Page 34 of Into the Lion's Den (Secrets of the Northland Shifters)

I plucked a stalk of straw from one of her long, light brown locks and held it up to show her. “Now let’s get back to my question.”

“If you’re not talking about wild animals, how is exploring resort property a death wish?”

“Have you looked in the mirror?” I let my gaze descend her body, every luscious curve of it. The temptation was getting too much to bear, and Angel’s question was far too loud.Why don’t you just sleep with her and get her out of your system?

She drew in a shaky breath as the scent of her adrenaline intensified in the air. “What?”

“Your clothes.”

When I looked up, her cheeks were red and her jaw was set. She’d gone from flight to fight in the blink of an eye. “Please tell me this isn’t going to be another misogynistic censure of my clothing. It’s a fucking sweater, Reese.”

It was a fucking sweater. A fucking sweater that fit her curves to perfection, but that wasn’t the point I was trying to make. “I’m talking about the colors.”

She screwed up her face. “You don’t like black and green?”

“Jesus.” I took a step back and raked my hand through my hair—I still hadn’t gotten it cut—and wondered why my father had thought it a good idea to hire someone so unaccustomed to the wilds.

Or…had he, like Sam, known that Sarah was exactly my type? Wasthatwhy she was here? I only considered the possibility for half a second, because the idea was ridiculous. My father would never do me dirty like that.

“You’re wearing muted earth-tone colors in the woods,” I explained.

“And?”

“You’re practically in camouflage, and we make sure our guests wear blaze-orange vests when they go hiking. You’re lucky a poacher didn’t hear you trudging through the trees and mistake you for wild game.”

At that, her skin paled. Maybe—just maybe—she was finally clueing in. “I didn’t realize it was hunting season.”

“It’s not.” I stepped closer again while still leaving a foot of space between us. “But not every hunter plays by the rules.”

Sarah let out a sigh, and the remnants of whatever terror she’d been hanging on to leaked out of her. She leaned closer, the small movement barely detectible. “I’m an idiot.”

Breath caught in my lungs, for a moment taken aback by her proximity. I wanted to pull her close and stroke the back of her head, letting the silky strands of her hair slide through my fingers.

“You’re not an idiot,” I said while the cat purred inside my mind.

“Thank god you came when you did. If I wasn’t going to be accidentally killed by a hunter, then that mountain lion would have done it on purpose.”

I clenched my teeth, wishing I could tell her the truth, imagining what it would be like if she wasn’t human. A female fae, for example, wouldn’t blink an eye at learning I was a shifter.

“Listen, Sarah. About before. About Charlie.”

She tipped her head back to look up at me with those wide gray eyes. “You’re just stressed about the business. I get it.”

“There’s more to it than that.” A whole lot more. “That day in the first-aid closet, I promised to protect you.”

She winced. “Punching your clients is a little extreme.”

“That was actually me showing restraint, and if anyone tried to really hurt you—truly hurt you—I wouldn’t hold back.”

She blinked once, and her lips parted as she drew in a breath. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying they wouldn’t be breathing.”

It was blunt. But it was honest. The protective urges I’d felt last night had gone well beyond employer to employee. I wasn’t ready to admit to myself what the lion had been telling me from the beginning—that Sarah was something more than just a sexually tempting woman—but at least I could assure her that she was safe with me.

Still, I expected my blunt brutality to elicit more protests from her. More disgust.

Instead, tears coated her eyes and she whispered, “Promise?”

---