“What happened to my life?” I whispered into the ether. My shoulder throbbed, my nose dripped, and my head felt like it was going to explode.

Liam stopped the old car in front of a beautiful log cabin. It was a sight I had not expected to see in the middle of nowhere. Even as mountains go, it was remote. Based on the piece of crap vehicle we were in, I had pictured something ramshackle and filthy, but this was a well-crafted, high-end structure.

He had surprised me. I really didn’t know what to think. Who is Liam? What do I really know about him?

He put the car in park, stretched his arm along the back of the bench seat, and turned to look at me. “We’re here.”

Sniff. I looked at the dark house and wiped my nose. “Are you going to kill me?”

His eyes flew wide, and he sputtered. The big, strong special ops guy was speechless as he faced me. “Kill you? Why would I kill you?” he asked, incredulous.

“Well, you brought me to the back end of nowhere in the middle of the night.” My shoulder throbbed and my mouth was dry. I looked down at my lap before continuing in a small voice. “You could bury my body in the woods, and no one would ever find me.”

It took him a minute to get over his shock, and then he started to laugh. Giant, belly-shaking guffaws bubbled up from somewhere deep inside. When he finally stopped and caught his breath, he blinked the tears from his eyes, and said, “No, Maggie. I’m not going to kill you. I’ve spent too much time already trying to keep you alive. We are going to stay in this cabin as long as it takes for my team to track down whoever is trying to kill you.”

I shifted my gaze from Liam to the house and back. “Is there hot water?”

He laughed again. “Yes, there is hot water.”

“Thank god.” I pulled at the front of my shirt and little bits of dried blood flaked off. “I really need a hot shower and clean clothes.

“Come on.” He opened the driver’s door, unfolded his long legs, and straightened himself to stand at his full six-foot-five height. Pulling the rear door open, he extended a hand to me. “Let’s get you inside and cleaned up.”

I held tight to him as we walked up the creekstone path to the rear of the house. Two-story glass windows graced the front of the house, which sat perched on the edge of a smoke-covered lake. Liam pulled out a key and unlocked the door.

“What a pretty lake,” I said, consumed by the moon’s hazy reflection on the surface.

“It’s a tarn,” Liam said as the door swung wide open.

I rolled my eyes. “It’s a tarn pretty lake.”

He entered first. “I’ll find the lights. Sit here for a minute.” He pulled a sheet off a plush leather couch that faced the glass overlooking the water and helped me get situated. “I’ll be right back.”

I heard his footsteps trail off into the dark, and then the room flooded with light. A tall stone fireplace dominated one wall of the room, the chimney rising two stories to the vaulted ceiling. The floor was polished pine boards covered in soft Navajo rugs, and all the furniture was overstuffed and leather—perfect for Liam’s large frame.

“What is this place?” I asked as he came back in the room holding a stack of fluffy towels.

“The shower is down the hall,” he said gesturing over his shoulder. “Here are some towels. I’ll put them in there for you.” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Will you be able to do it, or do you need some help? You have to keep that bandage dry.”

“I… uh… I should be able to do it,” I muttered, too exhausted to say much more.

“Okay. Good.” He gave a relieved sigh, avoiding eye contact. “I’ll bring the stuff in from the car.”

“Thank you.” I slowly stood and followed him to the bathroom. I admired his broad shoulders, the muscles of his back outlined under the tight black t-shirt he wore. It was tucked into his black cargo pants, revealing his narrow waist and hips above his long muscular legs. I enjoyed the back view immensely, although it was quickly forgotten at the sight of the enormous tile shower.

I couldn’t wait to wash the blood and sweat from my body. My hair was sticky and matted to the back of my head. My torn shirt hung off one shoulder below the bulky white bandages. The rest of the shirt was stiff with dried blood. My favorite zombie shirt looked as though it hadn’t survived the apocalypse.

“Can you… uh… help me get the rest of this shirt off?” I held my right arm tight against my ribs, trying to put as little pressure on my shoulder as possible. “I don’t think I can get it off with one arm.”

“Um,” he looked me over nervously, “sure.” Liam shifted from foot to foot. “Turn around.” I faced away from him, watching his movements in the mirror as he reached for the bottom of my shirt and slowly peeled it off me. He took great care working it over my bandaged shoulder and then up over my other arm. He never took his gaze from mine. Our eyes met in the mirror, and he held mine there the whole time. I finally broke the connection when I turned toward him and took my torn, soiled shirt from his hands.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“Ah, yeah.” He ducked his head, rubbed the back of his neck, and turned to go out the door. “Call me if you need any more help.”

“I will,” I said, shutting the door behind him. However captivating he was, I smelled awful. I really needed a shower.