Once Upon a Time in Bliss

Chapter Two

“What did you say to my mom?”

He didn’t look back, merely expected Nell to follow. It was time to start her training, and part of that training was to follow him when he decided to lead. During most of the brief time of their relationship, Bishop would be perfectly fine with trailing after her and allowing her to make most of the unimportant decisions. She could choose where they ate and what they did for fun. He couldn’t care less about what movies they might see. All of those daily things would be left to her.

But when it counted, when the chips were down and things got dangerous, he would be in charge.

“I told her I would take care of you.” What he’d told her had actually been more about taking care of anyone who thought they could hurt Nell while he was on watch. He’d actually said something more like he would rip the testicles off the fucker and ram them down his throat if he thought to touch her. Moira Finn had seemed suitably impressed.

Somehow he didn’t think Nell would be. He rather thought she would give him a lecture on proper masculine modern behavior and how it didn’t involve deballing his foes. It was brutally obvious that Nell was one of those bleeding-heart liberals who would let the whole world go to hell because she didn’t want to get her hands dirty. He couldn’t stand the type.

And he still wanted her. His cock had been hard as a damn rock since she’d walked in and looked up at him with those doe eyes. All he’d been able to think about since that minute was getting her under him. The women in his world were typically cold and just as ruthless as he was.

Nell Finn was soft and seemingly innocent. Oh, he was pretty sure she wasn’t a virgin. No one was that innocent, but her lack of a hymen didn’t mean she was worldly.

“Well, I don’t actually require taking care of, but thank you,” she said primly as they walked out into the snow. It had blanketed the mountain in white. Nell pulled her knit cap down, covering her ears.

“Tell me something, sweetheart,” Bishop started as he moved toward his SUV, a rental that had luckily come with full snow tires. “Which bitch was he referring to? You or your mother?”

It took him a moment to realize she wasn’t following him now. He turned, the snow covering his boots. He’d been working in South America for too long. The cold was foreign, alien. He was used to almost junglelike heat.

Nell didn’t seem to mind. She stood in her galoshes, that lovely body swallowed up by her parka. The cap on her head practically devoured her as well, covering most of her hair and ending in two knit balls hanging to her shoulders. It wasn’t sexy. It wasn’t attractive. So why did his heart do a weird shaky thing? She was adorable.

He didn’t do adorable.

“That was rude, Henry. I’m not a bitch, and it’s mean of you to say it.” Her words were quiet, not a real hint of anger in them, but he could feel her hurt.

Damn it. He didn’t need this. He needed to completely rethink his position. She was one of those heart-on-her-sleeve, fall-in-love kind of girls, and all he was looking for was a nice long fuck. So he should back off. He would solve her problem and then she could go her way and he would go his. Surely there were women in this town who just wanted an orgasm.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t actually calling you a bitch. I was making a bad joke about what was written on your wall.”

She stared for a moment as though trying to decide if he was being truthful. “Okay. I’m being touchy. I didn’t like you calling me that.”

She started to walk again, crossing the distance between them. Fuck, she was pretty.

“You shouldn’t like anyone calling you that.”

She shrugged a little. “You get used to it.”

“You get used to it? Who the hell routinely calls you vulgar names?” The thought really pissed him off. He’d been told this was a nice town, not a town where young women were verbally assaulted.

“Oh, lots of people. Mostly at the places where I protest.”

“Protest?”

“Yes. I like to protest. In the last week, I’ve organized or attended five different protests, though one probably shouldn’t count because it was really spontaneous. Max Harper killed a wolf. I protested him. Vigorously.”

Bishop had to work to keep up with her. “Why did he kill a wolf? Is he a hunter?”

She shook her head. “No. Although I’ve heard he hunts, too. He’s a rancher, and apparently this poor wolf was very hungry.”

Bishop stopped, his hands going to his hips. “Nell, he has the right to protect his property.”

Nell turned back to him, a standoff. “And I have the right to protect the earth. He didn’t even try to save the wolf. And he wasn’t apologetic. He was all tough guy ‘I killed one of nature’s blessings and that makes me a man.’ He used a telescopic rifle. The wolf didn’t have a chance. If he wants to prove his big bad manhood, he should take the wolf on without weaponry. Then maybe I will be impressed, though likely not, since I don’t think wolves should have been taken off the endangered species list. I protested that, too.”

Wow. She could talk a mile a minute. “I think if the wolves want to survive, they should evolve and start creating weapons of their own.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, you just wait, Mister. When all the predators are gone, fluffy adorable bunnies will overrun the earth. When they eat every vegetable known to man, you’re going to be hungry.”

She strode past him. Yeah, he didn’t need to get involved with a crazy idealist even for a few brief days. She would make his little vacation into a hell of lectures and dumb ideas about kindness saving humanity. Bishop knew there wasn’t any humanity in most humans. Sheltered Nell thought she could save the world? Well, he’d done a hell of a lot more than she had to protect her ability to protest.

He stared at her as she walked by, wishing he could see the sway of her hips under all that likely cruelty-free fabric. His brain might understand that she was a bad idea, but his dick wasn’t as evolved as his brain.

His dick just wanted her.

She walked right up to the big-ass SUV he’d rented, and she stood by the passenger door, obviously waiting.

“How did you know that was my car?” There were at least fifteen cars in the small parking lot.

She patted the hood. “Oh, this is absolutely the vilest, most gas-guzzling, earth-killing car out here. It was a good bet it was yours.”

That ass was begging for a spanking. He could picture her right over his knee, that round ass in the air, muscles clenching because she was so damn nervous. He would wait, hold off because the anticipation of pain was a part of the process. And then he would give it to her. Hard. Fast. Unrelenting. She might cry a little because at first the shock of the sting seemed like real pain, but he knew just how to turn that sting into an ache. He would start fast, but end slow, his palm resting with every sharp slap so the heat would sink into her muscles and make its way to her pussy. Wet. She’d be wet within moments. Her pussy would swell, just praying for some attention, but he would focus on her ass.

God, he wanted to fuck her. He wanted to use his cock on her pussy as much as he wanted to smack her ass and let her know who the boss was. What was wrong with him? He liked sex, craved it at times, especially when he was coming off a bloody op, but it was the sex he craved, not a particular woman.

“Are you okay?” Nell stood staring at him like she was the tiniest bit worried he was going to go crazy.

Of course, she’d likely run if she knew exactly what he was thinking. The question was—would he catch her? He wasn’t sure. He made the safe play and held up his keys. “Found them.”

He opened her door.

“I can open my own door.”

He felt his eyes narrow. “You know, I would like you a lot more if you would stop pushing this modern ideal that simply because a woman can open her door or stand instead of sit, that a man shouldn’t be polite and open it for her or give up his seat. It’s a politeness. It makes me feel good, and you’re ruining it for me.”

She stopped, biting into her bottom lip. “I hadn’t thought of it that way.”

Yeah, that had been good. Oddly enough, it had also been the truth. “Some men enjoy being courteous to the women they meet. Women aren’t softer. They’re just far more beautiful.”

“You think I’m beautiful?” She flushed and covered her mouth. “I can’t believe I said that out loud. You were talking about all women.”

“I was talking about you.” Whether or not he gave in, she should know she was beautiful. “Now get in and let me take a look at this problem of yours.”

She allowed him to open the door and settled into the passenger seat. “Okay, but I should warn you, it’s pretty violent. It might be upsetting. I mean you’re a college professor. I can’t imagine you’ve seen much violence. This is the nasty side of the world.”

He walked around the car shaking his head as he got into the driver’s seat.

When he closed his eyes at night, he saw all of the bad things of the world in his dreams. Lately he’d begun wondering if he wasn’t one of them. He’d stared into the abyss so fucking long, he’d become a part of it, slowly sliding inside until he didn’t remember what he’d been before. He could tell her stories that would shake her faith in humanity. “Oh, I think I’ll find a way to handle it. I’m sure if it frightens me that you’ll take care of me.”

It was a laughable thought. Though not, it seemed, for Nell. She gave him a bright smile and reached over to touch his arm. “I will. I’ve been in the activist world long enough to know how bad it can be out there, but it’s worth it. We have to fight for the world we want.”

He stopped, his hands in the middle of turning the ignition. Fight for the world we want. It was a child’s ideal—that the world could be changed. The world was the same shit hole it had always been, and he was responsible for making sure bleeding-heart idealists like Nell didn’t realize that truth. If she was forced to face reality, all those ideals would crumble and she would be just like the rest of them—selfish, needy, and willing to trample over anyone to save her own neck.

It was his job to make sure she never knew that about herself.

He turned the engine to his earth-killing vehicle over and eased it into reverse, snow crunching under the tires. He had to be careful. The mountains were beautiful, but like everything else in the world, they were deadly as well if not handled with caution.

“So what do you teach, Henry?”

Assassination 101. South American Coups. How to Change Your Identity in Five Easy Steps. “I teach history.”

Nell’s smile lit up the cab. “Wow. That’s exciting. I love history. What type do you teach? British? I love British history. I can’t decide which age I would rather have lived in. The Dark Ages were full of things to protest. I mean it. What a time to be an activist. Except they kind of burned all of them at the stake. The Victorian Age was better, except if you marched for women’s rights, you often got labeled a whore. I guess this really is the best time to be an activist. Everyone still hates us and thinks we’re annoying, but we no longer get lynched or drawn, hanged, and quartered. Wow. History is kind of bloody now that I think about it.”

He turned slightly and gave her a grin of his own. He actually kind of liked the way her brain worked. He was used to careful conversations where every word was a pointed gun, but Nell just rambled on, giving voice to her every thought. “I specialize in the history of war.”

Her smile disappeared. “I bet you eat meat, too. Don’t you?”

“I can be persuaded to try a salad every now and then.” He wasn’t willing to completely scare her off yet. Being this close to her, he could smell the shampoo she’d used on her hair. Nell Finn smelled like sunshine, and he was so used to the gloom. It was a bad idea, and he rarely had bad ideas. She was going to get hurt.

He was still going to have her. Maybe even today.

It was his vacation after all.

“You’ll need to take a left at the stop sign when you’re down the mountain. Our cabin is near the river. We’re a little isolated.”

Everything was isolated in Bliss, though the valley he’d passed seemed to have plenty of cabins. “Are you sure it’s a good idea to be so far from other people?”

She shrugged. “I like the peace and quiet. It’s nice after the city and all those hospitals.”

“Why were you in the hospital?”

“I wasn’t. Mom was. She has leukemia. We met Pam Sheppard in Denver where she was being treated, and she convinced us to give Bliss a try. I think my mom was hoping she could find a family for me.”

She was getting emotional, her nose flushing. She wouldn’t be able to tell a lie to save her life. “Your mom is your only family?”

She turned slightly, a grin forming. “Unless you count the vampires on another plane of existence. Sorry. I can joke about it now. My mom has certain quirks in her personality, but she’s perfectly harmless.”

Her mom was certifiable. “Is she schizophrenic?”

“No.” Nell huffed. “Delusional, perhaps, but she doesn’t hear voices, and she’s never been violent. She’s a loving mother and a very kind friend. I blame her artistic temperament, but CPS in Atlanta didn’t see it that way.”

He made the left turn and the land became flat, moving toward the valley. “You went into foster care.”

He didn’t like that idea. She was too soft to handle it. A woman like Nell would need someone strong to protect her. Foster parents were a crapshoot. He’d had a couple who cared, but several who had just seen him as a paycheck. A vision of a young Nell being forced into that life assaulted him.

“Not for too long. My mom complied with everything they asked her to. She immediately went into counseling and started saying all the right things. I remember when she was finally able to pick me up. She smiled and was so calm until we were two blocks away and then she broke down. She hugged me and begged me to forgive her. I was eight. She didn’t talk about her family again around anyone until we got here. It’s funny. In some ways I feel like I got my mother back when we came here. She and this guy named Mel argue all the time about who’s worse. Evil faeries versus aliens. They tried to call a town hall meeting and take a vote to see which one would win, but the mayor is too afraid that he’d then be forced to enact a safety plan, and that could get expensive.”

The town sounded a little off, too, but that didn’t bother Bishop. He would likely find the place wildly entertaining—like reading a comedic book or watching a movie. He would sit back and let them entertain him.

And he would let Nell entertain him, too.

She chattered on as though silence was something to be ruthlessly beaten back. Bishop preferred silence, but he found her voice rather pleasant, soothing even as she talked about how she’d left her place in Denver to come to this remote small town and how she was trying to be a writer.

He didn’t have to talk. It was refreshing in a way. He could sit back, and she would take care of that part. Every now and then she would ask him a question about himself and he would sidestep it, turning the conversation back to her.

All he had to do to keep her talking was point out some terrible thing that was happening in the world. Nell had a plan. She had letters to write to dictators and corporations to protest.

She was an idealist of the highest order.

Would she protest him if he didn’t give her a proper orgasm? He wasn’t particularly worried. He intended to make sure she was perfectly satisfied right down to her Birkenstocks.

“That’s the cabin.” She pointed through the windshield to a small cabin by the river. It was a real, actual log cabin with a small front porch and a neatly kept yard. He pulled into the gravel drive. She was right. It was very isolated. The road wasn’t even paved.

“Where does the road go?” There was a dirt road that led away from her cabin toward another mountain.

“It leads up to Elk Creek Pass. There’s not much up that way. There’s a ski lodge and a bar called Hell on Wheels, but I’ve never been to either one. I know the gentlemen who run the bar. They’re very nice.” She opened her door and slid out.

He needed to train her. It was his job to open her door and hers to wait until he could help her out, his hands sliding over her curves and keeping her balanced. He was a little disgruntled as he followed her, but he held his tongue.

The cabin was old, the chinking in need of work. About the only thing that he’d seen that looked new on the place was the mailbox. It had been painted with gold and green, the name “Finn” done up in pretty flourishes. It was also not where it was supposed to be. Someone had forcibly removed the cheery mailbox, and it had ended up on the porch. He picked it up as Nell pushed the ruined door open.

“I think he just kicked it in.” Nell seemed very good at stating the obvious.

Bishop examined the door. Cheap. Thin. Possibly built in the thirties when he would guess the cabin had been built. He stepped inside. The whole place was complete chaos.

The couch had been slashed, the small coffee table broken. Broken dishes littered the tiny kitchen floor.

This was an act of pure hate. Someone hated one of the Finn women. The question was which one. He studied the place, trying to keep a cool professional distance, but it was hard. He’d seen violence over and over again, but something about the thought of Nell having to face it with nothing and no one but her mother at her side sparked a certain anger in him. They were two women, one of whom he suspected was very ill, alone in the world.

He turned and someone had used spray paint to ruin the paneled fireplace.

Die Bitch

Not grammatically correct and a bit rude in Bishop’s opinion. Inelegant. The paint was a wretched purple. He’d probably gotten it on sale. Yes. He could figure this out.

“Do you have any violent ex-boyfriends?” Bishop sifted through the pile of magazines that had spilled from the broken coffee table. Mostly news magazines with a liberal bent, with some arts and crafts manuals sprinkled in. The Finn women were serious-minded. No tabloid rags for them.

Nell frowned, reaching down to pick up a legal pad. “Callie thought I should keep things the way they are until Rye gets a chance to look at it. I can’t stand the mess.”

“He’ll need to take some pictures, but you don’t have to be here for that. Could you answer my question?”

She looked up at him, her eyes wide. “About the boyfriends? No. I don’t have any boyfriends I would imagine could do this. There haven’t been that many, but they were all selected for their beliefs in nonviolence.”

So she’d dated wimps. It didn’t really surprise him, but it made him wonder if she’d ever had really good sex. Probably not. She probably wore shapeless dresses that she’d chosen for the cruelty-free nature of their fabric. He would be shocked if she’d ever had an orgasm. She’d likely selected her lovers based on their political beliefs and not on whether or not they could make her come. He was damn straight sure he could make her come. “How about your mother?”

Nell shook her head. “My mother hasn’t had a boyfriend. She claims my father was the only man she could ever love, and he died when I was really young. I often wonder if losing my dad is what caused her to drift into her fantasy world.”

He wasn’t about to go into all the ways her mother was insane. “Do you have any idea who could have done this? Who have you pissed off lately?”

She had to have pissed off someone. She’d pissed him off in the very short time he’d known her. She’d also gotten his cock hard, and that meant something to him.

Her gorgeous lips turned down. “Probably a lot of people. Look, I protest a lot of things. I believe in standing up for what’s right.”

She was a cute idiot granola girl. Yeah, he got that. “Do you have a list of the companies or people you’ve protested in the last year or so?”

If he had a list, he could figure out if her protests had actually cost someone money. The loss of money could make a person hate pretty damn quick. The faster he figured out who was after her, the faster she could have perfectly worry-free sex.

Nell nodded. “I can print out my schedule for the last year. I’m very organized. I’ve been thinking about using the Internet to bring activists together.”

“You do that. The printout, please,” Bishop said as he walked around.

The cabin was tiny. It couldn’t be more than seven hundred square feet. He counted two whole bedrooms and poked his head into a bathroom that wouldn’t hold more than one person at a time. He looked into the smaller of the two bedrooms. There was a double bed with a pretty pink-and-white quilt that had been slashed to pieces. He could see the room as it had been, pulling back the chaos and forming a picture in his mind of the way Nell’s room should be laid out. There was no question the room was Nell’s. She would never take the larger room. She would have given that up to anyone she was living with. She needed a keeper.

And it was easy to see what she valued. Books. They were torn and damaged, but she’d lined her walls with books and not just nonfiction. He caught sight of some racy covers in the midst of the chaos. Romances. So she wasn’t just interested in intellectual pursuits. She had a romantic side. He could use that.

Underneath a pile of shredded clothes, he saw a hint of pink fur. He reached down and pulled out a teddy bear. Worn and old, it was a sad-looking little thing. Its middle had been torn open.

“Mr. Snugglebunny. I know. It’s a bear, but I was into bunnies back then.” A sad smile lit her face as she took the pathetic-looking stuffed animal from his hands. “As far as I know it’s the only thing I have left of my father.”

He looked at the toy. It was an odd thing. It wasn’t fashioned from mass-marketed materials. Someone had sewn the thing by hand. The bear had buttons for eyes and a black yarn nose. It was a piece of her childhood, and it meant something to her.

He couldn’t miss the tears that pooled in her eyes. “I think you can find someone to fix it.”

Her eyes were bright as she looked up. “Yes. Yes, I can. And I can fix the cabin back up. So I was thinking I can probably get a new door in town, and I have a book on home repairs. I think it’s best if my mom stays with Pam for a while until I get the cabin back into shape. Is there any way you could drop me off in town?”

He felt his eyes narrow because she had plans. That was obvious. He was fairly sure that he wouldn’t like her plans. “Why?”

“Because I need to start scheduling the repairs.”

That wasn’t all she was planning on doing. She was hiding something. It was right there in the way she wouldn’t look him in the eyes. And why had she talked about her mom staying with Pam Sheppard and not herself? It was time to start herding Nell in the proper direction. He crowded her. It wasn’t hard in the small bedroom.

The minute she realized how close he was, she backed up, ceding the space until her back hit the door. “Henry?”

“How do you intend to pay for those repairs?” This cabin would require extensive repairs. Everything would have to be replaced. The door alone would cost hundreds of dollars, not to mention fixing the windows. He would bet a lot that Nell didn’t have that money.

Her face flushed the closer he got. Yes, she was aware of him, finally. That was what he wanted. “I don’t know that’s your business.”

“So it’s my business to take care of this for you, but not to know how you’ll take care of yourself? Is that how you work when you help someone out? You just do one piece of the job and send them on their way?” He was playing on her sympathetic soul. And her body. He leaned in. She smelled sweet, like milk and honey. Damn, but he could eat her up. And there was no way to miss the way her nipples peaked under her sweater because she wasn’t wearing a bra.

Her voice was slightly breathless. “I think it’s nice that you want to help, but I don’t need it. I can fix everything.”

He loomed over her, well aware that he was using his height to intimidate her. “How, Nell? Do you have a job you haven’t told me about?”

“I have a computer I can pawn,” she said quietly.

He’d wondered what she’d intended to do, and still his freaking cold-as-fuck heart softened a fraction. All she’d talked about on the way over here was her writing. “I thought you wrote books.”

Her back was against the wall. She had nowhere to go, and that was just what he wanted. Her eyes had dilated. They roamed from his face to his neck to his chest, taking him in even as she spoke. “I do, but I have to admit, I don’t think I’m very good at it. I just keep getting rejected, so I might as well get rid of the computer. Do you have to stand so close?”

There wasn’t a lick of irritation in that question. It had been asked with a delicious breathiness that let Bishop know she was interested.

“If you didn’t want me to stand so close, you should have gotten a bigger bedroom,” he said, well aware his voice had gone low. He stared down at her, unwilling to let her off the hook for a second. Now that he was so close to her, he was damn sure he couldn’t let her go. Oh, eventually he would. He would go back to his life and she would move on with hers, but for a week or so, he was going to be in her bed. He was going to be in her body. And he was going to solve a few of her problems. “You can’t pawn your computer. How will you keep up with your protests? How will you know what to protest in the first place?”

It didn’t make a lick of sense, but he couldn’t stand the thought of her walking into some crummy shop and giving up her computer for half of what it was worth.

“I’ll figure it out,” she replied, her eyes round.

And it wouldn’t do a lick of good. It would be a drop in the bucket of what she would need. “It won’t work, Nell.” He backed her against the wall. “Let someone help you. I can loan you the money.”

It wouldn’t be a loan, but she didn’t have to know that until he was long gone and she couldn’t find him.

“That’s not a good idea.” Her head tilted up. “None of this is a good idea.”

But her lips, those fuck-me, take-me lips were trembling. Her hands were moving to his waist like she couldn’t help herself, and he didn’t even want to try to help himself. Everything about his life was plotted and planned and decided on for the best of whatever fucking mission he happened to be on.

He didn’t want to think. He wanted her. That was all that mattered.

“It’s the best idea I’ve had in a long time, honey.” He moved his head just a bit because despite her words, she’d already gone up on her tiptoes to bring her mouth closer to his. It was the simplest thing in the world to lean over just a bit and touch his lips to hers.

So simple and so shattering. The minute he touched her, he lost control. She sighed against him, and the need to dominate her roared through his system. He pushed her against the wall, pulling her up so the only thing supporting her was his strength. She held on to him, clinging like she needed him to breathe.

He rubbed his body against hers, wishing they weren’t someplace cold. Too many clothes. There was way too much between them. He wanted to be skin to skin, his chest nestling against her breasts. He wanted to feel the hard press of her nipples poking at him. But for now, he simply inhaled her.

He’d been right. She tasted sweet, so fucking sweet. He wound his arms around her waist and felt her breasts crush against his chest as he licked her lower lip. “Open your mouth. Let me in, baby.”

He felt the hot rush of her breath along his lips. “Oh, Henry.”

He hated the fact that she was saying his goddamn fake name, but then he didn’t give a shit because her mouth opened under his and he invaded, taking the space she’d ceded. His tongue surged in, finding hers and playing in a silky dance. So soft. She was ridiculously soft, and there was a natural submission inside Nell that made his cock long to dominate. She was hesitant at first, but then her tongue touched against his and she picked up the rhythm.

His cock ached. She was too short. He couldn’t get her in the right position. He needed to lay her down and spread her out like a feast. Not this first time. He was too hot for that. This first time would be hard and quick, but later he would eat her pussy for hours. He would tie her up and have her begging for his cock.

But for now her single bed would have to do. He gripped her ass. Oh, yeah, he was going to fuck her there, too. He was going to work his cock into her little asshole and enjoy her squirms and the breathy pants she would make. Fuck yeah. “Hold on.”

She gasped as he moved her. He was lifting her, carrying her with him. He didn’t give her a second to think. He didn’t need his mouth to turn and fall onto the bed with her. He kept her mouth perfectly occupied, tangling their tongues together. Her hands found his hair, and he felt her fingers running across his scalp, holding him to her as though he would leave. She was seriously underestimating her own appeal. He wasn’t leaving until he’d had her a hundred times. He might need more than a week. They wouldn’t miss him. Two weeks. That was all it would take. Two weeks and he would surely have fucked her out of his system.

He could fuck her a lot in two weeks.

He buried his face in her neck as his hand found her breast. Definitely a C-cup and perfectly natural.

“Henry, that feels so nice.”

Nice? He wasn’t nice. He was nasty, and he was going to get her nasty, too. He finally managed to get his cock where it needed to be, right against her pussy. He rubbed against her, letting her feel every inch of his erection. “It’s not going to be nice, baby. It’s going to be hot and fast and hard. I’m going to have you screaming for me before I’m done. Do you understand?”

It was such a small thing. A tiny squeak, but Bishop was too well trained. His cock protested, but his instincts took over. One minute he was promising Nell a violent orgasm, and the next he was off the bed and had his hands wrapped around some kid’s throat.

Tall, gangly. The skinny fucker couldn’t be more than twenty. His blue eyes went wide with fear. Even at his impressive height, Bishop managed to hold him off the ground with a single hand. The kid’s sneakers kicked, trying to find something solid. He dropped the baseball bat he had in his hand.

“Now, see, I told him to leave you two be,” a laconic voice said. A man in a khaki uniform and a cowboy hat sat in the living room. From the open door, Bishop could see the man was relaxing, his feet up on the TV stand. “Seth wasn’t listening. Logan wasn’t either, but he didn’t happen to find a piece of sporting good equipment fast enough.”

“I’m here.” Another equally gangly kid ran into the cabin. “Did Seth save Nell?”

“Uhm, this really hurts,” the kid named Seth said. “Could I go now?”

“Henry, you put Seth down this instant.” Nell was on her feet, straightening her clothes. She was right back to the buttoned-up, slightly prudish girl she’d been before he’d gotten in between her legs.

He thought about going ahead and killing the little fucker. He could do it. He could decapitate a man without ever breaking the skin. It was one of his many talents.

“Don’t, man,” the deputy said. He had to be the deputy. This was a man and not a boy, but he wasn’t anywhere close to retirement. “I understand the inclination to kill him, but he really did think you were raping poor Nell. The kid can’t tell the difference between a good moan and a bad one. I think we need to get them both laid, but Logan there has a momma who likes to shoot a man’s balls off for target practice.”

“She doesn’t have to know, Rye.” The kid named Logan was carrying a Ping-Pong paddle.

“Oh, Marie would know. Marie knows everything. And what did you think you were going to do with that thing? Were you going to paddle him to death?” Rye got up, a notepad in his hand. “Uh, Mr. Whatever your name is, he’s turning blue. Now, if you’re really intent on killing him, I’m going to have to file a report, and I hate reports. The name’s Harper by the way. Rye Harper.”

“Henry Flanders.” Bishop dropped the kid. He hit his knees, gasping for breath.

Nell was right there beside him, offering comfort. To the kid who’d interrupted them, of course. No fucking comfort for him. She stared up at him as she smoothed a hand down the kid’s back. “That was horrible of you, Henry. What were you thinking?”

He’d been thinking that the asshole was back, and he could take him out and then go right back to fucking Nell.

Hell, he hadn’t been thinking at all. And obviously the deputy had walked in at some point and had a look around and Bishop hadn’t even noticed. He’d been too busy planning to sink his cock into Nell.

He didn’t like the feeling. She made him vulnerable. He wasn’t vulnerable.

“I apologize, of course.” He stood back, watching her. “Next time, I’ll let whoever walks into your cabin kill us both.”

She looked up, frowning. “All I’m saying is you should have asked him what he was doing. This is Seth Stark. He’s the grandson of one of our locals. He’s here on his winter break. There was no cause to hurt him. I’m very surprised at you, Henry.”

“And I thought you were hurting her. Nell doesn’t like men,” Seth choked out.

“Yes, I do.” She turned that frown on the kid.

Bishop stepped out, entering the living room. Logan was trying to explain to the deputy that his momma would never know if Rye found him a girl and hey, he was willing to share with Seth.

What the hell was up with these people? The deputy seemed more interested in talking to the boys than he did in figuring out who was trying to hurt Nell. And Nell didn’t seem the least bit upset by any of it. She was on her feet, walking around and making sure all the other men were taken care of.

She carefully avoided him.

She didn’t look to him to handle the deputy. She didn’t ask him to help. She ignored him for the most part, like they hadn’t kissed.

Maybe she did this sort of thing a lot. Maybe she was used to random guys throwing her down. Yeah, he didn’t like this feeling either. He wasn’t a possessive man. He’d learned long ago not to get attached to anything because it would be gone the next day. But watching Nell with the other men made his fists clench, his gut churn.

She hadn’t accepted his courtesies, but she allowed the deputy, Rye Harper, to find a seat for her. She allowed him to dust it off and she sat while he stood, taking down her information. Even the dumb-ass kids were allowed to go and find her some cups since all of her glassware was broken.

But she didn’t ask him for a damn thing.

What the hell was he around for?

He stepped out on the porch, the cold still a shock to his system.

“Who are you?”

Seth had walked out behind him. He had on a coat, cashmere by the looks of it. Seth Stark had cash, or rather his parents did. His best friend, the kid with the Ping-Pong paddle, didn’t. He was dressed in a sweater that looked hand knitted and well-worn jeans.

“I’m Henry Flanders. I teach military history at a small liberal arts college in the northwest.”

The Stark kid didn’t move a muscle. “I doubt it. I’ve never seen any teacher move the way you do.”

Bishop shrugged. He’d pegged the kid’s accent the minute he’d started talking. Pure Manhattan. Upper East Side. “You haven’t been out of New York enough, kid.”

Stark kept his distance. “I’m not stupid. I’m actually quite smart. What do you want with Nell? She’s a nice girl.”

And Stark had a thing for her. He could understand that. “I’m trying to help her.”

And he was starting to think she didn’t really need his help. Didn’t want it.

Stark nodded. “Okay. I heard someone was trying to hurt Nell. It looks like it’s true. It probably has something to do with her work. She’s shut down some businesses for violating laws. That can make people mad. I can start trying to look on the web. I’m really good with a computer.”

That could be helpful. “Check her e-mails. I would be surprised if he hadn’t written her before this. This feels like an escalation. You’ll need her password.”

The kid snorted, an arrogant sound. Bishop appreciated a proper amount of arrogance. “I think I can handle it. I haven’t met an account yet that I couldn’t hack.”

Yeah, sure. “All right.”

The kid flushed, his cheeks reddening slightly. “I just mean, I’m pretty good. I can do it. Uhm, I’ll ask for her password. You’re right. That would be way easier.”

And now Bishop was interested in Seth Stark because he was hiding something. It was right there in the pink of his skin and the way his eyes suddenly found the floor. Maybe he was wrong. “Who caught you?”

Those lanky shoulders moved up and down. “No one.”

“I can strangle you again. This time Nell isn’t around.” Killing the kid might release some stress.

His hands came up in defeat. “Fine. I might have been a curious kid. I thought I was a hacker. I got into the tiniest bit of trouble with some suits.”

Fuck. Suits? More like feds. Feds were the ones who showed up on a dude’s doorstep when he got handsy with someone else’s accounts. Yeah, if the FBI was interested in the kid, then maybe he really could help. “Did someone come see you?”

He shrugged again. “I do a little work for the government from time to time.”

Then he was really fucking good, and Bishop needed to look into him. “Sure, kid. Just check her e-mail. Find out what you can. I’m staying out at the Mountain and Valley. Get in touch with whatever you find.”

He’d promised Bill he would solve her problem. He glanced back in the room, and she was smiling up at the deputy.

“I will,” Stark said.

“And give her a ride back up the mountain, will you?” Bishop asked. He could do this from a distance. “She doesn’t need me.”

Bishop stepped off the porch and drove off up the road. Toward that bar she’d mentioned. Hell on Wheels. Sounded like his speed. He could use a drink.