Even the word sounds dangerous.
It should probably scare me knowing Thorne is trained to kill. Trained to make life-or-death calls. Trained to pull the trigger. But I’m not scared. Instead, I feel a strange sense of safety, sitting here in his living room eating pancakes with him. This man clearly knows how to handle danger, and it feels like nothing could ever hurt me with Thorne around. Not even a hungry mountain lion.
As I process his words, my eyes slide to his left hand. To the missing fingers—index and middle. I’d assumed he lost them in a woodchopping accident, but maybe it was in the line of duty.
Thorne notices my gaze.
“Put an end to the sniping pretty damn fast,” he says, wiggling his fingers. “Went back to infantry until I retired.”
“What happened?”
“Frostbite.” He shrugs. “Nothing glamorous. Was on a mission in Kunar Province in sub-zero temperatures. Didn’t move for hours. Couldn’t risk blowing the operation.” He glances at his missing fingers. “They don’t cause me much trouble. The body adapts.”
He takes another bite of his pancakes, wiping away a string of syrup from his beard.
This man literally makes spilling food attractive.
It’s impossible not to want Thorne. He’s still infuriating. Still twenty years older than me. But he does something to me, this rugged veteran. My body reacts to every look from his frowning green eyes, every word in his gruff and growly voice. I feel taut as a rubber band, ready to snap as I think back to my dream. Thorne’s giant body moving on top of mine. I suck in a breath and press my thighs together beneath the table, wishing I was wearing underwear.
“So…” I say, desperate to distract myself. “Uh…so, when did you retire from the military?”
“Three years ago. That’s when I started fixing up this place.”
His words jolt me back to reality.
The cabin…the whole reason I came here in the first place.
I glance around the living room. The flickering fire casts a warm glow over the leather chairs and plush rugs, turning the wooden walls the color of caramel. My gaze drifts outside, taking in the towering trees and the glittering ribbon of the frozen river. Tiny snowflakes drift to the ground, slowly covering the rusty smears of blood near the tree trunk.
“You did a great job with this place,” I say. “It’s a beautiful cabin.”
Thorne’s eyes meet mine, darkening with something I can’t decipher. I feel a pinch of unease in my gut. The mood has shifted. Now we’re both thinking the same thing. The reason I’m here.
“Why do you care about this place, princess?” Thorne asks eventually.
I swallow. “What do you mean?”
He’s surveying me like I’m a puzzle he can’t figure out.
“I know you inherited a share,” he says. “Not gonna pretend otherwise. But what does a city girl with millions want with half a log cabin? Can’t get my head around it.”
The pancakes turn to glue in my mouth. I look down at the table, focusing on the rough grain of the wood. Anything to avoid Thorne’s scowl. The silence stretches for several beats too long.
“Aria?”
“I…I know how you must see me,” I murmur.
Another pause. I can feel Thorne’s eyes burning into me, but I don’t look.
“How do I see you?” he asks quietly.
“You think I’m a spoiled brat.” My throat constricts, but I keep talking. “You think I’m an entitled princess who came here on a whim, just because I can. Trying to mess with your life and take everything you’ve worked for?—”
“Aria,” he growls. “Look at me?—”
“You’re right about the spoiled brat part.” I force myself to meet his gaze as I interrupt him, willing my tears not to spill. “Dad was always spoiling me. He paid for my car, my vacations, my clothes. When I graduated high school, he gave me a great job at his company, which I definitely didn’t deserve. But it’s all gone now.”
Thorne’s jaw tightens. “What do you mean?”
