A heavy sigh. “I didn’t have a choice. I needed the money.”
“And the business? What? We just let it go?” My voice didn’t even sound like my own. It sounded flat and vacant.
“I really don’t have an answer. Maybe we should let the hurricane do its thing and collect the insurance money.” He spoke to someone in the background and sighed again. “Look, Megan, you and I are over. We both know it wasn’t working.”
“Okay.” I shook my head and sat up, feeling something unexpected pass over me—acceptance. “I guess you evacuated?”
“Yeah, of course.”
If I was waiting for him to express an iota of concern for my wellbeing, I would have died waiting. I just dropped the phone into its cradle and looked back up at the cobweb. Something else I had only just noticed.
I couldn’t afford to waste any more time. Even though I wanted to stay in that chair and obsess over how much money Dylan had taken and how he was spending it, most likely on Brandi, I couldn’t. I had to take care of the shop. Just because my husband was an asshole, that didn’t mean I was going to leave our shop to Matilda’s wrath.
The prints hanging around the shop were worth thousands, money I would need to put back into the shop—and whatever damages Matilda wrought. I worked as fast as I could to take them down and layer them between packing blankets in the trunk of my SUV. Then I got all of the other delicate material out of the shop. The cheaper prints that I could redo if necessary, I carted into the office and stored on top of the desk, in case water did come inside.
Screwing plywood over the windows was a task for at least two people, but I managed to do an okay job of it. I had to ignore the strain on my body to get it done. Lifting and using my body to hold the boards in place while I stretched to screw in the bottom was painful and awkward, as was stretching my arms overhead to secure the top of the plywood.
The wind picked up as I went, and the sky grew darker. There were eight windows and a door that needed covering, but I was only halfway done when a gust of wind took the plywood I was holding and tossed it, end over end, down the street. The damn wind ripped it right from my hands, leaving them bloody and splintered from the rough ends of the wood.
My hair whipped around my head wildly. My oversized shirt billowed out in front of me, and my eyes stung from the salty wind. When the rain started, goosebumps spread over my body. I’d never waited so long to evacuate, nor had I ever stayed on the island through a dangerous hurricane. I was about to experience my first time—with Matilda.
I doubted she’d go easy on me, either.
My brain worked at lightning speed to formulate a plan. I wasn’t sure the house would be a safe place to ride out the storm. It was on the east side of the island, facing the Atlantic, and was where Matilda would hit first. I couldn’t stay in the shop. Even if I did manage to get the rest of the windows boarded up, it wouldn’t be structurally safe. I didn’t know where to go. Maybe the medical center on the west side of the island. It was small but made from reinforced concrete. If I could get in, it would be safer than most places.
I turned back to the windows and, with a renewed determination, decided that I had time to finish and still make it to the medical center before the brunt of the storm hit. I went after the board that had flown down the street and got back to work.
My determination faded almost as fast as it had arrived, however, as the wind grew increasingly stronger. I was weak from the physical exertion I’d done all day—boarding up the house and then the shop—and hadn’t thought to eat anything. I only got one more window done before I hit a wall. I didn’t have enough energy or strength left to finish.
I stepped back from the shop and wiped at a stray tear. I felt as though life was closing a chapter on me that I hadn’t planned on closing. No matter the situation, I didn’t want to see the building damaged. It had been good to us.
Before I could continue my sentimental journey, a huge wind gust shoved me sideways. I caught myself and then looked east. Horrified, I saw that the shoreline was much closer than normal. The water was already coming in hard and fast. My heart raced.
I did my best to speedily shove everything in the shop higher up and farther away from the windows. When I’d done everything I could, I rushed back out and climbed in my SUV. In just the last ten minutes, the waterline had risen aggressively. I couldn’t have made it back to my house, even if I’d wanted to. I floored it down Main Street to the small island medical center and parked in the ER entrance, the only place even remotely shielded from the wind and rain. I went around the back and worked quickly to pull a tarp over the prints, hoping that would offer enough protection if the windows blew out, then I closed and locked the doors.
The medical center had been evacuated early on. Maintenance had boarded the place up, protecting it from the storm and potential looters. I made my way slowly around its perimeter, searching for a way in. When I found none, I retreated to the SUV and sat in it, trying to think. I was soaked. The wind and rain rocked the vehicle; the howling made my stomach clench tightly. I didn’t know where else to go. It was pitch dark by that point. The emergency broadcast system was saying that Matilda was arriving soon; a storm surge of ten to fifteen feet was expected.
It was too late to try to drive inland. It was too late to make it anywhere else. I put my head in my hands and cried. It wasn’t very helpful, but I was out of options.
7
Roman
My bear was unusually unsettled—more so than I ever remember him being. Matilda came in with a raging attitude, beating the little island of Sunkissed Key with unbridled ferocity.
I was an adrenaline junkie—all of us in P.O.L.A.R. were—which was why we chose to do the work we did. Despite the fact that I was no stranger to hazards or risks, and I’d certainly been in more perilous situations, there was something different this time. Exciting, sure, but it also felt like something ominous was lurking just over my shoulder—something that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
The storm had just started, at a little past ten in the evening, and already, within a half hour, the east side of the island was flooded. Alexei was hanging out on a rooftop somewhere, watching and keeping us up to date. I was jealous, but I didn’t want to leave Susie’s. I could tell the older woman was nervous, and I wasn’t about to let her face Matilda on her own.
For about the thousandth time, I stifled a growl and rolled my neck. My bear was highly agitated. “Having fun so far, Susie?”
She looked up from her find-a-word puzzle book and shrugged. “As long as my place is still standing in the morning, I’m good.”
I forced a laugh and paced over to the covered windows. I wanted to see outside. I kept feeling like something was happening out there. Something I should know about, or take care of.
Anything, Alexei? I called to him through our mental link, hungry for any news.
This storm is wild! Even in my head, I could feel the energy radiating off him. I don’t know how much longer I’ll stay up here, but it’s been worth watching.
See anyone in need of assistance? My bear growled again, growing even more riled. He kept urging me to go out on a rescue mission, but there was no one out there. No matter how many times I told him, and how much I tried to convince him, he just grew more determined.
No one would be crazy enough to be out in this. I think I’ll head your way. Susie have any of those cinnamon rolls?
I looked over at the covered plate—what was left of the cinnamon rolls she’d made for me about twenty minutes ago. A few. Come on. I’m going to switch positions with you for a bit. I have a weird feeling in my gut.
Alexei showed up a few minutes later, soaked to the bone and grinning like a madman. He wiped his face and made a beeline for the cinnamon rolls. “Susie, will you marry me?”
She smiled at him. “What would you boys do without an old lady like me to look after you? Why you insist on going out in this is beyond me. It’s too dangerous.”<
br />
I nodded to Alexei and moved toward the door. “We’ll be okay, Susie. We’re trained for this kind of stuff. Come lock this behind me, Alexei. I’ll let you know when I’m on my way back.”
I didn’t wait for them to reply. My bear was ripping at my flesh to get out and search for whatever it was that had him so worked up. I’d barely gotten ten feet from the diner before he tore free, shredding my clothing and slapping large paws down in the standing water. I lifted my head to the sky and inhaled through my elongated snout. Every one of my senses was heightened in that form, but most of all my sense of smell. I breathed deeply, searching for anything that stood out as unusual.
Salt air, island scents, and something sweet but soiled with the bitter tang of fear. My heart leaped and I ran toward the scent. A faint scream pierced the howling wind and crashing waves. Racing faster, it wasn’t long before I was swimming. The surge had hit, and the island was more water than land.
Hear that? Serge came in urgent.
I’ve got it. Headed toward it now. I’ll let you know if I need backup.
I passed the last house and felt a rip current tugging at me. I let it pull me closer to the sound of the scream. It carried me deeper into the ocean, farther south, deeper into the storm. Whoever was out there wouldn’t last long. The ocean was a dangerous beast, even when not stirred up.
A flash of lightning lit up the sky, and for a split second, I saw the person. About a hundred yards out, someone was flailing to stay above the rough water. Once spotted, I was able to keep them in my sights, even in the dark. I watched as a wave crashed over them, dragging them under. My heart squeezed painfully and I pushed my muscles through the churning water.
Swimming as fast as I could, it still took me several seconds to get to the spot where I saw the person go down. It was rougher seas than I’d ever attempted to navigate before. I dove under and searched the dark waters.
A white shirt stood out and I was on it—her—in seconds. She was unconscious, and not breathing. She did not look good. My pulse raced. The idea of her not being okay was unacceptable. I had to save her. I clamped my jaw gently over her arm, being careful not to puncture her skin with my sharp teeth, and pulled her to the surface. I had to shift back to resuscitate her. The waves tossed us, and I did the best I could in the situation. One forceful blow of oxygen into her mouth and she was back with me—what a fighter.
Terrified hazel eyes flew open and connected with mine. She was frozen, her body stiff against mine.
“Are you okay?!” I shouted over the raging storm, scared I’d been too late somehow.
She blinked a few times and then looked around. Her nails bit into my skin as her hands locked onto my arms. Her legs started kicking, helping keep us afloat. She shook her head, the panic in her eyes was clear.
“I’ll get us back! Just hold on to me.”
I didn’t give her a chance to think about it. I turned and wrapped her arms around my neck. Then, I swam like I’d never swum before. She was light on my back, but it was an awkward way to swim and I used every ounce of my shifter strength. Her mouth next to my ear was more distracting than it should’ve been.
She was more distracting than she should have been—especially given the dire circumstance. I was hyperaware of her body against mine. I swam hard, making sure to avoid the rip current, and got us back onto land. The land was more underwater than it had been just minutes before, but I carried her to the closest house. It was a beach house on stilts, so it was safe from the water, if not the wind.
The water level had risen halfway up the staircase. As soon as she could grab the stair railing, she let go of me and pulled herself up until she could climb the top few steps. It was easy to see that she was sluggish and weak, exhausted, and I worried.
At the top of the stairs, the home was boarded up well. I forced the door open and ushered her inside ahead of me. I’d apologize and pay for damages later. As soon as I had the door shut and secured, we were plunged into relative silence. It took a few seconds for the ringing in my ears from the howling wind and crashing waves to subside. I turned to the woman who had almost been a casualty of the storm and looked her over. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end. Tingles shot through my body.
She looked as though she was still in a daze, not quite processing reality, and that concerned me. “Are you okay? Tell me how you feel. Are you dizzy? Any trouble breathing?”
She shook her head and then nodded before shaking her head again. “I…I don’t know. I don’t know.”
I led her over to a barstool and motioned for her to sit. When she did, I looked her over more closely. I couldn’t see any damage, anything that would alert me to any injury she’d incurred. Her hazel eyes began to focus, despite everything. A just slightly upturned nose on a heart-shaped face, full lips…kissable lips. Lusciously kissable…
She coughed, her hand going over her chest.
“Do you hurt anywhere?”
“My lungs don’t feel the best, but I think that’s to be expected… I thought I was dead.”
I didn’t feel in top form myself. My bear was in a tizzy, consumed by the woman in front of us, torn between panting and growling. I didn’t know what the hell was wrong with him, but I needed to gain control over him before he embarrassed me. “Anything else?
She shook her head and sank back, letting her back rest against the counter behind her. “I’m okay. I know enough about dry drowning to know that this isn’t that. I’m just…”
I leaned in closer when she trailed off. She had the most delectable aroma.
“I’m just really glad you came along.” When she looked up at me with those beautiful hazel eyes, I was lost in them. But then, she wrapped her arms around my neck in a tight hug.
Shocked, I hugged her in return. The gesture felt way too good—far better than a mere thank-you hug from a rescued victim. I’d had plenty of those since being recruited to the task force. No, this one triggered an immediate arousal, and I realized I’d better cover up because my downstairs was standing at full mast.
“Thank you for saving my life.”
8
Megan
I pulled away from the man who’d rescued me and tried to ignore the awkward arousal I felt blossoming inside. I shouldn’t have hugged him. How was I to know it would start my pulse racing and my body filling with lust? Maybe it was just a strange reaction to nearly dying. I coughed again and looked around the house we’d broken into. “This is Greg Campbell’s house.”
“A friend of yours?”
I shook my head. “Not since high school. He got this place when his parents moved to Pensacola. I was here a few times when we were kids for parties.”
“Greg’s really into animal print, huh?”
I looked over at the leopard-patterned pillows on the couch and bit back a laugh. “I think he’s married now. Although, those could still be his, I suppose.”
We grew quiet again, and I looked anywhere but at the man who’d saved me. I felt strange. When I’d regained consciousness with his mouth on mine, after thinking I was a goner, I’d assumed for a second that I’d died and gone to heaven. There was this beautiful man kissing me, or so I’d thought. I’d been ready to lean in and really kiss him back when I choked up ocean water. It was hard to hold eye contact, knowing that while he’d been trying to save my life, I’d been thinking about making out with him.
“I’m Roman.” He held out his hand, and one side of his mouth lifted.
I met his eyes for a second and then slid my hand into his. I couldn’t help but notice how much larger his hand was than mine. The guy was huge. “Megan.”
“What were you doing out in this storm, Megan?”
I pulled my hand back from his and stood up. On shaky legs, I rounded Greg’s kitchen island and occupied myself by getting a glass of water. The salty taste in my mouth was disgusting. “It’s a long story.”
He followed me closely, without allowing me much personal space, which should h
ave felt creepy, but didn’t at all. “I think we’ve got time.”
As if on cue, the lights he’d turned on when we’d stepped foot in the place, flickered and died and the wind shook the house violently. I dropped the glass I’d just taken out of the cupboard and yelped as it hit the ground next to my feet and shattered.
“Don’t move.” Roman’s deep, authoritative command froze me in my tracks until I felt his warm hands grasp my waist.
I squirmed. “What are you doing?”
A rhetorical question. I knew what he was attempting to do. He was actually going to try to pick me up, obviously either overestimating his own abilities or he had no idea how much I weighed. He must not have gotten a good look at me. I was no lightweight, and I was horrified at the idea of him hurting himself by trying to lift me. I pushed at his hands to remove them, but they stayed firmly clasped.
“Stop, before you cut yourself.” His voice was stern, and I found myself heeding his command. With seemingly no effort, as though I was a child, he hoisted me in the air and sat me down on the counter behind him. “Where do you think Greg or his wife might keep their broom?”
I sat there, in shock. The guy, Roman he’d said his name was, was big—far bigger than I was—but what he’d done by lifting me without effort shouldn’t have been possible. He hadn’t even grunted from the strain—nothing. “Uh, the Greg I knew wouldn’t own a broom.”
Roman chuckled and rested his hand on my knee. “Don’t move. There’s glass all over.”
“What about your feet?”
“I’m tough.”
Well, that was proving to be an understatement. I tried to follow Roman’s movements through the darkness, perplexed. He’d lifted me like I weighed nothing. He’d swam with me on his back through turbulent waters and torrential rain. Who the hell was this guy? Superman? My heart raced. A wacky idea formed in my mind that maybe I was dead and dreaming. That had to be the case. None of this could be real. I slid off the counter and gasped when pain shot up my leg. Nope, not dreaming.
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