Read Mountain Wild (Harlequin Historical Series) for Free Online Page B

the blanket around his waist as he stood. The quick movement made him light-headed and wafted him with the scent of spring flowers, reminding him that whoever lived here had done more than simply tend his fever. He’d been bathed.
    He moved toward the door, each step a slow stretch of tense muscles. The way his head and body ached, he could have been struck by lightning. Maybe Duce had found him and brought him to this place.
    Spotting his boots tucked beneath the small table beside the rickety door, he pulled them out and stepped into the tall leather shafts. His clothes were nowhere in sight. Surely he’d been fully dressed when he’d arrived. He scanned three large barrels stacked on top of the other in the far corner and a large chest at the foot of the bed. He was tempted to search their contents for his britches. A pinch in his bladder urged him to search out a privy first. After he relieved himself, he’d find whoever had taken his clothes and his dog and demand some answers.
    He pulled open the door and had to shield his face from a flurry of snowflakes. Cold wind buffeted against his bare chest, sending an instant chill shivering across his skin. He stared gap-jawed at the snow piled some three feet high on either side of the door, a path having been recently shoveled.
    “What the hell?”
    Through the haze of swirling flakes tall timbers reachedtoward a gray sky. White-topped mountain peaks rose up from all sides.
    He was in the high country. He wouldn’t have ridden into these snow-packed mountains.
    A familiar bark echoed over the rush of wind and Garret stepped into the brisk cold. “Boots!”
    Snow burst from the embankment up ahead as his dog bounded onto the shoveled path. Garret grinned, relieved to see his shaggy friend.
    “Hey, boy,” he said, reaching down to pat his furry head while keeping his gaze on movement near the end of the path. He narrowed his eyes, trying to peer through the falling snow as the stranger drew near. The small form slowly emerged through the flurry of flakes, a white hooded coat blending with the winter landscape. He couldn’t make out more than a faint outline and a shotgun clutched in the left hand.
    Caution tensed his muscles as the stranger drew close.
    Mad Mag was the first thought to his mind, until she looked up. The deep blue eyes and delicate, feminine features lurking beneath that hood stole his breath.
    She’s real. The passionate woman from his dream.
    “You should be inside.”
    Her voice was low, husky, and flooded his mind with the sounds of breathy moans, the image of her rose-tipped breast straining toward his mouth.
    “Move.”
    Her harsh tone and stern gaze jarred him from the tantalizing vision. He stepped back, allowing her to rush him through the doorway. She quickly shut out the wind and wisps of snow.
    “Go lay down.” She pointed toward the far wall, her stern tone commanding as she stared him right in the eyes.
    Maybe this bitty thing had clubbed him over the head and dragged him to her bed. Shock rippled through him…along with an undeniable stir of attraction.
    Boots brushed his leg on his way to the corner, and Garret realized she was talking to his dog, not him. He scrubbed a hand over his stubble-coated jaw. He obviously wasn’t working with a full deck. His brain struggled to take hold of the notion that his dream lover stood before him. He stared at her, his mind lost somewhere between reality and a really good dream.
    She propped her gun beside the door and glanced briefly at the floor. Her supple pink lips pressed to a firm line as her gaze moved over puddles of melting snow. He’d left the door wide-open.
    “Sorry about that.”
    Sharp blue eyes narrowed, her expression bordering on lethal. Not quite the passionate woman from his memory— his dreams, he silently amended. He eased back toward the warmth of the stove, his instincts warning him not to crowd the little filly. Her soft, delicate features were a clear contradiction