Page 24 of Pack to the Wall

Their eyes locked. Something electric sparked between them, primitive and undeniable. Her full lips parted slightly, and the scent of her desire mixed with rain and earth threatened to overwhelm his control.

"You showed bravery tonight too," he murmured, his voice deepening to a primal register. "Coming into the jungle, into danger, for a child you'd never met." He brushed a wet strand of hair from her cheek, letting his fingers linger. "That's the kind of mate I've always wanted."

"Mate?" The word hung between them, weighted with possibility.

Zev didn't answer with words. He didn't need to. His lips found hers with unerring precision, claiming them in a kiss that started gentle but quickly blazed into something raw and honest. Her mouth opened under his, yielding and demanding all at once. His hands spanned her waist, lifting her slightly as her arms wound around his neck.

The kiss deepened, his tongue sweeping into her mouth to taste her. She made a soft sound—half sigh, half moan—that his wolf recognized as surrender and triumph combined.

When they finally broke apart, both breathless, Zev noticed the rain had stopped. Through the cave entrance, moonlight once again painted the jungle.

But neither moved to leave.

NINE

CHRISSY

Chrissy stretched luxuriously across the king-sized bed in the Orchid villa. The first rays of sunlight streamed through her open balcony doors, painting golden-amber shaped patterns across her naked body. She hadn't bothered with pajamas last night. Her skin had felt too electric and hypersensitive after that kiss between her and Zev in the cave.

That kiss.

Her fingers drifted to her lips, still swollen from Zev's passionate attention. No man had ever kissed her like that—like she was both precious treasure and untamed wilderness, something to be both worshipped and conquered. The memory sent heat spiraling through her core, settling low in her belly.

"Well, good morning to me," she murmured to herself, rolling onto her back and staring at the teak ceiling.

Today, she felt completely and gloriously alive. Three days on Isle Luna had done what a year of expensive spa treatments and designer clothes couldn't—restored her soul. And one night with Zev had awakened parts of her she'd thought deadened by Marty's constant control.

Zev was nothing like Marty. Where Marty demanded, Zev offered. Where Marty schemed, Zev protected. The contrast was so stark it almost made her laugh.

"Celebrity Boyfriend Number Three said I laughed too loud," she mused aloud, thinking of the actor who'd lasted all of two weeks before his ego couldn't handle her spotlight. "Wonder what Zev thinks of my laugh?"

The question sent a delicious shiver through her. She wanted to hear him answer it. Wanted to know every thought that crossed behind those intense blue eyes when he looked at her.

That look he gave her in the cave when the rain had stopped but neither of them moved to leave—pure possession tempered with something so tender it made her chest ache all over again.

"What the hell am I doing?" Chrissy sat up, running her fingers through her tousled dark hair. "I've known him for three days."

But it felt like longer. Felt like forever. Like her soul had been waiting patiently inside her half-asleep until he'd jolted it fully awake with that single, scorching kiss.

"And then he didn't even kiss me goodnight at my door," she huffed, swinging her legs over the side of the bed.

She remembered how he'd walked her back to her villa with his large hand protective at her lower back. How he'd hesitated at her door, his eyes darkening to midnight as they dropped to her lips. For one breathless moment, she'd thought he'd kiss her again.

Instead, he'd brushed a knuckle down her cheek and said, "Sweet dreams, Chrissy," in that low, rumbling voice that seemed to vibrate directly into her bones.

"That's what you call taking it one step at a time?" She stood, stretching her arms above her head. "You turn me inside out with one kiss and then just... walk away?"

But she knew why. He'd sensed her vulnerability and her need for space after everything with Marty. Even wanting her with an intensity she could practically taste in the air between them, he'd put her comfort first.

"OK, I get it. You're perfect," she told the empty room, a smile curving her lips. "But tonight, if you pull that gentleman crap again, I'm taking matters into my own hands."

The thought of being the aggressor sent an unexpected thrill through her. With Marty, with the celebrity boyfriends, with everyone in her life lately—she'd been reactive and responding to their demands. But with Zev? She could take what she wanted, and she knew he would let her.

And what she wanted was another taste of that wild, untamed power he kept carefully leashed beneath his control.

"Mate," she whispered, testing the word on her tongue. It had sounded primitive when he'd said it. Significant. Like it meant something far deeper than "girlfriend" or even "partner."

Whatever it meant, she wanted to find out.

---