Polar Bared (13 page)

With the tarp neatly folded and the sleeping bags rolled and strapped in at her back, Vicky clambered into the sledge, trying to figure out where she’d gone wrong. Last night, he’d seemed so different. Today? For some reason she couldn’t grasp, Gene appeared angry with her and himself.

Probably because I threw myself at him like a hussy.

Yet, he’d seemed amenable at the time. She’d not imagined his erection, or his enjoyment. So why the cruel words today? Why the attempt to erect a barrier between them?

Is it because he truly doesn’t care, or is it something deeper?
Gene was obviously a man troubled by his past. Why else would a man with obvious intelligence and skill hide out here in the middle of nowhere? Gene had secrets. Gene had enemies. Gene had serious issues. Gene was acting like a jerk.

So why did she find herself more attracted to him than ever? Hadn’t she experienced enough abuse at the hands of her father and then her husband?

Did a part of her crave a male in her life whom she could never please and who felt a need to berate her?

I thought I promised myself to never allow anybody that kind of power again. Yet here I am. First attractive man who pays me more than a moment of attention and I’m falling right back into that trap.

No. She couldn’t allow it. She’d spent years miserable because of one abusive husband. She wouldn’t get caught in another relationship where she was treated less than a person and where the respect was lacking.

No matter how sexy, or drawn to Gene she was, she’d have to keep her distance. It didn’t prove hard, not with the wall Gene erected between them.

For the first time in years, the asshole routine didn’t sit well with Gene and yet, what choice did he have?

When he’d woken with Vicky nestled in his arms, the scent of her surrounding them, on his fingers, in his blood, even in his damned soul, he’d freaked. Freaked because his first impulse was to kiss her awake and pleasure her again. And again. And…

Keep her. Keep her as mine. Forever.

Panic attack!

It didn’t matter that he reminded himself bad guys didn’t get to keep good girls. His bear scoffed at the idea they couldn’t stay together because they were so different. Opposites were supposed to attract. The strong should pair with the weak. A bear could have his human—and eat her too.

Still though, him and a woman, in a relationship?

A part of him was tempted to try. He wanted to try and see if he could live a normal life, with her. In the real world. Which meant forgetting his plans for vengeance.

But if I’m not plotting revenge, then what else would I do?

I could try my hand at real life again. Get a job. Settle down. Settle down with my Pima.

A fucking farfetched fantasy.

Not only did he doubt his ability to turn himself into a pansy-assed yuppie for Vicky, he doubted very much
he
would ever let him live long enough to enjoy it. One day
he
would find Gene and make him pay. Worse, if
he
suspected Gene had fallen for a human, her life would be in worse danger than it was currently.

The torture, pain, and fear his newest sworn enemy would inflict on his sweet, innocent Pima…Gene couldn’t, make that wouldn’t, allow her to come to any harm, which meant distancing himself, here and now. No more tasting those lips. No thrusting his fingers into her sex as she cried his name. Nothing. Zilch. Nada.

Grumble.

His inner bear did not like his decision. At all.

Too bad. I’m the one in charge. And I say getting involved is a bad idea.

Grrrr.

Don’t you growl at me. It’s for the best. We have to do this to keep her safe.

Safe? Apparently his inner bear scoffed at this excuse, as it sent him an image of a snow goose flapping its wings and running around in circles.

Are you calling me bird-brained?

He didn’t need to hear the chuffing to know his bear laughed at him. Gene ignored the taunts of his other half. He knew what he had to do. Like it or not.

With his plan determined, he woke Vicky from her peaceful slumber and almost gave in at her first shy good morning smile.

Only by acting as an asshole, which for once didn’t come easily, could he stop himself from kissing away the hurt he saw in her eyes.

He did this for her own good.

In stilted silence—his bear sulking in a corner of his mind and her nursing a wounded ego—they traveled, miles and miles, stopping only for essentials like bathroom breaks and refueling from increasingly light gas cans. They were practically running on fumes when he finally hit an outpost that could refuel him. It couldn’t have happened at a better time as night was descending with its icy fingers. They spent the night on the floor of the store, Vicky’s credit card, which she’d smartly packed, paying not only for the fuel but their warm, if less than comfortable, accommodations.

The sleeping bags were laid out in front of the pellet stove, with some of their gear tucked between them, a barrier to intimacy, which she couldn’t fail to note but didn’t remark on. Surely he wasn’t disappointed that she didn’t protest?

The braver version of Vicky, who’d only just begun to blossom, retreated, once more hidden beneath a shy veneer. It pissed him off, but he didn’t know how to fix it. Screaming at her probably wouldn’t work. It drove him mental when she flinched, especially since he’d never hurt her. At least physically, however it wasn’t just fists that could damage. He well knew the power of words.

What a pity he couldn’t drag her into his arms and kiss her until she realized his anger was just an act. How he wanted to.

Blue balls weren’t comfortable, and neither was a constant erection. Yet to satisfy his needs would break the promise he’d made to himself about staying away.

All he could do was put up with it. Clench his teeth as she once again hesitated when she spoke. Tighten his jaw when she wouldn’t meet his eyes. Suppress a growl as she kept quiet. Too quiet.

He hated it, but he’d hate himself more if he or his enemies hurt her. So despite the fact he’d squashed her spirited nature when around him, he maintained his aloof stance.

They traveled like this for a few days until they reached Alaska and the first decent-sized town they’d encountered thus far, if a town of a few hundred could be called sizable. Populated mostly with humans and a small clan of mixed shifters, this tiny pocket of civilization was also where he kept another hidey-hole. Not much really, a room above a bar that he’d paid for in cash to the owner, whom he’d encountered during his army days. Yet another shifter who knew how to keep his mouth shut and not ask questions.

Behind the closed door, which the floss he’d tied off and was still intact showed as undisturbed, the first problem presented itself. The room measured less than a hundred square feet, which meant he couldn’t avoid her; smelling her, sensing her, desiring. It didn’t help it was just the two of them, some weapons and supplies—oh and a mattress on the floor that kept taunting him.

As Vicky used the small lavatory across the hall, her lips curving in the first smile he’d seen in days at the mention of a shower, he tried not to think of her. It didn’t work, not when he knew she was washing her curvy body, soaping it, touching it…

Gene closed his eyes but couldn’t stop himself from fantasizing even more. Vicky exiting the shower stall, her tanned skin moist and fresh from the water. Dewy and in need of a lick. His lick. His touch.

He knew he could seduce her. Quiet didn’t mean she’d lost her desire for him. On the contrary, as soon as she returned from her bathing—fully dressed in clean clothes and not a flimsy towel, dammit—he could smell her arousal.
Her need, for me.

It threatened to drive him insane. Almost made him snap and take what he needed.

Take…

Oh fuck. He chose to escape, with a gruff, “Don’t let anyone in while I use the facilities.”

Fleeing one enclosed space for an even smaller one that she’d just vacated didn’t help. Her scent clung to the steam. As he bathed, he couldn’t help inhaling it and cursing. Cursing even as he finally sought to relieve the pressure in his cock, his hand smoothly sliding the length of it, eyes closed, too easily imagining her with him. Coming with her name on his lips—dammit—didn’t relieve the pressure, or his inexplicable desire for Vicky.

Dressing in the cramped washroom, ears peeled in case of trouble, he pep-talked himself.

No thinking about Vicky. Or looking, or touching.

Concentrate on vengeance. Even if he couldn’t muster enthusiasm for it currently.

Devise a plan of action to flush out whoever was behind the attacks on his Pima.
And kill ’em.

Stay out of
his
reach and make sure she didn’t come to
his
attention. Which meant laying low and not making any waves until he’d secured her somewhere safe. Funny how the only safe haven he could think of was with the very men he wanted to take down.

With his head on straighter, he marched back across the hall to his quarters. He walked in, got hit by a wave of awareness—
How sweet she smells—
and instantly his eyes searched her out. Standing by the window, she peered out through the crack in the blinds. She practically jumped out of her skin when he said, “You forgot to lock the door.”

“Sorry.”

Stop apologizing, he wanted to yell. But that wouldn’t help matters. Unlike him, she wasn’t used to living on edge, constantly looking over her shoulder and trying to stay one step ahead of enemies. “We’ll be staying here for a few days.”

No asking why or questioning his decision. She simply nodded. A woman cowed and determined to not raise his ire.

Which pissed him off. He snapped, “Would you stop the whole battered-woman syndrome? I thought we’d clarified the fact I wouldn’t hit you.”

“I know.”

“Then why the beaten look? What happened to the new Pima I met out on the arctic plains looking for adventure?”

She shrugged as she stared at her feet. “Adventure turned out to not be what I expected.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning, maybe it was a bad idea. Maybe I should have never ventured forth from my safe shell and life.”

“I never said that.”

“You didn’t, but you implied it. And you’re right. I didn’t belong out there in the arctic. I don’t belong here. I don’t belong anywhere,” she finished in a soft whisper.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Isn’t it?” For a moment, she faced him, her eyes big and lost behind her dark-framed glasses. “I might be afraid of a lot of things, but admitting I was wrong isn’t one of them. Silly me, I thought I could reinvent myself. Be strong.”

“You can.”

A shake of her head sent her damp hair swinging. “Not with you. Not against those guys who attacked me.”

“Extenuating circumstances. Besides, I thought we’d already ascertained I was an asshole, which means you shouldn’t pay attention to anything I say. As for those hired guns, you did the best you could.”

“But if it weren’t for my polar bear and you, I’d be dead. And no one would care.”

He almost said,
I would
. Because dammit he did care. However, to admit that was to admit he’d lied to her. That he’d purposely acted the jerk to keep her away. He kept his lips clamped shut.

It served only to increase the woebegone expression in her eyes.

Fuck me. Forget the torture by the rebels. She’s going to kill me if she actually starts to cry.

A little bit of her former spirit entered her tone as she paced in a tight circle, agitation firing her lagging spirits. “What’s the point of trying? You can’t protect me forever. We don’t even know who’s doing this or why.”

“We’ll find out.”

“We?” She laughed, a bitter sound he’d wager she rarely used. “Oh please. I’m sure you’re just waiting for a chance to dump me off so you can go back to your life.”

What life?

“And I should get back to mine. I guess.”

He prodded her. “What happened to adventure?”

“I guess I wasn’t cut out for it.”

Not true. She’d held up remarkably well given the shit happening to her. He thought fast and tried to find something to remind her of why she’d started her journey.
“What about the polar bears? What happened to your whole research thing?”

At this reminder, a ghost of a smile tilted her lips. “I did love the one I got to meet. Even if I didn’t manage to collar him with a tracking device.”

“Collar him?” Gene couldn’t help but sound aghast. “What is it with women trying to shackle free-spirited men?”

“He’s a bear, not a man,” she reminded with a soft laugh, its sweetness enveloping him and making him yearn for more
.
“The collar is to track his roaming habits.”

“He’s a bear. He roams where the food is fresh and his enemies are sparse.”

“And what of when he mates?”

“What about it? I’d say that’s the bear’s business how he does it. He doesn’t need anyone watching.”

How easily she blushed. “I’m not interested in, um, viewing the act, but more about how he acts. When my polar friend finds a female, will he stick around or leave?”

“He’ll never take a mate.” Because it would put her in danger.

She arched a brow at his vehemence. “You speak as if you know him.”

Very well as a matter of fact. “You could say that. I’ve crossed paths with him more than a few times.”

“Any idea how he got the scar?”

A grimace creased his features as he replied. “Same way I did, by being in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

She didn’t push him. Good, because some things he preferred not to answer.

“I do wish I’d gotten more pictures of him. He truly was magnificent.”

A smile curved Gene’s lips as his inner bear preened—vain beast. “I’ll make sure to tell him.”

She made a face at him. “Don’t make fun of me. I know I have a tendency of seeing my bears as more than just animals, but I can’t help myself. For a long time now, I’ve felt closer to animals than most people.”

“That’s because animals are simple to understand.”

“Unlike you.” She slapped a hand over mouth a moment too late. The accusation hung in the air between them.