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“I saw you,” he murmured, allowing her pile of clothes to drop to his side. Her shredded panties fell beside him, but he only glanced at them, and then back to her. His eyes were glowing gold, reflecting oddly in the light. One was swollen nearly closed. “I saw your falcon. She came for Torren.”
She didn’t know how to respond, so she only dropped her gaze and exposed her neck.
He closed the distance between them and she tensed. He slowed, lifted his finger gently to her chin, and righted her head. He shook his head slowly. “None of that. You went after a silverback mid-battle. That submissive shit won’t work with me. You went for his eyes. I didn’t need your help, Jenna.”
“I know.”
“Then why?”
“Because…” She swallowed hard. “My animal doesn’t care about that stuff. She does what she wants. Did you win?”
Lucas studied her face and then nodded once. “Close match.”
She couldn’t help the smile that stretched across her face. “You beat Torren, son of Kong.”
He huffed a humorless sound and dropped his head, relaxed back and sat on the stairs again with a wince of pain. “And every inch of my body feels it.”
“I can help.”
His dark brows drew down. “Help how?”
She twitched her chin toward her door. “Inside, you. A favor for a favor. You brought my things back. I’ll clean you up.”
“You don’t owe me anything,” he rumbled in a gravelly voice that was tainted with exhaustion.
She stooped and grabbed the shreds of her red lace panties off the porch, then took the folded, tattered clothes from his grasp. Her purse was wrapped up in it. Good man.
He followed her inside but hesitated just inside the door. “About earlier. Under the falls—”
“No need. Nothing happened,” she said quickly.
His bright-gold gaze held her captive for a three-count, and then he nodded and murmured, “Okay.”
Good. Good, good, good, they could just keep this easy. “You’ll be gone in two days, back to your life, back to keeping the shifters in line, back to work. And I’ll be here.”
“Doing what?” he asked curiously.
“I’ll be building up my life. That’s what I’ve been doing. It keeps me steady.”
“Why would you need to keep steady?” he asked as he headed to her wood-burning stove in the corner. “You seem like you’re a woman who has everything figured out.”
She’d been heading to the kitchen but tossed a look back over her shoulder to gauge if he was being serious or not. He was turned away from her, placing wood into the heater.
“You really think that?” she asked curiously.
“You know who you are, and you know your place in these mountains. You’re kind and helpful, but the way people talk about you, you have some kind of power I haven’t figured out yet.”
“There is no power in being submissive,” she argued.
“Wrong. Do you know what people do when they meet me? When they figure out what I do? When they figure out what I am, and who my father is?”
She grabbed an ice pack out of the freezer portion of her fridge and shrugged. “Cower?”
“Sometimes. Or become instantly defensive. The males usually don’t negotiate well once they feel the animal. It makes it more difficult to get simple things done in my line of work, but you? Your submissiveness isn’t a hinderance. Not here. If someone is the type of person that will take advantage of your caring spirit and submissive nature, you can weed them out immediately as a viable friend or lover. And if someone looks at your submissiveness as a gift, you can tell who is genuine and good, I’ll bet almost immediately. Am I right?”
He was lighting newspaper and tinder he’d carefully placed into the heater.
Hmm. He did see her better than she would’ve guessed a man like him could.
