Read Online Bear His Bond: Wylde Den Two (Alaskan Den Men Book 9) by Talina Perkins - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Talina Perkins
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swayed but held a hand up for her to leave him be.
Stubborn to the core. She fought to contain her frustration and the need to scream. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d stomped her feet, but the man made her feet itch to do some pounding.
“You wanna talk about tying down and using scarves? You even touch that door handle, woman, and I’ll have you wrapped around me so damn tight you won’t know where you end and I begin from now to the end of time, if it will keep you safe.”
Her mouth fell open. “And that’s the only reason, right? To keep me safe. Gotta keep your Boy Scout badges well-polished and shiny.”
She had a sinking feeling about the small confession, limited as it may be. Hope surfaced, but it only meant she fell for him a little harder despite wanting to clamp a hand over her ears in denial. Freaking werebear, always tying her in knots.
He slammed a fist down on the dining room table where she stood organizing the gear she needed for the tests. He moved fast for an injured man. She’d do good to remember that. “Dammit, Pepper, look at me.”
Anger made her movements jerky, but she turned to him. Big fat freaking mistake. Her heart lurched in her chest and did a freaking nosedive to the pit of her stomach without stopping so she could catch her breath.
He stalked forward, able to put a little more pressure on his leg than he had when they first walked in the door.
He palmed her face and angled her head to where all she saw was his searing gaze.
“It’s because you’re my mate. And if you go out that door and get hurt I’ll fucking kill someone or something. Then probably fucking die in the process.”
His Mate? Oh .
Eyes wide, her mouth worked but nothing came out. That was a first. Was that a confession of love? A proposal of marriage, as he’d put it? What did she do? What did he want her to say?
Tears burned the back of her eyes, but she fought to keep the well of hope in her heart locked away in case it was only a ruse to keep her here, close to him so he didn’t have a dead tourist muddying up his clean record with Wylde Excursions.
She knew better. She could lie to herself all she wanted, but the man meant every word he uttered. The kind of pain coloring his words was the kind a man buried. A pain that came from deep within, a place he never shared with anyone. She knew because the truth stared back at her. His eyes glowed with that now familiar golden ethereal light, but unlike other times fear mixed in those depths and silently pleaded with her to understand.
“Stay here.” She turned aside and it tore her apart to move that small fraction away from him. She clipped her pistol to her belt, gathered her gear and the case of vials in one hand, and tossed a water bottle his way to land on the couch with the other she tried to force down him to no avail. “You need lots of liquids. I won’t take long.” She couldn’t mate or marry a dead man. She had to do this.
“Like hell. Fuck that. It’ll take a bullet to the head and not the leg to keep me here laid up on the couch like some pussy while my mate puts herself in danger for me.”
She kind of liked his all alpha mode, but that little tidbit stayed with her. He found out and all kinds of things could get out of whack.
“For us,” she corrected, turning to him. He crossed the short distance between them, leaning heavily on the couch and each piece of furniture between them for support. Nothing was holding him back, apparently.
She dropped her supplies and pressed both palms to his cheeks. “You do know you have a fever and you’ve been shot, right? Do you know why you can’t breathe and you’re probably seeing two of me?”
“’Cause you’re tearing my insides to pieces, woman!” A deep growl rumbled through her as he wrapped his arms around her.
“Please don’t go. Rone will be up this way in a day or two to check on the place. He always does. We can hold up until then.”
Tyrone, Rone for
Stubborn to the core. She fought to contain her frustration and the need to scream. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d stomped her feet, but the man made her feet itch to do some pounding.
“You wanna talk about tying down and using scarves? You even touch that door handle, woman, and I’ll have you wrapped around me so damn tight you won’t know where you end and I begin from now to the end of time, if it will keep you safe.”
Her mouth fell open. “And that’s the only reason, right? To keep me safe. Gotta keep your Boy Scout badges well-polished and shiny.”
She had a sinking feeling about the small confession, limited as it may be. Hope surfaced, but it only meant she fell for him a little harder despite wanting to clamp a hand over her ears in denial. Freaking werebear, always tying her in knots.
He slammed a fist down on the dining room table where she stood organizing the gear she needed for the tests. He moved fast for an injured man. She’d do good to remember that. “Dammit, Pepper, look at me.”
Anger made her movements jerky, but she turned to him. Big fat freaking mistake. Her heart lurched in her chest and did a freaking nosedive to the pit of her stomach without stopping so she could catch her breath.
He stalked forward, able to put a little more pressure on his leg than he had when they first walked in the door.
He palmed her face and angled her head to where all she saw was his searing gaze.
“It’s because you’re my mate. And if you go out that door and get hurt I’ll fucking kill someone or something. Then probably fucking die in the process.”
His Mate? Oh .
Eyes wide, her mouth worked but nothing came out. That was a first. Was that a confession of love? A proposal of marriage, as he’d put it? What did she do? What did he want her to say?
Tears burned the back of her eyes, but she fought to keep the well of hope in her heart locked away in case it was only a ruse to keep her here, close to him so he didn’t have a dead tourist muddying up his clean record with Wylde Excursions.
She knew better. She could lie to herself all she wanted, but the man meant every word he uttered. The kind of pain coloring his words was the kind a man buried. A pain that came from deep within, a place he never shared with anyone. She knew because the truth stared back at her. His eyes glowed with that now familiar golden ethereal light, but unlike other times fear mixed in those depths and silently pleaded with her to understand.
“Stay here.” She turned aside and it tore her apart to move that small fraction away from him. She clipped her pistol to her belt, gathered her gear and the case of vials in one hand, and tossed a water bottle his way to land on the couch with the other she tried to force down him to no avail. “You need lots of liquids. I won’t take long.” She couldn’t mate or marry a dead man. She had to do this.
“Like hell. Fuck that. It’ll take a bullet to the head and not the leg to keep me here laid up on the couch like some pussy while my mate puts herself in danger for me.”
She kind of liked his all alpha mode, but that little tidbit stayed with her. He found out and all kinds of things could get out of whack.
“For us,” she corrected, turning to him. He crossed the short distance between them, leaning heavily on the couch and each piece of furniture between them for support. Nothing was holding him back, apparently.
She dropped her supplies and pressed both palms to his cheeks. “You do know you have a fever and you’ve been shot, right? Do you know why you can’t breathe and you’re probably seeing two of me?”
“’Cause you’re tearing my insides to pieces, woman!” A deep growl rumbled through her as he wrapped his arms around her.
“Please don’t go. Rone will be up this way in a day or two to check on the place. He always does. We can hold up until then.”
Tyrone, Rone for
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