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“What is this?” Valentine’s hands moved over the blanket, noting the variations in color. “Is this…” She giggled. “Is this blanket actually a tortilla?”
“Good eye,” I said. “It was a birthday gift from my sister last month.”
“You have a sister?”
“I do. Rita Heart-Williamson. She’s three years older than me.” I stared down at her face. She had never looked so young, blinking up at me like a kitten. The green flecks in her hazel eyes shone like emeralds in the light, and her skin practically glowed.
“Her last name… Your last name is Heart? How did I not know that?” I shrugged, then felt my knees go weak as she said, “If we were mates, my name would be Valentine Heart.” She blushed so pink, it reminded me of cotton candy.
“Valentine,” I said, my tone chastising, though my mind was playing those four words on repeat: if we were mates.
She changed the subject. “So she’s forty?”
“Forty-two, princess. I’m thirty-nine. Old enough to be your father.”
“Whatever. Old enough to be my…” She chewed at her bottom lip and turned away, her face reflected in the window. I watched her lips move, though she didn’t speak aloud, and could have sworn she said, Daddy.
I’d never felt like such a lecherous alpha in my life. “Your heat has cooked your brain, sweetheart. I’m too old to be flirting with.”
“You’re pretty much the same age as my big brother, and his new mate is only a few years older than me.” She sniffed, craning her head to look around. “Is this your house? It smells amazing!”
“Like old coffee?”
“No, more like a spa.” She wriggled to get down, and the blanket fell to the ground when I let her go, making a slapping sound when the wet part hit the hardwood floor. “Oh, god, that’s horrifying. Could you get me a mop?”
“Why don’t I get you a change of clothes? It looks like your heat may be abating.” I hoped so. I needed to get her home safe, sound, and still a damned virgin. And it was getting harder with every breath I took, every small, innocent touch. Every blush.
She covered her pink cheeks with her hands. “I hope so. Where’s the guest bathroom?”
I pointed down the hallway. “There’s only one, but it’s yours. Take a shower and wrap up in a robe—I’m pretty sure there’s a smaller one that my sister wears on her visits. I’ll make something for us to eat.” I checked the time. “It’s almost three in the morning, but you didn’t eat your burger. You need something in your stomach before you go to sleep.”
“Something vegetarian?”
“I don’t have any meat here.” I laughed as her gaze dropped to the half-hard bulge in the front of my trousers. “Stop staring, sweetheart, or you’ll make it worse.”
She made a small squeaking noise, then scooted to the bathroom. I took the moment to adjust myself, and adjust the thermostat. Then I carried the bag of toys to the bedroom.
There were two bedrooms, but the guest room was small and utilitarian. No windows, and only a small table, a chest with my extra blankets, and a queen mattress on the floor. She’d hate that. I didn’t have any omegas in my family, and I’d hardly even spoken to one until I’d been hired by Nicholas Paxson. But I’d taken the required classes back in high school, and I’d been reading every scrap of information I could on them since I met her.
Valentine would want a soft bed. Luxurious things. Omegas loved soft fabrics and fancy shit. I racked my brain to think of what else. Hot cocoa and chocolates…
I cursed at how little fresh food was in the house, while I rummaged through the kitchen, trying to think what I could cook for her that would be light enough for this late at night, and good enough for my omega.
Worthy enough for my little forbidden mate.
I stood in front of the open pantry door, my focus on her, as always. Listening to the water run, fighting not to imagine what she looked like in my shower, naked.
My scent was beginning to seep out of my pores as her shower went on, so I stepped into the mud room and sprayed myself down with the de-scenter, before making sure the cabin was locked up.
It wasn’t anything like the places Valentine had lived. It was small and functional, remodeled to suit a bachelor who spent most of his time working jobs all over the world. It was only last year that I’d decided I had enough money saved to retire from the dangerous work, and spend the rest of my life in Aspen Springs. I would read, volunteer at the local fire department, maybe. Finally finish writing the novel I’d been dreaming up for a decade.
Until the call from Bobby came in, asking me to do one more short-term, local assignment. When I met the one I was hired to guard? All my plans crumbled.
When the water stopped, she called out, “Donovan? Is it okay if I lie down? My stomach still hurts.”
She had no idea. She could ask me for anything in the world, and my answer would be yes. Anything except to hurt her.
“Of course. Use the big bedroom on the left when you come out,” I called back. It wasn’t until I heard the door to my bedroom close behind her that I realized my mistake.
