She had moved to the mountain gradually. At first it was a weekend away camping in a tent on the north side of Harris Creek. The weekends turned into weeks, weeks into a month and when a month was no longer enough, she took a sabbatical from work for the summer. She never returned.
She hadn't set out in life to be a recluse; the lullaby of the mountain, however, sang to her more strongly than any siren of the city. She'd begun to think it was inevitable, but held not one regret.
No one knew how she made a living; it was assumed she was some kind of heiress or eccentric millionaire. She was seen in town from time to time as she stocked up on supplies. It was rumored she was intoxicatingly beautiful, but who could give credence to rumors? She was private and withdrawn, living her life on a secluded mountain of which she was extremely protective.
No Trespassing
and
Private Property
signs marked every thinkable entrance and exit to her property. And as with most eccentrics, people stayed away from what they could not understand; it afforded her the privacy after which she sought.
James Brogan hadn't heard the stories about the exquisitely beautiful recluse. He didn't know about her eccentricities or her need for solitude. He'd come to the mountain for purely selfish reasons: to regain some inner balance, to leave behind the man he was becoming in an attempt to become the man he wanted to be.
He had decided long ago not to play by society's rules. He hadn't gotten to be what he was today by playing nice; too many times he'd witnessed the nice guys finishing last. It was that attitude that had him ignoring the
No Trespassing
signs as he hiked through the forest in pursuit of something ...interesting. Elusive. He wasn't sure what; just something he hadn't yet experienced. Something to remind him he was a man at the core, something to remind him he was not just another corporate machine.
He stumbled upon the spring almost by accident. He'd been lost in thoughts of the business world he'd left behind when he cleared the brush and nearly stepped in the water. He stopped and looked around him, an appreciative smile spreading across his features. The spring was like something he'd read about in a novel long ago. He could see where someone had built up a small retaining wall of stones to catch more of the water as it cascaded over a small rock ledge; it effectively created a pool deep enough to bathe in. James squatted down on his haunches, lured by the water to draw his hand through it. He was surprised by its warmth and quickly surmised it must be a natural hot spring. He glanced up at the fall of water as it trickled down over the small cliff. It was just enough of a drop that James could fit underneath it. After traipsing through the forest for the past couple of hours, the spring was too inviting to resist.
But should he undress, here? Out in the open?
Why not?
he thought.
I haven't seen anyone for hours.
Besides, there was something about being naked in nature that suddenly appealed to James. It was as if by shedding his clothing he would be shedding all ties to civilization, reverting back to his instinctual self where primal needs demanded to be met. And if there was one thing James needed at this moment in time it was to feel more alive, more real, more
himself
than he'd been in more years than he could count.
_____________________________________________
Having lived in the woods these past few years, Emma had become attuned to the forest around her. She could sense when the first frost would hit, when it would rain and when it would only threaten to rain. She knew the paths the deer followed to drink from the creek each night. She knew where the elk bedded down and she knew, without hesitation, when someone disturbed her closely-guarded privacy. She sensed it, somehow, though she'd never exactly felt threatened till now.
She'd made her way silently through the forest down the path that led from her cabin to the spring,
her
spring. At the last minute she'd grabbed her hunting rifle -though she'd never had cause to use it before now- but somehow she felt threatened in a way she'd never felt threatened before. Who or what was disturbing her peace?
She heard the tell-tale sounds of another human presence before she even reached the spring. It angered her that someone would so easily trespass when she'd clearly marked her property as private. This was one of the things that had driven her to the woods —the lack of respect in the supposedly "civilized" world. She was angry enough she wanted to step through the brush and confront whoever had stolen her privacy away when suddenly, she caught a glimpse of naked flesh poised beneath the waterfall as it tumbled over the small cliff.
Dear God,
she thought, as her eyes widening in awe. Before her stood a man that was more
man
than any other she'd ever seen. She blinked once, twice, but the apparition would not go away. It almost hurt to watch him, to behold what had to be the most perfect body she'd ever seen: He was tall, very tall. His head nearly touched the ceiling of the outcropping where the water fell; she couldn't even touch it while standing on her tip toes, yet this man nearly bumped it with his head.
His hair was dark, made even darker by the water as it trickled over his head and down his face. And oh, what a face! Clean shaven, but with the slightest darkness under the skin as if he had a perpetual 5 o'clock shadow. She couldn't see what color eyes he had as his lids were closed; she did notice the impossible thickness of his dusky lashes, however. His jaw was square and strong, with a slight cleft in his chin that drew her attention as the water continued to flow over his body.
His shoulders were broad and thick. He was muscled, but not overly so; more like the muscles attained from hard physical labor, not the too-sculpted muscles obtained from hours at the gym pawing free weights. There was a dark smattering of hair on his chest that caught droplets of water and made them sparkle and shine with each subtle turn of his body as he enjoyed his shower. His abdomen was flat, with hair arrowing down to his-
Dear GOD!
she thought. If possible, her eyes widened even more.
That cannot possibly be... Oh. My. God.
One after another her thoughts vied for precedence though only one reigned supreme: Huge. He was huge. Impossibly huge. Hung like the proverbial horse. The kind of huge that romance novels exonerate. The kind of huge that would
easily
