“What, no…” She took a step back, even as her sugar cookie scent spiked.
I stayed where I was, for both our sakes, but something mean and petty made me point out, “I’m a bear, sweetness. I can smellyour arousal. We all can. You’re the walking scent profile of ‘My mouth is saying no, but my body is saying yes.’”
She opened her mouth to argue, but I guess she was smart enough to figure out I wasn’t lying about this.
She closed it again. Reset. Then lifted her chin high to insist, “I don’t need your protection. I’m only here because I don’t have anywhere else to go. Thank you for the safe space. But I’ve got it from here. I can take care of myself.”
“No, you can’t.”
She looked so damn fragile—standing there, insisting she could do this on her own after everything that piece of shit had put her through. Like something made of glass pretending to be stone.
Every protective instinct I had fired inside of me, and before I could stop myself, I stepped forward and cupped her shoulders. “Baby, you can’t take care of yourself. Not right now. Boone saw you last night. We all did, through his eyes. You were terrified. Trembling and begging that bastard not to hurt you. You were crying—like, real tears.”
I prided myself in staying cool, no matter the circumstance, but I couldn’t keep the emotion out of my voice. Not when it came to this. To her. “You were trapped, baby. Trapped in your own mind, and Boone had to come get you out.”
“Don’t!” Bell recoiled from my hands like they were covered in slime. “Don’t touch me!”
Ursa damnit.
My jaw set. This was not going to plan. I was just as bad as Boone for not waiting for Zion, our words guy, to handle this.
But the cat was out of the bag, so I might as well finish it.
“It’s true that your choices are limited right now, and that’s the only reason you’re here. But the rest is lies you’re telling yourself,” I informed her through gritted teeth. “You need us. And it’s our job to protect you. So understand, that is what we will do. You don’t get a say in that.”
She flinched, then hugged her arms around herself. Like someone trying to protect themselves from a blow.
“I’m very grateful,” she whispered. “But I don’t like this.”
She raised her baleful gaze to look directly at me, voice trembling. “And I don’t like you. I think I might hate you right now.”
I was better at hiding my emotions than she was. Instead of flinching, I kept my voice level. “You don’t have to like me. The protection order still stands. No more sleeping alone.”
Her jaw worked.
If it had been Niska, this would have been a prime catalyst for one of her temper tantrums.
But in the end, Bell said, “Fine. I’ll put up with it—but only until I can figure out a way to pay you back and find other lodging. And only if the sentry stays on the first floor. No more waking up with some random guy in my bed. They’ll have to bring over a sleeping bag, like Boone did in my apartment.”
Random.
The word stuck in my craw, even as my cock pulsed at the thought of sharing a bed with her, being there in the morning when it was my turn.
We weren’t random. We were her mates. But I swallowed the correction.
“Fine. We’ll sleep in bear form on the first floor.”
“Not you. Only Zion and Boone.” She unwrapped her arms from around her body, lifting her chin again. “At least Zion’s nice, and Boone doesn’t act like it was his right to invade my personal space after promising to leave me alone. I don’t want you in my space.”
I couldn’t say this was an unfamiliar position for me to be in.
I was the only one of Niska’s mates that she didn’t choose, and there were those two frozen out years after we divorced Erik.
I shouldn’t be surprised Bell would try to shut me out, too, even if it was for doing what was best for her. The whole point of Operation Sugar Cookie was for Zion and Boone to bring her around while I coordinated plays from the sidelines.
Still, my bear took it personally.
Not chosen. Again.
