Page 7 of Gentle Giant

Surprise filled me when I spotted the items she was holding. She had a knife in one hand and a large circular object in the other, something that looked like a cooking tool I’d seen humans use around campfires.

“Human female!” I called out. “I am coming inside.”

She shrieked and the knife slipped from her hand. Not pausing to retrieve it, she rushed up a staircase, still gripping the cooking tool.

The front door was locked, but I broke it open with a single kick. Wood splintered and the door hung at an odd angle. I pushed it aside and headed for the stairs, eager to reach myhuman female. I hadn’t gotten a good look at her yet and wasn’t sure she was the woman from my vision. If she wasn’t the female I was looking for, I would erase her memories of our encounter and leave her alone.

Her sweet scent called to me as I walked farther into the house. As I followed her upstairs, the tiny boards creaked under my feet. A door slammed at the end of a narrow passage that reminded me of the smallest areas of the cavern I called home.

Once I reached the door, I pressed my hand to it and listened to the rapid breathing on the other side. So close. She was so close, and the enticing scent of her caused my loins to tighten. I hoped she would agree to mate with me soon. Great Spirit, how I craved her.

She had to be the one. The woman from my vision. Why else would her scent affect me so intensely? My pulse spiked and my blood heated with desire as I took another deep inhale.

“Human female,” I said, “please open the door. I promise I will not harm you.” I didn’t know how close she was standing to the door, otherwise I would’ve broken it down already. I didn’t want to accidentally hurt her when I kicked it open.

“What-what do you want?” she asked in a trembling voice.

“I wish to look upon you. I wish to know your name.” Anticipation rushed through me, and I watched the doorknob to see if she would comply with my wishes.

“Go away,” she said. “I-I’m armed. Don’t make me hurt you. I have a gun. I-I’ll shoot you. Honest I will.”

A grin tugged at my lips. I’d watched her drop the knife downstairs, and I knew she had nothing but the cooking tool. Guns held a particular metallic scent, and I didn’t detect the smell no matter how many times I inhaled. She was lying. Bluffing.

While I admired her bravery, I would not leave. Not until I glimpsed her face. Not until I established her identity.

“If you do not open the door, sweet human, I will have to break it down.” I backed up a step, preparing to kick at the door, when I heard a sudden sliding noise in the room, wood scraping against wood, and something thumped into the door.

“Good luck with that,” she said in a wry tone that gave me pause. It sounded like she was taunting me, daring me to break open the door.

“Move away from the door so you don’t get hurt,” I said in a booming voice, “I am coming in.”

HAILEY

My muscles achedfrom pushing the heavy dresser in front of the door. I doubted it would keep the big Sasquatch out of the bedroom, but I hoped it would at least slow him down. I had a plan. Sort of.

With a mournful sigh, I abandoned the cast iron skillet. After setting it down quietly on the bed, I slipped into a pair of boots and donned my bathrobe for extra warmth, remembering how cold it had been during the early morning hike I’d taken today. I wished I had my jacket, but it was hanging downstairs near the front door. I also wished I had time to put on proper clothes, but my pajamas and a bathrobe would have to suffice.

I tried not to think about the thirty miles that stretched between the cabin and the nearest town.

After taking a deep, steadying breath, I tiptoed to the window and slowly opened it, praying Mr. Sasquatch wouldn’t hear. And praying I wouldn’t break my neck when I climbed down.

I slung my feet out the window, only for a loud crash to echo behind me. I shrieked and peered over my shoulder, too stunned to move. My eyes locked with pale blue eyes and a familiar face.

It washim.

The beast from my dreams.

Too many seconds passed as I gaped at him like an idiot. Likewise, he stared at me, wearing an expression akin to shocked wonder.

Need to move. Need to escape.

I turned and started climbing down, trying to find a grove for my feet as I clung to the windowsill. My fingers ached and my stomach dropped when I glanced at the ground below. So far. If I fell, I would definitely break something.

My gaze went back to him, and I gasped when he walked closer, his eyes suddenly filled with worry. He held his hands out as though in a show of peace.

Why had I been dreaming about him? For two months now, I’d glimpsed his face nightly in my dreams, leaned into his hands as he cupped my face, and longed for him to take me in his arms and hold me. I’d also ached for him, frequently waking up in a sweat with my center pulsing, my blood heated with desire. What could it mean?

Part of me wanted to talk to him. Wanted to find out the significance of my dreams. But that would be crazy. One didn’t sit down and have a nice quiet chat with the big hairy man-beast who just broke into your house.

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