Bite of the Moon: Paranormal Shapeshifter Romance Boxed Set (44 page)

“Oh!” She rubbed her arm. “I got the chills when you said ‘bear.’ That’s the theme of the day, isn’t it? Bear. I can’t seem to escape it.”

“You might. We’ll see.”

“I’m sorry, what did you say? I didn’t hear that last part.”

“I’m just muttering.” Picking up the teapot, he poured the pale green concoction into two mugs and brought one to her.

She held the heavy earthenware mug below her nose. “Lovely. I can smell the chamomile.” A brief sip revealed a complex grassy flavor. “You’ve been an amazing host.” Tucking her feet beneath her, she shifted on the couch. An interesting art print of a castle in ruins caught her eye. “What’s that picture on the wall? Where is that? Something about it looks familiar.”

“That’s a popular art print from Victorian times. It’s part of the Highland pride revival.” He stood near the couch, sipping his tea. “The subject is Tor MacBrun. It served as a medieval armory and stronghold. The artist is Joseph McMahon. To be fair, the painting is pure flattery. I’ve been there. The sun never made an appearance and the ‘castle’ is little more than a crumbling maze of walls without a roof. But the structure’s lack of grandeur is irrelevant compared to the sacredness of the land. The place is heavily enchanted or haunted, so they say. It’s the place the MacBrun clan came into being.”

“Did you enjoy your trip to the Highlands?”

He dipped his chin and looked away. “Not especially. A bit of an eye-opening disappointment, if you must know.”

“Why? All that history. I would have been enthralled.”

“Too much history. I went with high expectations, but returned home empty-handed. In the end, I found nothing there for me.”

“I’d love to go. Scotland is a place I’m deeply attracted to. At least in theory. I travel a lot, but for some reason, I’m never sent there for work. Five-Star currently doesn’t own any properties outside London. If I had my way, that would change.”

“You’ve got a lot of ambition, don’t you?”

“Is that a bad thing? Sometimes I think it is. My mother used to say I was as driven as a long-haul trucker.”

“No father in your life?”

“None I ever met. He became a sore topic with my mother.”

An intense sparkle lit his eyes. “No brothers or sisters?”

“No to that as well.”

“So, technically, you’re an orphan?”

“I never thought of it that way, but yes, I suppose I am. I’m an orphan, but I ain’t no waif.” She tilted the mug and drank a gulp of fragrant tea.

Chapter Four

Another wave of guilt slammed into Mac. What had he done? This lovely woman, who would make a perfect mate, would soon piece together that she’d been deliberately bitten by a very horny bear and then slowly seduced and lied to until the bite took effect. Any hope of winning her over with her freewill intact was running out. Once she realized what he’d done, she’d hate him and want to flee as far from him as possible. The key now would be to put some space between them and keep it there.

They exchanged quiet glances. Staring at the peaches-and-cream glow to her skin, he asked himself if she had gotten prettier or if he’d fallen deeper under the mating thrall. At this point, he couldn’t tell and it probably didn’t matter. The urge to tangle his hands in her flowing hair and kiss her luscious mouth grew stronger. To be safe, he moved his chair back another arm’s length.

She seemed to sense his discomfort, and still holding the mug of tea, she rose from the seat. With aimless movements, she circled the cabin, stopping in front of the art print to study it. “Do the MacBruns still own this land?”

“Yes, why do you ask?”

“Just a little brainstorm firing in my head.”

“What were you thinking?”

“For starters, what a great setting. Look at the stunning panorama of the moor. I wouldn’t touch the ruins—”

“They wouldn’t let you.”

“I guessed that much. But there must be available land nearby, within sight of the castle. Wouldn’t it be fun to build a functioning reproduction of Tor MacBrun and run it like an historical destination? Offer modern amenities, like heated floors and plumbing. There’s no need to go overboard and get too medieval. Tourists will insist on Wi-Fi and phone chargers, but mostly I’d make it an off-the-grid experience. No cars allowed on the immediate property, horses and lorries only. A blacksmith’s hut. Battle reenactments—for fun. Wedding parties could be booked there. Arrange mock bridal kidnappings, with the bride’s full consent, of course. Grooms in kilts. Hell, you could earn back the initial investment from rental fees on a gothic wedding chapel and a photogenic dining hall alone. Who wouldn’t want some handsome wedding photos taken on horseback with a castle in the background? This one is a no-brainer. The biggest problem would be all those good-looking men in kilts. The bridesmaids would never go home. They’d want to go kilt chasing and grab a husband for themselves.”

“Based on a single art print, you’ve put my ancestors’ land into redevelopment and married off the locals?”

“That’s how my mind works. Is it crass? I’m just daydreaming.”

“It’s good to dream. There’s nothing wrong with that.” The thought clicked that he wasn’t the only MacBrun male to walk away from a gathering without a mate. Far from it. In fact, enforced bachelorhood had become the bane of his generation. “You keep mentioning brides and grooms. Are all the Five-Star properties geared to the wedding industry?”

“I didn’t even realize until you said it, but Five-Star is focused purely on hospitality. They have no real presence in the wedding industry. This idea would probably sound risky to them. If it happened, I’d have to make the proposal on my own. But, there is no way I could raise that sort of capital, so forget it.”

“Andi, if I contacted some relations of mine, would you like the opportunity to pitch your idea? They have funds to invest. No guarantees, but I’m almost certain they would give you a fair listen.”

She beamed. “You honestly think it’s a good idea?”

“I do, for a number of reasons.” The MacBruns had been steadily dwindling in number. In the modern world, there was no polite way to say to a woman, “May I bite you and turn you into a she-bear?” Ancient clan rules prevented any sort of casual exposure to outsiders. But if adventurous women voluntarily entered MacBrun territory and saw the MacBrun men at their best doing what they’d been bred for, riding horseback, working a forge, wielding a claymore, then nature might take its course.

“Mac, if you could introduce me to the right people to make a pitch to, I would be so grateful.” She lifted her mug of tea in a toast. “To a possible partnership.”

He tilted his raised mug toward her. “I’ll drink to that.”

“How soon can you contact your relatives?”

No way in hell did he expect to introduce voluptuous Andi to his heartsick male family members before the bite wore off and he had a chance to gauge if Andi had any real interest in him. “My goodness, you move fast. I’m not sure. The first month or so of spring thaw brings a crowd to Sierra Portal. I’ll be too busy. It would have to be early summer.”

She sighed. “You’re right. I won’t pressure you.” Setting the mug down on the counter, she glanced out the window. “Pretty moon tonight.”

“We call a skinny crescent like that a bear-claw moon.”

“Really? Who does?”

“The MacBruns. Brun means bear.”

“I knew that, but I didn’t make the conscious connection. See? It’s another synchronicity. Somebody once told me Brunell means brown bear in Gaelic. Isn’t that funny? Do you think the bear that rescued me today is my guardian angel? Maybe my mother sent the bear?”

“Who knows? Life is full of mysteries.” Tonight’s biggest mystery remained how he could resist scooping Andi into his arms and carrying her to his bed. He wanted to kiss her lips until desire made her soft in his arms, and caress every inch of her satiny skin. She was perfect for him. His bear had chosen well. But she was a strong woman. Once she discovered what the bite of the bear fully meant, would she react with rage, feel manipulated, even hate him? Such things had happened to others in the clan. In the past, unwilling she-bears had rebelled, run away, and, most painful of all, fled to another’s bed. He needed her consent and silently hoped there would be no more provocative comments tonight and no further she-bear behavior. If it happened, he was sure to lose his mind.

She wandered toward a doorjamb. “I’ve got one of those devilish little itches between my shoulder blades.” Pressing her back to the frame she rubbed up and down.  “Ah. There it is.” Bending and straightening her knees, she groaned. “Feels great. Is there a tree out back I could scratch against?”

“Andi, don’t!”

“I’m sorry. I’m being weird again, aren’t I?”

He covered his face with his palm and fought the impulse to stare. “I meant, don’t go outside. It’s too dark to walk on a muddy hillside.”

“I just can’t stop making a fool of myself, can I? I wish I knew why I keep doing this nonsense.” She glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall. “Oh well. It’s a quarter to nine,” she mumbled. “Almost your bedtime. Let’s call it a day. I think I should sleep on the couch. You wouldn’t have an extra toothbrush would you?”

“I do have an extra toothbrush, still in its package.”

“I’m going to brush my teeth and stop saying stupid things.”

He got up to fetch the toothbrush. “Can I tell you something?”

Her gaze tracked him across the cabin. “Sure.”

Searching the bathroom medicine cabinet, he found the unopened toothbrush and set it on the edge of the sink. “I’ve loved having your company tonight.”

“Thank you, Mac. You’ve been a great host.”

“I was thinking, if the deal on the Bluebell Motor Lodge goes through, maybe you could visit me this summer?”

She flashed a flirty smile. “It might happen. So could the Tor MacBrun proposal. We might be seeing a lot of each other in the near future.” She walked past him, all the while looking into his eyes, the sparkle of interest in her gaze unmistakable. “Excuse me. I’m going to brush my teeth.” The door shut and the faucet ran.

He moaned. “Now what?”

“Did you say something?” she called out.

“No.” He made himself busy locating two extra blankets in the closet, and tossed them onto the couch and froze. Did he want Andi on his couch when she could be a warm, soft companion in his bed? The image of her tumbling onto his sheets and her silky hair fanning across his pillow filled his mind. It had been so long. His cock rose. “Stop throbbing!” He willed himself to relax.

She turned off the faucet. “Okay, that time I’m pretty sure you said something.”

“I’m all right.” He fished for a rational excuse. “I stubbed my toe.”

“And you ordered your toe to ‘stop throbbing?’ That’s wishful thinking. You’re starting to sound as kooky as me.” She exited the bathroom. Walking a slow circle around his living area, she stopped in front of a bookcase. Tilting her head, she scanned the titles. “You like to read?”

“This is a lonely job. It’s a necessity.”

“There’s a lot of variety here. History, political thrillers, Stephen King—I could not read anything of King’s at bedtime. I’d be awake all night. Wait. What’s this?
A History of Clan MacBrun
.” She reached for the battered leather volume.

He hurried over to stop her. “It’s very old. Don’t open it. The binding might crack.”

“Sorry.” With care, she slid the book back into place. “I hoped to learn a little something about Tor MacBrun.”

Without doubt, she’d learn too much. The book contained a partial registry of bear knights and the women they’d taken as wives.

She headed toward the couch and spread a blanket over the cushions. “You must be exhausted. I suppose I should say goodnight and let you go to bed.”

He gulped a ragged breath. “We should try to get some sleep.”

Arching her back, she stretched her arms above her head and yawned. The deep V of the pajama neckline revealed lots of cleavage. “It’s going to be very hard.”

“What’s going to be hard?” A touch of guilt crept into his voice.

“Hard to sleep.”

“Oh.” He sighed. “But try.”

She rolled her shoulders. “My muscles are so tense. I couldn’t talk you into a back rub, could I?”

Every fiber of his lust-starved body screamed,
Yes.
He fought the impulse to pounce and pin her beneath him on the couch. The impatient bear within growled in protest, wanting him to take decisive action. Feeling conflicted, he didn’t make a move.

Lowering her gaze, she frowned. “You’re right. I can see you’re tired. I shouldn’t have asked. I’m being a nuisance, aren’t I?”

A long night of temptation lay ahead. Having Andi so near would be difficult enough. Hearing her make provocative comments and veiled invitations as his self-control wore paper-thin could be disastrous. At least if she were asleep, he could police himself. What he’d done to her wasn’t fair, and he mustn’t take advantage. For all he knew, under normal circumstances, she might be a reserved person who wouldn’t flirt or make suggestive comments to someone she’d just met. This could be the bite talking, and he had to take ownership of that.

Wrapping a blanket around herself, Andi lay on the couch. “Good-night.”

“Good-night.” Who was he kidding?  Sleep wouldn’t arrive anytime soon. He went into the bathroom to brush his teeth. Squeezing a bit of minty paste onto the bristles, he realized his cock just wouldn’t go down. It pressed hard against the snug fabric of his jeans. He scrubbed his teeth vigorously, creating a mouthful of foam that made him look like a rabid animal. His cock rose higher. “Damn.” The bear warned him, this would be his constant state until he claimed Andi as his mate. He stared at his reflection. The face in the mirror appeared harried and a wee bit wild-eyed. It did not bode well. “This isn’t the twelfth century. We don’t bite strangers and turn them into mates against their will. Got it?”

“Mac, did you say something?” she called.

“I’m just talking to myself.” He turned on the faucet and rinsed the brush. Her hearing had possibly been amplified by the bite. Too bad. That meant he couldn’t risk unsnapping his pants, taking hold of his shaft, and giving himself a few vigorous strokes to take the edge off. In his current mindset, he’d probably grunt like the territorial bull bear he was, or shout her name. How embarrassing would that be?

“Can I ask you a personal question?”

He braced his hands on the sink. “Ask.” His voice cracked.

“Do you think you could fall asleep with a light on?”

“I suppose so.”

“Great. I’d like to stay up a while and read. Maybe a book will help me relax? I’m feeling all wound up.”

“Go ahead.” He gazed at his reflection in the mirror and gave himself a much-needed pep talk.
Andi is an ideal woman. She’s worth the trouble and the wait. Don’t move too fast and blow it. Let her come back to you in one month’s time and see if that sexy spark is still twinkling in her eyes. If not, it wasn’t meant to be.

“I’m sorry to bother you again, but did you say my name? I could swear you said my name.”

“No, sweetheart, I didn’t say anything.” Damn it! Gripping the edge of the sink, he winced. He’d called her sweetheart. It just flew out of his mouth. Now he looked foolish.

“You called me sweetheart and it didn’t sound the least bit sarcastic. I like it.”

“You’re not my sweetheart. I didn’t mean to say it. I don’t want to sound weird.”

“Actually, now you sound rude.”

“Andi, I apologize. I’m not used to company.”

“No one’s called me sweetheart in a long time. I didn’t think it was weird. I thought it was nice. We’ll let it go, okay?”