She heard the stunned joy in his voice, felt her heart clench. “They love you.” Just like me.
“Yeah.” Shaking his head, he got out and jogged around to open her door. “I’d have torn into them for spending time on this when we’re so close to war, but Drew tells me the project boosted morale back to normal levels, so . . .” He pulled her from her seat. “This is ours,” he said, leaning down to rub his nose against hers. “The area’s off-limits to the pack when either of us is in the vicinity.”
Sienna stood on tiptoe, her hands on his shoulders. “Just us?”
The bright slash of his smile echoed her own. “Just us.”
It was an incredible gift. She loved SnowDancer with every beat of her heart, would die to protect the people who’d become her own, but being able to be truly alone with Hawke for even a few hours, a few minutes—she had no words for the force of her joy. “Let’s go explore.”
Laughing, he followed at her heels as she ran up the two small steps and crossed the porch to push open the door, flick the manual light switch. “Oh, it’s wonderful,” she said as the cabin was bathed in a soft glow. The entire place was a single large room, except for an alcove at the back fitted with a wooden sliding door.
There was a kitchenette off to the left, with a table and two chairs tucked in neatly under the window. To the right was a fireplace set with an eco-friendly laz-fire, in front of which lay a fluffy white rug Sienna could already feel plush and decadent against her skin. The rest of the available space was dominated by a huge bed with a wrought-iron headboard. Her eyes widened.
“Hawke,” she said, “why are there fur-lined handcuffs hanging from the headboard?” Stepping closer, she saw—“They’re too big for my wrists.” Oh.
Hawke made a growling sound low in his throat. “Probably Drew’s idea of a joke.”
“No,” Sienna murmured. “Drew told me to never, ever talk to him about sex. As far as he’s concerned, I’ll be a virgin until I’m a hundred, same as Brenna.”
Unhooking the cuffs, Hawke brought them to his nose. Sniffed. “Son of a bitch.” His grin was half-amused, half-feral.
“Who?”
“Figure it out. Who do you think is sitting at home laughing his ass off at the dance you’ve led me?”
Sienna paused, considered all the people who cared about Hawke and who’d dare pull a prank like this. “Lucas,” she said. “It was Lucas.”
“Damn cat must’ve snuck in here after the crew left.” He fiddled with one cuff, smiled as it made a snick of sound. “What do you know—they tighten up fine for smaller wrists.”
She didn’t trust that look. “Hawke.”
“Come here.” A command, for all that his voice was soft, his eyes hooded.
She swallowed, took a step back. “Um . . . perhaps . . .”
“Scared, Sienna?” Thick, silver-gold lashes lifted to reveal those impossible eyes, the eyes of a husky or a bird of prey.
“No.” It wasn’t fear that caused her heart to beat a staccato drumbeat against her ribs, her blood to turn molten.
Hawke smiled . . . and she realized he was stalking her in slow, steady steps. Twisting, she saw she was about to back herself into a corner. She jerked left, expecting him to stop her. When he didn’t, suspicion licked through her veins. “I’m glad you’re going to be reasonable about this,” she said, never moving her eyes off him.
“I like your hair.” That wild gaze stroked over her. “Put it down for me.”
“I don’t think that’d be a good idea.” It was instinct to disobey him, to challenge him.
“I disagree.”
Her hair tumbled around her shoulders before she so much as sensed him shift position. He was crouched on the bed, on the other side of the room by the time she realized what he’d done. A very satisfied, very male smile flirted with his lips.
Playing with her, she thought, he was playing with her.
And tonight, there was no leash on the wolf.
“You think you’re so smart,” she said, inching to her left again as he reached back to pull off his T-shirt with masculine roughness. The door was only a few steps away.
T-shirt on the floor, he angled his head in a way that sent his hair sliding over one side of his face. “I think you should take off your top.”
“Try it and I’ll—” She shot up a column of cold fire between them, making him come to a skidding halt, his nose a bare millimeter from the flame.
He bared his teeth. She grinned . . . and took off, slamming the door shut behind herself as she dropped the wall of flickering red and gold. Something crashed hard on the wood as her feet hit the earth and her instinct was to turn around, check he was okay. But that wasn’t the game. And she was nowhere near wolf-fast. He was breathing down her neck in seconds.
But she was an X. A cardinal.