With Everything I Am (The Three #2)(18)

His hand which was resting at her hip curled around her waist. His arm, already around her waist, tightened.

Thus, he brought her closer.

Her hand at his chest pressed back.

He was stronger than her but he allowed her some space, not nearly enough, but some.

“Little one, you’re holding out on me,” he said quietly, his eyes serious and not happy. “I’ll tell you only once. Don’t do that.”

She was unsure how to respond.

The fact that he knew she was holding out on him was bizarre and alarming. The fact that his eyes had grown serious and not happy was just plain alarming.

She decided to respond to the serious, not happy look in his eyes and tread very, very carefully.

But how on earth was she going to get out of this?

Oh hell, she was going to have to give him something. She hated it but she was going to have to do it.

She swallowed.

Then she blurted, “You’re very good-looking.”

His head tilted to the side with a surprised jerk.

She ignored that and carried on.

“I thought,” her voice cracked and she cleared her throat, “I was in a dream. I’ve always been…” She paused, pulled in breath then hurried on in a rush, “Once, when I was a little girl, I met this wolf.” His head jerked upright and she watched with concern as his eyes grew intense. “It’s okay,” she assured him, misreading his look. “I was going to mention, I’ve always been really good with animals. He was injured but he wasn’t dangerous. He let me help him.”

“Sonia –” Callum started but she talked over him.

“When I met him, I brought him here, the wolf that is. And… and, I liked this wolf. He was a beautiful wolf. I’d seen wolves before out in the woods with my father, but never one like him. He was huge and he had this dignity…” She paused again, realizing she was veering off track and then continued, “Anyway, he made an impression on me. I’ve never forgotten him and I think, being in what I thought was a dream, seeing you here in this cabin and the last time I was here I met that wolf, for some reason, because of him, I used that as an endearment.” She sucked in breath through her nose then said, “So there, that’s why I called you ‘wolf’.”

And that didn’t sound like a lie. In fact, she was pretty pleased with herself and, maybe, that was why she called her dream Callum “wolf” too, who knew?

When she’d stopped congratulating herself, she focused on his face. Then she sucked in another breath.

His face was warm and gentle and, she was shocked to see, his eyes weren’t blue, they were tawny.

Oh wow.

She told herself, firmly, she didn’t like it when his eyes went golden (but she did).

Anyway, how did he do that?

“What?” she whispered, forgetting her travails when his eyes were like that but his hand slid up her back to her neck, his fingers cupped her there and he forced her head to his shoulder.

“Nothing, little one,” he murmured but his voice was warm and gentle too.

She took another deep breath and told herself his big, warm body didn’t feel great cradling hers (which it did) and his deep, warm, gentle voice rumbling in her ear didn’t sound wonderful (which it also did). Then she reminded herself that she was in a frightening situation, sitting in the lap of a large, strong albeit handsome man who was likely dangerous and not her dream man (even though he was, in a way).

She screwed up the courage to start talking about what she wanted to talk about.

“I want to go home,” she told his collarbone.

“You can’t, honey, not for a while,” was his scary response.

“I want to go home,” she repeated.

“You need to stay with me. When this is over, I don’t know where we’ll settle. We’ll talk about it when that happens.”

When what was over?

And…

He didn’t know where they’d settle?

What was he on about?

She didn’t care and she wasn’t going to ask.

Instead, softly she enquired, “Callum, how much for you to take me home?”

“Honey, you can’t go home,” he reiterated.

“I’ll give you a million dollars.”

She held her breath and waited.

He was silent.

Oh no. Had she gone too high too fast? Or would he get angry knowing she’d low-balled him. She was, he had to know since she was his mark, seriously loaded.

While these thoughts flitted through her brain she felt his body shaking under hers.

She lifted her head and saw he was smiling. The shaking of the body was him silently laughing.

“I wasn’t being funny,” she told him, losing patience.

“You think I’ve kidnapped you,” he told her.

Her mouth dropped open (again).

“Sorry?” she asked after she’d closed it.

His head tipped down and he nuzzled his temple against hers in that tender way she told herself she hated (when she absolutely didn’t) before saying, “Baby doll, I haven’t kidnapped you.”

All of a sudden she was angry because he called her “baby doll” and the fact that this man, in real life, did that was the worst cosmic joke of all.

Maybe this made her stupid, but she didn’t care.