Christmas Griffin - Zoe Chant Page 0,14

said. “There’s not much—I wasn’t expecting company.”

“I’ll be out of your hair as soon as possible,” she reassured him. “My phone was out of range. Is yours still dropping? Does the cabin have a landline?”

He shook his head. “Mine’s barely on half a bar out here. And I get the feeling we’re lucky the cabin has a generator. No phone, no internet.”

“Not even for emergencies?”

“I think they expect the people who rent this place to either be self-sufficient or far enough up their own ass to think they are.”

And which are you? The words were on the tip of her tongue, but she held them in. He shot her an amused look, like he’d guessed what she was about to ask.

“Neither of us will be flying anywhere until the blizzard runs its course, anyway.” There was something careful in the way he said neither of us. Blast. She should have just told him the truth—

Except if they were stuck up here together for any length of time, and her family did come looking for her, then they’d meet him. No. Let him think she was a weirdo pretending to be a shifter. What did it matter to her?

Out loud, she said: “Blizzard? I know it was snowing earlier, but…”

She gathered one blanket around herself like a cloak and went to the nearest window. When she peered behind the curtain, the first thing she saw was a whole lotta nothing.

While she was waiting for her pathetic human eyes to adjust, she took advantage of the darkened window’s mirror qualities to watch Hardwick in the kitchen. Which probably wasn’t helping her eyes adjust to the darkness, but, she reasoned, she’d made plenty of mistakes already today. At least this one had some nice rewards.

Like the sight of Hardwick leaning over to grab something out of the freezer.

She bit back a sigh. The man was a tall, rangy creature straight out of a Western, and that was apparently completely her type. His shirt didn’t strain at the seams like the guys her cousins drooled over, but the way he moved spoke of a controlled, contained strength that the usual recipients of Belgrave ogling didn’t possess. Those guys tended to be more open about their muscles. But Hardwick…

Delphine turned her attention back to the world outside, where snow was gusting against the windows so hard, she was amazed she hadn’t noticed it before. Then again, had she really been looking? Had she even really checked if her eyes needed to adjust before spying on her rescuer?

She closed her eyes. You need to get a hold of yourself.

“How long until it blows over?” she asked.

In the reflection, Hardwick shrugged. “Who can say?”

Delphine closed her eyes and rested her forehead against the window.

So, this was the situation. She was stuck in the middle of nowhere, without any way to tell her family where she was or why she was stuck, or of telling how long it would be until she could leave.

That was a lot of withouts. Despite everything, it was the with that worried her the most.

With Hardwick.

With a man who made her body react in ways it hadn’t for anyone before.

And not only her body. Hardwick knew her secret, she was sure of it, but she wasn’t panicking, or planning out ways to make this not a disaster, or trying to convince him that he was wrong and everything was just as she said it was. The idea of Hardwick knowing, of anyone knowing, she wasn’t a shifter should have been devastating. The first crumbling of foundations that could send her whole life falling down.

Instead, it felt… good.

She straightened and shook herself.

It didn’t matter how it felt. What mattered was getting through the next few days and coming up with a good story for her family. Not being able to fly during a blizzard—that was a good start.

And she wasn’t Hardwick’s mate.

That was good, too. It meant that as soon as the blizzard was over and she could go back into town, she could leave his discovery of the truth behind her.

It wouldn’t matter that he knew her secret, because they weren’t going to be a part of each other’s lives.

Chapter Eight

Hardwick

Every breath was agony.

The frozen pizza had been the last thing Hardwick wanted to serve a woman like Delphine, but it was all he had that could be cooked quickly enough. Her head was drooping before she’d finished eating.

He’d given her the bed. What a mistake that had been. Now he was lying