Mountain Devil (4 page)

Ella looked up, biting her lip. “I-I know I said I wanted to go home, but I didn’t really mean it. I can’t go home. Not yet. The longer I’m gone, the less likely the wedding is to be rescheduled on me so soon, especially if most of the guests are still in town. And, well, the reward will probably increase. I promise to stay out of your way.”

Ed’s spirits rose and sank simultaneously. She wanted to stay longer, and that meant more reward money, possibly enough to replace that $25,000 he’d been expecting. But it also meant he’d have to keep an arm’s length from the girl. That lustful side ached to push her down and thrust hilt-deep between those sweet folds he’d glimpsed moments ago.

“Please?” Ella asked when he didn’t immediately respond.

“No more than seven days,” he said firmly. “If the reward goes up, great. If not, you’ll still be going back. I won’t have your family worry after you for much longer.”

“It’s a deal,” she said, sniffing and wiping a hand across her swollen eyes.

An awkward silence stretched between them. Ed couldn’t wait for the day to end. Being around Ella Emerson was exhausting, both mentally and physically.

“OK,” he said. “Follow me. I’ll show you to your room.”

* * *

In the guestroom bathtub, Ella enjoyed the feel of warm, soapy water against every inch of her body, save for her sore bottom. She remained shocked that the bounty hunter had had the audacity to spank her.

Sure, he’d threatened it while on the mountain, but she hadn’t taken that threat too seriously. A small part of her had been excited at the prospect of the very handsome Ed Peters taking her across his knee, but the embarrassment and pain of the actual experience left her wishing she’d only behaved.

She refused to be attracted to Ed Peters. He was just a mean bounty hunter who only cared about money.

A knock on the door made her jump. “Yes?” she called, wondering what couldn’t wait until after her bath. As far as she knew, Mr. Peters had bolted the bedroom door shut from the outside.

“Ella, I just placed a bag for you on the bed.

Clothes, shoes, makeup, that sort of thing. Enough to get you by for seven days.”

Stunned, Ella’s throat tightened as she searched for her voice. “Thank you, Mr. Peters,” she managed to say. A few moments later, she heard the door close and the bolt slide across.

Inside the duffle bag, Ella found a few pairs of shorts, flip-flops, shirts, even intimate wear and pajamas. Underneath the clothing, she found cosmetics and a variety of toiletries like perfumed soap and shampoos. As she dressed herself, her stomach twisted into a ball of knots. Just as she’d decided Mr. Peters was a soulless bounty hunter, he’d gone and done something thoughtful.

Later on at the dinner table, Ed Peters was silent and stern. Ella played with her pasta and stole glances at him, searching for the courage to speak.

She wanted to understand him, to know what secret experiences made him as hard as stone. His glances were not kind.
He
disliked
her
, but Ella couldn’t be sure why.

“This is good,” she finally said, speaking of the chicken and broccoli fettuccini.

He nodded but said nothing.

“So…how long have you lived here?” Ella dabbed the corners of her mouth with a napkin.

“A couple of years.” He offered no additional information.

“It’s very beautiful here.” Ella felt the walls closing in around her even as she spoke. Ed was so unreceptive, so cold. Talking to him was like trying to swim through the current of arctic waters. This time he hadn’t even nodded.

When they were both finished, Ella bolted away with their plates. “I’ll do the dishes and clean the kitchen,” she said, darting out of the dining room before Ed could reply.

As she stared at the mess and the dishwasher, it suddenly occurred to her that she’d never cleaned a kitchen in her life. Rosie and Angela, their housekeepers, had always done
everything
. Even while she’d been away during college, she’d used a maid service. Determined to fulfill her promise to clean, Ella returned to the dining room for the rest of the plates. Ed was just leaving, and shot her a curious glance before disappearing down the long hallway.

A curious expression was better than a stern expression. She peered after him to witness him enter a room at the end of the hall. She decided to find him again after the kitchen was clean. Find him and thank him for the clothes. And for everything else.

Ella managed to fill the dishwasher and wipe the table and counters down. When it was time to start the dishwasher, she searched for soap. Next to the kitchen sink was a bottle of blue dish soap, so she squirted it into the square hole on the underside of the dishwasher door, feeling like a genius. When she returned home in a week, she could dazzle Rosie and Angela with her adventures in the kitchen.

Down the hallway, Ella found Mr. Peters in a study lined with books and unusual metal sculptures of animals. Bears and wolves, lions and panthers. It would’ve been a frightening place to enter even without Ed Peters waiting inside.

“Can I help you?” he asked once Ella was through the door. She’d knocked of course, but her voice failed her. His curious expression had vanished, taking her courage with it. The stern expression was back, as was the icy voice and darkened blue eyes.

Everything about Ed Peters was intimidating, from his ridged posture to his piercing gaze.

“I…um…the kitchen is clean.” The words falling from her lips sounded weak. She sounded like a child speaking.

“Thank you,” he said, but his tone was sterner than his face. “Are you ready for bed?”

“W-what?”

“When you wish to retire for the night, I need to lock the deadbolt,” he said, holding a file in one hand as he spoke from behind the large desk. “Come find me before you go to bed.”

“Oh…well…I’m kind of a night owl,” she said. “I just wanted to say…thank you again for the clothes.

That was…very thoughtful.”

Ed Peters’s expression softened for the briefest moment, but Ella saw it—she’d been searching for cracks in that rock-hard exterior ever since he’d removed the blindfold.

“It was necessary,” he said, returning his gaze to the file.

Ella forced a smile, and felt extremely vulnerable standing in the large room. Say something else already, Ella, she thought, but the words never came.

“Was there anything else?” Mr. Peters asked, looking up from his work—whatever work a bounty hunter did from behind a desk.

“Um…no.”

“Don’t forget the house alarm is set. Any window or door opened will set it off—even from the inside.” Ed glared at her, causing her stomach to flutter, and for what seemed like the thousandth time in front of Ed Peters her voice failed her completely.

Ella fled from the study with her heart pounding in her ears. Surviving another seven days with Ed Peters wouldn’t be easy. He has secrets, she decided as she moved down the hallway toward the living room. There had been pictures along a shelf in the back of that room. She intended to get a good look at them and the rest of the house before bedtime. Mr.

Peters was busy in his study, so he’d never know.

As Ella snooped, she became angry with herself.

Why did it matter if Ed Peters disliked her so much?

In reality, they were just business partners. Business partners didn’t have to like each other, they just both needed to benefit from the deal. Ed Peters would be several thousand dollars richer, and Ella would escape—or postpone—marriage to Brandon Andrews.

The bounty hunter had once been a cop. There were pictures of him in uniform with other officers in various locations in Philadelphia. Ella glanced out the window and wondered if this property was near Philadelphia. The trees were so thick in all directions that it was impossible to tell. Given the driving time, she could be anywhere in Maryland, Pennsylvania, Virginia, or West Virginia. It was doubtful that Ed Peters would reveal their location. He would probably blindfold her on the way home in seven days.

In her adventures around the house, Ella passed the kitchen, but stopped cold in the doorway.

The dishwasher was pushing out suds—all over the kitchen floor.
Oh God
,
I used too much soap
.

Desperately, Ella stepped into the mess and tried pulling the dishwasher open. It wouldn’t budge.

“Damn it!” she cursed under her breath, randomly pressing buttons on the machine. Maybe she could get it stopped before Mr. Peters discovered the mess.

She could clean the whole place up, and he’d never know.

As she scooped up suds with a couple of towels from the bathroom, her mind drifted to the spanking Mr. Peters had given her not very long ago. Her stomach twisted and she cleaned faster. No doubt this mess would earn her another spanking. She shuddered at the thought.

When the dishwasher finally stopped spitting out suds, she sighed in relief. But her relief was short-lived, because a sharp voice cut through the room.

“
What
are you doing?” asked Mr. Peters from the doorway, thick arms folded across his broad chest.

Ella froze and watched as he drew closer to inspect the dishwasher. It was an accident, just an accident.

“What kind of soap did you use?”

“I…um…” But all Ella could do was point at the bottle of blue liquid on the counter.

For a moment, she feared Mr. Peters would explode. His expression sent a chill down her spine.

“To your room. Now.”

Ed Peters surveyed the mess in his kitchen in disbelief. His first instinct was to follow Ella and spank her to tears, but the more he thought about the situation, the more sense it made. Ella Emerson came from money. She’d probably never washed a dish or a load of laundry in her whole life. The Emerson’s had two live-in housekeepers. That information had been in the dossier Randy had sent.

And yet Ella had insisted on cleaning the kitchen.

Instead of playing the role of the spoiled brat and sitting back while Ed did everything, she’d made an effort to be helpful.

Biting back a smile and shaking his head, Ed cleaned up the kitchen floor and got the remaining suds out of the dishwasher. When he found Ella, she was sitting on the edge of the bed, biting her lip. Once he strode through the door, she shot straight up, looking dreadfully nervous as moisture shone in her brown eyes.

“So who taught you how to wash dishes?” Ed asked, unable to keep the sarcasm from creeping into his voice. Ella must have noticed, because her shoulders relaxed—just a little.

“I…never learned,” she confessed. “I’m very sorry. I just didn’t want to be a bum during the next seven days.” Again, she bit her lip and fidgeted in place.

“It’s quite all right, Ms. Emerson,” he said. “I’ve already hidden the blue soap.” A smile tugged at the corners of his typically inflexible lips. And desire swelled within his pants. Ella looked incredible in the shorts and tank top she was wearing. Randy had done well. Too well.

“You’re not mad?” she asked, continuing to fidget under his gaze.

“Oh, I was mad,” he confessed, shocking himself in the process. What was he doing being so open to this girl? “But then I realized it was only an accident.” Ella’s sudden smile melted his heart. For a moment, he considered inviting her to watch a movie or sit on the front porch, but then he remembered her sins. She’d all but left a man at the altar. She deserved no kindness.

“I’m locking your door now. Go to bed.” His stern voice and equally stern expression had resurfaced, just like that. He turned to leave, ignoring the disappointment flashing in her brown eyes.
No
kindness
.

Back in his study, he plunged headfirst into the dossier provided by Randy. The information he found was fascinating, and it was contrary to all his assumptions about Ella Emerson.

She’d graduated third in her class from a local private school, the same school attended by Brandon Andrews. She’d gone to college in Roanoke and obtained duel degrees in English and Psychology, graduating cum laude. Sure, her parents had millions—and so did Brandon’s family. But she wasn’t lazy, and her record was clean.

Maybe she wasn’t such a spoiled brat, after all.

But when he remembered how she’d left Brandon Andrews, his heart overflowed with bitterness.
No
kindness
.

The more Ed Peters thought about Ella’s fiancé, the more curious he became. Quickly, he called up Randy and asked the kid to prepare a dossier on Brandon Andrews. Randy was only too eager, and promised to fax everything by midnight.

Sure enough, at 11:45 p.m., the fax came through.

Ed poured himself a glass of whiskey and set to the task of learning about the man who wasn’t good enough for Ella Emerson.

The information about Brandon Andrews was just as shocking as the information about Ella had been. On the surface, Brandon had everything: good looks, money, a job with his parent’s business, and a master’s degree in business.

But his court records were troubling. He had one DUI arrest, two dismissed cases of rape, one expunged charge of assault, and he was currently being sued for slander. Maybe Ella knew about these things, and maybe she didn’t. But the truth was, the thought of Ella Emerson marrying Brandon Andrews made Ed’s stomach turn.

* * *

The next morning at breakfast, Ella quietly avoided his gaze. My fault, he thought, wishing he hadn’t been so harsh last night before locking her bedroom door. He watched her push eggs around on her plate. The only thing she seemed interested in was the coffee.

When they were finished, Ella gazed at the table, at the ceiling, at the wall, everywhere but at him. He half hoped she would offer to clean up just so he could teasingly explain how the dishwasher worked.

Before he could think on that further, the phone rang.

It was Randy. Ed excused himself to take the call in his study.

“What’s up?”

“The reward has gone up, Mr. Peters. It’s at $15,000 right now. Just one day made a big difference,” said Randy, sounding chipper and sleepy at the same time.

Somehow, this didn’t faze Ed. All he could think about was the sad girl pushing eggs around in his breakfast nook. Thinking about money seemed…dirty.