She sharply pushed the dangerous fantasies aside, trying to regain her composure even as liquid heat pooled low in her belly. “You barely know me,” she pointed out, hating how breathy she sounded. “How can you be so sure about this—about us?”
The candlelight flickered, the firelight casting dancing shadows on his broad, fur-covered chest and highlighting his striking features. Monte drew back slightly to look into her eyes, his gaze intense and unwavering.
The intimate atmosphere of the dining room seemed to envelop them both, heightening her senses, making her more aware of his presence. Her heart raced as she watched him, the flicker of flames reflecting in his eyes, like the physical display of silence burning between them.
“I know enough. You’re brilliant, fearless, compassionate. You see me, the real me, in a way no one else ever has.” His hand came up to gently cup her cheek, his touch scorching her skin. “We may come from different worlds, but I feel a connection with you I can’t ignore. Tell me you feel it too, Kiri.”
She trembled under his piercing stare, wanting so badly to lean into his touch, to admit the undeniable attraction sparking between them. The temptation to throw caution to the wind and explore whatever was forming between them.
But the rational part of her brain won out, forcing her to lean away from him. “I... I’m sorry, Monte. This is all moving so fast,”she said, shaking her head as if to clear it. “I don’t know what to say.”
“I cannot deny the attraction I feel for you… There’s something about you that draws me in... and it’s not just your beauty that captivates me.” He paused for a moment, his gaze searching her face before asking hesitantly, his voice low. “Why do you give me mixed signals?”
Monte’s usually gruff demeanor had softened, revealing a side of him she hadn’t expected. He leaned forward slightly, his large hands resting on the table, fingers curling into the wood as if to anchor himself.
“You have a mate, don’t you? Why would they allow you to come here?” His gaze bored into hers, curiosity and something more—something primal—glinting in his eyes. “Why take a job so far away from everything you know?”
Kiri’s breath hitched. The directness of his question cut through her like a blade, sharp and unyielding as a lump formed in her throat. She glanced down, tracing the grain of the wooden table with her fingertip, gathering the courage to answer. Vulnerability wasn’t something she easily embraced, but there was something about Monte that made her want to open up.
“I don’t have a mate,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “I was once engaged to be married, but I caught my future husband sleeping with a coworker.” She took a deep breath, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “It’s been a few years, but I haven’t found the courage to try again. After learning that they recently got married, and she’s expecting…”
Monte’s eyes softened, his intense gaze shifting to one of understanding. He nodded as he reached across the table, gently covering her hand with his. The connection sent a current of warmth through her body, even in the midst of her painful memories. His touch was reassuring, yet electrifying all at once.
“It felt like the universe was mocking me, and shattered everything I thought I knew about love and trust,” Kiri continued, her voice growing steadier. “That was a few years ago, but I haven’t found the courage to try again. So, when this job offer came up, I took it. I needed to get away from all the memories, the pain. And thankfully, my best friend decided to join me, to escape her own past.”
“Kiri, your ex made a mistake,” he murmured, his fingers tenderly caressing her hand. “You are strong, beautiful, and deserving of love. Do not let the actions of one foolish male define your worth or your future happiness.” He brushed his thumb against her knuckles. “Anyone would be lucky to have you as a mate.”
A tear slipped down her cheek, but was quickly wiped away and replaced by a tentative smile. Embarrassed, yet relieved, she squeezed his hand.
“Thank you, Monte,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “But unfortunately, I’m afraid of getting hurt again… and with every year, I’m not getting any younger.”
“Unless you age like fine wine,” Monte teased gently with a soft smile. “Or maybe you’re an aged cheese type female.”
“Are you telling me that I smell?” She gasped, wiping her tears as they slid down her cheek and let out a shaky laugh.
“I would never tell a female that she smelled.” He snorted, merriment dancing in his eyes. “But you did reek of skunk when I first discovered you.”
“Because one snuck up on me!”
“I don’t believe you,” Monte muttered, shaking his head. “They’re scared of others, especially anything much taller than it.”
“Maybe they are scared of you, because you’re a freakin Mountain Minotaur!”
“And you’re a human female.” He tilted his head. “What else would I be?”
She felt a warmth spread through her chest, a burgeoning hope that maybe she could find happiness again. With Monte by her side, the future didn’t seem so daunting.
She squeezed his hand, feeling a mix of gratitude and relief. It wasn’t just about what he said; it was the way he said it, as if he truly believed every word. Her shoulders relaxed, tension melting away under his reassuring gaze. For the first time in ages, she felt genuinely seen.
There was something comforting in Monte’s words, in the way his dark eyes held no judgment, only sincerity. And for the first time in a long while, she felt a spark of something she thought she’d lost forever—hope.
“Thank you for the meal, Monte,” she said, her voice steadier now. She needed a moment, a break from the intensity of emotions that had surfaced so unexpectedly. “I think I should... I should go to my room.”
“Of course,” he replied gently, understanding in his eyes. “Take all the time you need.”
He watched as she stood up from the table and left the room, his gaze lingering on her retreating form.
Once inside her room, Kiri closed the door behind her and leaned against it, taking deep, calming breaths as she tried to process everything that had just transpired.
