them for the holidays, and look at what happens. I get myself kidnapped. They’ll never let me leave again.”
He was quick to avert his gaze, his mouth flattening as he turned his profile to her as if that would change what he had done. He pushed off and came to her, and rather than feeling tense that he was near her, she found herself wanting him to sit with her, to tell her more about himself.
He didn’t.
He sank to his knees in front of the fire and tended to it. Holly studied his profile and the feelings her senses could detect in him, reading him like an open book. He felt guilty about his actions, yet he wouldn’t let her go.
Why?
She doubted it was because of the storm and that he didn’t want her freezing out there or getting lost.
Silence fell again as he stoked the fire, as the warm light of it danced across his rough but handsome features, attempting to soften the harsh planes of his face as he glared at it.
When that silence became too comfortable again, she searched for something to say.
He didn’t take his eyes off the fire as he spoke. “Are you so young that you’re not allowed to be away from your family? I’m not sure how cougars work. Are they like other shifters?”
Heat that had nothing to do with the fire scalded her cheeks as she realised he was trying to ask about her age and whether she had matured, was considered an adult now. Most feline shifter species reached maturity at around a century old when biological urges like desire and need awakened.
Together with the ability to breed.
She really didn’t want to answer that question, but as she stared at the fire, avoiding his gaze now as he looked at her, it struck her that he had a point.
She was old enough to go her own way.
To do as she pleased.
She shifted her gaze to meet his, stared into his dark eyes and had the feeling that what she wanted to do was something dangerous.
Something wicked.
His deep brown eyes warmed, gained a shimmer of gold as he looked at her, his pupils slowly dilating. Firelight flickered across the broad expanse of his bare chest, tempting her to trace his hard muscles with her fingers, to know the feel of a male’s body at last.
Apparently, she wasn’t dysfunctional after all because whenever she looked at Saint, the urges she had thought she didn’t possess roared to life, almost overwhelming her.
She pressed the back of her hand to her overheating cheek and stood, struggled to breathe as she muttered, “The fire is a bit hot.”
His gaze tracked her as she moved away from him, towards the far end of the room, fanning herself with her hand as her heart raced.
And her cougar side growled, pacing restlessly, flooding her with a startling urge to turn that snarl on him, to walk right up to him where he knelt on the floor and stand over him, take hold of his jaw and keep his eyes on hers. Holly recognised that urge for what it was—a display of dominance.
Her hands shook, as unsteady as her breathing as that hunger rattled her.
“Holly?” Saint eased onto his feet in a sexy, fluid move that spoke of strength, had his muscles rippling in a symphony that came dangerously close to ripping a feral, possessive growl from her.
She was quick to shake her head, fanned herself more furiously. “I’m fine. Just… stay over there.”
Because she wasn’t sure what she would do if he came any closer to her.
Pouncing on him seemed the most likely outcome.
She breathed through the cacophony of instincts that were intent on ripping her apart, had her unsure of herself, made her feel as if she was looking at a different person. Not chaste, sweet Holly, who felt nothing when a male looked at her, couldn’t even muster the desire to kiss one.
No. This Holly was far removed from that one. This Holly wanted to pounce on Saint and claw him, wanted to dominate him and make him submit to her, revelled and found pleasure in the thought of him doing just that.
“You don’t look well.” Concern shone in his dark eyes as she glanced at him.
“I just need some air.” She looked around her, desperately seeking somewhere she could get that air. “Why do you have so few windows?”
She hurried to the kitchen, couldn’t stop her feet from moving as she stared at the window there,