Page 14 of Lion's Little Scamp

“Words, little scamp,” Harrigan said with just a touch of authority in his voice. “Anytime I ask a question, I expect a verbal answer.”

“Yes, Sir. Class was all right, I guess. At least I don’t have homework.”

Harrigan chuckled as he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her in a gentle embrace. “You look tired.”

Irish nodded with a sigh as she leaned into Harrigan’s big body. “It was a long morning.”

She took another deep breath, breathing in the spicy scent that was all Harrigan. It helped unknot the muscles across her shoulders, which had been tense all morning.

“Let’s get you some lunch and then we’ll see how you feel after. If need be, I’ll get you out of your chores this afternoon so you can go home and take a nap.”

Irish tilted her head back and looked up at him. “You can do that?”

He met her gaze with a confident smile. “I’m not sure, but I can try. But having lunch might help revive you.”

“I am hungry,” Irish admitted as her stomach gave a long, rumbly growl.

“You certainly are. Come on, let’s have lunch before your stomach decides to take a bite out of me.”

“Yes, Sir,” Irish agreed.

Harrigan released her and stepped back, forcing her to stand on her own two feet. But when he held out his hand, she did not hesitate to lay hers on top of it. He twisted his palm underneath hers and laced their fingers together. Then, without any further conversation, he led her down the stairs and out of the building.

Irish was stunned by how easy she felt with Harrigan. She had never felt so comfortable with any man before. Well, maybe Sailor, but she looked on the military veteran as more of a father figure than a possible lover. But with Harrigan, she could not see him in anything but a romantic light. Even holding hands felt sensual, their fingers intertwining the way she could only imagine their bodies might, which made her feel hot and dizzy with arousal.

When they reached the dining hall, she stopped him before they got into the line for the buffet. When he looked down at her, she lifted a hand and curled a finger in a “come closer” motion. He leaned close enough that she could whisper in his ear without worrying that anyone else would hear her.

“I need to use the restroom and wash my hands.”

“Of course, you do. I should have thought of that. It’s over there,” he said, pointing behind her. “Do you want me to go with you?”

“No. I’m a big girl and can go by myself,” she said, stunned that he would make such an offer.

“All right, but hurry back. And don’t forget to wash your hands,” Harrigan said with a smirk.

Harrigan could not help but chuckle as Irish hurried across the dining room to the restrooms. He waited until she disappeared behind the door before he followed her, stalking toward the door and planting himself just outside. He hoped it wouldn’t be long before she would accept his company when making such a trip, but expected it would take time.

It was nearly impossible to let her out of his sight now. Once they were fully mated, he hoped that would ease, but watching Lonergan, Diego, and Kodiak with their mates he had his doubts.

It was only a few minutes before Irish emerged, wiping her hands on her thighs. She jumped when she found him standing just outside, watching the door. “Oh, you scared me.”

He did not speak, just took her cool, still-damp, hand in his and walked her back across the floor to the end of the line for the buffet. He moved her so she would go before him. After handing her a tray, he forced himself to allow her to choose her own lunch.

The problem was, she didn’t. She moved through the line slowly, wide-eyed and licking her lips in anticipation. Her stomach growled again, loudly, but still she did not put anything on her tray.

When she moved past the main course without taking anything, Harrigan knew he had to step in and help.

“Scamp, I know you’re hungry. What’s wrong?” He kept his voice soft and as gentle as he could, his heart hurting when she dropped her head to stare at her tray and hunched her shoulders. Did she think he was going to hit her or something?

Taking a breath to keep from growling at whoever had hurt his mate, he continued. “Irish, talk to me, please,” he said, gently laying a hand on her shoulder.

She flinched when he said her name, but did not pull away.

“Look at me, scamp.”

She turned her face to him, but stared at his chin and not into his eyes.

“What’s going on, little one?”

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