Read Online Treeland Pack Tales 3: A Trace of Ivy by Evanne Lorraine - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Evanne Lorraine
Ads: Link
sounded adorably grumpy, which made her feel
better about being such a basket case.
The teeth-rattling cold passed. Still she didn’t want to
leave the comfort of his embrace. “What kind of rules am I breaking?”
“I’ve never had a female sleepover.”
She tried to pull away again. “I’ll call Scarlet. She gave
me her number.”
“Don’t be a goose.”
“As I understand it, I’m a wolfie.” She huffed.
He squeezed her tighter. “Good thing.”
“Seriously, I’ll leave or stay in a guest room, or if you
don’t have a spare bed, I’ll sleep on one of your couches.”
He tilted her chin until she met his gaze. “Absolutely not.”
His eyes glowed with hunger. Her lashes lowered to shield
her from the intensity. She shivered and not entirely from fear. “I’m still not
ready for sex.”
“Doesn’t matter. You’re sleeping in my bed.”
“I’d be fine on the couch,” she lied, miserably aware how
much she depended on Chet’s presence to keep her from succumbing to the evil
images lurking in her mind and hating herself for being so weak—so needy.
“Maybe you would, although you’d be much more comfortable in
one of the guest suites. However, I would not get a wink of sleep.”
Wanting to understand this male better, she asked, “You said
you’d never had a woman sleep here, but you’ve had them uh…visit?”
“Not many, not often, and not for a long time.”
What’s a long time to
you? She decided she would stay happier not knowing. She gave him a
tentative smile. There was no sign of a woman’s presence in the apartment. The
rooms she’d seen were luxurious and elegant, like the male who owned them.
Then she recalled the guest toothbrushes, and doubts
returned. He was rich, powerful, and had his pick of females. Had Scarlet been
right about him bonding to her? And what did that really mean? Was he was serious
about wanting her forever, or simply gallant? No matter what, she owed him her
life and was sincerely grateful for his kindness and his nearness.
“Help me finish dinner.” Chet held out a hand and she took
it, letting him tug her back into the kitchen.
“Definitely.” She’d dreaded the loss of contact and doing
nothing while he cooked. She missed Kat and Tess and couldn’t imagine sleeping
alone. Her eyelids felt as gritty as a beach path and her stomach empty enough
to rub her backbone. She’d probably fall into a stupor two seconds after
eating.
“Dress the salad, please.”
Tossing the veggies with the cruet of dressing Chet handed
her and setting the bowl on the counter took all of a minute. “What else can I
do to help?”
“Come here and shake the mushrooms while I check the
steaks.” He passed her a pair of oven mitts. The stovetop and ovens were side
by side, and so were she and Chet. As she kept meaty slices of portabella from
burning in the melted butter, her hip pressed against his unyielding thigh.
She’d fought not to cringe from Daniel’s firm hold on her
shoulder, but she yearned for Chet’s closeness. Was this because of the effect
of his touch, the way Scarlet had explained, or was there more to her craving?
Disturbed by being so clingy, she chattered. “Until I was taken and met the
other captives, I never imagined I was anything except an ordinary human.”
“I would wager a substantial sum you were never ordinary.”
Ivy peeked at him from under her lashes. The male was
utterly gorgeous. Before the attack she would’ve been tripping over her feet
after just one of his smoldering glances. What a pity she was such a pathetic
mess. But then if not for the rogues, she would never have met him. She forced
her mind back to what she needed to say. “What I’m trying to explain is
sometimes life takes turns we didn’t expect, and we have to adjust. I didn’t
plan on being a wolfie, and you didn’t plan on nearly bonding with a damaged
female.”
He started to speak, but she bumped his hip.
“Watch yourself, sweet
better about being such a basket case.
The teeth-rattling cold passed. Still she didn’t want to
leave the comfort of his embrace. “What kind of rules am I breaking?”
“I’ve never had a female sleepover.”
She tried to pull away again. “I’ll call Scarlet. She gave
me her number.”
“Don’t be a goose.”
“As I understand it, I’m a wolfie.” She huffed.
He squeezed her tighter. “Good thing.”
“Seriously, I’ll leave or stay in a guest room, or if you
don’t have a spare bed, I’ll sleep on one of your couches.”
He tilted her chin until she met his gaze. “Absolutely not.”
His eyes glowed with hunger. Her lashes lowered to shield
her from the intensity. She shivered and not entirely from fear. “I’m still not
ready for sex.”
“Doesn’t matter. You’re sleeping in my bed.”
“I’d be fine on the couch,” she lied, miserably aware how
much she depended on Chet’s presence to keep her from succumbing to the evil
images lurking in her mind and hating herself for being so weak—so needy.
“Maybe you would, although you’d be much more comfortable in
one of the guest suites. However, I would not get a wink of sleep.”
Wanting to understand this male better, she asked, “You said
you’d never had a woman sleep here, but you’ve had them uh…visit?”
“Not many, not often, and not for a long time.”
What’s a long time to
you? She decided she would stay happier not knowing. She gave him a
tentative smile. There was no sign of a woman’s presence in the apartment. The
rooms she’d seen were luxurious and elegant, like the male who owned them.
Then she recalled the guest toothbrushes, and doubts
returned. He was rich, powerful, and had his pick of females. Had Scarlet been
right about him bonding to her? And what did that really mean? Was he was serious
about wanting her forever, or simply gallant? No matter what, she owed him her
life and was sincerely grateful for his kindness and his nearness.
“Help me finish dinner.” Chet held out a hand and she took
it, letting him tug her back into the kitchen.
“Definitely.” She’d dreaded the loss of contact and doing
nothing while he cooked. She missed Kat and Tess and couldn’t imagine sleeping
alone. Her eyelids felt as gritty as a beach path and her stomach empty enough
to rub her backbone. She’d probably fall into a stupor two seconds after
eating.
“Dress the salad, please.”
Tossing the veggies with the cruet of dressing Chet handed
her and setting the bowl on the counter took all of a minute. “What else can I
do to help?”
“Come here and shake the mushrooms while I check the
steaks.” He passed her a pair of oven mitts. The stovetop and ovens were side
by side, and so were she and Chet. As she kept meaty slices of portabella from
burning in the melted butter, her hip pressed against his unyielding thigh.
She’d fought not to cringe from Daniel’s firm hold on her
shoulder, but she yearned for Chet’s closeness. Was this because of the effect
of his touch, the way Scarlet had explained, or was there more to her craving?
Disturbed by being so clingy, she chattered. “Until I was taken and met the
other captives, I never imagined I was anything except an ordinary human.”
“I would wager a substantial sum you were never ordinary.”
Ivy peeked at him from under her lashes. The male was
utterly gorgeous. Before the attack she would’ve been tripping over her feet
after just one of his smoldering glances. What a pity she was such a pathetic
mess. But then if not for the rogues, she would never have met him. She forced
her mind back to what she needed to say. “What I’m trying to explain is
sometimes life takes turns we didn’t expect, and we have to adjust. I didn’t
plan on being a wolfie, and you didn’t plan on nearly bonding with a damaged
female.”
He started to speak, but she bumped his hip.
“Watch yourself, sweet
Similar Books
