The Princess and the Prepper Read online

  The animal had once been a pet, released into the wild when his owner could no longer cope, and then looked after by his aunt who’d owned the cabin before him. Grant had assumed her role. The wolf put too much trust in him, but he couldn’t bring himself to drive him away. Ironic how a wild animal should occasionally desire human contact when Grant mostly didn’t. He shoved the door shut with his shoulder. Shadow turned in a circle twice, settled in front of the stove, and farted.

  The woman stirred in his arms. He had to fight the impulse to tell her that it wasn’t him who’d let one rip and then her eyes fluttered open. They were dark blue, the deep violet of a mountain lake. Oh God. Why couldn’t she be ugly? The snow on his hair melted, dripping down his neck and cheeks, and he needed to put her down. In a minute. He didn’t quite understand why he felt so content holding her because there was no doubt in his mind whatsoever that he’d just carried a shitload of trouble over his threshold.

  “Think you can stand?” he asked.

  She nodded. Or was that just her shaking? He carefully let go of her legs, and when her boots settled on the boards, he pulled off his gloves and unfastened his coat. Her trembling grew more severe, and as he released the zipper keeping them pinned together, her knees sagged. Grant swept her up and laid her on the rug in front of the stove, next to the wolf. He grabbed the throw from the back of the couch and unfolded it over her. He hadn’t missed the bruises on her body. The yellow and brown marks stood out against her pale skin, damage not recently made. Maybe she was a whore who’d hooked up with the wrong guy.

  He picked up his gloves, returned to the door, and hung them with his jacket before he bent to unfasten his boots. Once he’d slipped his feet into more comfortable shoes, he took the few steps across the room to the area that served as his kitchen and put water on to boil. He could feel her watching him but didn’t turn to look. His cock was still hard. Had she noticed? How could she not? He yanked his shirt out of his pants and let it hang below his sweater. Oh yeah, that’s going to fool her.

  Grant took the venison out of the fridge and cut a large chunk for Shadow. Lifting the wolf’s bowls from the cupboard usually brought the animal to his side but by the time he’d chopped up the meat and put it in the container and placed the bowl of water beside it, he still hadn’t come. He turned to see the wolf lying closer to the woman, his head resting on her neck. His heart lurched until he saw pale fingers stroking Shadow’s head. The wolf gave a near-orgasmic rumble of pleasure, and Grant felt a pathetic stab of jealousy. But at least it deflated his cock.

  “Shadow, dinner,” he snapped and the wolf padded to his side.

  Once the water had boiled, he made coffee. He spooned three teaspoons of sugar into hers, cooled it, and turned to see Shadow was already back in front of the fire, the meat gone in a few gulps. The woman lay curled up with him, her eyes closed. Grant crouched by her side and put the coffees on the floor. He pulled his hat from her head and laid it to dry on the hearth. Her short blond hair stuck to her forehead, and he had to fight the temptation to rake his fingers through it.

  “Need to take off your boots,” he said.

  He slipped his hand under the throw, wrapped his fingers around her lower leg, and levered the boot down from the heel, twisting slightly to remove it. Jimmy Choo? Expensive footwear. He peeled the ragged stocking away from her cold skin, and then did the same with the other leg. She’d lost a heel from one boot. Was that why she’d been limping? Her toes were white and stiff, and when he wrapped his hands around them, she opened her eyes and started.

  “You’re in my cabin,” he said. “I found you wandering along the road…in your underwear.” In case she thought he’d stripped her.

  Hypothermia could leave victims confused but her eyes looked clear and bright and gorgeous. Oh damn.

  “Thank you…so much…f-for rescuing me.” Her teeth chattered. “S-s-sorry to be a nuisance.”

  His jaw dropped. What the hell sort of accent was that?

  “Think you can sit and take a drink?”

  He had to help her up and then lifted the mug to her mouth. Her hands shook too hard to hold it.

  She grimaced. “I d-don’t d-d-drink black coffee.”

  “It’s all I have.” He held the mug at her lips and she sipped. “Where the hell are you from?”

  “Ar—kansas.”

  He stifled his laugh. “It’s pronounced Ar-kan-saw.”

  “Oh.”

  “You’re not American.”

  She let out a shaky sigh. “Half English, half German.” The accent was now British.

  “Why were you trying to sound American?”

  “In case…” a violent tremor ran through her body, “…someone happens to be l-looking for a half-English, half-German w-woman.”

  He helped her take another sip. “And will they?”

  “I expect so.” She seemed depressed at the thought.

  “Want to tell me who the someone is?”

  “Not really.”

  “Do I need to call the police?”

  He hadn’t thought she could look paler, but the last color leached from her face, and a couple more bruises showed up.

  “No. There’s a s-simple explanation for all this. I just…can’t think of it at the moment.”

  He laughed. “Best not to warn me if you’re going to make something up. I’m guessing you were dumped from a vehicle.”

  “When I accepted the ride, I hadn’t understood the price. I objected to the driver’s overtures and he b-became violent. I slithered out of his truck, and he drove off.”

  “You could have died.”

  She nodded.

  A muscle twitched in his cheek. “Did he…?”

  “No. I f-fought him off. With my hands. Couldn’t find a machete.”

  What? He held the mug for her, and when her fingers brushed against his, they still felt like ice.

  “I’m cold, tired, and confused,” she whispered.

  Shadow swept his face against the woman’s and whined.

  “He looks like a wolf,” she muttered.

  “That’s because he is a wolf. Shadow comes and goes as he pleases.”

  “Lucky thing.”

  Even as he watched, he saw the woman begin to shut down. Her eyes fluttered closed, and her body slumped. He needed to get her warmed up, but he didn’t have enough hot water to fill the tub. Shadow curled around her.

  “Yep, one lucky wolf,” he murmured.

  Chapter Two

  Grant cooked himself a venison steak and watched the wolf and the woman while he ate. Shadow’s behavior surprised him. Maybe he missed female company. The wolf opened his eyes and pricked his ears.

  “Mind reader?” he asked. “Ready to leave now?”

  The wolf settled down again, and he smiled. The heat of the stove and Shadow’s warmth would slowly increase the woman’s temperature. Too much, too fast could be dangerous. He didn’t see the point in dragging the paramedics out here. They’d have a difficult journey and he could do as much for her as they could. She’d drunk very little coffee. He didn’t have anything sweet to give her to eat. Chocolate would have been ideal, but he hadn’t bought any since…

  He sighed. The bruises worried him, and he tensed as he recalled how many there were. Someone had been hurting her, probably the someone she’d run from. Unfortunate that not only had she chosen the wrong guy to ride with, she’d also ended up with another sort of wrong guy, though he wouldn’t hurt her. Not like that.

  He carried his plate to the sink, washed and dried the dishes, and put everything away. Order and routine in his life were important, and finding her had unsettled him, put him on edge, made him…annoyed. He didn’t let people in the cabin, ever. It was rare anyone came to call, and if they did, he spoke to them outside.

  His fingers rested on the cell phone in his pocket. He could call Jake North, Evans Point’s sheriff, and tell him what had happened, but a glance through the window told him no one would come out in this weath
er unless it was an emergency. Besides, until he knew why she was running, he was reluctant to do anything because, although he’d been in the cabin for a year, he was running, too.

  When he bent to feel her toes, he sucked in a breath. They felt as cold as when he’d taken off her boots. Her fingers were little better. She looked like an alabaster angel. It was tempting to rub her hands but that would bring blood to the surface of her skin and she’d lose more heat.

  “I’m going to put her to bed, Shadow. You staying?”

  The wolf yawned and rolled onto his side.

  Grant scooped the woman and blanket into his arms. He could feel the cold wetness of her panties, the chill of her limbs, and was struck by a rare moment of indecisiveness. Could he handle this on his own, or did he need to call for help? Whichever he did, she needed warming in the meantime.

  He carried her into the bedroom, put her on the bed, and unwrapped her from the blanket. His lungs locked as he looked at her, his gaze lingering on the swell of her breasts, the flatness of her belly, her angular hip bones. Too thin. He stripped away the underwear, trying not to look at what lay beneath. It made no difference. His cock surged against his zipper.

  What the hell was wrong with him? Too long without a woman? Bored with his hand? Well, yes. He was rougher than he should have been as he pushed her under the covers and dragged them up around her. He carried the bra and panties back to the stove and laid them on the hearth. The wolf gave him a look.

  “Yeah, I know.” Lacy, black, and expensive.

  He ought to make up a bed on the couch, but what if he woke to find she’d died? The thought of explaining a dead woman in his bed and the attention that’d draw sent a shudder rippling down his spine. If he slept with her, held her, he’d share his body heat. She might wake pissed with him, but at least she’d be alive. And maybe she’d be grateful enough to….

  Shadow gave him another look. Grant glared and crossed to the bedroom. She hadn’t moved, and her breathing seemed noisy and shallow. He stripped, tossed his clothes on a chair, and climbed in next to her before he chickened out. He could feel how cold she was before he even touched her. When he swallowed the lump in his throat, it came straight back. What if she freaked out? What if she thought trouble came in threes? What…? Oh fuck it.

  He moved up behind and spooned her, wrapping his arms around her body to pull her close. Her backside was so cold his cock shriveled in disgust. One problem solved. Grant threaded his fingers with hers, laid his upper leg along hers, and pressed her freezing toes between his. The number of times he’d dreamed about having a woman in this bed, and now that he did, it was like cuddling a block of ice.

  “Don’t go to sleep until you’re warm,” he whispered. “Talk to me.”

  “Sh-shut up. I’m tr-trying to s-sleep.”

  He smiled. “What’s your name?”

  “Lili.”

  “I’m Grant Houston.”

  “P-pleased to meet you. Hope I don’t t-turn you to ice.”

  He breathed into her damp hair. He thought he’d been prepared for anything. While not quite as dedicated as the prepping community of Evans Point, spending his formative years in the wilds of Wyoming had given him a survivalist mentality. Following his mother’s advice, he kept a store of water, food, and other essentials in case of every eventuality—excluding Armageddon, and apparently one other—finding a semi-naked woman wandering in the snow. But he lived out here and not in town for a reason. Being prepared was more about his independence than anything else. He’d opted out of the life he had for a reason, and this English-German waif had brought the world back to him before he was ready.

  Her fingers twisted in his. “Thank you,” she mumbled. “You saved my life.”

  Shadow appeared at the side of the bed. The wolf jumped up and lay on top of the covers on the other side of the woman. That was a first. The wolf had never tried to share his bed before. Did the animal sense trouble coming, or register that trouble was already here?

  The last thought before sleep overwhelmed him was that he and this pale English rose fit together perfectly.

  ***

  Lili emerged from sleep to find herself unable to move. He’d pinned her down. Her escape had been a…dream. But even before she’d completed the thought, she knew there was something wrong. After he’d had sex with her, he usually moved to the other side of the bed. He rarely held her tight unless he was making one of his points.

  Two things, Liliane. There were always two things to tell her off about, remind, complain, or whine about.

  But Dieter wasn’t holding her. Where was she? This wasn’t a hotel bedroom. It was a small room in a log cabin. The wall opposite held nothing but shelves of books, and on the adjacent wall a desk sat under a window. There were no curtains and she could see snow falling, thick flakes building up against the glass.

  She didn’t move, just tried to maintain the same pattern of breathing while she pulled her brain back into gear. She was an expert at that. Not the pulling her brain into gear, but the breathing thing. Except it never made much difference in the end. Dieter shook her awake when he felt like it.

  A memory of his fury last night made her shudder. He’d been in a really good mood earlier that day but his good humor vanished when she told him she didn’t want to sign the document. As usual, she’d given in, though she’d known they needed to talk before things went any further. She’d chosen her moment while they ate their evening meal, but her plan disintegrated as she’d started to speak. Dieter simply wouldn’t listen. So she’d come up with another plan in the restaurant bathroom.

  She’d run into the parking lot and approached a driver, climbed into his truck, fallen out of his truck, walked in the snow, started to die, and this guy…Grant, was it…and his wolf, of all things, had appeared out of nowhere. She was in bed with him and not only were they naked, that had to be his erection wedged along the crack of her bottom. Oh my God. How big is he?

  Grant hadn’t moved so she guessed he was asleep, and this was just a morning woody. Not that Dieter let those go to waste. Grant’s steady exhalations hit the back of her neck and trickled down her spine. She’d lie here, warm and comfortable, and enjoy being held by someone other than him. She didn’t want to even think Dieter’s name, didn’t want it to pollute her mind and yet knew the chances of evading him were tiny. He’d find her, Grant would let her go, and she’d end up back with a man who had serious issues that no one but she seemed to recognize.

  Unless she could stay here.

  And then what?

  She turned to face the man holding her, hoping to spend a few minutes watching him sleep, and instead found him with his eyes wide open looking at her. She flinched away so their bodies no longer touched, but they lay only inches apart. Long, dark lashes framed striking green eyes, his chin and lower cheeks dark with stubble. There was no smile on his face. His expression was unreadable, and yet Lili knew, without the tiniest shadow of doubt, here was the prince she’d waited for all her life. She felt as though she’d had her eyes shut for a long time and suddenly they’d been opened. He was the man of her dreams, the man she’d always wanted, the one she’d given up on finding. They were in bed together, naked, and she had no idea what to do. Ha.

  “Nothing happened,” he said.

  What a pity.

  “Do you remember last night?” He frowned and she wanted to kiss away the lines on his forehead, kiss her way down to his lips, kiss—

  “Last night?” he prompted.

  Lili had a split second to decide. Amnesia would buy her time. “No.”

  He raised one eyebrow.

  She sighed. “Yes.”

  He laughed. “And I hadn’t even threatened the rack or the thumb screws. Going to tell me what happened? Without lying?”

  She tried to pretend she was thinking about it. She was a terrible liar. Why didn’t they teach you how to lie at school? So much more useful than physics.

  “Would you recognize the driver again?
”

  Oh God, yes. “No.”

  “You need to work on your technique. The slight hesitation and little flicker of your eyes is a giveaway.”

  “Right. Give me a bag then.”

  “What for?”

  “I’ll put it on my head.”

  He smiled, and the bolt of lust would have taken out her legs if she’d been standing.

  His smiled faded. “Where did the bruises come from?”

  She pulled her lower lip between her teeth and bit down before she spoke. “When he wants to make his two points and doesn’t think I’m listening.”

  “Are you?”

  She grimaced. “Mostly not.”

  “Why stay with him?”

  “I’m not with him, am I? I’m in bed with you.”

  She allowed herself a tiny smile, and he rolled away from her so fast, dragging the covers with him, that Lili rolled too and ended up lying on her front. She stared as he yanked on boxers and pants and sighed mentally when she could no longer see his lovely bottom. She had a thing about guys’ backsides. It was Dieter’s best feature. Grant reached into a closet, threw a shirt on the bed, and left the room as he pulled on another.

  “Are you not a morning person?” she called after him.

  As she sat up, his face appeared at the door, and she jerked the shirt over her chest.

  “Bathroom’s in the corner. Don’t use all the hot water. There’s a spare toothbrush in the cupboard.”

  “Thank you.”

  Then he was gone again. She scuttled to the bathroom and closed the door. One look in the mirror and she recoiled. A bruise had bloomed on her cheek and another on her forehead. Her hair was a rat’s nest, her skin translucent, and the dark shadows under her eyes had been enhanced by smeared mascara. She looked like a tramp. Dieter would be furious. Her lips twitched.