Page 6 of Frost and Felines (Saltwater Grove #5)

6

KIERAN

K ieran paced the length of his office early that morning as the sun streamed through the frost-covered windows. The snow had finally stopped, leaving behind a pristine blanket of white that covered everything in sight. His tiger instincts made him restless, wanting to prowl through the fresh powder, but his mind kept circling back to Mallory and his impulsive proposition yesterday.

"You're going to wear a hole in that carpet," Charlotte said from the doorway, a steaming mug of coffee in her hands.

"I may have done something incredibly stupid." Kieran ran his hand through his hair. "Remember that woman in the lobby yesterday afternoon?"

"The blonde? Hard to forget her." Charlotte settled into one of the plush chairs. "What did you do?"

"I actually asked her to be my fake wife. Who does that? She probably thinks I'm completely unhinged."

"Considering the mess you got yourself into with the Simmons yesterday, it's not the worst idea you've had." Charlotte's eyes crinkled with amusement. "Though I'm curious what made you choose her specifically."

"You saw her yesterday. She handled those guests with such control and efficiency. Plus, she's gorgeous, smart, and has this... presence about her." Kieran leaned against his desk, remembering Mallory's no-nonsense demeanor. "She could stare down a charging rhino without flinching. And those eyes-"

"Focus, Romeo." Charlotte swatted him on the arm. "Tell me more about her background. What did you find out?"

"She lives alone in that old Victorian on the cliff outside of town. No husband or boyfriend in the picture." He straightened his button down, trying to appear casual. "She’s staying here because the bridge collapsed in the snowstorm, and she can’t get back home until they fix it."

"That house is quite isolated." Charlotte raised an eyebrow. "Sounds perfect for what you need - someone who won't have obvious conflicts in their story."

"If she agrees," Kieran said, his voice tinged with skepticism. "Which she probably won't because who in their right mind would say yes to pretending to be married to a stranger?"

"A practical woman who's stuck here for weeks and being offered free room and board?" Charlotte smiled knowingly. "Don't sell yourself short. You can be quite charming when you want to be."

"I'm always charming," he protested.

"And humble too." Charlotte patted his cheek. "Now stop brooding and go do some actual work. She'll find you when she's ready."

Kieran adjusted a crooked wreath on the wall of the main hallway. His tiger instincts suddenly picked up a familiar scent before he even turned around. Vanilla, rain, and ozone - an intoxicating combination that made his inner beast purr. He spun to find Mallory approaching, and his carefully prepared greeting died in his throat.

The cream cashmere sweater she wore hugged curves he hadn't noticed yesterday under her winter coat. Dark jeans highlighted long legs that seemed to go on forever. Her platinum hair fell in waves around her shoulders, and those crystal blue eyes fixed on him with fierce determination.

"I've thought about your proposition," she said, cutting straight to the point.

His pulse quickened. "And?"

"I'll do it." She crossed her arms, drawing his attention to the way the sweater stretched across her chest. "But I have conditions."

He forced his gaze back to her face, grateful his tiger genes gave him better control than most men. "Name them."

"First, no physical contact beyond what's absolutely necessary to sell this charade."

"Agreed." Though his tiger disagreed vehemently.

"Second, I keep my own schedule. I won't be at your beck and call for every little event or dinner."

"Within reason." He stepped closer, using his height advantage to make his point. "If we're supposed to be newlyweds, we need to be seen together regularly."

A slight flush colored her cheeks, but she held her ground. "Fine. But I need advance notice."

"Anything else?"

"Yes." She tilted her chin up. "When this is over, we go our separate ways. No complications."

"Deal." He grinned, unable to contain his satisfaction. "Now, how about we get you moved into that larger room I promised? We can discuss the finer details of our arrangement there."

"Lead the way, husband." The word dripped with sarcasm, but Kieran's tiger preened at hearing it from her lips anyway.

"After you, wife." He gestured down the hall, admiring the view as she walked ahead of him. This arrangement might be fake, but his attraction to her was becoming very real.

Kieran soon swung open the double doors to the Moonlight Suite with a flourish. "Welcome to your new temporary home."

The tiger in him preened at the way Mallory's eyes widened as she took in the spacious living area. Rich hardwood floors stretched beneath plush area rugs in deep blues and silvers. A stone fireplace dominated one wall, while floor-to-ceiling windows offered a panoramic view of the snow-covered cliffs.

"This is... excessive," Mallory said, but her fingers trailed appreciatively over the velvet armchair near the fireplace.

"Wait until you see the bedroom." Kieran grabbed her bags before she could protest. The scent of vanilla and rain wrapped around him again, making his inner beast rumble with satisfaction. "Through here."

The bedroom featured a king-sized bed draped in high-thread-count linens and a private balcony. But it was the ensuite bathroom that drew a genuine gasp from his fake wife.

"Is that the jacuzzi?"

"Complete with therapeutic jets." He set her bags down, enjoying her obvious appreciation. "The bathroom's bigger than some of our standard rooms."

"I can see that." Mallory ran her hand along the marble countertop. "This must be your most expensive suite."

"It is. But my wife deserves the best." He winked, earning an eye roll that somehow managed to be both exasperated and amused.

"Your fake wife," she corrected.

"Details." Kieran wandered to the windows, giving her space to explore. "I bought this place five years ago. It was run down then - more haunted house than cozy inn. Took almost two years to renovate."

"You did all this yourself?"

"I had some help from some excellent contractors, but the vision was mine." Pride colored his voice. "I wanted somewhere that felt like home, not just another cookie-cutter hotel."

"You succeeded." Mallory settled onto the window seat, tucking her legs beneath her. The casual gesture made something in his chest tighten. "It's very... warm."

"That's the goal." He leaned against the doorframe, careful to maintain the distance she had requested. "We host everything from family reunions to romantic getaways. Next week our holiday events start - the tree lighting ceremony, a gingerbread house competition, and carol singing, just to name a few."

"Sounds very festive."

"Speaking of which, we should probably discuss-"

"Not yet." She held up her hand. "Let me settle in first. Process one life-altering decision at a time."

He chuckled. "Fair enough. I'll leave you to it then."

He headed for the door, pausing for a moment. "Thank you for agreeing to this. I know it's unconventional."

"That's one word for it." A hint of a smile played at her lips. "I'll see you later... husband."

His tiger practically purred at the word, even spoken in jest. This fake marriage arrangement might prove more challenging than he had anticipated.

Later that afternoon, Kieran balanced the tray of food in one hand while dialing Mallory's room with the other. His tiger instincts made multitasking effortless, though his heightened senses picked up every nuance of the fresh-baked bread and herb-roasted chicken he'd had the kitchen prepare.

"Hello?" Her voice carried that same no-nonsense tone that had first caught his attention.

"Hope you're hungry, wife. I've got lunch and figured we could hash out the details of our arrangement."

A pause. "I could eat."

"I'll be there in five." He hung up before she could protest, grinning at her clipped response.

When she opened the door, the scent of vanilla and rain hit him full force. His tiger rumbled appreciatively at finding her in yoga pants and an oversized sweater now, her platinum hair pulled back in a messy bun. She had made herself at home - her laptop open on the coffee table and books scattered across the couch.

"I brought enough for two." He set the tray down, clearing space among her work. "Though my tiger appetite might challenge that claim."

"Your what?"

"Figure of speech." He arranged the plates, mentally kicking himself for the slip. That conversation could wait. "So, specific ground rules. Public displays of affection?"

Mallory settled cross-legged on the couch, maintaining careful distance between them. "Minimal but necessary. Hand holding, maybe an arm around my waist. Occasional kiss on the cheek to sell it."

"That's... acceptable." He passed her one of the plates of food, trying not to notice how the afternoon sun danced across her soft features.

She sampled the chicken, her eyes widening slightly. "This is good."

"Chef Marcus takes pride in his work." Kieran stretched his arm along the back of the couch, not quite touching her but establishing his presence. "I'd also appreciate your help with some of the inn's daily operations. Nothing major - just greeting guests and hosting some events. Charlotte handles the heavy lifting."

"I can manage that." She took another bite, considering. "As long as I'm not expected to run the place like you."

"Just be your naturally charming self." His grin widened.

"I don't do charm."

"No, you do efficiency and command. Even better." He leaned forward, his voice dropping. "Trust me, watching you take control was incredibly attractive."

A flush crept up into her cheeks, but she met his gaze steadily. "Careful, Mr. Striker. This is a business arrangement."

"Of course." Kieran cleared his throat. The tiger in him urged him to ease her embarrassment. "Let me tell you more about the Simmons - they're the reason I'm in this mess in the first place."

"Your competition you mentioned yesterday?" Mallory took another bite of chicken, her shoulders relaxing slightly.

"Gregory and Vivian Simmons. Like I said, they own the Lux Grove hotel down the street." His jaw tightened. "Yesterday, our heating mysteriously failed. Before that, our online booking system crashed. Small things, but they add up."

"And you think they're responsible?"

"Gregory's a chaos witch. These 'accidents' have his magical signature all over them." Kieran stabbed at a piece of chicken with more force than necessary. "But that's not even the worst part. One of our biggest investors, Daniel Sterling, is staying here this week."

Mallory's eyebrows rose. "Hence the urgent need for a wife?"

"The Simmons play up their perfect marriage angle. Meanwhile, I'm..." He gestured vaguely.

"The charming playboy?" A hint of amusement colored her tone.

"Reformed playboy," he corrected, his tiger huffing at her subtle teasing. "See, Sterling's old-fashioned. He likes stability, and family values. The whole works."

"And you think pretending to be married will convince him?"

"It can't hurt." Kieran leaned back, watching her methodically clear her plate. His tiger approved of her healthy appetite. "Plus, it'll drive the Simmons crazy trying to figure out when I got married without anyone knowing."

Mallory's lips twitched. "That part almost makes it worth it."

"Just almost?" He gathered their empty plates, stacking them neatly on the tray. "And here I thought my charming company would be the main draw."

"Don't push your luck."

Kieran stood, satisfied with how the conversation had gone. His tiger wanted to stay, to bask in her presence and that intoxicating scent, but he knew better than to overstay his welcome. "Thank you again for agreeing to this. I know the whole situation is not ideal for you."

"We'll see how everything goes." She walked him to the door, maintaining that distance between them.

"Get some rest. Tomorrow, we start our grand performance." He winked at her before heading down the hall, his steps lighter. Maybe, just maybe, this crazy plan would work after all.