Her nose wrinkled. “That won’t be very private, will it?”
“We have our own elevator up to the third floor. That entire floor belongs to us.”
Belle’s jaw dropped. “The entire floor? ”
He nodded to the front desk clerk, pleased when the woman merely nodded back rather than baring throat. She was checking in a couple who’d just arrived and, even though it was a shifter couple, he wanted everyone who worked with the customers to act as human as possible. It was a habit they’d lost long ago, as his grandfather kept the Pack, and the Lodge, as isolated as possible. “We hold private, employee-only functions up there as well.” He slid his keycard through the lock on the door behind the counter marked “Employees Only”. Once the door shut behind them, he led her down the hallway towards the elevator in the back, ignoring the doors to either side.
“Wow, this is fairly nice for an employee area.”
He grinned. “What were you expecting, a dungeon?”
“I’m not sure, but it wasn’t that you’d carry the lobby into the offices.” She poked her head into Ben’s office, waving at the Marshall. “Hi, Ben.”
He grumbled something under his breath, his cheeks turning red. Rick frowned, wondering why his Marshall wouldn’t look him in the eye. “Ben—”
“Bye, Ben.”
Rick allowed his mate to tug him away, seriously curious now as his mate’s shoulders began to shake.
“What did you do to Ben?”
She looked up at him with wide, innocent green eyes, so startling against her fair skin. “What makes you think I did anything to Ben?”
He frowned at her, not fooled for a moment. “Belle.”
She laughed as he opened the elevator, pressing the button for the third floor. “Well, it all started with fairy lights.”
“Fairy lights?”
“Uh-huh. Seems Dave really likes them.”
Rick nodded slowly. “I don’t get it.”
“Do you want to?”
He thought about Ben’s red face. “I’m not sure.”
The elevator doors opened and they stepped out. He growled at her wince as she stepped forward.
“You’re in pain.”
Her smile was extra toothy. “Yup. I’m going to be in pain for at least six more months, too. Get used to it, big guy.”
Rick picked her up and strode down the hallway to a set of double doors. He ignored her weak attempts to get free, only easing his grip when she gasped. “Sorry.”
“Put me down, Fido.”
He stopped just outside the double doors and glared at her. “You bite me and you’ll regret it, Belle.”
“Oh, I’m so afraid,” she cooed. “Watch me shiver in my boots.”
And the amazing thing was, she wasn’t afraid of him. Not one tiny little bit. If anything, she was getting seriously pissed off at him.
He loved it.
Everyone was afraid of him, from small children to grown men. But Belle was no more afraid of him than she was of a gnat. A dead one, at that.
“Don’t make me break out the rolled-up newspaper.”
If her hip hadn’t been broken he would have dumped her on the floor for that one. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ve made sure the place is just the way you’d like it. I even got your litter box all set up for you.”
He set her down as she bared her teeth and hissed. He opened the door and waved her in with a laugh.
“Welcome home, Belle.”
She shivered as that deep voice washed over her. Welcome home, Belle .
Home.
She stepped over the threshold, eager to see Rick’s idea of home .
She stopped, shocked at what she saw. She’d expected him to continue the theme he’d had in the lobby up here, since it so clearly matched his tastes.
Instead, he’d built something straight out of Casablanca. Dark, rich woods with brown, tan and green textiles in tropical patterns littered the living room. The exposed wood of the sofa and chairs had richly carved fronts and sported “pineapple” feet. The side tables and coffee table were also exquisitely carved.
The drapes were pale ivory, a contrast to the mocha latte walls and exposed, dark beams. The floor was the same wood as the furniture, with a large sisal rug underneath to define the area.
She could see the intricate dining table and chairs beyond the living area, as well as a kitchen that would make any serious chef swoon. Because the whole area was so open, instead of feeling dark and dreary the living space felt open and earthy.
He’d even painted the ceiling a soft, barely-there blue, finishing off the look nicely.
“Is there anything you’d like to change?”
She looked around, taking in the stone and wood fireplace, the massive entertainment center with the plasma screen TV, the bric-a-brac and photos that lined the wall…
Wait a moment. “Rick, when did you start hanging my pictures?”
“I did that yesterday. I wanted you to feel at home as soon as possible.”
Big dope. She didn’t know whether to sigh or to hit him. “You went through my things?”
He rolled his eyes and stepped past her into the living room, shutting the door behind them with a very final sounding click . “It’s not like I read your diary or jerked off in your underwear. I hung a few pictures, that’s all.”
She bit back a snarl as he hung up his jacket. “They are still my things. You can’t just go through someone else’s things.” What if he found my medical bills?
He stalked towards her. His hands curled around her shoulders, halting her progress when she tried to move back instinctively. “I didn’t ‘just go through someone else’s things’. I went through my mate’s things.”
“Without her permission.” Her chin went up, daring him to deny he’d done something wrong.
“This is all the permission I need.” His mouth swooped down, taking hers in a kiss that set her soul on fire.
Soul afire or not, they needed to get a few things straight. She picked up her foot and slammed the heel of her boot down, hard, on his instep.
“God damn mother-fucking son of a bitch!” Rick howled, hopping back from her, his face completely blank with shock. “What did you do that for?”
She leaned on her cane, trying her best to keep her expression serene in the face of his growing anger.
“You do not go through my things. You do not open my mail. You do not answer my cell phone unless I ask you to. You do not read my e-mail. You do not go through my checkbook.” She stopped for a moment, mentally counting up the things she didn’t want her overbearing mate to stick his big nose into.
“You can take my car to be inspected. All insects shall be slain by you. If I have a doctor’s appointment, you may drop me off, but I won’t have you there growling at the nurses or my physical therapist, so you’ll go do shopping or Pack things until I’m done. You will not forbid me to do anything, or you’ll live to regret it. ‘Nair in your shampoo’ type regrets.” Not that she’d ever go through with that threat. His hair was truly beautiful, and she’d sooner cut off her own arm than one single inch of it. “Oh, and one other thing.” She reached up and patted him on the chest. “The Halle Pride leaders are my friends, okay?
So I want you to stop picturing Simon’s balls in a pickle jar in your fridge.” She smiled up at him, all sweetness and light, not surprised by the fact that his face had gone expressionless.
“Is that all?”