Page 25 of Wolf's Redemption

Bek dropped the ladle back into the stew with a plop. “Say what, now?”

“You need to blend in.” He gave a cute quirk of his eyebrow. “As best as you can. So strip.”

He tossed the clothing to her. It hit her in the chest, and she grabbed it before it slid to the floor. Damn that raspy voice of his. Combined with the words ‘take your clothes off’ and ‘strip’, she’d almost spontaneously combusted.

She glared at him and shifted away, holding up the clothing. It was an ankle-length dress of coarse wool in a dull gray with long sleeves. It looked to be all in one piece, with laces at the waist. Sure, she’d blend in, but if he thought she’d strip in front of him…Not. Going. To. Happen.

“No thanks. I think I’ll stay in my own clothes. Your coat mostly hides everything.”

He stopped rummaging and stared at her. “Women do not wear surcoats. Put the dress on, Rebekah.”

She put a hand on her hip. “Or what?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Or I’ll do it for you.”

She stared at him, measuring how serious he was. He raked his gaze over her and heat flared in his eyes. Yeah, he’d like an excuse to get his hands on her again.

She glared at him. “Fine. Turn around.”

“Oh, no, sweetheart.” He crossed his arms over his chest and planted his feet firmly forward. “I fell for that once. You will not catch me off guard again.”

Bek bared her teeth at him. She wrenched his surcoat off her shoulders and dumped it on the floor. He watched her with anintensity that unnerved her, dark swirls in his whiskey eyes. If he thought she would give him the satisfaction of seeing her strip down to her underwear… She raised her chin at him, daring him to stop her, and slipped the dress on over her clothes.

Her triumph was short-lived. The dress would’ve been a tight fit over her thirty-six double Ds. With the added material of her work shirt, it was an impossibility.

“Shit.”

She glanced up at him. Amusement warred with heat in his gaze.

Fuck.

She wrangled the dress back over her head, scowled in his direction, and turned her back to him. She undid the buttons on her shirt, her neck and back tingling with awareness of him watching her, his gaze burning hotter than Superman’s X-ray vision. Bek gritted her teeth. She just bet he was enjoying this. Best to get on with it and be done quick, rip off the proverbial sticking plaster.

Bek whipped off her shirt, goosebumps rising on her arms with the brush of cool air. He rumbled low in his chest, making her quiver and her nipples pebble. She snatched up the dress and drew it over her head, shoving her arms into the sleeves and quickly pulling it down to cover her naked flesh. Her jeans would stay right where they were, thank you very much. An extra layer against the cold of nighttime in the forest. An extra barrier againsthim.

She laced up the sides, drawing in the waist, and turned around. There it was again. That rumble. Primal. More animal than human. Her nerve endings danced along her skin and the hairs on the nape of her neck stood on end.

With a strangled growl, he tore his gaze off her, grabbed a sack and thrust it at her. “Put your tunic, your fluffy boots and my surcoat in this.”

Eager to break the spell, Bek snatched the sack from him and stuffed her bunny slippers and her shirt inside. She picked up his surcoat, hesitating as she caught sight of the emblem on the front. In their trek through the darkened forest, and her hasty flight from him as he bathed, she hadn’t noticed it before. In orange, stark against the dark brown of the leather, was a stylized bird emblazoned on the front left panel.

She ran her fingers over the design. “Is it a—”

“Phoenix? Yes.”

The symbol of resurrection. A bird rising from the ashes. She turned to look at him. His fiery gaze focused on her, like a predator eyeing up his prey. He fisted his hands at his sides and a muscle ticked in his jaw. Something dark danced in the depths of his eyes and the air grew thicker and harder to breathe. A musky scent, stronger than the smoke from the fire and the stew cooking over it, swirled around them. Bek wasn’t sure if she wanted to run from him or to him.

“I have a—”

His lips pursed in a thin line, he nodded. “I saw. On your shoulder. You have marked yourself with a phoenix.”

An emotion flickered across his face. What exactly, she couldn’t say.

A shiver raced up Bek’s spine. Was it a sign? She didn’t believe in signs, but… What were the chances? She stuffed his coat into the sack. “The phoenix on your coat? It’s your family crest?”

He took a few deep breaths, then shook himself like a dog might shake off water. His hands unfurled, his shoulders relaxed and the air cleared, save for the smoke and the smell of cooking food. The dark shadows in his eyes were also gone. Had they even been there at all?

“Yes,” he said, his voice softer, the guttural harshness gone.

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