Page 19 of Grin and Bear It

TWENTY

Thora opened her mouth to deliver a scathing response, but movement in the crowd caught her eye. The elderly tiger shifter—Louisa—watched from the edge of the gathering, her amber gaze fixed on Thora with an expression somewhere between satisfaction and concern.

More unsettling, the witch from the herb cart stood beside her, gray eyes sparkling as if sharing a private joke. Unlike everyone else’s expressions of shock or amusement, these two women appeared completely unsurprised by the turn of events—as if they’d expected it all along.

“No comment,” Thora managed, struggling to maintain dignity while her body moved in perfect synchronization with Artair’s.

They navigated away from the shop, their matched strides drawing stares and poorly concealed laughter from passersby. The golden tether glimmered between them, a constant reminder of their forced proximity.

“This is a disaster,” Thora muttered as they reached a quieter side street. “I can’t hunt my target while attached to you.”

“And I can’t run my company while playing babysitter to a bounty hunter,” Artair retorted. “Yet here we are.”

The synchronization spell began to fade, allowing them to move independently again—though still confined by the tether’s ten-foot limit. Thora used the freedom to put as much distance between them as the magic would allow, which wasn’t nearly enough to clear her head of his intoxicating scent.

“So what now?” she asked, crossing her arms, partly as a barrier against her own unwanted reactions.

Artair checked his watch—an expensive timepiece that probably cost more than everything Thora owned. The simple motion drew her attention to his wrists, strong and defined.

“Now, I have meetings that can’t be postponed,” he said. “Which means you’ll be attending them too, whether either of us likes it.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Deadly.” His expression hardened, though his eyes betrayed a flash of something else when they met hers—a heat that had nothing to do with anger. “I don’t know you, I don’t trust you, and I’m not about to let this... inconvenience derail my responsibilities.”

The command in his voice sent an unexpected shiver down Thora’s spine—not of fear, but of something far more dangerous. Her sabertooth preened in his display of dominance.

Artair continued, seemingly unaware of her inner turmoil. “You hunted a bounty in my town without proper authorization and assaulted me in public. Consider yourself lucky I’m not having Sheriff Ironclaw lock you up for the duration.”

The threat should have angered her. Instead, she found herself responding to the sheer alpha energy he projected. Her sabertooth stretched toward him, curious and challenged rather than intimidated.

Thora bristled at her own response, fighting for control. She’d made the mistake—spectacular as it was—and now she had to live with the consequences. For at least twelve hours.

“Fine,” she conceded reluctantly. “But I have conditions. One: I keep my weapons. Two: I get unrestricted access to information about my actual target while we’re stuck together. Three: you help me locate Ajax Blackwater once this tether dissolves.”

Artair considered her demands, his expression calculating. She couldn’t help but admire his composed assessment, even as she prepared to negotiate hard for her terms.

“Counter-offer,” he said finally. “One: you keep your weapons sheathed at all times. Two: I’ll provide what information I can about your target through official channels only. Three: I’ll consider helping you locate him if—and only if—you prove trustworthy during our time together.”

They stared each other down, neither willing to back down first. The golden tether pulsed between them, responding to their mutual tension. The air between them charged with something that wasn’t quite confrontation and wasn’t quite attraction, but a volatile blend of both.

“Deal,” Thora said finally, extending her hand.

Artair took it, his larger palm engulfing hers. A spark of something—not quite electrical, not entirely magical—passed between them at the contact. Heat bloomed where their skin touched, racing up her arm and spreading throughout her body. Her sabertooth surged toward the sensation with unprecedented enthusiasm.

From Artair’s sharp intake of breath and the sudden dilation of his pupils, he’d felt it too. His scent spiked with surprise and unmistakable desire, followed quickly by confusion. He withdrew his hand as if burned, but not before Thora caught the slight tremor in his fingers.

“Starting now,” he confirmed, voice rougher than before.

As they began walking toward whatever business awaited them, Thora caught one last glimpse of Louisa and theherb witch watching from across the square. The two women exchanged knowing glances before disappearing into the crowd.

Something told her that this “accident” might not be as random as it appeared. But that was a mystery for another time. Right now, she had twelve to twenty-four hours of forced proximity to survive with the most powerful—and disturbingly attractive—man in Enchanted Falls. A man who already had every reason to dislike her, yet whose body betrayed the same unwilling attraction that plagued her own.

The tether glimmered between them, golden and unyielding, as they made their way through the heart of a town that Thora already suspected would complicate her carefully ordered life in ways she couldn’t begin to imagine.

And deep within her, her sabertooth purred with satisfaction, as if somehow, against all logic and likelihood, it had gotten exactly what it wanted.

TWENTY-ONE

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