Until then…
With a groan, he allowed himself one last lingering kiss, savoring the taste of coffee and sweet female temptation.
“Mm.” He reluctantly lifted his head, his fingers brushing through her tangled curls. Very, very soon he intended to have her straddling his naked body, those curls brushing his chest as he pumped deep into her. Another groan was wrenched from his throat. Damn. He had to put a leash on his fantasies, or they’d never get out of the motel room. “Unfortunately, we’ll have to continue this later,” he said.
She took a hasty sip of coffee, pretending her heart wasn’t racing, and her body wasn’t heating with desire.
“I haven’t agreed to continue anything,” she warned.
His wolf growled deep inside his chest. The animal didn’t comprehend her stubborn refusal to admit what was obvious to him.
Hell, his human half didn’t fully comprehend.
“You will,” he said, refusing to accept any other outcome.
She rolled her eyes, her lips twitching. “Arrogant ass.”
“Wolf,” he corrected. “Arrogant wolf.”
“Same thing,” she teased.
Rare happiness surged through him at the mere sight of the shimmer in her hazel eyes. Damn. Somehow, the need to ensure that this female was not only safe but also pleased in his company was rapidly becoming the purpose of his existence.
Which meant the sooner he finished his duty to his people, the sooner they could concentrate on each other.
“Not even close,” he assured her with a smile. Then, rising to his feet, he pointed at the bagel. “Eat.”
Obviously hungry, she dug into her breakfast, finishing the bagel and coffee before she headed into the bathroom for a shower.
Sinclair forced himself to concentrate on cleaning the room, even taking her old clothing to the incinerator at the back of the motel. He wanted to make certain that they didn’t leave any evidence of their brief stay.
Plus, if he didn’t keep himself occupied, there was nothing that was going to stop him from joining Mira beneath the hot spray of water.
Twenty minutes later, she came out of the bathroom. She was wearing the gray sweats that had been left by the grizzly the night before, and her hair had been tugged into a tight braid.
She looked like the young farm girl, who had no doubt arrived in Fort Collins with wide eyes and a belief she was going to do great things.
“Do you think the SAU has stopped looking for me?” she asked, pulling on her shoes.
“No. Which is why you’re going to my lair,” he informed her, crossing toward the door. “They won’t be able to find you there.”
Expecting her to join him, Sinclair frowned as she planted her fists on her hips.
“What did you say?” she demanded.
“You heard me.”
“Fine.” She moved, but not toward the door. Instead, she crossed toward the desk and began pulling open drawers.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m looking for a telephone book.”
“Why?”
“I’m calling for a taxi.”
Sinclair sucked in a startled breath. “Have you lost your mind?”
She glared at him, the soft, teasing woman who’d gone into the shower suddenly replaced with a stubborn, steely-eyed female who looked ready to sock him in the jaw.
“Obviously, I have, or I would never have shared a bed with you.”
He resisted the urge to point out that she’d shared a hell of a lot more than just a bed. He was pretty sure it would only piss her off.
Instead, he held up his hands, his expression softening. “Mira-”
“Don’t you dare patronize me,” she snapped, pulling a mangled phonebook out of the middle drawer.
He stepped forward. She was serious. She was actually going to call for a taxi.
“I’m trying to protect you,” he said, not bothering to disguise his frustration.
“If I want your protection, I’ll ask for it.”
Sinclair trembled, battling against his instinct to toss her over his shoulder and carry her to his lair.
He could be Alpha to his people. They understood their hierarchy within the Pack. But a mate fell into a completely different category.
He couldn’t order her to obey.
Dammit.
“What do you want from me?” he rasped.
She held his narrowed glare. “Respect.”
Sinclair flinched. What was she talking about? He’d always deeply admired her. Even he’d been denying his deepening interest in her as a female, he’d always held her in the highest esteem.
“Of course, I respect you,” he snapped, his voice edged with outrage.
She tilted her chin. “Then stop treating me like some helpless damsel in distress.”
His lips flattened, his hands clenching at his side. “This isn’t a game, Mira. These people will kill you.”
“It’s never been a game,” she reminded him. “I’ve understood from the beginning this would be dangerous. That didn’t stop me.”
She was right, of course. From the night he’d first approached her, he’d put her in danger.
“I should have stopped it,” he said.
Buried and Shadowed (Branded Packs #3)
Alexandra Ivy & Carrie Ann Ryan's books
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