea to call out, to ask who it is. Is that more dangerous than staying silent?

  A massive beast crashes through the trees to my right, and I release a piercing scream that reverberates down the mountain and across the lake. I cover my head and sink to the ground and wait to be mauled to death.

  After several beats, nothing happens. I find the courage to pry open my eyelids and look up. My whole body is tense with fear.

  My gaze lands on a pair of sturdy boots. Somewhere in my fear-rattled mind, it registers that bears don’t wear boots.

  Bears don’t wear jeans, either.

  My gaze combs up until it rakes over a burly, barrel chest covered in a thick green flannel jacket. Finally, I look past a pair of insanely broad, muscular shoulders until I can finally catch a glimpse of my would-be attacker.

  It’s a man with a thick brown beard and stunning hazel eyes. I can’t tell if they are more brown or green in the fading light of day. His hair is thick but close cut, and it matches his beard. He is a beast of a man, but I’ve never seen a more attractive beast in my life, and that’s saying something. I mingle with celebrities on a daily basis.

  There’s something raw about this man, animalistic, even. He stares down at me with those piercing eyes, and it occurs to me that I might be in more danger than I would be from an animal. There is no animal more dangerous than man, after all.

  “Did I scare you?”

  His voice is a deep baritone, but it scratches like it hasn’t been used in a long time. I glance down at myself, huddled in a ball on the ground, then look back up at him. “What gave it away?”

  The corner of his lip twitches beneath his beard. Have I amused this mammoth of a man? Why does my heart cheer about that? This man is a stranger, possibly dangerous, but my fear has melted. He reaches a hand down to help me up, and I stare at it.

  “I apologize. I’m not used to running into stranded women out here.”

  “I’m not used to running into hermits, either, so I suppose we’re even there.”

  “What are you doing here? I’ve never seen you before.”

  His voice is gruff, and his eyes narrow as he works to puzzle me out. I look at his hand, ignore it, and press my palms into the cold earth as I lift myself to a standing position. Even then, I am dwarfed by this massive person. I wipe my hands together to shake the dirt off.

  “What are you doing here? I’ve never seen you here before either.”

  “Don’t play games with me. I live here, and you clearly don’t. Now tell me what you’re doing here, and I’ll help you be on your way.”

  I cross my arms and stare up at him. I feel foolish. The man is clearly comfortable in the woods, a
nd he’s ten times my size, but I’ll stand up to him anyway. I am Rayne Carr, after all. I’m not just anyone.

  “How do you know I don’t live here? These woods are vast. For all you know, I’ve lived here my whole life and we’ve simply never crossed paths.”

  He laughs then. His voice is deep and hearty, but his laugh lacks any real humor, and I sense a trace of sadness behind it, or maybe it’s bitterness. Either way, it’s not entirely genuine.

  “You’ve lived out here your whole life? Tell me then, what does the moss on that tree signify? If you’ve been in the woods for long enough, surely you’ll know.”

  I glance in the direction he’s pointed. A thick coating of moss shelters the side of a tree, but hell if I know what that’s supposed to mean. I brush a strand of blond hair behind my ear to buy time, then narrow my eyes at him in a badass glare.

  Yeah. Totally badass.

  “Wouldn’t you like to know? I don’t need to prove myself to you. I need to get to where I’m going.”

  “Which is?”

  We’re back to square one here. He wants to get information from me without providing any himself. My trust reserves are pretty low. I can’t trust this man any more than any other stranger who might cross my path.

  They could be connected somehow.

  Still, I need to get to that cabin. The sky is getting darker with each minute we waste. Maybe this man can help, if I let him. Do I have a choice?

  Nope.

  “The main cabin,” I say. “If you’ve lived here, you’ll know what I’m talking about.”

  “Of course I do. I can bring you to the main hall at the resort and leave you there. That’s where you’re going, right? It’s the only main cabin I’ve heard about.”

  “Or, you can point me in the right direction, and I’ll find it myself. I am not incapable, much as that may appear to be the case.”

  “It certainly does appear to be the case. You’re lost in the woods, and you’re too stubborn to admit it,” he grunts.

  “And yet here you are, ready and able to guide me in the right direction. Lucky me.”

  “Lucky for you I found you at all, or you’d be shivering in the cold all night without any survival skills.”

  “Don’t act like you know me.”

  “Oh, but I do know you. I know your type. Look at you.”

  I glance down at my designer winter jacket, trendy jeans, and upscale hiking boots. Granted, I look like a woman ready to go on an excellent glamping trip, but it irks me that this guy thinks he has me so easily pegged. He doesn’t.

  He knows nothing.

  “Do you always judge a book by its cover?”

  “When the book is a woman, I know what’s beneath the pages.”

  “That’s the most sexist thing I’ve ever heard.”

  “Are you going to let me help you or not?” He stands ready, as if he’ll spring into action at a moment’s notice.

  My neck hurts from craning it up to look at his chiseled face. Even beneath the beard, this guy is a knockout. I want to shove him away and stomp off. I also want to step a little closer and see if he smells like the forest. He seems like he would naturally carry its scent.

  Now who’s judging a book by its cover?

  I release a breath, and a shiver runs down my spine. I can hold onto my pride, or I can be warm. I decide to find the middle ground.

  “Point me in the right direction, please, and I will be happy to make my way there alone. I don’t need any more assistance than that. Thank you.”

  His shoulders are tense. He’s been oddly menacing and protective at the same time, which is a weird combination. Probably a red flag. I don’t need to spend any more time in the presence of this backwoodsman. I imagine a hot bath and a warm cabin, and my motivation to leave increases.

  Finally, a hundred years later, he points up the path I was about to take.

  “Up that way, take a right. The main check-in is a thirty-minute walk that way.”

  I nod up at him and walk past, not bothering to cast another glance his way. If I do, I might start having some pretty intense mountain-man fantasies, which is weird. That’s never been my type.

  His footsteps crunch behind me, and I glare at the path ahead. I grip my small suitcase in a gloved hand and drag it behind me. “You don’t need to follow me. I’ll find the way, now. Thanks for your help. Bye.”

  He ignores my dismissal completely. His heavy footsteps kritz against the dead leaves of early winter. My toes ache from the cold, which seeps into my boots in spite of their expensive covering.

  I should have done more research about this damn trip. I reach the fork in the path and realize that I would have been majorly lost if it wasn’t for the man behind me. I would have turned left and ended up who knows where? A twinge of guilt blossoms in my chest, and I squash it.

  I didn’t ask to be terrified by this behemoth. I want to get where I need to go in peace.

  He’s still following me. “Don’t you want to go back to your hovel or whatever? I’m sure there’s a deer that needs to be skinned for your next pelt,” I shoot back at him.

  “Nope.”

  He continues his pace behind me. I’m both relieved and annoyed for his presence. At least with him here, I’m more likely to get where I need to be. But with him here, I can only question his motives. Still, if this guy is a regular, there’s a chance that he might be a good person to get to know, on some distant level. Maybe he’s a caretaker or something. He can’t be a renter.

  After all, I’ve rented out every cabin here for the next month.

  I keep my eyes peeled for any sign of human life. I have no concept of time without my phone, but the darkness creeps beneath my fancy jacket now.

  If I don’t find shelter soon, I’m going to turn into a nicely dressed popsicle.

  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 h
er 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?