Claimed By The Mountain Man Protector
She wasn’t supposed to be my assignment. She was supposed to be a favor.
When my buddy asks me to keep an eye on his little sister while she’s hiding out in the mountains, I figure it’s a weekend of perimeter checks and bad coffee. Simple. I don’t do complicated. Not anymore. Not since the last person I was supposed to protect ended up in the ground.
Then I meet her.
Loud. Stubborn. Refuses to stay in the damn cabin. Walks into town like she doesn’t have a target on her back, all swinging hips and sharp tongue and zero survival instinct.
I’m not attracted to her. I’m annoyed by her. There’s a difference.
Except she catches me watching her, and instead of being afraid, she smiles. The kind of smile that says she knows exactly what she’s doing to me and she’s not sorry about it.
I don’t get close. I don’t get involved. I stand between the threat and the person I’m guarding, and I don’t let it get personal.
But she’s already under my skin. And the threat? It’s closer than either of us realized.
Now the only thing more dangerous than the man hunting her is what I’ll do to anyone who tries to take her from me.
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