Page 16 of Mated to the Mountain Bear
Dawn is breaking over the hills, cold and clear, and I’m already outside, walking the perimeter like I do every morning. Except this morning, I can’t simply enjoy the peace and quiet. And I can’t shift to let my animal roam free like he’s itching to do.
Normally, I’m checking for tracks, anything that doesn’t belong on my land that’s dumb enough to ignore the markings my bear leaves on the trees all over the mountain. It’s routine, and usually uneventful, but with Zara here, it feels more important.
She has a stalker out there somewhere, and damned if I’m going to let him get to her on my watch. Having the tiny human tucked up in my bed is awakening every protective instinct my inner bear has.
Raising my hands to my nose, I breathe in her scent, ashamed to admit to myself that the reason I couldn’t bringmyself to wash my hands yet is because I can’t bear to rid my skin of her smell.
I do not need this. I’m perfectly happy. His insistence that I take a job with his company, meet up with my brothers and leave my cabin, is getting old. Bears are solitary animals, and mine in particular, dislikes crowds and noise.
And the Lennox’s, when we all get together, all dominant grizzlies that like to be in charge, things can get rowdy and noisy.
Today though, my bear is calm. He enjoys having Zara here; guarding the door and keeping her safe gives him a purpose. Maybe that was Beau’s plan all along. Put an attractive woman in my home to remind me that not all people are bad.
But using a vulnerable woman to tempt me into socialising again seems like a step too far. Even for Beau. Deep down, I know that’s not what he’s doing.
And he’d never have dumped someone as scared as Zara with me if it weren’t his last resort.
My temper flares again when I recall the scent of her tears as she tried to stay strong despite the ordeal she’d been through. Her hands. Her torn feet. When Beau finds this guy, I’d like to spend some time with him before he gets handed over to the authorities.
The fear tainting her scent… those big green eyes… For the first time, my bear isn’t opposed to sharing his den, his food, or having some company. And it’s pissing me off.
I make a wide circle around the cabin, checking the treeline, the access road, and the shed. Closing my eyes to listen to the sounds of the forest, my bear is reassured. Everything’s quiet. The mountains stand silent in the early light, mist clinging to the valleys below.
She’s safe.
When I loop back toward the cabin, I spot her through the kitchen window and pause to watch. She’s hovering near thecoffeemaker while checking her phone, an exercise in futility, she must realise by now. The weak sunlight catches her hair, turning it gold. My flannel swallows her slight frame, the cuffs turned up, over and over, still come to her wrists.
When she steps back, snagging an apple out of the fruit bowl, I see her legs, long and tanned, and bare all the way up to where they disappear under my shirt.
And damn if it doesn’t look good on her.
My bear lets me feel his approval, loving the idea of her being covered in my scent while she leaves hers all over my things.
It’s temporary,I remind him as I force myself to stop staring, pretending I don’t feel just as territorial seeing her dressed in my clothes.
She must hear my boots on the porch because she turns to smile at me before coming to the doorway to meet me as I take off my boots. Arms wrapped around herself against the morning chill, she looks uncertain standing there.
“Morning.” Her voice is soft, hesitant, and she shivers as the cool breeze wraps itself around her exposed legs.
Just like last night, when I saw her sitting in Beau’s truck, wearing his stupid leather jacket, her green eyes captivate me. She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Where normally I don’t speak out of choice, with Zara, it’s also because I’m tongue-tied.
Well, almost.
“Go back inside. It’s cold.”
Maybe it would be better if I were.
My tone comes out sharper than intended, and she blinks at the harsh delivery. But instead of retreating like most people would, she meets my gaze head-on.
“Is there Wi-Fi?”
I gesture at the vast wilderness surrounding us. There’s nothing but trees and mountains as far as the eye can see. “There’s no cell service. What makes you think I have Wi-Fi?”
Her shoulders drop. “No, I suppose not.” She glances at her useless phone again. “Are there any spots on the property I can walk to that might get a bar or two?”
I stare at her.
“No. That’s the whole point of being off-grid.”
