good conditions to the hospital in Grand Rapids, and the roads would be absolutely terrible in the ice storm. It was safer to stay here unless he had absolutely no choice.
A hawk shifter. It shouldn't have been such a shock. He hadn't known there were any around here, but of course, in the storm, she could have blown down from somewhere much farther north.
A powerful, deep tenderness arose in him as he watched her sleep. He wanted to protect her, to cradle and cherish her. It had been a very long time since he'd been this close to a woman. Not since Christine—but no, he wasn't going to think about Christine right now.
Instead he stirred himself, got up, and began to busy himself around the cabin. She was going to need something warm inside her; it would help with the hypothermia when she woke up. He put the coffeepot over the fire, and opened a can of soup into a tin pan. Then, needing something to do with his hands, he started tidying—hastily picking up the chain saw parts spread on newspaper on the table, putting away the heap of laundry piled on the floor, stuffing books back onto their shelves.
It had been a long time since he'd had company. He was used to being alone in the cabin. Even when he wasn't looking at the sleeping stranger, he was aware of her: the soft sound of her breathing, the light and clean female smell of her.
She seemed to be sleeping deeply and naturally. Her breathing was slow and even. Hunter checked her pulse again, sliding a hand down her neck to feel its gentle flutter at her collarbone. The touch of her soft skin warmed something in him that had been very empty and very cold since Christine left.
She stirred a little, and her full lips parted in a soft moan; she leaned into his hand.
"It's okay," Hunter said quietly. "You're going to be okay."
He wasn't sure if she heard him, but she seemed to respond to that. Her breathing quickened, and her lashes fluttered. With some effort, she opened her eyes sleepily and looked up at him.
Green eyes, flecked with gold. Beautiful eyes. Eyes a man could become lost in.
The shock of recognition was instant and powerful, a live wire down his spine. He'd never felt anything like that before. Never dreamed he'd feel it for someone he'd just met, a hawk shifter of all things. But his bear had responded to her like it had to no one else. Certainly not to Christine, who had used him and left him.
This was different. This was something he'd never felt before.
This woman, this hawk shifter with eyes like a sun-drenched summer forest, was his mate.
3. Felicity
Felicity was .... warm. Sleepy, drifting, she burrowed a little deeper into the pleasant warmth and tried not to notice the painful tingling of sensation returning to her hands and feet.
Someone was speaking. A deep, rich voice. It was a voice she'd never heard before, and yet somehow familiar, like coming home to a place she'd never been.
Sleepily, she opened her eyes.
For an instant, she couldn't think at all. Then her first thought was, Wow .
There was a man looking down at her, the most gorgeous man she'd ever seen. His face was strongly masculine and yet, as close to beautiful as she'd ever seen on a guy. Warm brown eyes gazed at her.
She had to be dreaming. The last thing she remembered was getting caught in that ice storm. She must be lying in the storm, freezing to death, and hallucinating.
Yet it all seemed so real. There were warm blankets wrapping her, and some kind of soft, tanned fur brushing her cheek. And this guy , this stranger ... Her drowsy gaze roved from his mesmerizing eyes, across his amazing shoulders and powerful arms, and the trim waist under the checked shirt he wore.
But her eyes kept returning to his, as if drawn back by a magnet. Something about his gaze captivated her. As she woke up a little more, she became aware of the warmth of his hand against her cheek. It sent thrills racing through her. She'd never responded to the touch of a man like that before. It
A hawk shifter. It shouldn't have been such a shock. He hadn't known there were any around here, but of course, in the storm, she could have blown down from somewhere much farther north.
A powerful, deep tenderness arose in him as he watched her sleep. He wanted to protect her, to cradle and cherish her. It had been a very long time since he'd been this close to a woman. Not since Christine—but no, he wasn't going to think about Christine right now.
Instead he stirred himself, got up, and began to busy himself around the cabin. She was going to need something warm inside her; it would help with the hypothermia when she woke up. He put the coffeepot over the fire, and opened a can of soup into a tin pan. Then, needing something to do with his hands, he started tidying—hastily picking up the chain saw parts spread on newspaper on the table, putting away the heap of laundry piled on the floor, stuffing books back onto their shelves.
It had been a long time since he'd had company. He was used to being alone in the cabin. Even when he wasn't looking at the sleeping stranger, he was aware of her: the soft sound of her breathing, the light and clean female smell of her.
She seemed to be sleeping deeply and naturally. Her breathing was slow and even. Hunter checked her pulse again, sliding a hand down her neck to feel its gentle flutter at her collarbone. The touch of her soft skin warmed something in him that had been very empty and very cold since Christine left.
She stirred a little, and her full lips parted in a soft moan; she leaned into his hand.
"It's okay," Hunter said quietly. "You're going to be okay."
He wasn't sure if she heard him, but she seemed to respond to that. Her breathing quickened, and her lashes fluttered. With some effort, she opened her eyes sleepily and looked up at him.
Green eyes, flecked with gold. Beautiful eyes. Eyes a man could become lost in.
The shock of recognition was instant and powerful, a live wire down his spine. He'd never felt anything like that before. Never dreamed he'd feel it for someone he'd just met, a hawk shifter of all things. But his bear had responded to her like it had to no one else. Certainly not to Christine, who had used him and left him.
This was different. This was something he'd never felt before.
This woman, this hawk shifter with eyes like a sun-drenched summer forest, was his mate.
3. Felicity
Felicity was .... warm. Sleepy, drifting, she burrowed a little deeper into the pleasant warmth and tried not to notice the painful tingling of sensation returning to her hands and feet.
Someone was speaking. A deep, rich voice. It was a voice she'd never heard before, and yet somehow familiar, like coming home to a place she'd never been.
Sleepily, she opened her eyes.
For an instant, she couldn't think at all. Then her first thought was, Wow .
There was a man looking down at her, the most gorgeous man she'd ever seen. His face was strongly masculine and yet, as close to beautiful as she'd ever seen on a guy. Warm brown eyes gazed at her.
She had to be dreaming. The last thing she remembered was getting caught in that ice storm. She must be lying in the storm, freezing to death, and hallucinating.
Yet it all seemed so real. There were warm blankets wrapping her, and some kind of soft, tanned fur brushing her cheek. And this guy , this stranger ... Her drowsy gaze roved from his mesmerizing eyes, across his amazing shoulders and powerful arms, and the trim waist under the checked shirt he wore.
But her eyes kept returning to his, as if drawn back by a magnet. Something about his gaze captivated her. As she woke up a little more, she became aware of the warmth of his hand against her cheek. It sent thrills racing through her. She'd never responded to the touch of a man like that before. It
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