Page 15 of Mated to the Mountain Bear

“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.

5

BEN

“Fucking Beau,” I mutter, kicking a rock in my path and wincing as it crashes through the trees, startling the birds still in their nests.