Page 149 of Mountain Men Heroes
“Angel, you have it all wrong,” he ate up the small distance between them and she pushed at his chest, but he didn’t back down. “There’s nothing to run from here. Nothing to be afraid of. I would rather die than see you hurt.”
She pulled back and slipped from his touch. “Maybe for you, Damon, but for me… it took me years to find myself, and I’m still fighting to find who I truly am. Which ironically is now not even a doctor. Excuse me now. I have a flight to catch.”
“About that.”
She tightened her grip on her overnight bag.
“What did you do?”
“Me? Do I look like a man that would stand between a woman, anyone for that matter, and their happiness?”
“How the hell should I know,” she rasped harshly.
He studied her from beneath hooded eyes, and she returned the stare. “I thought you knew me better than that, by now at least. That I’m not some asshole dickhead.”
“We’ve known each other for two and a half heartbeats and a few orgasms, Damon. What’s to learn?”
“More than you could possibly know.” He took her bags from her and tossed them to the side. “I know you love sweets almost as much as my brother. I know you love the snow from the way your eyes light up every time you see a damn snowflake. As if it’s some magic fairy dust falling from the sky. I love that about you, by the way. The way you find such beauty in things I take for granted each day. I know your sense of humor outwits most of the hardheads around here and you have an ugly sweater to tease your sister with for every day of December.”
He prowled closer, stealing back the small few feet she’d managed to put between them.
“And,” he continued, “I know that beautiful brain of yours likes facts, so let me give you some.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but he silenced her with a single finger in the air. She crossed her arms over her chest and waited. This ought to be good.
“Fact one,” he ticked it off on a finger. “I’ve known you for two days, but your sister talks about you so damn much I feel like I’ve known you a year. Fact number two, I knew you were mine from the first time I touched you. Fact number three, you take other people’s problems as your own and fact number four, and listen to this one very carefully, Ivy Kennedy, because if I have to repeat it I will do so but only as I peel every stitch of clothing from your body and kiss every inch of your skin until you understand me word for fucking word. You. Deserve. To. Be. Loved.” He drove each word home and her mouth grew drier the more fingers he held up.
“Sorry, I gotta go.” She could barely work the words from her dry lips, and the fear that dimmed the glow from his eyes killed her inside but he didn’t understand. If she stayed, how would she ever find herself? Maybe at another time in life she could have what he wanted, but right now she couldn’t be whole for him?
She leaned in, slowly, and pressed an angel soft kiss to his lips. Then she slipped around him and hit the back stairs.
Darkness greeted her in the few seconds before the backlight flashed on to reveal three sets of icy blue pale eyes filled with murderous rage. And pain.
She skidded to a full stop as a man closest to her, blood dripping from long gashes down his sides, roared from what she suspected was fury and surprise.
What the fuck? Bear attack? Instinct brought her hands up. Way up. “Whoa, guys, you remember me, right.”
She cringed slightly but didn’t take her eyes off the bigger man that dominated over the others by at least two shoulders. He took up damn near the entire back alley and was losing a lot of blood.
Fact: cold and blood loss didn’t go well together. He would be dead within minutes if he didn’t find help.
“Reaper,” she asked tentatively. Shivers climbed up the back of her legs and she could no longer tell if it was from the cold or fear. Nothing scary about a pack of mountain men who looked like they could rip off heads. Anger collided with the harsh reality of the blizzard hitting Savage Ridge.
“What happened? Were you attacked?” Everything from the conversation with the Savage twins earlier came to mind.
Pale eyes gazed at her and she knew he was in pain. She moved to help him when he slipped, weakened by blood loss no doubt, when heavy footsteps and a vise-like grip around her midriff brought her to a sudden stop.
Wool slipped over her shoulders and in seconds Damon had her bundled in the heavy coat she’d forgotten in her haste to escape him. “Ivy, angel, get inside. God, woman, you don’t just approach a man when he’s crazed with rage and leaking like a faucet.” Damon snarled over the gusts of wind that tunneled through the back alley. Off in the distance the faint sound of propellers belonging to Drake’s plane faded.
Damn it. Now how did she get out of here?
Out of the corner of her eye, a piece of silvery black flashed in the bright spotlight that hung over the back door as Damon slipped his phone into his pocket.
The tricky bastard. She narrowed her eyes on him as he scooped an arm out and pushed her behind him. He’d called Drake behind her back. She mentally took a note to talk to him about boundaries, but for now it looked like they had a different problem to handle. She didn’t have to be a backwoods mountain woman to know that whatever this was would not be good and wasn’t a common occurrence. Not even in Alaska.
“What the hell happened, Reaper?” Damon demanded.
Ragged slashes tore at the skin of his chest from a wicked blade at first guess.