And I step out, still rock-hard with my mate’s tantalizing scent filling my nose, but determined to care for her as only a mate can.
5
DELILAH
“Iwas sure you’d run,” Malakhi calls out with his back to me as he stands in front of a stove in a snug kitchenette.
Savory meat and spices meld to create a delicious aroma that makes my stomach grumble.
While I was in the bathroom, he pulled on a pair of black sweatpants, though he didn’t bother with a shirt. He’s a stranger—a werewolf—who threatened to chase me down if I ran from him. And yet, throughout my thirty-minute shower, I couldn’t stop thinking about him cooking me a meal.
Naked.
I cross over to the dining table in the simple, rustic cabin and sink into one of the two wooden chairs facing each other. I’m cozy and warm in a pair of gray sweatpants and a matching oversize sweatshirt I dug out of the dresser.
Both smell like him. I’m not ready to admit how I knew he’d worn them before or why I was so drawn to wear them and not the other sweats that would have fit me better.
I eye the spoon in front of me and then his bare, muscled back. How much damage could I do with a spoon? “You want me to run so you’d have a reason to chase me.”
Snorting, he peers over his shoulder, notices my sweatshirt, and one corner of his lips kicks up in a crooked smile.
My kidnapper is more attractive than he has a right to be. And I should not be finding him attractive. I should be doing everything possible to escape him. He looked like he was envisioning killing Levi earlier, so maybe my warm feelings toward him are because of that.
“That isn’t the only reason you didn’t run. You’re curious,” he says, turning back to stir the contents of a big metal pot with a wooden spoon.
I am curious. Mostly about my dad. I haven’t thought about him in years. Now I wonder what happened to him and what’s going to happen to me, too.
Malakhi is positive I’ll change into a wolf, but I can’t see that happening. I don’t feel any different from before Jerry stabbed me. “You could have taken me to the hospital when you found me in the alley instead of bringing me here.”
“Wouldn’t have made it,” he says, stirring something that smells so good it’s making me salivate.
“And you know this how?” I give up planning my escape using my spoon.
I guess when you can turn into a wolf in seconds, someone attacking you from behind isn’t something you have to fear.
He pulls two large bowls from a cupboard on his left. “I sniffed you.”
“You did what?”
He glances over his shoulder. “Death has a smell. And your nose can tell you so many other interesting things.”
His expression doesn’t change, but my cheeks flush, and I yank my gaze from his. He licked my throat in the bedroom, and he seemed to know I liked it. How else could he have known if he hadn’t been using his nose?
Thankfully, he doesn’t comment on that lick as his footsteps move toward me.
A large white bowl damn-near overflowing with chili appears in front of me. My eyes widen at the size of the serving. It’s like one of those family-size dishes in restaurants where everyone helps themselves. “I won’t eat all this.”
A family of four wouldn’t be able to eat all this.
He picks up my spoon and hands it to me. “You will.”
After a moment, I take the spoon, so I don’t have him standing over me. He doesn’t just look good to me; he smells it too.
I observe him as he carries his gigantic serving of chili to the seat opposite. “You killed Jerry.”
He takes two big mouthfuls, swallows, and nods. “Yup.”
And then he goes right back to eating.