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Cabin Fever


Chapter One

A thick blanket of snow pounded down on the windshield of the Jeep Cherokee. Leather creaked as Gwen tightened her fingers around the wheel. This was so not good. Her first official day of vacation and she was driving up the Colorado Rockies in the middle of a snowstorm that hadn't even been on her damn weather app. Not that she could check to see if the report had changed because there was zero service. So much for calling for help if she needed any.

Right now, she should’ve been in the Caribbean soaking up the sun and scuba diving, celebrating Christmas in the sun for the first time in forever. Instead, she was driving to bum-fuck-nowhere to meet with the reclusive and incredibly egotistical writer, Jacob Masters. Everyone wanted a piece of Jacob Masters and his best-sellers. Marjorie, her boss, had been representing him for the last four years. Last Thursday she’d come across some news through the grapevine, Jacob was shopping for a new agent. Frankly, Gwen didn’t blame him. Her boss was a hell of a businesswoman, but she was also incredibly ruthless.

Marjorie wanted Master’s latest book, and refused to wait for it just in case he did find a new agent before she got the masterpiece in her hands. The person she had in mind to retrieve it? Why her assistant of course. The ultimatum hadn’t been what Gwen was expecting when she’d decided to demand a promotion or quit. Actually, she’d been planning to quit, and she didn’t care if it was flushing five years down the drain. Working for Marjorie for the last few years had amounted to very little professional growth. It amounted to very little but errands, filing, and anything her boss didn’t.

She should’ve known her boss was up to something the moment Marjorie agreed with her about how much work she did around the office, and how she deserved a shot at a promotion. The new agent promotion would be her pending one condition; she had to get Master’s latest manuscript and get it back to her by tomorrow afternoon. Desperation for the new position and not having to work directly under Marjorie was how she found herself driving up the Rockies in the middle of a snowstorm.

Gwen groaned at the thought of having to deal with Jacob Masters. She'd only ever talked to him on the phone, and he wasn't exactly the most patient and polite man in the whole world. Arrogant was an understatement and talking to him was like, and well she couldn't think of anything worse than being saddled with talking to Mr. Master’s when he was angry. Lately, he’d been angry every time he called. He was condescending to a fault, mostly to Marjorie and for that Gwen really couldn’t fault him. She'd seen his picture on the back of his books and the man was insanely hot, but the smirk on his face told her his ego was enormous, and not the one in his pants.

A small, log cabin with smoke swirling out of the chimney came into view. Thick forest, massive pine trees surrounded it and what looked to be Christmas trees around the house. Douglas Fir, Blue Spruce, she didn’t know, but with the snowy landscape, they looked magical.

Gwen breathed a sigh of relief and could barely believe she actually made it here in this weather. Coming to a stop, she turned off the Jeep and prepared to face one of their most egotistical, arrogant client ever.

“You better be giving me that promotion Marjorie.” She groaned, grabbing her briefcase and getting out. Pulling her beanie down further, she tightened her scarf and made her way up the snow-covered walkway.

The wind howled, and a strong gust nearly knocked her off her feet. The snow came down harder, and the cold seeped through her heavy coat. Ironically, snow wasn’t so beautiful anymore.

Glancing around, she hurried a little faster because she was suddenly afraid she’d lose sight of the cabin and get lost. “There's no flipping way I'm getting stuck out here.”

Stomping up the wooden porch steps, she nearly tripped on the carpet as she hurried across and pounded at the door. There was no answer. She knocked again and again. “Mr. Masters! Hello?”

“Who is it?”

At least that was what she thought she heard. The wind and the door made it difficult to understand much of anything. Loud barking followed as a dog skidded to a stop before the door.

“I'm from Brown Literary Agency!” she yelled struggling to call over the wind and the yapping dog.

The man’s voice was closer, a good sign. “What do you want?! Quiet Molly!”

“I was sent to pick up your manuscript.”


“Your manuscript!” she screamed.

“I can't hear you!”

No shit! “You’d be able to hear if you opened the damn door!” The heavy, wooden door flew open. “Arrogant jerk.”

“What the hell are you doing out in weather like this?” He thundered, grabbing her hand and jerking her inside. Molly, she assumed, began jumping all over her licking her hand like a lollipop. He slammed the door. “Molly down!” The dog listened instantly, retreating to a laughably small bed in the corner of the room. “Did you just call me an arrogant jerk?”

Damnit, her and her big mouth. Pulling her beanie off her head, Gwen gave a nervous chuckle and raised her head. Immediately, her eyes widened, and the air left her lungs in a startled gasp. Holy shit, the man was freaking gorgeous. No way did any picture do this man justice.

Tanned skin, powerful jaw covered by a dark brown beard longer than her usual preference, but it looked sinfully masculine. High cheekbones, straight nose, and a sexy top lip slightly fuller than the bottom. Black ink crawled up his neck from under the neckline of his black thermal in intricate swirls.

Even the back of his hands and knuckles sported ink. Gwen just knew those tats went all the way up those ripped arms. A big, tatted up man with a beard, alone in a cabin was just about the sexiest fantasy she'd ever had. What were the odds she'd find herself in that very scenario during a snowstorm?

Meeting his eyes, she almost melted on the spot because the man had the most mesmerizing pair of ocean blue eyes she'd ever seen.

“Like what you see?” He smiled. No smirked. A smile wasn’t cocky enough.

She opened her mouth to respond but was distracted as he crossed those big arms over his chest. The dark gray thermal stretched tantalizingly across broad shoulders and equally broad chest. She saw two, round balls on each side of what was obviously pierced nipples. Her knees went weak.

His bulging biceps showcased nicely in the tight material. His long legs were clad in dark blue jeans hanging loosely around his lean hips, and highlighting what looked to be a very impressive cock. The way this man looked, with those eyes, tats, piercings and everything else, was completely unfair.

He cleared his throat. “Are you through?”

Mortified, her gaze flew back up to his face. She opened her mouth to say something, anything to deter the fact that she’d been drooling but he spoke before she could.

He was holding out his arms. “I wouldn't want to interrupt you undressing me with your eyes.”

Straightening her spine, she lifted her chin, deciding to ignore his comment and his enormous sex appeal. “Sorry. You caught me off guard.”

Still smirking, he ran his tattooed hand over his jaw. “Did I now?”

She rolled her eyes. “I'm Ms. Montoya from Brown Literary Agency...”

“You're Ms. Montoya?” He cut her off running his gaze down her body, and slowly back up until those amazing eyes once again connected with hers. “This is a surprise.”

His bold perusal of her left heat every place his gaze touched, which was completely absurd because it wasn't like he could see anything. The thick jacket, scarf, and knee-high snow boots were too bulky to make out her figure, leaving only the skinny jeans which clung to her ass and thighs. Judging by the male appreciation in his eyes, it was enough.

Heat surged between her thighs, and she shifted her weight. Jacob Master’s had turned her on by just looking at her. How in the actual fuck was something like that even possible?

“Pardon?” she tried to sound offended, but it came out breathless instead.

“I'm surprised.” He stated again.

“You've said that already. Why exactly?”

“By your voice on the phone, I thought you were...older.” His gaze swept down her again.

She bristled at his words. “Excuse me, are you saying I sound like an old lady?”

Jacob held up his hands in a gesture of peace. “Whoa, if it makes you feel better I get that all the time.”

“I'm sure.” She muttered rolling her eyes. “It's because you're grumpy.” She muttered under her breath.

Chuckling, he walked past her and knelt in front of the fire tossing on a couple of logs.  “So, Ms. Montoya, care to tell me why you’re up here in weather like this?”

“What?” Shit, she’d been checking out his incredible back and ass, and hadn’t been listening to him.

Dusting off his hands he came to his feet and turned to her. “If you work for Marjorie you’re not from around here. Therefore you’re not used to snow or snowstorms for that matter. If you were, you’d know a person's got to be crazy to come up here in this weather. I was wondering what, from me, was so important.”

“First there was nothing about any snowstorm on my weather app...” he tossed his head back and laughed. Damn, he looked so hot when he laughed like that, and it just made her irritation worse. “What's so funny?” she asked through clenched teeth.

“Did you say weather app? You can't be serious.”

“And where do you get your weather information from?” She cocked one perfectly groomed brow. “Look at the sun? Drop sand in the wind?”

He chuckled resting his hands on those lean hips. “I get my information from the weather channel or in this case, weather radio.”

“Oh really. Well, that's a relief because the weather channel is always right.”

He laughed again. “Even if I didn't watch the weather channel I’d know more than an app does by just looking out the window.” Jacob pointed at the window behind her.

“What are you...” her words died in her throat as she turned around to look out the window. The snow was coming down much harder than she'd originally thought, and she could barely make out her jeep which wasn’t that far away from the cabin. “Oh fuck.” She whispered.

“That’s right, and you're out driving around in it.” His heavy boots pounded against the wood, but she didn't turn around to look where he was going.

Stuck up in the middle of a snow storm the same day her vacation started. Stuck with the moody, arrogant writer, she dreaded talking to at the office. She couldn't believe this was happening. There was no possible way she could stay stranded in this cabin until who knew when.

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