Everything within her screamed at her to run, but she couldn’t leave the man unprotected. Her gun was behind the bear, well out of reach. Glancing around, she searched for anything that might serve as a weapon. Maybe if she could scare it away, she still might have a chance at getting help for the injured guy.
Crouching down, she grabbed a stick and quickly stood up again, holding it like a baseball bat. A wave of nausea washed over her as the dizziness intensified. The cold sank into her bones as her sweater absorbed the heavy wet snow that continued to fall. For the first time, she began to wonder if she’d make it out of these woods alive. It would certainly solve Noah’s problem if she didn’t, she thought with a near-hysterical giggle.
The bear cocked its head to the side and looked at her, then behind her at the injured man.
Keeping herself between the man and the bear, she took a swing at the bear and cracked it in the head, hoping to scare it off. It didn’t work. Growling, it grabbed the end of the stick and splintered it before wrenching it from her hands. With a shriek, she dove for the gun, brushing against the bear as she rolled through the wet snow. She gripped it with aching fingers and pointed it at the animal. At this range, she should be able to kill it, but if she aimed wrong, she’d just piss it off, and that was the last thing she needed.
“I don’t want to shoot you, but I can’t let you hurt him.”
She squeezed the trigger and fired a warning alongside its head.
The bear reached out and grabbed the barrel of the gun and pushed it toward the ground. She tried to wrench it from its grasp, but the animal held fast as it sank to all fours. All at once, the animal began to writhe and the nauseating sounds of joints popping and bones snapping filled the air. As she watched, the furry pelt receded, revealing smooth, burnished copper skin stretched over tight, lean muscles. Her breath stalled in her chest as a naked man rose, long dark hair partially covering his face, but she’d know those eyes anywhere.
“Hello, Gwen.”
She stumbled backward, tripping over the remainder of the branch she’d used to smack the bear…no…Noah…upside the head. She had to be dreaming. She didn’t know everything about black bears, but she was positive that they didn’t change into people at will. The lightheadedness she’d been fighting since hitting her head against the window stormed back with a vengeance. Her eyes drifted closed, replacing the crazy images with blessed darkness. Maybe if she rested a while, the world would make more sense when she woke up.
A warm hand cupped her cheek. “Gwen, c’mon sweetheart. I need you to stay with me. I need your help.”
Forcing her eyes open, she saw Noah—still naked—squatting in front of her. Oh God, was he ever naked.
“I need you to help me get Quinn home. And you’ve got to get out of this weather, too. You’re freezing.”
“Who’s Quinn?” she mumbled.
He jerked his head toward the man lying in the snow behind him. “My cousin.” Noah stood, and tugged her to her feet.
“I’m having a hypothermia induced hallucination,” she muttered.
“You’re going to have a hypothermia induced death if we don’t get you someplace warm, soon.
She frowned at him. “Says the naked man wandering through the snow.”
“It’s not how I’d prefer to be wandering around tonight.” He shrugged. “But it seemed like a better plan than getting shot.”
Gwendolyn’s head spun with the implications of what he’d just said. She hadn’t imagined him transforming from a bear to a man. “What are you?” she asked, almost afraid of the answer.
“I’ll explain. Just help me get him out of the cold first.
“Okay.”
He moved to his cousin’s side and propped his cousin into a sitting position.
“Wait! You shouldn’t move him. You could make his injuries worse.”
Noah shook his head. “As soon as he shifted back to his human form, he began to heal.”
She stared at him skeptically, until he leaned forward and scooped up a handful of snow and used it to wipe away the blood from his leg.
“See? It’s not bleeding anymore.”
It was true. A huge bruise marred his flesh, but the torn skin was gone. She couldn’t believe it, but it was no more bizarre than anything else she’d seen tonight. Noah motioned for her to pick up Quinn’s legs as he lifted him from under his arms. Walking backward, he led them through the dense forest as they slowly made their way over fallen logs and thick stands of oak, pine, and birch.
The wind whipped icy snow into Gwendolyn’s eyes and they watered, freezing the tears on her lashes and cheeks. The frigid air burned her lungs as they hefted Quinn’s unconscious form through the night.
The snow was so heavy she couldn’t make out any of the obstacles in front of them. She had no idea how Noah managed to avoid them—while walking backward, no less. Hell, she wasn’t convinced they weren’t trudging in circles, but he seemed to know where he was going. Eventually, the dull glow of lighted windows in the looming shadow of a large cabin came into view.
Noah urged her to move faster as he backed up the rough-hewn stairs to the house. “Careful, they might be a little slippery.”
Still holding Quinn’s legs, she climbed steadily to the porch. Noah kicked at the door with the back of his heel. The door flew open and they stumbled into a brightly lit kitchen.
A third man, by his appearance, another relative of Noah’s, looked the three of them over as he pushed shut the door behind them. “Awkward.”
“Shut up, Lucas,” Noah growled. “Turn down Quinn’s bed and crank up the electric blanket.”
“Aye-aye, Captain Crankyass.”
Gwendolyn snorted, trying and failing to stifle it as Noah’s gaze swung to meet hers. “This way,” he grunted as he led her through the rustic cabin.
They carried Quinn’s deadweight down a dim hallway before turning to the right into a decent sized bedroom. After laying Quinn into the bed and tugging the covers over his body, Noah pulled down several quilts from the top shelf of a closet and spread them over the bed.
“What happened?” Lucas asked.
“I hit him,” she admitted through chattering teeth. “I couldn’t stop in time.” Tears clogged her throat. “I’m so sorry.”
“He’ll be okay. We—he heals really fast.”
She looked at Lucas. “Are you one too?”
He glanced toward Noah. She saw him nod from the corner of her eye. “We’re all shifters,” Lucas said.
“You’re what—some kind of werebears?” she asked, hysteria threatening to swamp her now that everyone was out of immediate danger. Except maybe her.
Noah saw the panicked light fill Gwen’s eyes. “It’s as good a name as any other,” he said softly.
Gently, he took her arm and led her from Quinn’s bedroom into the hallway, but she tried to pull free.
“Look, I should go. Can I use your phone? I just need to call for a tow, and then I’ll be out of your hair. It’ll just take a sec.”
“Gwen, stop.”
She looked at him, her dark green eyes wide.
He tugged her into his room and gently pushed her into a chair. “First thing, first. You’re cold and wet and you need to get into some dry clothes before you do anything else. You can’t go outside again until you warm up.” He pulled two pair of flannel pajama pants from his drawer and set one pair on the corner of the bed next to Gwen, then quickly stepped into the other pair. Opening another drawer, he removed a thermal shirt and placed that on top of the pants.
She pushed out of the chair, her teeth still chattering. “I’ll be fine. Really.” Her wet hair was plastered to her head, and blood seeped from a cut on her left temple.
“Think about it, Gwen. No one is going to come out in this weather. Well, they might, but do you really want to risk their lives in this kind of a storm?” He wielded guilt like a master—his mother would be so proud.
She slowly shook her head and sank onto th
e chair.
“Lucas is going to get your stuff,” he said loud enough for the other man to hear. “And he’s going to bring it back here. In the meanwhile, you get into these dry clothes, and I’ll make you a cup of tea and fix up that gash on your head. Okay?”
She nodded slowly, but didn’t move other than to lift her fingers to her head, frowning when they came away stained with blood. Great, she was going into shock.
He sank to the floor at her feet and began unlacing her boots. Lucas stood by the door, wearing his boots and parka. “Where am I going?”
“Follow our tracks until you come to the blood. There’s a shotgun and a flashlight there somewhere. After you find them, follow the trail of blood back to the jeep, grab whatever stuff she has in there, and make sure it’s locked up before you leave.
Lucas nodded. “Got it.”
Noah barely noticed the outer door open and shut as he pulled Gwen’s boots off her frigid feet.
“I can do that,” she murmured, moving as though she was about to stand.
“No, you can stay here and get into some warm clothes so you don’t get sick.” He peeled her socks off and briskly rubbed her feet.
She winced as the circulation increased and rested her head against the wall, closing her eyes.
He replaced her damp socks with a pair of wool ones from the clean laundry basket beside the bed.
“C’mon, Gwen. You’ve got to get the rest of these wet clothes off.”
“I’ll do it in a minute,” she said groggily.
Worry skittered through him. Did she have a concussion? He needed to keep her talking and engaged. He tugged her to her feet. “Nope. Later isn’t going to work for me. Gotta get you warm and dry now.”
She wobbled for a minute before gripping his shoulders with her icy fingers. “You’re just as bossy outside of work.”
“I try.” Despite the chill of her skin, he wanted her touch. He wanted to feel her hands all over his body. He wanted to lay her back in his bed and warm her in the most primal way possible. Hell, he’d wanted to do that and a helluva lot more since she’d walked into his office three months ago.
With her short stature and her long blonde hair pulled back in braids, she’d looked almost like a kid—until she’d taken her coat off. There was nothing childlike about her full hips and breasts. Nothing childlike about the way she watched him when she thought he was oblivious. And certainly nothing childlike about the scent of her arousal as it had drifted to him while they were on the cub drop earlier that day.
He shook off the memory of riding with her and focused on the present. He shifted his hands to her waist and unbuttoned her jeans. As dispassionately as he could, he pulled down the zipper tab, hooked his thumbs inside the waistband and tugged the damp denim over her hips. The backs of his thumbs brushed over her silky skin and the lace of her panties. Her dark blue panties.
He tried not to stare at the scant amount of fabric covering her pussy or inhale her sweet scent. It wasn’t working.
“This isn’t how I imagined you taking off my pants,” she mumbled, still shivering violently.
His cock jerked at her words. “You imagined me taking off your pants?” He yanked the jeans from her body and grabbed the flannel pajama pants off the bed. He needed to get her covered up as fast as possible. For her warmth and his sanity.
Shaking them out, he urged her to lift one foot then the other as he slid them up her legs before pulling the drawstring snugly around her waist and tying it. They were too big for her, but they covered her sweetly rounded ass and that was really all that mattered right now.
She stripped off her coat and sweater, exposing her lace-covered breasts to his grateful gaze. His mouth watered at the sight of her braids brushing across her tightly puckered nipples. What he wouldn’t give to lean forward and taste them. His cock throbbed to life at the thought of that crinkled flesh hardening further against his tongue.
She grabbed the folded shirt from the corner of the bed and pulled it over her head, hiding her body from view. Disappointment and relief collided as her pale, soft skin was covered by textured cotton. Her teeth chattered as she rubbed her arms. Her eyes seemed a little clearer and her focus sharper.
He stood, hoping she hadn’t noticed his erection, and offered her his hand. “Why don’t you let me take a look at that bump on your head?”
She placed her slender hand in his and stood, slightly unsteady on her feet. He slipped an arm around her and led her to the kitchen. He sat her at the kitchen table before heading to the bathroom for the first aid kit. When he returned, her head had lolled to the side and she looked like she’d drifted to sleep.
“Hey, wake up, sleeping beauty.”
Her eyes fluttered open and she frowned at him.
“I know you’ve got to be pretty tired after the adrenaline roller coaster, but I need you to stay with me.”
He shined a penlight in her eyes. Both pupils were the same size and reactive. A good sign. Using a damp cloth, he sponged away the drying blood around the cut on her temple.
He frowned. “Looks like you smacked the window pretty good.”
“Yeah. I’m kinda wishing I’d sprung for the side airbags right about now.”
She winced as he wiped at the seeping area.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
She frowned. “I don’t have a concussion.”
“What’s your name?”
She rolled her eyes. “Gwendolyn Elizabeth Locke.”
“What’s the date?”
“Seriously?” Annoyance flashed in her gaze.
“What’s the date?”
“January nineteenth,” she said with a sigh.
“Are you feeling nauseated?”
“No.”
“Seeing spots or having double vision?”
“No and no.”
“Dizzy?”
She paused briefly. “A little, but I did just hit my head.”
“Headache?”
“Nothing a few Advil and a nap won’t cure.”
She was certainly sounding more like herself. Gently, he smoothed her hair back and dabbed hydrogen peroxide on the cut. He turned her face while he inspected the wound. “I can butterfly suture it, but it might leave a little scar.”
She shrugged. “Better than a big one.”
He leaned closer trying to affix the suture tape, but the angle was wrong. Scooting forward, he pulled her chair closer until his thighs bracketed hers and her knees nearly brushed his groin. She glanced down, then up at his face, then looked away completely, her cheeks flushed a healthy shade of pink. Embarrassment wasn’t quite the method he preferred for getting her blood flowing, but it worked. Cupping her face, he angled her head to the position he needed and carefully applied the suture strips.
With his hands on her face and her lips so close, it was impossible not to imagine kissing her. Even with the bruises that were beginning to form on the side of her face, she was still gorgeous. Not in a traditional sense. Her eyes were almost too big for her face and her mouth too small above that pointy chin, but when she looked at him, all he could focus on was how fucking much he wanted her. But he couldn’t think about that now—not with her knees grazing his still-hard cock and her tempting lips mere inches away.
As he was applying the last suture, the door opened and the icy wind swirled around them as Lucas stomped the snow off his boots.
“I think you’d have more luck with that if you both took off your pants and switched positions,” Lucas announced. “It’s a better fit that way.”
Noah sighed. “Don’t be an ass.” He turned to look at Gwen. “Ignore him.”
A surprised giggle escaped her, and he realized he’d never really heard her laugh before. Annoyance flared in him that he hadn’t been the one to make her laugh. His cousin had.
Lucas set her computer, purse and several bags of groceries on the table and extended his hand to her. “I’m Lucas Makwa. Captain Crankyass’ cousin.”
/> She shook his hand. “I’m Gwendolyn Locke, Noah’s co-worker.”
Lucas’ eyes widened and he turned to face Noah. “This is Goldilocks? From work?” His incredulousness was impossible to miss.
Noah didn’t even have to look at Gwen to know that her eyes were narrowed and her lips were pressed together in a tight line. He’d seen that expression often enough since they’d begun working together.
“Goldilocks?” she repeated, her voice deadly calm.
He couldn’t deny it. He’d called her that. More than once. On days when she’d pissed him off beyond belief. There was nothing he could say in his defense, so he just nodded.
“And now I’m snowed in with the three little bears?”
“Hey. I’m not little,” Lucas protested.
She didn’t spare a glance for the other man and instead held Noah’s gaze.
“Pretty much,” Noah answered her question. Before she could say anything else, he stood. “Lucas, will you make Gwen a cup of tea? I’m going to check on your brother.” Not giving either of them a chance to respond, he left the room, taking the first aid kit with him.
Quinn was healing rapidly. By the time he woke tomorrow, he’d be mostly pain free. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do with Gwen. The snowstorm was supposed to last through the weekend. They could easily get another eighteen to twenty-four inches.
He sighed as he put away the first aid kit and got out the Advil for Gwen. It wasn’t the weather as much as what she might do with her newfound information about them. He knew her well enough to realize that as soon as she could think more clearly, she’d want to know every last detail about shape-shifters. She was a damn good biologist and her scientific curiosity and intelligence was one of the reasons he’d agreed to her transfer to his station in the first place.
Funny that those same traits had become such a pain in his ass. Of course, taking her to bear sites would have been fine if he hadn’t been guiding his cousins through their first change. At twenty-five, they’d only reached shifter maturity in the last couple of months. Having a smart biologist poking around while they were getting their bear-feet under them was not what he’d needed. But that’s definitely what he’d gotten. What were the odds?
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