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  Kate tensed against the intimacy of his touch as she felt the bare skin of his forearms brush against her thighs. She barely knew this man and now he was only inches away, with nothing between them but a thin piece of fabric. She breathed in the clean, spicy scent of his aftershave. It was distinctly male just like the man wearing it. Peeking at his profile, Kate noted the strong, rigid lines in his face. This was a man at ease with his surroundings. The shadow of his day old beard only added to his rugged attractiveness.

  “Here we are.” Sam set her down, waiting to release his hold until she had grasped the edge of the sink for support. “Things work a little differently in the wilderness. Your tissue goes in the trash. Only natural waste in the potty. I have chemicals under the sink for breaking it down.” He glanced at her shocked expression. “Think of it as a potty you would find on a boat. The little lever on the floor flushes it into a holding tank.”

  “I think I can manage by myself now.” Kate blushed at the intimate nature of the conversation.

  His lips twitched with suppressed humor, as if he could read her thoughts. “Bang on the wall when you’re finished. I’ll come back for you.”

  Kate nodded, shutting the door firmly behind him. She turned and caught her reflection in a small oval mirror centered over the sink. The sight of her pale, disheveled appearance made her groan out loud.

  “This is definitely not one of my finer moments.” I probably smell, too. She sniffed under her arm and wrinkled her nose in response. Her concern was validated.

  After scrubbing her face and body with a rough washcloth, Kate boldly used Sam’s toothbrush and deodorant. She combed the tangles out of her hair until it hung in a dark curtain across her shoulders. As she opened the door, a deep voice greeted her.

  “There you are.” Sam peeked around the island counter in the kitchen. “Feel better?” He hurried to her side, pausing as his cool blue gaze washed over her. “You clean up nice.”

  Her pulses pounded at his frank admiration and even more when he swung her into his arms. She automatically wrapped one arm around his neck, curling her free hand against his chest.

  “Can I sit out here with you? I don’t want to go back to the bedroom.”

  Sam turned his head to acknowledge her request, his warm breath fanning her cheek. His eyes beckoned with an unspoken invitation, slowly trailing to her parted lips. Her heart fluttered as the heat from his body infused her with an undeniable longing.

  Without saying a word, he directed his footsteps to a large room adjacent the kitchen. Sam lowered her to the couch, pausing to plump a loose pillow behind her back before pulling a fringed blanket across Kate’s lap.

  “Your feet are cold. I’ll get some socks from the bedroom.”

  She watched his retreat, welcoming the chance to quiet her racing heartbeat. Her reaction to him had nothing to do with reason. It was primal and unlike anything she’d ever experienced.

  Diverting her gaze to the cozy living area, Kate scanned the open room. A vaulted ceiling with heavy oak beams added height, as did the large stone fireplace stretching to the peak. The sofa sat perpendicular to the small kitchen, separated by a small island counter. Knotty pine cabinets and doors added a rustic flair that screamed with masculinity.

  It suited him, she conceded, gingerly pushing herself farther into the cushion.

  Sam emerged from the bedroom with a pair of wool socks. “It’s important to keep your extremities warm,” he murmured, pulling her pink polished toes to the edge of the sofa. Kneeling down, he stretched a sock over each foot.

  “I should check your bandage. It probably needs changing.” His fingers brushed her thigh causing Kate to tug at the hem of her shirt. Sam twisted his mouth into a half grin.. “I’m only checking the bandage,” he drawled mockingly. “Relax.”

  Deft fingers gently removed the gauze, exposing an angry, red gash across her thigh. “No wonder it hurts.”

  “It’s mostly a surface wound. Be thankful it didn’t sever your femoral artery or penetrate the tendon.”

  Sam retrieved a first aid kit from the kitchen and began to clean the afflicted area, softly blowing on the wound when she flinched from the sting. A fiery tingle raced through her which she knew had nothing to do with the the antiseptic. He turned her leg toward the light.

  “It’s looking much better.”

  “If that’s better, I can only imagine how it looked before you treated it.”

  “It wasn’t pretty,” he grinned.

  She liked the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled. His relaxed friendliness completely disarmed her. After applying the last strip of tape over the gauze, Sam rose to his feet.

  “You saved my life,” she said softly. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

  To her surprise, deep crimson crept up his neck and spilled into his cheeks. “It’s nothing. Just doing my job.” He cleared his throat and headed toward the kitchen.

  Good looking, and humble, too. Not a bad combination.

  “How do you feel about a real meal? I’m sure the chicken broth from this morning didn’t last long.”

  “I’m starving, as a matter of fact.”

  “Good. I’ve marinated some beef tips in a wine sauce. They’re pretty good over steamed wild rice.”

  Her face registered surprise. “That doesn’t sound like wilderness stew. Are you a gourmet cook?”

  “Not even close but there isn’t much to do during the winter months so I’ve had time to perfect a couple of recipes.” He glanced up while grabbing an onion from a nearby basket on the kitchen bar. “It’ll be nice to share a meal with someone.”

  “Don’t you get lonely living by yourself?”

  He shrugged. “I did at first but it’s not so bad now. I enjoy life on the mountain.”

  “And does this mountain have a name?”

  The teasing laughter was back in his eyes as he glanced up. “As a matter of fact, it does. The locals call it Lost Mountain.”

  “Wonderful. I’m stuck on Lost Mountain. Does that mean no one will ever find me?” She tried to make a joke.

  “I found you.”

  “Yeah, but you live here,” she retorted dryly, “so you must be lost, too. Is that by choice or happenstance?”

  “I like the solitude.” Kate noticed he had stopped chopping. His eyes drilled into the cutting board as if he were deep in contemplation.

  “How long have you lived here?”

  “Almost three years.”

  “Three years?” Her voice reflected shock.

  “I travel to town once in a while,” he retorted. “It’s not like I haven’t seen people in all that time.”

  “But why . . .”

  Sam slammed the knife on the cutting board as his gaze raked over her. “What is this? Twenty questions?” He sounded angry. “It’s not a strange lifestyle if one enjoys it. I like it here. It suits me.”

  Kate grew quiet. He was acting defensive. There must be more to his reclusive lifestyle than he was letting on.

  “I think you’re hiding from something,” she challenged. “It’s not normal to isolate one’s self in the wilderness.”

  He quickly retaliated. “Crazy to one person is normal to another. What made you decide to take off across the country with secret papers in tow? Now that’s what I call crazy. Especially for a single female.”

  Kate accepted the gauntlet with zest. “I’m used to taking care of myself. And I’m not a typical female,” she replied haughtily.

  His gaze dropped from her eyes to her shoulders to her breasts. “Really? You could have fooled me.”

  Kate fought against the urge to pull the shirt closer to her neck but decided it would only draw attention to her discomfort. “I work as a process server. I would say that makes me unique to my gender.”

  His response was exactly what she had hoped - wide, bulging eyes with mouth gaping in stunned silence.

  “A process server? You deliver summons?”

  She nodded.

  “
Okay, you win. I would have never guessed. What made you decide to go into that line of work?”

  “I was trying to prove to my Dad I could take care of myself. He was very protective of me and didn’t want to take the job with Buckman Labs. After a few months of seeing how well I could manage, he changed his mind.” She laughed. “I’ve earned a reputation in the industry. A positive reputation,” she added when he smirked. “People are surprised when I serve them. Being a female is a good cover.”

  “To say I’m stunned would be an understatement,” he chuckled. “Do you enjoy your work?”

  “It’s only a job, Sam. It pays the bills. My real goal is to be a wildlife artist. I’ve picked up some freelance work but never snagged a long term contract.”

  She felt the heat radiating across her cheeks as he continued to stare at her. Her eyes dropped to her fidgeting fingers. Why would she share her most intimate dream with Sam Holden? The man was a total stranger. Maybe that was the answer. Sometimes it’s easier to speak of unattainable goals with someone you know you’ll never see again.

  “What about you?” Kate directed the questions back at her host. “I’m sure you haven’t been a mountain man all your life. What did you do before moving up here?”

  “I was in law enforcement. ATF division.”

  It was Kate’s turn to be surprised. “Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms? That must have been more exciting than sitting out blizzards in a two room cabin. Why did you leave?”

  “It was a personal choice,” he countered quietly, returning his attention to the onion. “I needed a change.”

  Personal choice? Who in their right mind would make a personal choice to live in this God forsaken wilderness? It wasn’t normal to walk away from everything. And everyone. Sam was a good looking guy. He must have left more than one disappointed woman behind.

  Kate secretly contemplated her host as a new line of thought took hold. His background in law enforcement might be useful. What would it take to persuade Sam Holden to accompany her to Atlanta?

  He looked up, interrupting her scrutiny. Blue eyes seemed to bore right through her as she shifted nervously on the sofa. Better stay on his good side.

  “If you want to be a recluse, its fine with me,” she smiled brightly in an attempt to lighten the mood. “I feel like running away myself some days.”

  His expression immediately clouded. Kate realized too late that she had said the wrong thing.

  “You have no idea why I’m here” he growled. “I’m not running from anything.” The muscles in his jaw tightened before he whirled around to face the stove, positioning his back to her.

  Kate shivered in the wake of his anger. No more personal questions, she vowed silently. There was something in his past he didn’t want to discuss. Something that made him volatile. If Sam Holden wanted to live in self-imposed exile, it was fine with her - as long as he got her off his damn mountain.

  Kate picked up a leather bound book from the side table and absently thumbed through the pages. It was one of those great literary works everyone talks about and nobody reads. Except Sam Holden. He apparently was reading it, evidenced by a photograph marking his page. She pulled out the picture and studied the image. Sam appeared younger, happier. In the crook of his arm sat a small toddler.

  Did Sam have a son? And if so, where was his wife? She tugged at her lip as an odd twinge of disappointment spiked through her.

  Kate blushed when she looked up and realized he was staring at her. “I. . .I was wondering who the little boy is,” she stammered, pointing at the photograph. His nostrils flared angrily but Kate pressed on. “Is this your son?”

  “No.” His tone was curt, making it clear he would not elaborate.

  If the child was not his son, who was he? “He’s so cute. How old is he?”

  “Three.”

  “He’s looking at you like he’s your number one fan,” she joked playfully. “Have you seen him since you moved up here?”

  “No.” His voice was a low whisper hanging in the air between them. “He was my godchild.”

  Was? Kate floundered in an agonizing maelstrom as her hand clamped over her mouth.

  Sam removed the saucepot from the stove and set it aside. With quiet grace he crossed the room and took the photograph from her hand, gently rubbing his thumb over the worn edge. After a moment, he handed it back to her.

  “Jacob.”

  Kate’s eyes never left his face as he towered in front of her. Confusion tumbled around her, tightening her throat.

  “His name was Jacob,” he muttered thickly. “I killed him.”

  Chapter Seven

  “Sam, you don’t have to talk about this.”

  He lowered himself beside her, squeezing his eyes shut against the images darting through his mind. Kate was right. He didn’t have to talk about it. Nor did he want to talk about it. The pain still sliced through him like a shard of broken glass.

  Part of him, however, wanted Kate to know the truth. It was the best way to stop the attraction between them. Once she knew the truth, those violet eyes would hold nothing but repulsion.

  “Jacob’s dad and I were best friends. We went through the police academy together. Keith married and stayed local. I went to the ATF. But we always remained close.”

  Sam took Kate’s hand, absently lacing her fingers with his own.

  “The ATF suspected someone was smuggling confiscated guns out of the precinct where Keith was assigned. Evidence pointed to him and a couple of other guys. Since we were friends, my boss decided I should head up the undercover team.” Pain flickered across his face. He felt a slight squeeze to his hand and realized their fingers were still entwined.

  “It must have been a horrible situation for you.” Kate whispered softly. “What did you do?”

  “Internal Affairs was involved. I had to cooperate. At first I agreed because I was sure Keith was innocent. When it became apparent he was guilty, I wanted to bring him down.”

  “Some people follow the wrong path without knowing how to self correct. Maybe your friend was like that.”

  Sam grunted derisively. “Thanks for the sentiment but that would give Keith too much credit. The truth is he and his wife, Jenna, preferred to live beyond their means.” He sat forward, staring at an obscure point on the wall. “I arranged the sting on a night when I knew Jenna and Jacob would be gone. I was wired for sound when I went to his house. My backup was ordered to wait until I had something solid for the prosecutors.”

  “I tried to talk to Keith about the rumors. He laughed and assured me it was just gossip but I knew he was lying. I kept pushing for the truth. He finally admitted to supplying a local drug dealer with a couple of unregistered pistols. For a fee, of course. He said he only planned to do it once. He just wanted enough to pay off some credit cards.”

  “Did you believe him?”

  “Yes, until he bragged about earning more money in fifteen minutes than he had made in two months as a police officer. He struck a deal with the gang leader and it became a regular transaction. He and his partner would falsify documents about what they confiscated on busts, and sell the guns for cash.”

  “You got his confession on tape?”

  Sam nodded. “He told me the whole story. I should have waited for backup. Instead, I grabbed his arm and tried to cuff him. I was pissed,” he said defensively. “Keith pulled a gun on me and I went crazy. When I lunged at him, it went off, nicking my shoulder.”

  Kate grew quiet, her fingers digging into his arm.

  “We were in the kitchen. I ducked behind the door with my weapon and tried to reason with him. He wanted none of it. He fired at me again. I sat on the floor with my gun drawn and waited. I knew he would come back to finish me off.”

  “Where was your backup?”

  “They were parked two blocks away. During our scuffle, my wire came loose so they had no idea Keith was trying to kill me until they heard the gunshots.” Sam continued in a wooden voice. “I heard a noise in the ha
llway. My plan was to wait until Keith was at the entry, fire through the door and hit his leg. I figured I could disarm him as soon as he hit the floor.” He swallowed hard, his body tensing. “I didn’t want to kill him,” he choked hoarsely. “I just wanted to put him in custody.”

  Kate’s fingers stroked the back of his neck. He leaned into her comforting touch.

  “What happened? Did your plan work?”

  “I heard a noise, saw a shadow and fired low through the door, just like I planned. There was a thump. I got to my feet but when I reached the other side,” his voice trembled, “I found Jacob lying on the floor.”

  He steeled himself against the emotions ramming his insides. “Jenna had left Jacob with Keith at the last minute because the little guy wasn’t feeling well. When Keith and I exchanged gunfire, it woke Jacob up. He must have come to the kitchen because he heard my voice. He. . .he died in my arms.”

  “Oh, Sam! I can’t imagine anything more horrible. I’m so sorry.”

  He remained silent, not trusting himself to speak. Jacob’s death occurred a long time ago and yet it still tortured him as if it had just happened.

  “Was your friend captured?”

  “Keith escaped through the bedroom window. My backup arrived just in time to slap the cuffs on him. Jenna never forgave me and unfortunately, neither did the guys at the precinct. I violated an unwritten code of ethics - testifying against a fellow officer.” He hunched over, his arms resting on his thighs. “I lost my enthusiasm for law enforcement so I came up here.”

  Kate leaned her head against his shoulder. “You were doing your job. Don’t ever be ashamed of that.” She tightened her embrace. “It was an accident.”

  Sam buried his face against her hair. Where was the disgust? The hatred? He’d murdered a child. Kate should be recoiling from his touch with revulsion. But she wasn’t. She was leaning into it.

  He pulled back. Smoldering sparks emanated from a fringe of dark lashes. Her tongue darted across her lips, stamping her mouth with an inviting glisten as her breasts swelled against his chest.