Page 35 of Tail, Dark and Handsome: Celestial Mates
Damn it. Not alluring. Appalling.
He was such a liar.
The female—Marigold—was not unpleasant, but her face confounded him. It was so flat with her too-small nose. Her eyes were attractive enough, if a touch too round. They gave her a look of permanent surprise. When she spoke, she flapped her hands about as if communicating through a nonverbal language. It made it difficult to gauge the sincerity of her words.
Amused? Flap, flap, flap.
Angered? Flap, point, jab. The hand motions were unnecessary and, frankly, distracting.
Incorrect, he realized, and reassessed his observations.
Her fear had been sincere. There was no artifice in the way she clung to the railing like she might pitch over the side of the boat and drown. Rebel had been quite the performer. He never knew if her histrionics were genuine or a ploy for attention, and Rebel loved nothing more than attention. Winter did not have to question the sincerity of Rebel’s tears because he knew they were always false.
Marigold…the way she clung to him. He felt the truth in the way her voice hitched and her breathing grew erratic.
Something rumbled in his chest. Confused, Winter rubbed a hand on his sternum, wondering if the noise was hunger or…
No.
Attraction? Such a bizarre sensation, feeling attraction for the first time in years. He was not sure what to do with it. He wanted…
The breeze lifted the brim of the hat, threatening to sweep it away, and the sun warmed his skin. The ship approached the harbor, and Winter focused his attention on safely docking the vessel. He’d examine his thoughts later and determine what the female did to make him want to protect her and soothe her.
Must be a human trick. Those round eyes appealed to a tender spot inside him, and he did not like it. At all.
“What’s the word, Captain?” Her question roused his wandering thoughts. She joined him at the helm, her hands visibly trembling as she clutched the towel around her shoulders.
“You should remain below deck,” he said.
“No, I don’t want to hide.” A soft sigh escaped her. “I’m terrified, but I’m going to do this.” She nodded. “I can do this.”
“You may hold my tail if you like,” he said, surprised at his offer. “Frightened kits hold their parents’ tails. It is calming,” he explained. Adults touching another adult’s tail meant something else entirely. Then, because perhaps she did not understand that his intention was strictly chaste, “I am being a good host.”
The boat leaned to one side. She gasped and pressed herself to his side. “I’m fine. I’m going to be fine. I’m going to do this,” she chanted.
Unconsciously, his tail brushed the back of her calf. He managed enough self-control to stop his tail from curling possessively around her. She stood at exactly the correct height and size for it to fit her waist.
He studied her, the way her head peeked up and she fixed on the approaching harbor. Zero talked her through steps the onboard navigation took to dock safely and she nodded along, asking the occasional question. She was frightened. He could hear her voice tremble her and her breath flutter, but she did not hide her face again. She met her fear head-on.
“I cannot tell if you are stubborn or brave,” he said, at length.
A laugh tore out of her, and the pure delight in it sparked something frozen inside him.
He did not like it.
At. All.
* * *
The exhausted kitfell asleep before they arrived back at the farmhouse. Winter pressed his thumb to the payment pad on the transport and carried Zero into the house.
“I’m awake.” Zero floundered, struggling to escape Winter’s arms and stand on his own feet.
“Shower off the sand, then bed.”
“I know. I’m not a little kit,” he said, tail sulky.
“You’ll always be my little kit.” Winter kissed the top of Zero’s head. Then, moved by some strange cheerfulness, he gently nibbled on Zero’s kitten-soft ear, an affectionate gesture he had not done since Zero’s age could be counted on one hand.
