Rolling over, Micah opened his eyes. He’d dragged his body back to bed and dozed without even realizing he’d done so. The female’s scent reached him, even this far away. She had to be doing something to make her scent stronger. Bathing? Exercising in her room? Either way, it had been her scent that pulled him out of sleep.
Just like Gareth to put an unmated female close enough for him to smell her when he first woke. Shaking his head at his friend’s eternal matchmaking, Micah chuckled. Gareth might not have been sure she was one of them, but he hadn’t hesitated in trying to capture Micah’s interest in the female. He also didn’t seem too worried about finding a mate of his own.
Micah sobered then, knowing that Gareth didn’t believe any female would want him. He’d been one of the first victims of his former Alpha’s illness. Curtis had allowed a “first blood” challenge to get out of hand. As a result, Gareth had been permanently blinded in his right eye and had scarring on the right side of his face.
Micah had offered to send him to a plastic surgeon though Gareth had refused everything but the offer of a job at the lodge. He wore a patch over his sightless eye when there were human guests at the lodge. When the guests were mostly shifters, he simply disappeared to his own cabin.
Micah stretched, feeling his muscles and sinews protesting slightly after his midnight romp. It felt good. Throwing back the lightweight fleece blanket on his bed, he got to his feet. Stretching again, he raised his hands high over his head, feeling his shoulders and spine pop. He dropped his arms, shaking them as he padded naked into the bathroom.
Stepping into his shower, he turned the water on fully. The blast of cold water caused him to inhale sharply and he exhaled in relief as the water heated. When he felt sufficiently clean and awake, he shut off the water, wrapping a towel around his waist before flipping the weather radio in the bathroom on. He listened with rapt attention as he dried off and combed through his hair.
The forecast called for more snow later in the afternoon with blowing gusts and wind chills of at least ten below zero. Being prepared for the weather wasn’t just good business, it could mean survival. Micah thought about the white world outside as he braided his hair.
Dressing casually in a pair of well broken-in polypropylene long johns and comfortably faded jeans, Micah shoved his feet into his ancient moccasins before pulling on a formfitting long-sleeved polypropylene shirt. He planned to go outside after breakfast so the shirt and long johns would be the first layer. Flipping his braid over his shoulder, he started down the back stairs.
Gareth looked up from the newspaper and his seat at the counter as Micah entered the kitchen. The coffee had just finished, so Micah poured for both of them. Taking a bracing sip, Micah started pulling things out of the industrial-sized refrigerator, glancing at Gareth when he cleared his throat.
“I called Luke from the rez this morning and we picked up the truck and your tarp. The truck’s in the big garage.” Gareth paused briefly then continued. “Listen, if you don’t need me I thought I’d take off and do some ice fishing.”
“Sure. I’m not planning any runs in the immediate future. In fact, I’m hoping not to do any ever again.” Micah turned, sensing that Gareth studied him closely.
“You’re serious about quitting? About being here full time?”
“I’m totally serious. I’m tired of being a hunter. I’d rather kick back here. When do you plan to take off?”
“Probably later this week. Thanks, Micah. I won’t be gone more than a few days.”
Gareth wouldn’t meet his eyes. Micah wondered if he was really going fishing or if there was something else going on in his friend’s head. He’d heard rumors the last time he’d been home about Gareth crossing the Canadian border, meeting with Packs there. There had also been reports of new wolf activity in that area-wolves of the canine variety, not shifters.
He listened intently as Gareth filled him in on the incoming guests they were expecting. Micah put a tray of biscuits in the oven then poured each of them a fresh cup of coffee as they discussed some cosmetic repairs to one of the cabins.
Micah glanced up just after he pulled the biscuits out of the oven. He’d heard his guest moving around and wondered if she’d join them for breakfast. She hadn’t appeared by the time he put the food on the table, so they sat down to eat without her.
When they were through, the two men cleaned the kitchen, then Gareth took off toward his own cabin. Micah watched him trudging along the freshly shoveled path, head down and hands stuffed into the pockets of his parka.
Micah spoke quietly to the empty kitchen. “‘I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano, a stage where every man must play a part, and mine a sad one.’”
“Merchant of Venice ?”
He nodded even as that melodious voice went through him. Micah turned slowly, not sure why he was reluctant to face this woman. Gareth had been sure she wasn’t a shifter, Micah felt sure she was.
Curly blonde hair, cut short to frame a heart-shaped face with bright blue eyes that peered at him through the thickest light brown lashes he’d ever seen. Micah felt his heart stop for a moment even as he nodded at her. Those eyes. I saw that color last night in the shower.
Micah refused to let those musings go any further. It surely wouldn’t do to greet her with a hard-on. His cock already twitched in response to this female. Her scent gave her away. The woman standing in front of him was definitely the she-wolf from the night before as well as his guest. This erased any niggling doubts. His beautiful interloper was looking at him.
Not lush then, but tiny. She couldn’t be more than five feet five inches tall and thin enough to almost make him want to force-feed her. Her hand looked small as she held it out to him, making him feel huge and clumsy as he folded his fingers around hers.
“You’re obviously Mr. Keeps Vigil. I’m Olivia Decatur. I sent you an email some time ago about doing an article on Wild Haven.”
She smiled up at him through pink lips that looked soft and inviting. They glistened and as he inhaled, he smelled cherries. Micah swallowed hard as he released her hand. “I’m Micah, welcome, Miss Decatur.”
“Olivia, please. You have a beautiful place here.”
“Thank you.” Say something, you idiot! He berated himself even as she moved over to look out the window. She was talking about the weather but Micah couldn’t make his mind work. She was incredibly beautiful and she was definitely a shifter.
Her overall scent of oranges tinged with a blend of vanilla and cinnamon floated to his nose, tempting all his senses. He could sense his animal rising as he watched her.
She wore a bright red oversized sweater and black pants that hugged her legs. Her breasts and hips were small but perfectly proportioned to her frame. He could almost feel her breasts in his palms. He knew he was being rude, but he couldn’t stop staring. She faced him with a puzzled look and Micah shook his head.
“I’m sorry. My mind wandered. What did you say?”
“I asked how long you’d lived here.”
Olivia couldn’t help but notice the way the light behind her caused his eyes to shine. They were the darkest brown she’d ever seen and though he had his dark hair pulled back into a braid, she knew it had to be much longer than her own.
“I’ve owned the lodge for nearly ten years. It is where I call home now.”
Olivia moved away from the window, hoping the shivery feeling in her spine would stop, that its cause was the cold air and not the man standing in front of her. She wasn’t promiscuous, but looking at Micah made her want to rip her clothes off and launch herself at him. Made her want to drag him down to the floor and ride him until they were both spent and gasping for air.