Buck’s breath hissed between his teeth. “Bastard.”
There was a small, savage part of Honey that shared that sentiment, but she shook her head. “He had his reasons. Anyway, that’s all there is to tell. If you were expecting some great dramatic revelation, I’m sorry to disappoint you. It’s not like I was non-consensually turned into a giant glowing winged wolf and keep waking up naked on rooftops.”
“Honey, you spent half your life trapped in a shell of a marriage by a gaslighting coward who convinced you that your own needs didn’t matter, then bailed the moment he no longer needed a combination live-in housekeeper and nanny.” Buck’s fingers tightened on her thigh, gripping hard. “Shit. And I twisted your arm into agreeing to yet another sham relationship. You should have punchedmein the face. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. Really, I didn’t mind pretending that we were together.” God, how she hadn’t minded. “It was the only way to stop the kids from figuring out I’m not a shifter.”
“That’s not why I’m sorry.” He shifted position, drawing closer. “I’ve been a motherloving idiot, Honey. I’m sorry I ever asked you to pretend. I should have made this real, right from the start.”
His dark gaze held her hypnotized. She’d seen that look before. When they’d kissed under the moon, and later, in a dozen fleeting moments. She’d thought he’d been faking, but he hadn’t. She knew that now, at a bone-deep level. The look in his eyes sparked an answer in her own body that couldn’t be faked. She’d just been too hurt, too afraid to trust her own feelings, to let herself see what had been there all along.
“Honey.” There was nothing sweet about the way he said her name. It was harsh with need, raw and primal. He was close now, so close. “Tell me what you want, Honey.”
“I want to make this real,” she whispered. “If you do.”
“I want you.” He cupped her face, fingers sliding through her hair. “I have always wanted you. And from this moment on, you will fake absolutelynothing.”
A shard of sense sliced through her fog of lust. Because of course there was one thing that shewouldstill have to fake, no matter what he said. And that made her remember—
“Wait!” Her palms slammed against his bare chest. He froze, mouth a fraction of an inch from hers. “Buck, what about your mate?”
He drew back, sudden wariness flashing across his face. “What?”
“You’re a shifter.” She saw his mouth twist, and hurriedly rushed on, “You must have a true mate somewhere out there.”
His expression was rapidly sliding toward a much more familiar exasperation. “Honey, you are half naked in my bed. Believe me, I do not care about any other woman right now. Or at any other time, for that matter.”
“You say that now, but that’s only because you haven’t met her.” She braced her arms, holding him off as he tried to lean in again. “What if you do, one day? No matter how we feel about each other, I can’t be your perfect match. You said shifters never make a mistake with their mates. And your animal knows I’m not yours.”
Buck let out a long, aggrieved sigh. He sat back, and for a moment she thought she’d won the argument.
Then, in a blur of movement, Buck was on her, hands pinning her wrists on either side of her head. The rough denim of his jeans rasped against her bare skin. He looked down at her, face inches from her own, with eyes gone black and feral.
“Honey,” he growled. “When have you ever known me to give a flying fuck what my animal thinks?”
His mouth claimed hers. All her uncertainty vanished, burned away by the fire of that kiss. Nothing—no fated mate, no mystic connection—could be more right than this.
She arced up to him, kissing him back with equal urgency. His hands loosened on her wrists, moving to frame her face. She linked her hands behind his neck, pulling him down as his fingers tangled in her hair.
Buck broke off abruptly, pulling away a little. He stared down at her, chest heaving for breath.
“Hold that thought,” he said, voice gone ragged and rough. He pushed himself off her, standing up. “Be right back.”
“Buck?” Honey struggled to her elbows, head still spinning from the intensity of that kiss. “What—?”
He was already gone, striding bare-chested out into the night. True to his word, he returned a minute later, while she was still blinking after him in muzzy bafflement. He shut the door, locking it, then looked around.
“Perimeter seems secure.” Buck raked a hand through his hair. “Better search the area too. Give me a second.”
“Uh…” Honey said as he jerked his closet open. “Buck, what are you doing?”
He subjected his clothes to deep, suspicious scrutiny. “Checking for kids.”
“In your closet?”
“Can’t be too careful.” Apparently satisfied that one of the campers had not inexplicably teleported into his t-shirts, Buck shut the closet again. He bent to peer under the bed. “You see anyone in the bathroom earlier?”
“Buck, there was barely room formein there. I think I would have noticed a wombat.”
