Prime Series Collection: (Broken Prime, Prime Desire, Mated Prime)
Tiffany Allee
Prime Series Collection
(Broken Prime, Prime Desire, Mated Prime)
Tiffany Allee
Contents
Broken Prime
Broken Prime
Prime Desire
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Epilogue
Mated Prime
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Epilogue
Claiming Their Royal Mate - Sneak Peek
Also by Tiffany Allee
About the Author
**For adults only. This is an erotic romance that contains material that is not suitable for children.**
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
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Copyright © 2014 and 2015 by Tiffany Allee. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means.
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Edited by Theresa Cole and Smashing Edits
Cover design by Fiona Jayde
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First Edition July 2015
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Broken Prime
When Evie loses her way in the woods during a terrible storm, she is determined not to die. But snow and darkness close in and all seems lost—until a stranger finds her. Warm and safe at his cabin, she can’t help notice how sexy her rescuer is, and things go from warm to scorching hot.
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But Nicolas lives alone on the mountain for a reason. And his secrets may be more dangerous to Evie than the cold.
Broken Prime
Evie Lane refused to die at twenty-one.
Panic pushed her pace to a jog, but though the whited-out landscape flew by faster, nothing looked familiar. Snow continued to fall, and she cursed loudly, blinking back tears that threatened to burn their way down her cheeks.
So stupid to tell the others to go ahead on their snowshoe trek. The sun had been out, the cabin smoke clearly visible in the sky, and she hadn’t realized there was zero cell service to be found. If she’d done what she’d said, taken a few pictures and caught up with her friends a little ways down the trail, things would have been fine. But she’d gotten distracted. Found a few shots she couldn’t resist. Decided to wait a little longer until the sun was perfect in the sky, providing just the right angle to the light.
And then the sun disappeared.
The storm rolled in so quickly, she’d barely noticed the first cloud on the horizon before the entire sky blotted out. She’d trudged on, even as snow started to fall, in the same direction the other girls had gone. When it got too dark to really see where she was going, she’d relied on their trail in the snow. Then the fresh snow piled high so fast that the trail disappeared, and she wasn’t even sure she was headed the right direction.
She forced a deep breath, then shivered violently. The air was cold, and her feet colder. She’d lost a glove at some point when she was still taking pictures, and her pocket didn’t seem to do much to keep out the chill.
Exhaustion seeped into her as she slowed to a walk.
“Help!” she yelled—or tried to. Her voice was wispy and thin after hours of calling out for her friends.
She crumpled in front of a tree and leaned against the solid wood, putting her face between her knees.
So tired.
The angry howl of the wind around her seemed to insulate her from the world, and for a while, time stood still. Regret filled her. She should have listened to her parents, gone with them to Europe. Might have been stressful, watching them try not to fight in front of her the whole time, but it would have been safe. Heck, she could have stayed at the dorm, used her break to study.
She’d wanted an adventure.
“Hey. Hey?”
Someone shook her, dragging her back into reality. She opened her eyes. The area around her was almost as dark as the one behind her eyelids. But she could make out a form, large and human-shaped, kneeling in front of her.
“I’m going to pick you up. Take you somewhere warm.”
Her mind moved slowly, and it took a few moments before she comprehended his words. But before she could nod in reply, the man had swept her into his arms and was moving. And either her perception was really messed up because of the cold and her freezing state, or the man moved fast.
Even with the wind blowing hard around them, with her face buried against his jacket, she could smell him. Masculine and wild, he smelled like the forest before the snow. His jacket was too light for the weather, but he didn’t seem to have been caught unaware like she had. He strode with confidence, never pausing to find his way.
Minutes later, they arrived. The thud of the door shutting behind them roused her from her half-stupor, and delicious heat stung her nose.
The man brought her close to the source, holding her while she warmed. He pulled her camera off her neck, tugged her boots from her feet and rubbed them, then did the same with her hands. Gradually, the world came back into focus.
The only source of light seemed to be the wood stove that burned somberly, but it was clear he’d brought her to a cabin even tinier than the one she’d rented with her girlfriends for their winter break from college. Theirs was made to look rustic. This one really was rustic, if the low lighting was anything to judge it by.
But the heat was welcome, as was the rescue. She squirmed a bit in her rescuer’s arms, but he continued to rub her feet, his motions slow and smooth, his big hands soothing the cold away.
“How do you feel?” he asked, his delicious baritone rolling over her in a way that made her shiver again, but not from the cold. The snow and wind had obviously addled her brain, because no way was she getting a little turned on from the guy’s voice alone. Especially not in her current state. Some kind of weird effect from the shock of it all.
Wordlessly, he helped her to her feet.
“I’m fine, thanks to you.” To her surprise, her voice came out strong, if a bit raspy from yelling so much earlier. She flexed her fingers, and wiggled her toes. “Seem to still have all my limbs.”
The man pulled off his hat and the mask he’d worn to protect his face from the cold. “Luckily for you, it’s warm tonight.”
Words escaped her for a moment, as she took in the man who’d saved her. His size had been apparent, even in her frozen, panicked state, but while he peeled off his coat, she had a moment to appreciate the rest of him. Big, yes. Not more than a few years older than her—maybe late twenties at the most. Chestnut hair brushed his shoulders, and his equally dark eyes sparkled in the low light.
Suddenly, his words hit her. “Warm? You call that warm?”
He chuckled, a sexy sound that filled the room. “Warm enough to snow.”
Whatever that meant. “Didn’t feel too toasty to me.”
“Like you said, you’ve got your fingers and your toes. What I can’t figure out is what an obvious city girl like you is doing all by herself in the mountains, freezing to death on my land.
”
Heat crawled up her cheeks. “I didn’t know I was on your land. My friends and I, we’re renting a cabin,”—she waved vaguely—“somewhere around here. We’re on our winter break, thought it would be fun to come out here, hike around. Do a little skiing.” Mostly they’d wanted to hit on hot skier guys, but that hadn’t worked out so well since most of the snow bums they’d run into at the out-of-the-way ski resort had turned out to be less than panty-melting, and more stoners looking for women to buy them beer. That would teach them to book at the last minute, and to go somewhere not exactly known for catering to a lot of out-of-towners.
He snorted. “You wandered well off the path if you were headed for the rental cabins closer to the resort, city girl.”
His lack of seriousness about her near-death rankled. “Well, excuse me if I accidentally trespassed while trying not to die.”
“You’re excused.” He grinned. The expression took years off his face, and she mentally revised his age to a couple of years closer to her own.
“Well, thank you very much,” she replied, injecting as much sarcasm as she could into the words.
“You’re very welcome,” he said, still grinning.
She huffed at him and he laughed.
“Are you hungry, city girl?”
Her stomach rumbled in response. “It’s Evie.”
“I’ll warm us up some soup, Evie.” His gaze caught hers, and his amusement disappeared. “Evie,” he repeated, as if tasting her name. The moment was broken as he turned to tend the stove.
“What’s your name?” Maybe it was rude to ask anything of the man who’d already saved her life, but she couldn’t help it. She wanted to know way more about him than his name, actually, but she had to start somewhere.
“Nicolas,” he said. He didn’t turn around to face her. Instead, he lit a match, then used it to light what had to be a small oil lamp. She’d never seen such a thing outside of her great-grandmother’s house. And that was only because the cantankerous woman never threw anything away.
“Nicolas,” she repeated, under her breath. “I don’t suppose you have a phone here?”
“You don’t suppose right. Was it the oil lamp that gave my lack of technology away?”
Damn. The man had attitude. She liked that. Maybe this little excursion could be way more fun than she’d imagined. She was on vacation, after all—and she’d hoped to meet someone fun. Someone to spend a little time with, since her classes took nearly all of her time when she was home, and her family took the rest. Nicolas looked like a man a college senior could make some lasting memories with—heck, he looked like he could supply memories that might just get her through grad school, too.
While he made something that filled the cabin’s air with delicious scents, she stripped out of her winter gear, thankful her clothes beneath were still pretty dry. Now that her eyes had adjusted to the small amount of light from the stove and the oil lamp Nicolas had lit, she could see the true size of the place, and she hadn’t been mistaken about its rustic nature. One room, fairly small—no, two. A tiny room was framed off in one back corner. The bathroom? The wood stove took part of another wall, to the right of the entrance, next to the tiny kitchenette. A small window was the only thing that adorned the remaining wall—the sole window in the small building. It revealed little of the outside world. Just more snow and darkness. A couch and a small table with two chairs were the whole of his furniture, outside of the bed against the back wall.
She shivered, suddenly keenly aware of her predicament. Here she was, out in the middle of nowhere with a man who could wrestle her down with his pinky. If he had evil intentions, she was a goner. She couldn’t run, and fighting him would be laughable.
“Are you all right?”
The words came from close—too close—and she jumped a little. She turned and glared at the maybe-serial-killer.
“Way to sneak up on me.” She picked up her camera and removed the lens, then set both pieces closer to his front door where the wood stove’s heat wouldn’t reach them so readily.
“You looked worried.” He cocked his head to the side like a confused animal might. It was strangely endearing. “What is it?”
No, he didn’t intend her harm. Why would he save her only to kill her? Besides, he was a kind man—every instinct in her body said she could trust him. But she asked anyway. “You’re not a serial killer, right?”
He blinked. “What?”
“You heard me.” Yeah. Like he’d admit it if he was. Stupid.
“I’m not a serial killer. I haven’t killed anyone in months.” He paused, looking almost serious, then he smiled, melting something in her chest.
Damn, the man had a nice smile. She’d have to start fanning herself soon if he kept shooting those things her way. Instead, she laughed nervously. “Good.”
“Let’s eat, then.” He reached out, and after a brief moment of hesitation, she took his hand. His enveloped her own, but he held her lightly. A gentle giant.
After leading her back to the small table, he pulled out a chair for her. She sat, stomach fluttering from their brief touch.
The first bite of soup made her realize how hungry a few hours of hiking in freezing temperatures could make a person. Any ladylike veneer she’d hoped to maintain flew out the window, and she went through the stew like she hadn’t eaten in a week.
She felt his eyes on her the whole time. He watched her with a bemused expression. It should have been creepy to be stared at while she ate, but the humor and slight heat in his gaze didn’t make her uncomfortable. Although it did make her conscious of the fact that she was eating like a wild animal. After she slowed—her stomach finally catching on to the fact that it was full—he started in on his bowl, as if he’d waited to see her sated before taking care of himself.
“Don’t get a lot of guests, do you?” She pushed her enameled soup bowl away, resisting, just barely, the urge to lick it clean. Almost freezing to death totally justified a lack of table manners, but maybe not that big of a faux pas.
“Never.”
“That’ll teach you to live out in the middle of the woods.”
“Maybe I don’t like guests.” He quirked an eyebrow at her, daring her to disagree.
“You take awfully good care of the ones you do get for someone who doesn’t like people.”
He snorted. “What can I say? You’ve charmed me. Must be the way you slurp your soup.”
Throwing her napkin at his head, she tried to ignore the heat rushing up her neck at his comment. He just laughed and caught the napkin, then set it on the table.
“Okay, maybe I’m a little overdue for some company.” He hesitated. “It’s kind of nice…having someone around to talk to.”
The question was on the tip of her tongue. Why on earth did this beautiful man have no friends? Why was he in this cabin, all alone, in the middle of Nowhere, Colorado? It wasn’t like he was an old hermit—the guy had to be at least a few years shy of thirty. Yet here he was, as far away from civilization as a person could get in the modern age without going somewhere so inhospitable it would be difficult to live.
But there didn’t seem to be a nice way to ask all of that. It sounded insulting, and the last thing she wanted to do was offend the man who’d just saved her life, not to mention treated her so kindly afterward.
“I’m from California,” she said, deciding that changing the subject was the safest course of action.
“I can’t say that surprises me.”
“Was it the fact that I was alone, or the fact I got myself lost that clued you in?”
“Maybe it was your tan.” His teeth flashed, and she suddenly felt like Little Red Riding Hood—lost in the woods with only a wolf for company. A sexy wolf who she’d bet could do some very interesting things with his teeth.
A man who, if she didn’t miss her guess, was flirting with her. Nicolas had a definite twinkle in his eyes. What the hell? She was on vacation—why not explore a flirtation with a herm
it-like mountain man who happened to be sexy as hell? If nothing else, it would make an interesting memory. “For all you know, this tan ends at my neck.”
He leaned forward, eyes locked on hers, flirtatious yet intense. “Maybe I should check.”
She licked her lips. “Maybe you should.”
He opened his mouth, then his grin faltered. He shook his head and grabbed their bowls, then walked over to place them in the kitchenette’s sink. Without turning around, he said, “Better clean these up.”
“Sure,” she managed. A little hurt, and not totally sure what she’d done to change his mood, she got up from the table and headed for his couch. She plopped down and did her best not to fidget while she waited for him to finish washing the dishes.
“I stay out here because I have to, not because I dislike people.” He walked so silently, she hadn’t even noticed him approach until he moved directly into her sight line. Wiping his hands on a dishtowel, he looked at her with a grave expression on his face. “I wouldn’t want you to expect…anything.”
He sat down on the couch next to her, while she tried to absorb his words.
Wow. Where the heck was this guy from—and who did he think he was? “Look, just because I flirted with you a little bit doesn’t mean that I’m trying to get you to leave your mountain and join me in civilization. Don’t you think you’re taking this a little bit too seriously? We’re just talking.” The guy really needed to get out more.
“Are we?” His voice was a low rumble, and the sound of it touched something deep inside of her, making her belly clench and her breath come quicker. “Because you make me want to do a lot more than talk.”
“Oh?” She failed at breezy, and her voice came out just as nervous as she felt.
Something in the air changed, shifted. He leaned toward her, slowly, giving her a chance to move away. “Yes. And I think you want that, too.”
