Hunter: A Werebear + BBW Paranormal Romance (Beast Warriors Book 2)

by Devlin, Bliss

  Brett's house was located about a mile away from Rafe and Shannon's home, further down the ranch's narrow gravel driveway.

  As Catrina and Brett set off in the dark, with Brett holding a flashlight, it seemed natural to take his hand. He laced his callused fingers through hers, and they walked side-by-side in comfortable silence for a while.

  Above them, undimmed by city lights, the night sky blazed with thousands of stars.

  The late autumn air had an icy bite, but Shannon had loaned Catrina one of Rafe's big sheepskin coats, and she felt comfortably warm as they walked past the dark bulks of a barn, stables, and storage sheds.

  "I don't suppose you'd mind giving me a lift down to where I left my car?" she asked. "I'd like to get my toothbrush and overnight bag."

  That seemed to break the delicate mood of intimacy between them. Brett hesitated and abruptly released her hand. She missed his touch almost immediately.

  "You know Hal's going to want to search anything you brought with you before he lets you have it," he said harshly.

  Catrina said nothing. Yummy Cowboy had come roaring to her defense with claws and fangs, then kissed the sense out of her—and now he was back to being suspicious.

  After a moment, he said in a more conciliatory tone, "Why don't we go over there in the morning? I'll give Hal a call, and he can meet us there. In the meanwhile, I can give you a toothbrush and something to sleep in."

  "Fair enough." Catrina knew that Hal and the others wouldn't find anything incriminating in her car. She'd made sure of that before setting out on her mission.

  And since she'd been captured before having the chance to do any real reconnaissance, the memory card in her DSLR camera with its long telephoto lens was still new and unused. It just looked like something that a tourist with an interest in wildlife photography might have. She'd packed civilian clothes and regular hiking boots, too.

  She had a laptop locked in her trunk along with her camera bag, but its hard drive was new and held only the most innocuous email and office applications. She had memorized the WSS dossier on Dr. Donlon, then left it behind.

  But the conversation had reminded her that Brett didn't trust her, and that was why he'd offered to serve as her sponsor. And why she was about to spend the night at his place.

  They walked the rest of the way to his home in silence.

  Brett slowed when they arrived at a large, modern building built in a rustic A-frame style, with huge floor-to-ceiling windows and a wide raised deck with firewood stacked high beneath it. The house's windows were all dark, though a porch light shone at the top of the stairs to the deck.

  The light gleamed on the bulk of a large white pickup truck parked next to the firewood under the deck. The Grizzly Peak Ranch logo was stenciled on its driver-side door.

  "I don't have any paying guests at the moment," Brett said as he led the way up the stairs to the front door. "Once hunting season winds down, things get real quiet around here until the spring steelhead run, and then Elysia is overrun with fishermen standing shoulder-to-shoulder along the river."

  "Isn't a bed-and-breakfast a lot of work on top of running a ranch?" Catrina asked with genuine curiosity.

  He chuckled. "That's an understatement, especially since calving coincides with the start of the fishing season. But there's more money in tourism than ranching these days, and tourists seem to love the idea of staying on a working ranch. I'm already completely booked out for March and April. I'm hoping that we can work something out with Erik Redclaw for ranch hands to replace Leif and Svein." He paused. "None of us get much sleep between February and May, so we try to relax as much as possible during the winter months." She saw the quick flash of his grin in the porch light. "Drake accuses us of hibernating like real bears."

  Catrina followed Brett up the stairs to the front door.

  Brett opened it without pulling out his keys, and Catrina was surprised and a little shocked to see he hadn't locked it.

  Then she thought about it. They were miles from anywhere, after all…and with bear shifters in charge, she suspected that burglary was rare in Elysia.

  Brett turned on the lights once they had stepped inside a small mudroom with a tiled floor, coat hooks, shoe racks, and a bench tucked under a window.

  Catrina removed her shoes, took off her borrowed coat and hung it on an empty hook, and followed Brett into the main part of the house.

  She found herself in a great room with a soaring ceiling, floor-to-ceiling windows, and a huge free-standing fireplace made from water-smoothed river rocks dominating the center of the space.

  The Mission-style cherry furniture matched the house's rustic appeal, with large wood-and-leather recliners, end tables, and a wide sofa with sage-colored cushions. There were thick sheepskin rugs scattered over the hardwood floor, and a wide wooden mantle above the fireplace held a fascinating collection of antique items.

  It felt very warm and welcoming, just the kind of place to relax with a book and a drink after a day spent hiking or fishing.

  On the other side of the fireplace, one corner of the room was fitted out as an open-plan kitchen, with granite countertops and shiny appliances. Next to it was a dining area, with a wooden table large enough to seat ten, and another huge window.

  In the morning, this side of the room would probably be filled with sunlight, Catrina guessed.

  Near the mudroom door, a wide staircase with balustrades led up to a second story built over the kitchen and dining room area.

  Brett waited silently while Catrina looked around.

  "This is gorgeous," she told him. "It feels really welcoming."

  He grinned at that, dispelling the lingering awkwardness from their walk.

  Yummy Cowboy was back, and she liked the way his bright blue eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled.

  "That's the idea," he said. "I had a major house fire a few years ago, and when I rebuilt, I wanted a place where my guests could relax and really unwind."

  "I can't wait to see what the view looks like in daylight," she told him.

  His grin widened. "The living room and dining room both have great views of the mountains. You'll see, if it’s not raining again tomorrow."

  She smiled back and felt the air sizzle between them.

  And it's going to be just the two of us in the house tonight, whispered her jaguar.

  Shut up! she told it fiercely.

  Brett was the first to look away. He turned and with a gesture ushered her up the stairs.

  "Let's get you settled in…I've got plenty of rooms, so take your pick. Each has its own bathroom, and I've got a spare set of toiletries I can give you—just basic stuff, like a toothbrush, toothpaste, and a comb—and there's soap and shampoo in the shower. Do you want to borrow a T-shirt from me to sleep in?"

  "Yes, thank you, that would be great," she said, touched by his thoughtfulness.

  The first bedroom Brett showed her was lovely, with more Mission-style furniture and sage-green walls.

  He fetched a Ziploc bag that held the promised toiletries, and a clean T-shirt emblazoned with the Grizzly Peak Ranch logo, then went to the bedroom door.

  "Sleep well," he said. "My bedroom's just down the hall, so if you need anything, just holler."

  I need you, she wanted to say. With iron self-control, she reined in the impulse.

  It was too soon. Way too soon.

  * * *

  The mattress of the guest bed was comfortable, the sheets smooth and clean, and Catrina was exhausted.

  Still, she lay awake for longer than she expected after a day that had included a wild chase through the wilderness, a car accident, a combat fitness evaluation, and an assault by two disgruntled wolf shifters.

  A parade of thoughts marched through her mind thanks to the cataclysmic shifts in her life since she had arrived in Elysia this morning. Many of them involved Colonel Perry and reevaluating her career as a Beast Warrior in light of the revelations she had received today.

  Others
revolved around a certain Yummy Cowboy and the kiss they had shared outside Rafe's house.

  She tried to tell herself that the sudden flare of passion had probably been just a reaction to her fight with Leif and Svein and her earlier brush with death in the form of a station wagon…but she was surprised by the pang of regret she felt at the thought.

  During the walk from Rafe's house to Brett's, Catrina had decided that it had been a good thing that Rafe and Drake had interrupted them, before the kiss went further than was prudent.

  But damn, Brett was good. His touch, his smile, the way he'd shown up in the nick of time…and that kiss.

  Oh my God, that kiss!

  She had wanted him. Badly. And still did.

  But could she really trust her judgment?

  She still felt shaken by the revelation that Colonel Perry had deliberately stolen her memories. And that she had misjudged him so badly in the first place.

  I spent ten years working for him and never figured out what he'd done to me. So how can I be sure that Hal and Brett and Rafe are really the good guys they appear to be?

  Catrina curled up under the thick down comforter with a frustrated sigh.

  Seducing a man she had just met wasn't smart. No matter how badly she wanted to.

  She couldn't. She shouldn't.

  Even if Brett's bedroom was just down the hall.

  Damn it.

  * * *

  Catrina came slowly awake, irritated by an alarm clock beeping somewhere close by.

  She felt warm and comfortable and safe, surrounded by Brett's scent…and his arms. His body felt solid against her back, spooning her.

  He mumbled something she couldn't understand, then she felt his breath against the nape of her neck an instant before he kissed her there with a rasp of stubble against sensitive skin.

  She felt a sensual jolt travel straight down to the pit of her stomach. A slow, hot throb started between her legs.

  Catrina wriggled back against him with a pleased sound and felt his hard cock pushing against her hip. He felt big…and his slow kisses were driving her crazy, especially when she felt his tongue rim her ear with leisurely sensuality.

  A big, callused hand slid under her T-shirt, caressing her stomach before moving up to cup her breast.

  Oh, man, this is such a good dream…now if only someone would shut off the damned alarm…

  His thumb brushed her sensitive nipple, sending another jolt of pleasure straight down to her pussy.

  She arched eagerly into his hand and breathed a soft moan of encouragement.

  Brett's arm tightened around her. Then, suddenly, she was on her back, and he was above her, pinning her down.

  She came fully awake with heart pounding and every muscle tensed to fight him off.

  Shit, not a dream! That bastard is here, in my bedroom, molesting me!

  "You're going to be sorry for this, you son of a bitch!" Catrina snarled up at him with mingled anger and fear.

  She surged up from the mattress, straining to push him off.

  He didn't budge. He was lying across her hips, his body hard and heavy, pressing her into the mattress, and his hands were closed painfully tight around her wrists.

  His grip was unyielding, no matter how hard she struggled. And she could see his ferocious scowl even in the room's dim light

  "What the hell," he growled down at her, "are you doing here?"

  "W-what?" Catrina felt bewilderment seep around the edges of her rage. "What am I doing? What are you doing? Get off me! Get out!"

  "Get out?" Brett repeated, sounding incredulous."You're in my room. My bed."

  She stared up at him. His words didn't make sense…Catrina whipped her head from side to side, looking around wildly.

  And felt a sickening swoop in her gut when she realized he was right.

  This wasn't the guest bedroom where she'd fallen asleep.

  The window was in the wrong place, the silhouettes of the furniture were subtly different, and everything smelled of Brett, layers of scent that indicated long occupancy.

  Shit! she thought, pushing down panic. Shit! Shit! Shit!

  He made a frustrated sound. "And just how did you get in here without waking me up?"

  "I—I have no fucking idea," Catrina protested, trying and failing to break the iron hold he had on her wrists. "I fell asleep in my bed and woke up…here. When you started making out with me."

  Brett froze. The moon had risen, and a square of silver light lay on the carpet in front of the window. Yummy Cowboy apparently hadn't bothered to close his curtains.

  She became aware that he slept in the nude and that she was wearing only panties and the T-shirt, which had ridden up to expose her stomach.

  His bare skin against her felt feverishly hot.

  She was completely at his mercy. He was strong—frighteningly strong. Overwhelmingly strong. Bear shifters were ranked second only to dragons in sheer physical prowess, a fact that was suddenly, overwhelmingly clear to her now.

  Maybe she could fight her way free if she had fangs and claws, but she didn't dare shift in this situation, which would leave her completely helpless for the period of time it took to complete her transformation.

  And…despite having her pinned down, he wasn't trying anything, not now, with both of them awake.

  Tensely, she waited to see what he would do next.

  After a long moment, Brett released a long breath. She couldn't interpret the expression on his face as he gazed down at her.

  "Damn it," he breathed.

  His bruising grip on her wrists eased. She broke free, rolled away from him, and scrambled out of the bed, panting with rage and humiliation.

  "What the hell is going on?" she demanded.

  She had never sleepwalked before. And for her to have left her guest room, walked up the hallway, opened Brett's door, and crawled into bed with him, all without waking up and without either her jaguar or his bear reacting to the proximity of a stranger…well, it was really unsettling and really fucking weird.

  The alarm was still shrilling. Brett, who was still on the bed, reached over and slapped the Off button. The clock radio exploded into shards of plastic and bits of electronics that sparked.

  Brett cursed, and Catrina fought a sudden onset of giggles.

  All shifters sometimes forgot their strength around everyday objects, but it was rare for an old shifter to do so. She must have really thrown Yummy Cowboy off-balance.

  As if sensing her amusement, he glared up at Catrina.

  "Get back to your room. Get some more sleep while I finish my morning chores. Don't leave the house until I get back," he barked.

  Catrina scowled back. "Yes, sir," she said sarcastically.

  Then she turned on her heel and left his bedroom. She marched down the hallway back to the guest room, angry and confused and aching with unsatisfied need.

  What the hell was going on? Had she gone completely insane?

  Chapter 7 – Fated

  After the shock of having apparently sleepwalked her way into Brett's bed, Catrina didn't expect to fall asleep again.

  She curled under the coverlet of the guest bed in the predawn darkness, listening to the small sounds of Brett moving around and smelling the scents of coffee and toast, and tried to figure out what was happening to her.

  Then she heard the front door open and close, and a minute or two later, the sound of his pickup truck's engine rumbling to life. Gravel crunched under tires, and the sound moved away and faded.

  He was gone. Catrina let out a long breath. She told herself it was relief, but the house felt empty without his presence.

  What the hell just happened? she asked her jaguar. Why didn't you wake me up?

  No answer.

  When she woke the second time, it was to find bright sunshine peeking through the curtains of the guest room. She strained her ears for any sounds and heard nothing beyond the gentle hum of appliances downstairs and birdsong outside.

  Brett appare
ntly hadn't returned yet from his morning chores.

  She got out of bed and crept into the bathroom, where she took care of business and dressed as quickly as she could.

  Catrina opened her bedroom door and stuck her head cautiously out into the doorway. Still nothing.

  She ventured cautiously downstairs to find his cowboy hat, coat, and boots gone from the mud room.

  Now that she was up and dressed, she wanted some answers about the earlier weirdness, damn it!

  Her stomach growled as she stood staring at the empty coat hook.

  Fine. First things first. She had learned to eat whenever she could on a mission, and she had the feeling she'd need all the strength she could get to deal with Brett when he finally returned.

  Catrina walked over to the kitchen area, hoping to scrounge up some cereal or toast from his cupboards.

  To her surprise, she found breakfast laid out for heron the small table in the breakfast nook: a large insulated jug of coffee, a toaster standing next to a loaf of homemade bread on a cutting board with a serrated knife, a butter dish, a jar of homemade huckleberry jam, and a soft-boiled egg kept warm under a knitted egg cozy shaped like a teddy bear.

  That last item made her smile. That egg cozy had all the hallmarks of a handmade gift. With an odd pang, she wondered if it had been made by a girlfriend or a wife.

  There was a notepad propped up against the coffee pot. Catrina picked it up and saw beautiful old-fashioned copperplate handwriting.

  Dear Catrina,

  I'll be back in time to take you out to your car, and then we can talk about what happened this morning.

  Please make yourself at home. There's satellite TV in the living room as well as magazines and books.

  See you soon,

  B.

  She poured herself a cup of the coffee and added a shot of milk from the carton she found in the fridge.

  Her first sip of the rich, strong brew brought back strong feelings of nostalgia and the tantalizing feeling of memories stirring restlessly on the other side of a high stone wall.

  She wolfed down the soft-boiled egg and the first slice of toast, then lingered over a second slice, telling herself to relax and enjoy the view from the floor-to-ceiling windows.