Rone’s palm pressed her close until their sides connected, her long johns to his naked skin.
The simple contact ignited a friction between them and she faltered as light filtered through her dilated pupils almost blinded from the shock and sudden burst of light as though she were viewing the world through a shifter’s senses. Wow. Sounds smacked her from all sides as if someone had plugged in a megaphone to a speaker and cranked it too high.
She scrambled for an explanation but came up empty.
What the hell?
Had to be the hooch. Right? But Rone flinched against her and his grip slipped a little. He stumbled but quickly righted himself, and she tightened her hold on the tray, giving him a couple of seconds to right himself before the team effort ate major snow.
Sabine bit back a curse when she nearly spilled a shot glass as her fingers grew stiff. On the outside, everything felt frozen but on the inside, a furnace roared. She took another shot and propped one to Rone’s lips as he guided them down the street, hands full of her and the tray once again.
Loud whistles and cheers moved them forward, and the cold dulled as the liquid gave her a false sense of warmth. Or it could have been the furnace tied to her that beat back the cold.
Either way, they had three strides on Everett, but he and his mate were booking across the cleared path and would be on their tails and fast.
“Shiiiiittttt... faster, Rone, Pick your feet up!” she yelled around a mouthful of silver. Her liver would be a shriveled little pickle after this, but damn it, that blue ribbon would be theirs! The race suddenly became less about a new nursery for her sister and more about winning at all costs. She was too competitive to lose and her sister knew that.
Icy wind cut the corner of a building and forced a harsh gasp from her.
Rone didn’t even flinch.
Doom approached fast and she had a split second to react.
Everett had not lied.
Ice stretched across their half of the road. She threw her one empty hand out and prayed to God she didn’t send them back to the starting line.
As he wobbled left and right, fear skated across Rone’s expression the split second she dared a glance. By a sheer miracle, he held them together long enough for her to find her footing on the other side of the slick black patch. Her stomach insisted on rolling with the punch, but went forward when she leaned sideways. Her mouth watered as the shots threatened to return, and she scrambled forward and nearly pitched the contents of the tray into the cheering crowd.
“Whoops.”
“What’s wrong, little biscuit? Can’t beat a werebear?” She ignored the taunt and earned an evil laugh from her sister’s brother-in-law that carried over the noise of the crowd.
Damn him. Everett took two steps to their one.
“Come on, Rone, move it or lose it!”
His sides rumbled with a deep laughter and fed into her body. When she had a second she’d revisit that sound and think about how it stroked along her nerves and senses in a way that shouldn’t feel as good as it did.
Rone’s strong grip tightened on her side and she fed on his strength. “I got this. Let’s go!”
Faces and storefronts rushed by in a blur. The finish line came into view and she pushed harder.
“Finish the Moon Lust!”
The burn felt so good now, and she didn’t even mind the snow that sloshed around their feet, and they both ignored the cold wetness slapping them in the face.
“Got it.” Miracle three hundred of the day—she managed Rone’s pace and downed her last two one after the other. Oh, damn she would feel that later.
Thundering beat after thundering beat, her heart pounded against bone and air seemed too hard to come by.
Mouth on fire and eyes full of water, the only thing she could really feel was Rone’s hand and the wisp of silk across her midsection as it snapped.
Someone grabbed the now empty tray and replaced it with a warm blanket, and Rone reached between them to loosen the sash around their legs and swung her into his arms in the smoothest move she’d seen since Travolta in Grease.
Warm, possessive lips claimed hers, and a strong burst of citrus flamed across her tongue as she dipped the tip between his lips. His large hand pressed into the back of her head, the other firmly on her rump as he returned the kiss, delving in for his own taste. Instinct had her head tilting to the side and fingers digging into his slightly wet auburn hair.
Warm, masculine and…hers?
She wanted to stay there, tucked between his arms, the cold be damned.
As if a switched was flipped, Rone tensed beneath her touch and his body turned to stone one muscle at a time.
He broke the kiss, his lips less than a breath away from hers. Her glasses slipped but she could see the fire in his eyes. The way they lit from within with something more than euphoria over the win.
Setting her away from him, he bit out, “That shouldn’t have happened.” He tried to work the blanket around her shoulders.
No warm smile or funny jab, no excuse or explanation. Just a cold rejection.
A smiled slipped over her lips as she took it all in. She watched as his expression darkened from one second to the next, and his once bright eyes dulled to an echo of what they had been.
Well, who stole his jar of honey? Feeling stupid and caught up in the excitement, she raised her chin and situated her glasses in place. “Yeah, don’t worry about it, buddy.” She really should have stayed in Houston, told her sister she’d quit school over the phone and stopped being such a freaking pussy.
According to her guidebook, the sun set way before it should and true to the facts, daylight dimmed to an early evening. Lights sprang to life yet the shadows quickly clung to his face.
She patted his chest with a couple of quick taps. “I get that all the time.” She jerked away and put several paces between her and the delicious feel of his heat and body wrapped around her before she managed to make a bigger fool of herself.
Her read on people normally never failed, but with him, boy, she totally missed the target by a mile. She waited as another loud group of people rushed by and scanned each face for something else to focus on besides the brooding man at her back and the odd way it settled in her stomach.
Or it could be the moonshine.
She pushed forward to put some space between them. He had a serious mind case. Hot one second and cold the next. He was right where he needed to be in the frozen lands of Alaska. But right now she had bigger problems. Like finding her sister, her clothes and her ticket outta this little snowglobe of a town. Besides, storming off into the crowd wrapped in a blanket and not a clue where her bags were—or her clothes—didn’t exactly have the full don’t-mess-with-me effect she was going for.
“Look,” he started.
Don’t look back. Don’t look back. The knot in the pit of her stomach she had nursed for the last three days before coming here doubled in size.
“Sabine. I’m sorry.”
Don’t look back.
She totally turned.
Pain radiated out from Rone, and she could see the remorse that riddled his face. Damn it. She rolled her eyes and fidgeted with the blanket, pulling it tighter around her shoulders.
He put a hand on her shoulder. “Come inside to the bar. Adam put your bags in the office.” He jerked his head in the direction behind him.
At least that answered one question. Sounding gruff, he lowered his voice as he guided her to the sidewalk with a hand on her lower back. “You need to get out of your wet clothes and get warmed up. I can’t have you getting sick because of me.”
The shower and dry clothes sounded like a great idea. “No, you look. I’m not the one that grabbed me and kissed me.” She raised her chin with confidence she didn’t quite feel, and that ate at her insides. The man had a way of knocking her off-kilter and that would stop now.
The noise dimmed and heads swiveled her way. Great, now everyone was looking at them. Again.
>
His blazing gaze penetrated hers. “I’ve hurt you.” A ghost of what appeared to be guilt played at the corners before he shut down into an unreadable mask.
“Not even in the slightest, buddy.”
If he had a scowl before, now he looked like she served him up a bowl of lemons and force-fed him each one.
“Forget it.” She moved to turn on her heel, the thick material of her socks caught on the rough cement of the sidewalk. “Coming here was a big mistake.”
“Hey, girlie,” called one of the townsfolk as they shuffled around one person only to bump into the next. Coming in hot, a man flirting with eighty, bright-eyed and hunched forward from age or decades working in the harsh environment, caught her off guard. “I’ve never seen long johns and mistletoe look so good.”
Her brows pinched then she remembered the little decoration on her choice of underwear.
She donned her practiced smile reserved for patients and tucked a little deeper into her cocoon of the blanket. And why she didn’t see the set of ice-white eyes and the man with equally white hair until it was too late.
She fell forward. “Oops, sorry.”
Broad hands reached out to stabilize her but not before she was nose deep in solid muscle that smelled like fresh snow and a hint of something otherworldly. Like old magick—spiced with cinnamon maybe, she couldn’t tell, but definitely sage. Contrary to her profession and medical training, she recognized the smoky tendrils of the herb from her visits with an herbal doctor for a patient that couldn’t afford the crazy prices of prescription drugs for migraines.
Medicine didn’t start and stop with blue pills and white lab coats in her opinion, but that wouldn’t pay the massive student loans and building debts.
“Human.”
She rubbed a flat palm over her forehead. “Last I checked,” she whipped out, tired and cold.
“I meant it as no insult.”
“Right. I’m getting used to that.”
“Show me who has insulted you and I’ll show them how to treat a lady.”
Really. Her brows pinched together so much she feared the deep groove between them would crease into a permanent scowl with how many times these people had her questioning her sanity. He dipped his chin and cast a hooded gaze over her that left Sabine tempted to ask how he planned on becoming her knight in shining armor. In a slow glide of her gaze, Sabine took in the man before her.
He towered well over her five-five frame, fists flexed at his sides like a gladiator ready to swing his sword. In stark contrast to the warmth that came from Rone, this man was stone cold. A solid wall of muscle, she’d give him that, and damn near matched Rone. She was oddly grateful they were not alone. He gave off a weird vibe and looked as if he snuffed people for a living and enjoyed every second of the process. Probably even liked digging the graves too, judging by the way his muscles rippled with every movement.
“Reaper,” Rone called from directly behind her as he wrapped her in his arms. For the moment she didn’t fight it. The hard edge to the white-haired man sent up a red flare, and the knot in her stomach warned of danger.
“Wylde.” Razor sharp and crisp, he sliced out Rone’s name with a chilled, even tone. Then again, nothing this man did probably came remotely close to warm and fuzzy.
“Why don’t you join the rest in the bar while I get Sabine settled?”
After years in an orphanage and guest to a few foster parents that thought kids were better off silent, Sabine knew when to seal her lips and not argue.
“If that is what the lady wants.”
Her eyes darted to Rone then returned to Reaper. What was it with these people and their names?
Tension, as though a past lie between them, stretched in a long silence, but she had to hand it to them—it seemed they were trying to work on being less of an enemy and more friends. At least that was what she picked up from the way no one was shifting and duking it out. There was something definitely between the two, though, and she was the rabbit caught in the middle.
“It is. The human would like a shower, dry clothes, and food. And coffee. Lots of coffee.” And a plane ride back to Fairbanks, but she didn’t add that part. “All in that order.”
People made a wide berth around their spot on the sidewalk. Reaper stood as though he considered his options. Impossibly white eyes flicked between them for a second and then something crossed his expression as though he saw a clearer picture. Man, she wished he would share whatever light bulb moment he had.
“I see now. Wylde. It’s good seeing you again as always.” As if a ghost, the oddly sexy stranger melded with the crowd and disappeared.
Silver dots twinkled across her vision as a veil of darkness threatened to take over all her senses. White snow turned fuzzy and her knees turned to noodles.
“It’s the Moon Lust. Wasn’t exactly made for humans.”
“I’m gonna kill my sister.”
Steel bands wrapped around her middle, and she was staring into the sexiest set of amber eyes before she could protest. With little effort, he had his other arm beneath her legs.
“Wouldn’t want you to pass out in the street naked.”
She pinned him with a hard look as his rigid body flexed under her touch. She ignored the flare of heat in his eyes—or was that a warning—and looped her arms around his neck.
“Bad for business, right,” she clattered out, but her words drowned in the joyous cheers and merriment of the whole town pushing through the doors of the Wylde Fire. Her sister spent the better part of the last year working in the bar as a second job to help her pay for med school. Countless phone calls and late night girl talk began and ended with this place. So much so that she felt she knew the place—and its owner—without even stepping a foot past the wide wooden double doors.
Guilt rushed her head on.
As they entered Rone’s bar, she noticed several tables clustered in the center of the bar and the scent of thick smoke mixed with alcohol wafted over her.
Garland wound around the entire place with tiny white lights, and she couldn’t hold back the smile at such a burly man worrying over holiday decoration.
Opposite the door, a group of girls with pulled back hair and too little clothing for the dead of winter pounded double shooters with red peppers sticking out of the tops. She whipped her head around and the room tipped sideways while her body hit reverse. Her buzz waned and an annoying throb started up between her eyes.
Loud rumbling crunched her midsection, and she splayed a hand across her treacherous stomach to squelch the sounds.
“When is the last time you ate?” he asked softly.
“Don’t know.” Which was the truth. The second her rotation at the hospital ended she’d grabbed a cab for the airport and an hour later Houston’s skyline faded to a dot below her.
“Let’s get you settled.”
Sounded good to her. “Thank you.”
Everett came up beside them and planted a big kiss on her cheek. “Until next year, little sis.”
He retrieved a thick, colorful scarf from a nearby chair and passed it to a woman huddled inside her own cocoon before disappearing under the Wylde Fire’s red and blue sign hanging above the door. Bright fingers of color bled into the rapidly dimming daylight to cast a colorful glow over the unsullied snow.
Her heart softened and she struggled to make sense of the emotions that swelled inside. Sabine knew it was lame to take any kind of comfort from the tender gesture of inclusion into the fold.
She shoved it aside like she did everything else and dealt with what she could control. The here and now.
More and more people flooded by, but Rone cut through the throng with ease and made a beeline around tables butted up against each other, stools dotting every space a chair didn’t occupy, and aimed for a door that had the sign Manager stamped on it in stencil-styled white lettering.
Rone slipped his hand to the small of her back as he eased her to the floor, and though common sense said she shou
ldn’t feel the heat of his touch through the inches of cloth, she did. Her imagination could summon a lot, but not that. It melded through the coarse cotton-wool blend and soothed away the cold that took root deep in her bones.
“Thank you.” She spoke softly as though anything stronger would break the small bubble cast over them as she huddled in her blanket, his back blocking everyone from view.
He smiled gently, an elbow braced above her head on the wooden doorjamb.
“Thanks goes to you, actually. I haven’t had so much fun in... a while,” he added cautiously, his gaze swinging back over the growing crowd before finding hers again.
She brushed a finger over her cheek as she secured the blanket around her shoulders with her other. “I won’t take long and then I’ll be out of your hair.”
His expression softened and the hard edge that had taken hold faded. “Take as long as you like. No one will bother you. Adam put your bags by the back window. You can warm up in the shower and get the smell of the ice bear off and then join us when you’re ready.”
She didn’t know whether to feel insulted or laugh, so she stayed uncharacteristically quiet instead.
He paused before he continued as if considering what to say next. “There are clean towels on the back of the chest in the bathroom. Soap and a variety of shampoos. My sister swears by a few in there so I’m sure you’ll find something. And afterward, we’ll get you something to eat from the kitchen. And maybe you’d like a Wylde Fire to chase away the last of the Alaskan hello from your bones.”
His normally bright eyes swirled with a silvery tinge like he was about to shift…or lose control over his beast? Her knowledge of the shifter world was limited, but she understood enough to know something was different about Rone. He wore a wild energy like she wore perfume.
Chin tilted high, she stared into his eyes, mentally prepared for anything. “Believe me I think I already had a little too much Wylde Fire for one day.”
“Moon Lust is only the tip of Mount Berg.”
He stood so close she couldn’t take a half breath without inhaling everything that made up Rone Wylde and suddenly she wanted to know everything about Mount Berg.
Snowbound With Her Christmas Bear: Wylde Den #4 (Alaskan Den Men Book 16) Page 3
