Bear Exposure (Highland Brothers 3)

by Meredith Clarke

  “Want to see?”

  “You have some here other than the magazines?”

  “Yes. I used to develop film. I thought it was more real. The textures. The process. I love it. I have a darkroom next to the wine cellar.”

  Her eyes widened. “Wine cellar? This place has everything. Except food.” She giggled.

  “I’ll get the food by tonight. Come on.” He led her away from the kitchen and down the stairs.

  He threaded his fingers through hers, tugging her against his back. They descended the staircase and Striker opened a door at the other end of the cellar.

  This was the first time he had let anyone see his darkroom. But, Presley was his mate. He was going to share his entire life with her. This seemed like a good place to start.

  12

  Presley

  Striker revealed a revolving door on the other side of the wine cellar.

  “Step in here and just push until you’re on the other side,” he instructed.

  She did as he told her and emerged in total darkness. She felt quick prickles of fear, but within seconds Striker was behind her. She felt his arm slide against her stomach, and then the room was thrown into shades of red light.

  Her shoulders relaxed. Just being next to him quieted her anxiety.

  “I haven’t been down here in ages.” He moved around, shoveling piles of photo paper onto the table so she could sit on a stool.

  “This feels like we’re in an underground bunker or something.” She looked around the room.

  “I have to have the door to keep light out. If someone goes in the cellar and flips on a light anything I’m working on would be ruined. It’s an extra precaution.” He held a photograph to his face.

  The room smelled earthy like the cellar, but there was a hint of a chemical odor. She saw rows of canisters on the shelves behind him.

  He handed her one of the sheets. “This was something I worked on.”

  She studied the picture. It was a hiker on the edge of a cliff. The expression on his face was one she recognized. Desperation. Fear.

  “How did you capture this?” She turned to look at him.

  “I saw him from a distance when I was hiking. He looked lost. He looked like a man running from his soul.”

  “I can tell.” She wanted to touch the lines on his face, but she knew better than to get her prints on the page.

  “And there’s this one.” He handed her another shot.

  It was a shot pointed straight down the side of a ravine. Presley felt slightly queasy. “It’s like I could fall over the side. This had to be dangerous.”

  He chuckled. “It made you feel something didn’t it?”

  “Yes.” She nodded. “They’re incredible.”

  They all did. She looked at the prints dangling from the strings. They were amazing. Each one drew a different emotion from her. She walked toward one of a girl with dark hair, leaning over a balcony railing.

  Striker reached in front of her and snatched it from the lineup. He tossed it in a bin in the corner.

  “Who was that?” she asked.

  “Nobody. Someone I used to date.”

  “Nobody?”

  It was sudden and violent, but the jealousy seized her. Her eyes narrowed at the crumpled photo. She had no right. No reason, but she suddenly hated the girl in the picture. She didn’t like the idea of Striker being with someone else. After last night she felt like she belonged to him. It didn’t make sense, but every part of her felt as if he owned her body.

  “Ok. Not nobody. But it’s been over awhile.”

  “How long ago?” She couldn’t help but ask. Suddenly, Striker’s love life was her number one interest.

  “What?”

  “The girl in the picture.”

  “Six months ago. She’s not important, Pres.”

  She sat on a stool, watching him leaf through a stack of pictures.

  “What about now?”

  “Are you asking if I’m in a relationship?” His pupils darkened and the corners of his eyes creased.

  “Yeah. What’s your status?”

  It might have been a good question to ask before jumping in bed with him, but it wasn’t as if this was a normal way to meet someone. Everything that had happened between them had been sheer physical impulse. The ice storm. The accident. It was one big set up.

  “I’m not seeing anyone.” He grinned. “Until now.”

  She felt the flutter in her stomach. Holy shit. “Oh.”

  “What about you?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “No.” She couldn’t describe it, but she had a feeling he already knew she was completely available.

  She turned toward the revolving door.

  “Do you ever get claustrophobic down here?”

  “No, I like it. Kind of cozy like a cave don’t you think?”

  The red light made the room feel as if they were in a secret vault or maybe a submarine. Presley felt her lungs taking shallow breaths.

  Striker continued. He didn’t notice her breathing pattern had changed. “But I don’t work with film like I used to. I think maybe that’s what’s missing.” He reached in a cabinet and pulled out a couple of rolls of film and a large camera.

  Presley’s hand flattened against the wall. It felt too small. The space was closing in on her.

  “Pres?” She heard Striker’s voice and then the red faded to black.

  * * *

  She opened her eyes. She was in his bed again. She looked up, startled his eyes were on her.

  “You’ve got to stop doing that.”

  “What?” She sat up.

  “Passing out on me.” He brushed the hair from her face. “Why didn’t you tell me you were claustrophobic? I would never have taken you to the darkroom.”

  “I didn’t know. It sort of hit me out of nowhere.”

  He reached for her hand, and traced a line on her palm. The motion sent chills up her arm.

  “How do you feel now?”

  “I’m fine. Embarrassed, but fine.”

  She noticed the camera next to the bed.

  He followed her eyes. “I thought I might take a hike today and try a few shots on film. Being in the darkroom reminded me how much I enjoy developing my own work.”

  “Oh, that sounds like a good idea.”

  “Want to join me?”

  She looked out the window at the icicles dripping from the tree limbs. It was warm and soothing under the covers. Striker had started another fire in the fireplace.

  “I was thinking I might try reading one of Hudson’s books. Why don’t you go and I’ll hang here?”

  She didn’t want to get out of bed. As a matter of fact, she would have been happy if Striker had climbed in bed with her, but she could tell he was distracted by the camera.

  He kissed her forehead. “All right. I’ll call in the delivery before I leave. I might be gone a couple of hours, so just let the driver in. He knows where everything belongs. He’ll put it away for you.”

  She sat forward in bed. “Wow. He’ll do that?”

  “Oh, yeah. If there is something I forgot just tell him.”

  “Ok.”

  “Hold on. Don’t move.” Striker walked out of the room and returned with an armful of books. He placed them on the bedside table. “Here is Hudson’s complete collection.”

  She reached for the one on top. “I think I’m set.”

  He looped the camera around his neck. “Need anything else?”

  She shook her head. If she told him she wanted him it might sound desperate. An afternoon curled up in his bed with a good book while it was icy and cold outside sounded like heaven. She’d keep it warm for him.

  “Are you sure?” he asked.

  She wondered if he was reading her thoughts. Was it written all over her face that she wanted him again?

  He took the camera off his neck, placing it back on the table. His eyes locked on hers, burning with lust.

  She sighed as his mouth moved to h
er neck. His teeth pressed against her throat. He shoved the books to the floor as he climbed on top of her.

  “I think I need something before I go,” he growled.

  “What’s that?” she breathed.

  “You.”

  13

  Striker

  Striker smiled as he opened the garage door. His mate was in his bed. She would be there when he returned, waiting for him to claim her like he just did. He held the camera in his hands. He hadn’t been this anxious to look through the lens in months. He finally realized why he hadn’t had any inspiration. He needed Presley. His bear had been trying to tell him, and he had pushed the urges away. Pushed away his search.

  He was always worried the next woman would be another Cassie—perfect on paper, but not made for his bear.

  The cold ground crunched under his boots.

  He pushed a limb out of his way as he started on the trail behind the house. The path led to the fishing lake he and his brothers used.

  Twenty minutes later he scaled over a rock and stood on top. The lake was frozen with chips of ice. He brought the camera to his eye and twisted the lens into focus. He could see his breath as he exhaled.

  He didn’t know why he had locked this camera away. Maybe it was because the last time he used it was with Cassie. That seemed fucking absurd now. He knew she wasn’t his mate, but after last night he actually knew the meaning. Now that Presley was here, it didn’t seem to matter how much time he had spent waiting for her.

  He had wasted time and emotion on a woman he shouldn’t have spent a single night with. Presley was all he needed. He knew that now.

  He pressed on the shutter release, exhaling as he brought everything into focus. He grinned. He was rusty with the camera, but it was coming back to him.

  He jumped off the rock and walked around the lake. He could get lost here. Not too lost—there was a beautiful woman waiting for him.

  * * *

  Presley

  She closed the book, looking around the room. She didn’t know how long Striker would be gone. He looked excited and anxious to start his hike.

  She’d never been around an artist. That’s what he was. His art was formed through his camera. When he showed her the magazine articles last night she was surprised. When he told her he was from a family of famous brothers, she didn’t know if she had stumbled into some kind of fairytale.

  This kind of thing didn’t happen. Wealthy, hot, broody artist was making her breakfast, and taking her body to places she didn’t know she wanted to go. She had run off the road and straight into Mr. Perfect’s arms.

  Not only that, she could hide from the pack. Colton wouldn’t find her. She was safe with Striker.

  She peeled the covers off her legs and walked to his bathroom. She examined the countertop and held a bottle of his cologne to her nose. It smelled clean and fresh like him. She reached for the shower nozzle and started the water.

  She hated washing his scent off her, but she knew she needed another shower. There was no telling when the power would go out again, and she wasn’t about to take a cold shower.

  The water trickled over her hips. She wrapped her hands across the soft flesh of her stomach. Presley felt different. Her body was warm and humming. So many things had happened in the past twenty-four hours it would make sense she felt slightly drunk.

  She toweled off and got dressed. She carried Hudson’s book with her down the stairs. She would read while she waited for Striker to get back. She hoped he was right about the food delivery. She was starving. Hungrier than usual.

  Striker had left the fire burning for her downstairs. She tossed another log on top to warm the room. She settled on the couch with the quilt he had wrapped her in last night.

  She jumped when she heard the doorbell ring. “Thank, God,” she murmured. “I’m ready to eat my arm.”

  She whipped open the door, expecting to see someone from the Highland office with bags of food.

  Her mouth dropped before she could register she needed to close the door.

  “Holy shit,” she whispered.

  Colton grinned in front of her. His blue eyes sparkled. “You took off, Presley. Why’d you do that?”

  She tried to slam the door closed, but she wasn’t quick or strong enough. Colton kicked the door and yanked her on the porch. She screamed when his hand clamped on her wrist.

  “Get off me!” she shrieked.

  He pulled her down the first step.

  “I don’t think so. You missed your date with the pack.”

  “No. I’m not going anywhere with you.” She tried to grab the railing, the steps, anything she could wrap her fingers around but Colton dragged her to the driveway.

  She kicked her legs, but his hold on her waist was strong.

  She tried to scream, but he wrapped a cloth around her mouth and tied it before shoving her in the backseat of a car. He crawled toward her, pinning her wrists together and securing them with rope.

  There was a man behind the steering wheel. “Ready?” he asked Colton.

  “Yeah, get out of here before he comes back.”

  Presley’s eyes widened. Her heart almost stopped beating. Striker wouldn’t know where she was. He wouldn’t know she had been taken. Once the car drove off the Highland property, she knew it would be as if she had vanished in thin air.

  The tears streaked down her face.

  “Don’t worry, baby. The pack will take good care of you.” Colton grinned as the car peeled out of the driveway.

  14

  Striker

  He couldn’t wait to get back to the darkroom and develop the pictures from his shoot. If he could process these, he might just have his next exhibit in this camera. He felt invigorated. Alive. And Presley would be there waiting for him. Ready for him to take her to bed. That would have to come first before he looked at the negatives. His bear missed her. He didn’t know a bond with a mate would be this strong.

  He stepped into the path’s clearing and looked up at the house. His nose was instantly hit with an unwelcome scent. He sniffed again.

  “Wolves,” he growled.

  He looked around the yard. It seemed quiet, but wolves were known to be stealth. He could smell them. There were two.

  He slipped in through the garage door and hurried into the house. “Presley?”

  The fire was burning low. He saw Hudson’s book on the couch. He called her name again as he took the stairs two at a time. His room was empty.

  He raced to the first floor. He didn’t smell the wolves downstairs. Nothing made sense.

  The doorbell rang and he whipped the door open.

  “Mr. Highland, your delivery.”

  Striker was instantly hit with the smell. He growled, dragging the man over the threshold and into the house.

  He squeaked in Striker’s hands.

  “Where is she?” he growled.

  “I just brought food. It’s on the porch.”

  Striker realized he wasn’t the wolf. The scent was coming from the door. He walked onto the porch, picking up the lingering odor. The wolves had been here. He had told Presley to open the door for the delivery. Fuck.

  He jogged down the stairs, following the scent. It stopped in the driveway. Someone had taken her. His bear roared from within. His mate was gone.

  * * *

  Presley

  The gag cut into the corners of Presley’s mouth. She knew it was pointless to scream. Colton and his buddy were the only ones in the car. She leaned against the window, watching the miles blur past.

  Colton’s hand landed on her knee and he squeezed. “Still can’t believe I found you so quickly. I called, but when you didn’t answer I knew I needed to find you.”

  In the backseat of the car he didn’t look nearly as charming as he had the night she met him at the bar.

  It was stupid to think a nice guy would hang out in a dump like that. But he had lured her in with compliments. And something in his eyes made her want to follow him. She curs
ed herself now. She was a fucking idiot. At least she never slept with him. It didn’t go past a kiss on her front porch.

  “We’re almost there now.” His hand curled to the inside of her thigh. “They’re going to love you. All of you.” He cupped between her legs and Presley squirmed closer to the door.

  Colton chuckled. “Don’t worry. Once you’re a part of the pack, you’ll love it too.” His finger moved to her face and began to stroke her cheek.

  “Want me to pull over now?” the driver asked. “You can have her before the rest of the pack. They’ll understand. You found her. It might help to break her in. Take the edge off.”

  Alarm bells rang in her head. She tried to shove Colton off of her. “No,” he answered. “I don’t want to get ahead of myself. The pack deserves her as much as I do. We will take her in the mating ritual.”

  She started to whimper. What was going to happen to her?

  “It’s all right.” He licked against her neck. All she could do was stay still. “Once we’ve all had you, I’ll be the one to bite you.” He nipped at her neck and she jumped almost hitting the roof of the car. “Then, you’ll be the female alpha. The she-wolf I’ve been looking for.”

  She closed her eyes. This had to be a nightmare. It couldn’t be real. But something told her every part of it was real. Her stomach lurched and she thought she was going to be sick in the back of the car.

  15

  Striker

  Striker knew he didn’t have much time. He jumped behind the wheel of his SUV and peeled out of the driveway. The back end of the car fishtailed over the ice. The roads were a nightmare.

  It was unlikely the wolves would drive toward the city. He had to take a chance they were headed east. He pointed his car in the direction and pressed the accelerator as far as it would go, smashing it against the floorboard.