Chapter One

Natalie

I never used to believe that a vacation could change a person’s entire life, but now I’m thinking it might be true after all. As I paddle down a river in Wyoming, gazing at the bluest blue sky and the lushest forest I have ever seen, I can’t help smiling. This is freedom. My life back home in Indiana? Nope, I will not think about that. I have two weeks to rinse the grime out of my soul.

Can I wash the memories out of my mind, though?

I feel a slight chill that slithers over my skin. No, I refuse to think about the reasons why I needed to escape to Wyoming. So I focus on paddling my kayak and enjoying the scenery. I’ve never before seen snowcapped mountains this tall or a landscape as beautiful as in this region. Birds chirp in the trees and fly past me way above my head. The air even smells better here. Maybe I’ll never leave this place.

An oddly shaped rock catches my attention. The large slab lies in the river but with its surface above the water. It’s kind of lumpy. Weird. Then the lumpiness moves. Okay, that’s not just a rock. I grab my binoculars to focus in on the mystery creature. And I blink several times, sure I must be hallucinating. That can’t be…a naked man. I look again, and yep, it’s definitely a big muscular man with long, wild hair and a thick, bushy beard.

Uh, what? A naked man? Am I dreaming?

No, I don’t think so. What if he’s some kind of psycho? My safest option seems to be to avoid that man. I could use a break, anyway, so I might as well find a good place to pull over onto the shore and wait for the stranger to leave.

Up ahead, the river curves gently. The shore there offers a nice spot where I could beach my kayak and enjoy the lunch I brought with me. Hopefully, the nudist will have left by the time I’m done eating. So I steer myself toward the shore and manage to climb out of the kayak, then tug it up onto the relatively flat ground here. I close my eyes and inhale a deep breath full of sweet, clean air.

My nose wrinkles. Is that poop I smell? Yech.

I tiptoe around this little flat area, searching for the source of that stinky odor so I won’t accidentally sit down on it. But I don’t find anything. When I bend over to pick up a fallen twig, just to make sure it’s not hiding the poop, I lose my balance and careen into a tree.

A crack reverberates overhead.

Tipping my head back, I hold a hand above my eyes to shield them from the sunlight and try to figure out what made that noise. At first, I see nothing. Then I spot the culprit. A thick tree branch dangles high above me, seeming to be held up only by another branch. I back away slowly, like I’m worried my footsteps might dislodge that thing. Oh, please. What are the odds that will happen? I’ve gotten so paranoid, though for good reason.

When I try to turn around, I trip and fall to the ground flat on my back. A grunt bursts out of me.

And that branch suddenly breaks free.

I lie here frozen in place as I watch the branch tumble down, down, down. The thing smacks onto my thighs. Pain ricochets through my legs.

And I scream.

Once the initial burst of pain subsides, I try to catch my breath and reassemble my wits. I can’t get myself free no matter how much I wriggle and try to push the branch off me. Oh shit, is this how I’ll die? Alone in the woods where no one will ever find me? Bears will probably come along and crush my skull with their gigantic jaws just so they can eat me.

Like hell.

I pull in a big breath and scream, “Help! Please help, I’m trapped!”

What are the odds anyone else is within earshot? For my wilderness adventure, I’d chosen a remote river, the name of which I don’t even know. My cell phone doesn’t work out here. I’d already determined that while paddling down the river. Oh God, I am going to die. Slowly. Painfully. Dehydration will hit me before starvation, or so I read in a book once, years ago. Unless the wildlife gets me. Bears? Cougars? Not sure which will devour me first.

“I’m coming!” someone hollers.

I hear a loud splash that originates from further down the river. Then I hear smaller splashes, as if someone is swimming this way.

Do bears know how to swim? But those animals don’t talk and definitely can’t shout “I’m coming.” My pulse pounds in my ears, and my heart thuds in my chest. I can see the river from here, sort of, but I can’t tell what type of wild beast might be heading this way. Please, please, don’t let me die this way. Then I amend my plea. Whoever is up there watching, please don’t let me die, period, okay?

A figure erupts out of the river. Water sluices off the naked man’s body as he stalks up to me.

The muscular guy who just halted a few feet away stares down at me with water pouring down from his long, dark hair and bushy beard. His chest heaves. But those aren’t the things about him that capture my focus. No, I only glance at the rest of him because I can’t stop gaping at his dick. This must be the man I saw lying on a large rock slab.

My savior hoists the branch off me and tosses it away like it’s nothing but a toy.

“Oh God, thank you,” I say. “You saved my life.”

“Are you injured?”

“Don’t think so.” When I start to sit up, he crouches to offer me his hands to pull me into a sitting position. That means I get a close-up view of his blue eyes. When I run my hands over myself, I’m relieved to find no broken bones. “Everything feels okay.”

“Good. What were ye doing here?”

“Kayaking. This looked like a pretty spot to take a break.”

He speaks with some kind of accent, but I can’t quite place it.

My scruffy savior rises from his crouch, unfurling his body to its full height. “Since you’re all right, I’ll be on my way.”

I can’t stop myself from staring at him. I mean, the guy is completely naked—in the woods. What if he’s a pervert? Some kind of sicko who wants to sneak up on me while I’m trying to get back into my kayak, then kidnap me to his underground bunker where he tortures women. Maybe I should stop ogling his dick if I don’t want him to abduct and murder me. But I can’t help it. I’ve never been saved by a naked man before. Though I keep averting my eyes, they keep forcing me to look at his manly parts. Yeah, that’s right. It is totally not my fault.

Finally, I scramble to my feet and dust myself off. Then I avoid looking at the man while I speak to him. “Um, why are you…naked?”

“Does it matter?” he growls. “My lifestyle choices are my business.”

“Uh-huh.” I bite my lip as if that will stop me from gaping at his groin. “Well, thank you. For helping me. Think I’d better get going.”

I try to make a suave exit from this bizarre situation, but I stumble over a small rock. Luckily, I don’t fall down. As I hiss “damn” under my breath, I shuffle over to the kayak and attempt to climb in. But I slip again. Jeez, when did I become a klutz? I blame the naked guy hovering behind me. I can’t keep a calm demeanor with a muscular bear-man mere feet away.

Then I notice I’ve kicked my kayak away and it’s now sliding off the riverbank into the water. Before I can even try to grab it, the kayak gets swept away in the current.

“No, no, no!” I cry out while I helplessly watch my only means of transportation float away.

I flail my arms in a desperate attempt to snag the kayak. But I slip again, teetering on the edge of the riverbank. My heart pounds hard enough to make me woozy.

Thick arms lash around me, and suddenly, I find myself pinned to the naked stranger. Face to face. Unable to break free. Did I try to get free? Not really. I’m staring at his pecs, though not because I want to do that. He’s so freaking tall, compared to me, that I can’t stare at anything else but his chest.

At last, I summon enough wherewithal to wriggle and try to escape his hold. It doesn’t work. “You can let me go now.”

He takes a single step away from me and points over his shoulder. “Follow the game trail until you reach the hollowed-out tree. Then turn east—”

“I don’t know which way is east. Can’t you take me where I need to go?”

“Which is where?”

“The campground.” I really, really hope there’s only one of those around here since I can’t remember the name of that place.

“It’s too far to walk.”

“Don’t you have a car?”

“The transmission is shot. I’m waiting for a friend to bring me a new one.”

I feel my forehead tightening. “You’re way out here alone with no car? What about a phone? Can you take me to one of those?”

“The only phone anywhere nearby is at my house.”

“Okay. Please take me there so I can call someone to pick me up.”

The man growls low in his throat, like a freaking wild beast. “Come with me. But you will wait outside after you make your call.”

“Where are you from? You sound Irish or something.”

He clenches his fists, and his jaw too, I think. “I am Scottish, not Irish. Now haud yer wheesht and follow me.”

“Um, what does that mean? Hide my wish?”

“Haud yer wheesht. It means—Never mind. Just be quiet.”

“Do you live out here alone?”

“Stop talking,” he snarls through gritted teeth.

I hustle to catch up with him, but I only do that because I have no choice. This man has a phone, which I can use to call for help. Uh, who will I call? I don’t know anybody in Wyoming.

A solo wilderness vacation? What a fantastic idea, Natalie. You are a fucking idiot.

“Where exactly are we?” I ask. “I mean, I know what river that was. But the mountains must have a name too. Are there grizzly bears here? Maybe that’s only in Alaska. No, wait, that’s Kodiak bears. Right? Probably are grizzlies in Wyoming.”

Shut up, you moron. And why did I say I know what river that was? I haven’t got a frigging clue. I guess I was subconsciously trying to present the impression that I’m not a yokel who has never visited the wilderness before except on short Girl Scout trips when I was a kid.

God, I hope this guy isn’t a psycho.

Because I so do not want to die alone in the woods and get eaten by a cannibal.

Chapter Two

Munro

I refuse to glance at the bloody annoying woman while we trudge down ever narrower trails, headed toward my cabin. This hike will take longer than it should because I never go this way unless I’ve been hunting or fishing somewhere further upriver. Now I’m stuck with this irritating, beautiful lass for who knows how long.

Not that her looks matter. I will never shag this woman. She would probably tell me that I’m doing it wrong. Aye, she seems like the sort who would complain about that.

“Wait! You’re walking too fast.”

The woman’s voice makes me stop and glance around to find her. She’s not beside me anymore. What has that lass done now? I spin around, expecting to see her hanging from a tree branch or lying in a pile of bear shit. But she isn’t doing any of those things. She’s rushing to catch up to me, breathing so hard that her breasts rise and fall swiftly.

Bod an Donais. The lass might be annoying, but she has a body that makes me want to fuck her right here in the woods.

“Slow down,” she gasps. “Please, I can’t walk that fast. My legs are shorter than yours.”

I flap my hand, a clear sign she should hurry up.

But the lass just squints at me with her mouth gaping.

So I flap my hand again. “Get your erse moving, woman. I want to be home before sundown.”

“It’s barely afternoon, right?”

Aye, it is. But I won’t give her the satisfaction of knowing for certain that she’s right. I live in the middle of nowhere in Wyoming because I want my peace and quiet.

“A Dhia,” I hiss. “Greas ort, Ruaidh.”

She stares at me blankly. “What did you just say? Are you having a stroke or something?”

“No, I’m speaking Scots Gaelic.” I stalk up to her and grab the lass’s wrist to drag her along with me down the trail.

“What did those words mean?”

I grunt instead of explaining. No, I won’t tell her that I said “oh God, hurry up, Red.” It sounds bloody stupid in English. But she does have bonnie red hair that complements her bonnie amber eyes. What I can see of her figure, cloaked in her hiking gear, is enough to make my mouth water. But no, I will not have a poke with the lass. She would probably haver the entire time. I wouldn’t mind if she wanted to shout about how good I am while we fuck, but she would most likely complain instead. Aye, she seems like that sort.

She stabs a finger into my upper arm. “Tell me what you just said. Was it an insult?”

Instead of answering her question, I grunt again. Then I resume trudging through the woods.

“Do you even know where you’re going?” she asks as she comes up beside me.

“Aye.” I flash her a dark look. “That means ‘yes.’ I know every inch of this landscape.”

“You still haven’t explained why you’re naked.”

“Because I disrobed.”

She huffs. “That is not an answer.”

“It’s all the answer I plan on giving.”

When she opens her mouth again, I shoot her an even darker look. “Haud yer wheesht, woman.”

“My name is not ‘woman.’ It’s Natalie Saari.” She lifts her chin even while she struggles to keep up with my swift pace. “It’s rude to use weird Scottish terms that I don’t understand. Maybe you’re doing that so I won’t realize you plan on holding me hostage in your basement so you can torture me.”

“Dinnae be ridiculous.”

“But I told you my name, and you haven’t told me yours.”

I blow out a sigh. The lass will not leave me be, which means I have no choice. “I’m Munro MacTaggart.”

“That’s a cool name.”

“So glad you approve of the name given to me by my parents.” All right, my tone might have dripped with sarcasm. I make no excuses for that. But when she seems about to speak again, I decide to make a preemptive statement in the desperate hope she’ll shut up if I give her a wee bit of information. “I’m naked because I was bathing in the river. This is a remote area, and I dinnae like wearing a swimsuit.”

“Thank you for explaining. See? Conversation isn’t as difficult as you made it.”

I might have just growled at her. “I like my privacy, so dinnae expect me to blether with you.”

“Does ‘blether’ mean to have a conversation?”

“No, it means ye talk incessantly. Blethering is right next to havering, but that mainly refers to talking nonsense.”

She seems confused, but fortunately, she doesn’t press me for a longer explanation. We proceed in relative silence, which means she makes wee huffing noises occasionally but doesn’t actually speak. Since I never use a watch or carry a mobile phone with me, I have no concrete idea of how long we’ve been walking, though I’m sure it’s been more than twenty minutes.

Natalie begins to slow her pace.

“Keep up,” I say. “You’ll get lost if you lose sight of me.”

She’s breathing hard and bends over to set her hands on her thighs. “Need—a break. Please.”

I grumble out a sigh. “Have your break—for a few minutes. But we need to get moving again soon.”

“What’s the rush?”

“Getting you out of my hair, that’s what.” I sit down on the bare earth. “Rest your erse, Natalie.”

“I guess that means ‘sit down’, huh?” She drops onto the ground and slumps against a small tree. With a pitiful moan, she closes her eyes. “Could I have ten minutes to rest?”

She’s clearly exhausted. Bloody hell. We still have a ways to go to reach my cabin, but she seems unlikely to make it there without an extended period of rest.

“When did you last eat?” I ask. “Or drink something other than water.”

“I had a protein bar an hour ago.”

“And before that?”

She peeks at me through her half-closed eyes. “I ate a couple oat bars and drank some coffee.”

I shake my head. “No wonder you’re running out of energy. All that silly health food rubbish won’t keep you going in the wild.” I study her for a moment. “Have you ever kayaked before?”

She bites her lip and wriggles her erse. “I read all about it.”

“Reading is not the same as knowing. An inexperienced person should never go into the wilds alone.”

“Are you an expert on that stuff?”

“I used to be a river guide in the Grand Canyon. So aye, I know a wee bit about survival skills.” I suddenly realize something. “Why don’t you have a backpack?”

She winces. “I left it in my kayak.”

The lass is exhausted and ill-equipped for the wilds. What am I meant to do with her? She can’t hike the rest of the way to my cabin, not when she’s eaten only light, so-called healthy snacks. I need to get her to my home quickly. And that leaves me with only one option.

I rise and pick her up, cradling the lass in my arms.

Her eyes go wide. “What are you doing?”

“Providing transportation.”

I jog down the trail, dodging minor obstacles and making the necessary turns to reach our destination. Though I begin to sweat, that doesn’t bother me. I’ve hiked the Grand Canyon, after all, while being pursued by villains. Finally, we emerge from the woods into a small clearing. My cabin lies in the center of it.

At the porch steps, I stop and set the lass down.

Her eyes are almost bulging. “That was amazing. You ran through the woods while carrying me.”

I shrug.

She stares at me, incredulous.

Though I can handle carrying someone that way—I’ve done it before as a river guide—I’ll need a few moments to recover. So instead of speaking, I wave for Natalie to follow me into the house. Then I gesture for her to sit on the small sofa. The most miraculous part of this experience is that she finally has stopped asking me questions.

I grab a towel from the bathroom and wipe off the sweat, then hunt through a pile of clothes I’d left on the floor until I find what I need. Now that I’m dressed, I return to the sofa and drop onto the end opposite Natalie.

She turns toward me slightly. “What’s the name of that river out there?”

“You know the name. That’s what you told me.”

“Um, I kind of fibbed.” She winces. “Didn’t want to seem like a complete moron.”

I bite back a caustic retort, though I can’t fathom why I care if she feels insulted. “It’s called Anonymous River.”

“Seriously?” she says with a wee laugh. “Whoever named it was too lazy to come up with a real name, huh?”

I clench my jaw. “Anonymous River is the real name.”

“Oh, I get it.”

“So glad you finally grasped the concept.” I narrow my gaze on her. “Dinnae have trendy food. If you’re a vegan or prefer some other type of silly rubbish, you’ll need to adapt.”

“To what?”

“Real, protein-rich food.”

“What does that mean?”

Maybe I shouldn’t do it, but I can’t resist playing a wee trick on her. So I lean forward, nailing my gaze to hers. “Insects provide the best protein. I can go outside and gather some crickets, maybe a few worms. If we’re lucky, I’ll catch a frog that I can cook over the fireplace spit.”

She stares at me.

I lean toward her even more. “How do ye feel about maggots?”

Her lips pucker. Her gaze narrows. Then she slants toward me and…slaps me in the face. “Are all Scottish people total jackasses?”

“No insects, eh? I thought you were an outdoors enthusiast.”

“I don’t believe for one second that you eat bugs. Not unless you’re lying injured in the woods and maggots are the only available food option.” She jabs her finger into my chest. “Your hospitality needs a lot of work.”

“Hospitality? Never had any of that. There’s a reason everyone who knows me calls me ‘Wild Man.’ Dinnae give a fuck about social graces.”

She snorts. “No shit.”

“Do ye want food or not? I have red meat and butter, among other politically incorrect dietary selections.”

“Whatever you’ve got, I’ll eat.” She wrinkles her nose. “As long as it’s not bugs.”

“All right.” I leap off the sofa and race into the open kitchen.

“Um, where is the TV?”

“Dinnae have one.”

“What do you do for entertainment?”

I give her a devilish smile. “I was naked when we met. What do you think I like to do for fun?”

“We are not having sex.”

“I meant skinny dipping.” I wag a finger at her while clucking my tongue. “Ye have a filthy mind, Natalie.”

But aye, I would love to shag her.