Falke’s Peak

tension in the room and Dakota’s physical desires without her ever voicing such need or acting upon it.

The trouble was she did act upon it. He smiled at the thought even as he cringed. She was no shy wallflower, which both pleased and terrified him. If he’d met her somewhere else, under different circumstance, things might’ve been different between them.

Although that kiss—or rather Axel’s reaction to it—had infuriated him, it also gave him hope for something he was unsure his brother had considered.

This woman could be their perfect mate. As a human, Axel had certainly picked up on her magnetism, but while shifted, Gunnar had been much more observant to every change in nuance. She could be the one, but what remained uncertain was his and Axel’s readiness to take the risk necessary to discover for sure. A huge risk considering how brief their time with the woman had been thus far.

There was no question in his mind, however, that Dakota was physically—no sexually— attracted to Axel. The only concern he had was whether she’d react likewise to him, not that he could do a damn thing to find out. Not after he’d given Axel such shit about it.

Having literally stepped into his big brother’s shoes, he was now responsible for keeping the family secret, providing for the woman as their client and succeeding where Axel had failed. The problem was that Gunnar wanted to seduce her, to learn whether or not she could be the one, not avoid her temptation as he so boldly declared he could.

Rules were rules, and regardless whether she might make them a good mate or not, Dakota wouldn’t be in town long enough for them to determine that as fact or wishful thinking. Knowing her for forty-eight hours wasn’t enough time to be certain they could trust her with their secret, or their hearts.

He returned the ax to the woodpile, removed the snowshoes and dropped the kindling into a pile on the porch where it would stay dry and ready for use.

Taking a deep breath of cool fresh air, he opened the cabin’s door.

When Gunnar reentered the cabin, he realized one thing was much easier now: his senses were subdued in human form, so he wasn’t plagued by her scent of arousal. Though he still caught a whiff of her unique fragrance, it wasn’t nearly as hard to deal with as it had been before.

Maybe he could do this after all.

He shed his outer gear and breathed in the warmed air of the cabin’s interior, searching the space for Dakota. The fire blazed with a fresh supply of logs, but she was nowhere to be seen. He opened his mouth to call out, but then heard a noise in the bathroom.

He decided to let her be and headed for the kitchen.

Although the cabin didn’t feature indoor plumbing, it did have a manual pump outside for water when fresh snow wasn’t readily available. But Axel had retrieved a wash bucket of snow earlier to clean the dishes once it melted, which it had. So Gunnar dropped in the small stack of dirty dishes, a squirt of soap, and began scrubbing a plate.

Three plates and two forks later, he was whistling while he worked on another utensil when two soft hands slid around his sides and warm breath tickled his neck.

“Where’s my furry guardian?”

He froze, praying to hear the tread of puma paws on the porch. Fuck, his human hearing sucked. How had she snuck up on him?

Gunnar swallowed hard and dropped the spoon and sponge into the water, causing the cool sudsy water to spatter. “Umm, I expect him back any minute.”

Her hands dove up under his shirt, across his chest.

She lightly kissed the side of his neck and hugged him closer to her body. “Mmm, you smell good.”

So did she. So damn good even to his limited human senses. His dick grew thick and pressed against his jeans, and he hadn’t even turned around. Definitely safer if he stayed right where he was.

Rules… Ah, hell, that felt good. No! Rules. Client.

Her fingers dipped lower, unsnapping his jeans. He started to turn, stopped, took a deep breath. “Uh, Dakota, I… What…” He couldn’t fucking think straight with her body so close to his, her warm breath along his neck, her seductive touch against his sensitive skin.

Her hand brushed over the hot bulge in his pants, paused, squeezed.

She sighed.

He ached, throbbed.

“So, while we’re all alone,” she murmured, her tone husky and suggestive, “why don’t you and I start where we left off, hmm?”

His zipper started to descend. Gunnar whipped around and grabbed her wrists in tight fists.

Up on her toes, she leaned against him, pinning him between her sweet curves and the kitchen counter, making him groan—a sound cut off when her mouth covered his.

Oh, damn, she tasted good.

Client!

He pulled back at the thought, though he didn’t want to, and said, “God, Dakota, I can’t.”

She didn’t try to squirm free of his grip. Neither did she back away, her body still perfectly aligned with his hard-on. Instead, she smiled and sensuously ground herself against him until he swore he’d ignite from the titillating friction.

“Something tells me differently,” she said with brazen glee and a wicked glint in her dark eyes.

“I can’t,” he said again, the words harder to push out with lungs that no longer worked.

“Why not?”

“You’re my client. You hired me—”

“Oh, that’s easy. You’re fired. Now kiss me.”

He tried to think fast. Keep her talking, keep her distracted. Where the fuck was Axel when he needed him? “How will you find your way down the mountain if you fire me?”

The instant her lips touched his again, her bare foot slid up one of his calves. Her leg curled around his. He shoved her hands around to the small of her back and heard the catch in her breath, saw the excitement in her gorgeous eyes. “No,” he ground out. “We can’t.”

Though the reasons didn’t seem so clear now.

Dakota nipped his bottom lip and whispered against his mouth, “I want you.” She tilted her pelvis just so, her heat aligning with his throbbing cock. “And I know you want me too.” Then she pressed her lips against his once more. When she emitted an erotic half-moan, half-purr, he was lost.

Gunnar kissed her hard, spun them around, and pinned her against the countertop. She was so fucking hot, so ready. Her sounds of need and excitement made the rest of his reasons for saying no fly right out the window into the snow. He wanted her and, damn it, she wanted him.

She clawed at his jeans, shoving them down off his ass to midthigh. He groaned into her mouth, his tongue dueling with hers, and she sighed.

“Love a guy who goes commando,” she muttered when he released her mouth to suckle her neck and pull her tee from her jeans. When had she changed?

She’d been cute in the pajamas, but was hot as hell in the tight denim and curve-hugging T-shirt. No bra, he learned when he yanked the tee up. The sight of her breasts damn near made him come in her hand.

Hiking her up onto the counter, he latched on to one plump nipple and tore at her clothes. With one hand, she clung to his head, her fingers woven into his hair, and tried to help remove her clothes. He just wanted them out of his way.

He heard material rip, but paused only long enough to say, “Sorry.”

She pulled him back to her breast and huffed out, “Don’t stop.”

Seconds later, her nails scored his back as she lifted his shirt up. He released her luscious nipple with a hard pop and yanked the T-shirt over his head.

The disconnection between their bodies gave him a second to try to catch his breath, try to get control of his heart rate, his sanity. Oh, fuck, she was so beautiful. That long straight hair over her bare shoulders, just grazing the top of her sweetly rounded breasts. Those dusky nipples, puckered from his mouth. The tiniest scrap of nothing panties he’d ever seen.

She squirmed a little more, just enough to slide her pants all the way off and her panties to her knees.