Page 36 of Gunnar

My bear surges up instantly.

Mine.

The word slams through my chest so hard I nearly swear out loud.

Torin’s head snaps toward me.

Of course he heard.

Alexandria stops when she sees us.

For a second, she doesn’t move.

I can almost hear her thoughts turning over:

Three very large men.

Remote mountain lodge.

Nowhere to go.

Her shoulders tighten. Then—just as quickly—she straightens.

“Good morning,” she says carefully.

“Morning,” Torin replies.

Alexandria looks between us, cautious.

“Still here, huh?” Orson says.

A flicker of surprise crosses her face. Then something sharper. “Looks that way.”

Alexandria’s gaze settles on me.

My bear slams against my ribs again. Every bit of her is alive to me—her scent, her sweet curves, her smart, sexy mouth.

Every instinct pulling me toward her.

I grab the coffee pot before I do something crazy like haul her over my shoulder and carry her back to bed.

“Coffee?” I say. My voice comes out rough.

“Please,” she says, and I wonder how it’ll sound when she’s calling my name with that same desperation.

She accepts the mug and splutters. Then she puffs her cheeks out. “Not quite guesthouse quality.”

My throat tightens. “You heard our conversation?”

She looks between us, a pretty eyebrow raised. “At least one of you was using your outdoor voice.”

I glare at Orson. “Unfortunately, some of us don’t have indoor voices.”

She stalks over to the kitchen table, deposits her mug and turns to face us, just as I tear my eyes away from her luscious behind.

She studies the three of us for a moment.

“I’m obviously not welcome here,” she says quietly. “The last thing I want is to stay somewhere I’m not wanted. So maybe we should contact my handlers and ask them to move me somewhere else.”