Unbearable Desire: Lone Pine Pride, Book 4 by Vivi Andrews Read Free Book Online Page A

apologize. No danger in that. They’d keep things civil, businesslike, and then she’d go to the bar and get Whiskey to pour her a nice glass of merlot to celebrate the burying of the hatchet.
    But when Hugo sensed her approach, his head snapped up, his eyes crinkling as if in a smile, and Moira’s heart gave a traitorous thump as he sprang to his feet like a rocket launch. “Moira. I went to the infirmary earlier to see you, but Brandt said you weren’t in today.”
    Moira squelched the little frisson of pleasure at the thought that he’d been looking for her. She really needed to get a hold of her emotions where he was concerned. This was ridiculous. “It’s my day off,” she acknowledged inanely.
    There were two glasses next to the pitcher. Her face flamed. He was waiting for someone. Of course he was. Probably Lucienne. “I won’t bother you long, I just wanted to—”
    “It’s no bother,” he said, still standing beside the table. “Join me. Please.”
    “I couldn’t. I just wanted to apologize. Yesterday—”
    “No, you were right.”
    “I was?” Her heart gave another weird lurch. What was she right about? Why could she suddenly not remember a single word she’d said? All she remembered was the white-hot burn of the anger and the gangrenous ache of the bitterness.
    “Join me?” he asked again, thick eyebrows lifting in entreaty.
    She was blushing again. Why was she blushing again, dang it? “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
    A little smile quirked his mouth, his whiskers twitching. “Friends don’t let friends drink alone.”
    “Aren’t you expecting someone?” She flicked a hand at the second glass.
    His gaze swung to the glass for only a second before locking back on hers. The man gave incredible eye contact. “I think Whiskey gave me the second glass so I wouldn’t look so pathetic back here drinking by myself. Either that or she’s psychic and knew I would be begging you to join me.”
    “I just came over to apologize.”
    “And I will accept your apology if you’ll sit and have a drink with me.”
    She could hardly say no to that. Moira tucked her chin in a tiny nod, trying not to be thrilled by the broad smile that stretched across Hugo’s face. She slid into the booth opposite him, fighting that warning throb of déjà vu as he settled his massive frame back into the corner.
    He poured in silence and she took the cool, tall glass, taking a grateful sip and rolling the yeasty brew over her tongue. She usually gravitated toward wines, but there was something about beer. She’d forgotten how much she liked it.
    “I am sorry about tearing into you like that yesterday,” she said.
    His heavy shoulders lifted in a shrug. “I deserved it.”
    “Well, yes,” she acknowledged with a grin to lighten the words. “But I don’t want to be that woman, carrying that bitterness around inside me.” Another long draught of beer slid smooth and luscious down her throat. “I feel like we never got to know one another properly. We never got past the distraction of our first meeting to become friends.”
    “I don’t think that’s true.”
    “We’re friends?” she challenged, not sure why she felt the urge to push back against him like this. She was usually so good at getting along with people, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself from prodding at this big old bear.
    “I know you,” he stated as if the words were fact. “And I think you know me too.”
    “You know me?” Skepticism coated the words like molasses.
    “I know you know the name of every cub born in this pride since you got here. I know you almost never speak up during pride meetings, but when you do everyone listens. I know you like books and movies that make you cry, and you can’t resist angel food cake though you don’t really like chocolate.”
    She tucked her chin, studying her beer. He’d been paying attention. She didn’t like the weakness that made her feel so foolishly good at the idea that