Page 99 of What a Wolf's Heart Decides

And he responded by mentioning the granola bar feast that awaited her.

There were so many other things he could have said. Should have said. He didn’t deserve her, and he could never have her, but he could have handled her better.

What a stupid, stupid thing.

But it was too late now. An awkward silence stretched between them. She had an iron grip on the blanket under her chin, her knuckles as white as the snow that fell outside.

He cleared his throat. “Right. Granola bars.”

Her smile might have convinced anyone else. But he knew better. Knew her better. Even after such a short time in her presence, he knew just about all there was to know about Haley Michaels. She was a force of nature—unstoppable and persistent. You could trample over her, uproot her, tear her down. And still she got back up, little shoots of spring stubbornly pushing through the ruin.

She was like the spring. No matter how much ice and snow the winter brought, the sun always reappeared. Even when you thought the dark and cold would never end, it always did. Always. You could always depend on the light to return.

But now the light in her eyes was missing. Its absence made him feel like the most loathsome creature to walk the earth.

He couldn’t fix things between them. They were far more broken than she knew. But maybe he could put the sunshine back in her eyes. At least for a little while.

For some reason, the back of his neck prickled. Reflex kicked in and he put a hand on his nape. “I, ah, have something to show you.”

A small smile teased at her mouth. “Besides the granola bars?”

She sought to lighten the mood, and it nearly broke his heart.

Without realized it at first, he rubbed at his sternum. Her gaze dipped there, and he caught himself and lowered his hand. Coughed into his fist. “Ah, yeah. It’s nothing special, really. I just thought you might like it.”

Skepticism played over her features, but she nodded. “Okay.”

The tingling on his nape intensified. Then it hit him.

He was nervous.

Fool. His subconscious taunted him. He ignored it, motioning for her to follow him. “Again, watch your step.” If she tripped and lost that blanket, he wasn’t sure he could keep his hands off her. As it was, images of her sitting nude before the fire flashed in his mind, her long legs tucked under her, golden skin kissed by the flames.

And those luscious breasts. Jesus, he could still taste them.

He clenched his jaw as he moved through the rows of flowers toward the back of the conservatory. The flowers grew thicker and wilder here, the blooms so large and heavy they drooped on their stems. Vines ran over and around everything, in some places so thick he had to push them aside so he and Haley could pass.

At last they reached the back wall, which was dominated by a single stained glass window with a red rose in the center. It cast pinkish light over everything, bathing the far end of the conservatory in a soft, peachy glow.

Haley stopped, an admiring gaze on the window. “It’s lovely.”

He took a moment to appreciate the striking sight she made with her head tilted back, her sky blue eyes surrounded by thick lashes and her full lips curved in a sweet smile. The blanket trailed behind her like a gown, the train snagged by thorns bearing roses. Her light brown curls rippled down her back, and the flush in her cheeks matched the window. He had to blink to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. She was a woodland goddess come to life. For a moment, he felt like a weary human who stumbled across an otherworldly court or a Faerie bower soaked in magic.

But of course he was no human. And magic didn’t live in glass conservatories full of light and roses. It lived in the darkness, in forgotten corners and blood-soaked shadows.

She turned to him. “I can see why you wanted to show me this.”

“That’s not what I wanted to show you.” As a question appeared in her eyes, he parted a thick swath of vines and gestured for her to step through.

She gave him a quizzical look but complied, ducking her head and passing under his arm.

He followed and let the vines shiver back into place behind him.

She sucked in a breath. “Is that a—”

“Sunken bath,” he finished. It was a ten foot by ten foot square in the Roman style, the whole thing lined in tile imported from Italy. Steam rose from the surface and drifted like smoke toward the glass roof high overhead.

Haley met his gaze. “You said there’s no electricity. How is it hot?”

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