Page 47 of Brody
I moved closer, deliberately invading her space until her back pressed against the wall.I placed one hand beside her head, caging her with my body without actually touching her.
“Let them try,” I growled, my voice dropping to a dangerous rumble.“They won’t get within a hundred yards of you.”
Her breath hitched, her pupils dilating until only a thin ring of brown remained.I could hear her heartbeat accelerate, smell the sweet musk of desire that perfumed the air between us.
“That’s very… confident,” she managed, though her voice had gone husky.
“When it comes to protecting what’s mine?”I let my gaze drop deliberately to her mouth.“I don’t take chances.”
The biometric lock recognized my palm, and I pushed open the heavy oak door.Warm air rushed out to meet us, carrying scents of forest, cedar, and vanilla, and the faint hint of yesterday’s coffee.Home.
But everything looked different with her beside me.
“Jesus,” she breathed, stepping inside.“This is incredible.”
The open-plan great room had living and dining areas, a large stone fireplace, cathedral ceilings, herringbone-patterned floors, and floor-to-ceiling glass walls framing the waterfall that captured her attention, moonlight streaming through to paint everything silver.
“It’s very cabin-y, with lots of wood,” she said.
“Best view in Alaska,” I said, watching her instead of the scenery.“Though I’m starting to think the real view just walked through my door.”
She shot me a look that could have melted steel.“Smooth, Thornbern.Do lines like that usually work?”
“I wouldn’t know.”I set her luggage down, aware of how her scent was already beginning to permeate my space.“I’ve never brought a woman to my home.”
Her eyes widened a fraction, that sharp, analytical gaze sweeping the room before returning to my face.The slight tilt of her head, the momentary softening around her mouth, subtle tells I wouldn’t have caught if I hadn’t been watching her every breath.
“What about your books?”she asked, moving toward the wall of shelves that dominated the far wall.“Romance novels hidden behind the tactical manuals?”
“Military strategy and classic literature, mostly.Though I may have a few guilty pleasures tucked away.”
“Like what?”She traced the spines with one finger, and I couldn’t take my eyes off her fingers, mesmerized by her gentle touch.
“Horror thrillers.Postapocalyptic fiction.The occasional paranormal romance.”
Her eyebrows shot up.“Paranormal romance?”
Heat crept up my neck.“Research.Understanding the competition.”
“Competition?”She turned to face me fully, amusement dancing in her dark eyes.“Are you planning to write your own supernatural love story?”
I’m living one,I thought but said, “Maybe.Brooding alpha wolf meets beautiful cheetah-shifter.Lots of sexual tension, minimal communication skills.”
“Sounds terrible,” she said, but she was fighting a smile.“Who would read that?”
My wolf preened at the hint of amusement in her voice.Years apart, and I could still make her smile.The beast inside me howled with satisfaction.
“You’d be surprised.”I moved closer, drawn by the spark in her eyes that had nothing to do with her injury.“Some people like the fantasy of finding their perfect match.”
“Fantasybeing the operative word.”Her scent shifted, jasmine and vanilla turning sharp with sudden anxiety.I watched her walls slam back into place, armor clicking into position piece by piece.“Perfect matches don’t exist in the real world.”
“Don’t they?”I asked quietly, letting her see the truth I couldn’t hide anymore.“Because I’m looking at mine right now.”
A quarter century of suppressed longing crystallized into a single, devastating moment of honesty.
A catch in her breath.And for a heartbeat, I thought she might close the distance between us.
Instead, she stepped back, wrapping her arms around herself in a gesture I was beginning to recognize.
