to take the shape of a bowl rested on the floor next to a huge armchair upholstered in scarlet.
Josie had to resist the urge to turn in a slow circle as if she was in a museum gallery full of colorful art. It would take ages to examine all of the details Knox had created, but the overall effect was of a room bursting with creative energy. And yet, it didn't take itself too seriously, like the art collection that lined her parents' walls. In fact, it was as laid back as Knox himself, all whimsical touches and bright colors.
"You can sleep out here." Knox broke her reverie, gesturing to the chair that was easily the size of the love seat in her apartment. "You should be warm in front of the fire."
"Thank you," she managed to get out, noticing for the first time the narrow, dark hallway next to the kitchen. "It's, um, kind of tight in here. Shouldn't we be worried about that?"
"My bedroom has a door out to the back," Knox said. "I'll use that as long as you're staying here, and you can use the front door. As long as we're not in the kitchen or the bathroom at the same time, it shouldn't be a problem."
"Okay. Yes. Good." Great, she was continuing her eloquent and delightful streak. At least it seemed as though Knox had figured out all the logistics. But how in the hell was she supposed to spend the next two weeks? How she was going to fill her days? Yeah, that was a whole other problem.
Josie had a restless spirit, never one to sit on her ass when she could be out doing something. She was always working on a dozen things at once—the next march, the next protest, the next cause. She woke up every morning full of ideas and plans. In fact, she couldn't remember the last time she'd sat through an entire movie on her couch.
"I really appreciate you letting me stay here," she told Knox. "But I don't want to be a freeloader. Please, put me to work."
As soon as the words were out of her mouth, an image flashed into her mind of Knox standing over her while she dusted the baseboards…both of them naked. What the hell was wrong with her?
Luckily, Knox had gone to the sink to wash his hands, so he couldn't see her face turning red. "If it weren't the middle of winter, I'd take you up on the offer. But there ain't a damned thing to do around here in January. Firewood's already chopped. Cellar's already stocked. Moonshine's already put up. Now the only thing left to do is work our way through it all."
"I truly don't mind," she stammered.
"Sorry, sugar," he said, wiping his hands on a dishtowel. "But winter in the Boundarylands is boring as shit."
He disappeared down the hall, presumably to his bedroom, leaving Josie to catch her breath—and her wits. Okay, then. Two weeks of sitting on her ass in an alpha's remote cabin it was. There were worse things in the world, she reminded herself as she collapsed in the chair that was about to become her bed.
She'd survived police vans and holding cells, and slept on the floor of City Hall and the state capitol. But how she'd survive two weeks in close proximity with this alpha who turned her mind to lustful mush, Josie had no idea.
Chapter Eight
Knox stayed in his room all afternoon, occupying himself with leveling the legs on a washstand he'd been carving from some nice aspen wood. He'd traded some beta for the old marble top years ago, but he'd only occasionally poked at the piece since then, waiting for a time when he needed the distraction of a meticulous task.
And holy shit, did he need a distraction.
What the hell else was he going to think about as he hid from Josie in his own damn bedroom? Better to focus on sanding down these wooden legs than let his mind drift out to the long, beautiful ones curled up in his chair out there. The contrast of her creamy breasts and that red flannel didn't make it any easier to concentrate on his task.
But even with a project to keep his hands busy, there was only so long Knox could stand being cooped up in a single room. Eventually, boredom and hunger drove him back out into the kitchen. Poking his head into the front room, he realized he shouldn't have