by Kit Tunstall
It was still cold as all hell, but he was suddenly hot on the inside. A raging erection rose between his legs, and where her mouth pressed against his neck as she breathed in and out, he swore the skin was on fire.
Fuck her. His bear was responding eagerly to the woman in his arms. Clearly, the bear had decided this was a woman to mate with, and Rafe tried to find a way to reason with that side of himself as he broke into a run, headed back to his cabin.
He winced at the cold against his bare feet, wishing for his paws instead. Unfortunately, he couldn’t carry an unconscious woman in his bear form. If she had been even moderately awake, he could have put her on his back and instructed her to hold on, but she was out. That was probably for the best, because he couldn’t imagine a scenario where a complete stranger would be okay with him changing to a bear and giving her a ride.
His bear growled fiercely in the back of his mind, and he muttered something less than polite to shut it up. Yes, he was aware of how urgently the bear wanted to mark the woman as theirs, but Rafe still had a shred of common sense. The snow was doing its job and helping him control the mating frenzy his bear was trying to incite.
As he searched for a way to bring his bear in check, he couldn’t help glancing down at the woman in his arms. She was soft and rounded in all the right places, with the kind of body a man could hold onto and sink into as he fucked her lustily. She could also accommodate his length and his height. It was impossible to be certain through her coat and jeans, but he thought she had generous breasts and a soft tummy.
Thinking of his cock inside her made him roar with approval in concert with his bear’s growl. Thoughts of why he shouldn’t desire her, or trying to persuade his bear that she wasn’t a suitable mate, fled from his mind the longer he held her. She belonged to them, though she didn’t know it yet.
As he approached his cabin, ducking inside where a warm fire burned, he laid her down on the floor beside the fireplace before running outside to retrieve his clothes. In his head, his bear was demanding he take her, bite her, and mark her as theirs. “Shut up,” he said grumpily. “I want to as well, but now isn’t the time. Control yourself.”
With his surrender and admission he also wanted her, his bear side decided to quiet down, obviously satisfied with his acquiescence. Rafe was thankful for that as he returned to the house, slipping on his clothes in the kitchen before going to the living room to check over the woman who had crashed her car at the sight of a grizzly bear in the woods.
She had curled onto her side, facing the fire, and she appeared to be deeply asleep. This time, he knelt on the floor beside her, checking her pulse with a frown of concern. Thankfully, it was steady and strong under his hand.
They were too far from civilization to make it practical to get her to the hospital, especially in these circumstances. It had been a long time since his training as an Army medic, but he remembered how to monitor a concussion, and he figured it would be safe enough to move her to a bed. The only bed in the cabin. His bed.
As he scooped her up off the floor and back into his arms, his body was already familiar with the feel of hers. She seemed to settle right against him as though they had been made to fit together.
He groaned softly, his cock twitching against the zipper of his jeans, since he hadn’t taken time for underwear. This was a special kind of torture. Striding down the hall, he elbowed open the door to the bedroom and laid her carefully on the bed. With only the one in the small cabin, they would have to make do.
Fortunately, it was a king-size, because he liked to spread out. Occasionally, he even slept on the bed in bear form, though his bear usually preferred to be in the outdoors for naps. However, there was a lazy side to his inner bear, and they had spent many happy afternoons napping away the winter days tucked up in that bed.
Now, the bed was more tempting than ever with its newest addition, and he could easily imagine spending many happy days tucked up with her under the gray comforter. He didn’t even know her name, or anything about her, but it took all his willpower not to join her on the mattress.
Instead, he rustled through his drawers until he found a flannel shirt that had shrank in the dryer. He thought it would fit her without swallowing her.
It was awkward to undress someone who was completely unresponsive, other than the occasional groan. It was particularly awkward when he knew the undressing would not be leading to the coupling his bear anticipated. Now wasn’t the time to mate with her. She clearly needed healing and attention, and he reminded his bear of that when it gave him an impatient growl.
Finally, he had her out of the wet jacket and jeans before stripping off the sweater she wore underneath. He groaned at the sight of her breasts pressing against the black bra, threatening to spill over. He only allowed himself a brief glance, not wanting to violate her privacy, but the sight of her lush cleavage was enough to fuel his masturbatory fantasies for months to come. At least until he emerged from his winter cycle and returned to the city for spring.
The flannel fit, falling almost to her knees, but the sleeves are way too long. He folded them up before buttoning the shirt, careful to avoid the temptation of touching her breasts. He wasn’t going to be that guy.
When she was out of wet clothes, he tucked her under his blanket and started a fire in the bedroom fireplace. After assuring himself it was safe and burning steadily, he left his own bedroom and went back to his living room. He knew he would have to wake her every hour to check for worsening of her concussion, but he couldn’t allow himself to stay in the same room and be around that much temptation.
His bear was being a sulky bastard, muttering and groaning as though deprived of a favorite treat. Since Rafe was feeling particularly grumpy himself, and also as though he’d been denied his favorite treat, he couldn’t be too upset with the ursine side of him being so bad-tempered. He sat, staring moodily into the fire, as he waited for the time to count down to check on his unresponsive houseguest.
Chapter Three
Breanna’s head hurt worse than she could ever remember before. Even the couple of times in college when she partied late into the night, drinking far more than was wise, she had never had a headache like this the next morning. The pain came in waves, and each time she tried to open her eyes, it grew worse.
It took her a moment to figure out the reason having her eyes open was so painful. There was a light shining into them. Some sadistic jerk was doing his best to make her headache worse. “Leave me alone,” she muttered, trying to swat at the hand appearing before her face. A second later, a face came into view.
She blinked, uncertain if she was hallucinating along with the headache. “Who are you?” She couldn’t decide if her voice came out flirty or terrified. Or perhaps it was just sluggish and thick, because that was how her tongue felt. “Where am I?”
“Here in my cabin. You ran your car off the road, so I brought you here when I found you.”
Thoughts were starting to become more cohesive, and abruptly she realized she could be in far more danger in this comfy bed near a roaring fire than she had been in the cold car twisted into a tree. She was out in the middle of nowhere, in some guy’s cabin, and at his mercy. Just because he had rescued her from the wreck didn’t mean he had good intentions.
Forcing open her eyes, she stared at the man who was either her rescuer or worst nightmare. God, he was gorgeous. With dark brown hair, a narrow beard and mustache, a chiseled face defining perfection, and a large frame, he was practically a CGI version of every girl’s fantasy.
She blinked. CGI? That sounded wrong. Maybe he was a hallucination, if she was having side effects from a concussion. She vaguely remembered hitting her head anyway. At that reminder, the pain flared anew, making her gasp.
When her blue eyes clashed with his green ones, it didn’t help her clarify whether or not she was actually experiencing the moment or just dreaming it. His eyes reminded her of the bear that had been on her car, the animal that had indirectly caus
ed her accident when she had panicked. That bear had had the same eye color.
Slowly, she shook her head, wincing at the new flash of pain as she decided that was ridiculous. More likely, she had seen this man at some point when he had rescued her, and her swollen brain had incorporated his green eyes into the bear’s face that she had seen earlier.
That made far more sense than the idea of a bear and a man having the same shade of eyes—especially since bears probably didn’t have eye colors besides black or dark brown. She made a mental note to check that, along with determining if she had cell service out here, and her head throbbed again as though rejecting the thought of any mental endeavors.
With a small groan, she touched the side of her head, making her arm hurt with the movement. Looking down, she saw a long bandage wrapped around her forearm, and her questing fingers also found a thick bandage on her temple.
She met his gaze, giving him a tentative smile. “Thank you for rescuing me and patching me up.” How she hoped he wasn’t the serial killer-type, or the backwoods hermit-type, who intended to keep her as his kidnapped bride. Not only would that be terrifying, it would be disappointing as all heck to learn someone as hot as he was could be a nut job.
He lifted his shoulder. “It was nothing. Are you in pain?”
She nodded without thinking, and then uttered a small cry as another sharp pain pierced her head at the slight motion. “Oh, yeah. You know that pain scale?” At his nod, she added, “On a scale of one to ten, I’m at about a thousand right now.”
He gave her a small smile, which only made him sexier. “I think it’s safe enough to give you some ibuprofen or Tylenol now. I’ve been checking you every hour for the last six, and your eye your pupils are back to the same size. I was slightly concerned, because one had enlarged briefly, but by the time I checked to again, the difference had resolved. So, which would you prefer?”
She blinked, trying to follow his words through the invisible cotton muzzling her brain’s comprehension. “Um, ibuprofen?” She said it as more of a question, not entirely sure she was making the right choice. He had offered her selection of pain medicines, right? Apparently so, because he got up and returned shortly with a glass of water and four brown tablets.
She took them gratefully, and the water was pure heaven on her scratchy throat. She uttered a protest when he took it away before she could finish the rest of the glass.
“Don’t put too much in your stomach just yet, since you’re recovering from a concussion. You don’t want to vomit.”
She shuddered at the thought of throwing up in front of the stranger. She hated puking under any circumstances, but the idea of a hot guy seeing her that way made her cringe with embarrassment. Apparently her injuries weren’t going to kill her, or she wouldn’t be so worried about her appearance or the impression she made on this guy.
She settled back against the pillows, and he tucked her in carefully. It was only when she lifted her hand to move hair out of her face that she saw the flannel shirt and abruptly realized she no longer wore her own clothes. Her eyes widened, and she immediately did an internal scan of her body in search of pain or strangeness that shouldn’t be there, like between her legs.
Fortunately, she appeared to be wearing her underwear under the flannel shirt. Inhaling without thought, she discovered the shirt smelled like him—a curious mix of the outdoors, including pine, slight muskiness that was strange, but not unappealing, and a hint of cinnamon.
“Who undressed me?” She didn’t know if she wanted to hope for him having a wife in attendance, because that would mean at least a fellow woman had undressed her, but it would also mean he was involved with someone and off-limits.
She startled at the thought. Of course he was involved with someone. A man like him didn’t stay single unless there was something really wrong with him–mommy issues, inability to face grownup responsibility, or a potential serial killer.
She hoped it wasn’t any of those problems, but that would bring her back to the assumption he was involved with someone. She sighed softly, bracing herself for disappointment and adding the reminder she wasn’t his type anyway.
A hint of color appeared in his cheeks, but he smiled in an attempt to hide his discomfort, though it was still visible. “I’m sorry, but I couldn’t leave you in wet clothes. I was afraid you’d get pneumonia, and there’s no one else here. I swear I was a complete gentleman.”
Some impish impulse seized her, and she gave him a wink. “That’s too bad.” Immediately, that temptress fled, and her shyness returned. Breanna closed her eyes again, feigning instant sleep until she heard the door close behind him a few minutes later.
Only then did she allow herself to relax and ease into the slumber that beckoned. What had gotten into her, flirting with him like that? She often had internal impulses to say or do outrageous things, but she never gave in to those impulses. It was far easier to remain aloof and disconnected than try to be the fun girl when she was always to the shy, serious one. There was just something about the guy who’d rescued her and…the guy whose name she had forgotten to request. That was silly of her, but she supposed she should cut herself some slack under the circumstances.
***
Her enigmatic rescuer allowed her out of bed the next day after checking her pupils again. Breanna felt better, though her head still ached. It was awkward walking around in the flannel shirt he had given her, though certainly preferable to parading around in her underwear. He was so much larger than her that none of his other clothes had a chance of fitting, which was a new experience for her. She kind of liked it, almost as much as she enjoyed the scent of him embedded within the flannel.
She also liked the way he looked across the breakfast table as he offered her sausage, biscuits, and gravy, with coffee and orange juice. However, she soon discovered she didn’t like the reticence of her host. Being shy herself, she found it difficult to make small talk, and he certainly didn’t help matters with monosyllabic answers to everything she asked.
“Well, do you live here all the time?” She had at least managed to ascertain he owned the cabin, though she didn’t know why he’d been out on such a snowy night. If she’d had any sense, she wouldn’t have been out on the road either.
He shook his head, finally managing to give her more than one word answer. “Not most of the time, no. I usually winter here in the cabin, but I have a life in the city as well.”
She thought about asking which city, but decided not to press her luck. Rafe was clearly not the sharing type. At least she had discovered his name before they sat down for the late breakfast, so that brought the sum total of her knowledge of him to about ten facts.
What he lacked in conversation, he certainly made up for as eye candy, she conceded. Breanna rarely felt such an intense attraction to someone she had just met. To be honest, there hadn’t been that many men in the past who had interested her in any way.
She wasn’t frigid, but she had never really enjoyed dating, or the anxiety that went with it. It was awkward to be reserved and unconfident, so she had shied away from dating, for the most part. There had been a few young men who had managed to break through her reserve, but her longest relationship had been less than two months.
A pang shot through her as she remembered Derek Falco, with whom she’d share those two months. A twinge of longing swept through her, though it wasn’t for the ex-boyfriend. That was back when she was still in Julliard, before her parents had grown frustrated with her inability to perform in front of crowds and had insisted on her transferring to a state university. That had been intended as a humiliation in itself, because no one in the Dawson family had attended anything but Ivy League universities for at least six generations.
So she didn’t miss Derek so much as she missed feeling the music flow through her, and the easier life she’d had back then, when she was immersed in the notes and bonded with her piano. Before her musical talent had become yet another disappointment to her parents, since
her fear of crowds interfered with their career plans for her.
“Are you okay?” He asked the question grudgingly, as if he didn’t want to care, but did anyway.
She managed an overly bright smile. “I’m fine. I was just thinking about college.” She didn’t expound, and he didn’t ask for further information, so conversation soon died again. They finished their meal in silence, and she worked beside him in the kitchen to help clean up the mess with neither of them speaking. It was a surprisingly comfortable silence, considering their short acquaintance.
After they had finished, she glanced at the snow covering the ground, along with fat, fluffy flakes still falling from the sky. They were much slower than last night’s downfall, but enough to make it a daunting task to find her way back to her car. The thought of trekking back in the thick snow made her nervous. Taking a deep breath, she asked, “Do you have a landline up here? My cell phone isn’t working.”
She had checked that before coming down, finding it still in the pocket of the pants he had removed and draped across the footboard so they could dry. Since they had still been damp, she was in the flannel shirt, but hoped to have dry clothing soon. They were necessary for her to be able to leave the cozy cabin—something she was strangely reluctant to do. Something about her host drew her, even though he was almost as quiet as her.
He shook his head. “No, I come here to…hibernate.” There was a touch of amusement in his voice as he continued, “When I’m at the cabin, I want to be left alone. I don’t have a landline, but I do have a cell phone. The service is usually pretty good, but I guess the weather is interfering. You should be able to get hold of your friends or family once the snowfall stops.”
She shuddered, unable to hide her reaction. She could just imagine the earful her parents would deliver to her. It would be even worse if Richard answered the phone, and it seemed like he was constantly at their home since they had become engaged. She supposed if she had loved him, and their union had been a normal one, she would have enjoyed his proximity.