Silver Mine

by Vivian Arend

  “You’re not mates, are you?”

  Shelley’s eyes snapped wide, and she jerked her fingers from his.

  Chase paused. Checked inside. He was very attracted to the woman, that was true, and his wolf seemed to be the more attentive of the two sides of his nature, but even that beast wasn’t demanding any more than usual when presented with someone he was attracted to. Wolves liked sex. Period. “It’s not a mating thing.”

  “Oh God, no, not mates.” Shelley spat out the words at the same time as he did, as if desperate to make the declaration.

  The panic on her part seemed out of place, especially in light of their undeniable physical lust. Chase fought his desire to sweep the woman up like a caveman and remove her to a private place where they could ravish each other until they were both rather exhausted.

  He was curious why her words seemed in total opposition to what her body so loudly stated.

  A series of loud bangs sounded from their right. Caroline and the crowd of humans around them all jerked their heads to see what caused the disturbance, but the man in front of Shelley didn’t so much as twitch. As his visual contact remained unbroken, the pounding in her chest kicked up a notch.

  She had no wolf, or at least not one that would come to the surface for more than brief moments, and never enough to allow her to shift. And with no real wolf, she could have no mate—that much the Omegas and pack leadership had been able to dreg up from historical records. Outcast, unwanted. Neither human enough to be tolerated nor mutant enough to be despised, it had taken years before she’d found a place of peace in her heart for who she was.

  Not-wolf. Not-human. Just…Shelley.

  But staring into this man’s eyes? For one split second when Caroline had asked if they were mates, Shelley had experienced that torturous twist in her belly of longing for something that could never be.

  Chase adjusted position, lowering his trim body to the grass on the edge of their blanket. The rush of voices around them rose in laughter, but he remained silent. Still staring.

  She curled her arms around her torso, and his gaze fell, traveling over her slowly, methodically. Shelley’s elusive wolf side was as active as she ever got, bumping upward and signaling high interest in the sexy stranger. A line of goose bumps rose on her arm, and when he stroked the back of his fingers up her forearm, she bit her lips to stop from groaning.

  Instead, she leaned back slightly. “Stop that.”

  Chase shook his head and blinked, drawing his hand away in a flustered manner. “I beg your pardon. I don’t know—sorry. I won’t do it again.”

  Her heart fell, because her entire body was screaming for him to do it again, and do more.

  But he was a shifter, and she didn’t fool around with shifters. Not anymore. That way led madness.

  She nodded tightly. “No worries. We’re just leaving. I hope you have a good trip to Whitehorse. Make sure you check out the Moonshine Inn. Best beer in town, I hear.”

  She reached down to grab the blanket, her other hand pulling the basket closer, frantic to escape. Chase held up his hand to stop her.

  “Don’t. I didn’t mean to make you leave. It’s time to call it a night anyway.”

  He rose to his feet, Shelley scrambling to follow. “I’m sorry, I’m being totally rude, but it’s just—”

  His smile lit his face, knocked off the rough edges and made him even more handsome. “You don’t need to explain. I feel your discomfort, and upsetting you was never my intention. Have a nice evening with your sister.”

  He dipped his chin, and regret arrived, but not hard enough for her to actually stop him from walking away. Although the sight of his ass in those faded, well-fitting pants made her mouth water.

  Something hit her arm, and she turned to discover Caroline glaring at her. Shelley rubbed her bruised biceps. “Ouch. What’s that for?”

  “You turkey. That’s not how you’re supposed to act around a good-looking fellow like that.”

  “He’s only in town for a few days. He’s a shifter.”

  “You nearly swallowed your tongue, he pushed all your buttons.” Caroline stared over the field, and Shelley followed her line of vision just in time for Chase to disappear into the crowds wandering the street fair. “Lost opportunity, that’s all I’m saying, Shell.”

  “Oh, stop it.” She collapsed back to the blanket, some of the fun and happiness of the past hours gone. “I’m getting settled in, and I don’t need a man to make me happy. Or complete. Or…whatever.”

  Caroline grinned. “Okay, fine, but at least acknowledge that even if you don’t want one for long term, men are dandy things to enjoy for the short term.”

  “I don’t want to talk sex with you, sis.”

  “You are such a weird wolf.” Caroline squeezed her tight as if to ease the sting from her words. “Talking about sex with wolves is like breathing. Since you insist, I’ll zip my mouth after this, but at some point please reconsider your stand on abstinence. Because frankly, your moaning will drive me nuts since I know some action would make you a whole lot more relaxed.”

  How her sister had managed to adapt to the wolf culture so well amazed her. “You’re such a weird human.”

  Caroline laughed.

  Another oooh rose from the crowd as a huge batch of balloons were released into the air, filling the bright sky with a rainbow of colour as the wind got hold of them. Some swirled in circles, back eddying in the twisted currents over the Yukon River before escaping into the higher airstreams and lofting into the north.

  Shelley watched the bits of latex and ribbon spread out, impossible to gather back, each carrying a tiny piece of bright pollution into the vast wilderness of the territory. Pretty, yet destructive.

  The ache inside to belong felt bigger than before, and she sighed. Part of her loneliness was her own choice. Her own decision to live life this way. She’d planned to take the positive with the negative, but the lingering scent of the sexy shifter made her reconsider.

  Perhaps she had a few items on her list she should consider revising. Maybe the next time she met someone who turned her on, she could have a little fun—even if they were a shifter.

  Life was supposed to be about change. It was high time she remembered that.

  Chapter Four

  Caroline plopped the steaming coffee down on the bedside table and watched as Evan slowly woke. He rolled over, sniffing toward the rising aroma.

  “You are a goddess,” he moaned.

  With the sheet tangled around his naked body he looked like a Greek god, so they were even for once. “You’re so easy to please.”

  He grinned and rearranged himself until he was level enough to pull back a deep sip. “You know it. I’m a simple man, really.”

  She sat on the edge of the bed and admired him. This whole sleeping-with-the-Alpha thing was working out way better than she’d expected. He was a generous lover, and besides that, their friendship had remained rock solid. “I’ve got news for you, once your brain cells engage.”

  “Spill.” He sat up and leaned against the headboard. Evan crossed his arms behind his head, biceps bulging nicely.

  Hmmm, distracting. Caroline shook herself back to attention.

  “There’s been a rash of hotel bookings. I think you’re right—the bear shindig that was making all that noise up north is moving location from Dawson City to Whitehorse.”

  His relaxed persona vanished. “Damn, really? I mean, hey, about time…”

  She laughed. “You tricky bastard. You were just guessing.”

  Evan grimaced. “No, I figured they’d head here, I just hoped it would be later than sooner. You ever have a crowd of bear shifters around?”

  Caroline thought through previous conventions that had been held in the hotel while she’d worked there. “When I was young my stepdad took us to West Edmonton Mall, and we ran into a huge bear gathering—something to do with the hockey season—but up north? Never.”

  “They aren’t normal guests,
let’s just put it that way.” Evan took another swallow of his coffee then pointed his cup at her. “Book them carefully. Try to find out alliances when they call, and place them on different floors. That might help matters.”

  “Don’t think we need to worry. Sounds as if each faction is taking a different part of the city. We’ve got the Harrison clan registering.”

  Evan whistled.

  “That good, eh?” she asked.

  “He’s one of the bigwigs this time around. Last rumors I heard, he might end up in charge of the whole shooting match.”

  “I still don’t believe bears vote to organize their territories.”

  Evan grinned at her over his mug. “Yeah, the wolf way is so much more exciting. Blood matches, throats being ripped apart in surprise attacks…”

  She deliberately yawned. “Right. The buyouts you’re fooling around with right now simply thrill me to pieces.”

  Was she an adrenaline junkie? Maybe it was wrong for her to be energized by a potentially volatile situation in Whitehorse, but this was part of the reason she’d always gotten along with shifters.

  Evan rolled his eyes as he put his cup aside. “Damn, you’re happy about this.”

  Oops. She hid her delight a little harder. “No, of course not.”

  “You are so.”

  “Am not.”

  Evan lunged forward and grabbed her by the wrist, dragging her toward him and flipping her under his body. He settled in nicely, his weight trapping her in place. “You. Are. Trouble. With a capital T.”

  “Takes one to know one…”

  Evan lowered his head and kissed her neck. “Mischief is your middle name. I’m still not exactly sure why you were so keen on us becoming lovers, but I will say the last few weeks have certainly been interesting.”

  A shiver shook her. “I’ve kind of enjoyed myself as well.”

  He tucked his nose against her throat and took a deep, deep breath.

  Caroline slapped his bare shoulder. “Stop that. No matter how hard you sniff me, it’s not going to change the facts. I’m not your mate.”

  He shook his head sorrowfully. “Too damn bad, because you, my darling, are a pistol.”

  She rocked her hips under him. “You, sir, have a pistol. Care to show me your ammunition?”

  He rolled them again, placing her on top. “All this talk of guns. It’s just not right for a Canadian girl. You’re supposed to be a pacifist. A peacemaker.”

  She wiggled until she straddled his hips. “I like a good fight as much as the next girl.”

  “You like to fight far more than the next girl.”

  “Which is why, right now, I’m the perfect partner for you. Temporary partner.”

  Evan cupped her face gently. “I do like you, Caroline Bradley. Now, come and wake me up properly with your own dirty, peacekeeping self.”

  She stripped off her top and enjoyed the lust that rose in his eyes. The concerns of hotel organization during the upcoming bear territory talks could wait.

  “I thought you’d never ask…”

  The buzzer on the other side of the door went off for about three seconds before switching to a high-pitched squeal that stopped abruptly. Chase already had his finger off the button, but not far enough to avoid the snap of an electrical shock.

  “Shit.” He backed away from the glass door and wiggled his fingers to relieve the pain. “Dammit.”

  He was still cussing lightly when the glass door opened half an inch then jerked to a stop before he could see into the clinic.

  “You got the place booby-trapped?” he grumbled. “I was told you were the place to visit, but if you’re electrocuting patients, I’ll wait until the next time I’m in town.”

  The door wiggled, gaining another inch clearance. “I don’t know why anyone told you to come here. The clinic’s not open. I’m still getting all the bugs out of the system.”

  Something crashed as the woman spoke, but even the distraction couldn’t stop him from recognizing that voice.

  Oh no. Shelley.

  Chase was three seconds away from hightailing it without seeing anyone. Because seeing her wasn’t a good idea.

  “Just a second. I think I’ve got it.” Shelley wiggled the door and he was caught. The door swung wide open, and they were back to being trapped in a time warp—staring at each other.

  Her hair was a mess. Bits of plaster and wood decorated the unruly tangle. There was a streak of paint across her cheek and nose, her T-shirt also dabbled with spots. A thin T-shirt, so well-worn he imagined it would be soft under his fingers. It was certainly thin enough he could tell she wasn’t wearing a bra, and her nipples were—

  She snapped upright, and he jerked his gaze back to her face.

  “The clinic’s not open yet,” she repeated.

  If this weren’t important, he would have so walked away. But inside, that place where his wolf and cat selves were prone to take over at times? They’d made it clear they wanted this. “I have to see a…doctor. Before I go bush again.”

  Her cheeks brightened. “Oh. Right.”

  She swallowed hard but moved out of the way. He stepped in over the remains of a pallet filled with tile, set exactly where it shouldn’t have been for access to the main room. There were broken tiles piled in one corner of the shop and a cutter beside them. “Having troubles with the flooring?”

  Shelley sighed. “Well, actually, yeah. But I think I’ve figured it out. Come on. If you really need to be here, I’ll wash my hands and we can talk. My office is pretty much done.”

  She led him into a nicely organized room with an efficient-looking desk and file system. And only about three feet of floor space. “This won’t work.”

  She’d already settled behind the desk, obviously using it as a safety barrier between them. “We can talk here first. We’ll go elsewhere if needed.”

  Chase shrugged. “You’re the doctor.”

  “Vet. I have vet training.” She frowned. “You sure you need to see me?”

  He nodded. “Shifted form isn’t healing. I hope you can tell me why.”

  She pulled out a pad of paper and asked him questions. The usual overall health and history. When he mentioned his Métis blood, her eyes widened but she stayed professional. Now that she was over her initial shock, she’d slipped into the smoothest bedside manner he’d ever seen.

  His cock got hard just thinking about beds and her at the same time.

  Her scent floored him. This time, it wasn’t just the wolf that was interested, but the cougar as well, and that bastard was the pickiest thing when it came to females.

  “Chase.”

  He’d gone and lost all train of thought. “Sorry. What?”

  “I asked if you’ve got the injury in all three forms? Since you’re Métis.”

  He shook his head. “No. Or, I don’t think so. I’ve only shifted to the cat and back to human since the accident.”

  She nodded and laid aside the notepad. “Follow me. You’re right. This space won’t be big enough for your cougar. I would like to examine all your forms, please, if you don’t mind.”

  He followed her into the back where there was a large stainless steel table in a sparkling clean examining room. Now his troubles started, more than the fact he had to hide his erection from her. Damn, she smelt good. “I don’t mind, but I might not be able to oblige.”

  Shelley paused in the middle of washing her hands. “Reason?”

  “Can’t control the shift.”

  Her face went white, and for a second he thought she might actually pass out on him. She clutched the sides of the sink. “No control? But you can shift when you want?”

  He nodded, loosing the top button on his shirt. “I can go furry, but the beasts decide who gets to come out and play, so to speak. My wolf’s been pouting lately. Only been the cat showing up.”

  She took a deep breath. “Okay, that might make it a little more difficult, but let’s see what we can do.” She patted the top of the table. �
�First, if you don’t mind. Sit here and let me see the marks on your human form.”

  She turned away under the excuse of grabbing her instruments, but honestly she couldn’t bear to watch him strip off his shirt. The buttons had sounded loud in her ears, and the thought of having this delicious man half-naked in her office—oh boy.

  She was a dirty pervert, the thoughts running through her brain.

  The past three nights she’d been thinking about him and her lost opportunity at the party. Caroline had been kind and stopped teasing after only a couple more digs. Shelley had been the one to administer chastisement for the next while. She could have had a man in her bed, but instead she was making herself come in the middle of the night, waking up to feverish dreams, all of which involved Chase.

  Now he was here and she had to touch him.

  She was either being punished or rewarded, and she wasn’t sure which.

  “I’m ready.”

  Slow and steady, there was a teasing lilt to his voice, as if he knew she was hiding as she gathered tools. Shelley braced herself and lifted her chin as she turned back.

  She should have grabbed a towel to catch her drool. My, oh my, he was a fine specimen. Sharply muscular, the combination of wolf and cat turning his leanness into hard lines. “You must have the most incredible metabolism,” she commented.

  “Hard to take in too many calories, that’s for sure.”

  Ripped. Strong. Shelley took his blood pressure and did all the routine checks as stoically as possible, but there was no way to stop him from scenting how turned on she was. His skin was hot under her fingers as she removed the blood pressure cuff from his biceps, and she fought to not linger as she held the stethoscope to his chest.

  Sweet mercy, the hair on his chest was thicker than your average wolf—perhaps his cat nature coming to the fore. She imagined petting him, playing her fingertips through the soft curls. Working her way lower until—

  It wasn’t professional of her to think that way. It wasn’t professional to be feeling any of the things she was feeling, but damn if she could stop herself.