I tell myself it’s the cooling sweat that makes me grow cold.
But…she was lost for a whole night. On my mountain. Where any number of creatures could’ve attacked her.
The concern that lances me makes my jaw tighten.
Then a different kind of sound makes my fury build even higher. Her small belly is growling like a pissed-off bear.
I stand, cross to the counter, and bring back a tray. Deer stew, thick bread, and a jar of water. I set it on her lap with a thump. “Eat.”
Her brows lift. “You think feeding me makes up for?—”
“Eat,” I repeat, voice harder. “Before your belly eats itself. And listen close. First rule: you stay inside. Always. You set one toe past that door without me, you’ll regret it.”
Her glare sharpens. “You can’t keep me locked in like a?—”
“Rabbit.” My mouth twists. “That’s exactly what you are.”
Her cheeks blaze red. She looks away, then blurts, “How tall are you?”
The question blindsides me. My head jerks, and for the first time in too many years, a laugh claws up my throat. Rough, unused.
She stares, wide-eyed, like she didn’t mean to say it, like she wants to claw the words back.
“Six-eight,” I tell her, letting the truth rumble low. “Two-eighty-five. All of it solid muscle. Can go for hours without breaking a sweat. Remember that.”
Her blush deepens, crawling down her throat. She grabs the bread just to have something to do, bites too fast. Her gaze flicks over me, quick, then away.
Heat sparks under my skin.
“Big deal,” she mutters.
“Yeah,” I say, stepping closer, letting her see exactly how big. “It is.”
Her eyes climb up and down my body, lingering on my crotch. Then her breath stutters. The plate wobbles in her lap. For a second, the air between us hums with something sharp, electric.
Then she fucking ruins it.
“My ex says anything more than one-forty-five is unhealthy.”
The words slice clean through.
I freeze. Blood goes hot, fast, ugly.
“First rule,” I growl. “You don’t talk about another man while you’re under my roof. Unless I ask specific questions that require you to mention him. Is that understood?”
Her eyes spark, chin tipping up. “And if I don’t agree?”
My nostrils flare. I lower my voice to a dangerous rumble. “Then I’ll put you back over my knee again. Beginning to think you like it there.”
Her breath hitches and her thighs press tight together, just once, before she glares harder. “You wouldn’t dare.”
I step closer. Slow. Deliberate. Her shoulders tense, lips parting, eyes darting down to my hands like she knows exactly what they’re capable of.
“Try me,” I whisper.
She squirms, blush flooding her skin. Then she snaps, “You’re insane.”
Maybe I am.
