Page 92 of Ice Rebel

When he reached over, grasping my hand, the electricity was entirely different, a connection leaving me feeling secure. Protected. How strange. Maybe everything I’d read about shifters was true.

“Maybe you’re right,” I told him.

He pressed his finger against his temple. “Me he-man always right.”

“Uh-huh.”

Less than an hour later after my ride had proven that if the hockey gig didn’t work out, he could consider talking with the folks from NASCAR, I’d seen one road sign indicating where we were headed.

North Bend.

While I had no idea where he’d been insistent on taking me, it had become obvious from being in his truck for five minutes that he knew exactly where to go. We’d laughed as he’d weaved around other drivers, both constantly looking in the side and rearview mirrors.

We’d stopped at a grocery store outside of town loading up on snacks and alcohol. While rolling the cart through the mostly empty store, we’d tried to be clandestine in case we’d been followed. The moment had been hysterical, reminding me of my freshman year and using fake IDs.

Admittedly, the store clerk had looked at us funny.

When Roy had pulled up in front of a bed and breakfast, I’d honestly been uncertain what to think or say.

“Are you coming?” he asked after grabbing our things from the car.

“What do you have in mind?”

“Utter and complete debauchery.”

“Then I’m game.”

With a key in hand, he peered in through the open door. “Come on, Mrs. Clementine Smith, let’s head to our room.”

“You didn’t.”

“Oh, I did. You recently married Roy Smith, a fine upstanding citizen.”

“What does Roy happen to do for a living?”

He picked up both our bags, his grin practically evil. “Farming. And the lovely bride?”

“She’s a famous romance author.”

“You’ve been hanging around my sister too much.”

“Trust me. That isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Some of her sex scenes are pretty spicy.”

He glared at me before shutting the door with a brutal thud.

I got out, pulling the flowers into my hands and staring at the gorgeous old Victorian while I laughed. “Let me guess. We have the bridal suite.”

Before he answered, he moved around to my side. “Exactly.”

“You are truly one bad man.”

He moved closer, pulling me into his side. “Oh, you have no idea how bad I can be. Trust me. You’re about to find out.” He half carried me around to the side of the house.

“Aren’t we going inside?”

“Well, you see. They have a couple cabins. Since we’re newlyweds and all, we happened to get lucky.”

“Now, what if the press hears about our marriage.”