Page 7 of Mated to the Mountain Bear (Bear Protector #1)

I move again before I think about it, my butt hitting the chair instantly. The satisfied look he gives me is with the glimmer of annoyance I feel at being compliant.

Tugging up the hem on one leg, having already had to roll the sweatpants up three times at the waist just to walk, I wiggle my toes. They look much better now that they’re clean.

Stealing an alcohol wipe off the table, I bend over, groaning in frustration as my sleeve falls down, refusing to stay put no matter how hard I shove it back up.

The pant leg falls again, hiding my foot from view, and I curse, exhaustion pushing me to the brink of having a meltdown over the slightest inconvenience.

“Shhh. Let me help you.” His deep voice soothes me immediately, and the hysteria bubbling up inside me melts away.

Ben wraps his big hand around my ankle and slides the trouser leg higher, all the way up to my knee, and then a little higher again, when he sees more scrapes there.

Thank God I shaved my legs .

His rough palm brushes across my skin, and I swallow hard at the flicker of awareness I feel deep inside me, when he touches the sensitive skin inside my knee.

He’s big and handsome, and he smells so good; my insides are turning to mush just being this close to him. Despite my life being a total car crash, and this being the worst potential state to be in when you meet a man, there’s no denying how attractive he is.

My reaction to him isn’t just a recognition of his good looks. I see hot actors every day when Amber is on set or going to auditions, but none of them ever elicited this kind of response from me. This feels… primal.

I watch him while he works, opening packets and laying out bandages in an orderly row. His powerful hands move efficiently, his face in deep concentration as he makes sure everything remains sterile.

Maybe it’s merely a sorry testament to the fact that I’ve never had a sexy man take care of me before but I like it.

Ben edges his chair closer, and I startle, worried I’ve been caught admiring him, then he surprises me by patting his thigh. For a second, I think he wants me to sit on it.

“Foot up.”

Oh.

Trying not to be disappointed, I hesitate before placing one foot on his offered knee. My leg looks like a toothpick resting on his thick thigh, and I get those girly flutters all over again.

“I can do this. You don’t need to…”

As his big, tanned hand wraps around my tiny ankle again, my belly flips, just like it did when he lifted me so easily earlier. I’ve never had the hands of a man like Ben on me before. I bet he could toss me around…

“You’ve done enough…” I shake my head to clear the completely inappropriate thoughts I’m having about this man from my mind.

“Shhh.”

He doesn’t need quiet to work, but he obviously prefers it, so I press my lips together and try to keep my mouth shut.

Ben turns my leg this way and that, but as I fiddle with my sleeve, his hand grabs my wrist and turns my arm over, sliding the material higher. When he sees even more cuts and scrapes, running his fingertips lightly over the damage on the inside of my forearm, his entire body goes rigid.

“Fuck’s sake.” The words are more of a growl. His jaw clenches so hard, I can see the muscle jump. “Stay still, okay?”

The tension radiating off him is palpable as he pulls my chair closer, giving me a curious glance when I jump. My throat tightens. After everything tonight, I can’t handle his mood, too.

“They’re not that bad.” I try to pull my arm back. “I can do it myself.”

His grip tightens just enough to keep me in place. Not painful, just immovable, like it’s caught in a vice.

“Stop.” Another one-word order that I obey without question.

I go rigid until his thumb brushes over the pale blue veins on the inside of my wrist, and a jolt of pleasure travels straight to my core.

When I stop fighting his hold and he whispers, good girl , I have to close my eyes against the urge to lean forward and lick him.

What the hell is going on with me?

Unaware of what his touch is doing to my sensitive body, he rips open a packet with a disinfectant wipe in it and gently swipes it over the longest scratch, courtesy of the oak tree.

“You shouldn’t have to deal with this. And I don’t just mean these cuts.”

Oh.

For some reason, it’s his kindness that tips me over the edge.

“I said I can handle it.” My voice wobbles slightly, tears filling my eyes, and he looks up at me with another heavy frown. I know I must appear ungrateful, maybe even slightly unhinged, but I can’t stop. “I’m normally… I’m not…” A sigh. “I can handle basic first-aid.”

He looks me straight in the eye, and my belly flips. “I’m sure you can. Doesn’t mean you have to.”

Oh fuck. Feeling flustered, and like every emotion I possess is erupting inside me, I squirm in my seat. I’ve never been more turned on in my life as he ignores my almost meltdown and continues to tend to my arm. That is until he mutters, “So just sit still, and let me get on with it.”

Narrowing my eyes at the top of his head, I wait for Ben to feel me staring at him and look up.

“Look, you’ve made it pretty clear you don’t want me here, and I get it; this is a big inconvenience. But you could have said no. You’re a big boy.”

My tone has more bite to it than intended, and I’m not really sure why I’m snapping at him, just that I’m at my breaking point, and all the tension I’ve been carrying around for weeks is ready to pour out of me.

“I’m not exactly thrilled about being stuck here, either. I’d prefer to be back in my apartment, fast asleep, with nobody bothering me, either.”

His hands still completely, and the intensity in his dark eyes makes my breath catch. When he says nothing, my nervous mouth rushes to fill the uncomfortable silence.

“Not that it’s my apartment anymore, I have to be out in a week. I was supposed to move in with Amber, but… she couldn’t pay the deposit, for obvious reasons, and …”

For a moment, I think he might say something, but he doesn’t react to my rising hysteria, he just nods and lets me ramble. When I fall silent, he looks back down without a word, reaching for the antiseptic wipes again with deliberate movements.

“This might sting,” is all he says.

I blink hard, confused both by his complete indifference to my mood swings, but I’m too exhausted to keep fighting, so I slump back in the chair and let him do his thing, corded forearms flexing as he works.

He’s massive. His hands are massive. His arms are massive. Even kneeling, he’s eye level with me while I sit in the chair. His shoulders are twice the width of mine. Everything about him screams strength and capability. It’s a powerful aphrodisiac.

“This one’s deeper.” He reaches for a bandage. “It’s going to hurt a bit.”

It does, but I barely notice it . I’m too focused on his hands as he moves on to my other foot, which practically disappears inside his grasp.

“There’s no coverage up here,” I say, and he nods.

He finishes, carefully wrapping each foot in fresh bandages and slipping a giant sock on top. “Other one.”

I switch legs immediately.

“And Beau knew that?” I ask, although I already know the answer.

Ben nods again.

Sighing, I settle deeper into the chair. The adrenaline that’s been coursing through me all night is almost gone, and my nervous system is finally getting the message that I’m safe. Uncontactable, cut off from the rest of the world, but safe.

“Thank you,” I whisper, as Ben slides back, gently lowering my foot to the floor.

He grunts, already focused on my second arm. But I catch the way his touch gets even gentler, if that’s possible, as my eyelids droop, and my blinks become slower and longer.

When he finishes, he stands, and I’m stunned again at how much bigger than me he is as he packs away the first-aid supplies with the same careful precision.

“Now eat.” He gestures at the table beside us where a steamy bowl waits. “Before it gets cold.”

I push the sleeves of his shirt up to my elbows, rolling them carefully, so I can actually use my hands.

The bowl is filled with venison stew, rich and perfect, with a thick wedge of bread that’s still warm. The first bite makes me close my eyes involuntarily and groan.

“Wow, thank you.”

He doesn’t respond, just watches me eat in silence. He’s not rude, or he’s not trying to be rude, he’s just quiet.

“Your brother said you might take a job with his company,” I say, eager to fill the silence. We should get to know each other a little to make this a bit more pleasant for both of us.

“Not happening.”

The flat refusal is abrupt. I smile. There’s something refreshingly honest about his unique level of bluntness. I doubt he sugarcoats anything.

“I’m sorry you got dragged into this.”

He looks at me then, really looks, like he can see into my soul, and there’s something intense in those dark eyes, glinting amber in the soft light, that makes my breath catch.

“Don’t keep apologising. It’s his fault, not yours.”

I know that rationally, but still. Old habits die hard.

“You need somewhere safe. You’re here. End of story.” He stands abruptly, taking my empty bowl to the sink. “Bedroom’s at the end of the hall,” he says without turning. “Lock works if you want to use it, but you won’t need it. Not out here.”

I glance out the window at the pitch-black forest, and somehow, I believe him. There’s one narrow road leading up the side of the hill. Any approaching headlights would be easy to spot.

“Where will you…?”

There’s only one bedroom. How is this going to work?

“Couch.”

I tip my head back, looking to the top of his six-foot five head.

“No. You can’t do that.” I shake my head, but he just looks at me confused, not understanding my reluctance. “You’re too big for the couch, but I appreciate the gesture.”

He sits on the couch and twists, leaning back and resting his head on his arms, completely ignoring what I said. He looks like he’s already settling in for a sleep.

I’m all set to protest, my people-pleasing tendencies rushing forward, insisting I’m already putting him out too much, but then my eyes land on the front door, which I’d be sleeping right beside.

It doesn’t look very sturdy.

“Go,” he says, opening one eye to look at me, before letting it fall shut again.

Okay. Tomorrow, if I’m still here, we can figure something else out.

Nodding, I stand, the borrowed clothes making me feel even smaller. “Ben?”

He pauses but doesn’t turn.

“What if it takes a while? I mean, the police are looking into it too, as well as Beau, but they’ve been looking for Amber for weeks…”

Ben opens the same eye again and looks at me, like the answer is obvious.

“You stay until we find out who’s hunting you. No matter how long it takes.”

I head down the hall on bandaged feet, trying not to limp and look even more pathetic than I already feel, but exhaustion pulls at me. At the bedroom door, I pause, looking back at my bodyguard for the night.

He doesn’t look up, even though he knows I’m still there.

“Goodnight, Zara.”

When I speak, my voice is barely more than a whisper. “Goodnight, Ben.”

Ben’s bed is simple, with crisp white sheets and a large patchwork quilt. I crawl under the covers and bring them to my nose, inhaling his scent deep into my lungs. Through the thin walls, I hear him moving, comforting rather than odd to be sharing the small space.

The couch creaks as he turns, his frame way too big to sleep comfortably on it, but tonight, I’m too tired and too selfish to care. I’m glad he’s the one beside the front door, while I’m tucked up in here.

Sleep pulls me under, my mind filled with images of Ben, standing in the rain, waiting for us to get out of the car. Then his callous hands carefully running up my leg as he examined my wounds. And his deep voice telling me I’ll be staying here, with him, as long as it takes.

“Thank you,” I whisper, exasperated by my own stupidity. But this isn’t a sleepover or a hot date. I’m hiding from a stalker.

Then I hear it. Low, almost too quiet to catch.

A growl.

Deep and rumbling, like nothing I’ve ever heard, but somehow, it makes me feel protected instead of scared.

But by morning, when I try to recall the sound so I can ask Ben about it, the memory has faded, and I wonder whether it was just a dream, the stress of the night playing tricks on my exhausted mind.

Instead of worrying about the wildlife, I need to focus on my reality. Which is that I’m homeless, jobless, and stuck in a cabin with a man who doesn’t want me here.