to dry off and head back. I still have fishing to do, and your skin is pruned.”
“I think you worry overmuch about food.”
Braeden grinned. “One thing I picked up from my father—always be prepared. He had that constant worry with three boys in the house. ‘Tis hard to keep us all satisfied,” he said.
He stood in the pool, pulling her up with him. She watched his face instead of the rivulets running down his long hair to his skin. Was he merely talking of food or something more? Her kind tended to mate and remain together until their young left home. She knew nothing of the Ursine and their habits, but she longed to know more and couldn’t fathom why she was so keen to learn. Hopes to prolong contact with him vanished with the evaporating steam from their bodies. He lifted himself from the pool, arms bulging with the strain of his body weight, and she admired his backside as he exited with a hiss as frigid air met wet skin.
“Leaving is the worst part,” he said over his shoulder, shivering as he dried off and dressed before giving her a helping hand out. He wrapped the linen around her before she could get too cold and dried her as she sat on the lip of the pool. He retrieved her clothing and bent to slip her shoes on her feet so they would warm first. As his large hands engulfed her small feet, she couldn’t help but notice the intimate, tender act felt incredibl e . She couldn’t remember the last time she was cared for in such a manner—her parents had raised her to be independent. Being protected was unfamiliar but welcome.
She dropped the linen from her shoulders, allowing him to slip the dress over her head and arms. When she thrust her face through the neckline, she caught his caressing gaze on her chest, and that familiar heat tingled inside yet again.
She didn’t bother to disguise her disappointment or need with his refusal to act, or his strange idea that resisting their animal instincts was somehow noble . By now, he knew what she wanted.
***
Braeden was damned skilled at retreating. She supposed it must be a talent he’d picked up from escaping from his family. By now, she found it as amusing as it was annoying.
Kimber knew it was only a matter of time before Braeden gave in to her and put her out of the miserable pain of her mating heat. He pretended he didn’t want her, but she knew that was only an act—and he was a terrible liar. A man didn’t kiss a woman like that if he felt nothing. Feeling inexplicably giddy, she danced around the cave, stacking the wood he’d chopped inside along one wall. She straightened the bedding, imaging them tangled on the luxurious furs and again a dizzying feeling rushed through her. Giving in to her smiles felt wondrous, and s he swept the ash out of the pit as well as the dust that had settled further inside.
The dwelling cooled without a fire to warm it, but her movements kept her warm.
Kimber wasn’t sure how long she’d danced around and cleaned without complaint —a light heart and step made the time go by quickly . Stepping through the entrance, however, outside seemed darker. Heavy cloud hung in the grey sky, and a brisk wind whipped the spruce and pine, flinging their snowy burden to the ground in clumps.
Where was Braeden, she wondered. She began to worry about him taking so long fishing. She ’d thought surely he’d be back by now. Perhaps he’d caught so many fish he couldn’t bring them all back on his own?
Kimber discarded the long spruce bow she’d used to sweep, returned inside and slung her cloak on before going out once more to watch the sky. As if to accentuate her worries, snowflakes began flutter ing down, clinging and melting against her ha ir and eyelashes as she looked to the path he’d beaten up over the rise.
“I’m not just going to stand here making myself sick with worry,” she muttered.
Making up her mind, she dashed inside and grabbed a small, burlap sack to help carry fish before setting out on
“I think you worry overmuch about food.”
Braeden grinned. “One thing I picked up from my father—always be prepared. He had that constant worry with three boys in the house. ‘Tis hard to keep us all satisfied,” he said.
He stood in the pool, pulling her up with him. She watched his face instead of the rivulets running down his long hair to his skin. Was he merely talking of food or something more? Her kind tended to mate and remain together until their young left home. She knew nothing of the Ursine and their habits, but she longed to know more and couldn’t fathom why she was so keen to learn. Hopes to prolong contact with him vanished with the evaporating steam from their bodies. He lifted himself from the pool, arms bulging with the strain of his body weight, and she admired his backside as he exited with a hiss as frigid air met wet skin.
“Leaving is the worst part,” he said over his shoulder, shivering as he dried off and dressed before giving her a helping hand out. He wrapped the linen around her before she could get too cold and dried her as she sat on the lip of the pool. He retrieved her clothing and bent to slip her shoes on her feet so they would warm first. As his large hands engulfed her small feet, she couldn’t help but notice the intimate, tender act felt incredibl e . She couldn’t remember the last time she was cared for in such a manner—her parents had raised her to be independent. Being protected was unfamiliar but welcome.
She dropped the linen from her shoulders, allowing him to slip the dress over her head and arms. When she thrust her face through the neckline, she caught his caressing gaze on her chest, and that familiar heat tingled inside yet again.
She didn’t bother to disguise her disappointment or need with his refusal to act, or his strange idea that resisting their animal instincts was somehow noble . By now, he knew what she wanted.
***
Braeden was damned skilled at retreating. She supposed it must be a talent he’d picked up from escaping from his family. By now, she found it as amusing as it was annoying.
Kimber knew it was only a matter of time before Braeden gave in to her and put her out of the miserable pain of her mating heat. He pretended he didn’t want her, but she knew that was only an act—and he was a terrible liar. A man didn’t kiss a woman like that if he felt nothing. Feeling inexplicably giddy, she danced around the cave, stacking the wood he’d chopped inside along one wall. She straightened the bedding, imaging them tangled on the luxurious furs and again a dizzying feeling rushed through her. Giving in to her smiles felt wondrous, and s he swept the ash out of the pit as well as the dust that had settled further inside.
The dwelling cooled without a fire to warm it, but her movements kept her warm.
Kimber wasn’t sure how long she’d danced around and cleaned without complaint —a light heart and step made the time go by quickly . Stepping through the entrance, however, outside seemed darker. Heavy cloud hung in the grey sky, and a brisk wind whipped the spruce and pine, flinging their snowy burden to the ground in clumps.
Where was Braeden, she wondered. She began to worry about him taking so long fishing. She ’d thought surely he’d be back by now. Perhaps he’d caught so many fish he couldn’t bring them all back on his own?
Kimber discarded the long spruce bow she’d used to sweep, returned inside and slung her cloak on before going out once more to watch the sky. As if to accentuate her worries, snowflakes began flutter ing down, clinging and melting against her ha ir and eyelashes as she looked to the path he’d beaten up over the rise.
“I’m not just going to stand here making myself sick with worry,” she muttered.
Making up her mind, she dashed inside and grabbed a small, burlap sack to help carry fish before setting out on
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