Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 35133 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 176(@200wpm)___ 141(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35133 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 176(@200wpm)___ 141(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
The door creaks as he pushes it open, stepping inside. I follow, my boots sharp against the wood floor, the space smaller than I expected, warmer too.
“Rules,” he says, turning to face me.
I fold my arms. “Of course there are.”
He steps closer again, and this time I feel it immediately, the shift, the way the air changes.
“You don’t leave without me.”
My jaw tightens.
“You don’t open that door unless I tell you to.”
My fingers curl against my arms.
“And you don’t lie to me again.”
That one hits.
“You don’t get to—”
“I do,” he cuts in, his voice low. “Because you’ll be my wife, and if I don’t have the full picture, I can’t protect you.”
Silence settles between us, thick and heavy.
“Fine,” I say finally. “But this goes both ways.”
His brow lifts slightly. “Oh?”
“You don’t get to hover,” I say. “Or bark orders. Or whatever this is.” I gesture between us. “You don’t get to control me.”
He steps closer again, and my breath stutters before I can stop it.
“Then stop giving me reasons to.”
For the first time since I got here, I don’t have a response.
And that is what scares me the most.
Chapter 5
Maddie
The cabin smells like cedar and heat.
Like him.
I stand just inside the doorway, arms crossed, watching Ethan move like he owns every inch of space—which, apparently, he does.
He doesn’t look back at me right away. Just shrugs out of his jacket, sets it on the back of a chair, moves toward the counter like I’m already accounted for. Like me being here is a done deal. The moment I saw him I wondered why he’d posted an ad for a bride, but now I know. He’s controlling, detached, downright bossy and rubs me all the wrong ways. And maybe a few of the right ones.
“You always this… welcoming?” I ask.
His mouth twitches, but he doesn’t turn. “You always this difficult?”
“I don’t like being told what to do.”
“Then you picked the wrong place to run to.”
I push off the door, boots thudding against the floor as I step farther inside. “I didn’t run.”
That gets his attention. He turns slowly, eyes dragging over me in a way that feels like a hand—heavy, deliberate, impossible to ignore.
“You showed up on my mountain scared and alone, offering to be my bride,” he says. “Call it whatever you want.”
My spine stiffens. “I’m handling it.”
“Yeah?” he murmurs. “That what you call finding photos of yourself left outside your door?”
I hate that he knows that. I hate that it still makes my stomach twist.
“I had a plan,” I say.
His brow lifts. “Yeah? What was it?”
I open my mouth. Nothing comes out. Because I don’t have one. Not a real one.
His gaze sharpens, like he’s watching the realization land in real time.
“Thought so,” he says.
I step closer, refusing to let him have the upper hand that easily. “I didn’t come here to be talked down to.”
“And I didn’t invite you here to play games.”
We’re closer now. Too close.
The air shifts—tight, charged, like something’s about to snap.
“Then maybe you should’ve said no,” I fire back.
His eyes darken.
“Not how this works.”
“Oh?” I tilt my head. “And how does it work, exactly?”
He takes a step toward me.
Just one. But it’s enough.
Enough that I have to fight the instinct to step back.
“You come onto my land,” he says, voice dropping, “you follow my rules.”
I let out a short laugh. “That’s not how real life works, Ranger.”
Another step.
Now there’s nowhere to go unless I move.
I don’t.
“You think this is real life?” he asks quietly.
My breath catches.
Damn him.
“Feels real enough to me,” I say.
“Someone’s tracking you,” he says, voice flat now. “Watching you. Getting close enough to leave things behind.”
I hold his gaze. “I know.”
“Then stop acting like you’re in control.”
“I am in control,” I snap.
His jaw ticks.
And then he closes the distance.
One step.
Two.
Until he’s right there.
Close enough that I feel the heat of him, the weight of his presence pressing in on all sides.
“Then stop acting like prey.”
The words hit low.
Hard.
My pulse jumps, heat flaring through me—anger, adrenaline… something sharper.
“I’m not prey,” I bite out.
His gaze drops slowly.
To my mouth.
Then back up.
“Then prove it.”
My fingers curl at my sides. God, he’s infuriating.
“You don’t get to talk to me like that,” I say, but my voice isn’t as steady as I want it to be.
“Like what?”
“Like I’m—” I gesture between us, frustration boiling over. “Like I belong to you.”
Silence. A long, heavy beat.
Then his expression shifts.
Subtle.
Dangerous.
“You don’t,” he says.
Relief flickers because he’s not done.
“Not yet.”
My breath stutters. Heat floods my chest, sharp and confusing.
“That’s not funny,” I snap.
“I’m not joking.”
Of course he’s not.
I step back this time, breaking the space between us before I do something stupid—like lean into him instead of away.
“I’m not staying here under your control,” I say.
“You already are.”
“No,” I shake my head.
“Yes. That’s the deal. Be my bride. Be protected.”
“Temporary. This is just temporary until I figure this out.”