By whom? Given her reaction to the last thing he’d said—a joke about a mother selling her child—he cringed to imagine. Who could ever harm a kid?
How could he show her that some people were worthy of trust?
He should start by proving he had some brains. What must she think, him getting caught by a snare then unable to release himself? Pathetic. How could he prove he’d make her a fine mate if she thought he needed to be taken care of?
His stomach muscles protested as he pulled himself up enough that he could saw at the rope holding his ankles. He dropped the knife into the snow before he fell, managing to twist and land on his feet. Not that there was anyone there to admire his agility. She really had left.
He had no problem following, especially since he heard his snowmobile revving in the distance. Given the coordinates he’d entered into his phone, they weren’t far from her place. He jogged down the trail and arrived in time to see her unstrapping the load in the sledge that acted as a trailer.
She slewed a gaze his way but said nothing as she hauled a case of canned preserves into the log cabin. Not a big place, especially compared to the homes in town. It was made of actual logs, notched together at the corners. A window to the left of the door. Not a big one. The chimney from the steeply pitched roof puffed smoke. To the side of the cabin and wrapping around the corner right to the front door was an untouched woodpile. A peek around the side showed a trail going to the back. When the weather was good, she made the extra effort to get the stuff farthest away.
Smart.
Unlike him. He entered the cabin, carrying two large bins at a time, which, in retrospect, was dumb. Yes, it showcased his fine muscles, but it also meant they would empty the sledge much too fast.
Despite the pitched roof, the ceiling was low inside, planks of wood draped across notched beams. She saw him staring and said, “They’re lined with insulation on the other side but loose so I can remove them in the summer.”
“To let the hot air rise,” he muttered. Then frowned. “Does it get that hot?”
“Maybe not the kind you’re used to down south but enough that you’re hot and sweaty when trying to sleep.”
The thought of her glistening and wet…
His desire hovered as he stared at her. Her lips parted. Did she feel it, the connection between them—
That broke as she walked out the door to grab another load. He followed, and realized they were almost done. Apparently, a person living alone didn’t need much stuff.
The moment he dropped the two large jugs of water, she was ready for him to leave.
“Thanks. Bye.”
“I don’t suppose I could trouble you for a drink. I’m awfully thirsty.” He gave her his most engaging smile. The one that made his mother roll her eyes and then feed him. Often. A growing Amur tiger needed a lot of nourishing.
“I only have water.”
“I like water.” Usually as an ice cube in a chilled glass of something alcoholic.
She stomped to a sink, which was fed from a jug on the counter. She poured him a cup and offered it, careful to not touch him.
He took a sip. “Have you lived here long?”
It was hard to tell. The cabin appeared as if it had sat here quite some time, but inside, it lacked the homey accents that would make it a home. No pictures or knickknacks, just practical stuff. A single bed with bins tucked underneath. A table with a single straight-back chair. Shelves ran the perimeter of the room, about a foot below the roofline, and held books. Lots of books.
There was a single plush seat, the kind that could rock, in front of a woodstove, with more books stacked beside it. The counter that ran the length of one wall was stacked underneath with food. The shelves over it held dishes and spices. A simmering pot cooked on her woodstove, emitting a savory scent. As per the sparse intel he’d managed to acquire from town, she lived alone.
“I’ve been here a little while.”
“I’m surprised you don’t have a pet.” While some might think it ironic a shifter would have a furry critter underfoot, for many, it provided a simple companion that sometimes understood them better than humans ever could.
“Have you seen the size of this place?” She arched a brow. “Besides, I like being alone.”
“You do?” He glanced around. Tried to imagine what it would be like to have no one else around. Nor even a television or radio. No sound at all. “That seems very…lonely.”
“Don’t start. Did Tammy put you up to this?”
“What?” The question confused him.
“She asked you to deliver the groceries, didn’t she?”
“Actually, it was Reid.” He skipped the part where he begged.
She frowned. “Reid and not Tammy?”
“Would you feel better if I said Boris threatened to cut off my balls if I upset you.”
Her lips twitched. “Yes.”
“And Jan said she’d make sure she blew my brains so wide I’d never come back to life as a zombie.”
She cracked a small smile. “Sounds like Jan.”
“You have a lot of folks in town who care for you.”
She shrugged. “They’re good people.”
“If they’re so good, why do you hide in the woods?”
Rather than reply, she asked him point-blank, “Why are you so interested in me?”
His mother didn’t raise a liar. “You’re my mate.”
She blinked, and her face went through a myriad of flashing expressions. “No.”
Just the one word, but scent didn’t lie. She wasn’t hiding behind a cardboard green tree freshener this time.
He grinned. “Yeah, you are.”
She shook her head. “No. I’m not. So you can get that stupid idea out of your head.”
“How can you be sure? Maybe you need to smell me a little closer?”
“I can smell you just fine. Still not interested.”
He reached for her, just a light brush of his fingers over her hand, and she jumped as if he’d tasered her—which he’d seen before. Yet, in her case, rather than jiggling with electrical current, her eyes widened.
In fear.
Of him.
Unacceptable.
Which was why he immediately raised his hands and backed away.
That didn’t stop her from grabbing the shotgun by the door and aiming it in his direction. “Get out.”
“Now, bella.”
“I said out.”
Given he’d gravely erred, he knew better than to argue. Besides, he didn’t trust himself to speak.
Too many things came clear in that instant. The main point being someone had scared his future mate.
Not just scared but obviously hurt her.
And that just wasn’t something he could tolerate.
Tell me who I have to kill.
Chapter 4
Rilee was still shaking. Mateo hadn’t done a single threatening thing, just a brief touch of skin. To say it had startled was an understatement.
Excitement. A shot of heated lust.
Then fear. Panic.
At least he’d not argued and had left before she had to shoot him. Once he was gone, she barred the door and leaned on it long after the chugging motor of the sled faded.
Hated that she’d so quickly fallen into that trap. Would she regress to that ugly time after Reid had rescued her when a harmless touch had kept her hiding in her room the rest of that week?