Tags:
Romance,
Paranormal,
Christmas,
holiday,
alpha male,
Werewolves,
Russia,
shapeshifter,
esp,
lycans,
siberia
the
village playboy. How could you kiss me like that and then snuggle
with another woman?”
Slava was at a total loss. “What other
woman?”
“The one by the fire pit, just now,”
Maggie yelled throwing up her hands. She rose from the log and
turned away from him. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. It
was just a kiss, right? You must think I’m stupid.”
Slava walked forward and wrapped his
arms around her from behind. He nuzzled her hair before speaking
softly in her ear. “That woman is my sister, Fanya, and yes, I did
snuggle with her. She was cold, and I love her.”
Maggie turned, looking into his eyes
and opened her mouth to speak.
“Wait, don’t say
anything.” Slava laid his finger against her lips. “Our kiss meant
everything to me. It’s all I’ve been thinking about. You are all I’ve been
thinking about and about how you walked away from me without
looking back. So, I guess I could ask you the same question. Didn’t
our kiss mean anything to you?”
Maggie gasped. “I thought you would
follow me inside. I didn’t know you had left until I went
upstairs.”
Slava couldn’t stop himself. Right or
wrong, he wanted this woman. She enflamed him, made him want things
he’d thought were lost forever. Things like peace, family. He
needed to taste her again, without interruption this time. He
swooped in, taking her lips and demanding entrance.
Maggie moaned and opened her mouth to
his invading tongue. He took and tasted. His wolf rose to the
surface, wanting to possess and claim her. She responded by pulling
his head closer, her hands wrapped in his hair, her tongue dueling
with his for control. Her scent deepened with her rising
need.
“Maggie? Maggie where are you? The
Yule log is about to go on the fire,” Violet called from the
path.
Slava only had seconds before the
Alpha female would come upon them. Until the mating bond came into
play, he needed to keep their attraction private. He couldn’t take
the chance of Dmitry assigning someone else to watch over Maggie.
He pulled back and stared into Maggie’s eyes. “This isn’t
over.”
She nodded, and Slava ducked into the
woods off the trail.
Maggie ran her hand over her face and
started back toward the gathering as Violet walked into the
clearing.
“There you are, come on we have to
hurry.”
Maggie obediently followed Violet back
to the gathering and watched as the Yule log and all of the
village’s wishes started to burn. Would the smoke really carry the
wishes up to the divine?
She looked across the fire. Slava
stood next to his sister. Their eyes met, and her heart
somersaulted as she remembered the wish she’d added to the
log.
Someone began to sing in Russian, and
soon others began to join in. Andrei walked up to hand Slava a
guitar. Maggie could see him try to refuse to play. But Fanya
leaned forward and spoke to him, and he took the instrument.
Another man walked up to join the group, carrying a different
instrument in his hands.
“What’s that guitar-like instrument?”
Maggie motioned to the man next to Slava.
“Oh, that is the traditional Russian
balalaika. Mikhail is very talented. He’s gone on tour all over the
world.”
After a moment, their music filled the
air. Maggie lowered herself onto a log next to the fire and
listened intently. Slava’s hands coaxed his guitar to give its all,
and Maggie had a hard time not thinking about those hands playing
her.
Chapter Eight
“Slava? Are you home?” Fanya called
from the front room. “Why is it so cold in here? Slava get up.
Violet wants you to take Maggie to the village like you
promised.”
Slava groaned and rolled out of bed.
He had been staring at the ceiling all night, thinking about the
American. Did he want the heartmate bond to appear for them? What
about his mother, who had slipped into a coma and passed away
because his father died in the mine. Did he want to be tied to
someone like that? Moreover, did he want to force that
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