Page 5 of Lion's Little Scamp

“Stop. Breathe. Calm yourself,” the polar bear shifted said with heavy hands holding his shoulders. “You don’t want to rush in there and scare the newbies.”

Though he wanted to knock Kodiak out of his way, Harrigan took the bigger shifter’s advice. Taking deep breaths, he worked to settle himself once again. The faint scent of sugar and vanilla swirling around the porch set his inner lion to pacing. It took another minute of slow, deep breaths before he looked at the shifter blocking his way.

“I’m okay now,” he said.

Kodiak studied him for a moment before stepping aside and allowing Harrigan to pass.

Stepping into the dining room, Harrigan stopped for a moment to scan the room. The other two trainees were nowhere in sight. Apparently, they had already eaten and been claimed by their guardians. His mate was sitting alone in the middle of the room.

She had a tray in front of her that held a glass of water and a small plate of food, but she was not eating. Her hands were knotted together in her lap as she glanced around the room, her brows pinched in uncertainty.

Harrigan quickly went through the line, filling his tray with two plates full of food. He filled two glasses with milk then walked to where his mate sat, now staring at her plate as she licked her lips. Why wasn’t she eating?

Then he looked at her tray and frowned. Her plate held a single slice of ham, and about a tablespoon of potatoes. Not nearly enough. Her stomach growled again, but still she made no move to eat.

Harrigan set his tray on the table before asking, “May I join you?”

Chapter Four

The combination of stress, exhaustion and fear held Irish firmly in its grip. She had been sitting at this table alone for more than ten minutes, waiting for someone to tell her what was to happen next. Her food was cold, and though she was used to eating cold food, she had hoped things were finally looking up for her here. But apparently not.

The other two girls had sat together, had eaten their dinners, and had left with their guardians already. And here she sat, alone, and unclaimed.

Irish frowned at her plate, wishing she had the guts to eat without waiting for permission. But she had learned over the years that permission was needed for everything. The last thing she needed tonight was to be cuffed upside the head for eating before she was allowed, no matter how much her stomach was complaining.

“May I join you?” A deep voice with a touch of an accent she could not name broke through her brooding thoughts.

Looking up she sucked a small breath. The golden god from earlier was asking to sit with her.

“Um, sure, if you want to,” she said quickly.

He sat down then frowned at her tray. “You haven’t eaten yet?”

“Not yet.” Way to state the obvious, Irish.

“It’s probably cold.”

She shrugged and tried to downplay his statement of the obvious. “I got the impression I shouldn’t eat without my guardian, but he hasn’t shown up yet. I didn’t want to be rude. Are you my guardian?”

“Yes, little scamp, I have that honor. Which means I will be responsible for you, I will administer punishments for naughty behavior, and will celebrate accomplishments with you.”

“Oh. Okay.”

For a moment, Irish was not sure how she would deal with being around this beautiful man every day for the next thirty days, but she would figure it out. Her lack of excited response apparently disturbed him.

“Don’t you want me to be your guardian?”

Again, she shrugged, not sure how to answer his question. Just looking at him aroused her, causing her nipples to bead and her pussy to clench, which had never happened with any man before. She dropped her gaze once again to her plate and sighed at the sight of her sad, cold food.

“Look at me please,” the golden god ordered gently.

Lifting her gaze, she met his warm golden-brown gaze and sucked in a breath. Hoping she wouldn’t get knocked out of her chair, she asked, “What’s your name, sir? The director never said before.”

His smile turned him from god-like to over the top gorgeous. “My name is Harrigan Jones, scamp. Now, how about you give me that plate, and you eat this one that’s hot and has enough food to get you through till morning. And here’s a glass of milk.”

Without argument, Irish handed her plate over and accepted one that had enough food piled on it to last her three days

“I’m not sure I’ll be able to eat all this,” she admitted softly even as she picked up her fork.

---