The sexy Russian remained quiet in the other room that appeared to be the kitchen. I wanted to call out and ask him if he was ever going to come back, but it appeared that sarcasm was lost on him.

On the other hand, I wanted to keep staring at him because I found him incredibly sexy, albeit slightly terrifying. I had a concoction of mixed emotions about him brewing inside of me which was confusing.

I lifted myself up to a seating position and cleared my throat. It was the best way to establish communication with him without having to actually speak to him. My plan must have worked because a few seconds later, he walked out from the kitchen.

His eyes narrowed in on me as he approached me with weary and guarded steps. The only sound in the room was the thump of his hiking boots against the creaky wooden floors.

"Is everything alright?" he crooned in that sexy, adorable voice of his and then thrust a glass of water at me.

Reluctantly, I accepted the glass and then glanced up at him with sad, puppy dog eyes. I needed to get on this guy’s good side, especially if I wanted to ever live to see another day on the outside of this warm, cozy living room.

I set the glass on an end table and tried to rise. “Can you help me up?”

I winced as pain re-entered my left ankle. The stranger acted immediately, helping me to my feet.

“You should be sitting,” he said.

“I’m fine. I’ve had about a dozen sprained ankles in my life. It’s nothing,” I lied. It hurt like hell, but I knew the pain would eventually fade as the swelling decreased. On the other hand, maybe it was best to act like a meek kitten, so he’d take pity on me. I thought that it was best if I let him think that he had the upper hand. That way, he wouldn’t be overly angry and defensive as he tried to prove his dominance.

“Ow.” I reached down and rubbed my ankle. “It’s worse than I thought.”

I was only partially pretending. I was, after all, locked in his cottage with no visible way to escape.

“I don’t even think I know your name yet,” I said, meekly.

He stood above me, towering like a suspicious statue made of flesh, bone, and pure muscle. His features were poker-like and unwavering.

“What do you need my name for?” he replied.

My heart raced. At the time, I had thought of it to be an innocent enough question to pose to him, but then I could have kicked myself for forgetting the one essential element. It was apparent that this guy was skeptical of everything. He thought the world was out to get him and I was the mole in the ground trying to sniff him out.

Obviously, up until a few hours ago, I didn't even know that he existed, but in his mind, I was a threat. I paused for a brief second before answering because I needed to sound as convincing as possible. "I just…don't know what to call you," I said with an air of nonchalance.

He grumbled, but I could tell by his softening features that he might cave on this one. “Erik.”

The word was barely audible, but since it was already so quiet in the room, I could just make it out. “I’m sorry, did you say Erik?”

“Yes. Now that’s enough questions from you. I am the one who does the question asking…got it?” His accent thickened in the heat of his frustration. He was certainly passionate about keeping the power struggle to a minimum.

“Got it,” I whispered and settled down into a big comfortable leather chair and curled my feet up under me. The chair smelled just like him—an attractive masculine scent that hugged me just like the blanket wrapped around me.

He studied me for a few moments, and then his facial features became lighter. “Are you hungry?”

The way he stared at me stirred up a handful of emotions for me. On the one hand, I felt like he was inspecting me. It was slightly invasive and uncomfortable, but on the other hand, there was something erotic in the way his eyes had a lustful glaze about them.

“I could eat something,” I said as my stomach grumbled. I hadn’t even realized I needed food until he mentioned it.

“I have venison and rice.”

It wasn't exactly a cheeseburger and fries, but I knew I had to put on my most charming demeanor if I wanted to get on his good side. If I were nice to him and showered him with compliments, maybe he'd let me go without another prying question. At the same time, I knew I couldn't just collect my clothes and leave. The on-again, off-again rainstorm still hadn't let up yet. And I could have sworn I heard trees thrashing against the cottage as the wind whistled by.

I tucked the blanket under my arms and wrapped myself up. Erik scooped me up like I weighed two pounds and carried me to a table where he sat me in a chair.

His kitchen was cozy and galley-shaped. There was a quaint little window over the sink that had a remarkable view of the woods and mountains right outside in the wilderness surrounding us.

He took the food out of his fridge and began to heat it in a microwave. So, he wasn’t entirely a caveman. He still used electricity and modern appliances. I wanted to know everything about him, including why he was so suspicious of me but I knew that I couldn’t press him for answers. He was already so skittish as it was, and I didn’t want to add more fuel to the fire burning inside of him.

He put the food on a plate for me, separating some for himself as well. He placed the plate in front of me. I looked down at the food apprehensively.

“Eat if you’re hungry,” he commanded in a gruff voice.

He sat down across from me, and I noticed that his eyes never left my body. I knew I looked a hot and wild mess. I still felt grains of sand between my thighs, and there was mud caked between my fingernails where I had clawed at the soggy earth, fighting for my life.

He didn’t seem concerned about the dirt. His gaze skirted across the exposed part of my breasts. I instinctively pushed the blanket up around me a little closer as he chewed his food in silence, staring a hole through me.

“Don’t do that again,” he instructed.

“What?” I stared up at him as I picked at the food.

“You don’t need to hide your body. You’re beautiful.”

I wasn't sure if I should be charmed or appalled. But what was I hiding, really? This man had already seen me naked.

“Thanks,” I whispered.

I hadn't eaten with a guy in a long time, let alone an unbelievably hot mountain man like Erik. The air was thick between us with sexual tension, and the only sound in the room came from our forks and knives scratching against the plate. The venison was surprisingly good, and soon, nothing was left on my plate.

When we were done eating, he picked me up again without a word.

“Where are we going?” I asked with slight trepidation. I feared that he could sense the anxiety in my squeaky voice.

“I didn’t get all the mud off of you earlier. We’re going to clean you up a bit. A hot bath will do the trick.”

When we got to his bathroom, I was surprised at how modernized it was. There were relatively new fixtures, unlike the kitchen that still appeared to be somewhat dated. He drew a bath for me in a clawfoot tub, stood there, and looked at me. I stared at him, hesitant.

“Drop the blanket and get in.” He nodded towards the tub but didn’t leave the room.

“With you in the room?” I asked.

“I’ve seen women before. I know what you’ve got.”

Reluctantly, I let the blanket drop to the floor, and it fell like silk off my body. I swallowed hard and my pulse raced.

He leaned in and unwrapped the cloth bandage from my ankle and then helped me into the bath. I slowly sank inside, trying to allow myself to relax somewhat. The water was nice and warm and felt wonderful to my sore muscles.

“Thank you for helping me…and saving me. I’m not sure how I would’ve survived if you weren’t there,” I told him.

“Sure,” he grumbled and looked away. I was certain I saw his cheeks grow a shade darker.

Realizing that he wasn’t going to leave, I grabbed the sponge, squeezed some soap on it, and began washing my body. He watched me under dark, hooded eyelashes.

When I caught his gaze, he cleared his throat and turned. “I’ll wait outside…by the door.”

"No," I said, meekly. I didn't want him to leave. I wasn't uncomfortable anymore. I was something else altogether.

He turned back around swiftly. He seemed to be surprised by my quiet protest.

“Can you help me with my back?” I handed the sponge to him.

He swallowed hard and knelt down on the floor beside the tub. He started with my back, but he didn’t stop there. He gently washed out the cuts and scrapes on my arms and legs. I wasn’t sure why I was allowing him to touch me, but it gave me a tingling sensation that I craved. The moment between us was intensely erotic. He was like the rugged mountain man who had rescued me from death was now bringing me back to life.

I didn’t want to think about the fact that I was still a captive inside of his home. Maybe he would come around and let me go. I needed to be nurtured and cared for, and he was doing an exceptional job. I didn’t even know he had that tenderness inside of him but here he was, being gentle. His fingers worked magic on my tense muscles.

"Your body is wonderful," he whispered, his eyes filling with desire. "I would love to run my hands up and down your curves every day, all day."

I recoiled slightly, but only because he was verbalizing the fantasies that I was currently having inside of my own head. I didn't want him to know I was turned on by him and the fact that he was bathing me. I slipped down lower in the water to hide my pebble-hard nipples.

Deep down in my gut, I knew he felt the chemistry and connection between us. Suddenly, I wasn’t as scared that he would hurt me anymore, but I wasn’t exactly ready to plunge over the edge and let him take advantage of me either.

“I think I’m ready to get out of the bath now,” I stated in a dodgy voice. I knew he would probably be disappointed, but I needed to take this weird relationship one moment at a time.