by Amelia Jade
He chuckled, his eyes dancing with delight, before abruptly sobering as they focused on her once more. “No, I was thinking more like dinner.”
A thrill coursed through Peyton, even as she abruptly came back to her senses, realizing that she was still firmly seated in his lap as they sat together on the roof, his arms around her. How long had she been there?
Extracting herself from his grasp, she stood up, considering his offer.
Chapter Four
Kiefer
He held his breath as her eyes rapidly flicked back and forth between his, evaluating him, coming to a conclusion.
Kiefer wasn’t sure what had possessed him to invite her to dinner, but he had. The question was asked and out there now, so he couldn’t exactly retract it, even if he’d wanted to. After all, who wouldn’t want to take someone like her to dinner?
She was gorgeous. It was the first fact he’d noticed after ensuring that she was safe. It had settled firmly into his mind as he’d sat still trying to get over his embarrassment of how badly he’d messed up, thinking that she was trying to jump. Now though, he couldn’t get the image of her out of her mind. Even as he rose to his feet, he could still picture her face in his mind.
Pale white skin, so untouched by the sun it was likely she made fun of herself for being translucent. A mane of midnight-black hair fell over her shoulders, a stark contrast to her skin in its darkness. Broad cheekbones swept up from her pert little nose, giving her a naturally happy look that made him just want to smile down at her.
Not that he had to look far, he realized as he reached his full height. She was tall. Not as tall as he was, but she had to be over six feet in height, there was no doubt in his mind. Maybe not by much, perhaps a finger, but his head barely had to tilt to look at her. Which put her at perfect height for him to kiss.
Kiefer panicked and reined himself in just as his bear tried to force him closer to her. The war of wills saw him remain perfectly still, his limbs moving stiffly to his sides.
No! Down! Enough!
He sent the commands to his bear over and over again, but the beast was brutally adamant about wanting to get close to…to… Kiefer swore at his bear. He didn’t even know her name yet, and it wanted to kiss her! That was rude and inappropriate. There was no way that it would be allowed to happen.
Not yet at least…
Kiefer sighed to himself and allowed for that possibility, hoping his bear might take it as a compromise. It subsided reluctantly, but not before making one last-ditch effort to cup her fragile chin and lift it to his so that he could taste her, feel her warm lips against his, run his hands up her sides…
With a mental growl he picked his bear up and threw it back into its cage, where it couldn’t cause him any more trouble. Then he spent a second doubling the strength of the prison he’d constructed inside his head to hold the feral entity when it wasn’t needed. There was a strong pull to this woman, and he didn’t want to make a wrong move or say the wrong thing with her. No, Kiefer wanted to do this right, though he had no idea what “this” was.
“So is this how you get all your women?” the woman said at last, her ruddy-brown eyes filled with humor as she teased him.
“No,” he mused aloud. “Usually they throw themselves off the roof to get to me.”
The woman stared at him, clearly trying to decide if he was serious or not.
Kiefer flashed her a grin and stuck out his hand. “Kiefer, Kiefer Hartmann. Bear shifter, Green Bearet, and professional haunted-house worker, at your service.”
Laughter burbled up from inside the woman and she took his hand after only a brief moment of hesitation, giving it a firm shake.
“Peyton Raine,” she replied.
“Peyton.” He let the name roll of his tongue. “Beautiful name. Strong yet flows gently at the same time.”
The woman—no, Peyton, he corrected—blushed, turning slightly away from him as she did. “Thank you.”
“I don’t think you should be thanking me for anything just yet,” he said. “I think I have a bit more making up to do first.”
She giggled. “Ah, so that’s why you want to go to dinner?”
“Mostly,” he said in his best cryptic voice.
Peyton arched an eyebrow at him. “Oh, pulling the mysterious card now are we?”
He just smiled.
“Not bad,” she said, as if evaluating him on his abilities. “I’ve seen better, but not bad.”
Now it was his time to laugh. “Okay, okay, consider me properly skewered.”
“You nearly knocked me off the roof, mister. I don’t think you’re going to be hearing the last of that for a while!”
“Perhaps you would consider properly impaling me over some food then?” he teased, bringing back to light the fact that she had yet to answer him.
A fact that they were both well aware of. Kiefer was having plenty of fun sparring with Peyton, but the fact of the matter was, he was famished after his fight earlier, and needed to recharge.
“You’re not going to give up until I say yes, are you?” she asked, though there was no belligerence in her tone.
“If you truly have no desire to come dine with me, then I will respect that,” he told her seriously.
“I see.” Peyton thought for a moment. “Being the hour it is, however, I have long since had dinner. So, that presents a bit of a problem.”
Kiefer just waved a hand. “Not at all.”
“No? How am I supposed to come have dinner with you, if I am not to eat?” she asked, her voice light and full of humor.
“Sit there and watch me?” he suggested, earning him a laughing glare.
“I’m not sure I am in the mood for that.”
“Okay, so we go have a drink instead then.” He resolutely ignored his grumbling stomach as it protested his suggestion.
“My, you are persistent, aren’t you?” Peyton said, bringing a hand to her face to cover the smile he thought he saw blossom there.
“Well, as you saw,” he said, gesturing to the shattered remnants of the door, “I’m not one to let obstacles stand in my way.”
Peyton followed his gaze and this time made no attempt to hide the smile as she shook her head at the wreckage strewn across the roof. “I suppose I can’t argue that.”
“So it’s settled then!” he said, clapping his hands together happily.
“I suppose it is,” Peyton said, nodding.
Kiefer waved a hand in front of him and then leapt ahead to knock clear the chunks of door that impeded her progress as they crossed the roof to the stairs.
“Shouldn’t we do something about that?” she asked, looking over her shoulder as they descended.
“I’ll handle it in the morning,” he assured her. “It’ll be a good task for the next recruit that needs punishing. Painting the buildings gets tedious. I like to switch it up on them.”
Peyton glanced over at him, her reddish-brown eyes alive with curiosity. “You’re in charge of the recruits?” she asked.
“Ah, some of them,” he admitted. “I have a company that I am in charge of.”
“They trust you enough to put you in charge of others?”
Kiefer opened his mouth, then closed it. Then he opened it again.
Finally, when no words came out, he simply hung his head and shook it as Peyton laughed.
“I’m sorry,” she apologized. “But it really is just too easy.”
“I suppose I just have to endure this for a bit, don’t I?”
Peyton nodded. “Yep.”
As the emerged from the guest quarters, he noticed her steps become more hesitant.
Shit. Of course, she couldn’t see in the dark!
“Here,” he said gently, taking her arm and linking it through his. “Just walk with me.”
He felt the shiver run through Peyton, figuring it to be one of surprise as he touched her without warning, and suddenly Kiefer realized he should have asked her if this was okay. Instead, he’d just assume
d, and now she was stuck touching him.
You idiot! You need to start engaging your brain and think. You barely know this woman. Your introduction was you nearly killing her, and that only after she was broken free from a prison where other shifters were likely going to kill her. That isn’t exactly going to make her comfortable with you and your people.
“Ah, I mean,” he stammered. “You don’t have to,” he said, letting his arm droop so that she could easily disengage from him.
But fingers tightened around his forearm. “No, it’s okay,” she said, maintaining her grip on him. “I can’t see very well in this gloom.”
He began to nod, then caught himself. Peyton wouldn’t be able to see it, and she’d be focused on walking anyway. “It’s not a far walk. We’ll be there shortly,” he assured her as they crested a small rise and began to descend.
As they neared the officers’ quarters, several lights bathed the area in a soft glow of yellow-white light.
“Ah, so much nicer,” Peyton said as they entered the circles of light, passing by his residence on the left.
The Headquarters building passed by on their right, and then they were at the mess halls. Peyton turned toward the first one, but he tugged gently on her arm.
“We’re not eating in there,” he said.
“We aren’t?” Peyton sounded confused.
“No, we’re going to the officers’ hall. You’re dining with a gentleman tonight.” He paused for just the briefest of moments. “At least, that’s what they tell me. I’ve yet to meet any gentlemen in there.”
Peyton snickered in agreement. “I’m sure there must be at least one. I’m sure your superior officer, perhaps?”
He shrugged, tossing her a wink when he was sure she was looking and would see it. Even with the lights it was still rather dim.
That was, until they pushed through the wooden swinging door and into the officers’ mess. Then light hit them. The interior was much brighter, with neat ranks of overhead lights illuminating the place.
They were immediately greeted by a young recruit, looking properly cleaned and presentable. “Hello sir and madam,” he said perfunctorily. “For two tonight?”
Kiefer inclined his head in agreement, and without a further word the young shifter snatched up two menus and gestured for them to follow him. He wove across the hardwood floor to the rear, where he ascended two steps onto a raised tier that ran the length of the rear of the room.
Once there he gestured at an empty table and deposited the menus in front of each seat.
“Your server will be along shortly,” he said and then retreated to give them their privacy.
Kiefer immediately positioned himself behind a chair and pulled it away from the table. Peyton blushed as she understood his intentions, but she sat in front of it anyway, allowing him to slide it in as she sat down.
“Thank you,” she said quietly as he took a seat opposite her.
“Nothing to it,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand, as if he did it for everyone he ate or drank with.
“So, am I allowed to drink beer, or do I have to be ‘ladylike’ and have something like wine or,” she shuddered, “a spritzer.”
Kiefer laughed, not bothering to restrain himself. “You can drink whatever you want. I would much prefer to drink with the real you, and not a fancy show version, if I am allowed.”
Peyton’s eyes narrowed. “You are an interesting character, Kiefer Hartmann.”
“Not really,” he said. “I just prefer honesty and openness. Communication and lack of, ah,” he fumbled, trying to find a polite word.
“Bullshit?” Peyton supplied.
“A lack of bullshit,” he said, surrendering. “They make for a much better time. I despise the politics of relationships, whether friendly or romantic, or even business. They make people worse than they truly are, and if I could, I would do away with them all.”
“I see,” she said, leaning back in her chair, her eyes focused on him, analyzing, evaluating.
Kiefer felt like he was being broken down into his requisite parts and then reassembled as she got to know him better. It was an…interesting experience.
They placed their drink orders. To Kiefer’s surprise they actually stocked several brands of human beer. The stuff he drank was far too potent for a human. A shot glass worth would likely have knocked Peyton back on her rather deliciously shaped rear.
Stop it. She is not just a piece of meat. You don’t have to make everything about her long, thick legs or the tantalizing curve of her hips, or the—
He cut himself off mentally, returning to the present.
“So, how’s the recovery going?”
Peyton froze for a moment. It was a fleeting thing, lasting no more than a split second. If he hadn’t been paying close attention to her, he might have missed it entirely, she recovered that well.
“It’s going,” she said. “Slowly but surely, getting there.”
Kiefer thought about asking what was still wrong with her, but he decided not to. If Peyton wanted him to know, she would volunteer that information.
“Got plans to head home soon then?” he asked instead.
“I’m not entirely sure,” she said, without elaborating. “We’ll see how things proceed, and then go from there.”
He wanted to frown, but kept the expression from his face, instead sitting back to have some more of his beer. It would go down better with a hunk of meat, some potatoes, and maybe a few slices of fresh bread, but for the time being, he could be content.
A strange look came over Peyton’s face. “You were there,” she said at last.
“Pardon?” he asked, pausing to swallow his beer.
“The night of the raid. You were there, weren’t you? I recall seeing you.”
“Yes,” he admitted. “I was there.”
She looked away. “Thank you,” she said hoarsely. “For rescuing me. Us, I mean. Thank you for that.”
Now it was Kiefer’s turn to feel awkward, even as he tried to brush it off. “It was nothing Peyton, seriously.”
“It wasn’t ‘nothing’ to me,” she said. “Or to the others that were there. So, thank you.”
He decided it was time to be serious. “You’re welcome, but any of the other Green Bearets would have done the same thing. I just happened to have rank.”
She smiled at his mild attempt to lighten the mood without making a full joke of it. “Well, I appreciate it since you were the one who came along. It was nice to get out of there. I must confess that I did not particularly enjoy my stay there.”
“I can understand that,” he said, smiling back at her, trying to contain the flutter of his heart as her look sent it into overdrive. “How did they get you anyway? How’d you end up there?”
Kiefer’s jaw nearly hit the floor as walls slammed into place. Peyton’s visage turned to one of stone, removing all emotion from it. Even her eyes hardened, the trace amounts of humor and relaxation disappearing in a flash.
“Thank you for the beer,” she said stiffly, but politely, and then rose.
“Peyton, wait,” he said, rising, but she was already past him and heading toward the door.
Kiefer stood there, scratching the back of his neck as he tried to figure out what the hell had just happened.
What had he done?
He looked down at her half-full beer and tried to figure out how things had suddenly gone so wrong.
Chapter Five
Peyton
Her face burned with embarrassment as she pushed her way out of the officers’ hall and followed the pathway back toward her guest quarters.
They didn’t burn for Kiefer, but for herself. Peyton was ashamed of the way she’d just left him, but as soon as she’d left the table, it had been too late to turn back. She’d irrevocably insulted Kiefer, and it would take more than just sitting back down with him to fix that.
But it couldn’t be helped. Her reaction had caught her by surprise as well, and Peyton had bar
ely been aware of what she was doing until she was already moving. Nor was stopping and returning to eat a viable option either. Then she would have to explain to him why she’d done what she did, and that wasn’t something Peyton was prepared to do.
Or could do, for that matter.
The shame of that fell over her, and she tried to keep her shoulders straight as she walked. The weight of it all pressed down upon her until she was hunched over, walking slowly through the dark as she left the blessed light behind, using her feet to keep her on the pathway. The moon was coming out at last, and thankfully its light was enough to guide her through the camp.
The last thing Peyton wanted was to be stumbled upon by a wandering shifter and have to explain herself to him as well.
The scuffle of a booted foot on the gravel was her first indication that someone was following her. Without looking back she increased her pace, lengthening her strides. It was a tactic that had paid great dividends over her life. Peyton was taller than almost every guy she met, but many of them didn’t seem to realize what came with that.
Long strides was one of them, and even those taller than her often underestimated how fast she could move when she put her mind to it. In seconds she was practically flying across the gravel, though she was still walking. The moonlight was just enough to give her confidence to see the next step before she took it, adding an exhilarating rush to her flight.
But whoever it was behind her had the sure footing of a shifter, and the sounds got closer and closer.
She looked up, trying to spy her destination in the dark. The glow of light coming through the window from her room gave Peyton an idea of how far she had to go.
It was too much. Whoever was following her would be upon her well before she could reach the dubious safety of her building.
She continued hurrying along, hoping that whoever it was might leave her alone. The fact that she’d been specifically told not to go wandering around Base Camp on her own slithered into her mind, creating a pit of fear in her stomach. What kind of trouble would she be in if someone found out? If they apprehended her here, in the middle of the base, without an escort to be found?
