Page 6 of Sunshine for the Grumpy Grizzly

Wow, where didthatthought come from?

“Lucy Cole, that’s the room I’ve reserved for you.” He enunciates each word carefully.

Shivers blast through my body. Suddenly, I know I’m not gonna argue. Nope, I’m going to take the key, just like the super-hot scary mountain man told me to.

He steps out from the desk, gathers up my suitcase and the other one I was carrying, and marches toward the door.

All I can do is follow. My cheeks are burning; my body is tingling, and my gaze isfixatedon those massive shoulders of his.

3

Preston

It’s even worse than I thought it would be. Ninety percent of my concentration is going into keeping my beast inside of me. The other ten percent is focused on listening to the endless stream of whining and complaints.

The beds are not comfy.

The pillows smell of mildew.

There’s a weird stain in the bathtub.

Yada, yada, yada.

Someone just threatened to give this place the worst review in the history of the world. I told them to their face that I have no idea what the fuck they’re talking about.

I’m this close to throwing them all out, and telling them to find someplace else to have their goddamn team-building weekend. Whatever the hell that is.

And I would.

If it wasn’t forher.

Lucy Cole.

All soft golden curls, sweet round cheeks, and luscious, luscious curves.

I can’t take my eyes off her. She’s delectable. The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. When I heard that voice again—the same one that called up and made the reservation—and I saw that it belonged to her, my beastwoke up.

This has never happened to me before.

Now it’s scratching me up inside in a way that worries me.

It seems to think I’ve got a claim on her.

No fucking chance. She’s a princess and I’m more than half animal.

I just like to look at her. See her energy. The way she flits from one huddle of assholes to another, doing her best to cheer them up. Most of these assholes don’t seem to notice though. They’re too darn busy acting all entitled.

Looks like she’s taking the blame for the place being a dump. Well, it’s not her fault, and if I hear much more of this crap, I’m gonna go and tell ‘em all so. It’s squarely the fault of my grandaddy, one Jerome Wright, who liked gambling more than he cared about maintaining this “precious” family heirloom.

I’m sure glad I gave her the best room—the only good room, to be honest. It’s officially designated as the honeymoon suite. It even has a hot tub. I sure hope she gets to use it?—

All by herself!my beast snarls. Those creeps better not think of getting in there with her.

Maybe one of them is her boyfriend.

I glare at each wan human face in turn. Whichever one it is, my beast will cheerfully rip his head off and scatter his remains all over the mountain.

A snarl escapes my lips.

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