Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87502 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87502 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
“No, I don’t mind.” Her blush was back. “In fact…I like it. We just have to be careful, that’s all.”
“Got it. We will be,” I promised. “We would never do anything about this, uh, attraction between us. I mean, we’re both adults. We can keep our hands to ourselves.”
“Absolutely.” She nodded firmly. “Look, let’s get inside and I’ll put some ointment on that lip of yours.”
“Thank you.” I thought about telling her not to bother—my inner wolf was a fast healer, and my split lip would be whole again in no time. But Goddess help me, I wanted her hands on me. Even if it was only to put a little ointment on my lip, I wanted to feel her touch.
So I said nothing—only gathered the packages and groceries and followed her into the Manor.
SEVENTEEN
VIVIENNE
I couldn’t believe the discussion Kor and I had just had in the car. Had we really admitted that we were attracted to each other? That we wanted each other?
This is wrong! screamed a critical little voice in my head.
Why? Just because of an arbitrary law? I argued.
But I knew the Pack Laws couldn’t be ignored. Kor had just punched Harris Murdoch in the mouth for suggesting we were sleeping together. I would be as big a slut as Harris had implied if I went and did that exact thing—the thing we had both so strenuously denied.
Keeping this firmly in mind, I put away the groceries and went to get the first aid kit I kept in my bathroom. When I came back, Kor had taken off his shirt and was attempting to get the blood out of the white fabric by running cold water over it.
I couldn’t help admiring his broad shoulders and muscular chest and back. He kept calling me beautiful, but he was too—he looked like someone had pointed a magic wand at a sculpture of a Greek god and made it come to life.
When he heard me in the doorway, he looked up with a grin—which quickly turned into a grimace because of his injury.
“Ouch—that hurts.” He put a hand to his mouth.
“Here—leave the shirt for later and let me see to your lip.”
I came over to him and reached up to cup his chin in my hand. His skin was warm and his jaw was bristly—I liked the feel of it against my palm, but I did my best to ignore it.
Carefully, I dabbed a bit of healing ointment on the split in his bottom lip—which already looked like it was closing.
“Thank you,” Kor murmured, and I looked up from his lip to see that his eyes were locked on mine.
For a long moment we just stood there, staring at each other. Then Kor captured my hand and kissed my fingertip—the one I’d used to put the ointment on his lip.
“Thank you, Vivienne,” he said again, and his voice was soft and deep and seemed to go right through me.
Suddenly, my nipples were so tight they ached, and I felt hot and wet between my thighs. His warm, masculine scent was filling my senses, making me want to get closer to him. My heart was pounding as I looked up at him, unable to pull my eyes away.
“You…you’re welcome,” I breathed.
Then, before things could get out of hand, I turned quickly away.
“I…I should open these packages,” I said, trying to find something—anything—else to do. I gestured vaguely at the boxes I’d gotten at the post office.
“Oh, I guess you should.” He nodded.
“I mean—I have to be sure they gave me the right sizes.”
I quickly got a knife out of the drawer and began slicing into the boxes. It’s a wonder I didn’t cut myself—my hands were shaking. Luckily, I was able to get everything open without also opening a vein.
I grabbed the fabric in the first box without paying attention to what it was. It turned out to be a light blue sundress with a frilly hem.
“Oh—that’s pretty,” Kor remarked.
“Do you really think so?” I held the dress up to myself, and looked down to see how the fabric flowed.
“Yes—you should try it on,” Kor said. “Then come back and show me.”
“You…want to see what I bought? I mean, really?”
“Sure, why not?” He shrugged, his broad, bare shoulders rolling. “Look, I’ll sit right here at the kitchen island, and you give me a fashion show.”
I was surprised to say the least—Carter had never shown any interest in what I was wearing except to criticize if he thought a particular item of clothing was too revealing or unbecoming. I was never allowed to wear anything he considered “slutty” which was the reason my entire wardrobe consisted of dresses a chaste, elderly librarian might wear.
That was the real reason I had ordered a lot of new clothes a few days after Carter had died. Now that he was gone, I could dress how I wanted—though I had thought I’d be wearing the new dresses alone in the big house with no one but me to see them.