Mountain Wild (Harlequin Historical Series) by Stacey Kayne Page B

fend for herself under such harsh conditions? Catching his gaze, she paused before taking another bite. Her tense expression suggested she’d rather be dining alone.
    “You were out hunting in that storm?” he asked.
    “That deer meat didn’t jump into my stewpot on its own.”
    Garret grinned. The flat line of her lips didn’t so much as twitch.
    “I don’t imagine it did. Guess you caught more than you bargained for.”
    “I did indeed.”
    “You must have been at the end of your food stores to be hunting in this storm?”
    Her jaw tightened.
    “I’m stocked up just fine,” his nameless savior insisted.
    He wasn’t new to stubborn women. Wasn’t a woman born more stubborn than his older sister—or so he’d thought.
    “A tracking snow can be real useful. It was—before the storm hit. You were the one so far from home.”
    If he’d ended up here, what had happened to Duce?
    “My business partner didn’t ride in at noon. Duce wouldn’t have stayed out in that weather unless he was having trouble or had found trouble.”
    “I’d been hunting in those lower ranges the whole day. I didn’t come across anyone or hear any other gunshots.”
    He hoped Duce had made it back to the ranch. “How long have you lived up here?”
    “A while.”
    Boots pounced up beside her, his front paws landing in her lap. “I already fed you,” she said, her lips hinting at a smile.
    “Sorry about that.”
    “I’m used to it by now.” She scratched at his ears, turning his cow dog to a limp pile of fur.
    “You’ve spoiled him. Boots usually has better manners.”
    “You’ve been far more trouble than he has.”
    God save him, her smiling eyes sent a whisper of sensation across his skin as images flooded his mind. Unnerved by the rush of desire, he swept his gaze over the small space.
    Simple, clean, the nicest cave he’d ever seen. Small and dank, yet livable— for a miner. So where the hell was he?
    “More?” she asked, reaching for his bowl.
    The first two servings had taken the edge off his hunger, but he could easily put away another. “Only if you’re sure you can spare it.”
    She pushed his dog aside and went to the stove. His gaze followed her dainty form, trailing down the part of her braids to her slender, kissable neck.
    He pinched his eyes shut. If he’d actually made advances on her in her sleep, she’d be tossing him out on his ear, notserving him stew. And yet…he could practically feel her arms around his neck as she had kissed him into unconsciousness. He looked up as she stepped beside him, her eyes full of caution as she slid the bowl and mugs onto the table—she sure as hell didn’t like being near him.
    “You’ve saved my life,” he said. “And I still don’t know your name.”
    “I couldn’t rightly leave you in the snow.” She turned away and he caught her by the wrist.
    “That’s the second time you’ve avoided telling me your name. Who are you and where is your husband?”
    “If you value that hand,” she said, the chill in her tone raising the hair on the back of his neck, “move it.”
    Garret had lived with temperamental females long enough to know when his hide was in danger. This wasn’t a woman who took kindly to being backed into a corner—or grabbed by the wrist. She didn’t move to pull away but the cold clarity in her eyes told him her other hand was already gripping the hilt of her blade. A sudden move on his part would have painful results.
    Biting back a swear word, he opened his fingers.
    “My apologies.”
    She took a step back, glowering at him as she rubbed her wrist. He knew he hadn’t used enough pressure to bruise her soft skin.
    “Well?” he persisted. “Why isn’t your husband here? You are married, aren’t you?”
    “I don’t see how my life history would be beneficial to you, Mr. Daines.”
    “Considering I’ve been lying naked in your bed for the past few days,” he said bluntly, “asking your marital status seems a fair