Series: Lee Savino
Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 63295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
My heart does a double-pump. She’s planning a future for us. Except…I’m not safe for her. Not long-term. My bear is already too volatile being around her.
“Maybe.” I hate to sound so ambivalent, but I vowed not to return to my home. It’s too dangerous. Out in the wild, my bear is stronger. He might take control and not give it back.
Her face shutters. She finishes her food and takes her bowl to the sink to rinse it. “Well, let’s focus on getting Wren away from Thom. After that, who knows? We’ll have to go into hiding.”
I can’t ignore the grim determination in her voice and, beneath it, the thread of despair. I go to her and stand at her back, reaching around her to put the pot in the sink. I help her finish the washing then brace my hands against the counter, caging her in. “It’s going to be okay,” I murmur into her ear.
“How do you know?”
“I’m going to keep you safe.” I stroke back her hair, baring her neck. The scent of orchids rises from her skin, and my mouth waters.
Claim her.
The instinct rocks through me with more conviction this time. I tighten my grip on the counter to keep from pulling her close. It’s not just my bear wrestling for control. It feels more like all of me.
Like Paloma really is my fated mate.
Damn.
It must be true.
That explains why I just risked losing my entire company and everything I fought so hard to win on Wall Street to save her. But it doesn’t change anything.
I can’t claim a human. My bear is too wild. I’ve never even allowed myself a relationship, in case I lose control.
The most I can have is this moment of closeness, sharing my body heat and comfort with this incredible woman. Paloma leans back into me. Her head doesn’t come up to my chin. I close my arms around her, savoring the feel of her in my arms.
“I wish…”
“What do you wish?”
Instead of answering, she grips the counter and lets out a little moan. She sags against me.
I turn her to face me. Her eyes are glassy. “Paloma?”
“I don’t feel so good–” Her eyes roll up, and she slumps.
“Paloma!” I carry her to the couch and lay her out. She’s unconscious, her arm limp when I lift it and let it fall. I feel for her pulse, and it flutters against my fingers.
She told me she was sick and needed medicine to forestall her collapse. I thought we’d have more time.
I need to get her to a doctor, one I trust.
And there’s only one person on earth that fits that description.
I pull out my phone and dial Sully. “I need another favor. It’s an emergency.” I explain my plan while getting Paloma into the car, and Sully promises to make arrangements.
“Hang on, princess.” I strap her in and kiss her forehead. Her skin has turned clammy to the touch.
I’ll break all speed records getting us to the tiny airstrip where Sully will have a private jet waiting. From there, it’ll be a direct flight to New Mexico.
There’s just one call left to make.
“Darius? Is that you, brother?”
“Matthias.” I brace myself for his anger, but he only sounds curious. “I need your help. I’m bringing someone to you. A human. She needs medical attention. She’s…important to me.”
There’s a pause. It’s probably only seconds long, but it feels like years. I watch Paloma’s chest rise and fall with labored breaths.
Finally Matthias says, “Does that mean…”
I’m breaking my self-imposed exile and going back to where I vowed I’d never return.
Back to Bad Bear Mountain.
“Yes, brother. I’m coming home.”
Chapter Eight
Paloma
A tapping sound wakes me. I crack my eyes open and squint against the brightness. The blurred shapes sharpen and become a set of green curtains framing a window filled with cheerful sunlight.
There’s a faint pain in my head, and my chest aches, but other than that, I feel okay. I move my limbs and everything seems to be working.
I sit up. I’m in a big bed that fills a tiny room. The walls are brown logs, and the floor is made of rough hewn pine wood planks stained a honey brown. I push back the heavy plaid blanket covering me and notice the green sheet set matches the curtains, the fabric patterned with tiny brown bears.
The only other furniture is a small bedside table and lamp, and there’s also an IV with a bag full of clear liquid. A small bandage in the crook of my right elbow tells me that someone put a needle in me at one point.
There’s no sign of Darius or anyone else. I’m in a log cabin that smells of pine and smoke, and someone’s been playing doctor.
I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m going to escape. Voices murmur behind the big closed door, so I swing my feet off the bed in the direction of the window.