Page 4 of Beastly Mountain Man

His gaze moved over the screens without lingering on anything private. “That setup looks more complicated than anything I’ve got in the maintenance office. You look like you know exactly what you’re doing with it.”

“With this, I do. I love the work. Ask me to fix a sink, though, and the hierarchy of human knowledge becomes very clear.”

He laughed, and the sound settled warm under my ribs, which was annoying.

A second thump came from the bedroom.

He exhaled. “I should probably introduce myself before my dog destroys your first evening. Lucius Ramsey. I manage the upper rental properties and grounds.”

So this was Lucius Ramsey. I stared at him long enough that his eyebrows lifted.

“You’re Lucius?”

“Unfortunately. I get that reaction a lot.”

That made me laugh before I could stop myself. “I’m sorry. The name in the property contacts gave me a very different mental picture.”

“Older?”

“Much older.”

He smiled fully then, and there went another small section of my concentration.

“You can call me Lucky.”

Of course he did.

Heat touched the base of my neck beneath the cashmere collar, and I became abruptly aware of his size again, the cold clean scent clinging to his jacket, and the roughness across his knuckles where one large hand rested loose at his side.

Lucius had sounded like an administrative inconvenience.

Lucky was a problem with shoulders.

A rapid clicking of nails came from the bedroom. Lucky’s attention snapped toward the hallway. “There he is.”

Bear rounded the corner at speed. I saw the pale blush color first. Then lace. Then the unmistakable shape of one of my favorite thongs hanging from the dog’s mouth.

“No.”

Bear wagged harder.

“Oh, no.”

Lucky went perfectly still. The retriever trotted toward us with the enormous satisfaction of an animal who had found treasure and expected praise for his initiative.

“Bear,” Lucky said, with the calm resignation of a man who had lived through previous negotiations. “Drop it.”

Bear did not drop it. Instead he shook his head. The lace tore with a tiny, horrifying sound.

I stepped backward on instinct, caught the edge of the rug with my heel, and suddenly Lucky was there. One arm came around my waist before I could hit the floor.

For a moment I was held against a body that was warm, solid, and much larger than mine. My breath shortened.

Lucky’s eyes met mine immediately. “You okay?”

“Yes.”

He let go at once. No lingering, no unnecessary fuss—just one steadying touch and then space again.