"You're not leaving, Savannah." He says it low, a rumble vibrating in my chest. "You belong to me. We established that. You gave yourself to me."
"I..." My face heats, shame and anger warring in my blood. "I slept with you, Logan. I didn't sign a contract. You can't just keep me on a mountain."
Austin lets out a low whistle. "She’s got fire, Pres. I like her."
"Out," Logan snarls, gaze locked on me.
"We need to discuss the Sterling situation," Austin presses, tone turning serious. "He’s asking questions about the eastern ridge. If the Gunnars are harboring a missing tourist while Sterlingis trying to broker a peace treaty with the Costa family, it complicates things."
"I said out," Logan roars, the sound echoing off the timber walls.
Tristan grabs Austin’s arm. "Let’s go check the perimeter, brother. Give them a minute."
Austin holds up his hands in mock surrender, leaving the phone on the table. "You’ve got ten minutes, darlin'. Make the call. Tell them you’re safe. Or Nathan is going to be kicking down this door by noon, and Logan will have to kill him. And that’s a mound of paperwork I don’t want to do."
The door slams shut behind them.
I stare at Logan, chest heaving. The reality of my situation crashes down on me. I wasn't just trapped by the storm. I was trapped by him.
"You blocked the road," the realization makes my knees weak. "Even if the snow melted yesterday, I wasn't leaving."
Logan stalks toward me. Terrifying. Beautiful. "No."
"That’s kidnapping, Logan!"
"It’s claiming," he corrects, reaching out to cup my face. His hands are rough, calloused, large enough to crush my skull, but he holds me with terrifying gentleness. "You felt it. I know you did. The second I saw you. The second I touched you. You’re mine. My woman. My Old Lady."
"I barely know you!" I shout, pulling away. I back up until my hips hit the counter. "I don't know your middle name. I don't know your birthday. I just know you’re in a motorcycle club andyou... you have guns and people who talk about killing rescue workers like it’s paperwork!"
"Club," he growls, stepping into me again, caging me against the wood. "It’s a club. And you know the only thing that matters. You know how my hands feel on your skin. You know how my cock feels inside you. You trust me, Savannah. Your body trusts me even if your brain is panicking."
"That’s lust!" I cry, tears pricking my eyes. "You can’t build a life on that."
"Watch me."
He grabs my waist, lifting me effortlessly onto the counter. I gasp, hands landing on his shoulders to steady myself. He steps between my spread thighs, the denim of his jeans rough against my bare skin. The friction sends a jolt of arousal straight to my core, betraying me instantly.
"Logan, stop," I plead, though my voice lacks conviction. "I have a family. My mother calls me every Sunday. My boss expects an article on Tuesday. I can't just vanish."
"You’re not vanishing," he says, leaning in until his nose brushes mine. His eyes are molten gold, burning with an intensity that threatens to consume me. "You’re just changing worlds. You think that life out there matters? The deadlines? The traffic? The people who don't see you?"
He grips my chin, forcing me to look at him. "I see you, Savannah. I saw you in that snowstorm, and I saw the part of you that was waiting for this. For a man who wouldn't ask permission to take care of you. A man who would burn the world down to keep you warm."
"You're crazy," I whisper, a tear spilling over my cheek.
"I am," he agrees, licking the tear away. His tongue is hot, rough. "I’m crazy for you. I’m obsessed. I tried to be gentle, Savannah. I tried to go slow. But if you try to leave this mountain, I will hunt you down. I will drag you back. And I won't be gentle the next time."
The threat hangs in the air, heavy and erotic. My heart pounds so hard it hurts. This is madness. This is the kind of thing you read about and scream at the girl to run away from.
But I’m not running. My fingers curl into the fabric of his Henley.
"I need to call my mom," I say, voice trembling. "She worries."
Logan stares at me, jaw ticking. Then, slowly, the dark fury recedes, replaced by that overwhelming, crushing possessiveness.
"Call her," he says. He reaches behind him, grabs the phone Austin left on the table, and presses it into my hand. "Tell her you met someone. Tell her you’re safe."
"And the job?"
