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“Yeah,” he says calmly. “I do.”

I should argue harder.

I should tell him exactly where to shove his possessive mountain-man routine.

Instead, my pulse jumps when his hand settles lightly against my lower back.

Protective.

Possessive.

Certain.

And the worst part?

For the first time since those photographs hit the screen, I actually feel safe.

Which is dangerous all by itself.

Chapter Four

Rhett

The second we pull up to Nora’s rental cabin, I know something’s wrong.

The porch light is off.

It wasn’t off earlier.

I kill the engine anyway, my eyes already scanning the tree line, the road, the dark stretch of woods surrounding the property. The storm moved in fast over the last thirty minutes rain pelting my windshield, thick clouds swallowing the mountain whole, and now the wind’s starting to bite hard enough to turn dangerous before midnight.

Nora reaches for the door handle beside me. “I can explain the auction thing later, by the way. In case you’re under the impression I enjoyed being publicly purchased like livestock.”

“Stay in the truck.”

Her head snaps toward me instantly. “Excuse me?”

I’m already opening my door. “Lock it behind me.”

“Oh, absolutely not.”

I shut the truck door and circle around anyway, my boots crunching over the gravel. The cabin sits too still in the dark, every instinct I’ve got pulling tight.

Wrong.

The front door hangs open barely half an inch.

Not enough for most people to notice.

Enough for me.

Nora sees it the second she climbs out of the truck behind me.

“Oh my God.”

Her voice goes quieter.

Tighter.