"Look, guys, I'm just paid to do a job. Cooperate and it'll go easier for all of us. Then we can all go home. I've got zero social life out here." With that, she marched out.
I moved over, sat next to Connor, and took the plate he offered. "The least they could have done was cut it up," I muttered.
"They probably expect us to tear into it with our powerful bite."
I sighed. "This is getting old fast."
The darkness arrived, and with it the chill of the night. Maybe because they planned to house animals here they hadn't spent money to hook this part of their lab up to a heater. Or maybe— more likely—they simply weren't turning it on because they hoped to force us—or Connor, in any case—into shifting.
After we'd finished eating, we didn't continue to play games. We retreated to our respective corners and became lost in our own thoughts. A little moonlight spilled in. I wondered if we'd still be here when the dark of the moon arrived, when the moon wasn't visible in the night sky. I unbraided my hair so it could serve as a flimsy blanket over my shoulders. I crossed my arms over my chest and held them tightly against my body striving to hold in as much warmth as possible. I closed my eyes. Maybe if I imagined a large log fire in the middle of a clearing, sparks shooting up, flames writhing—
I heard movement and opened my eyes. Connor was crouched beside me. I knew I couldn't see him as clearly as he could see me, but there was enough moonlight for me to make out the shadows of his features.
"Here, you can wear my sweatshirt," he began, reaching for the ends.
I grabbed his arm to stop him. "While you turn cold? I can't do that."
"Come on, Brit. I can hear your teeth chattering from over there. Besides, my body temperature is off. I'm always hot."
He'd never shortened my name before. It somehow seemed more intimate. "Okay. Thanks."
I drew his shirt on over my head. It was incredibly soft and still carried his warmth and scent. For a few minutes at least, my shivering ceased.
Connor sat beside me, slid one arm beneath my knees, the other around my back, and pulled me onto his lap.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"Press as much of you against me as you can. It'll help generate some heat."
I wrapped my arms around his chest and buried my face in the curve of his neck.
"Ah, your nose is cold," he said.
I jerked back. "Sorry."
He released a low chuckle, placed his hand on my cheek, and guided me back. "It's okay. It'll warm up."
I inhaled his earthy scent.
"You know what would really generate heat?" he asked after a while, then provided the answer. "If we made out."
"You don't think Mason would post the video on YouTube?"
"Yeah, he probably would. Or he'd threaten to if we didn't meet his demands. Course, the images might not be very clear in the dark like this."
"Why do you think he hasn't turned on the lights?" I'd noticed them in the ceiling that afternoon.
"Maybe they can't. Maybe they haven't paid their electric bill."
"No, seriously. Why is he keeping us in the dark?"
"Probably thinks we'll do things in the dark that we wouldn't do in the light." He nuzzled my neck, and I heard him inhaling my scent. "You smell good."
"I don't see how I can."
"The essence of you, the unique part of you that no one else smells like. The part that lets a predator track you." The entire time he talked, his mouth breathed warm air over my skin. "You smell like"—he inhaled deeply again—"mint leaves when they're crushed."
"You smell like the forest: rich, pungent, and powerful."
"I like that."
He skimmed his lips along my jaw and then we were kissing, generating heat that rivaled that of a furnace. When we were this close, I wasn't afraid of what tomorrow might bring. All that mattered was now.
"Tell me I'm not a rebound girl," I ordered when we came up for air.
"You're not a rebound. You could never be a rebound."
We were kissing again. His hand sneaked up and rested flat against my stomach. How could it be so warm when my hands were still cold?
When his mouth left mine to taste the curve of my neck, I said, "You never noticed me before."
He stilled as though he needed to think about it. "I noticed. I just didn't pay attention to what I was noticing."
"Maybe what we're feeling here, between us, is Stockholm Syndrome or something. Maybe we're reacting to the situation. I've heard when hostages—"
"We're not hostages. And what's happening between us, what I'm feeling for you"—he cradled my face between both of his hands—"it started long before Mason shot me with a tranquilizer dart. I was heading away from the Sly Fox, heading to your house, because I needed to see you, I needed to explain…what I feel for you, Brit, it's so much more powerful than anything I've ever felt for anyone. And yeah, I'm not quite comfortable with it, but I want to explore it. See where it leads."
It sounded as though he was talking about falling in love. I gave him a crooked smile and a shaky nod. Then we were kissing again.
For tonight at least, I thought we'd stay warm.
I woke up in the morning with Connor's body resting over mine, shielding me from the cold. I ran my hands over his back, felt the chill on his skin, and began rubbing vigorously.
"Feels good," he mumbled.
We'd spent a good deal of the night kissing, hugging, and talking. Until we'd finally drifted off to sleep in each other's arms. I lifted my head and nipped his shoulder with my teeth.
"Hey, watch it." He nuzzled just below my ear. "Remember, Shifter bites take longer to heal and they scar."
All playfulness left me. I could bite him all day long, but with one quick shift all evidence would fade away. I knew I needed to tell him the truth about me, but I didn't want to lose this fragile bond that was developing. I'd wanted it too long and too much to risk it now.
But I knew the closer we became, the harder it would be to keep my secret.
"You know what I want?" he whispered in a low, sexy voice.
"What?"
"To shift with you."