Page 16 of Israel

“My accessory choices are none of your business,” she said. “I’m not going to panic shift, my energy isn’t being drained by an evil artifact, and, for protection purposes, you should treat me as if I were a human. Got it?”

She stared defiantly into his eyes. His gaze held hers, and she felt like he was looking deep inside her. She wanted to turn away, but somehow she couldn’t.

Gradually, as they looked at each other, his face softened. He shook his head, smiling a little. “Okay, I get it,” he said. “You’re waaaaay down on the food chain and you’re embarrassed. Especially because I’m a magnificent predator, with an apex predator dick.”

Get out of town. He was teasing her.

Trying to get her to relax.

Weirder still, it was working. Ashley felt her tension starting to unwind.

“Shut up,” she said. “I am not.”

“You are,” he said. “Come on, you can tell me. I won’t spill your shameful secret.” He paused. “You’re a weregopher, aren’t you. No! A weremole.”

She snorted. “Ha, ha,” she said sarcastically. “Mole shifters aren’t even a thing.”

“Apparently they are,” he said, gesturing at her. “Unless you’re a hamster. Are you a werehamster?”

“Stop it,” she said, trying not to smile. “You’re pathetic.”

“Noooo,” he said. “I know. You’re a bunny. That’s why you can’t stop talking about dicks. Bunnies are obsessed with reproducing.”

“Very funny, Grizzly Dick. Trust me, I am not a bunny.”

In fact, she was about as un-bunnylike as it was possible to be, at least in her animal form.

Israel actually the fuck wiggled his nose at her. It was all she could do not to giggle at the sight of that big, hulking, muscly Enforcer twitching his nose. “A soft, sweet little bunny,” he crooned.

She snorted at that. “Have you met me?”

He went on, “I hope you can also carry on a conversation that isn’t about dicks, though, or this is going to be a very long, very dull assignment.”

“Seriously?” she said. “You want the women you hang out with to be trashy and interesting? How often do you get laid?”

That got a grin out of him. “Not as often as I’d like,” he said, perching himself on the edge of the vanity. “Do you think I should lower my standards?”

“Definitely,” she said. “High standards mean constant disappointment. Without standards, life is just one long string of unexpected pleasant surprises.”

Like the ones she kept getting from her super-hot bodyguard, who apparently liked trashy-talking yet interesting redheads.

“I’ll take that under consideration,” he said. “So,” he went on, “what exactly does this ‘rest period’ involve that you don’t want me to watch? Massages? Naked yoga?”

“You wish,” she said. “Usually this is just when I work without interruptions, as opposed to working with constant interruptions.” She considered. “I never thought about massages, though. That would be awesome, if I had the time.”

“You really don’t know how to relax, do you?” he asked.

She shrugged.

He jerked his head at her. “Come on over here,” he said, pulling the bench out from the vanity table. “Sit down.”

“What are you going to do?” she asked.

“Oooh, suspicious bunny,” he said. “I’m your bodyguard, remember? I keep you safe.”

“Hmph,” she said, but she went over and sat down, curious. “Last I heard, wolves eat bunnies.”

He put his hands on her shoulders and started massaging them, digging his thumbs into the knotted muscles.