come from his own hands . . . his own heart. It took him longer than he’d anticipated and he was a little breathless when he met Dezi just outside the White Zone, where she’d parked her vehicle.
Dressed in black jeans that hugged her legs, paired with black ankle boots and a V-neck red T-shirt made of a silky-looking fabric, she took his breath away. And that was before she shot him a smile that dazzled. “Are those for me?”
He located a few of his brain cells, worked out how to speak. “Yes.” Wanting to kiss that smile into his own mouth, he passed across the bouquet of sweet pea blooms and Chinese hellebore and blackberry lilies. The blackberry lilies glowed with the colors of sunset, the petals dotted with dark spots like those of a leopard.
Touching a petal, he said, “I was late because I was hunting for this one. I wanted the bouquet to be unique and beautiful . . . like you.”
Desiree’s eyes grew wide, her hand pressing to his jaw as she rose on tiptoe to touch her lips to his in a sweetly tender caress. “No one’s ever given me flowers before.”
Man and wolf both stared. “But you should get flowers every day.”
• • •
Desiree found herself lost for words. Men found her exciting, a little wild, strong . . . but no one had ever looked at her as Felix was doing. As if, along with the strength, she was also the pretty, feminine type of woman due flowers as a matter of course. It wasn’t something she’d ever really thought about before, but she had the feeling she could become addicted to getting flowers from this brown-eyed wolf, and most of all to the way he looked at her when he gave them to her.
As if she was the most wonderful thing he’d ever laid eyes on.
Wanting to kiss him senseless, she brushed her fingertips over the velvet and color of the flowers he’d put together just for her, then satisfied her need by taking his hand. “Come on or we’ll miss our reservations.”
Felix laughed when she brought the car to a stop halfway down the mountain. “Reservations?”
She grinned and went to grab the picnic basket in back, but he’d already seen it, lifting it out with an easy strength that made her want to shape her hands over every taut, muscled inch of his body. Damn, but the man was hot. And sweet and smart and good with his hands to go with it. Was it any wonder she wanted to sigh and pounce on him at the same time?
Touching her fingers to one of the blooms in the bouquet she was leaving safely in the car, she picked up the picnic blanket with a racing heart, tucked her arm into his, and led him to a stunning glade she’d discovered a month before while on a solo run late one night.
Situated beside a small, clear spring that burbled water out over smooth rocks, it was private and lit with the last faint glow of the setting sun as they walked to it, but she’d snuck up here earlier and added solar-powered fairy lights. Those lights flicked on three seconds after they reached the spot, pretty dots of color in the dark.
Felix froze.
Desiree’s skin burned. Shit, who was she to try to be all romantic—but it was too late to take down the lights. Ready to fire back a flippant response if Felix teased her or if he laughed, she heard: “You did this?” It was a rough whisper. “For me?”
His unhidden pleasure was like sunshine in her blood.
“First time ever,” she admitted. “I’m not very good at romantic gestures.” Being one of the boys had always come much easier.
Felix wrapped a careful arm around her waist. “I think you’re really good at it.”
Drawing in his scent, she felt her cat stretch out in a pleasured arch, a purr caught in her throat. “Let’s set up the blanket.” She forced herself to separate from him and flicked out the tartan blanket; her reward was to see him set the basket to the left and lie down on the blanket, his eyes on the fairy lights above.
A shy glance before he raised his hand toward her. Her blood warm and heavy, she came down onto the blanket and—careful to watch for his responses—placed her head on his chest, her fingers spread over the warm strength of him. He didn’t jerk, his arm coming