by Mary Winter
He peppered kisses over her jaw and along the column of her neck. Unerringly, his lips found her pulse point and traveled the length of the vein that ran beneath her skin. His warm breath caressed her skin. His hands and body kept the chill of the storm outside at bay. The rustle of tent canvas in the wind combined with the slide of the sleeping bag shells created a whisper-soft serenade to Liam’s seduction.
Sarah curled her fingers into the thick knit of his sweater. She tugged at it, lifting it above his jeans. Though she couldn’t see his smooth, tanned skin over his muscled body, she imagined it in her mind. She yanked off her gloves and let them fall beside them.
One minute his palms pressed against her buttocks, the next, his fingers closed around her wrists. “Wait!” he growled. He exhaled a rough breath.
Sarah stiffened. Resting on top of him, she felt him intimately. Her panting breaths exhaled plumes of steamy air. What was she doing? She slammed the door on that part of her mind seeking to question what she was doing. She didn’t need it. Not out here with Liam.
“Wait for what?” she asked. If her voice dipped into a sultry register she didn’t notice.
Liam stared at her. Though it was still daylight outside, shadows formed in the corners of the tent. His dark eyes seemed to absorb the light, drawing her into a world with which she had no experience. He searched her face, though she had no idea what he was looking for.
His silence unnerved her. She wriggled, trying to put some distance between them, but her movements only served to heighten the tension. Removing one hand from her wrists, he cupped her waist in a silent plea to still. She did and licked her lips, wondering what would happen next.
She knew what she wanted to happen. Knew it with a certainty in her heart and an aching in her core. This secluded tent, a snowstorm that wouldn’t last, it created the perfect scene for her to give into her baser desires and have sex with him. Would it be so bad? Women had flings all the time. Though she never had been one to indulge, she knew of plenty of women who used the political world as their own sexual playground. A one-night stand in Alaska before she went home would be understandable. Heck, she had no doubts to some it would be expected.
But the longer the silence stretched out between them, the more she knew, if they consummated the sparks between them, it’d be more than a fling. It’d probably be more than either one of them could afford. So why then, did she lean forward enough to press his hand between her breasts. His warm breath caressed her lips. She did the only thing she could, she closed the space between them and kissed him.
Sarah refused to take no for an answer. Sprawling along his body, she molded herself to him. His hands and hers nestled between her breasts. Her mouth moved hungrily over his. She demanded his surrender. He would give her the fling she should be having right now, and he’d give it to her right here in this tent.
Liam tore his lips away. “Sarah. No.” He rolled so she lay beside him. Straightening his arms, he put as much distance between them as he could.
“Why?” The flaps were closed over the tent windows, but she figured it was probably still snowing outside. Even if Liam thought the storm would end they couldn’t stay in the tent, staring at each other for the next two hours. Right?
Quicker than she thought was possible, he propelled himself out of the sleeping bags. He picked up her gloves and tossed them at her. “Put these on.”
She did, though he didn’t answer her original question. Unabashedly, she let her attention roam his body and knew from the tight fit of his jeans he still wanted her. For a moment she thought about stripping out of her parka and clothing. Maybe he’d take her then. Except that would be begging and Sarah Doyle had never begged for anything in her life.
“I’m going out.” He didn’t ask for permission, simply turned, unzipped the tent and stepped into the swirling snow. Through the opening, she saw it covered the ground at least an inch, maybe two, and continued to fall.
“You’re going to freeze your ass off.” Sarah burrowed deeper into the sleeping bags. She pulled her cap back down over her ears.
“No I’m not.” The zipper rasped closed, leaving Sarah alone with her thoughts.
“Well, hell,” she muttered. And she swore she heard a masculine chuckle drift on the wind.
Chapter Thirteen
Liam broke into a jog as he plowed through the snow on the ground. Flurries swirled around him. Flakes landed on his eyelashes only to melt from the intense heat rolling from his body. Inside his coat he sweltered. He flung off his gloves, tossing them to the ground in his wake. He grabbed his zipper, sliding it down. A plume of steam rose from inside his coat.
The bear pounded for freedom.
Liam glanced behind him. Snow nearly obscured the tent. He saw no sign of life outside and prayed Sarah stayed inside. Flinging off his coat, he raced for the safety of the woods where he could let the bear out. Without his coat, heat rolled from him in waves. Sweat soaked his clothing. It ran down his back and dripped in rivulets into the waistband of his jeans. Tugging off his stocking cap, he flipped wet strands of hair off his forehead. The need to change had never been this powerful before.
It scared him. He stumbled, half afraid if he looked back he’d see Sarah standing in front of the tent watching his every movement. His fingers curled into claws, fingernails lengthening. Hair sprouted on the back of his hands. He was still several yards away from the trees and he was going to change.
Liam swallowed the yell of denial rising in his throat. He stumbled, catching himself on his hands in the snow. He tore at his clothes, possessing just enough sense of self to duck into a small bunch of trees. He shimmied out of his clothing, folding it neatly over a branch. His outerwear he couldn’t do much about. It had been tossed along the wayside as he hurried away from camp. His clothing, though, he wanted when he came back to his human form.
Fully naked, Liam gave into the beast inside. He opened his mouth, head tilted back, a mighty roar erupting from him like lava from a volcano. In a flash, his worldview changed. Where he’d been a naked man on all-fours in the snow, now a full-grown male grizzly bear stood in its place. He rose on his hind legs and shook himself all over. With a series of short grunts, he loped away.
The bear reveled in the falling snow. Scents filled his nostrils, not quite obscured. There, a cache of nuts a squirrel had hid in the base of a large oak tree. Next to a low bush, a deer had left scat. The loamy smell of decay and the rich scent of hibernating earth blossomed on the wind. Lifting onto his hind legs again, he pawed the air. Muscles moved beneath his skin. The raw power inherent in this form always awed him. Dropping down to all fours, he shuffled off through the woods.
He couldn’t stay ursine for long. Back in the tent, Sarah would worry. Snow fell thicker now, nearly obscuring his vision. He tried to stay away from the tent, but caught a glimpse of it out of the corner of his eye. Whirling, he shuffled off. Snow plumed from his footsteps. He couldn’t resist the allure of the fresh snowfall. Snorting, he stomped in it, then flopped over and started swishing his arms and legs, making a bear-shaped snow angel.
His muscles stretched. His keen senses told him everything he needed to know about his forest home, including the fact that Sarah remained in the tent. Not only for the duration of her visit, but even before he’d repressed his ursine nature. Somehow, his dissatisfaction with the Quintursa’s actions was spilling over into his relationship with his bear.
The man inside knew this was why things couldn’t go very far between them. He’d be forever hiding his ursine nature and he couldn’t live that way. The last few weeks had proven that. Releasing his breath in a huff, he shambled around stiff-legged, rising up to pounce on the snow like a five hundred pound kitten. For these moments he let the bear out to play. And like a kitten kept cooped up, the bear didn’t know what to do next. Roll in the snow. Jump in it. Stand on his hind legs and survey his territory. He did each in equal measure.
His cavorting carried him closer to the tent. Sar
ah’s presence drew him like a lure. Outside, he stopped, blowing short, harsh breaths. Turning on his hind legs, he fled back toward the woods, the mental image of her sprawled on top of him, their bodies connected as intimately as they could be and still be fully clothed, haunting him. Just let her go back to D.C.. The mission is pretty much done. Just let her go.
Something inside him twisted at the thought. He couldn’t let her go. The Quintursa be damned, but she was the first woman for a long time, and he suspected maybe ever, who fired his blood like this. She made him feel as wild as the grizzly inside him was. She made him feel as if he were living. Cameron would be the first to tell him that he hadn’t lived for a while.
Liam hung his head. He walked back to where his clothes where, knowing he was doing the right thing. The snow fall eased to just a few flakes. In a short while it would stop. If they broke camp they could return to the lodge within a couple of hours of nightfall. He shook his head. No, he promised her a camping trip. He’d give her this overnight in the woods and then he’d send her back to D.C.. It was the least he could do for lying to her.
He stood in the shadows of the trees in his ursine form. The frozen lump of his clothes on the tree branch didn’t appeal to him. What he wanted more than life itself was to return to the tent, switch forms, and reveal the truth. Sarah couldn’t write a report favoring drilling. Because if she did, his people would perish.
~* * *~
The dark shadow moving outside the tent looked too blocky to be a tree. It moved and Sarah heard a low huffing sound reminiscent of the bear. She stiffened inside the sleeping bag. Surely Liam wouldn’t have gone off and left her alone for a bear to wander into their camp. She frowned. It wouldn’t have been the first time.
Liam’s unique relationship with the area’s bears puzzled her. A normal man wouldn’t have charged the grizzly their first time out. He also probably wouldn’t have deliberately taken her to a place where he knew a bear was and “introduced” them. A part of her discounted his actions as a way to convince her to write her report favoring the wilderness and not the oil drillers. But she didn’t need any persuasion to do that and she would think that an image of grizzlies as fearsome killing machines would keep people away. The teddy bears he was showing her made it seem almost like an amusement park instead of a wilderness preserve.
Sarah frowned. Her analytical mind churned. Too many things weren’t adding up here. She crawled out of the sleeping bags and over to the tent flap. Tugging off her glove, she pressed the zipper’s tab between her cold fingers. She nibbled on her lower lip, not caring that the moisture would chap it. Her stomach churned. She really didn’t want to know what was on the other side.
She inched the zipper up. A few flakes of snow blew inside the small two inch opening. Through it, muted light, filtered by clouds and snowfall trickled. She doubled the gap in the zipper. Lying on her stomach, she peered through the slit. A flash of brown, a low growl, and she saw the grizzly.
She stifled a squeak with the back of her glove. She’d been in the tent for several minutes at least; she didn’t dare move to check her watch. The grizzly hadn’t shown any signs of coming closer to the tent. The images she had of the bear crashing through the thin wall to maul her dissipated.
She inched the zipper open enough to stick her head out the opening. Probably not the wisest thing she’d ever done. The bear stopped. It had its back to her, and she found herself staring at a massive rump. A tiny tail twitched back and forth. Heavy paws sank into the snow, churning it so she couldn’t see Liam’s tracks. The bear stood so close she bet she could have reached out and stroked its dark fur.
Liam.
From this angle the bear’s fur looked exactly like Liam’s hair.
Liam left and the bear had appeared. Just like before.
Sarah shook her head to try and dislodge the incredulous thoughts. Surely Liam wasn’t the bear. A person didn’t turn into a grizzly. She opened her mouth to laugh, then closed it again, half afraid of startling the bear. Plus, if Liam had wanted her to know about his abilities, he would have told her.
She frowned and ducked back into the tent. It didn’t follow that he’d tell her. After all, she’d be returning to Washington D.C. and never see him again.
The bear shuffled away.
Loss welled up deep inside her as she watched it shamble back to the woods. If it were Liam he moved so dejectedly that she wanted to wrap her arms around his thick fur and hold him. He’d probably be warmer in his bear-form than he was in human. A grin quirked the corners of her lips. To think a man could turn into something as majestic as a bear…Sarah’s thoughts short circuited. She scrambled back into the tent and found her notebook. Not caring that she’d left the tent flap open several inches, she yanked off her gloves, found a pen and began to write.
She jotted down notes as fast as she could. Her fingers cramped. The cold seeped into her bones, making the tips of her digits turn white. She dropped the pen, her hands aching, and pulled them back into her gloves. Still, Liam hadn’t returned.
Through the opening in the tent, she watched the light turn orange with the approaching dusk. Sarah crawled over the sleeping bags. An image of them entwined rose in her mind. She halted, wondering if she burrowed into the downy shells if she’d still smell Liam’s woodsy aroma. Her hands ached as she moved and she had no idea how long she’d been writing. Twenty minutes, thirty maybe, though the temperatures didn’t seem cold enough. Pain stabbed through the tips of her fingers. Her breath hissed from between clenched teeth as she tried to make a fist. She couldn’t have come all this way just to get frostbit.
Finally, she reached the tent opening. She glanced longingly at the sleeping bags. Maybe just crawling inside them and tucking her hands beneath her armpits would be the smarter course of action. No, she had to know about the bear. Gingerly, she reached for the zipper tab. Her gloved hands were clumsy, but she managed to open the flap enough to push her head and shoulders out. There were lots of tracks, but no sign of the bear or Liam.
Think, Sarah, think! She drew a deep breath of frigid air before ducking back inside the tent. She managed to pull the zipper closed, then wrangled her way back into the sleeping bags. Pressing her hands between her knees, she waited for the shivering to start.
Silence surrounded her. Not even tree branches leaden with snow creaked above the tent. Sarah strained to hear the chuffing noises the bear made. She heard nothing. Even in D.C. the snow was never the silent, like a muffled blanket over everything. In the middle of a blizzard, she’d still hear cars and sirens. Out here, she heard nothing except her own heartbeat.
The crunch of feet against snow shattered the silence.
“Liam?” Sarah called. After all her time in the wilderness, she felt a little foolish at being startled by the sound of someone approaching the tent. It could be Liam. It could be his brother Cameron. It could be some stranger. Surely she wasn’t the only tourist in the area.
“It’s me, Sarah.” Liam’s tired voice sounded as welcome as a steaming mug of cocoa during a blizzard. “I hate to ask this, but can I have the tent for a moment?”
She groaned thinking about drawing herself out of the warm bags. Her fingers no longer tingled, though occasional pains shot through them. Going outside ranked about as desirable right now as returning to Walt. She frowned at the sudden thought. “Okay,” she answered.
A heavy thud penetrated the thin walls of the tent. The sound propelled her out and to the opening of the tent. She managed to open it, thankful her hands weren’t quite as bad off as they’d been, and crawled outside.
Liam’s hair looked frozen to his head beneath the hem of his stocking cap. He wore his parka and what appeared to be wet jeans.
“What happened to you?” She stepped aside to allow him to enter, noticing how carefully he moved in his stiff pants.
“Fell into a creek,” he muttered. “Damn ice broke.” He ducked inside the tent and zipped it closed.
She watched his shad
ow move around inside, thinking that if that had been the case, then his stocking cap and parka should have been frozen too. She shook her head. Liam’s actions only lent credence to her theory that he shifted into a polar bear. She stuffed the back of her glove against her mouth to keep from laughing aloud at the absurd motion. Yet, her aching fingers reminded her of the notes she’d taken and how sound her idea sounded when put into the black and white world of pen and paper.
“You almost done in there? I’m freezing my ass off,” she called into the tent just to see what his reaction would be.
“Yeah,” came his gruff reply.
Sarah stepped back. She’d expected a flirty innuendo or some sort of smart remark. His curt answer, bordering on rude, shocked her. The zipper opened and Liam tossed his frozen jeans into the snow. He crawled out after them. Picking them up, he hung them over a limb off the tree. His cheeks weren’t red. He worked without his gloves.
“You didn’t fall into a creek, did you?” Sarah braced her hands on her hips.
Liam turned away from the tree. Behind him, his jeans stuck out at odd angles, not quite conforming to the bend in the tree branch.
She glanced at his boots. They definitely hadn’t gotten wet.
Liam didn’t answer.
“Come on. What gives? You didn’t fall into a creek. You’re working with your gloves. You leave and a grizzly bear shows up. For the second time.” Sarah struggled to keep her voice even. She stepped forward with the need to challenge him into admitting the truth. She did that sometimes with the political-types she spoke with. Get in their face and suddenly they told you everything.
Liam crossed his arms over his chest. He frowned, and had she not known him as intimately as she did, she figured the look was supposed to scare her away from her line of questioning. “I fell in a creek.”
“Don’t lie to me!” She poked him in the chest.
He grabbed her wrist and twisted her arm behind her back.
Sarah cried out. Twinges, quickly silenced, shot through her fingers.
