CHAPTER 2
The salmon were everywhere, leaping from the water and right into the open maws of bears. But he ruled this piece of territory and those salmon were for him and him alone. He opened his mouth and a ten-pound one leaped right into it. Closing his jaws, he sighed in pleasure. Honey covered. He loved honey-covered salmon!
This was his perfect world. A cold river, happy-to-die-for-his-survival salmon, and honey. Lots and lots of honey…
What could ever be better? What could ever live up to this? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
A salmon swam up to him. He had no interest, he was still working on the honey-covered one. Yet the salmon insisted on staring at him intently…almost glaring.
“Hey!” it called out. “Hey! Can you hear me?”
Why was this salmon ruining his meal? He should kill it and save it for later. Or toss it to one of the females with cubs. Anything to get this obviously Philadelphia salmon to shut the hell up!
“Answer me!” the salmon ordered loudly. “Open your eyes and answer me! Now!”
His eyes were open, weren’t they?
Apparently not, because someone pried his lids apart and stared into his face. And wow, wasn’t she gorgeous?
“Can you hear me?” He didn’t answer, he was too busy staring at her. So pretty!
“Come on, Paddington. Answer me.”
He instinctively snarled at the nickname and she smiled in relief. “What’s the matter?” she teased. “You don’t like Paddington? Such a cute, cuddly, widdle bear.”
“Nothing’s wrong with cute pet names…Mr. Mittens.”
She straightened, her hands on her hips and those long, expertly manicured nails drumming restlessly against those narrow hips.
“Mister?” she snapped.
“Paddington?” he shot back.
She gave a little snort. “Okay. Fair enough. But call me Gwen. I never did get a chance to tell you my name at the wedding.”
Oh! He remembered her now. The feline he’d found himself daydreaming about on more than one occasion in the two months since Jess’s wedding. And…wow. She was naked. She looked really good naked…
He blinked, knowing he was staring at that beautiful, strong body. Focus on something else! Anything else! You’re going to creep her out!
“You have tattoos,” he blurted. Bracelet tats surrounded both her biceps. A combination of black shamrocks and a dark-green Chinese symbol he didn’t know the meaning of. And on her right hip she had a black Chinese dragon holding a Celtic cross in its mouth. It was beautiful work. Intricate. “Are they new?”
“Nah. I just covered up the ones on my arms with makeup, for the wedding. With my mother, I’d be noticed enough. Didn’t want to add to that.” She gestured at him with her hand. “Now we know I’m Gwen and I have tattoos…so do you have a name?”
“Yeah, sure. I’m…” He glanced off, racking his brain.
“You don’t remember your name?” she asked, her eyes wide.
“I know it has something to do with security.” He stared at her thoughtfully, then snapped his fingers. “Lock.”
“Lock? Your name is Lock?”
“I think. Lock. Lock…Lachlan! MacRyrie!” He glanced off again. “I think.”
“Christ.”
“No need to get snippy. It’s my name I can’t remember.” He nodded. “I’m pretty positive it’s Lock…something.”
“MacRyrie.”
“Okay.”
She gave a small, frustrated growl and placed the palms of her hands against her eyes. He stared at her painted nails. “Are those the team colors of the Philadelphia Flyers?”
“Don’t start,” she snapped.
“Again with the snippy? I was only asking.”
Lock slowly pushed himself up a bit, noticing for the first time that they’d traveled to a much more shallow part of the river. The water barely came to his waist. She started to say something, but shook her head and looked away. He didn’t mind. He didn’t need conversation at the moment, he needed to figure out where he was.
A river, that’s where he was. Unfortunately, not his dream river. The one with the honey-covered salmon that willingly leaped into his mouth. A disappointing realization—it always felt so real until he woke up—but he was still happy that he’d survived the fall.
Lock used his arms to push himself up all the way so he could sit.
“Be careful,” she finally said. “We fell from up there.”
He looked at where she pointed, ignoring how much pain the slight movement caused, and flinched when he saw how far down they were.
“Although we were farther upriver, I think.”
“Damn,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.
“How bad is it?”
“It’ll be fine.” Closing his eyes, Lock bent his head to one side, then the other. The sound of cracking bones echoed and when he opened his eyes, he saw that pretty face cringing.
“See?” he said. “Better already.”
“If you say so.”
She took several awkward steps back so she could sit down on a large boulder.
“You’re hurt,” he informed her.
“Yeah. I am.” She extended her leg, resting it on a smaller boulder in front of her and letting out a breath, her eyes shutting. “I know it’s healing, but, fuck, it hurts.”
“Let me see.” Lock got to his feet, ignoring the aches and pains he felt throughout his body. By the time he made it over to her, she opened her eyes and blinked wide, leaning back.
“Hey, hey! Get that thing out of my face!”
His cock was right there, now wasn’t it? He knelt down on one knee in front of her and said, “This is the best I can manage at the moment. I don’t exactly have the time to run off and kill an animal for its hide.”
“Fine,” she muttered. “Just watch where you’re swinging that thing. You’re liable to break my nose.”
Focusing on her leg to keep from appearing way too proud at that statement, he grasped her foot and lifted, keeping his movements slow and his fingers gentle. He didn’t allow himself to wince when he saw the damage. It was bad, and she was losing blood. Probably more blood
