I don’t know how long I had been standing in that spot or why I had chosen that particular point to stare off into nothingness but I saw the morning light dissolve into that of the afternoon, the temperature only rising slightly.

It was a relief from the cold of the night but I was chilled to the bone and unable to shake the mounting weakness in my body.

I simply could not go on anymore.

I had lost all sense of direction, the fleeting short sense that I had. I knew my best chance of finding help was on the road but it also increased my chances of being caught by Sir.

What had I done? What would they do to me when they caught me?

I shuddered, falling into the ditch, waiting.

If Sir or one of the others appeared around the corner, I would simply run into the woods, losing them in the thick before I could be found.

I had to take my chances on the road.

At some moment, I had found a fresh mountain stream and thirstily filled up on as much water as my stomach could handle but it made me feel heavy and sluggish. And it made me colder, the water freezing.

Never in my twenty-one years of life had I been closer to death, I was sure but I wasn’t sure if that was the worse fate.

I closed my disconsolate eyes, waiting for any signs of help, wracking my mind for a better plan but I was far too weak.

Hours passed and no one car drove in either direction, neither up nor down the road. I could not manage another step, my exhaustion and drive depleted entirely.

That was when I heard the rumble of an engine heading my way.

I thought I had imagined it at first but as my eyes shot open, I knew it was not a dream.

Someone was coming finally!

My eyelids felt like glue but I managed to open them, forcing myself to step toward the road and make myself visible.

The apprehension was outweighed by my desire to live and I no longer cared if it was Sir turning the corner.

The truck squealed to a stop and as if a second force of energy filled me, I stared at the driver, my mouth parting when our eyes met again.

How could it be him again? Was his the only vehicle whichever navigated these roads?

I was beginning to question my own sanity.

We gaped at one another, my brown eyes widening in shock and I was overwhelmed with consternation.

This man couldn’t help me, could he? He had shot at me last night.

I wanted to ask him for help but I imagine I felt like deer stuck in a fence.

There was nowhere to go. If I ran, I would be in the same place I had been for almost twenty-four hours.

I opened my mouth, exhaling a whoosh of air but when I shifted my eyes, I away from his face, I noticed for the first time that there were guns on a rack on the back of his truck.

Adrenaline and instinct kicked in.

I turn and fled back toward the trees, all reason escaping me.

You’re going to regret running, a small voice squealed at me as I scurried into the thick of trees. You’re going to die out here.

But the guns. He had so many guns. Why?

I continued to run, pausing to glance over my shoulder.

He was running after me!

I gasped, whipping my head around.

I never saw the tree before it hit me square in the face and knocked me unconscious.

* * *

My eyes fluttered but my vision was hazy as he loomed over me.

“Nooo…” I mumbled. “Don’t hurt me…”

His metallic green eyes flashed and he folded his arms over his chest, staring down at me, his jaw locking beneath the mass of facial hair.

“You shouldn’t have run,” he growled, stepping toward me. “Why did you run?”

I struggled to sit up but the motion was too much for me to manage and I watched in terror as he drew toward me.

But intermingled with the terror was something else; excitement.

He dropped to his knees and for the first time, I could study his face uninterrupted. It didn’t seem possible that he was even more attractive than I had originally imagined but as he dropped to his knees, I was stunned to see a classic but rugged handsomeness in his face.

Even though whiskers covered his growling mouth, the fullness of his lips seemed to be calling out to me and I was seized with a desire to touch them with my fingertips.

I waited for shame to consume me for the sin in my thoughts but surprisingly it did not happen and slowly, I raised my bruised, exhausted body toward him, my hand reaching out to touch his mouth.

Suspicion colored his irises but he did not move, allowing me to trace the lines of his mouth through the thick of hair on his face.

Never had I touched a man like this.

An unbidden thought threatened to ruin the moment for me but I shoved it away before it could take away from my tentative thrill.

His mouth was soft beneath my fingertips and suddenly, I was on my knees, my eyes searching his face, our noses inches apart.

What had come over me?

It didn’t matter. I allowed myself to be whisked away in the sensation as my other hand joined his face, my palms openly cupping his dark beard.

I expected him to protest, to pull away but he seemed as captivated by me as I did by him and slowly, our lips met.

I felt as if a bolt of electricity had coursed through me, filling my slim frame from stem to stern, my fingers tightening against his face as I moved him toward me.

When his mouth parted, the tip of his tongue darted out to tease the shape of my lips, prying them apart.

My eyes were still wide, fixated on his and our tongues met to explore.

I gasped at the sensation, my heart racing to match the rasps of his breaths.

Suddenly, his hands embraced my waist and they seemed huge against my tiny hips.

I was brought back against the leaves, his massive frame pinning me to the multi-colored bed, the crunch of the dry beneath me as his body warmed me.

I was melting into him, the lines of his form curving into mine, a tell-tale bulge in his crotch pressing against the surge of warmth in mine.

The experience was so foreign to me but it felt so right.

I needed this man, this stranger I did not know but who was there to save me from myself and I was willing to give him something I had never shared with another.

His lips traveled along the side of my cheek, the bristle tickling me, gooseflesh exploding along my arms and legs as my nipples grew hard.

His hands found the hem of my long skirts, pulling them up to expose my legs.

I spread them wider, pulling him close.

His mouth latched onto my neck, sucking gently and my hands curled into his mane of dark hair, wanting him closer and deeper.

He seemed to sense the urgency in my movements, my back arching upward to meet him as his fingers skillfully stripped away my brown cloak, leaving my shoulders vulnerable to his heated kisses.

My thighs locked around his hips, my hands playing against his back, gripping his solid muscles.

There was no nervousness, no anxiety when his head dropped to my chest, his nose cold against my now hot flesh.

He nuzzled his way against the swell of my breasts, his palms scooping the curve of my rear and we fell into a rocking motion, our most heated parts growing harder and wetter.

Tongue flicking against the taut skin of my nipple, I moaned, my fingers digging into the lines of his huge back.

I needed to feel his skin against mine, for him to possess me fully and deeply.

“You taste like honey,” he murmured in that voice which sent chills through my body, his hands tightening fully against my cotton panties, my cheeks parting.

A gush of hot slipped through me and I bucked upward, his head dropping lower, across the cloth of my dress toward the bare skin of my abdomen.

When he kissed me there, I mewled like a newborn kitten, propping myself up on my elbows to watch him in fascination.

Slowly, he traced my pale flesh with his tongue, his hands slipping the damp underwear away as his face followed the arc of my inner thigh.

My eyes bugged as I realized what he intended to do, my mouth falling open but before I could protest, a long lap touched the throbbing button between my legs and I cried out at the unexpected pleasure the motion brought with it.

A thousand prickles flooded my body and my elbows seemed to give out as I fell to the forest floor, my body putty in his hands.

He was shaping me with licks, each thrust of his tongue reaching me further and deeper while my hands reached to cling onto something for support.

My cries reverberated through the thin mountain air, my head growing heady with each stroke.

Abruptly, my body tensed and I gasped, a build-up of tension causing my toes to curl inside my mutton boots.

“Oh!” I shrieked, both understanding and not at all comprehending what was happening.

Harder he pressed, his face buried inside me, the steam of his breath encouraging me to the mounting release and when I could hold on no more, I erupted in a stream of hot juices against his face, my frame quivering as my knees pressed against his temples.

Slowly, he lifted his head, one last lick before his eyes bored into mine once more.

“Take me,” I begged him softly, my voice a trembling whisper. “Please, I need you.”

He continued to stare at me, those steely eyes seeming to study my soul, his face slick with my nectar as I pleaded with him silently.

I tried to sit up, reaching for his pants but he pushed me down against the leaves, shaking his head.

“No.”

The word was firm and filled with something which sounded like contempt.

Uncertainty filled me as I tried to sit up again but once more, he shoved me down, his eyes flashing.

“Please?” I asked again but suddenly I wasn’t sure what I wanted.

What was I doing? Who was this man?

I slid backward but his face contorted into a sneer and he fell forward, pinning my feet to the ground, his eyes twinkling with malice.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he demanded, licking his lips. “I’m not finished with you.”

I opened my mouth to scream, but nothing came out as he drew closer, his face contorting into a demon-like shape.

I squeezed my eyes closed and waited for him to kill me…

* * *

“Easy! Easy there!”

I thrashed out at him, peeking through slits as I permitted my lids to part.

He peered down at me, his expression confused and concerned. There was no longer any sign of the red-faced devil who was trying to steal my soul and tentatively, I opened my eyes fully.

Heart pounding, I looked around uncomprehendingly.

I wasn’t in the forest any longer.

Gone were the mountain trees and crisp October air.

Instead, I was huddled on a thick, cushioned sofa before a fireplace, wrapped in blankets.

My head was throbbing as I forced myself into a sitting position, my face twisted in panic.

“It’s alright now,” he told me, standing awkwardly at my side as if trying to determine how to act in light of my reaction.

I gaped at him, sluggishly understanding what had occurred.

I had run into a tree and fallen unconscious running away from him and he had picked me up and brought me –

I gasped, thinking about the dogs who had wanted to eat me the previous night.

Through bleary eyes, I looked for them but I did not see any signs of the beasts, even though I was fairly certain I was in the same cabin.

My eyes rested on the gun rack near the front door and I was immediately brought back to the gunshot echoing through the night as the stranger tried to shoot at me.

“Is your name Eloise?” he asked me and alarm flooded me as I tried to curl away from him, recoiling in shock.

How did he know my name? Did he know Sir? Had he been sent to find me?

His eyes. He has the same eyes as Henry and Philip. He must know Sir.

I didn’t answer and he continued to watch me.

My eyes slipped to his mouth and a hot blush stained my cheeks as I remembered my too-vivid dream.

“Can you speak?” he asked, his brow knitting. “Should I get you a pen to write? Can you write?”

I could see he didn’t know whether to be annoyed or concerned.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I shifted my gaze downward and tried to figure out what to do next.

I was warm finally but was I safe? He could not have known my name if Sir had not sent him…could he?

“Can you stand up?” he asked, concern and exasperation coloring his words. “We should get you to the hospital.”

Hospital? No! They might contact mother and Sir and then I will be taken back.

“You hurt your head pretty badly,” he explained, reaching forward to touch the lump on my forehead.

I flinched and withdrew.

A combination of hurt and surprise crossed his face.

“I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me,” he snapped gruffly. “Are you Eloise?”

Again I was consumed with fear.

What if I say nothing at all? I can stay here until I figure out a plan to get away and –

“Fine,” he growled, spinning away from the sofa. “Get up. We’re going to Cedar City.”

“No!” I cried finally and he froze, slowly turning back around.

“You need a doctor,” he said evenly. “You might have a concussion.”

I shook my head vehemently, the action causing shooting pains through my head.

“No,” I said again. “No hospital. I’m not going to town.”

He stared at me and I could see he was trying to think of what to say.

“What am I supposed to do with you? I can’t just let you run around these mountain roads. It’s dangerous.”

I turned my eyes toward him and I wondered if he could read the naked anguish on my face.

I didn’t know if I could trust him but what choice did I have?

“I could stay here,” I whispered, my voice catching in my windpipe.

Myriad emotions swept through his face and our eyes locked again.

Please say yes, I begged him silently. Just let me stay for a short time.

“Are you in danger?” he asked, his voice primal, sending shivers through my body.

I nodded slowly, again averting my eyes. I didn’t want to answer any questions but I knew he had to ask.

To my surprise, he began to nod very slowly as if he didn’t realize he was doing it.

“You can stay,” he told me gruffly. “For a little while.”

My head whipped up and I stared at him gratefully.

“I don’t want any trouble,” he murmured but I could see he had already decided to keep me there.

“I won’t be any trouble,” I promised.

I hoped that would be true.

“You already are,” he retorted, spinning away from me and I felt his displeasure emanating from his huge frame as he stalked toward the kitchen.

As he slipped into the open-concept room, I found myself staring at his incredible physique and my dream washed over me in a humiliating tidal wave.

“People are looking for you, Eloise,” he told me as he busied himself at the fridge and I cringed at the sound of my name.

“I know,” I replied quietly. “Please don’t tell them I’m here.”

His head raised and he stared at me, his piercing eyes studying my face.

My breath caught in my chest as I waited for him to respond.

“I won’t,” he said finally, returning to the task at hand and relief overcame me.

He was my friend.

Or at least the closest thing I had to one.

And I didn’t even know his name.