smooth-talking Liam would probably find some loophole. Liam seemed to be good at getting his own way.
But Ronan, she’d seen, despite his brawn and good-natured banter, was not stupid. He studied her now with shrewd perception. “You don’t have to tell me, Elizabeth. You wait until you’re ready. And if it’s never, then it’s never.”
“It won’t be never.”
Ronan brought their clasped hands up and rubbed her cheek with his broad finger. “The bears in this house have been through a lot. I’ve learned not to force them to talk about it. You take your time.”
Elizabeth turned her head to find herself nose-to-nose with him. “I used to be a very bad judge of character, is all.” Elizabeth slid her hand to his neck, playing with the ends of his very short hair. She liked how it felt, prickly but soft, like Olaf’s fur. Under that was his Collar, warm metal fused to his neck. “But I’ve become much better at it,” she said softly.
“And I’m one of the good ones?”
For answer, Elizabeth leaned in and kissed him.
It started as a small kiss, a thank-you kiss, but Ronan’s big hand came around her neck, and he slanted his mouth over hers. His answering kiss was strong, warm, responsive.
Elizabeth parted her lips, her body tightening as his tongue swept into her mouth. His strength took her breath away, but he gentled it for her, holding back. Holding back a lot. The wildness in him, tempered for her, excited her.
He kissed slowly, firmly, his lips smooth. Elizabeth let her fingers slide down his back, finding muscles so solid they didn’t give under her fingers. His hand on her neck never moved, as though he held her up, as though she’d never fall as long as he was with her.
Elizabeth moved closer. She kissed him hungrily, needing to know he’d hold her up forever.
On her lap, Olaf stirred and emitted a little growl.
Ronan eased from the kiss but didn’t release her. He held her, their faces almost touching, his eyes so dark. A spark winked deep within them.
I can take care of myself.
This was Elizabeth’s constant mantra. But wouldn’t it be wonderful to surrender to strength such as Ronan had, to know she would be safe—for always?
“We should put him to bed,” Ronan said.
Olaf. He was warm on her lap, sleeping soundly. Elizabeth didn’t want to let him go.
“You have a bed for baby polar bears?”
“He’ll shift back.”
Ronan pressed a last, soft kiss to Elizabeth’s mouth, rose, and lifted Olaf. The cub didn’t move and didn’t change shape. Ronan signaled to Elizabeth to follow, and he carried the bear out of the living room and up the stairs.
The largest front room was taken by the two male cubs and held the detritus of boys of two ages: magazines, CDs, posters, toy trucks, action figures. No video games and no TV, because Shifters weren’t allowed much technology. A small computer stood in one corner, an older model. That was all.
Both beds were fairly big and very sturdy. Elizabeth saw why when Ronan laid Olaf on one. He curled up, the claws of one paw slicing the cover of the pillow. From all the rents on the pillow, he’d done that more than once.
Ronan dragged a cover over him. “If he shifts back in his sleep, he’ll get cold,” he explained. He lingered to rest his large hand on Olaf’s shoulder.
Under his touch, Olaf took a deep breath, and then shifted effortlessly back to the small boy with blue-streaked blond hair. He opened his eyes. “Lizbeth?”
“I’m right here.” Elizabeth leaned down and kissed his cheek. “Good night, Olaf.”
Olaf caught her hand in a surprisingly strong grip. “Stay.”
“She’s got to go to bed, Olaf,” Ronan said. “She’s tired.”
Olaf’s eyes took on a glint of panic Elizabeth had sometimes seen in Mabel’s when Mabel had been little. Mabel’s greatest terror had been that she’d go to sleep and wake up alone, Elizabeth gone, never to be found again. Olaf, Ronan had said, had seen his parents
Jayne Ann Krentz
Douglas Howell
Grace Callaway
James Rollins
J.L. Weil
Simon Kernick
Jo Beverley
Debra Clopton
Victoria Knight
A.M. Griffin