Page 153 of Evil Hearts

“I’m not sure what I see. That’s upsetting for a woman known for her good eye, for getting the perfect shot,” she teases. “As for no one believing me… You walk around in the open, Mr. Frobisher,” her tongue twirls and rolls the name, and my insides are caught in the whirlpool, wishing that tongue was tangled with mine. “Whatever is so unbelievable about you can’t be seen by most people—is that right?”

“You’re so beautiful. So talented. So smart,” I grunt, grinding my knuckles against my hip to keep from grabbing her.

“So I’m right?”

“Yes,” I hiss, the confession pulled from me without any torture save the sweet mischief in her eyes.

“Shall we play a little truth or dare?” Fia’s eyes sparkle with excitement in the dim light of my spacious room with its king-size bed. “If you tell me the truth, I’ll accept a dare.”

My hands uncurl and splay, fingers rigid as the fire in me floods to one spot. Yetis have superheated blood meant to keep us warm and ready for our mates when we’re using up a lot of energy just to survive in the frozen mountains. I can be a gentleman. I’ll ask for a truth instead. “Can’t I pick truth?” I challenge, surprised to hear how low and gritty my voice has become.

Fia doesn’t seem to mind. She nods, then licks her lips. (Is everything she does meant to tempt me?) “What are you, really?”

“You call us yetis,” I whisper.

There’s no screaming. No running. She just looks at me expectantly.

“Well? Aren’t you going to ask me?” she asks.

“Oh! Yes. Um. Why… Why did you come back to my room tonight? Was it just for a meal?” That’s half-gentlemanly, at least. I’m still waiting for her to come out of her shock, throw the hotel’s complimentary chocolate sampler at me, and run.

“Because I felt… something. Almost a physical pull.” She pulls empty air with her fist, bringing her hand back to thump squarely between her breasts as her hips push forward.

“I felt it, too. I felt it the second I saw your picture all those years ago.”

She beams at me, showing she still has one deep dimple, a little perfectly imperfect dot on her flawless body. “That’s funny. Even just a photograph, hm?”

“I guess. I’ve never heard of someone falling in love with a photograph before, but then again… My kind is ancient. Photographs are recent in comparison.”

“Falling in love?” Her eyebrows shoot into two surprised curves, and I feel the shock in her voice like a physical blow.

“Oh, just an expression, I guess.” I start to lie, then remember we’re supposed to be telling the truth.

I guess that’s how I look at it,” I mumble. “My people don’t usually date. They match. Hard and fast.” Match sounds a little better than mate.

Fia nods. “It’s my turn, isn’t it?”

“If we’re still playing?”

“Maybe a few more rounds.” She crosses her arms in front of her chest. “Do you believe in fate? Or destiny?”

“Not in all things, just the big ones. Sometimes fate can make you lazy. I believe in hard work.” I want to show Fia exactly how hard I can work—starting with pleasing her.

“Your go,” she whispers, swallowing hard enough that I can hear the soft click of her throat muscles.

“Why aren’t you freaking out and running away? Or calling me a hairy ugly monster?” I steel myself for her answer. Curiosity. Wanting to get photographs of a new “specimen.” I can’t believe she’d act like that, but I can’t believe what my heart is hinting at, either.

That shecouldbe my mate.

“I have been all over the world. I’ve seen things that I cannot explain, especially in the deserts and the mountains, the woods and caves. One thing that I have always thought was interesting is how there are myths about certain creatures all over the world. Nearly every culture has something like a yeti, or a werewolf, or a vampire. My grandmother is very religious, very superstitious. She taught me to believe in angels and demons. Why not other beings that aren’t human?” Fia steps closer to me, bringing the dainty little toes of her sneakers up to my massive gunboats. “And what do you mean, ugly?” She wrinkles her nose and jabs her fingers into my chest, four of them pointed out over her thumb as if an irate duck is poking me. “Why do you think I took pictures of you all night? Ay? I could show you my shots of the exhibition game. Every other picture is of you. With that handsome smile, one minute so deadly, one minute so cute and sweet! And the way you slice through the opposing players…. Those shoulders.” Her voice fades. The scent coming from her is stronger than ever, and there is no mistaking it now.

“I could never hope to have a mate as beautiful as you,” I whisper, clasping her hand as it rests on my torso. “I know that—and you don’t realize it, but yetis don’t hook up for one night. If I have you once—I’m going to want you forever, over and over. So…” I allow myself to grip her shoulders.

She’s so soft. So soft, but she doesn’t squish in my hands like my worst nightmares tease. She stays there, warm and wide-eyed, looking up at me, waiting for me to finish my sentence. “So, I dare you to leave unless you want to wind up with a huge, non-human hockey player madly in love with you.”

My world stops spinning for a minute as she stays there, silent and still in my grasp.

Then the world crashes and burns, pulling my heart into the flames as she nods and walks away, heading to the door of my hotel room.

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