Lily Harlem

 

Copyright © 2017

 

 

 

Chapter One

 

Chloe Burton reached for her bottle of beer and glanced around the crowded bar. At seven thousand feet above sea level, it wasn’t a usual drinking hole. It wasn’t only the thin air that gave the game away, it was also the dirt floor, the scruffily dressed clientele and the snow which skittered in whenever the rickety door was opened.

But the beer was cold—like everything else—and the all-male faces friendly, so she wasn’t complaining.

All except one face. She knew him only as Aaron and he was one of the few white men who lived in the remote Nepalese village of Nagasti. She’d spoken to him several times over the last few days as she’d waited for her colleague, Jim, to recover, and each time his gaze had been so intense she’d felt like he was drinking her in, memorizing her features … imagining her naked and spread before him.

Phew, what a way to heat up!

Because she’d be willing. He was handsome in a rough-and-ready kind of way. His blond hair, streaked with unusual black strands, hung over his ears and down his neck and appeared perfect for gripping. His eyes were the palest green, reminding her of the delicate moss coating tree trunks back home in England. And his jawline and neck were coated with the dense facial hair all the local men favored, no doubt it kept them warm when checking their animals on the mountain and tending the meager crops growing on the slopes.

She glanced his way. It had become a habit to know where he was.

As usual, he was looking at her from a seat in the corner. He didn’t drink alcohol, she’d noticed, and a glass of iced water sat before him. Iced water? A cold beer was fine, it was the only way to drink beer, but really … ice in his water? Up here where the temperature had been sub-zero for months?

He inclined his head, acknowledging her, and kept his gaze steady.

A small shiver ran up her back and tickled over her scalp. It was more than just his looks she found fascinating. It was the whole package. He wasn’t a man of many words, she’d found, but what he did say was to the point. And he knew the mountains better than the locals, so she’d been told. He was also tough, the freezing temperatures and bitterly cold winds barely seeming to affect him. And while everyone else huddled beneath several layers of wool, fur, and leather, he wore only dark pants and a black sweater, even when outside.

She took a sip of beer and studied the map in front of her. Two weeks ago, along with Jim, she’d set several motion sensor cameras a few kilometers from the village and spread over a wide area of the mountains. They were hoping to catch footage of snow leopards in the wild, hopefully a mother and cubs. Eager to prove herself, even though only twenty-five, as a wildlife documentary producer, Chloe had a good feeling about this place. Stories amongst the locals were rife. It seemed the leopards were around, as a couple of sheep had been taken over the last year. Sadly this made the beautiful creatures unpopular with their human neighbors, and this situation didn’t help their dwindling numbers. Add in poachers who wanted their fur, and it was no wonder these rare animals were so keen to hide away from people.

She rubbed her lips with the tip of her finger, a nervous habit, and hoped Jim would soon recover from his bad stomach. He’d been laid up since they’d returned from setting the cameras, which had meant staying in the village. He’d been too weak to travel down the mountain and he refused to be carried by Sherpa. She couldn’t blame him, because that would be a perilous and nausea-inducing way to travel.

But if she didn’t get the motion cameras back soon, she’d be going over schedule, something her boss would frown upon. And more to the point, if she hadn’t captured any footage, she wouldn’t have time to reset the cameras in different locations.

Again she glanced at Aaron.

He’d sat back and crossed his arms, his biceps straining against the material of his sweater. He was still staring straight at her.

Damn, those eyes. If only she could read them, find out what he was thinking. Sometimes she wondered if her presence annoyed him, other times it seemed as if he wanted to flip her over the table and fuck her.

Perhaps if Jim was still unwell in the morning she could ask Aaron to go with her to retrieve the cameras.

No. That was a crazy thought. Why would he help? As a carpenter, he surely always had work to do. She could pay him, but money didn’t appear to be a driving force in his life.

She tore her gaze from his and folded the map. No, she wouldn’t ask him. And she also wouldn’t wait for Jim. The forecast predicted a break in the weather for the next few days, so she’d go alone. It wasn’t as if she didn’t have the gear or the training to survive in the mountains. And retrieving a few cameras was hardly scaling Everest.

Standing, and feeling pleased she’d made a decision, she finished her beer and then headed out of the bar.

Several of the men, young and old, bid her goodnight, smiling and showing various dental issues. Her unplanned stay had been made pleasant by the friendliness of the people. Men and women were happy to chat the best they could given the language barrier, and she’d been made to feel welcome.

The night air was bitterly cold and freezing fog shimmered before her. She retrieved her flashlight and turned it on. The small room she’d rented was only a hundred yards away, but with no street lamps and a moonless sky, she needed to light her way.

She trudged along, a fresh layer of snow squeaking underfoot. She tugged up her zipper, protecting the lower half of her face from the chill, and was glad of the snow reflecting the flashlight.

She reached her low, shack-like building and pulled out the key. Fumbling a little in the dark, she suppressed a shiver. She’d be glad to light a fire and get into bed.

A soft thud came from behind her.

Turning, she raised the flashlight, her heart rate picking up.

Aaron stood only a meter from her.

“Bloody hell. What are you doing?” she asked. “You scared me.”

“I apologize.”

She pressed her hand to her chest, willing her heart to settle.

He watched her movement, his eyelids heavy and his breath collecting in the air before him.

“It’s not polite to sneak up on women in the dark.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t be out on your own in the dark.”

“This place is safe enough.” She lowered the torch down his body and rested the ring of light on his clumpy leather boots.

“It’s not safe for you.”

“What does that mean?” She raised the light to his face again.

He didn’t blink. “It means I don’t want you out alone.”

She bristled. He had no claim on her. No right to tell her what she could and couldn’t do. “I walk around London all the time.”

“This isn’t London.” He paused. “Or hadn’t you noticed?”

She frowned. His question didn’t deserve an answer. Besides, she was fascinated by the way the freezing fog had settled in his facial hair and the bangs hanging around his temples. It sparkled, as though he’d had glitter shaken over him, and it made him appear almost ethereal.

“There is more danger here than you realize,” he said.

“Like what?”

He stepped closer and cupped her elbows in his palms.

It was the first time he’d touched her, and the sensation of his fingers applying pressure to the material of her jacket sent tremors up her arms, over her shoulders, and across her back.

“I am concerned for you,” he said, lowering his face to hers.

“Why?”

“You are a white female high in the Himalayas. Your sort is not found here often.”

“Is that why you keep staring at me?”

“No.” He shook his head.

“So why?”

“Why do I stare at you, or why are you in danger?”

She wanted the answer to both questions, but chose the one her mother would opt for. “Why am I in danger?”

“The Shaman have been here. To your home.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

He tugged her to the left and reached above her door to the frame. “They’ve left this?” He plucked a feathered-covered object, the size of his thumb, from a length of string.

“What is it?” Chloe asked. She peered at it and then quickly recoiled. “Oh, yuck!”

“It’s a chicken foot.” He paused. “It’s a warning.”

“But … why?”

“You have been here too long for their comfort. You have been too familiar amongst the men of the village.”

“Hey, I resent that. Apart from some friendly chat in the bar … if you can call it that … I’ve stuck to myself.”

“That’s exactly it. How many women do you see in that place?”

“Er … well … none.”

“Exactly. It is not the way of the village.”

“But no one said I couldn’t go in.” Her mind was spinning. She’d felt welcomed, comfortable. Had she really overstepped the mark?

“They have now.” He stepped back and then hurled the offending clawed foot into the air. It was quickly engulfed in darkness and Chloe knew it would land somewhere down the steep slope to the right of her shack.

“Well.” She set down her shoulders. “They don’t have to worry anymore. I’m heading into the mountains at first light to retrieve my cameras. Then, I’ll be on my way.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Your colleague is better?”

“I don’t need Jim. I can manage alone.”

“And you’re not worried about the storm?” He folded his arms and frowned.

“There’s no storm. The forecast is settled for the next few days.”

He tipped his head and huffed.

“What’s that noise for?” She didn’t think Aaron would have the access to meteorological information the way she did.

“I disagree. There is a storm coming.”

She spun her key in her gloved hand. “I’ll take my chances.”

“That’s my point.” He wrapped his hand over hers, stilling the key. “I don’t want you taking chances.”

His gaze was intense, and heat from his body poured onto her.

“Get off me.”

He didn’t move, just made a low growling sound.

“Aaron.” She tugged her hand away. “I appreciate your concern. But I’m a big girl. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself in the mountains, even if I come across Shaman, storms, and snow leopards.”

“You really think so?”

“Yes. I do.” She turned, unlocked her door, and quickly let herself into her room.

As she closed the door, she had one last glance at the man who seemed to be tailing her. What was it with him? Why did he care about her safety so much? He hardly knew her and certainly not enough to tell her what to do.

But damn it, the guy was cute. Her heart rate had rocketed by being close to him. And when he’d touched her…