Chapter 7

From the appalled look on Trish's face when she saw the fishing shack, Holdar suspected she was reconsidering her enthusiasm for their adventure. The shack was just that - a shack, shabby and worn rather than rustic and charming, perched next to one of the fast-moving mountain streams. The roof was covered with rusting tin panels and a store sign had been cut in two to form the shutters over the front windows. Crooked wooden steps led up to an equally crooked front porch.

"It's very… quaint," she said finally.

"I suppose that's one way of putting it. Wait until you see inside."

She followed him up the steps, waiting silently as he wrestled open the shutters then opened the door. A lumpy couch rested against one wall, beneath a row of shuttered windows. The wood stove was on the other wall, as well as a sink with a hand pump and a small table.

Some old wooden apple crates had been nailed to the wall over the sink to hold a few mismatched plates and glasses, along with some ancient provisions stored in glass jars. At the back of the room a curtain across one corner hid the small bathroom area and the final corner contained the bed, draped in dusty mosquito netting. The door between them led out onto another porch, this one overlooking the stream.

"It's… it's…"

"Small?"

"Maybe a bit. I think my closet is bigger than this."

"It is."

The stunned look finally disappeared and she started to laugh.

"Well, I suppose it's an adventure, isn't it? How big is the bed?"

"Big enough," he growled, trying not to think about her sleeping in it.

"So it's big enough for both of us?"

He gave her a sharp look, but she just smiled innocently at him.

"Don't worry, I won't bite."

That wasn't exactly what he was worried about.

"You can sleep in the bed. I'll sleep on the couch."

"If that's what you want," she said enigmatically.

It wasn't what he wanted, but there was no way in hell he was going to share a bed with her. If he did, he'd never be able to keep his hands off her. Or his mouth. Or… Pushing aside the dangerous train of thought, he took another look at the cabin.

"I guess it's just as well Trogar gave me a bucket of cleaning supplies. Color-coded," he added, shaking his head.

"Has he always been so neat?"

A wave of guilt threatened to swamp him.

"No. We lived in some pretty bad places for a while. I think it started out as the only way he had to control his environment."

She gave him a thoughtful look but didn't comment. Instead she ran her finger through the thick layer of dust on the battered tin cooler that served as a coffee table and smiled at him.

"Since he's not here to help, I guess we'd better get started. Let me get the clothes Pippa sent so I can change."

"I'll get it. Then you can change while I get the water running. It's shut off over the winter so the pipes don't freeze."

He brought her the tote, then hurried away trying - unsuccessfully - not to imagine her stripping off her clothes. The brief tantalizing glimpses he'd had earlier replayed over and over in his mind as he wrestled with the pump. He'd barely managed to wrestle his cock under control when he returned to the cabin and found her in cutoff shorts and a cropped tee, both a little too small and clinging deliciously to her curves. His erection immediately sprang back to full, aching life.

"I told Pippa her clothes would be too small," she sighed. "But I guess beggars can't be choosers."

"It's not… unattractive."

His voice came out hoarse and strained but she didn't seem to notice, putting her hands on her hips and glaring at him. The pose only drew his attention to the lush curve of her hips.

"Gee thanks. I'm sorry if you're disappointed."

"Not disappointed."

She finally seemed to realize the effect she was having on him and a slow smile curved her lips as she came towards him.

"Are you sure? Maybe you'd better take a closer look."

She'd brushed her hair and put it up in a high ponytail that swung provocatively as she turned in front of him. He clenched his fists when he saw the way the worn hem of the shorts skimmed the lower curve of her delectable ass.

"Well?" she said expectantly when she was facing him once more.

Despite the teasing note, the pulse at the base of her throat was fluttering rapidly and her nipples were clearly visible beneath the thin top. A male could only take so much. He growled, then snatched her into his arms and kissed her.

He knew his kiss was too hard, too demanding, although he retained enough control to make sure his tusks didn't harm her. Instead of shying away from him, she responded eagerly, her body melting against his and her sweet mouth yielding deliciously to his possession. He growled again and pulled her even closer, one hand grasping that luscious ass. He was seconds away from ripping off her shorts when he came to his senses, stepping back so quickly that she swayed.

"I'm sorry," he said gruffly, not entirely sure if he was apologizing for kissing her or for stopping.

She looked dazed, but she managed to compose herself enough to give him a slightly shaky smile.

"I'm not. But I guess we should get to work."

"Yes. Right."

"Unless you have a better idea," she murmured, running a teasing hand down his chest.

He groaned, then gently pushed her away.

"Cleaning."

"Oh, all right." She gave him a mock pout as he stepped further away from her. "Where do we start?"

"Why don't you start wiping things down while I strip the bed? I have clean sheets and towels in the truck. Then we can sweep and mop. We can wash the windows later."

She nodded and they set to work. For someone who'd probably never even picked up a broom before, she proved to be a surprisingly hard worker. By the time they stopped to take a break, the shack was in much better shape - although it looked as if she'd picked up most of the dirt in the process. He shook his head as he flicked a finger across one of the smudges on her cheek.

"I can see the next job will be heating water for a bath."

"Heating water?" She couldn't quite conceal her horrified look. "You mean there isn't a shower?"

"Did you see one?"

"Well, no, but I guess I hoped it was concealed somewhere."

"Afraid not, princess. There's the stream of course, but it's going to be very cold."

She shuddered.

"No thank you. But I didn't see a bathtub either."

"Yes you did - outside the back door."

Another horrified look.

"The horse trough? Really?"

"What did you think people used before there was indoor plumbing?"

"I'm not sure. But I definitely didn't think about a trough."

"I promise it will work just fine."

"All right." She recovered enough to give him a teasing look. "I'll try anything once."

He did his best to hide his reaction as he pulled out the sandwiches that Trogar had sent, neatly wrapped in squares of parchment paper.

"I think that was the best sandwich I've ever eaten," she said happily after she demolished hers.

"I doubt you've ever worked so hard before eating one before."

Her smile immediately faded and he could have kicked himself.

"Do you think I'm that useless?"

"Of course not. I just don't think you've had much experience with physical labor."

"Or any other really. I'm twenty-two years old and I've never had a real job in my life."

She was playing with the paper the sandwich had been wrapped in and avoiding his gaze so he reached out and covered her hand with his own.

"Your father said you graduated last year. What was your degree?"

"Marketing. I intended to go to work for one of Daddy's companies. He said it was a great idea, but he kept putting it off. I finally realized he'd rather have me at home, and I guess it was easier just to go along with it. That sounds pathetic, doesn't it?"

"No. It sounds like a daughter who loves her father."

"I do, very much. Are you sure he's all right?"

"Yes, I spoke briefly to Banner while you were upstairs."

"You did what?" She sat up and glared at him. "You said we couldn't call anyone. You knew I wanted to talk to Daddy."

"I didn't talk to your father. I had a very brief conversation with Banner - just to check on your father and also to let him know that you were safe."

He didn't tell her that Banner had sounded both distracted and worried. He also decided not to tell her that he'd also disabled his phone so it couldn't be tracked. She huffed and folded her arms over her chests, throwing her cleavage into even greater prominence before he hastily looked away.

"We should get back to work so you can take that bath while it's still daylight."

"No electricity either?" she sighed.

"No, but we have plenty of oil lamps."

She shook her head but pushed back from the table.

"Then let's get back to work."

By the time late afternoon arrived, the shack was in as good a shape as they could make it. Everything had been dusted and washed, the bed had been remade with clean sheets and the dust had been shaken out of the curtains and the mosquito net. He filled the tub half full of water from the stream, then heated more buckets of water on the stove, adding them until the water steamed gently. On a whim, he threw in a few petals from an early blooming wild rose, then returned to let her know her bath was ready.

She was slumped over on the table and only moaned.

"I think I'm too tired to move."

"Do you want me to carry you out there and dump you in?"

"Yes." She laughed at the surprised look on his face and stood gingerly. "I guess I'm ready."

He handed her towels, soap, and shampoo, then retreated into the cabin, trying desperately not to imagine her lovely body flushed and glowing from the heat of her bath. His efforts were not successful and he was pacing restlessly when she screamed.