Miranda's Outlaw

Miranda knew that he planned to help her whether she wanted him along or not. She was annoyed by his assumption that she needed his help—but the challenge in those chocolate brown eyes persuaded her to hold her temper. She doubted many people got the better of this man, and after the trials she’d been through today, she didn’t have the heart for a battle.

“This mountain is dangerous, darlin’,” he said as though reading her thoughts. “Especially to inexperienced vacationers. Besides, the sooner I get you to your cabin the sooner you’ll be out of my hair. No offense, ma’am. but I like my privacy.”

Miranda didn’t bother to correct his impression that she was on vacation. Let him think what he wanted. Hopefully after today they wouldn’t see each other again. She made a mental note to send him a box of cigars, and replied stiffly, “Thank you. If you’re determined to act as a guide, can we leave? I don’t want to get caught in this storm.”

“Sure thing, darlin’.”

Working quickly they gathered up the rest of her groceries and Miranda tossed them into the sack. She tried to ignore the fact that the man’s jeans clung to his body like a second skin. Tried to ignore that the brush of his fingers against the back of her hand kindled an awareness she’d never experienced before. Tried to ignore that her body recognized in him something her mind wouldn’t accept

Thunder rumbled and streaks of distant lightning filled the sky. Miranda shivered in response. She was in trouble, even if he helped her back to the car and gave her directions. If the Mercedes had cooled enough to start, she’d still never make it to the cabin without getting drenched.

“That lightning’s still far off, darlin’. We’ll make it to your car.”

“My name’s Miranda Colby,” she said coolly. She hated being called by a generic endearment like darlin’. She wanted to be polite to him because he was going out of his way to help her but she resented his condescending tone.

“Luke Romero,” he said extending one large hand to her. The skin on his palm felt rough against her own and she involuntarily tightened her fingers. Slowly she released his hand, hating to lose the warmth, the security offered by that brief polite action. His hands were strong, capable. Not like the soft, well-manicured hands she was accustomed to shaking.

“We better get going if we’re going to beat the rain,” he said, and walked around the house. He stubbed the cigar out and put the stump in his shirt pocket. Miranda followed quickly, ready to find a warm, comfortable place.

Luke stashed her grocery bag in the back seat of his Suburban and helped Miranda into the truck. The courtesy was one that he usually didn’t bother with, but this lady looked tired. She smiled her thanks, but lines of strain bracketed her mouth, and he sensed she didn’t want his company.

He suspected her tiredness went beyond the fatigue of a long car drive or overwork. She had an air of vulnerability about her that was at odds with the elegance of her appearance. Bruised, he thought, as though even her bones ached. Shapely bones, his libido reminded him, as he walked around the truck.

Miss Colby was stacked. Though he’d sworn off women, he couldn’t help noticing the way her silk T-shirt clung to her generous curves and her designer jeans molded over rounded hips that invited a man’s touch. His palm actually tingled with the need to pat her backside.

Suddenly Luke was glad that the woman had the good sense to be leery of him. He didn’t want to play the games that women inevitably played with men. He’d moved to the mountains to escape all of that.

Luke downshifted the Suburban as he navigated the twisting dirt road. Maybe, he thought, she was just embarrassed at needing someone’s help. A lot of women these days liked to think they were self sufficient. Whatever the reason, it was none of his business. He’d come to the mountains, not to play the knight to some damsel in distress, but to rid himself of the stress and temptation in the city. To find a place where he was content and at peace.

He drove in silence, the tension in the truck simmering between them, like a live wire downed in an electrical storm.

He rounded the bend and saw a battered green sports car parked on the side of the road. Mud from last night’s rain caked the wheels. Luke bit back an instinctive curse and slowed the Suburban. “That your car?”

“Yes,” she said softly, not meeting his gaze. “I had no idea the mountain would be...”

“So steep,” he finished for her. He wished old Edgar would give up trying to make money off his hunting cabin. Without fail, he rented his place to someone with no camping experience. Luke’s first impulse was to tow her car down the mountain to the fork leading to her place, so that she’d be out of his hair. But last night’s mud and the threatening storm worked against him. He knew her car wouldn’t make it, even with the Suburban doing all the work.

Well, hell, he thought. This is what came of being neighborly. He backed the truck up to the Mercedes and got out to attach the chain to the car. Rain started to fall, not a soft summer rain, but a harsh torrent. He stood there for a minute, sure that the Almighty was punishing him for his earlier thoughts about the woman. He’d had no right to think of her in purely sexual terms and now he was paying the price.

He attached the chain to the back of his truck before climbing into the cab. Cold drops trickled slowly down his neck. The earthy scent of rain mingled with the essence of Miranda Colby. The primitive scents teased his base instincts and he reacted like a man who’d forgotten. Forgotten that cold rain could lead to cuddling. Forgotten that cuddling could lead to bold caresses. Forgotten the soft feel of that one special woman in his arms.

Miranda stared at him—guilt pouring off her like the icy drops from saturated clouds. Desire hit him hard. He knew he could never have her for his own but that didn’t change the fact that he wanted her.

In spite of the fact that she was prickly—hell, that was part of the attraction.

Oh, damn, he thought, I’ve been too long without a woman.

He didn’t say anything, or even look at her. Rain always made him irritable. It wasn’t her fault he’d given in to the unusual chivalrous impulse to help her.

“I’m sorry you got wet,” she said quietly. The tone in her voice clearly stated that she hadn’t asked for his help.

He nodded in acknowledgment, but kept silent. After stepping carefully on the gas, Luke watched through the rearview mirror as her car lurched drunkenly out of the mud. It bounced on the rutted dirt like a pull toy in the hands of a giant.

He breathed deeply, trying to absorb the essence of her into the fabric of his being. There was something pure and innocent about the woman sitting next to him, despite her city sophistication. She didn’t have the tough veneer he’d encountered in city women before. He’d known more than his share of hardened independent women who wanted only one thing from a man. And while he had no doubt that this little lady was successful, he knew there was much of life she hadn’t experienced. Part of his jaded soul was challenged by that innocence. He’d almost forgotten what innocence felt like. He quelled the urge to corrupt her.

She didn’t look like someone who’d want to be isolated on a mountain. She had the sleek polish of a professional career woman. The humidity had caused her thick hair to curl around her face in a way that brought to mind pixies. But he knew the cut would fall into a sophisticated style just as easily.

Forcing his attention off Miranda, he eased slowly forward, gathering the speed needed to tow the car up the mountain. The Suburban could tow twice the weight, but her car had him worried. The body and wheelbase were battered from driving up the mountain. Frankly, he was surprised she’d made it as far as she had. It said something about her determination.

“Please, stop.”

Startled, Luke braked and glanced at her, arching one brow in question.

“I’d rather go to my rental cabin.”

“Darlin’, your cabin is on the other side of the mountain. You’re only about twenty minutes’ walking distance in this weather, but you’re about two hours in driving time.”

“I’ll be on my way then. Thanks.”

She had the door open before her words registered. Stepping out into the pouring rain, she reached back for her food. “Give me a minute to stash this in the Mercedes—”

“There’s no way that car will make it down the side of this mountain and back up the other. I’ll let you try it if you’re determined. But I’m not going to haul you out of the mud again until the storm lets up.”

The stubborn tilt of her jaw told him he’d made a mistake. His words had been taken as a challenge instead of fact. He bet she never turned down a dare. “Darlin’, it’s the car, not you.”

She just stood there making him feel big and mean in a way he hadn’t since Brett looked up at him with big weepy eyes and asked why Luke wasn’t his daddy anymore.

“I can’t stay with you,” she said, her voice heavy with raw emotion.

“I’m not asking you to move in, darlin’, but you can stay at my cabin until the rain clears.”

She hesitated, but she really had little choice. Relictantly, she nodded, “Just until the rain lets up a bit then I’ll walk over to the rental place.”

The rain slowed to a steady downpour that Luke knew from experience would last until dawn. Though the storm wasn’t an intense one, the ground would be slick and the night treacherous. Already the sky had darkened and in another twenty minutes it would be pitch-black outside.

He waited patiently for her to reseat herself and close the door. He refused to look at her but the image of her in that wet T-shirt stayed firmly in his mind. The image of her hardened nipples peaked against the cold, damp cloth wouldn’t leave. Would they be that resporrsive to his mouth and fingers?

When she was settled, he put the truck back into motion. Damn fool woman. Hell, damn fool man for caring about her safety. The touch of vulnerability beneath her sophisticated facade made him want to protect her. Despite the lessons he’d learned about women from his ex-wife.

He couldn’t let her go alone to Edgar’s hunting cabin even though it was what he should do. The mountain and Mother Nature in general weren’t kind to the weaker sex. He knew some women were strong—stronger than him—but this little thing wasn’t.

She looked as if a gust of wind could push her over the side of his mountain. She had no car, no coat and would probably insist on taking that bag of junk food with her. Luke shook his head and cursed his daddy for raising him with a strict code pertaining to women. Without that upbringing he’d probably let her go off on her own.

He pulled into his driveway and stared at the woman next to him. The woman whose pretty gray eyes reminded him of the mist that ringed the mountain most mornings. A keen intelligence gleamed in her gaze along with a trace of fear. Fear of him? he wondered.

He walked around to open her door but she was already standing on the ground when he got there. She had that bag of groceries clutched to her chest like a shield. Tugging the sack from her, he started for his house, letting her follow.

A damp chill settled over him as he led her to the front porch of the cabin he’d built with his own hands. Staring at it now—imagining how it looked to her eyes—he felt a sense of pride.