Stolen by the Mountain Man (Rugged Heart #3) Read Online Aria Cole

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary Tags Authors: Series: Rugged Heart Series by Aria Cole
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Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27018 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
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He steps closer, his grin deepening, a wicked gleam lighting his eyes. “Can’t help it. You’re kind of hard to look away from.”

The words hit me harder than I expect, a flicker of heat sparking low in my stomach. I know I should look away, but something about the challenge in his eyes keeps me locked in place. I force myself to keep my voice steady, even though my pulse is anything but.

“Focus, Hunter,” I say, trying to sound firm.

His grin only widens. “Is that what you’re trying to do? Focus?” He leans in, his presence suddenly overwhelming. “Because from where I’m standing, you look a little…flustered.”

I swallow hard, my heart hammering in my chest. His scent—wood smoke and something darkly masculine—invades my senses, making it nearly impossible to think. I grit my teeth, determined not to let him see how much he affects me.

“Just teach me how to find the damn water,” I snap, frustration mixing with something hotter.

Hunter’s gaze darkens, shifting from playful to something more primal. He doesn’t back off; instead, he reaches for my hand, his rough fingers surprisingly gentle as they guide mine to the trunk of a nearby tree.

“Feel that?” he asks, his voice low, husky.

I shiver at the contact, the warmth of his skin searing into mine.

“The moss?” I manage to ask, my voice barely steady.

His eyes stay on mine, unyielding. “Yeah. It grows thicker on the side that’s closest to the water source.”

His hand lingers on mine, and the world seems to shrink until it’s just us. The forest around us goes silent, the air heavy with unspoken tension. I can feel his breath, warm and steady, and my own comes in short, uneven bursts. It’s like every nerve in my body is suddenly on edge, acutely aware of how close he is.

His thumb brushes against my wrist, a small, deliberate caress. “Lark,” he murmurs, his voice rough, uncertain. “If I’m making you uncomfortable…”

I shake my head, my throat tight. “You’re not.”

The intensity of his gaze deepens, and his grip on my hand tightens just a fraction. “Good,” he says, but there’s a promise in that single word—one that’s equal parts thrilling and dangerous. “You know–you’re a helluva lot more sassy than the women and families I lead to safety in Afghanistan. Where’s your sense of appreciation, Sugar?”

A grin lifts my lips before I can stop it. I shoot back: “Military man, huh? That explains a lot. Especially the bossy and controlling part.”

He laughs out loud then and I feel it all the way down to the tips of my toes.

“I like that about you–” his voice lowers an octave, “that you still challenge me even under these circumstances.” He lingers, eyes catching mine and I see a warmth there that I’m not used to. Then he steps back suddenly, breaking the moment, but not the charged energy between us. “Let’s find that water,” he says, his tone steady but still laced with heat.

We move forward, side by side, the tension between us palpable. I try to concentrate on my steps, but it’s hard when I can feel Hunter’s eyes on me, feel the weight of everything we’re not saying. When I trip over a root, he’s there in an instant, his hands steadying me at the waist.

“You need to watch your step,” he says, his voice rough, but his thumbs make small circles on my sides, sending sparks up my spine.

I try to sound annoyed, even though my body is anything but.

“I am watching,” I snap.

His lips twitch, amusement clear in his eyes. “Are you?” he challenges, his grip tightening slightly. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re not watching anything but me.”

The words make my heart stutter. My cheeks flush, and I try to cover my reaction with boldness.

“Maybe I just like the view,” I say, my voice a mix of defiance and something softer.

Hunter’s eyes darken, the playful spark shifting into something possessive. “Careful, Lark,” he warns, his tone low and edged with danger. “You keep talking like that, and I might start to think you’re tempting me on purpose.”

The air between us feels like it could ignite at any moment.

“And if I was?” I ask, my voice barely audible, a challenge wrapped in uncertainty.

His jaw clenches, a muscle ticking in his cheek. “Then I’d have to remind you what happens when you play with fire.”

A thrill runs through me, my body tightening in response. I lean in, my voice a whisper. “I think I can handle the heat.”

For a moment, it’s like all the air’s been sucked out of the forest. Hunter’s gaze is molten, his breathing heavy. I expect him to close the distance, but instead, he steps back abruptly, running a hand through his hair as if fighting for control.

“Damn it, Lark,” he mutters, frustration and desire raw in his voice. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”



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