And something sweet and earthy almost like…honey.
No.Tuberoses.The aroma filled the kitchen, the distinctive perfume spreading through the space like a blooming garden.
My bear stirred under my skin. My cock tightened, and my heart sped up.
The stairs creaked. Stifling a curse, I set down my mug and turned just as Charlotte entered the kitchen.
Stunning.She was goddamn stunning in the morning sunlight, her red hair pulled back in a low ponytail that trailed over one softly rounded shoulder. Her creamy skin glowed, her cheekbones stained with a natural blush. Wire-framed glasses perched on the bridge of her slightly upturned nose, giving her the look of a bookish fairy. Thick lashes framed wide brown eyes behind the lenses, and more pink touched her full lips. Hiking pants hugged her trim, athletic body. Her black, long-sleeve athletic top emphasized her small, high breasts and narrow waist.
She was young enough to be my daughter.
Shoving away that thought, I cleared my throat. “Good morning. Coffee?”
She darted a look at the coffee maker, and a grateful smile made her eyes light up. “Please.”
I gestured to the breakfast table under the bay window. “Have a seat. I’ll pour you a cup.”
She obeyed, and I busied myself fetching a mug and gathering cream and sugar. I placed everything in front of her, earning another big smile. Her teeth were straight and white, her nails neat and short as she wrapped her fingers around the steaming mug. Little golden studs winked in her earlobes, the color the same as the tiny flecks that dotted her irises.
My bear stirred harder. The scent of tuberoses filled my lungs, the heady aroma going straight to my cock.
I spun and marched to the stove. With my back to her, I pulled out a frying pan and flipped on a burner. “Sleep well?” I asked, hearing gravel in my voice. I cleared my throat again.Get it together, Beck.
“Better than I have in a long time,” Charlotte said. “That bed is amazing.” When I looked over my shoulder, she sipped her coffee. Her eyes widened as she lowered the mug. “This is amazing, too.” Another sip, and she licked her lips. “Where did you learn to make coffee like this?”
I jerked my gaze from her mouth. “Just practice, I guess.”The experience of age.Shoving away that unhelpful thought, I swung back to the stove. “I’m making eggs for myself, but I’ll get you that muffin or banana if you want.” I risked another look over my shoulder. “Fair warning, though, my eggs are just as good as my coffee.”
She laughed—a husky sound that stroked over my nape. “I’ll have eggs, too.”
Nodding, I got to work, adding bacon and toast to the mix. Going through the familiar motions gave me something else to focus on besides the way her scent had my bear surging close to the surface.
But I still needed to get her out of Bear Cove as soon as possible, especially now that I knew her credentials.
“What kind of research is on the agenda today?” I asked without turning around.
The soft clink of her coffee mug on the table reached my ears, followed by the subtle creak of wood.
She must have leaned forward.And I wasn’t going to think about how that motion probably shifted her breasts.
“I’ll set up my first monitoring stations,” she said. “The ecological dead zone extends for at least ten miles in all directions from Bear Cove. Satellite imaging has shown a complete absence of wildlife.”
“Hmm,” I said, lifting the edge of the frying eggs with my spatula. Butter popped in the pan.
“I have a few theories,” Charlotte said, excitement in her voice. “I’m particularly interested in magnetic fields and unusual geological formations. Both of those can affect animal behavior and migration patterns.”
She continued, speaking of soil samples and thermal imaging and half a dozen other things I barely understood. Her scent warred with the aroma of bacon and toast, the honey-laced florals invading my lungs as I plated the food and turned back to the table.
She pushed back her chair. “Oh my gosh, I’ve been droning on when I should have offered to help.”
“No worries,” I said, sliding a plate in front of her and waving her into her seat. I smiled as I sat with my own plate. “Like most cooks, I don’t want anyone else touching my stove.” I nodded toward her food. “Eat while it’s hot.”
She flashed a grateful smile, picked up her fork, and dug into her eggs. Her eyes widened again as she chewed, and she groaned around the bite in her mouth.
My bear shoved at the invisible bonds that kept it in check. Charlotte’s scent swirled thicker. Butter glistened at the corner of her mouth.
Christ, what is wrong with me?But a little voice in my head whispered the answer.
I ignored it.
