Lumberjacked (A Holiday Lumberjack Mountain Man Romance) - K.C. Crowne Page 0,1

I didn’t go down easily, but the area was dangerous and getting more so by the second. Logs fell across my path, rocks tumbled down. I ducked to avoid a thick branch hitting me over the head.

For a moment, I lost sight of her. I followed the sound of her shouts, something primal in me forcing through the danger to get to her. The strange woman needed help, and I was the only person for miles. I’d grill her later about why the hell she was out here in the first place.

When I reached her, I was just in time to yank her out from underneath a falling tree that crashed to the ground. She spun around when I grabbed her, green eyes bewildered. She was a looker, that I was certain. And her reaction to me was defensive, though not afraid.

“Whoa! Who the hell are you?”

“We’re getting out of here, now!” I shouted.

She shouted something in return, but a loud crashing drowned out her voice. A branch crashed down, followed by mud and dirt. I tried to get away, but the ground gave underneath my feet, and we were stuck. I tucked her against me and turned my back. The branch landed on me with a noise like a train wreck. I gritted my teeth as a searing pain throbbed into my shoulder. But the woman was safe. I squeezed my eyes shut as more debris fell around us. A few small rocks, dirt, and some branches and leaves fell on me, but the worst was over.

When it was safe and the forest was silent again – mourning in the aftermath of the terror it had spread – I opened my arms and looked down. The green-eyed beauty was unconscious.

Shit.

With a sigh, I picked her up, her body limp in my arms. She was tiny, 5’4” at the most, and light as a feather. Lifting her took no effort at all, and I turned, trudging up the hillside like fucking Tarzan taking Jane back to safety.

As soon as I was on solid ground, I laid her down on the mulch and studied her, checking for injuries that might be life-threatening. God, she was beautiful. An angel.

She had a bruise on the forehead, matted blood in her hair, but neither injury looked too serious. Her skin was smooth with a tiny splash of freckles across her nose. Perfect full lips, delicate neckline, everything perfect. My eyes slid down her body and found curves enough to make a man’s mouth water. She was in fucking good shape, too.

Her clothes were torn, and through the rips her soft, smooth skin showed. A long tear up her leg showed the pale skin of her thigh through her jeans, and I swallowed. My cock was suddenly at full attention, straining against my pants.

Nyet, I told myself. I could not want her. Not like this. She was unconscious, helpless, possibly injured, even if not serious. Frowning, I stared at her. Who the hell is she? And how did she end up in these parts of the woods where hardly any soul trespassed?

Had Maksim sent her to find me? I wouldn’t expect a woman like her for a spy for the mob, so that would make her perfect. But a spy? He couldn’t imagine Maksim would let a beauty like her slip out of his grasp. He’d want her for himself, and that thought bothered him more than it should have.

I didn't know who the hell she was, so I needed to keep my guard up. But she needed help. She needed to be patched up, taken care of.

Bringing her back to my cabin crossed my mind, but I didn’t like anyone knowing where I lived. The whole point of being up here was so no one could find me. Or figure out who I was.

Even if this girl was an innocent pedestrian, it was a major risk to let her know about my life here. I didn't exactly blend in. I was a fucking big ass Russian with a deep accent and mob tattoos all over his neck and body. Not exactly your everyday average nice guy. More like the kind of dude that had things to hide. I was bound to draw attention. And that was all Maksim would need to find me.

But fuck, I couldn’t leave her here. She needed help. And damned if I was going to abandon this creature. No fucking way. I grunted, ignoring the voice screaming at the back