Page 6 of Unbearable Attraction
Books surrounded her in towering stacks that threatened to topple at any moment. Old leather-bound volumes, modern paperbacks, notebooks filled with her careful handwriting—all arranged in what might charitably be called organized chaos across every available surface. Candles flickered from holders scattered throughout the room, their warm light catching the blue-black gleam of her hair as she bent over an ancient text that looked older than Hollow Oak itself.
She'd changed from her tour guide clothes into something more comfortable, a soft gray sweater that made her striking blue eyes look like storm clouds and dark jeans that hugged curves he absolutely should not be noticing. Her bare feet were tucked under her on the oversized armchair, and she held a steaming mug in one hand while the other traced lines of text with obvious concentration.
The domestic scene hit him with unexpected force. He'd lived alone for so long that he'd forgotten what it looked like when someone made a space truly their own. His workshop was functional, his apartment above it even more spartan, but this… this was a home. Personal and warm and lived-in, with throw pillows that had clearly been chosen for comfort rather than decoration and bookshelves that groaned under the weight of actual reading material.
His bear rumbled approval at the sight of her obvious determination. She hadn't been scared off by the morning's supernatural encounter; instead, she'd thrown herself into understanding what had happened with the kind of methodical focus that spoke to a sharp mind and unshakeable courage. The animal side of his nature respected that kind of strength, even as his human side worried about what she might be stirring up.
Because she was definitely stirring something up. Even from outside, he could feel the subtle shift in magical energy that surrounded the cottage. Not dangerous—not yet—but present in a way that suggested her research was touching on forces that preferred to remain undisturbed.
Leenah reached for another book, her movements quick and precise despite what had clearly been hours of focused work. She'd been at this since leaving the cemetery, judging by the empty coffee mugs sitting beside several others on the side table. Stubborn woman, pushing herself past exhaustion in pursuit of answers that might be better left alone.
The thought of her facing whatever supernatural forces she was investigating alone, late at night, with nothing but books and determination for protection made his bear want to patrol endlessly. It wanted to march up to her front door and demand she let him help. Or at least let him stand guard while she worked, just in case those ancient spirits decided to pay another visit.
"Absolutely not," he muttered under his breath, knowing exactly how well that suggestion would be received.
She shifted in her chair, pushing a strand of dark hair behind her ear as she frowned at whatever text had captured her attention. The gesture was unconscious, natural, and it revealed the elegant line of her neck in the candlelight. Something primal stirred in his chest—not just his bear's protective instincts, but something more complicated. More personal.
When had he started noticing things like the way her lips moved slightly as she read? Or how her fingers traced patterns in the air when she was thinking through a particularly complex problem? These weren't the observations of a town guardian keeping watch over a resident's safety. These were the thoughts of a man becoming far too interested in a woman who'd made it crystal clear she valued her independence above all else.
A flash of movement caught his attention, and Minerva materialized on the windowsill as if she'd been summoned by his thoughts. The sleek black cat settled herself with the kind of deliberate precision that suggested she'd been watching him watch her human for several minutes. Her mismatched eyes—one blue, one green—fixed on his face with an intelligence that made him distinctly uncomfortable.
Animals had always liked him, probably something to do with his shifter nature. But Minerva's stare felt less like animal curiosity and more like evaluation. As if she was taking his measure and finding him... adequate, perhaps. Or at least not an immediate threat to her beloved human.
The cat tilted her head, studying him with attention that suggested she understood exactly why he was standing in Leenah's garden instead of continuing his patrol. Her tail twitched once, and then she turned to look back at Leenah with what could only be described as a considering expression.
Luka felt heat creep up his neck as he realized he'd been caught. Not by Leenah, who remained absorbed in her research, completely unaware of his presence, but by her too-intelligent familiar who seemed to see right through his flimsy excuses about town security.
The smart thing to do would be to continue his patrol and pretend this detour had never happened. The responsible thing would be to respect Leenah's obvious desire for privacy and leave her to her work. The safe thing would be to ignore the wayhis bear practically purred with contentment at the sight of her settled and focused in her own space.
Instead, he found himself memorizing details. The way she tucked one foot under her when she was deep in thought. The small collection of protective crystals arranged on the windowsill beside Minerva. The fact that she'd lit candles instead of turning on electric lights, creating an atmosphere that felt more like ritual than simple reading.
She was beautiful, he'd have to be blind not to notice that. But more than beautiful, she was... complete. Self-contained in a way that spoke of someone who'd learned to find strength in solitude. She didn't need rescuing or protecting or any of the things his alpha instincts wanted to provide. She needed space to be exactly who she was, and that realization was humbling but also made his bear nervous.
Because what if who she was didn't include space for someone like him?
Minerva's soft meow broke through his spiraling thoughts. The cat was looking at him again, her expression almost sympathetic. As if she understood the particular torture of wanting something you couldn't have and being too stubborn to walk away from it.
"Yeah, I know," he murmured quietly enough that his voice wouldn't carry to the cottage. "I'm an idiot."
The cat's tail twitched again, which he chose to interpret as agreement rather than judgment.
Leenah stretched, rolling her shoulders to work out the kinks from hours of hunching over books. The movement was completely innocent, but it drew his attention to the graceful curve of her spine and the way the soft sweater clung to her frame. His bear rumbled approval, and Luka had to clench his hands into fists to resist the urge to tap on the window and offer to work those knots out with his fingers.
This was getting ridiculous. He was standing in her garden like some kind of stalker, cataloging her every movement and letting his imagination run wild with scenarios that would probably earn him a restraining order if she knew what he was thinking. Time to leave before he did something even more monumentally stupid.
But as he turned to go, Minerva stood and padded along the windowsill to the corner closest to where he stood. She settled herself there deliberately, her mismatched eyes holding his gaze with unmistakable intent.
The message was clear: someone needed to watch over Leenah while she lost herself in research that touched on dangerous supernatural forces. And if Luka wasn't going to do it properly then at least he could do it from a respectful distance.
Guard duty, then. He could justify that to himself and his conscience. Just keeping watch to make sure nothing supernatural decided to take advantage of her focused distraction. It had nothing to do with the way candlelight caught in her dark hair or the unconscious grace of her movements as she worked.
Nothing at all.
Luka settled himself against the trunk of the larger oak tree, positioning himself where he could see both the cottage and anyone approaching from the main path. His bear approved of the vantage point, finally content now that they were properly positioned to protect what was rapidly becoming the most important thing in their world.
Even if he wasn't entirely sure what he was going to do about it.
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