“Good. I like non-fussy clients.” She raised her glass to him. “Here is to a new start.”
“A new start.” He sipped some more of his wine. She’d called him a client, was that all he was to her? Could she feel the bond at all? If she couldn’t, it would make it far easier for her to walk away. “Why did you take me on?”
“As a client?”
He wanted to wince every time she used that word. “Yes. Why come to Bear Bluff?”
“The bears. Seriously. I had a friend, and that friend was a shifter. I was always so intrigued by him. We used to go out in the local woods and he would shift into a bear, and there was something about that. I don’t know, it was as if he was touched by magic.”
“What happened to him?”
“Nothing. He’s still living in my hometown. But he met his mate.” She smiled and then looked down at her plate.
“What?” he asked wanting to know every detail about her life.
“This all makes me sound like some sad woman who wanted to find herself a bear Prince Charming.” She took a bigger gulp of her wine. “One day he met his mate. And the look on his face… Sorry, you don’t want to hear about it.”
He sat up straighter, giving her his full attention. “I do. Please.”
“I don’t know how to explain it. He loved her, in an instant. I’ve always been in love with the idea of love at first sight…” She looked at him, with an unfathomable look. At least to anyone who wasn’t experiencing the exact same feeling as she was trying to explain.
“And you came here to see if you could find a man, a shifter, who was your mate?” He finished her sentence. “I can see the appeal.”
“You haven’t met your mate. Is that something that you crave?” Her question made him a liar. He had met his mate; she was here, right in front of him, and he couldn’t deny her, so he avoided the question entirely.
“Your friend. Were you in love with him?” Jordan asked.
“Donnie? God, no. We were best friends through school, played, fought, and studied together, but that was as deep as our relationship ever went.”
“Why?”
“Aren’t you the nosy one?” she asked. She looked down at her lap, and then placed her knife and fork down on her plate; he hoped he hadn’t ruined her appetite. “I’ll be honest, I liked him, but when he told me about the whole mate thing, I realized that if I wasn’t his mate, then our relationship would never last. Not if it got physical. I couldn’t allow myself to risk getting hurt like that. Not when I had seen what it did to my father.” She smiled sadly. “More family secrets.”
“Tell me,” he said softly, encouraging her to open up to him. “I have been starved of true human contact for months, and before that the closest I got to talking about relationships was with men who had a girl in every port.”
“Did you?” she asked.
“No. That’s not to say I haven’t… I was young.” He shrugged, and suddenly felt as if he was exposing a part of himself to Skyla. “But then you reach a point when you know you just want to settle down with the right woman.”
“With your mate?” she asked softly.
He nodded. “You want to find her, and make a life with her. I’d already handed in my papers. When my current tour was over, I planned to leave the Army, come home and begin to set down roots.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“You may have read my file, but those words on a page don’t tell you who the man is.”
“I know.” Skyla ducked her head and began to eat, and Jordan decided to do the same. This was a weird situation for them both to be thrust into, and they had both bared their souls a little. He needed time to process the feelings she evoked in him.
After dinner, she offered to do the dishes, while he relaxed. An impossible thing when she was only two rooms away, and the stirrings in his body grew frustratingly stronger. This was going to be hell. He wanted her, emotionally, but physically he couldn’t be with her.
Maybe fate was a joker, and the biggest joke was on him.
“I think I am going to have to go to bed. The long drive this morning took it out of me,” Skyla said, coming into the sitting room.
“OK.”
She hesitated. “I’d really be happier if you were in bed too.”
He laughed. “Now I’m back to being the child.”
“I have responsibilities.”
“I understand. I can read a book, if it makes you happy.”
“It does.”
He moved himself back into the wheelchair, and headed to his bedroom. There was an adjoining bathroom and he was relieved to find parts of his body were working as they should. That made him happy; he hated the idea of Skyla having to supervise his bathroom routine, but it frustrated him that no matter how hard he tried to concentrate on his legs, nothing moved. The lines of communication were down. How the hell was he supposed to repair them?
“Damn it,” he said, his fists clenched as he punched his legs, wishing he could feel something, anything. This was worse than if they had told him he was irreparably damaged, at least then he would be able to move on. But this? Being stuck in limbo was killing him.
“Everything all right in there?” Skyla asked.
“Perfect,” he answered, and finished up quickly before going back to the bedroom.
Skyla was sitting on the side of the bed, and the man in him wanted to reach out for her, and kiss her, lay her on the bed and make love to her. If only.
“Want me to leave the room while you undress?” she asked. “Or do you need some help? You must be tired after today.”
“I can undress.” He thought for a moment and then said, “You can stay.”
She got up off the bed, walked across to one of the dressers, and took out a clean pair of pajamas. “I know you might have felt more at home in hospital gown, but I figure you might be fed up with everyone seeing your ass.”
He chuckled. “Thoughtful.”
“That’s what I’m paid for.” She handed them to him. “Want to get on the bed first? It’s pretty neat.” She went around to the bedside table and lifted up a remote. “This lets you put the bed up and down. Makes it easier for you to get on and off.”
“Thanks.” He took the remote and made the bed go down lower; then he positioned the wheelchair and made sure the brake was on before he lifted himself up and shifted his weight towards the bed.
He had not anticipated the quilt, and where he thought the edge of the bed was, well… it wasn’t. But before he could slip to the floor, she was there, her arms around him, lifting him as he struggled to regain his dignity.
“There you go.”
“Sorry,” he said, angry at himself.
“Why? You make mistakes, you learn. You have to expect that, seriously. So don’t apologize to me, as long as you’ve done your best and tried your hardest.” She tried to lighten the mood, and he tried to let his anger go. “And I will know if you are trying your best. I do not go easy on slackers.”
She folded her arms, and he lay looking up at her. Hot damn, she was beautiful, her breasts full, her face round, with those sparkling eyes set into it like the most precious jewels.
“I will always give you a hundred percent.”
“That’s all I ask. Now, do you want me to help you? I don’t bite.”
He sighed. She was right, he was tired; months of inaction had made his muscles weaker than he was used to. He couldn’t wait for the gym equipment to get here. At the hospital, he hadn’t bothered, after the first few tries. Couldn’t see the point, but now he did. His upper body strength had to be maintained or he would become permanently dependent on other people.
“Yes, please.”
She looked stunned, but covered her reaction quickly. “Let’s start with your shirt.”
Her hands tugged at the hem of his T-shirt, her knuckles grazing his skin, causing him to inhale sharply as a shock of recognition coursed through him. He was sure her breathing altered too, as if sh
e knew what he was thinking, of how he wanted her to take her clothes off and lie next to him, skin against skin.
Lifting his arms up, she tugged his T-shirt over his head and stood, looking down at him. Then she reached out and ran her fingertips over his chest. His nipples hardened as arousal flooded his body. She let her fingers trail lower, stroking his stomach, and then lower still. He closed his eyes, fighting the need to reach out and pull her to him. Would he be able to satisfy her with his hands and his mouth? If he pulled her down on the bed next to him, would he be able to finish what she was starting?
“Can you feel my fingers?” she asked, her hands stroking his thighs.
He opened his eyes. “No. Nothing.” The mood broke, and so did his heart. “I can manage the rest.”
“Jordan, I’m sorry. I…”
“Good night, Skyla.” She walked away from him, looking confused. “And thank you. For today. For every minute of it.”
“Tomorrow we hunt for that bear of yours,” she said, and before he could tell her no, she had closed the door, leaving his words unsaid.
Chapter Nine – Skyla
“Ruin your career, why don’t you?” she said to herself as she undressed, pulling on her least sexy nightshirt. What had she been thinking?
That she would elicit some reaction from him, that she had a magic touch where he was concerned that would spark his legs back into life.
“You stupid idiot!” Climbing into bed, she lay still, trying to figure out if she would be better to tell Jordan he should find someone else to be his caregiver. It might make things easier if she handed in her notice, rather than making him ask her to leave. Her behavior had been wholly inappropriate, and she would tell him first thing in the morning.
Stupid. She had teased him and called him a child, yet her behavior was so immature, it was unbelievable.
Tears pricked her eyes. She’d wanted to come here to Bear Bluff so much; when she had been asked to come live here, it had felt like fate. But that fate was not exactly how she had imagined it. If Jordan reported her, there was a chance she would be looking for another career change. She wouldn’t be able to work with vulnerable people again.
These thoughts whirled around in her head. Sleep fought her, remaining always out of her reach, as the hours drifted on. The sounds of the mountain drifted in to the room, sounds of an owl hunting, of a horse calling in the distance and she was sure she heard the sounds of a bear roaring, but that might have been her imagination as she dozed on and off, never actually sleeping.
There in amongst it all was the sound of a man crying out. He was hurt, terror filling his voice, before it changed, replaced by the voice of a man who had lost something.
Wide-awake, she sat up. “Jordan.”
Slipping out of bed, she dragged on her robe and ran downstairs, the voice louder, more urgent. Into his room she burst, to find him tossing and turning the bed covers off his legs. Which were moving.
In shock, she stood and stared. Skyla had to be sure it wasn’t some kind of trick in the dim light. No, they were moving, and not just twitching, but as Jordan thrashed around in the bed, as if fighting off some terrible beast, his legs were kicking.
His cries pulled her out of her thoughts, out of her circling questions as she tried to reason out what was going on with Jordan. She would have preferred to stand and watch him, to try to fathom out why he could move in his sleep, but not when he was awake and conscious. But she couldn’t leave him to suffer in his internal anguish.
Her one question to herself as she gently grabbed Jordan’s shoulders and shook him awake, was should she tell him? What would this mean to his mental state if she told him with certainty that there was no physical reason his legs didn’t work, that it was all in his head?
As Jordan opened his eyes, and stared widely around him as if looking for something, she decided that this was one part of his recovery that was going to take some careful consideration, and at least for now, she would keep it to herself.
“Jordan. Jordan, look at me.” His eyes rested on hers, the wild look in his eyes slowly slipping away, to leave him confused. “Are you OK? You had a bad dream.”
His breathing was ragged and it took him a few deep breaths before he could talk. “I’m sorry I woke you.”
Not the answer she expected. “It’s OK, that’s what I’m here for. Do you want to talk about it?”
He shivered, the sweat on his body cooling now that he had stopped moving around. Instinctively, she pulled the covers up around him, shifting her weight before sitting back down next to him.
“I can’t remember it all.”
“Do you want to tell me what you can remember?” she asked, the chill air making her teeth chatter, or maybe it was the lack of sleep and then the shock of having to get up so quickly.
“The fire. It’s always the fire.” He brushed his hand through his hair. “In the hospital they gave me sleeping pills, so I wouldn’t dream. Now I know why.”
“You’ve had this dream before?” she asked.
“Yes.” He placed his hand on hers. “You’re cold.” He lifted the blankets, and she slipped inside, knowing it was the wrong thing to do, but doing it all the same.
“Did the pills stop the dream?” she asked, sliding closer to him, her body needing his warmth.
“They didn’t stop it.” His hand rested on her shoulder, stroking it as if this was the most natural thing in the world. “I had forgotten the dreams, the pills must have dimmed them enough for me to forget each morning. But they were still there.”
“The crash?”
“Yes.”
“And your bear.”
His hand stopped moving, his fingers resting lightly on her skin. “Why do you ask about my bear?”
“Because you were calling as if you had lost something.”
“He is lost.”
She sat up, and looked down at him. “I have an idea of how we might find him.”
“He’s dead. I told you.”
“You said you didn’t know that for sure,” she said.
“No. Not for sure,” he admitted sourly, “but the longer I’m without him, the more plausible that seems.”
“Then let me help you. Please. Trust me and we’ll see if we can find him. Together.”
He lifted his hand and stroked her cheek. “You know I’d do anything you asked of me.”
Her throat constricted and she didn’t know what she was supposed to say. “Then let me help you,” she said feeling lame.
“OK,” he agreed, his hand dropping back to rest on the bed. “I need to know once and for all if he’s gone. If you have an idea, I’ll go along with it.”
“Good, then you should get some sleep, tomorrow is going to be a busy day.” She moved to slip out of the bed, her aim to go back to her own cold bed.
“Stay.” He gripped her hand, not harshly, but with an urgency that set her body on fire. This was dangerous; she was already too close, and they hadn’t known each other for a whole day yet. Donnie’s face flashed in front of hers, the words he’d said about the bond, the need to be near your mate, to be with them, close to them. She knew Jordan was her mate, that they were supposed to be one.
It might not have been the same shock of instant attraction, she understood that. Yet it was still there, in the way he looked at her, in the way he touched her, in the shock of recognition as skin touched skin. Maybe it was the accident, maybe the loss of his bear, or maybe he was trying to protect her, from what? A life with a man who loved her.
From a life with a man who loved her so much he didn’t want to inflict his broken body on her. Of course!
As she lay down beside him, her head resting on his pillow, she placed her hand on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart, and willed him to know she didn’t care about anything. If they were meant to be together, if the bond between them was true, all that mattered was the two of them, and the life they built together. For better or for worse.
Chapte
r Ten – Jordan
“This is your big idea?” he asked.
“Yep,” Skyla answered.
She had gone off early in the morning, he thought she had gone for more supplies; instead, after a hurried phone conversation he didn’t hear, she had shot off out the door, with a call of be back soon.
She kept her word: she was back, too soon to have been into town.
He had heard the sound of the engine coming up the drive, had known it wasn’t the car, and experienced a brief rush of panic that he was here, helpless on his own, followed by a what if something had happened to Skyla, the woman who had held him through the night, and who had chased the bad dreams away.
“And what exactly do you have in mind?” he asked, looking at the ATV, with its four big wheels. This quad was the kind of vehicle he would have found exhilarating to ride—if he still had full use of his legs
“We ride it.”
“In case you missed the memo, my legs still don’t work.” He tilted his head to one side, not knowing whether he should be angry, or call Ben to tell him his caregiver was insane.
“The controls are worked by your hands.”
He sighed. “We have a car. We don’t need this.” He looked at her closely. “Where is the car?”
“Over at Dylan’s yard, we can pick it up when we return.”
“Return from where?” he asked.
“The mountain.”
“OK, that’s it, I thought I was the one with brain damage.”
“You don’t have brain damage and neither do I. It’s simple. You go in front; I slip in behind you and make sure you don’t fall off.” That wasn’t such a terrible idea, but he wanted to hear the rest of her plan before he agreed to it. “You know the mountain, so you take us where the bike can go.”
He looked at her and then back to the bike. “You really are serious, aren’t you?” he asked.
“Absolutely.” She walked past him and into the house. “I think I can just about scrape enough food together to call it a picnic.
Jordan stayed outside looking at the ATV, and then turned his attention to the mountain, trying to figure out a route they could take. The more he thought, the more his memories filled with his life here in Bear Bluff returned to him. His memories of the accident began to shift and blur, no longer being the point when his life began.
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