Every Second In His Arms (Escape to the Bitterroot Mountains series, #3) Read online

  She admired his business sense. "You saw a need and filled it."

  He stopped the UTV. She looked over the edge, expecting to see something spectacular.

  The engine cut off. He unhooked her seatbelt. "Come with me."

  She slid off the seat and straightened, stretching her back. Walking around the vehicle, she followed him up a slight incline, wondering where he was taking her.

  Mark stopped at an outcropping of rocks and held out his hand. "Hang on to me and watch your footing. Step on the rocks where my feet go. We're not going far."

  Trusting him, she climbed up and tested the ground's stability. He picked bigger rocks for her to step on. She concentrated on climbing and Mark's broad hand holding her.

  He stopped and pulled her up until she stood in front of him, bringing her up on the same rock he stood on. She held on to his hand.

  A rusty gate covered an opening on the mountainside. Orange rocks lined the outside of the entrance like a river of gold.

  "Have you ever seen an old silver mine?" he asked.

  "No." She shielded her eyes. "Can we go closer?"

  "A little bit. You don't want to walk where the tailings come out of the mine."

  "What's tailings?" She looked down at her feet.

  "It's the dark orange colored rocks. They get that way from the excess lead and iron the miners remove from underground when they drill for silver. While it's a natural part of the earth, in concentration, it's not healthy to ingest." He tugged her forward, taking her up a few more rocks.

  He let go of her hand and manhandled her until she stood in front of him again. Holding on to her hips from behind, he said, "Lean over and look beyond the gate. I won't let you fall."

  She strained to see past the bars. "Oh, there's a river in there."

  "A stream of water. That's what's bringing out the tailings now." He pulled her back. "We better head back."

  He reclaimed her hand and led her down the hillside of rocks. She refrained from asking more questions as she navigated the side of the mountain.

  Back by the UTV, Mark let go of her. She curled her fingers, holding the warmth left over from his touch.

  "We better keep going." He slid into the seat.

  She went to the passenger side and buckled herself into the seatbelt. As he took off, she realized for the last hour, they'd actually talked to each other, and there was no angst coming from him.

  Not knowing what made him take a break from constantly pushing her away, she sat back and enjoyed the silence and views, hoping to make his better mood last longer.

  A huge bird flew off the trail and into the bushes. She snapped her gaze to him. "Did you see that?"

  "Turkey."

  "Wow." She laughed softly. "I haven't seen one in the wild before."

  "There are lots of animals in the Bitterroot. Most people are too busy not paying attention to their surroundings to see the moose in the river they passed or a herd of elk bedded down in the field." His gaze twitched, and he looked out the side, hiding his face.

  She waited for him to say more, but he went back to watching the trail. But there were added lines around his eyes.

  She wondered what brought a seriousness to the ride.

  Giving him his space, she tried to soak in the scenery the way he suggested. Not sure what to look for, she looked at the base of trees, near streams, and alongside the trail.

  Dust coated her clothes, her hair, and filled her nostrils. Remembering the base of the mountain started off dusty before becoming rocky the higher they went, she suspected they were close to the end of the ride.

  Too soon, the four wheels of the UTV hit the pavement of the county road and in the distance, she spotted Discovering the Bitterroot.

  Reluctance filled her, and she looked at Mark. He'd fallen into keeping to himself and shutting her out. She was scheduled to drive back to New Mexico in the morning.

  She wasn't ready to leave him.

  It was unfair of her to project her feelings onto him when he remained clueless about her purpose here. Maybe someday, he'd learn that she was the one who put an end to the bad parts of his life and he could go on riding on his mountain and enjoying the outdoors knowing she wasn't the irritating woman who'd forced her way to spend time with him.

  Mark parked outside the garage and shut off the engine. She undid her seatbelt.

  Though the UTV had no doors, she remained sitting, needing this one last moment with him. Shifting to her hip, she dug her hand into the pocket of her jeans and took out the two-hundred and seventy-five dollars he was due for taking her on a guided ride.

  "Thank you for taking me." She held out the money.

  He waved her off. "It's on me. I needed to get away for a few hours."

  "I can't let you—"

  "Call us even." His gaze softened. "I haven't been 'nice' to you."

  Her spine straightened at having her own words used back on her. He'd actually listened and thought about his treatment of her. Now, it was too late to get to know him. She would be leaving.

  "It was nice to meet you, Mark DeLane. Thank you for sharing your mountain with me." She swallowed. "Maybe if I ever find myself traveling to the Bitterroot Mountains again, I'll stop by and rent an ATV from you."

  His gaze intensified. She sat gawking like a love-struck teenager. That womanly insight of when a man wanted to kiss her forced her out of the UTV. While she wanted nothing more than to experience what it would be like to have him take her in his arms and discover each other's mouths, she also knew that the kiss would torment her for the rest of her life when she was in a different state than him.

  She walked to the car, each step heavier than the last.

  Digging her keys out of her back pocket, she fumbled upon insertion and knew that she would always wonder about Mark and how he was doing. Unknowingly to him, he'd been a big part of her life for the last eight years.

  She exhaled her emotions and steadied her hand, finally getting the door open. Putting her foot on the floor of the car, she moved to slide behind the steering wheel and stopped before her ass hit the mound of fur piled on her seat.

  Straightening, she stared, trying to make sense of what she was seeing, and found two lifeless eyes staring at her. She screamed, backing away.

  Her heart raced, and a cry bubbled out of her chest. Strong arms encircled her and dragged her away.

  Chapter 12

  "It's a dead dog." Carly held on to Mark.

  "I know." He cupped her head and yelled for Kyle and Josh, needing to know they were okay.

  His hands shook, and he rubbed Carly's cheeks to hide the terror sweeping through him. The moment her scream pierced the air, he knew. Damnit, he knew something was wrong.

  "Why is there a dead dog in my car?" She peered up at him as if he had the answer.

  "It'll be okay." He kissed her forehead, needing her not to ask questions until he could think up something to tell her.

  "But, there's a dead—"

  "Kyle," he yelled, cutting her off.

  He needed to make sure everyone was accounted for. The dog was the least of his concerns. It was dead. It couldn't hurt him or her.

  "Here, boss." Kyle ran out of the house with Josh behind him.

  Glad to see his young employees, he lifted his chin. "Ride all the rentals into the garage and lock up."

  "We've got an hour until closing." Josh hooked his thumbs in his jean pockets. "Don't you want to wait?"

  "Not today. Go ahead and go home." He wanted them off the property and safe in their houses. Both boys still lived with their parents. They'd be protected.

  Holding on to Carly, he turned her away from her vehicle. "Let's get you in the house."

  "But, the dog—"

  "I'll deal with the dog later." He guided her to the front door.

  First, he needed to call Quint and Anders and make sure they were okay and warn them about what happened.

  Jaster had become predictable. They'd all waited for the next si
gn, the next threat, the next attempt to kill them. A dog—dead or alive—was Jaster's little joke on them.

  For how much seeing the dog struck fear in him, he had to contain his excitement at getting another chance to take out Jaster. Killing him would end their life-long torment.

  Inside the house, he let go of Carly to grab his phone out of his pocket. She wandered over to the window, looking out. Aware that finding the dead carcass in her car gave them insight into what she was doing on the mountain, he found himself more confused.

  Was today a setup? She'd got him away from the office.

  Or, was she a victim in Jaster's sick game?

  Not wanting to chance her knowing more about his life, he texted the others instead of calling them on the phone. He received an instant reply. Quint and Anders were on their way.

  A sob reached him. He looked up and found Carly shaking her head, staring out the window.

  "Hey, why don't we go downstairs in the bunker. You can have some coffee and try to relax while I deal with everything," he said.

  "Relax? There was a dead dog in my car. Not a live one. Not an injured one. Someone put a dead dog in my car." She turned around and walked toward him. "I'd rather have a strong drink."

  "I've got that, too." He put his hand on her lower back, feeling the tremors consuming her body.

  "You have everything here," she whispered. "Except, peace."

  He missed a step, looked at her, and going by the way she stared straight ahead, he wondered if he imagined what she'd said.

  Opening the door to the bunker, he led her inside. She made her way to the couch, pulling the blanket off the back and covering herself up despite the warm summer day. He went to pour her a drink, going right to the whiskey.

  When he returned to her, her chin trembled as if cold. "This will help."

  She cupped the glass in both hands, sniffed the liquid, and sipped, closing her eyes. He witnessed the moment the warmth hit her. That small shudder and sigh she gave wrapped around his chest and squeezed.

  All the time they'd spent butting heads, he'd wanted to push her away. The less he knew, the easier it was for him to deny his attraction to her. Now that she'd experienced a small piece of his life, he wanted to know everything about her.

  None of his feelings made sense. He was a paranoid asshole.

  It was better for her to run far away from him. Look what happened today. Because of him, she ended up with a dead dog in her car.

  She lowered the glass after taking another drink. "I don't understand why there was a dog in my car. I locked the doors. They were still locked when we got back from our ride."

  "Are you sure? You used your key?" He'd checked the car windows, looking for broken glass when he dragged her away from the vehicle. There were none.

  "Positive. I-I had trouble unlocking..." She frowned.

  "You had trouble with the key?"

  She shook her head. "I had trouble getting the key in the slot."

  "It wouldn't fit?"

  She sighed and glanced at him before looking away. "I was shaking."

  "Because you noticed something in your car?"

  "No." She groaned. "I was upset."

  "Why?"

  "Because I knew if I got in my car, I'd never see you again."

  Gut punched, he wheezed, drawing in his breath. He cradled her cheek, studying her face. Her eyes backed up her confession.

  Tears pooled at the base of her lashes. He swiped her cheekbone with his thumb, and the motion broke the control she held onto, and the wetness trailed down until it clashed with his skin.

  Her tear might as well have electrocuted him.

  "We'll talk later." He let go of her and stood. "I need to go up and—"

  An alarm rang. Carly jolted, nearly spilling the drink.

  "It's okay." He went to the control panel and turned off the buzzer. "It's only the alarm that Quint and Anders pulled into the parking lot."

  "You called them?" she asked.

  "Yeah." He walked over to the door. "I'm going to lock the door behind me. Stay down here."

  She drank from the cup, frowning, unconcerned with him leaving. He let himself out, securing the bunker, and jogged up the steps and out to the parking lot.

  Quint and Anders stood ten feet away from Carly's car. Each of them had a rifle in hand and came prepared for whatever threat was out there.

  Without looking at the car, knowing what lay inside, he joined the other two. "Before you ask, the security camera doesn't cover the cars if they're parked near the road. That's why I keep all the rentals near the garage. I do that because the traffic and people riding back and forth would set off the camera and alarms would go off all fucking night."

  Quint lit a cigarette. "What time was Jaster here?"

  "Kyle and Josh were on a five-hour ride. I took Carly out on the trail for four hours. They had to have come back right before I arrived." He scanned the area. "I'm just glad the boys were guiding a ride and not around when Jaster did his dirty work. I would hate to think of what would happen if they'd confronted him."

  "Do you think Carly got you away so the dog could be planted?" Anders looked back at the house. "Was she a decoy?"

  He shook his head. "Her terror...no, she couldn't have faked what seeing the carcass had done to her. She's shaken."

  "Jaster obviously sees her as a way to get to you." Quint exhaled the smoke.

  "I won't let him hurt her." He backed up a step. "I'll get a shovel and go bury the dog. Can you guys stick around and watch the place until I get back?"

  "Yeah." Anders walked over to his ATV. "I brought a tarp."

  "I'll help you get it wrapped," said Quint.

  With the others preparing the dog for burial, Mark went into the garage and retrieved the shovel. Whatever Carly's involvement, she had nothing to do with distracting him. He'd swear on his life.

  Chapter 13

  Mark remade the bed with clean sheets. Carly, swimming in a pair of his long thermal underwear, stood out of the way. She put up no arguments when he suggested she spend the night in the bunker instead of going back and staying at the campground in a tent.

  Even surrounded by other campers wouldn't protect her.

  She hadn't brought up going to the police about the crime because she had a feeling she knew who'd done it. But, killing a dog, was something unimaginable. A level that she personally hadn't witnessed before or read about in the reports.

  Yet, she'd read much worse in the file hidden in her luggage back at Bitterroot Campground.

  God, she needed to call her mother.

  Finding her phone in her discarded jeans, she yawned.

  "You won't get a good signal down here." He tossed the pillows up on the bed. "You can use mine. It works off a satellite and gets a stronger signal."

  Not wanting to inconvenience him or leak her mom's phone number to him or the others, she put her cell back. "That's okay. It can wait until the morning."

  "You're about ready to fall asleep standing." He looked over the bed. "Do you need anything else."

  "No, this is more than enough after sleeping on the ground in a tent." She stepped over to the bed and sat down. "Comfy."

  "Well, there's not much room in here. I'll be on the couch, so if you need anything, just wake me up." His gaze swept down her body and back up to her eyes. "It gets chilly during the night, despite the temperature above ground. There's a heater that might click on."

  "Okay." She yawned and lost sight of him as her eyes squeezed shut.

  When she opened them again, he was across the room sitting on the couch with his back to her. Crawling into the middle of the bed, she pulled the covers over her and nestled her head in the pillow. God, his bed, felt good.

  She closed her eyes.

  "CARLY, WAKE UP."

  She jolted awake. "Yes, I'm here. I'm here."

  "Are you okay?"

  Her heart beat wildly. She stared through the darkness, recognizing Mark, the bunker, and relaxed. "So
rry. I must've been dreaming."

  "You're allowed." He tilted his head, studying her. "Do you want to talk about it?"

  Talk about how her mother was in her dream? No. How the dead dog came alive and jumped out of her car door? No. How she saw Mark in her dream, and he had blood dripping down his chest? No.

  She shook her head. "What time is it?"

  "A little after two o'clock. It's the middle of the night."

  How could he be wide awake? She stared at his bare chest, wishing she could see him better. He was such a complex, mysterious man to get to know, but certain things he couldn't hide. Like his killer body.

  "Why don't you try and go back to sleep?" he said in that deep, scratchy voice that always left her swallowing her pleasure.

  The thought of going back to the dream that woke up Mark filled her with worry. "Will you stay in bed with me?"

  He stretched out beside her without saying a word. As if he'd do anything to make her happy. The move a contradiction to how he'd treated her the past few weeks.

  Everything had changed when they'd gone on a ride yesterday, and when she'd found the dead dog in her car, he'd stepped up and tried to comfort her, even offering for her to stay with him.

  Embarrassed to have blurted out how she was feeling about him during her shock after seeing what was left in her car, she closed her eyes, taking his company for what it was...comfort.

  AN ALARM WOKE CARLY up. She lifted her head off the hard surface and opened her eyes. Mark, only inches from her, blinked back at her.

  The warmth coating the whole front of her came from his body. She'd entwined her leg over his thigh and pressed her body against his during the night, using his chest as a pillow.