One Bride for Five Mountain Men

“Killian,” Jake answers absentmindedly as he inspects me, making sure that I didn’t receive more injuries during the trip. “He thinks the nickname makes him sound like a badass. I think it makes him sound like a douche.”

“Oh, it’s not the worst nickname I ever heard.”

“It’s not?” Jake quirks an eyebrow at me. “How could there be a worse nickname?”

“I went to high school with a guy we all called Nutsack. That was pretty bad.”

“Yeah, okay, that’s pretty bad,” Jake chuckles. “I hate to ask this, but can I just carry you? We might have crutches somewhere in the cellar, or I can get to—”

“That would be fine,” I interrupt him, smiling. In the low light of the foyer, I’m struck by his size again. He’s not even winded, not after that long trek dragging me up the hill. It doesn’t seem to have fazed him at all.

A smile curls his cheek, and I see the resemblance between him and the twins. Without breaking my gaze, he leans down and lifts me into the air, cradling me against his chest.

“If you keep letting me carry you around like this, I’m never going to want to stop,” he murmurs as he strides from the room, taking stairs two at a time.

I just nuzzle closer to him and smile, feeling a warm glow spread through me of safety and something that almost feels like happiness.

Chapter 10

Carty

Jake comes into the study, holding her across his body like he just saved her from a forest fire, like he just discovered her floating on a river or something.

I tap the nondisclosure agreement with my fingers and glance at Timothy, who merely shrugs helplessly.

She’s wearing a thin nylon shirt and pink ski pants. One dainty foot kicks out, while the other is wrapped tightly in an elastic bandage. She smiles charmingly as she holds onto my brother’s neck.

“Everybody, this is Lola,” Jake grumbles, but I can hear the pride in his voice.

“I can see that,” I say, noting that she looks just like her picture. Long, wavy red hair, almond-shaped green eyes. Slender and beautiful. Basically the perfect picture of sultry journalist.

“I’m Timothy,” Tim calls out optimistically.

“That’s Cartman… Carty,” I hear Jake say as he sits her down on the leather sofa. Everybody gathers around her like puppies inspecting the new littermate. She smiles sweetly at each of us, nodding pleasantly.

Holding the nondisclosure agreement in front of me, I walked toward the sofa with a pen.

“You can have your attorney read it over, if you like,” I offer politely. “But basically it is simply an agreement between you and all of us… You won’t say that you found us, that you know where we are, or that any of this happened. You’ll stick to the cover story as written: you went skiing, you fell, a transient hunter found you and then gave you his unregistered snowmobile so you could make your way back to your friends. Very simple. No tricks, nothing complicated.”

She glances up at me, blinking.

“No, I don’t want to do that,” she says softly.

Jake shrugs in my direction, grinning.

“Seriously?” I mutter. “Lola, we can offer you a settlement, if that’s what you’re driving at. Really, there’s no reason to be difficult. We just need to get this paperwork out of the way and then we can have someone fly you back to your hotel.”

“Me,” Timothy pipes in helpfully. “I fly the helicopter. And the jet, if it comes to that.”

She leans back on the sofa, draping her arms across the leather. Her hair tips to one side as she surveys me intently. I get the feeling she’s measuring me with her eyes.

“How much is the settlement?” she asks in an amused voice.

“I was thinking about five hundred thousand? That should be enough, I believe.”

She presses her lips together, wetting them with the tip of her tongue. Liam and Kill stare, enchanted.

“How about two million?”