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If Ivo had to choose any place in the world to spend his Sunday afternoon, it definitely wouldn’t be at a museum, let alone a specialized exhibit completely dedicated to pottery. But that was where he found himself and had found himself for the last two hours.
Typically, if Ivo didn’t want to do something, he didn’t. If he was dragged into doing it, he made damn sure everyone present knew just how much he disliked whatever it was he had been forced to do. Lots of complaining, eye rolling—the works. Ivo wasn’t a man to hide his feelings, especially when they were detrimental to him in some way or another.
Seeing the exhibit hadn’t exactly changed his mind about pottery and art. He hadn’t turned into some expert critic after wandering around the displays and reading the plaques, but he wasn’t miserable. Not by a long shot.
Because he was with Alani, and her smile made it worth every boring description or pot that looked the same as the pot at the last table they spent fifteen minutes admiring. Alani was a beacon of light in the storm, and Ivo gravitated toward her. For the most part, he just hovered, letting her enjoy the exhibit at liberty.
After all, this was her world—one of her passions. He could see it written on her beautiful features, in the way her eyes had lit up on the ride there when they spotted the sign on the road guiding visitors to the museum. She entered the fray of visitors with unabashed excitement, thanking the employee who gave her an exhibit wristband and snatching up all the pamphlets available.
In his world, the people he usually sought the company of didn’t revel in their passions. They kept that side of themselves hidden, fearful that others would judge them. It wasn’t “cool” to show your interest. It wasn’t smart to give people something else to tear you down with, another tool to chip away at your self-esteem. But Alani wasn’t like that. Alani openly, yet quietly, rejoiced each work she stopped to admire, taking the time to read the plaques and ask employees about the artist.
Hell, she even looked at notes on her phone and referenced things from the textbook she brought along. This beautiful woman with her golden brown skin, unblemished and crinkled around her eyes from smiling, and wild mane, was totally in her element, and her happiness was infectious. So while this wasn’t Ivo’s scene, he found himself having a pretty fantastic time.
His inner black bear had never been so calm. In Alani’s presence, the bear didn’t want to run or tussle or rampage. He sought comfort in her, just as Ivo did. The bear was eager to make an appearance, but Ivo couldn’t have that. Not yet anyway. Alani had only just opened up this small part of herself to Ivo’s human side; no way in hell would he turn her world upside down by bringing the shifter side to the table. In time he would have to, of course, because she was his fated mate—he felt it in his soul—and she deserved the truth.
So, for now, he worked on earning her trust, the trust he had already tainted. He kept his mouth in line and did what he could to make the day the best pottery exhibit date he could. Ivo asked questions. He paused to admire displays when he felt Alani’s gaze drift his way, even if his mind wasn’t one hundred percent focused on what was in front of him. He nudged through crowds, using his large figure to help position her at the front so she could hear and see when the museum employees gave talks on a specific piece. All he did, Ivo did for Alani.
His fated mate deserved that and so much more. And Ivo wasn’t one to bend the knee for anyone; he had always thought all this fated mate stuff was bullshit. Like shifters were just using it as an excuse to claim a person for themselves.
But it wasn’t bullshit. Ivo felt their connection growing stronger every time they spoke. He felt an undeniable pull toward this woman, and he was determined not to fuck it up again.
“Ivo, are you listening?”
Damn it. He cleared his throat and moved in closer, heart pounding beneath Alani’s hand against his chest. “I was thinking about the last piece we looked at. Very, uh, impressive.”
“It is,” she stressed, eyes twinkling with excitement as she gripped his shirt and pulled him closer to one pot in particular. Well, a piece of a pot, one that was dug up recently during an archaeological dig. The colors had faded over time, but the design was still very clear—and it seemed to capture Alani in a way nothing had so far. “Do you see how the colors swirl together? But each is still distinct and individual… Nothing bled. It’s exceptional. The skill level this requires… I… I’m lost for words.”
Unable to help himself, Ivo smiled, her enthusiasm warming him. He then took a risk, desperate for more contact, and slid an arm around her waist. Still rambling on about the ancient potter’s skill, Alani didn’t seem to notice, but Ivo was keenly aware of the way she almost leaned into the touch. All she needed to do was lean her head back against his shoulder, and it would be perfect. He swallowed hard as his inner bear chuffed, the beast eager for more contact—for Ivo to bury his face in Alani’s hair and breathe her in.
But that would be creepy as fuck to a woman who had no idea, not a clue, about the storm he kept at bay within. Every instinct told him to go for it, to claim the mate who was meant for him, but his modern-day sensibilities kept him in control. For now, anyway. It wouldn’t do anyone any good to frighten her off again; he wished his inner black bear could see that.
“Ivo…” She whispered his name now, just a soft breath, a gentle sigh, and he wanted to melt to his knees and worship her. Alani turned in his arm, both hands resting on his chest now, her head tipped back to meet his eye. “This has been a fantastic date… I really appreciate it, because I know pottery doesn’t really interest you.”
“Of course it interests me,” he murmured back, feeling bold enough again to sweep her hair back behind her ears. Soft yet coarse, it rebelled straightaway, bouncing back in place. “You make it interesting.”
Her eyelashes, lush black curtains framing stunning ocean blue eyes, fluttered briefly, and suddenly she was up on her toes and pressing her lips to his. For a few seconds, he just stood there, too stunned to react, and by the time he finally kissed her back, his inner bear snarling at his pause, Alani was already pulling away. A soft, sweet kiss—just a peck. Pink touched her cheeks, and she pressed her lips together for a moment before laughing.
“I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself.”
Ivo’s eyebrows shot up, and he tugged her closer, his grip tightening around her waist. “Don’t be sorry…”
As she drew another soft breath, lips parted, Ivo seized the opportunity to return the gesture, claiming her plump lips firmly with his. She gasped, one hand sliding up to cup his cheek while the other tightened around his shirt. Although he wanted nothing more than to deepen the kiss, to draw her to him and let every man present know that she was his, Ivo relented just as fast as she had.
After all, he didn’t want to scare her. Right? That was the plan? Maybe. His head suddenly found itself floating on clouds, although he was present enough to notice he’d left her breathless.
“Do… you mind if we keep going?” she asked, her blush darkening before she added, “With the rest of the exhibit, I mean.”
Ivo grinned, his arm sliding up to wrap around her shoulders this time, keeping her close. “Of course not. Lead the way…”
