Good.
He ate standing at the counter, efficient and quick. Cleaned his dishes and put them away. Everything back in order. Turning off the kitchen light, he headed through the dark house toward his room. The hallway was silent. Her door was closed, no light visible underneath.
Asleep then.
He sighed in relief as he walked into his room. It was spartan. Functional. The bed took up most of the space, large enough for even his frame. He had a small chest for clothes and a chair by the window he never sat in but was often decorated by his jacket and pants while he slept. Nothing decorative. Nothing personal.
The way it should be.
Stripping, he climbed into bed, settling onto the right side the way he always did. The left side was empty, untouched.
The house creaked as it settled. Outside, the wind picked up, whistling around the corners. Familiar sounds that usually lulled him to sleep.
Tonight they just made him more aware of the unfamiliar presence down the hall.
He heard her moving. Just small sounds, the female shifting on the bed, maybe adjusting the blankets. Soft sounds that shouldn’t have carried but did in the deep quiet of the house.
His hands fisted in the blanket.
Six weeks with a female who made his pulse jump just by existing. Whose tiny frame made him want both to protect her and take her. Whose mouth he couldn’t stop thinking about even when it wouldn’t stop moving.
Six weeks of being careful, controlled, holding back.
He closed his eyes.
But sleep wouldn’t come.
Instead, he lay awake, listening to the sound of her breathing from down the hall.
Chapter 3
The cold woke her before dawn. Juni pulled the blanket tighter and curled into a ball, but it didn’t help. The fabric was thick enough, but the air itself felt sharp against her face. Her breath misted in front of her nose. How did anyone sleep in this? She gave up and sat, feet hitting the floor with a shock of ice. The stone froze her soles on contact. Dancing from foot to foot, she grabbed her boots and yanked them on, then wrapped the blanket around her shoulders like a cape.
The house was silent. Dark. Through the narrow window, she could see the first hints of orange light touching the mountain peaks. Her stomach growled loud enough that she winced and pressed a hand against it.
Coffee. Please let there be coffee.
The hallway was even colder than her room. She shuffled toward the kitchen, the blanket trailing behind her, and pushed through the doorway. Then stopped.
Goraath stood at the counter, naked from the waist up.
Oh shit. Her brain short-circuited. Just blanked. He was massive. She’d known that already, it was hard to miss when someone was nearly seven feet tall, but seeing him without a shirt made the reality of his size hit harder. His shoulders were broader than seemed possible, almost as big as the barn outside.
He had his back to her, all that golden-tan skin pulled tight over muscles that bunched as he reached for something on the upper shelf. Then he turned, and she saw the scars.
They were everywhere. A jagged line across his ribs on the left side. Another that curved over his shoulder and disappeared down his back. Smaller ones scattered across his chest and arms… a map of violence she couldn’t read. Her throat went tight. What animals did that?
His amber eyes locked on her. “You’re awake.”
“I—” She cleared her throat. “I was cold. Always wakes me up.”
He grunted and turned back to whatever he was doing. Steam rose from a mug on the counter. She should look away. Should stop staring at his back. Should act normal instead of standing there gaping at the sight of a shirtless man in the kitchen. Instead she just stood there, staring like an idiot.
“There’s kasta.” He gestured to a pot on the heating unit without looking at her.
“Thank you.” She moved toward it. The kitchen wasn’t large. Passing him meant getting close enough to feel the heat radiating from his skin. Close enough to catch a scent that was earthy and warm and made her stomach do a weird flip.
Get a grip on yourself, girl.
