To Tame a Bride

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“Right away...Ace,” she answered, the stiff stretch of lips she gave him hinting at an acid smile. She had the satisfaction of seeing a glint of reaction in his dark eyes, and let her lips stretch a fraction wider to signal how much she savored the little dig.

Feeling she’d avenged herself in some small way, she stepped over to sit on her large suitcase to change her shoes. By the time she’d worked the laces from the hiking boots, Line had packed everything but her net bag of clothing into his duffel bag.

Having second thoughts about the hiking boots—she hated being limited to one pair of shoes—she slipped them into the net bag.

And then Linc was walking away from her toward the trees on the other side of the meadow, his long stride rapidly putting distance between them.

In her rush to gather her purse and the net bag to catch up with him, Madison almost missed getting the small case that held her cosmetics and toiletries. She slung her purse strap over one shoulder, the cord of the net bag over the other, then picked up the small case to hurry after Linc.

She’d gone half a dozen steps before she managed to trip on a thick tuft of meadow grass and fall flat.

Line set a pace he knew was brutal for Madison. He wasn’t doing it to be cruel, but to hurry her along so fast that she’d pay more attention to keeping up with him than on the predicament they were in.

And he knew enough about her poison-pill personality to guess that her little “Ace” dig was the prelude to a major tirade on the subject of the crash. She had the potential to harangue him every step of the way if he gave her an opportunity.

He assumed the fastest course out of the mountains was to keep walking downhill. They needed to find a stream and a safe place to camp before dark. Once the sun dropped behind the western peaks they’d lose the light. Her Highness wouldn’t take that well at all.

At least they’d be able to start a fire. He had matches and a lighter, but they’d need water. They could miss a few meals, but they could only go so long without water. Finding a stream might also mean that they could catch some fish and solve the problem of food.

He glanced over his shoulder at Madison. She was still carrying that damned little suitcase. She’d crisscrossed her purse strap and the cord from the net bag over her chest to free her hands, but she carried the little suitcase as if it contained a bottle of nitroglycerin.

Maybe it did. It held enough cosmetics and grooming items to rival a makeup counter, as well as a small drugstore of over-the-counter medications. He’d seen women’s toiletries and personal care collections before, but Maddie’s put them all to shame. Who had time to use everything she carried with her?

And for what? Madison St. John was a natural beauty. She should have been able to wash her face, comb her hair and walk out of her mansion looking like a million bucks. Instead, she painted over her natural good looks as if she were trying to smuggle a troll out of the house.

He hadn’t made a fuss about her bringing the small case because he’d recognized that at least a few of the things in her collection might come in handy if they couldn’t find their way to civilization soon. He hoped for a ranger’s station, a private cabin or a hunting lodge with a telephone, but the chance of that was slim at best. He couldn’t guess at how many square miles of wilderness lay around them. Finding anyone else in so vast a place by accident would be impossible.