by Ophelia Bell
Fucking hell, of course it had to be her.
More irritated than aroused, despite whatever ideas his stupid pecker had, he groused at her. “Not hoarding it. It’s just half-finished.” Which should’ve been obvious. “Half-finished” was being rather generous, in fact.
“Why the hell not? This place is perfect. Gaius, you’ve been seriously holding out on me. What other secrets have you got?”
“Why are you here?” he asked, treading water and hoping his enormous hard-on wasn’t visible from her angle.
Far too enthralled by his house and property, Nessa turned and began a slow backstroke in the other direction. This time, she swam about two feet directly in front of him, giving him a tantalizing view of the entire length of her deliciously curvy body, from her light brown shoulders all the way to the dark triangle of silken curls between her legs. Even though he’d seen most of her in the skimpy shorts and top she wore while gardening, he’d had no concept of how beautifully graceful she could be. She was like some lost water nymph come to seduce him.
He shook his head when she said something and realized he hadn’t heard a word she’d said for the last several seconds. Then her words registered. “At first I came to find out why you left a whole pile of things unfinished . . .”
His teeth involuntarily clenched. “Had I known you’d come all the way up here just to gripe at me, I could’ve saved you the trip,” he snapped, surging past her with long sweeps of his arms through the water. He didn’t hear the rest of whatever she said through the water in his ears. When he made it to the dock, he grabbed the ladder and hauled himself up, shook himself off, then stomped up the steps to the main deck.
His cock was still hard. He stopped and stared down at the traitorous appendage, then shook his head in irritation. Pacing across the deck, he scrubbed his hands over his head, struggling to tamp down the whirlwind of conflicting unwelcome feelings—anger at her for invading his space, and desire and arousal for wanting her there for more than just simple company.
The fact was he’d been lonely for a long time. It had been so long since he’d retired and made that call to the matchmaker he’d concluded that he was a lost cause. And now this perfectly gorgeous, yet utterly infuriating woman had walked into his life, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to kick her out or fuck her brains out.
One thing he knew was that Nessa was the perfect example of the kind of woman he didn’t want. She was just too damn bossy and downright exasperating. He was retired now, making a job out of what had been a beloved hobby in his past. This was when he was supposed to relax. Find a mate he could settle down with. Not be set upon at every turn by a female whose life’s work seemed to be to get his blood boiling.
Still pacing, he caught a glimpse of her climbing out of the water, all tantalizing wet curves and long, sleek hair draped over her shoulders. She looked so soft everywhere, his palms just itched to . . .
“Fuck!” he yelled, scrubbing his hands through his hair again to dispel that urge. He took a deep breath and was gratified to see his cock had finally gotten the hint that he wasn’t intending to fuck Nessa.
When he turned again, she was coming up the steps with an irritated look, still naked and holding a dripping bundle in her arms.
Suddenly overwhelmed by modesty ,he darted to his clothesline and snatched a dry towel, slinging it hurriedly around his waist.
When she came up the last few steps, he prepared a litany of complaints to throw at her, but found himself struck dumb yet again by the beauty who stood defiantly in front of him. Holy fuck, was she gorgeous when she was pissed.
“You fucking soaked my clothes, you big oaf!” she snapped, holding out one of the sodden pieces of fabric she was carrying and wringing it out to demonstrate. “I don’t suppose you have a clothes dryer up in this unfinished shell you call a house? No? Didn’t think so.” She glared daggers at him, and if his cock hadn’t already gone soft, he was sure that look would’ve done the job—if she hadn’t been naked while giving it to him.
He’d barely shaken his head and formed a response when she stomped over to his clothesline. “I guess they’ll just have to dry the old fashioned way,” she said, pinning the garments to the cable where his other laundry swung in the warm breeze. “I’m going to borrow this while I wait,” she added, snatching one of his favorite old flannel work shirts and shrugging into it.
Gaius blinked at her as she fastened the buttons, unsure of how to respond. He couldn’t argue with her. He’d been the ass who shaken water all over her clothes in his need to escape.
And now that she was dressed in nothing but an ancient, threadbare shirt of his, he was somehow completely disarmed. Perhaps it was the fact that her goods were safely hidden away and he could finally cool down enough to think. Before, she’d been all sexy-as-sin curves and wet, bronze skin. Now she was decidedly less intimidating in a shirt that was three sizes too big. She was still rolling up the sleeves, and the hem nearly reached her knees.
“Sorry,” he finally managed, though his timing was so off he may as well have been apologizing for the size of the shirt.
“It’ll do,” she said, her lips quirking into a sweet smile, which slowly bled into a chuckle.
Perplexed at first, he frowned at her. Then the absurdity of the situation hit him and he laughed. “You just help yourself to my closet, Nessa. Don’t mind me.”
After her melodic giggle subsided, she eyed him up and down and said, “You look better naked, anyway.” Then, after the briefest pause, she added, “Were those fresh burgers I saw in your fridge? I admit I’d like a taste of whatever it is that made you think my offering wasn’t good enough to touch your lips.”
Gaius chuckled and bent his head, rubbing his mouth to dispel the tingling that’d overtaken his lips. “You saw right. I’ve, ah, got more than enough meat, if you’re hungry.”
He darted a glance at her with a hesitant quirk to his mouth and was gratified to see a sparkle in her eyes. Nope, she was no shrinking violet, this one.
“I noticed,” she said. “I could eat.” Then she stepped back and waved him to his outdoor kitchen.
With a nod, he tightened his towel around his hips and moved toward the stone oven. Squatting, he opened the fire box and jabbed at the coals with a poker, then added a couple logs to the heat. It was about right for the buns. While they got going, he’d start the fire pit for the burgers to grill on.
He made it halfway to standing when pain blasted through his right knee, then through his left, so excruciating he cursed and gripped the edge of the countertop to steady himself. Claws shot from his fingers, digging into the hard wood beneath, a reflex born of old training still ingrained after three decades as a Champion.
“Shit, what’s wrong?” Nessa said, darting to his side. “Did you burn yourself?”
She rested a gentle hand on his arm that somehow managed to clear his head the tiniest bit. Gritting his teeth, he shook his head.
“Nah. Old injury. It pains me worse in humid weather. The falls usually help if I soak long enough. ‘S one of the reasons I bought this land.”
“Here, let me help you sit,” she said. Without waiting for a reply, she slipped an arm around his waist and grabbed his wrist, tucking her head beneath his elbow. Before he could process her request, she had him supported against her softness and was leading him toward the fire pit.
He groaned as she lowered him into his chair, and was dimly grateful that the pair of hot coals that had taken up residence in his knee joints distracted his cock enough that it stayed flaccid beneath his towel.
Nessa squatted in front of him with a worried look. “Where does it hurt?” she asked, peering up into his eyes.
“Knees,” he bit out, gripping them and squeezing. “I’ve got a bit of salve in the fridge. And the liquor . . . that’s around here somewhere.”
“Just sit, I’ve got you,” Nessa said with a soft smile. Gaius nodded and smiled back, his gaze inadvertently drifting down the open collar
of her shirt. He silently thanked whatever gods existed for the lost buttons. The old thing had gradually lost half its buttons to the point he had to remove the top ones and sew them back on at the bottom just to make the garment halfway serviceable. He pretty much only wore it working on his own house now. But after seeing her in it, he doubted he’d ever wear the thing again.
When she stood and went back to the fridge, he took a deep breath, admiring the way her full, round backside flexed beneath the tail of his shirt. Nope, it definitely belonged on her.
Fuck, what was he thinking? Not half an hour ago he was cursing her very existence. But he couldn’t deny she was a sweetheart, despite her ongoing inclination to get under his skin.
At least now her sympathy seemed to have overridden any particular need to torment him with her demands.
Nessa opened the fridge and bent over to peer inside. Gaius let out a soft growl as the hem of his shirt rode up her thighs, baring the curved creases of the underside of her ass. Just an inch more and he’d have a view even more spectacular than the mountains outside his front window. He bit his lip, hoping. She was at least easy on the eyes, even if she was a test to his patience.
But alas, she found his medicine and stood again. As she turned she sniffed it and grimaced. “How old is this stuff? Does it even work anymore?”
“I made it a few weeks ago. That was before the humidity kicked up for the summer, though.”
“These herbs grow in your woods?”
“Yeah, but . . .” Before he could finish the thought, she’d tossed his salve in the trash and run off toward the woods. By the time he turned to call after her, all he saw was the dark, fur-covered backside of a she-bear and his shirt hanging on a branch at the edge of the deck.
Gaius could hear her rustling around in the woods behind the house, her bear’s telltale chuffing sounds a sign that she was in the midst of dedicated searching for the healing herbs. He shook his head and laughed to himself, amused by how focused she was on a goal once she got it into her head.
Eventually the sounds came closer and he sat back, smiling and waiting. Then it came . . . the pause near the other side of the house followed by the sound of running and then an exclaimed “Oh!” from a now apparently human-shaped Nessa. She’d found his garden.
Several minutes later, she came padding barefoot around the section of deck that stretched between the side of the house and the hillside. Gaius restrained himself from looking until she came into view and set down a big basket loaded with greenery. He exhaled slowly at the sight of her, his entire body warming as he took in her naked shape, savoring those last few seconds before she covered up again with his shirt.
All he really needed was the sight of her and the pain disappeared, but that was a recipe for disaster if he gave in. Not only was she a headstrong, infuriating woman, but from the look of her, she was far too young for him anyway.
Still, he had no compunctions against enjoying the view while he could. At least now that they’d crossed the barrier of seeing each other naked, it didn’t rile him up so much.
She turned and carried the basket across the deck to the outdoor kitchen. “Why didn’t you tell me you had a whole garden full of the stuff?”
“I would’ve, if you’d listened. You seem to tune out once you get an idea into your head.” He leaned forward and rubbed his knees, the throbbing ache returning now that the magical diversion of Nessa’s naked body had disappeared.
His soft hiss caught her attention and she said, “Oh, I almost forgot.” Holding up a finger, she jogged into the house and came back a moment later with his bottle of liquor, along with his other chair.
“Until I get your salve made,” she said, handing the bottle to him, then setting the chair on the opposite side of his fire pit.
“You are a goddamn angel,” Gaius said. He took a swig and sat back, letting the pleasant buzz of the alcohol numb his pain while he watched her work. She was mesmerizing. So sure and confident. He wondered if he could amend his request to the matchmaker and ask for a woman like Nessa, just a little older and a lot less overbearing. He was enough of a control freak himself—he needed a woman who was willing to compromise.
Yet somehow he didn’t mind when he realized she’d taken the liberty of making the rolls for the burgers and slid them into the oven, then came over and expertly lit the fire in the pit in front of him.
Finally, she retrieved the bowl where she’d left the crushed herbs to steep and came over to kneel in front of him. Gaius sat up, swallowing in surprise at the sudden closeness of her.
Nessa laughed. “I’m not going to bite. You’re in pain, and it’s better if you don’t try to obliterate it entirely with that bottle.” She nodded toward the liquor he held loosely on his towel-covered lap. She gently extracted it from his grip and set it on the deck beside his chair. “Now, let me see your knees.”
Gaius dropped his hands to the arms of the chair, forcing himself to remain aloof while she pushed his towel up his thighs a few inches to reveal both his damaged, swollen joints. She winced.
“Yeah, that bad,” he said.
“What the hell did you do to yourself?” she asked. She pushed his legs farther apart, forcing him to drop his hands and bunch the towel between his legs to avoid giving her a peek at his assets when she bent to inspect the pair of matching scars that lined the inside of each knee.
“Old arena injuries, that’s all.”
Nessa’s brows shot up. “You’re a Champion?”
“Was. Retired about two years ago. These old things just couldn’t take it anymore.”
Nessa looked at his knees and then back up at him, her gaze almost reverent as though some amazing revelation had come to her. “You’re the Blackpaw, aren’t you?”
It was Gaius’ turn to be surprised. “Little before your time, don’t you think?”
With a shrug, she settled down on her haunches and reached into the bowl, withdrawing a long, sheer piece of bandage that was soaked through with the viscous golden liquid. “My dad followed your career. He was a big fan. Even though I think he disagreed with what you did.”
Gaius snorted. That was typical of his generation of bears. You simply didn’t give up clan leadership if there was any choice in the matter.
He jumped when she gripped his calf and urged him to straighten his leg.
“Seriously, settle down. You’re making me jumpy. So, tell me why you did it.”
He stretched out his leg allowing her to rest his foot on her thigh. When she leaned over, the underside of her breast grazed his big toe through the fabric of his shirt. But the brief, charged sensation was nothing compared to the relief that seeped into his leg when she started wrapping the medicine-infused bandage around his knee.
“You don’t even ask, you just demand, don’t you?”
Nessa narrowed her gaze at him. “You don’t have to answer. I’m just curious. You could have been the Blackrock clan leader, but you let that go. Was it the fame or the money?”
“Neither. I just couldn’t see myself in charge. I like my life how I like it. Stayed in the solo bracket too, despite hundreds of offers to join up with other Champions. Could’ve made more money in a duo or a trio. A Clan leader has thousands of people to answer to—they never get any peace. You may have noticed I like my solitude.”
Her fingertips tickled his inner thigh as she wound the bandage higher, crisscrossing it over his joint for secure coverage. His belly warmed, and he was sure it wasn’t from the several swallows of liquor he’d downed when she handed him his bottle. But it wasn’t so much arousal as it was an odd sort of comfort at her gentle touch . . . something he hadn’t felt in far too long.
She made a soft hum of understanding as she secured the bandage on one knee and shifted to his other leg. “My mom has this crazy dream that I’ll wind up mated to a clan leader someday. I just humor her.” She shook her head and pressed her lips together, her expression half irritated and half tender. “She means well, I know.�
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“You don’t want that? It’d be good life—being a clan leader’s mate.”
Nessa tilted her head and quirked her mouth to the side, thinking. “It’s not that I don’t want it. I just want what I want, you know? And what I want right now is this job.”
“Did you tell your mama that?”
“She knows, but she’s stubborn too.” She shot him a playful look. “It’s just easier to let her do her thing and I’ll do mine. I doubt that matchmaker will ever find a man who’d tolerate me anyway. I mean, you seem like the nicest guy, but I can tell you don’t like me. Somehow I manage to repel any men I didn’t grow up with moments after meeting them. I think Ig and Bry and Levi are immune to whatever it is that turns off everyone else, which I’m grateful for.”
Gaius frowned and started to protest, but she shot him a warning look. “Don’t think I haven’t caught onto your little grumbles whenever I walk into the room. It’s all right, I’m used to it.” She shrugged. “I just focus on the food and my friends. I’m happy enough.”
But she didn’t look happy in that moment. If anything, she looked close to tears. At a loss, Gaius reached down for the liquor bottle and offered it to her with raised eyebrows.
Nessa took it, nodded her thanks, then tilted it back and took a long swig. Her throat rippled as she swallowed, the long, golden column holding his attention as he followed the line of it down. As if succumbing to some strange gravitational pull, his gaze continued lower, down her chest to the crease of her cleavage visible between the edges of his shirt.
Again, his palms itched with the desire to feel both those gorgeous globes spilling out of his grip. When she handed the bottle back to him, he took another long drink—for courage, or strength, or just to numb himself, he wasn’t sure anymore, but she was starting to get to him in a way he wasn’t quite sure he was prepared for.
As quickly as her mood had darkened, it shifted again. She patted both his knees gently and gave him a brilliant smile, then hopped up.