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6
Rowan
I wakeup to something wet nudged against my cheek. Then I feel the slow rise and fall of breath beside me, and I smell the unmistakable scent of dog.
Opening my eyes, I freeze.
It’s a wolf. Holy shit, there’s a wolf in my bed. What kind of godforsaken place is this that wolves roam the hallways? My heart takes off, and the beast opens its eyes. Pale blue, with a dark rim around the edge.
A husky.
My heartbeat doesn’t slow, but the panic inside me ebbs away ever so slightly. The dog lets out a huff, his tongue sliding out to lick the edge of my ear. I flinch at the wetness, huffing out a laugh.
“Hey, puppy,” I say to the dog that most definitely isn’t a puppy anymore. But all dogs are puppies, aren’t they?
The dog makes a low noise, nudging my face with his cold, wet nose. Slowly, tentatively, I lift my arm from beneath the mass of blankets and reach for the husky’s head. I stroke his fur, letting a soft smile tug at my lips.
“Good boy,” I whisper, giving him a long scratch that earns me a rumble from the dog’s chest. “At least, I think you’re a boy.” I grin. “This is a nice surprise. Maybe this place isn’t so bad, after all.”
“I see you’ve met my dog,” a voice says from the doorway. I pause my scratches when I see the Prince of Nord leaning against my doorway. How did he get there without me even noticing?
Sitting up, I glance under the covers to make sure I’m still wearing clothing. Flannel pajamas. Phew.
My eyes crawl back up to the Prince’s, and it takes all my self-control not to gape. His crisp, white shirt has the top button open, giving me a glimpse of the muscular chest beneath it. His arms are crossed, all bulging biceps and broad hands.
Even from all the way across the room, he exudes power. Masculinity. Heat wraps around my core, reminding me that I’m a woman.
I shouldn’t be thinking this. He’s royalty. I’m not. I broke up with my boyfriend because I was determined to make it on my own—the last thing I should be doing is fantasizing about someone else.
Or maybe that’s the best thing to do?
I’m not going to be here long, anyway. What would it hurt to indulge in a few innocent thoughts?
I clear my throat. “Good morning, Your Highness.” I dip my chin. “I’m sorry. I just woke up and he was here.”
“Chief came straight here last night,” he replies, clicking his tongue at the dog. Chief stands up from my side and hops off the bed, padding on the plush carpet toward the Prince.
I miss the weight of the dog’s body next to mine, but I force a smile. “Oh. He came to me? Why?”
“Fuck if I know,” Prince Wolfe spits, shooting me a glare.
I wince.
He rests a hand on the dog’s head, and he looks like a wild, tribal king showing me who’s in charge. I’m so very keenly aware that I’m in bed. That he’s only a few steps away. That there’s heat licking the inside of my stomach in a way I haven’t felt in a long time.
The Prince’s eyes sweep over me once more. He tilts his head. “Are you going to do any work today, or are you just going to lie in bed all morning?”
Heat turns to anger, flaring bright in my chest. Rude.
“I was hypothermic less than twenty-four hours ago,” I snap, then immediately blush. He’s royalty, after all. But fuck if I’ll let anyone speak to me that way. I had enough of that from my ex, and I left him behind in Farcliff. No one gets to talk to me like anything less than an equal.
“You were. I hope you learned the importance of appropriate clothing. I don’t exactly make a habit of saving damsels in distress.” His amber eyes flash, a deep well of contempt flowing just for me.
How wonderful.
“I learned that I could count on you to undress me when I’m unconscious,” I spit, meaning the words to sound like an insult—but the Prince’s lips curl into a smirk, and I draw in a sharp breath.
He chuckles gently, still stroking his dog between the ears. “Is that a request for more of my services? I’d be happy to undress you while you’re awake, if you prefer.”
