by Michelle Fox
He held the bottle poised above the rim of the jar and poured a trickle. “Good?”
“That’s fine.”
After resealing the bottle and setting it inside the cabinet, he returned the jar to her.
“Thank you.” Holding the scotch under her nose, she sniffed the subtle fragrance. “I can see why you like it. I didn’t notice it the first time, but aside from the obvious smoky-oak notes, I also smell moss.”
“Do you?” He rubbed his chin as if he were deep in thought. “Most people miss that detail.”
She sniffed the air. “I smell honey too.” Rising from the couch, she strolled into the kitchen area. Passing the cabinet where the scotch was stored, she opened its neighbor and looked inside. “There it is.” Taking hold of a sticky mason jar, she held it under her nose. “Yum. It smells so good. This is clover honey, isn’t it? There really is a big difference in the varieties, isn’t there?” Gripping the metal cap, she tried to unscrew the lid, but it didn’t budge. “I know I’m being a bother, but would you mind if I put a little honey in my drink? It sounds fantastic.”
An odd expression crossed his face. “Sure.” He reached for the honey and gave the lid an effortless twist before handing it to her. “Here you go.”
Tipping the container, she drizzled the honey into her drink. “It’s so thick. This is taking too long to pour. I want it now.” Lifting the mason jar to her lips, she was just about to sip honey straight from the jar when she smelled something else sweet and fruity. “Where are they?”
Turning in a slow circle, she sniffed. “I smell fresh blueberries.” She headed toward the refrigerator and flung the door open. “There they are. Oh, they look gorgeous. Can I have a few?” Without waiting for his answer, she reached into the bowl. Grabbing a handful, she ferried them into her drink. “This is going to be fabulous!”
She glimpsed her reflection in the kitchen window. The sight of another female in her territory was enraging. Baring her teeth, she growled. “Oh, my God! What am I doing? I’m snarling at myself.” Setting the jar of honeyed scotch and bobbing blueberries on the countertop, she backed away. “I’m riffling through your kitchen like an animal.” She sighed. “What’s wrong with me? Mac, I apologize. For a minute there, I sort of lost control.”
Mac took hold of her arm and led her back to the couch. “It’s okay.” His voice was soft and full of patience. “I understand that you’ve been through a lot.” He stroked her arm. “Just have a seat. I’m going to make dinner. Would you like me to get your drink?”
She stared at the jar on the counter. “I’m not sure. Maybe I’m not a scotch drinker after all. I feel weird. This is not my normal behavior.”
“You rolled your car down a ravine. You’re in a stranger’s home. None of this is normal. Anyone would be unsettled by this situation. But I promise you, the worst has already happened. We’re going to have a nice meal, and by tomorrow morning, things will look different.”
She gazed into his expressive eyes. “God, I hope you’re right.”
Mac returned to the kitchen to wash a cutting board.
Andi sat on the couch, watching him prepare dinner. With every heartbeat, her mood grew stranger. Colors in the room intensified. The scent of a bar of soap on the bathroom sink teased her nose. She recognized the citrusy notes from earlier. How she was able to smell it in the next room remained a riddle. A series of bizarre images whirled in her head. An overwhelming desire to rummage through the kitchen cupboards, throw all the food on the floor and roll on it, almost seemed like a good idea.
He set a stack of plates on the countertop and then glanced at her. “Are you okay?”
Visions of ripping open cereal boxes and having cornflakes fly through the air like confetti came on strongly. She muttered an unconvincing, “Yeah.”
His brows sank. “Are you sure? You look a little loopy.”
She paused. “Do you have any bacon?”
Placing his hand on the sink, he stopped what he was doing to observe her. “I do have bacon. Shall I cook some?”
With crystal clarity, she imaged herself in the form of a hulking animal draping strips of bacon over its snout and toying with them. “No. I want it raw.”
He scratched his chin. “What do you want it for?” His tone was cautious.
“I was thinking of rubbing it on something.” A low rumble rose from her throat. She parted her lips and released a booming growl. “Damn! Did that come out of me?”
Chapter Three
When he’d said the worst was behind her, he’d meant to be kind. Instead, it amounted to a colossal lie. Mac knew if Andi’s immediate reaction to the bite was this intense, what lay ahead would be extremely challenging for both of them. “Sit still and let me do the kitchen work.”
“Mac?” She patted her hand against the bandage on her throat. “Would you take a peek and see if everything is okay? My skin feels warm. I’m a little dizzy too. To be honest, I’m too freaked out to look.”
“I’m sure everything is fine.” Leaning close, he peeled the paper tape away and stared. What he saw disturbed him. The bite glowed scarlet like a neon sign. The crescent moon was so distinct it resembled a tattoo. Even though he’d not consciously done so, this was without doubt a first-stage claim bite and not a mere injury. The sight of her graceful throat bared to him provoked a possessive reaction. He fought the urge to take her to his bed, wrap his arms around her, and bite her again with slow, sweet agony that would carry them both over the edge. With a single swift motion, he covered the mark with the cotton pad and resealed the tape. “For now, I think it’s best to just leave it alone and let it heal. New rule. Leave the bite covered. No touching, absolutely no touching.”
“You mean don’t clean it?”
“Let’s definitely keep it clean.”
“The bite?”
“Everything.”
Her eyes widened. “You look worried. How do you think that makes me feel?”
His gut twisted with remorse. Yet, as bad as things were, they could get much worse. There was still a chance Andi might ride out the early stage of transformation and avoid his fate. He owed it to her to be selfless and resist his inner bear’s inclination to take her as his mate.
Choosing his next words with care, he tried to sound more confident than he felt. “I know this is not an ideal situation, but you have my word, you’ll survive the night and make it off this mountain in one piece. So don’t give in to worry. It’s going to be all right.”
“You’re not just saying this, are you?”
“Andi, you have my word. I will not allow matters to get out of hand. You’re safe with me. Tomorrow, a doctor will offer you real help if you need it.”
She took hold of his hand, brought it to her cheek, and nuzzled his fingers. Her sable-brown eyes flooded with emotion. “Mac, you’ve got to be the kindest man I’ve ever met. There’s just something special about you. The minute I get myself worked up, you calm me down. It’s not even what you say. It’s just you. I wish I could bottle that serene quality and take it with me.”
His heart slammed against his ribs. “That might be the nicest compliment I’ve ever received.” He pulled away from her, feeling like a total cad for putting her in jeopardy in the first place. “I’m going to get dinner started.”
Walking into the kitchen, he headed toward the sink and filled a tall pot with water, adding a generous dash of salt. He set it on the burner and turned the gas flame on high. “Water takes forever to heat at this altitude. Are you sure you don’t want your drink while you’re waiting?”
She stared at the wall with a vacant expression. “What was that? Were you talking to me?”
He slipped a spoon into her drink and carried it over to the couch. “Here you go. You don’t have to drink it if you don’t want. You can just play with the blueberries.”
Reaching for the jar, a sweet expression flooded her face. “Thank you.”
“Is everything okay? For a moment, you had a faraway
look going on.”
“I was thinking.”
He sat beside her with his knees splayed and his hands clasped in front. “About what?”
Her mouth twisted into a frown. “Do I have to say it? I’m so embarrassed. A few minutes ago, I growled in your face and asked for raw bacon. I have no idea why that crazy crap came out of mouth, and I hope to God it will not be repeated.”
Looking at Andi seated on his favorite side of the couch and seeing what her feminine curves did for a boxy pair of men’s pajamas really drove home how lonely he’d become. At thirty-eight, he’d long passed the age at which most men of the MacBrun clan took a mate. Most married young or missed their chance. Solitary by nature, he had been reluctant to seek out one of his own kind. By the time he made the journey to Scotland to attend the secret, once-in-a-decade Highland gathering of the bear clans, he’d been shocked to see how few women were in the group. All the eligible females were quickly spoken for. The MacBruns had the unfortunate tendency to breed mostly males. A trait, which had served them well during their early days as warriors, punished them in times of peace. He’d resigned himself long ago to being a member of a vanishing breed. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I never have company at the station, and I’m thrilled to be entertaining you tonight.”
She dismissed him with a wave. “You deserve a better dining companion than a woman who confessed to wanting to rub your bacon.”
“I’d let you rub my bacon anytime.” He laughed.
A shy smile fanned the corners of her eyes. “This is nice. I can let my guard down and joke with you. This never happens at work. Even when I’m trying to be friendly, no one forgets I’m the boss. People are always cautious. I guess my authority vibe never takes a day off.”
“Do you like it that way?”
Her nostrils flared as she drew a tense breath. “I used to cultivate it. You have to understand, not only am I a woman, I started at a high level so much younger than anyone else. In my field I was sort of an anomaly, and scared I wouldn’t be taken seriously.”
“Are you taken seriously now?”
“Hell yes! So much so that I….” She picked at one of the wrist cuffs on the pajamas. “Never mind.”
“Go ahead and say it. I’m listening.”
“Poor man. You should charge me for a therapy session. A moment ago, I was thinking how today’s events really brought my life into focus. A freaking bear carried me to safety this afternoon, and I don’t have anyone to share that with. You’re totally right. That’s just sad. My office is crowded. I make at least forty person-to-person calls a day, and I’m always on the road meeting new colleagues, but when it comes down to the raw details, I’m just as isolated as if I were stranded on this mountain. My office and your ranger station are different settings, but my mindset is the same. I’m a loner trapped on the outside, and it doesn’t feel right anymore.”
“Which part? Going to an office or being a loner?”
Breaking eye contact, she looked away. “I’m not sure how to answer that question. I need to think about it.” Gathering her knees to her chest, Andi curled forward. Blinking, she slumped over the arm of the couch. “I’m so tired all of sudden, like somebody flipped my off switch.” She yawned. “I could hibernate for a month. I’m going to close my eyes for a few minutes and see if it helps.” Her head wilted, and within moments, she fell fast asleep.
He rose from the couch and grabbed a down comforter from the bed. With a light touch, he placed the cover over Andi and left her to snooze on her side. She needed the rest. Now the bite would do its thing. With every heartbeat, more of his bear pheromones reached new cells in her body. The spirit of the bear would assert its powerful presence and change her.
In the old days, it was perfectly acceptable to coerce or even kidnap a bride. An initial bite would be given to start the process and a decisive claim bite delivered on the wedding night would complete it. The women were chosen for their ability to keep a secret. In exchange, the brides of bears were cherished. To the mother of bears! remained a favorite drinking toast. Women with nothing to lose, orphans, widows, and war prizes topped the list of preferred brides. Through this strategy, the MacBrun bloodline survived largely unnoticed for over a thousand years.
Taking soft steps so he wouldn’t disturb her, he returned to the kitchen. The potted basil on the windowsill got plucked bare, and the fragrant leaves rinsed in cool water. Next, he raided the freezer, locating a sealed bag of diced tomatoes grown in the improvised greenhouse he’d built onto the side of the station. A packet of pancetta completed the recipe. He’d been saving the smoky treat for a special occasion, and this was it.
Slicking an iron skillet with deep green olive oil, he set it over the flame. Bits of salty pancetta were added and stirred until they glistened and turned golden brown. As the tomatoes were swirled in, a light sauce formed and started to bubble.
He glanced toward Andi. Her lashes flickered and her breath remained steady. A caramel-hued wave of glossy hair swept her cheek. She looked peaceful and so beautiful. No wonder his inner bear wanted her at any cost. In truth, he wanted her too. How could he resist? If a woman with Andi’s strong spirit and luscious curves had shown up at a MacBrun gathering, his kin would have fought to the death over her. No doubt she was what his fading bloodline needed. He’d never met a better candidate to take the honor of Ursa Regina, the queen of the bears.
Concentrating on the task at hand, he struggled to keep his thoughts on track. Over and over again, he reminded himself Andi was not a stray cub to adopt. The MacBruns no longer lived by the rules of a medieval village, but some ancient guidelines still applied. Secrecy remained a priority. Only volunteers joined the ranks. Claim-biting an unwilling woman remained an unethical thing. No one in his extended clan would tolerate such risky behavior. Worst of all, his mother would be appalled by his actions. He owed it to his ancestors to treat Andi with respect and preserve her free will. The initial bite, delivered in a careless moment, must be allowed to wear off and the mistake not repeated.
The water came to a subdued boil. He plunged two generous fistfuls of linguini into the pot and stirred it with a wooden spoon. A quick glance out the window revealed the crescent moon hovering in the center of the sky; its outline exactly matched the mark on Andi’s throat. The bear pheromones would be active in her bloodstream until the next full moon. If she had no further intimate contact with him, Andi would not become a she-bear. She could return to her normal life, possibly unaware she’d come so near an uncanny fate.
She’s ambitious and has her life well underway. The right thing to do is let her go. Don’t force her to carry your burdens.
His thoughts wandered in circles, always returning to the same tragic point. If he’d not bitten her, could a woman like Andi ever be interested in a man like him? Sadly, he’d never know. That brought him back to the heart of the problem, and he’d start the cycle again.
Lifting the pot off the stove, he tipped the steaming contents into the steel colander he’d set in the sink. He preferred draining the pasta a minute early and then allowing it to finish cooking to al dente in its own heat. Once drained, he stirred the firm pasta into the light sauce he’d made. As a final step, he added a bit of butter and folded in the pungent basil leaves. He heaped the pasta high onto a platter and carried it to the table.
Andi rose on one elbow. “Wow. Something smells delicious. I’m so light-headed, for a moment, I thought I was dreaming.”
“Dinner’s ready. You’ll feel better after you eat.”
She pushed the cover aside and sat. “My God, I slept so hard. I forgot I was wearing your pajamas.” Rising from the couch, she adjusted the fabric and walked to the table. “This looks fantastic! You made all this? Wish I could cook. How long have I been asleep?”
“Not long. Less than thirty minutes.”
“I feel like I slept all winter.”
Pulling a chair out for her, he motioned for her to sit. “I’m sure you
needed it.”
“Your couch is comfortable.” When the platter of pasta caught her attention, her stomach growled. “How embarrassing!” She laughed as she sat. “Take it as a compliment to the chef.”
Picking up two large spoons, he served her first, piling her plate with a generous mound of steaming linguini dotted with crimson tomato and emerald-green herbs.
A lovely smile crossed her face, lighting her eyes. “I can’t even remember the last time someone cooked for me. It was probably my mother.” She waited until he sat and served himself before she picked up her fork. “It’s not a very ladylike thing to say, but I’m hungry as a bear!”
He winced, grateful she hadn’t looked directly at him when she said it.
“Your meal looks great.” She speared a portion of pasta and twirled it onto her fork. “So fragrant.” Sampling the first bite, she closed her eyes. “Yum. I crave these flavors. When I order a pasta dish in a restaurant, it’s never this simple or fresh.”
The pleasure on her face pierced his heart. He’d made her happy. For far too long, the sweet sensations of sitting at a table across from a smiling companion had been absent from his life. At that moment, his self-imposed exile from a mate or lover wore dangerously thin. The bear growled in the back of his thoughts, We want to keep her.
He forced himself to taste the food, feeling much too nervous to eat, but it wouldn’t look good if he didn’t even attempt to share the meal. In reality, his appetite solely focused on her. “Andi?” He said her name and then forgot what he wanted to ask.
She swallowed a bite and dabbed her mouth with a paper napkin. “Yes?”
Setting his fork down, he looked at her. “Before your car accident, what were your plans?”
“In general, or for my day?”
He noticed she had a tiny dimple in her cheek when she smiled. “Tell me anything.”