Prime Series Collection: (Broken Prime, Prime Desire, Mated Prime)

by Tiffany Allee

  She snorted around the bite of food. Together, they cleared out every bit of breakfast he'd made, and she had to admit that she felt better with a full stomach.

  After they finished, she helped him load the dishwasher and then he grabbed her bags. She followed him to his truck. “Is the trailhead far?”

  “There's not really a trailhead, but the place we’ll have to start on foot isn't far.” He frowned at her. “I’d normally take horses up—I have a friend down the road who will loan me a couple to ride—but I figured you wouldn’t like that.”

  Relief quelled the sudden spike of fear that had hit her when he’d said horses. “You’re right. I'd rather hoof it with my own two feet.” After a moment’s hesitation, she added, “Thank you.”

  She was scared to death of horses. Ever since she’d been bucked off one when she was a kid—sending her to the hospital with a broken arm—she hadn't been able to stomach the idea of literally getting back in the saddle. It was nice, knowing that he’d taken that into consideration.

  “So the first mile will be pretty easy, but then we have about a quarter mile of some tricky rocks to get up. Nothing we’ll need ropes for—no real climbing—but it will slow us down. After that, more easy hiking.” He continued to brief her on the trail that lay ahead, but a sudden niggling in the back of her brain distracted her. It took her a few seconds to grasp, and she almost yelled in outrage.

  How had he known about her fear of horses?

  She narrowed her gaze at him, but with his eyes on the road, he didn't seem to notice—or maybe he thought it was related to whatever he was saying about the trail. She'd lost that thread of conversation with her realization.

  She was about to call him out on it when she thought better of it. She could keep this little bit of information to herself, until she decided what she wanted to make of it. Was it weird or nice?

  There were any number of ways he could have unearthed that little fear. It wasn't exactly a secret. In fact, she'd embraced it by listing horseback riding as one of her top three things she was scared of on Facebook, but that had been years ago.

  She wanted to get over her fear someday. A good opportunity just hadn't presented itself yet. Was him checking that deeply into her Facebook page—the most likely candidate for the source of his information—creepy or sweet?

  One thing was certain, it did suggest that their single night together had maybe meant more to him than she’d assumed. The thought made her simultaneously want to squeal with joy and run away.

  Instead, she fiddled with her coat and boots. She’d already worn her light, waterproof pants over long johns at breakfast, although she’d considered wearing something heftier after snow had greeted her the day before. But it was spring. And she'd really be dying while hiking if she'd worn her heavier snow pants.

  Nicolas glanced at her. “You certainly learned to dress better for the mountains, I'll give you that.”

  She looked away so he wouldn't see her blush at the compliment. “Knowing my luck, the snow will melt by noon, and I'll be stripping it all off.”

  Sudden energy arced between them, and he cleared his throat. “Then you’ll really need those boots—mud is far worse than snow.”

  She met his gaze, and he winked at her. He hadn't missed the electricity between them either, but it seemed he was at least attempting to be a professional. She appreciated it, so she smiled back at him.

  “I’ve found myself in quite a bit of mud, thank you very much.” She said, pertly.

  “Have you now?”

  She arched a brow. That silly question wasn't worth dignifying with a response.

  A low laugh. “I guess you don't build a portfolio as a wildlife photographer without encountering some mud,” he conceded.

  “It doesn't really come off. Ever.”

  “Nope. You should have seen my clothes in the old cabin. Having to go to a laundromat every time you want to clean something while living out there…well, mud is a way of life.”

  She shuddered. “What a nightmare.”

  “You have no idea.”

  The ride up to the trail took less than fifteen minutes, and she wasn’t even certain the last ten were on an actual road.

  Just as he'd warned, the trail looked nothing of the sort. Even more dubious than the “road” they’d driven on to get there. But at least the accumulated snow was minimal, and it was a beautiful day. The air was still a bit brisk, but the sky was so blue it looked like something out of the movie or a surreal painting. “Must be something about the elevation…”

  “A little different from the city.”

  She stifled a grin. Only a man who lived out here would consider the small town she'd relocated to after college to be a city. Less than fifty thousand people, and with close access to the wilderness of northern California that she loved to photograph, did not a city make. Then again, given where Nicolas lived, she couldn't fault the term.

  “It's beautiful,” she said.

  “It's home.”

  They started hiking with Nicolas behind her, directing their way. She suggested he lead, but he said he'd rather she set the pace. She couldn't say she didn't appreciate that. Less than a half a mile into their journey—still the easy part—and she was already finding herself a little winded. Sure, she tromped around on the weekends to get pictures, even took camping trips, but that wasn't at well over a mile above sea level. And her hikes were punctuated with long pauses to take lots of pictures.

  “What's our elevation?” she asked.

  “My cabin’s at eight thousand feet. Still got a bit more to go before we find your foxes. Most of it isn’t going up. You’ve probably noticed that getting to their territory is more of a horizontal hike.”

  She suppressed a sigh. It wasn't that she minded the hike—she didn’t care for doing it in front of somebody that was obviously so fit. The man didn't even seem to be breathing hard, and a quick glance over her shoulder proved that not one drop of sweat touched his brow.

  So not fair.

  They hiked in silence for another fifteen minutes, then the rocks he'd mentioned they'd need to climb closed in. Rocks? More like boulders.

  Her breath was already coming fast, her body fighting for oxygen at an elevation she wasn't used to. But something inside of her rebelled at admitting that aloud, even though she didn’t doubt Nicolas would be kind about it. Understanding even. He'd already saved her life once, but that fact seemed to have made him a little overprotective of her. She didn't want to add to his worry.

  Plus, it was embarrassing. The man could sweat a little so she didn’t feel so bad. Jeez.

  “So, what have you been up to the last few years?” she asked, pausing in front of the first section of rocks they’d need to traverse. Hopefully, a tiny bit of conversation, even if a bit winded on her part, would give her a minute or two to catch her breath.

  Nicolas didn't seem in any rush. He leaned against the boulder they’d have to climb, not caring about the dirt that clung to it. “Not much.”

  She huffed. “All the personal stuff you got out of me last night, and that's the best you can give me?”

  “Well, I built the cabin.”

  She raised eyebrow.

  Nonchalant, he shrugged. “I don't know if you remember, but when we met before, I told you I was living out in the middle of nowhere for a reason.”

  “You said that you were dangerous.” He hadn’t exactly offered a lot of information about it, other than that.

  “Might not sound like much, but that's what I’ve been working on.”

  “Your…danger-level?”

  His dark green eyes flashed, seeming to glow for a moment. “Control.”

  Genuinely curious, she asked, “How's that going?”

  He met her gaze head-on, and without even a slight bit of hesitation in his voice, he said, “Good.”

  Damn the man and his penchant for few words. “Is that—the biting thing?”

  His horror at biting her was a big par
t of the reason why she'd run away rather than snuggled closer after their night of amazing sex. He'd said he hadn't meant to bite her, but bite her, he did. She trusted Nicolas the man instinctively. He had a kindness in his eyes, a steadiness to his actions—other than that one moment three years ago when he lost control. But that moment, that painful bite, made her distrust his tiger.

  And how could he separate the tiger from the man?

  “Yes. It wasn’t the first time restraint escaped me.”

  “So you’ve figured it out then? Found that control you were looking for?”

  He nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. “I have.”

  A shiver ran through her. If Nicolas truly controlled of the beast inside of him, then did her worries, her fears, cease to have a basis?

  Thoughts tangled, she turned away from him and started up the first clump of boulders. Climbing slowly, she felt the heat of his body close behind her—only inches away. She was suddenly too hot.

  Her foot slipped, and for half a second, her stomach flew into her throat. Strong arms caught her before she could slide more than a few inches.

  “I got you,” he murmured, low voice close to her ear. The clean, earthy scent of him filled her lungs. His arms wrapped around her middle, grazing the bottom of her breasts. She held her breath and leaned against his hard chest.

  God, it felt good to be in his arms again.

  He caught her easily, she’d fallen barely a foot—none of the places he’d planned to take her had drops more than a few feet. But seeing her slip sent his protective instincts into high gear. And he couldn't help but enjoy the lush, warm body pressed against his. She was soft in all the right places, and her body fit against his perfectly. She smelled sweet. Like some sort of exotic fruit. Without thinking, he sniffed her hair.

  She pulled away abruptly, as far away as she could get with them still pressed against the rock. “I'm good,” she said, voice pitched far too high.

  Before he could reply, she'd scrambled up and over the big rock, moving quickly for someone still adjusting to the elevation. He groaned under his breath. One soft, simple touch, and he was hard as the fucking rocks they had to climb.

  “Have you seen these foxes yourself?” she asked after they had gotten through the worst of the climbing.

  “Yes.” It wasn't a lie. He had seen the foxes—or, more accurately, the fox—many times. The words still tasted wrong on his tongue.

  The rest of the hike was done mostly in silence. He was tempted to tease her, mention that he could smell her desire. But he didn't want to push her too hard. Besides, his focus was on her safety right now. The hike wasn't terribly difficult—there were no life-threatening drop-offs along the way, which is why he'd chosen this place. But it was slippery out. The spring snow the night before had worked against him. And it was too easy for the delicate human to crack her head on a rock. He'd save the teasing for when they were indoors and safe.

  “They should be around here somewhere,” he said once they’d reached a flat, lightly wooded area. The afternoon sun warmed him and had started to thaw the land. They'd be dealing with mud during the hike back to the truck.

  “Awesome. Can we leave most of the stuff here? I'll bring my camera, but I don’t think I’ll need the rest right away.”

  He pulled her pack off his back and set it on some thick shrubbery that would protect it from the mud. She rifled through it until she found the hard case holding her camera then another, smaller case that contained a lens. A few minutes later, she had a rather large piece of equipment around her neck.

  “I'm good,” she said.

  He nodded and headed in the direction where he knew they’d find fox tracks. They moved silently through the brush, but there was no doubt in his mind that the fox already knew they were there. As he expected, tracks littered a few spots of snow. He pointed them out to Evie. “Fox tracks.”

  A wide smile broke out on her face at that, and she snapped a few shots from different angles. “How old do you think these are?”

  “No older than this morning,” he said.

  She nodded eagerly. “We must be close.”

  He didn't contradict her. But they were getting as close as they would for that day.

  His gut wrenched at the thought. She was going to hate him for this.

  No. He wasn't going to think like that. Evie was his—he knew that they were meant to be. And if it meant risking her hatred to win her love, well, it was a risk he had to take.

  He couldn’t live without his mate.

  Chapter Five

  The foxes evaded them the first day, and the second. And the third. But Evie had a good feeling about the fourth. They found more tracks daily, and Nicolas seemed confident she’d get lucky soon.

  She shot him a glance as he bent down to examine fresh tracks. Damn, the man had a nice ass.

  Four days since they’d first come out here, since they’d seen the fox tracks. Yet her enthusiasm didn’t wane. Nicolas was a big part of the reason.

  She shook her head. The last few days had been…fun. Nicolas was a good host, easy to talk to, even with the constant heat between them. The fear she’d had of his tiger faded more each day. They were…getting to know each other.

  Confusing didn’t begin to describe her emotions.

  Nicolas had been irresistible in her memory. But he’d been a ghost—a ghost with a dangerous side that kept her dreams clearly planted in the realm of fantasy.

  Getting to know him for real—beyond the connection her body and heart felt from the moment she met him—had her considering all sorts of things. Crazy things, given the few days she’d spent in his company.

  “These tracks are fresh,” he said.

  She gave him a wide grin, only the knowledge that she’d probably scare away the fox if she yelled keeping her silent. He returned her smile, and the way it lit up his face…damn.

  Fanning herself would be totally uncool, but she was tempted.

  They walked around for another five minutes before she bit back a squeal and grabbed his shoulder. Practically vibrating with excitement, she pointed to a break in the trees in the distance.

  Then she touched her finger to her lips, indicating he should be silent.

  As if he was the loud one.

  A large, white fox peered at them from the trees. It was still quite a distance away, but she could still get some great shots.

  Hands shaking, she reached for the camera hanging around her neck.

  Just as she pointed it toward the fox, the creature took off, bounding into the forest behind it. It was gone before she could get so much as a single shot.

  “Damn,” she whispered under her breath. But then she gave Nicolas a wide grin. “We almost had him.”

  Nicolas smiled, but worry touched his eyes. Maybe he could feel the clock ticking on her time here, too. She hadn’t told him about her weeklong vacation limit, but he was perceptive.

  Sadly, the rest of the day—what was of it—proved fruitless. They’d probably scared off the fox.

  But that didn’t matter—this was going to happen. They’d been so close. She refused to believe the week would pass before she could get some great pictures.

  She couldn’t allow herself to get discouraged.

  She tried to temper her ecstatic mood, but it wasn't working. She hopped out of the shower and dressed quickly. Then she grabbed her cell phone and sent a quick text to Lauren, letting her know she’d finally spotted one of the elusive foxes.

  She hadn't told her friend about Nicolas yet. There was no reason for Lauren to worry. Nicolas owed her some explanations—most notably how he knew about her horseback riding phobia. But she didn't sense danger from him, not even from his tiger. If he'd really gained complete control of that part of him, then he was simply a man who'd saved her life. Okay, a man who'd saved her life who could also turn into a tiger, but hey, everyone had quirks.

  She bounced out of her room and found him parked in front of the stove, somethin
g delicious sizzling away. Her stomach growled.

  “Hungry?” he asked without turning around.

  There was definitely more the tiger thing than just turning into one. The man always heard her coming.

  “Yep.” And once again, he was feeding her, trying to take care of her. She should find it annoying, but it was kind of nice. Something a girl could get used to if she wasn't careful.

  Sure enough, Nicolas had made a delicious dinner. Steak and potatoes and a vegetable medley that tasted so good she suspected it was made with nearly as much butter as vegetables. If the man could bake, too, no woman would be safe.

  Her nerves built as they ate, but she waited until after the food was gone and he'd already filled them both a second glass of wine before for she broached the subject on her mind.

  “I want to ask you something, and you have to promise to be honest with me.” She took a long drink of wine, needing courage. Not so much to ask the questions, but to deal with whatever his answers would be.

  His gaze was steady. “I'll tell you anything you want to know.”

  She cleared her throat. “How did you know I was afraid of horses?”

  “Damn. I wondered if you caught that.” A hint of a smile touched his lips. “I've been keeping track of you over the years.”

  “Why?” Fear crawled up her spine, but she wasn't afraid of him. She was afraid his answer wouldn't be what she hoped. If he said curiosity, she might toss the wine at his head.

  “Because you're my mate,” he said simply, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

  She blinked. “Is that supposed to mean something to me?”

  “Probably not. But it will.” He took the hand she wasn't clutching the wine with in his own, and she let him. His thumb, skin rough from building the home around them, slid against the back of her hand. “It wasn't just one night for me. And I don't think it was for you, either.”

  Her throat was suddenly dry as a desert, and she swallowed a gulp of wine. Her thoughts jumped around in her head. It was the answer she'd been hoping for, yet she couldn't find a response.