romance novels.” She looked him over. “You could probably pick up some pointers from them.”
She clammed up, turned awkward as she averted her gaze, and he knew why. She feared he was going to pick her up on the fact she thought he needed pointers when it came to being romantic, and that meant she had been thinking about him in a romantic fashion. It was the only reason she could have for bringing up that he wasn’t acting that way or at least he wasn’t living up to the standards she expected from a romantic hero based on what she had read in books.
“How long were you sleeping before we woke you?” Her voice dropped to a murmur and she glanced at him, the look in her eyes telling him she felt bad about the fact her pride had woken his.
“About a month I think.”
“And you just go to bed one night and wake up in spring?” Her eyes searched his.
“Pretty much.”
“Does sleeping affect you physically? Like do you wake up weaker, skinnier?” A blush stained her cheeks.
His too as her gaze dropped to his body and she slowly raked it over him, a leisurely once-over that set his blood on fire.
He cleared his throat. “Not really. Takes a while to shake off the sleepiness and get my muscles working again, but it doesn’t weaken me and I don’t tend to lose much weight.”
“And you could stay awake if you wanted?” She turned awkward again. “Dumb question. You’re awake right now.”
Gods, was he.
No danger of him nodding off when she was near him.
She looked close to falling asleep on him again though. She blinked rapidly, as if that was going to keep her awake.
“Saint?”
“Hmm?” He drifted in watching her as she tried to fend off sleep, enjoying how close to him she was and that she trusted him enough to let her guard down like this, and how calm he felt—both the bear and the man in him. She opened her mouth and closed it again, glanced away from him, and he sighed. “Whatever is on your mind, you can ask it, Holly.”
Her brow furrowed. “When you grabbed Gabi—”
“I was in a foul mood and not thinking straight,” he interjected. “Archangel had been flying around Black Ridge, had attacked Cougar Creek, and then this human female is there just days after it all happened. What was I meant to make of her? I was on edge, feeling protective of my pride, and things got out of hand. I’m not proud of what I did, or what I said. As soon as I cooled off, I… I should have apologised. I still think she’s a hunter though.”
“She isn’t. Her half-brother was. She didn’t know anything about his involvement with Archangel, was shocked to find out about it and about our kind.”
He shrugged. “I’ll apologise to her just as soon as Rath apologises for waking us and Flint apologises for attempting to remove my balls.”
Her sigh said it all, but it didn’t stop her from muttering, “Testosterone runs a little strong in bears, doesn’t it?”
He frowned at her and grunted, not bothering to deny that. He was territorial, and protective, and his bear was quick to anger and take control, and there was nothing he could do about that. He was the way the gods had made him.
But maybe he could try to change for the better.
If he did, would she want him?
He glared at the fire, seeking the answer there as the war erupted inside him again. Taking her back was the right thing to do, but he feared that if he did, he would never see her again.
She made the decision all the harder as she dozed off, as she slumped against his right arm and snuggled into it.
When he tried to move, sure she would be horrified and angry with him if she woke pressed against him, she unleashed a low, vicious growl.
A possessive and commanding snarl.
One he felt all the way to his soul.
She seized his arm and he could only sit there, stunned as she rubbed her face against his muscles.
As if she was marking him.
He was one hundred and ten percent certain no one had ever scent marked him before. He had no right to enjoy it as much as he found he did, knew he should stop her but couldn’t bring himself to do it as a thought formed.
Maybe he wasn’t the only one feeling something.
Saint made his decision as he gazed at her,