Page 27 of The Alpha and His Enemy Wolf
He shrugged. “Sure, if you want to give it a go.”
“I do.”
“Okay, let’s sign up.” He took her arm and led her inside.
A flicker of excitement rose with him touching her that way. The instructor booked them into two slots for the nine o’clock class, so they had a half-an-hour to kill. As they walked throughout the village, she peered inside the pubs and restaurants. People all seemed to be enjoying themselves, drinking or dining with others. A twinge of guilt rose in her since she planned to destroy the businesses here. But was spending time with loved ones such an offense? It was what she’d do back with the pack, just in a different venue. They didn’t have restaurants, but meeting houses where they’d gather or outdoors if the weather was pleasant.
Once they returned to the paint studio, they walked over to a more private table set for two in the back corner. Mila stepped before a blank white canvas and followed the instructions to get paints. She placed them near the paintbrushes, lined up from fat to thin near her canvas.
Rafe’s setup mirrored hers, and he sat opposite her. He ordered a couple of glasses of merlot and a plate of cheese and crackers to nibble on. Several others milled about the room as well, setting up to paint at their canvases on tables covered with white paper.
The instructor led them through steps to paint a version of a mountain beneath the moon and stars, similar to that of Franconia Mountain. She encouraged them to be creative and modify the painting as they wished. As Mila swished the different colors and paints over her canvas, she got into it. It wasn’t just fun, it was calming. She had a few blissful moments out of her head, not worrying about the conflicts between the packs, her agenda for her father, or the distress caused by the clash between her wolf’s desires and her own. She simply escaped into the painting and it felt wonderful.
Occasionally, she and Rafe would exchange glances around their canvases, which she’d admit were a bit flirtatious. Each time she glanced into his intense eyes, she lost focus as her body simmered with awareness.
“Stop distracting me,” she teased.
“I did no such thing,” he countered with a grin. “You keep looking at me.” He placed a hand on his chest and put on a mock serious expression. “You’re pulling me from my art by dazzling me with those inquisitive eyes.”
She laughed. A heady buzz rushed through her. “Fine. No more peeking until we’re done.”
They didn’t have much time left since the instructor had given the basic steps and encouraged them to finish with their own flair. Mila dipped the smallest paintbrush into a pale yellow and dabbed it in tiny spots all over her dark blue sky to finish her painting, illuminating it with light.
When Rafe declared he was finished, she stepped around to see his. He’d painted the moon as a massive, golden, and full.
“That’s quite a statement,” she pointed out. “It’s the focal point of your painting.” Fitting for a wolf. His mountain was covered with white, like it had just been blanketed by fresh snow while she’d painted hers covered in various greens to represent trees.
“Let’s see yours.” He stood and walked over behind her easel. “Look at all the stars in yours. Interesting.”
“I like to stare up at them at night.” She positioned their paintings so they were side-by-side. “Fascinating, huh?”
“Meaning?” Rafe prodded.
“Look how we’ve both painted the same mountain, but have a different view.” She looked from one and then the other.
Rafe stepped behind her. She was keenly aware of him standing so close to her.
When he snaked a hand around her waist, she sucked in a breath. Heat simmered beneath her skin, and her chest fell and rose at a quicker pace.
“You’re right,” he murmured, bending down to almost nuzzling her ear. “There’s nothing I like more than skiing on the mountain or hunting on the forests of it beneath a full moon.”
Her eyes fluttered half-closed. Having him hold her that way affected her in a way she’d never experienced. Her wolf practically clawed inside with need, reflecting the desire that now coursed through Mila’s veins.
The instructor came over, and they pulled apart quickly as if caught in an intimate moment.
The woman glanced at their paintings. “These are wonderful. So many similarities and yet such fascinating differences. And that’s what makes them each unique.”
Mila exchanged a glance with Rafe. With all the differences between them, that could apply to more than just their paintings.
Yet, there was beauty in both their paintings. Could there be positive aspects to their different lifestyles as well? If so, maybe she was misguided in her attempt to destroy him. Why couldn’t two packs live their own way beneath the same sky?
Rafe
After Rafe walked with Mila from the paint studio, each carrying their canvas, he took slow breaths to regroup. When he’d wrapped one arm around Mila inside, he could scarcely think. He’d never wanted anyone as much as he wanted her. It took all of his self-control not to turn her in his arms and kiss her senseless right there.
Couples and small families walked through the village. The vintage-style street lamps cast a magical glow over the snow-covered paths. An ache stirred within him. That was what Rafe wanted—to walk here with his mate and eventually with their family. Was there a snowball’s chance in a fiery hell of that happening with Mila?
As they approached the hotel, a sense of dread filled him. He didn’t want to leave her yet.
