by Sabrina York
“That too.” He must be the reason she wasn’t inside the guts of a beast.
“My name is Gunnar,” he said. The clipped accent suggested Icelandic heritage.
Her gaze traveled up, taking in the mountain before her. Being almost six foot tall, she’d rarely met a man that made her feel petite. This one did—and good God, he was gorgeous. “Shiya,” she mumbled, unable to take her eyes off him.
His gray thermal shirt stretched over a muscular chest, defined pecs, defined shoulders, defined everything. Her gaze traveled to hands big enough to circle her waist—working hands—a warrior’s hands.
“A beautiful name.” He sat forward and rested his elbows on his knees, studying her back. His eyes were a pale blue—mimicking the glacial ice, but not holding the chill. Warmth crept up the back of her neck at the intensity of his gaze.
“I’m named after my mother. She’s dead,” she stuttered.
His brow shot up again. Okay—maybe that had been a little too much detail. “Tradition,” she stuttered, knowing outsiders just didn’t understand and it wasn’t worth trying to explain.
He nodded as though it were perfectly normal to tell a stranger your mother was dead, and something in that look told her he would’ve understood if she’d tried to explain. “I found you by the glacier—unconscious.”
Shiya furrowed her brow. “No bear?”
“Didn’t see one.”
She sucked her lower lip between her teeth. The prints had been there. She’d dipped her fingers into the blood, felt the heat. Lifting her hand, she turned it and examined her fingertips. Nothing to prove it had been anything more than a hallucination. “There were tracks—blood.”
“Didn’t see those either.”
She lifted her gaze back to his and furrowed her brow.
His expression said he hadn’t, but the tone of his voice said otherwise. “I think you must have slipped and hit your head.”
“You’re sure?” She ran a hand through her hair looking for a lump on her scalp, or at least a tender spot that told her maybe she had a concussion. Nothing. As soon as the sun came up, she planned to go back to look—depending on how far away it was. The need to prove her sanity seemed at the forefront. “Where am I?”
“You’re at Castle Lodge, the closest place from my camp where I could bring you for medical treatment.”
“Did you say your camp?” She was almost at the glacier when she’d encountered the bear. There were a multitude of locations that would make a better camping spot. The guy was obviously a tourist with little knowledge about what kind of danger was out there. Knowing the land better than most, Shiya knew it was her responsibility to educate him and educate him she would—he’d saved her life. “Why would you want to camp by the glacier? The area is full of bears, has crevasses miles deep, and no shelter from the elements.”
“I did say camp, and there are plenty of reasons a person would want to camp there. I’m a biologist with an organization studying the local bears in the area. There’s been a sharp drop in the population. The glacier gives me the best vantage point to observe.” He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest.
Shiya’s heart sped up. He knew her world and worked to protect it. Everything about Gunnar called to her baser desires. Too bad she didn’t have time to explore the spark between them.
“And I’m also your date for the weekend.”
Her eyes widened and her stomach did a crazy flip. Eve hadn’t been kidding when she’d emailed she’d found the perfect man for her. Shiya had a packet with his full profile, but had never bothered to open it, since she hadn’t planned on following through with the date.
Maybe she should have. Gunnar’s sheer size made her feel safe and could he be any more perfect? Hero. Heartthrob. Gentleman? Shiya shifted on the bed and realized she’d been peeled down to her T-shirt and panties. “Who…?”
“A doctor. She works exclusively for the resort.”
Shiya nodded and frowned. He had the uncanny ability to answer her questions before she asked them. How could any man be that tuned into a woman he’d just met? Too perfect—or perhaps he’d been doing his homework, and something about that screamed stalker, and thank you very much, she already had one too many of those.
“Do I know you?”
“Not intimately.” He leaned in. “Not yet.”
He said it with such confidence, not as though he were bragging, but stating a fact. Perhaps he was right in his assumption. Every second that passed, she wanted him all the more. It threw her off balance. And rarely did she feel clumsy, but this man had her emotionally stumbling all over herself.
“Oh.” This is the part where she should tell him to get the fuck out of her room for making presumptions, but she couldn’t. A part of her wished it hadn’t been the doctor who’d stripped her. It wasn’t a novelty for strangers to see her naked, but with him, it felt like it would be the first time someone truly saw her—all of her.
Behind the scenes of a fashion show, the models never had dressing rooms. She often stripped where she stood, sometimes still dressing as she headed for the catwalk. She was used to strangers seeing her naked. It didn’t even bother her anymore.
Until now.
Gunnar had her shivering from the moment she’d opened her eyes. His Arctic blue eyes seemed to undress her soul and see between the layers she kept hidden from the public. The true Shiya. So intimate. So….
Bad.
He slid his chair closer, until she could smell the peppermint on his breath. “Do you wish I had removed your clothes?”
Yes. “I…” That scent—it seemed.... She pressed her fingers to her forehead and closed her eyes. The bear had eaten his toothpaste. Had been in his camp. So whose blood…? She scanned his body. Not so much as a Band-Aid. He should have some visible damage if he came face to face with the beast.
“There was no bear in my camp.”
She screwed her eyes up. “Excuse me. Did you just answer a question I didn’t ask?”
“It was the look on your face,” he said. I’m really good at reading people.
“I guess you are.” Shiya froze as she realized he hadn’t said the last bit, at least he hadn’t out loud, or did he? Maybe she had cracked her skull. She seemed to be imagining telepathy.
Are you imagining it? His mouth twitched and light danced in his eyes, as though he was amused.
Yes. No. Are you talking to me in my head? Shiya stared at him, waiting for him to do it again. Ridiculous. Of course he isn’t talking to you in your head. He said it out loud. Nothing else would explain it. She rubbed her temples again, looking for the elusive injury that seemed to have knocked her silly.
“Does everything have to be explained?”
Shiya’s eyes widened. Yupik? Had the entire conversation been in her native tongue?
His mouth curled into a full blown, very smug smile.
“You speak my language.”
“I’m fluent in several. Inuit is just one of them.” He switched to Russian or something that sounded Slavic, and then Chinese, and finally what sounded a lot like an African dialect. She hadn’t a clue what he said, but he’d certainly made his point. “Take your pick. It’s why I got the assignment, but you’d know this if you’d read my profile.”
Busted. Shiya frowned. How could she explain?
“I don’t care about why you didn’t, but….” He reached out and touched her face, leaning in until his lips were only a breath away. “You didn’t answer my question.” His fingers brushed her skin with a tenderness that should be impossible for a man of his stature.
The world around her whirled. “What question was that?”
“Do you wish I’d removed your clothes?” He watched her, waiting for her answer with intensity in his eyes that made her squirm.
Shiya’s stomach flipped and she pulled her face away from his hand, turning her chin until she looked at a painting of the Alaskan coast. He seemed way too perceptive to lie to, and who wouldn’t want him
to take their clothes off? She could think of a couple dozen women and men who’d die to have his hands on them. She flushed from head to toe. “Yes,” she said and turned back to him.
“I thought so. I could smell your arousal the moment you first looked at me.”
Her eyes widened in horror. How?
He slid his hand into her hair and twisted it around his fist, tugging her closer. Not gentle, not painful, but enough to let her know who was in control. “Then you won’t mind if I kiss you,” he said. Not can I—but I will—and he did.
Shiya’s toes curled the moment their lips touched. Lightening rocketed through her body, exploding into a carnal storm inside her. She surrendered her mouth to him.
“You taste incredible.” With his free hand he yanked the duvet off the bed and shoved it to the floor. “I want more.” Again not a question.
He crawled onto the mattress. It dipped under his weight as he straddled her thighs. Gunner’s lips traveled down her neck and his hands made short work of her panties, ripping the thin silk away.
“Please.” Shiya bucked up, desperately needing him to touch her. Never had she done this, and she must have lost her mind—or left it on the glacier. She had no inclination to stop him—though she knew she should. Honorable women didn’t behave this way. A whimper escaped her as he tore her thin T-shirt down the middle, exposing pebbled nipples. His hands moved up to cup her breasts, driving more jolts of energy straight to her center. His lips grazed the flesh on the top one of her breasts, while the pad of a thumb drew torturous circles around the nipple of the other.
“So beautiful.” When he drew the tight bud into his mouth, she groaned and arched against him. Anything he wanted was his. She couldn’t—wouldn’t say no. She’d surrendered with one touch, unable to resist the compulsion. “Please,” she gasped again, even more desperate. She ground her hips into him like a cat in heat, wanting to fuck so badly she shook.
He lifted his eyes and locked gazes. A crooked smile crept onto his face. “Please what?”
“Touch me—down there.”
“Not yet.” His lips went back to her breast; his tongue swirled around her nipple.
Shiya slipped a hand to his groin.
“You will not move unless I tell you to.” Gunnar grabbed both her wrists and pressed them into the mattress over her head. “Not yet,” he said a little more forcefully. Her chest rose and fell against his. God, she wanted him. The sheets grew soaked under her and her heart rate spiked. She opened her mouth.
“Don’t.” He let go of her wrists and cupped her face. “Let me savor you.” He skimmed his fingers down her throat. “Let me show you what you’ve missed.”
She left her hands over her head, even though the need to sink her nails into his flesh was almost more than she could bear. “What have I missed?”
“Did you think fate had nothing to do with this? Let me show you why we were matched. I think deep down inside you know what is going on.”
Combustion. Why she didn’t know, but one thing was clear—she needed him with every cell in her body. “Yes,” she whispered. “I feel it.” She lifted her hips from the bed and ground against his erection, causing him to groan. “I feel it very well.”
“Willful.” He smiled down at her.
“You have no idea.”
No, he didn’t but intended to find out. A primitive fuse inside him began to burn as she started the shift. The cells in her body were mutating, becoming pliable—doppelganger. He could smell it, taste it—hear the thoughts in her head. Feel the hunger that drove the males of his species into a frenzy when exposed to it. Every little whimper. Every little breath. This was not supposed to happen in the middle of nowhere with a half-breed. He’d waited his entire life to feel this.
The timing couldn’t be shittier.
Gunner had already lied to her, betrayed her trust, and he’d continue to lie until he knew how many of the half-breeds were out there. Before this was over, the one woman in the galaxy meant for him would hate him and there wasn’t anything he could do about it. But it wouldn’t stop him from claiming her. He knew the moment he caught her scent on the glacier, he couldn’t let her go. Shiya belonged to him and the sooner he made it clear, the better.
He slid down her body, tasting every inch of flesh. He nipped her belly and she bucked again, making him nearly spill cum inside his jeans. He grabbed her hips and slammed them to the mattress. “No.” He tipped his head and bit her thigh, not hard enough to break the skin, but firm enough to warn her to be still. Control would be lost if she continued. “I said not to move.”
Shiya quivered under him and moaned as she creamed again. Shit, the woman liked it. It shouldn’t surprise him, even if she wasn’t full-blooded. Doppelganger women liked aggressive foreplay. Pressure built in his balls and his body coiled like a steel spring. Not yet. He’d done enough to piss her off; the last thing he needed to do was add to it by hurting her.
Her first time during the shift would be explosive. He didn’t want to damage her, but she made it difficult to be gentle, especially since he could smell just how hot the rough play made her. He used his forehead to nudge her thighs apart, unable to touch her with his hands and not lose the precious splinter of control he’d maintained.
When his tongue found her clit, she orgasmed. He licked down the pink slit and thrust his tongue inside her, savoring her flavor, as he’d told her he would. Now that he had a taste of her, she could never hide from him. They were linked. He could have kissed her to the same effect, but this method was much more pleasurable for both of them. The chemicals he secreted from glands in his mouth were absorbed by her flesh, not only marking her, but mutating her awakening cells, branding her with his DNA, a doppelganger aphrodisiac—one she could never resist.
Whenever she saw him, her first reaction would always be lust. As the Terran aliens always said in their movies, “resistance was futile.”
The corner of his mouth curled as his unique hormone surged through her body, infecting her with his essence. He slipped a finger inside her and she cried out, but didn’t move, taking his warning seriously and a good thing she did. A virgin? Dear gods. He didn’t think he could take much more, but this needed to be finished in a manner that pleased her.
“Gunnar,” she whimpered unknowingly in his language, thrashing her head from side to side, deep into the cellular bonding, unaware of the changes in her body that would brand her forever as his. He speared his tongue inside again, giving her another dose of the hormone, winding her tighter. Her pussy clamped onto him and her juices ran into his mouth as she orgasmed again.
The link snapped into place, her future locked. He felt it the moment it happened. Now, she was ready. He pulled away and unfastened his pants. She stared at him through sex-hazed eyes. His personal addict and addiction from this point forward. Nothing would keep him from her.
Gunnar pulled a condom from his pocket and slipped it on. He slid up her body and placed his cock at her saturated entrance. “The first time always hurts and I regret that it will. I promise to make this up to you.”
“I don’t care. Please....” She tensed under him, but didn’t do anything to stop what was coming. He thrust inside, breaking her virgin’s barrier and stopped when he was buried inside her, waiting for her to adjust to his size and for the pain to subside. She didn’t cry out. No tears. Nothing.
She reached up and touched his face. Her eyes sparkled. “More.”
Gunnar began to move slowly, sliding in and out. Brave, brave woman. His woman. Perfect. Beautiful. His. He’d make sure she didn’t regret the joining if it killed him.
Chapter Three
“I’ll start us a shower,” he said and kissed the tip of her nose before he slid off and went to the bathroom. After what seemed like her millionth orgasm, he’d finally seemed to tire. She watched his ass as he walked, muscular, strong, the finest she’d ever seen. Shiya fought the urge to follow him, grabbing on to the headboard as though it could possibly sto
p her traitorous body if it took a mind to go after him. Even after the lengthy lovemaking, she wanted more.
The door shut with a soft click and reality slammed home. The trance she’d seemed to have been in, dissolved. Holy shit. Shiya bolted up into a sitting position in the rumpled bed and let go of the rail. What the hell was I thinking? She’d not hesitated to give her cherry to him, even though they’d just met. With Lucas on his way, the last thing she should be doing was lying on her back while the enemy closed in.
What had come over her?
She snorted. Well, what had come over her was obvious, certainly more than one woman lost her wits to him, but falling in lust didn’t make up for her serious lack of judgment. Idiot.
She gathered the sheet around her body and rose from the bed. Blood and juices trickled down her thigh. Her heart started to pound. Fuck. She wiped it away with the sheet and glanced around for her clothing, finding it folded in a dresser, next to the rest of her belongings—and his. Oh, hell. He’d moved her into his room.
“Are you hungry?” he called from the other side of the door.
“Not really.” She grabbed her jeans and hopped into them, not bothering with digging in the dresser for her underwear. She wiggled them up her hips, snagged a camisole and pulled it on. Shiya followed it up with a bulky sweater, meant to swallow her figure and hide her curves. She glanced around, frantic to run before he came out. Her boots were nowhere to be seen.
Shiya eyed the blood stained sheet on the floor, proof she hadn’t imagined the encounter, and opted for barefoot, too panicked to stay. As the door to the bathroom opened, she slipped out of the room without looking back, not sure where she intended to go without her shoes. All she knew was she couldn’t face the man.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. She trotted down the hall and began her descent of a grand staircase with twisted branch rails. A massive Tiffany chandelier with woodland scenes lit the space. Beautiful and any other time, she’d stop to study it, but she was on a mission and the faster she found the office, the sooner she could get her team harnessed and leave. From there she could catch a flight back to New York, where she should have stayed. Tactical advantage indeed!
