Bear Their Secret: Wylde Den Three (Alaskan Den Men Book 12) Page 15

  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 doub
le 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 shouldn’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.

  “Believe me, Sabine, you’ll know when you have a Wylde Fire.”

  She didn’t miss the hidden message in the otherwise innocent words. She didn’t need to read his shuttered gaze to know his words went deeper than just the drink he talked about. Though tempted to push his limits and toy a bit with his on-again-off-again antics, she decided against poking the bear and bit her tongue instead of taking the bait he dangled between them.

  The way her name rolled off his tongue made her smile, and she took delight in the small things. As if he made love to the double syllables before letting them fall from his lips.

  Gah, she needed a shower. Now and preferably ice cold. Her blood alcohol level must be hitting sky high. She didn’t know how she wasn’t seeing double of him.

  He leaned across her and flicked the knob and let the door slowly swing open to reveal a softly lit office with a single window on the far wall.

  “What about you? Though the female population probably doesn’t mind its men running around like Tarzan, you have to be cold.”

  He retrieved a key from behind the bar to his left and somewhere out of her line of sight. “I’ll use the one upstairs. See you in a few.” She watched as he turned to go, quickly swallowed by the crowd.

  “Good heavens, that man was walking temptation.”

  Behind closed doors, she stood with her head tilted back and rapped the back of her knuckles across her lips. It had been a quick kiss, but she could still feel the warmth of his lips against hers, the brush of his day-old beard across the smoothness of her chin. His steely attitude afterward would never erase how his lips claimed hers. The man stirred sensations in her she couldn’t ignore, and that was a problem. She had three days here. Long enough to tell her sister she didn’t have to worry about med school payments anymore and short enough not to grow attached to anyone. Keep it simple. That was her rule.

  Keep. It. Simple.

  Her two suitcases and a small single travel bag were where he promised. Parked up against the back wall in the only open space that didn’t harbor one of several brown leather sofas or overly plump chairs that looked like a dream to spend a Sunday in reading the hours away.

  The lock slinked into place with a flick of her wrist, and she immediately went to work on stripping off the wet socks and equally wet long johns. Plush beige carpet covered every inch of flooring, and her bare toes sank into the soft, cushiony threads. Pleasure sent her eyes rolling back and she was very tempted to curl up under her blanket and take a nap right then and there.

  To the left and behind a heavy oak desk, bookshelves lined the expanse of the walls from ceiling to floor with lamps in either corner. Several of the shelves held family pictures, hand carvings of various animals here and there and ribbons or trophies were tucked in like little memories.

  She made her way around the small office that was bigger than her bedroom and kitchen put together back home. In the center of the room a rich brown leather chair hugged a hand-carved desk weighted down by various stacks of papers and a single photo of a smiling woman. Sabine made her way over for a closer look and palmed the heavy silver frame. Soft golden eyes stared back at her, her smile as wide and accented by the trademark dimple she’d discovered all the Wylde siblings she’d met shared.

  She couldn’t help but wonder what made this one picture so special to earn a solitary spot on the desk.

  Metal crashed, and whoops and hollers broke out beyond the locked door. She returned the picture to its place in the center of the desk. From across the room, the faint chirp of her phone sounded. She fished out the cell phone and glanced at the screen, only to cringe as the familiar face of her friend. Dread slinked in until the office slipped behind a shimmering wall of tears. Suddenly her head ached and her mind went back to forty-eight hours previous to her flight here. She plopped down on the leather sofa and cradled her face in her hands, ignoring the call.

  A little red dot flashed on her screen that signaled a message in her inbox.

  Get your head on straight or don’t come back at all. Her supervisor’s last words to her befo
re she clocked out of her six-week rotation plagued her mind.

  Before she could stop herself, she clicked the red dot and the kind voice of her best friend played over the speaker.

  “Hey, lady. Did you tell her yet? Maybe you should reconsider? You know, just don't give up everything overnight.”

  A pause.

  “It wasn’t your fault, Sabi. You tried your best. Even the overseeing doctor said you made the best call. Call me back when you get this.”

  Sabine ended the message and hit delete.

  Her best call, as her friend put it, hadn’t helped, and now a mother of three lost her life because she couldn’t save her in time. The drugs had already seeped into her system by the time they’d got to her. Now, three small children were doomed to live the life she’d experienced as their mother lay in a grave from an overdose.

  Tears welled and slid down Sabine’s cheeks.

  A shower, then dry clothes and maybe a plate of food. A little focus helped the tears dry up. But the sadness in her heart burrowed deeper like an unwanted sickness.

  She gathered her supplies and made her way to the only other door that led to the bathroom. She flicked the switch and instantly realized a pattern with Rone.

  Bright light flooded the small area. Stark white walls with rich coloring in the hand towels lined the top of the chest positioned opposite of the sink. Forest green and royal blue and a hint of gold in the fixtures.

  Everything had a space and place with nothing cluttering the counters except an odd hand-carved bear.

  The blanket pooled around her feet and within a minute, she swayed under the hot streams of water and relished the steam filling the small room as it eased the ache of the cold away.

  Fact: One kiss from Rone was like a thousand shots of Moon Lust, and she wanted more of both.

  (End of sneak peek)

  To continue reading make sure to pick up Snowbound With Her Christmas Bear.

  Talina Writing as Roma Frost Hart