Page 26 of The Betrothal

The sound of movement in the house had stopped in the early afternoon, and I took it to mean I was alone. Making the most of Ben’s recommendation, I explored the bathroom. I had enough of my own toiletries for a short while, but I took advantage of the large shower, brushing my teeth, washing and combing out the mess that was my hair and drying it with the hairdryer on display on the granite countertops.

The cottage really was beautiful, traditional yet everything was modern in its capacity, as though the men had chosen function and capability and then ensured country-living by design.

Realising my clothes I’d rambled in were absolutely not clean, I opted for a pair of leggings and an oversized jumper. This was outfit two of the meagre three I had space to pack, and I committed to asking about running a wash seeing as I thought it ruder to hand wash my belongings and leave them dripping away in the shared bathroom. Then I wandered downstairs, slipped on my boots and exited the house into the continuing snow.

My mobile was still off, the music on it lost to me for now, but I had an MP3 player I used when I was prevented from having my phone with me at university, and while my collection was incomplete, it was sufficient.

Crunching along the path towards the water, snow building up on my boots but thankfully not deep enough to spill over the top, I drew in a deep lungful of fresh air.

Everything was pretty much fucked. And worst of all was that I now had several weeks to think about the worst-case outcome before I could speak with Mr Personality – Christian – again.

Sucking in another huge breath I pushed the earphones into my ears and began playing the songs on shuffle. I didn’t need anything in particular, just something.

The cold bit at my nose, the jumper thick but insufficient, after a short while the chill bled through. Now, however, I enjoyed it. It was a choice for me today, a chance to feel something other than bloody despair.

Cold becoming bone deep once again, the thought crossed my mind to return to the house when I felt the hairs on my neck lifting.

Alex and Ben weren’t back, the snowmobiles I’d seen by the barn still missing and there was no-one else here.

A hand landed on my shoulder, startling me.

Without hesitation I reached over my shoulder, grabbing the wrist of whoever stood behind me, dropping as I yanked them forwards. They flew over my head, landing heavily, the snow breaking their fall before they curled upwards.

Jamming my knee onto their stomach and hands to their shoulders I pushed them back down into the snow.

My earphones pulled from my ear at the quick movement and the man beneath me groaned loudly, halting his resistance to the pressure I was bearing down onto him.

Then his groan slowly transformed into a wide grin, green eyes twinkling from under a heavy parka hood, completely disarming me.

Gradually my fear and adrenaline peaked, and the sharp pain of my tattered, bruised knees roared to the front of my awareness.

“Holy fuck, my knees!” I groaned as the man let out a full laugh, jostling where my one injured knee still bore down into his chest.

I released the pressure marginally, predominantly to ease the pain in the joint, but in part because I suspected the chuckling man below me was not the threat I initially assumed.

His laughter slowed, his smile widening until dimples popped each side.

“Well… hello, Killer.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

ISABELLE

Iblinked down at him. He shifted under my knee and I gritted my teeth.

“While I normally have absolutely no issue being pinned beneath a beautiful woman, any chance you could let me up? It’s bloody cold.”

Rising quickly, I stepped back, but thinking better of my hasty retreat, I offered my hand to the stranger.

He clearly had no idea who I was and I had just thrown him onto the ground and had a real good go at his sternum with my kneecap. Hopefully that coat was thick.

Accepting the hand with another quick grin, he stood, barely pulling any weight through me, and brushed himself off.

“Good job I was already covered in snow, eh?” He flashed his dimples and I felt a smile forming back.

Isabelle! I scolded myself, creating distance between our bodies when I gently withdrew my hand.

“So, Killer, a couple of questions.”