Page 54 of Feral

But the feeling stayed with me until the elevator doors closed. And even then, my adrenaline was spiked enough that I had to purposefully calm my breathing. I was safe…right?

One the elevator reached my floor, I ran to the door of our room and slammed it shut behind me when I got in. My heart was hammering against my ribs, and my breath was coming in short gasps. There was no reason to be so frightened, no one was going to barge in and—

The bathroom door opened hard enough to collide with the wall and I jumped.

“What’s wrong?”

I turned around to answer Fraser and stopped cold.

He had his glamour up, standing in the bathroom doorway soaking wet, with a towel carelessly thrown around his waist. It was open enough to show a mouthwatering glimpse of a muscular thigh covered in a liberal dusting of dark hair. It was rude to stare, even more so to do it in such a lustful way, but I could not stop myself from taking him in.

That broad chest was accented with more thick dark hair that trailed in a line down to his navel. Droplets of water fell slowly down his six pack abs, and I was insanely jealous of the rivulets. His entire body was like one enormous, well sculpted masterpiece, but it was missing one thing that would’ve made it perfect.

Soft, midnight black fur and a temptingly long tail…

“Daphne,” he began to advance on me.

“I’m fine!” the words flew out of my mouth.

He stopped, eyes narrowing.

“Are ya sure? Ya slammed the door and ya smell like yer afraid.”

“I smell…? Well, that’s just embarrassing.”

His full lips quirked up into a crooked smile.

“It’s just a normal thing for me to notice. Nothin’ to get upset about,” he reached out and slipped a strand of my hair behind my ear. His fingers lingered on my jaw before dropping. “Are ya sure yer alright?”

“Yes,” I breathed, “just…just left over adrenaline I think.”

He nodded.

“Well, I, uh, should get dressed.”

I gave him a shaky smile and went to dump my purchases on the bed. The room wasn’t large but it was spacious enough for one night. The bed was firm with a wonderfully soft blanket on top. A wide window was to the right of the bed, the curtains drawn, and a dresser was on the wall across from the foot of the bed. There were night stands with simple lamps on either side of the bed and I turned one on. I wasn’t sure why most mid-priced hotel rooms all had the same benign wall color and forgettable water color paintings but this one was no exception. It was oddly reassuring.

“I need to look at your wound so don’t put a shirt on,” I said to the closed bathroom door.

“I’m fine.”

“Do not argue with me, Fraser MacDonald! I’m scrappier than I look!”

The door opened and he chuckled.

“Of that, I have no doubt.”

He had indeed left his shirt off but he still had his glamour up, which included hiding the wound in his side. And while I very much liked the sight of him in jeans and nothing else, it wouldn’t do.

“I need to see what it really looks like so drop the glamour.”

He hesitated.

“I’ve seen what you look like,” I softened. “And I’m not afraid of you.”

His jaw tightened and he looked away.

Something had happened in his past to make him so hesitant, I was sure. But I highly doubted he’d tell me what it was, so I could only guess and try to sooth him all the same. I went to him and took his huge hand in mine.

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