Page 11 of Loving the Lion

“Thank you. I appreciate your kindness.” She still tried to hide herself from his view, her hands clasped around her naked body, acting like a virgin nun.

“You would appreciate my lust more,” he replied as he walked from the room without a backward glance.

Sally’s breath left her in a rush as she watched Bachar walk out the door. What had just happened? Had he really found her desirable? Sally stood there shaking, not knowing what to do once he left. Her insides felt like they had been set on fire, her attraction to the man was so great. She bit her lip, wondering if she had just passed up the greatest opportunity in her life. How many times did a woman like her get to see a lion shifter in all his glory?

She sank back down in the still hot water and reached for the sponge on the side. Her mind still in a whirl, she chose one of the many scented soaps sitting on the edge of the tub, smiling at the luxurious glide of the expensive liquid on her skin. Rinsing off quickly, she stood, grabbing the bath sheet from the rack near the tub. She groaned when she realized they were heated. Sorry that she had to hurry, she dried off and reached for her clothing.

Clothing that had gotten very wet.

“Well, damn,” she muttered, realizing it must have happened when she’d dove under the water trying to hide herself from Bachar’s prying eyes. She wrapped the towel around her body and got out of the tub, hoping she’d packed more clothing than she remembered.

She hadn’t. She was now faced with the choice of wearing dirty underwear or wet underwear. She also discovered that not only was her clean shirt wet, the one she’d just taken off had also gotten splashed. Now, what the heck was she supposed to do? Go parading around in front of him like a wet t-shirt contestant. Or…spotting Bachar’s discarded shirt she picked it up and was immediately overwhelmed by his scent. She pressed it against her nose, inhaling deeply. Damn, but the man’s shirt even smelled like sex.

Knowing there was nothing else she could do, she put on the pair of jeans she’d just taken off—going command—before pulling his shirt over her head. Immediately, she felt a sense of completeness wash over her.

Bachar was waiting for her just as he said he would be. A moment of doubt had entered her mind as she’d finished her bath and dressed. He owed her nothing really. She and Nick were on shaky ground. Her brother had traveled into shifter territory without permission, and she had followed him. Also, without permission.

He was standing at the bank of windows, looking out as she had earlier. She walked toward him, knowing that he saw her approach in the reflection of the glass. Their eyes met through their reflections. She stopped a few feet away, suddenly unsure of herself and the hunger still blazing in his eyes.

“You are beautiful.”

His voice was low and deep and shot an arrow of need straight to her pussy. She had to bite her lip to keep back a moan.

Instinctively, she crossed her arms over her unfettered breasts, her nipples hardening at the desire racing through her. Were all shifters this dangerous to a woman’s virtue? “I’d rather you didn’t do that.”

His eyes narrowed, chasing away the warmth she had just seen in them. “Do what?”

“Flirt with me.” She stopped a few feet away from him, her arms still wrapped around her body. She cursed the fact that she hadn’t put on her still damp bra.

He turned away from the window, and she was suddenly the entire focus of his attention. She looked at him and every muscle in her body tensed with desire. A desire so primitive that she wanted to leap across the space that separated them, straight into his arms.

He walked forward as if he too could feel the undeniable draw. Or should she say, he stalked toward her, the characteristics of his cat much closer to the surface than they had been only a moment ago. He stopped abruptly when a knock sounded on the door. He continued to look at her for one brief moment before he walked away to answer it.

A waiter pushing a room service cart was on the other side. Sally waited by the window as the two men exchanged greetings.

“Come, you need to eat.” Bachar pushed the cart past her, stopping by one of the large couches. “Come.” He barked out the order again when she didn’t move.

With great reluctance, she walked forward and took a seat on the opposite couch. Without asking if she wanted any, he uncorked the bottle of wine that had been delivered with the food and poured her a glass. Next, he uncovered the food. She didn’t know what she’d expected under all those fancy, silver domes, but it certainly wasn’t the pile of sandwiches, chips, pickle spears, and potato salad. Again, without asking, he passed her a plate piled high with food.

For a moment, she considered refusing just out of stubbornness. Highhanded men tended to piss her off. And there was no one more highhanded she was beginning to discover, than a lion shifter. The loud growl her stomach gave decided for her. She took the plate and leaned back against the couch, tucking her legs up beneath her. He frowned at her, and she questioned if she’d done something wrong.

He rose from his seat and came towards her, a dark frown upon his face. He leaned over her and for a brief—very excited—moment, she thought he was going to kiss her. And she wanted it. Oh, lordy, lordy, how she wanted it. She braced herself, her breath caught in her lungs as he…reached for the damn cover on the back of the couch and spread it across her lap.

“You looked cold.” His lips curved into a smile as if he knew exactly what she had been thinking. And hoping.

He turned and walked back to the other couch, the muscles of his ass bunching and releasing. She wondered what he would do if she reached out and gave his buns of steel a squeeze—or threw half of her roast beef sandwich at his backside.

They ate in silence for several moments, anxiety quickly robbing Sally of her hunger and she sat her plate aside and picked up her wine glass. He’d downed several sandwiches as she’d nibbled on her plate of food. She knew from her experience with her brother that shifting expended a lot of energy. And if he had been in his animal form for the last several hours, no doubt he was starving.

Again, without asking, he filled a plate with an assortment of desserts that had been provided and brought them to her. Instead of handing them to her and moving away as he had before, he took a seat next to her.

“A wolf pack reported a lost hiker.”

“They did?” Sally straightened in her seat, sitting down the half empty glass of wine on the side table and turning towards him. “Was it him? Was it my brother?”

“It would appear so.” Once they had received the message and been assured of the boy’s well-being, he and Tarek had turned around. The snow had deepened making travel dangerous, and Bachar’s lion had immediately started protesting being away from Sally.

“Oh, Bachar.” She couldn’t prevent her next action. She launched herself against him, throwing her arms around his neck and squeezing him tight. He managed to catch her with one arm and still keep the plate of sweets from falling to the floor. He also managed to turn her and the next thing she knew she was sitting on his lap, her arms still locked around his neck. The cover he’d placed on her early had fallen to the floor, so she was basically laid out before him, a banquet ready to be devoured, just like the food on the coffee table.