Her Broken Alpha Prince (Book 18 of The Regal Eclipse Pack Series)

Chapter 28

Clara let her gaze trail down to the ass of the strange man who had appeared on her property this afternoon. He filled out those jeans nicely, and she couldn't help but admire him.

She'd already been admiring the rest of him. The man didn't have an ounce of fat on him. Instead he was nicely muscled, his skin tan and below the beard, he looked like he could be a model.

It had been quite some time since she'd spent any real time with a man she wasn't related to, living out here in the middle of nowhere. And generally they didn't appear out of the woods, looking like they'd been living in a cave for the last couple of years. Or sounding like it. His voice had sounded hoarse from disuse at first, making her wonder how long it had been since he'd last spoken to anyone. Maybe he was a recluse.

She wanted to ask him questions about what he'd been up to and she wasn't even sure why. It was none of her business. She highly doubted he'd tell her anything anyways. She wouldn't if it was her. Plus the more she thought about it the more she wasn't sure she really wanted to know. It was better if she didn't.

He'd triggered one of the sensors on her property, alerting her to his presence. She'd opened her phone and watched him approach on the game cameras, then slipped around behind him with her rifle to find out what he wanted. She'd half hoped he'd move on, but he hadn't.

He'd stopped, staring at her house and she watched his head move to her clothesline before his shoulders sagged a bit. Maybe he'd been telling the truth when he told her he was just looking to steal a shirt. She did have one he could have, then, she wanted him out of there.

She knew he wasn't armed. She'd made that assessment right away. The biggest threat from him would be his ability to overpower her. And judging by those lean muscles of his, she had no doubt that he could if he wanted to. Which was why her gun would stay between them while she kept her focus fully on him.

He stopped before going up her steps, and she watched him look around before he turned to face her.

Clara stopped as well, eyeing him cautiously and watching for any sudden movement. He seemed fairly relaxed though. "Wait here." She walked around him, and started up the steps, keeping her eyes on him the entire time.

He took a few steps back from her, putting some distance between them. "Lock the door behind you," he told her.

She stopped, shooting a glare at him. "Do I need to worry about you?" 

His face remained impassive. "I won't touch you, but someone else might. Just keep yourself safe."

She nodded and walked inside the house, closing and locking the door behind her. She sighed as she leaned against it for a long moment, then turned and peered back out the window, half hoping he was gone.

But he wasn't. Instead, he was standing there looking off to the side, seemingly lost in thought.

She breathed out slowly, then hurried upstairs and into her father's old bedroom. She threw open the closet and began to look through the clothes, finally pulling out a T-shirt and a pair of sweats. She found some of her father's old boots and hoped they fit him.

Clara's father was long gone. He'd passed away two years ago. He wouldn't need any of those items. Her uninvited guest looked like he desperately needed them. She wondered how the heck he'd lost his shirt and shoes. At least he has his jeans but they weren't in the best of shape. She was surprised he didn't have sunburn.

She headed across the hall into the guest bathroom and threw open the closet, grabbing a couple of travel items. Shampoo, a toothbrush and toothpaste, a comb. He looked like he needed his hair combed. Her lips twitched.

She wondered if he normally sported a beard and his hair that long. What did he look like underneath it all? He did have pretty eyes. She'd noticed that. She had a feeling he was a pretty good looking man underneath it all.

She tossed everything into a small bag and then grabbed her rifle before heading back downstairs. She stopped at the door, peering out. She wanted to make sure she knew exactly where he was at before she unlocked the door and walked back out there.

He was gone. She sighed, frowning as a wave of disappointment hit her, then she frowned remembering that she'd hoped he would be gone when she came back out. But then a loud crack echoed through the clearing, followed a moment later by another. Her eyes widened. She recognized that sound. Was he doing what she thought he was?

She moved over to another window and looked out. He was standing off to the side chopping wood. Good and bad, because she did appreciate the help but at the same time, now he had a weapon. Was he an ax murderer?

But if he was, she was there for it. If there was a TV show on wood chopping that he stared in, she'd totally watch it. He was mesmerizing, the way his muscles rippled every time he moved. She could stand there and watch him all day. It was much more interesting than doing it herself.

She'd been chopping wood when she'd been alerted to his presence on her land. She hated chopping wood. But it was a necessary evil.

Clara slung the bag over her shoulder, and gripped her rifle a bit tighter, then opened the front door. The crack of splitting wood sounded through the clearing again and she watched him look up. He sat the ax down and moved away from it, heading back her way, though he didn't come up the stairs. "You left me a weapon." He said it in such an accusatory way, she wanted to laugh.

Instead, she lifted her chin at him. "Do you travel the countryside showing women where the holes in their security are?"

His beard twitched and he reached up and rubbed at it, like he found it rather annoying. "Frankly, if I had any desire to kill you, you'd be dead." He wasn't looking at her now, but staring at the ground.

She wondered what he was thinking. He wasn't that old, she realized. He probably was close to her own age. The more she studied him, the more she could see it underneath all of that hair of his. "There are things worse than death," she argued, stepping off the porch.

He lifted his gaze to hers, his beautiful blue eyes taking her in. "If I wanted you underneath me, I'd seduce you first." He said it in such a way, she realized he meant it. 

The images his words produced made her blush and she decided to change the subject before she said something stupid. "I brought you some things."

His eyes flickered in surprise as she held the bag out to him. He reached out and took it from her. "Thank you."

She nodded. At least he had manners, but then he actually seemed pretty decent.

"I'll finish chopping your wood and be on my way," he said quietly.

"I appreciate it. I hate doing it," she told him truthfully. 

He headed back over to the wood. There was a lot of it and she knew it would take him hours to do it all. Not that she expected him to. She was going to have to make him some food. It was only right after he did the backbreaking work for her. She honestly wondered when he'd last had a meal.

Clara headed back inside her house, and set to work to make some food for them both. She'd been living on her own since her father passed. Her mother had died when she was young, leaving her in his care and he'd raised her as a tomboy.

Thoughts of selling this place had crossed her mind more than once. It was too much for her to take care of, and she would probably do so, but it was also a lot of work to move, and that didn't thrill her either. She sort of hated to sell. Her father had loved this place. But unless she found herself a husband,or hired someone, it was really too much work for her.

Her thoughts drifted out to the man chopping her wood. Was he single? She scoffed. She didn't know anything about him. He still might be an ax murderer. A hot ax murderer.