Page 9 of Bear to be Wild (Moonlight Siren #5)

MARIBELLE

I glanced around my cabin and sighed—there was no way I could make Roan sleep on the floor. The narrow strip of carpet between the bed and desk barely permitted walking, let alone six-and-a-half feet of muscular, broad-shouldered bear.

“We’ll have to share the bed,” I admitted. “Just…stay on your side.”

“I will be a perfect gentleman,” he promised with a solemn nod.

I stepped into the tiny bathroom to change into pajamas—a super-soft set of shorts and a tank. As I climbed into bed, I avoided eye contact. It would be too—weird. I pulled the sheet and blanket over me and scooted close to the wall.

Roan turned out the light, and his weight dipped the mattress soon after. Although we didn’t touch, the heat of his body was almost palpable, impossible to ignore. In the quiet space, I thought about the near-kiss upstairs. How much I had yearned for it.

When his breath slowed and deepened, I was sure he’d fallen asleep. That’s what I should be doing—sleeping. Not fixating on his presence in my bed, listening to the soothing sound of his breathing, or inhaling his enticing scent.

Ugh, this was not rest. It was torment. Repercussions for skirting the rules of magic.

I schooled my breath to match his, hoping it would carry me to sleep with him.

“Good morning, sunshine.”

The smell of coffee dragged me the rest of the way to consciousness. I opened my eyes.

Roan sat on the bed. “Thought you could use some coffee.” He raised a mug. “I didn’t see cream or sugar. Do you drink it black?” He was already dressed for the gym, a Moonlight Siren T-shirt hugging his broad chest with his name tag pinned to it.

“Yes.” I sat up and took the mug from him. “Thanks. Now this is the right way to wake up.” I inhaled deeply and took a sip. “Mmm.”

He stood and took another mug from the desk, leaning against it as he drank. “I have an idea.”

I narrowed my eyes over the rim. “One I’m not going to like?”

He grinned, a mischievous one that did strange things to my body. “I need to head up soon for my HIIT class. Join me. You’ll be up there anyway. Might as well make the most of it.”

I fake-choked on a sip. “Did you fall out of a tree, bear?” I blinked at him, clearing the remaining sleep from my eyes. “Being hit by anything is not my idea of fun.”

“Not H-I-T,” he said. “It’s high-intensity interval training.”

I grunted. “You sure the T isn’t for torture? Or torment?”

“Training,” he insisted, a gentle rumble rolling out of him. He put his mug down and folded his arms, which made his massive biceps bulge. “It’s good for you, Maribelle—body and mind. Trust me, you’ll feel great after.”

I snorted. “Doubt that.”

He cocked his head. “Just try it.”

I groaned and dropped my head back. “Ugh, it’s too early for me to come up with a good excuse.”

“So you’ll do it?” He grinned wider, as if already convinced of his victory.

“Fine!” I took another sip of coffee and crawled out of bed to get dressed.

Twenty minutes later, I questioned my life choices as I mirrored Roan’s warm-up steps in the fitness studio.

I shot eye daggers at him to show him how I felt about his plan, but he ignored my death glare, choosing his sickening motivation instead. He motioned to the sun gleaming on the ocean outside, said stuff about starting the day right, blah blah blah.

Roan guided us into the next set of instructions for all sorts of horrendous moves that made my heart race—jumping jacks to running in place and unnatural activity on all fours he called mountain climbers. Who climbed up a mountain that way?

Despite the intensity of the effort, Roan didn’t bark like a drill sergeant. No, his voice was encouraging throughout.

“You’re all doing great,” he insisted, talking to the entire class, yet his gaze lingered longer on me. “Terrific form. Looking good.”

His praise warmed me in a weird way. Why would I care what he thought about my participation in his class from hell? This was his domain, not mine.

Yet, I couldn’t tear my gaze from him. The way his muscles flexed in his arms as he demonstrated the proper way to swing a kettlebell.

The way his shirt clung to his broad torso and stretched over his shoulder blades.

The way his shorts curved over his ass, so perfectly round, as if he did a thousand squats a day.

The sunlight gleamed on his body, and he looked like a golden god.

Between the intensity of the workout and my growing awareness of him, I was soon winded.

Eight others had joined us for the early-morning ordeal, six of them women, and a slinky shifter asked him for help with her form. I stifled an eye roll, yet an odd pang surprised me. What the heck was that? Jealousy?

No, it couldn’t be. I had no reason to be jealous .

One of the men was hard to ignore with his swagger, extending his massive arms out like they were physically unable to fall naturally to his sides. Shifter, big cat type. Blond hair with frosted tips that looked hardened to a helmet by gel.

His muscle shirt was all but painted onto his body.

His biceps were so round they looked unnatural, and his forearms protruded with veins as if being externally attached to his skin.

He checked himself out in the mirror so often, it was like he was programmed.

When this strutting peacock made his pecs dance, I bit my lip to keep from laughing.

Roan caught my reaction and almost broke into a smile, but he wrestled it under control and snapped himself back to professional coach mode.

After a water break, big cat shifter wormed his way next to me, reeking of perspiration doused by body spray. Wonderful.

“You gotta train like a tiger stalking prey. I’m all tiger and that’s my mantra.” He swiped with his hand as if it were a claw. “Go for the kill.”

Was this shifter serious? “I’m just trying to get through this class,” I quipped.

“I’ll help you get through it,” he volunteered with a smug smile.

Oh. Hell. No.

Roan eyed the interaction with keen eyes and called us back to the floor.

I slid away from the tiger, and Roan paid particular attention to me with one-on-one instruction, more than he had before the break.

I stifled a laugh from all this sudden shifter attention, yet was grateful that Roan helped keep the big cat away.

Tiger guy had moved on to “help” someone else.

By the time Roan dismissed the class, I flopped onto the mat, lying on my back and breathing like I’d climbed three mountains. Sweat dampened my skin and my curls stuck to my temples. My thighs screamed, arms burned. Pride? Shredded.

Tiger guy approached, but fortunately Roan stepped over quicker and crouched beside me. The big cat looked about to say something, but then turned his attention to another woman in class.

“Kill me now,” I mumbled to Roan.

“You did great, Maribelle,” he praised. His amber eyes glowed, catching the morning light streaming through the studio windows.

“Nice job today,” the tiger praised the woman as they walked out of the studio.

“I think I’m dead,” I said dramatically. “You’re just speaking to the spirit of the witch formerly known as Maribelle.”

Roan chuckled. “You’ll thank me tomorrow. Though your body might be a little sore.”

“My body hates you today,” I shot back, but my lips twitched into a hint of a smile.

“Haven’t heard that one before,” he teased. “Come on.” He offered a hand to help me up.

When I took it, the heat of his large hand wrapped around mine stole my breath. I rose and caught his eyes, still breathing hard but in a way that had nothing to do with the workout.

His gaze dropped to my mouth. And mine to his.

Heat coiled low in my belly. I turned away and stammered, “I’m sweaty and gross. I need a shower.”

The shower had to be quick since he only had a short break before his first client. With my body already spent from the workout, I yearned to stay there under the hot stream until it soothed all the soreness from my muscles.

But Roan was in my cabin, and I couldn’t stop thinking about the eye contact upstairs—again.

Don’t respond to the bear, I told myself.

Right. That was the smart thing to do. After all, I had my rules and I had them for a reason.

Besides, maybe what I was feeling wasn’t even real. Perhaps it was a side effect of the spell.

Right, maybe that was it.

When I headed up to the spa, I asked Charlotte, “Do you think that the spell might’ve…maybe tricked us into being attracted to each other?”

She scrunched her nose. “I don’t think so. You mixed up two spells, but neither of them was designed for that purpose.” Her face broke into a wide grin. “Does that mean what I think it means?”

“Oof!” I shooed her off with a wave. “No, the bear is still as annoying as ever. You won’t believe what he put me through this morning.”

The Moonlight Siren was docked for the day, which meant we had a lighter schedule at the spa. Most of the passengers had disembarked hours ago, in pursuit of tropical cocktails and souvenir trinkets.

“Do you have some time off this afternoon?” Roan asked, appearing in the spa.

“Yes.” I glanced up at him. “Food?”

“Sure.” His eyes gleamed with more mischief. “And then, come with me.” He leaned against the spa doorway.

I arched a brow, skeptical after this morning’s outing. “Where to? A dungeon?”

“The island,” he clarified. “I’ve never been here before and want to explore. See everything. Beaches. Forest trails. Fresh air.”

“Don’t you ever sit still and relax, bear? Especially after this morning’s marathon.”

“Come on, Maribelle.” He cocked his head and his eyes gleamed. “Weren’t you excited the first time you got to explore a new place?”

True, I remembered that thrill of the first time here, before we returned to the same locations week after week until the cruise ship repositioned for a different itinerary, like Alaska.

“It’ll be fun,” he insisted with a bright smile, and his enthusiasm wore me down.

“Okay, you big, annoyingly persuasive bear.” I groaned. “As long as you don’t force me to climb any mountains. I’m still recovering from what you put me through this morning!”

He chuckled. “No mountains. How about the beach?”

An hour later, I kicked off my sandals and held them instead, relishing the warmth of the sand on my toes as we walked along a beach. “Okay. I’ll admit it. This was not one of your terrible ideas.”

Roan smiled and it made his eyes crinkle. “High praise from a discerning witch.”

I shot him a look. “Don’t get used to it, bear. I haven’t forgotten this morning’s awful idea of making me work out. Never again!”

He cocked his head. “Oh, come on. You mean you don’t want to work out next to Sir Flex-a-Lot?” he teased.

A smile slipped across my face. “At least you don’t parade around like that.”

“What? Like this?” When Roan flexed in a perfect imitation of the tiger shifter, down to the pec dance, I burst out with the laugh that I’d bitten back earlier.

As we walked, our hands brushed a couple of times. Neither of us snatched them away, yet we didn’t take hold either. My awareness of him beside me grew, as did the urge to take his hand.

I’d been here countless times before, but never noticed how it could be quite so—romantic.

The island was lush, with palm trees that offered shade from the afternoon sun.

Heat wrapped around us. We’d taken a cab to a quieter stretch of beach, away from the mass of cruise passengers.

Waves lapped lazily at the shore, carrying the salty scent, and seabirds buzzed across the blue sky.

Roan bent to pick up a piece of driftwood and turned it in his hand before tossing it into the sea. “You hated me at first sight. I hope you realize I’m not entirely awful.”

“Not entirely,” I echoed, my voice a notch lower. “And I didn’t hate you,” I admitted. “I just thought you were a loud, grunting gym bro.”

“Like Sir Flex-a-Lot?”

“Exactly.” I grinned.

Roan quirked a brow. “And now?”

I slanted a brow up. “A not-so-loud, but still grunting gym bro.”

His lips quirked into a smile and then broke into a full guffaw as he dropped his head back. “Am I that insufferable, Maribelle?” He stared into my eyes, and his crinkled with amusement. Then he lifted his hand and brushed a curl off my cheek, keeping his fingers there and stroking lightly.

My breath caught. “Dreadfully,” I rasped, though we both knew I didn’t mean it.

He stepped closer. The air between charged with more heat, raising the already simmering tension that clung to us like a shadow. My pulse quickened and every nerve screamed with awareness.

Bad idea, an inner voice scolded.

But a bad idea had never seemed so tempting.

He leaned down, slowly, and I ceased to breathe. When his lips brushed mine, kindling scorched. Our mouths met, slowly at first. A rumble that vibrated deep in his chest was the sexiest sound I’d ever heard.

Deeper, more insistent, he captured my mouth. Electric heat and lightning sizzled inside me as the world fell away to just the two of us. He stole the breath from my lungs and all my rules about not dating shifters from my mind.