system, the flames of her desire burned. She was tempted to turn her hand and let him stroke her palm, to fan that fire which longed to burn out of control.
“OK,” she said weakly
“You are in expert hands,” he said. “You’re mine now.”
“And if I want to leave?” she asked quietly.
His expression softened and he almost purred as he said, “Oh, honey, once you know what a good man you have as a mate, you will never want to leave.”
Chapter Thirteen – Trent
Did that sound too cocksure? He meant it; he was going to make sure that when she eventually wound up in his bed, and she would, make no mistake, she would never want to leave. Or so he hoped. Because he wanted her in his life forever. All the other women, like Pamela and Carol, were nothing compared to her. His heart and soul belonged to her. It was as if she had him on a leash.
He got up from the table and waited for her to put her coat on. Then he followed her out of the bar, guiding her to the entrance with his hand, which barely touched the small of her back. And yet fire shot through him, his veins pumping hot blood around his body, waking up his bear. Soon , he told it, soon .
The cold hit them as soon as she pushed the door open. Not the chill brought on by a biting mountain wind. This cold penetrated your bones and pushed through into your subconscious, to scrape its brittle cold fingers against your mind. A cold that made your blood stop mid-flow, leading to a fatigue which begged you to lie down in the snow for one long minute. A minute that would stretch to eternity.
“Let’s not hang around here too long,” Trent said, ignoring any protests she might have and wrapping his arms around her. “Once you change, the cold won’t bother you.”
“Really? Because I have trouble believing that I will ever feel warm again.” She burrowed into his warmth, and he had to admit he liked the idea of prolonging their stay out in the cold, just so that they could stay like this. Maybe when they went back to their rooms, she would be so cold, he could offer to warm her up, bare skin against bare skin.
He put his sensible head back on; he needed to concentrate, to make this as easy as possible for Willow. “Wait until you change into your panther. Then you’ll be warmer.”
“I’ll take your word for that,” she said, her teeth chattering now as the cold took hold.
He moved faster through the streets; luckily, they had been cleared after the snowfall, and with the addition of grit, there was no danger of slipping. Turning quickly to the left, he took her down a narrow alleyway. When they emerged on the other side, they were opposite the edge of a small wood, which led up onto the mountain.
It was here he took her, the temperature perhaps a few degrees warmer under the shelter of the high branches. As they walked, each time they brushed against a tree, a sprinkling of snow would fall, giving the night a magical quality. Dreamlike , that was how he would describe it. He turned to look at Willow. His dream had come true, and he wanted his fairy-tale ending.
Damn, he sounded like a sap. “Here,” he said in his deep voice. All male: no fairy tales here, no nonsense either. This was his future wife, and she needed his help to accomplish the thing she was born to do. Change into her animal. In the hope that, by making her complete, she might finally understand the bond between them and stop fighting it.
“You’re sure about this?”
“Absolutely. Now first, I am going to change. Watch how I do it and then, when it’s your turn, I’ll talk you through it. OK?” he asked, noting the paleness of her skin. He had never seen anyone so scared before.
“What if I lose control?”
“You won’t. Before you change I’ll tell you how to come back to yourself.”
“OK,” she nodded.
“Ready?” he asked.
She nodded once, and he decided that he would be quick, to stop her having time to change her mind. He pictured his bear, and
Debby Herbenick, Vanessa Schick