Master of the Mountain

about.”

Before she could think of anything to say, he tugged on a loose stand of hair and left the kitchen.

Chapter Five

“I won't take you home.” Matt ran the razor across his chin, staring at himself in the steamed-up mirror in their cabin bathroom.

She'd finally run him to ground after breakfast, and now he didn't even look at her. Rebecca scowled and crossed her arms over her chest. “Matthew, I won't-”

“Sorry, babe,” he interrupted. “But I've been looking forward to this vacation with the club for months. I'm not going to ruin it because you're too uptight to enjoy yourself.”

“I'm not uptight,” she said in a thin voice. “I just don't like strangers groping me. And I'm sorry. Coming here was a mistake.”

“Not my mistake,” he pointed out. He splashed water on his face to remove the shaving cream. “You can take the car if you want; I'll catch a ride with someone.”

“I don't know how to drive a stick shift.”

“Oh. I forgot. Well, then, I guess you're stuck until Wednesday.” Turning, he said, “Logan's brother is taking some people to see the falls in Yosemite this afternoon. You said you wanted to see the place.”

“I do.” She clenched her hands so tight, her knuckles cracked. “Will you at least give me the cabin to myself? You can move in with one of the others.”

“No.” He patted his face dry. “We've found it works better if the men stay in the cabins, and the women wander around. Unless someone wants a free-for-all, and then we use the lodge room. So I need the cabin. But you're welcome to use it too. A couple of the women really enjoy threesomes.”

Right. “That won't work for me, Matt.”

He gave an exaggerated sigh. “Look, it's not my problem, but I'll talk with Logan and see if he has an empty cabin. I doubt it, but I'll ask.”

“Thanks.” Don't overexert yourself. She gave him a stiff nod and left. Matt might as well talk with Logan; if she asked for a cabin, she'd all too likely end up in his bed-again. She frowned. Last night hadn't been exactly her decision, and they hadn't done that much…really…but a second time would mean real sex. She pressed a hand over her stomach where her supposedly nonexistent libido turned a few somersaults. Damn.

Matt might be comfortable messing around with different lovers, but she wasn't. If she went to bed with Logan-as in making love-then it basically meant she considered her relationship with Matt over. She stopped and leaned against a tree, frowning. Could she ever get past seeing Matt with Ashley?

But they'd been so right together, and he'd said as much.

But would he be willing to quit the swinging club? Doubtful, Rebecca, doubtful. Where did that leave her? Breaking up and breaking the lease and being single. Alone.

Her breath shuddered through her, and then she tightened her lips. Life was what it was, and she had to face facts. A monogamous woman didn't belong with a man who wanted a variety pack of women. She sighed. What did that say about her inadequacies that he had to go messing around with other women? Sure, she could tell herself he just liked to swing, but that didn't help the underlying feeling that she didn't measure up. Too big, too boring.

With a sigh, she headed down the trail toward the lodge. Walking around a curve, she stopped dead. The dog stared at her from the center of the trail. Oh God, oh God. She took a step back, but it advanced on her. Its ears were back.

As it got within a foot, her heart pounded so violently, she thought she'd throw up. Don't run. Running made them jump on you and rip at you and…

It sniffed her jeans. She couldn't quite stifle the whimper, and it looked up at her, growling.

“Thor.” Logan stood at the bend in the trail. “Come here.”

Relief rushed through her and made her breath hitch. Yet she couldn't move.

Giving one last growl, the dog trotted back to its owner.

Logan reached Rebecca just as her legs crumpled. He caught her, his hands firm around her waist. “Easy there.” He scooped her up in his arms, sat on a downed log at the trail's edge, and cradled her as easily as if she were a toddler. As his scent surrounded her, she managed to draw in a breath and then couldn't seem to get enough air.

Safe. She was safe.

Without speaking, he held her as she shuddered, as she burrowed closer into his arms, as her gasping slowed. After a while, she realized he was stroking her back, not fake reassuring pats, but long sweeps of his hand, warm and firm. Her breathing slowly changed to match the rhythm.

Finally, when she couldn't put it off any longer, she moved, trying to ignore the flush of humiliation. What an idiot she'd made of herself. Last night and now.

His arms loosened, and she sat up. “Thank you, Logan.” She braced herself and looked him in the face, expecting pity. Maybe even some disgust.

His expression held only sympathy. And curiosity. “Thor is intimidating, I know, but I've never seen someone quite so frightened of him. Why?”

She slid off onto the log to sit beside him before spotting the dog standing a few feet away. She barely managed not to crawl back into Logan's lap. Why wouldn't it leave?

Callused fingers took her chin and tilted her face up, forcing her eyes from the dog. Thoughtfully, he studied her. “Why are you so scared of dogs?”

She did not want to remember any of it. Never. Forget talking about it. She tried to shake her head. God knew her voice wouldn't work right.

He didn't release her. His voice deepened. “Becca, answer me.”

“One b-bit me.”

“Keep going, sugar. I can tell there's more to it than that. When did it happen?”

“When I was ten.” Under his level gaze, words spilled out of her, ugly memories she hadn't been able to share with anyone. “Skateboarding in the park and a dog…” The memory of the dog blanked her mind. Her hands fisted, and she jerked her gaze away.

“No, look at me.”

When her eyes turned back to his, he stroked his warm hands up and down her arms.

“Tell me more. Was the dog big?”

She shuddered, remembering how it had come toward her, growling, teeth bared, the hair on its back up like the dog here. The dog. Where was Thor? She turned.

Logan cupped his hand around her chin. “Look at me, sugar. Big dog?”

She nodded and found her voice worked. Mostly. “Big.” There were no words for the size of it. “It came at me, growling, and I tried to run away.”

He winced.

“Yeah. The doctor said I shouldn't have run. But it was going to attack me anyway.”

“Got it.” He let go of her face and picked her up, setting her back on his lap. Without speaking, he held her against him. His arms around her were powerful, his chest solid. Nothing could get to her. She buried her head in his shoulder and sighed.

“Keep going. Get it all out,” he said. “You ran. Then what?”

“It attacked, got hold of one of my legs. I fell.” Her head had cracked against the concrete, and pain had been everywhere, striking over and over. “It… I would have died, except I screamed. A man had a baseball bat.”

“God, sweetheart.” Logan's arms tightened. “You were just a baby.”

“They sewed me up as good as they could, but”-she shrugged-“I have scars.” She could hear her classmates taunting, “Ugly, ugly, ugly.”

“Well, I'll take a closer look at them later,” he said.