Wild Invitation

cravings of his beast—cravings her own beast understood far too well. She wanted him to love her.
    It was a terribly impractical dream for a practical, sensible healer.
    •   •   •
    EVEN with the bond, it took Nate three days to track Tamsyn to an isolated cottage so far south of the lake, there was nothing else within shouting distance. “What the hell are you doing out in the middle of nowhere?” he said, the second she opened the door.
    Her eyes narrowed. “Trying to get away from you.” Turning her back, she walked into the house, her hips encased in those damn painted-on jeans.
    He was tired, sweaty, and hungry. Not for food. For her. Every soft, curvy, bitable piece of her. His cat wanted to test the resilience of her butt, while his— He slammed the door shut behind himself. “Jesus, Tammy. DarkRiver’s operating at red alert while we prepare to take on the ShadowWalkers and you choose this shack to hide in?”
    “It’s not a shack and I’m not hiding,” she said, sitting back down to what appeared to be her breakfast. “It’s Cian’s place. He likes the water.”
    Cian had lied to him. Not exactly a surprise. “It’s miles from the lake!”
    “It’s not that far. He likes privacy, too.”
    Nate dropped his stuff by the door and shoved a hand through his hair. “What, this was some silly little jaunt and no one bothered to tell me?” He saw red.
    Then she raised an eyebrow and that red morphed into something darker, more intense, a blatantly sexual surge of dominance. “I’m leaving DarkRiver. Finn’s agreed to stay on permanently. His agreement was what I was waiting for.”
    He didn’t believe her. “You’re leaving the pack.”
    “Yes.” She put down her uneaten toast and stood. “There, you’ve seen me. I’m fine.” Her smile was sharp enough to cut, her eyes sparking with anger that intrigued the leopard even more than the spicy/wild/hot woman scent of her. “You can leave the same way you came in.” She began to clear the table.
    “Put those dishes
down
.”
    She ignored him.
    Covering the distance between them, he closed his hand over her wrist. She released the dishes softly to the table but didn’t turn to face him. “What do you want, Nate?”
    “I want you to talk to me.” He found himself pressing against her. It took only a single move to enclose her in the circle of his arms and bury his face against her neck. He was ravenous for the scent of her, the feel of her. “Come on, baby.”
    Her body trembled so violently he felt her skin move against his caressing lips. “I can’t do this anymore.” Her voice was a whisper. “Please let me go.”

Chapter 12
    A GROWL ROLLED up from his throat. “For how long?”
    “Why are you asking me that?”
    He didn’t like the tremor in her voice. “Don’t you dare cry, Tammy. That’s not fair.”
    “I won’t.” But there was a wet kind of pain in her words. “I know you don’t really want me. I know it’s the cat pushing for mating. That’s okay. If I go far enough away, maybe you—”
    “What?”
He couldn’t believe his ears. “You really believe that load of shit?”
    “You made it very clear.”
    Everything went quiet inside him. Lifting his head, he turned her in his arms. Her head stayed down—she wouldn’t look at him. Keeping one arm around her, not sure she wasn’t getting ready to bolt, he used the fingers of his other hand to tip up her chin. Her eyes were shiny-wet, but she met his gaze without flinching.
    God, she was so proud. Proud and strong and stubborn. And she’d decided he didn’t want her. He intended to teach her the error of her ways once and for all. Holding her gaze, he slid his hand down her neck, over her shoulder, and along her arm until he cupped the back of her hand with his. Then he lifted that feminine hand and placed it on his erection. She jerked in shock. The reflexive tightening of her fingers almost made him cry out.
    “Does this feel like I don’t want you?” he grit out.
    “It’s—” She paused, her breath hitching. “It’s a result of the mating dance. You don’t want me, not really.” She pulled away her hand, curling it up to her chest as if it hurt.
    Oh Jesus. She was not doing this to him. “Or is it that you don’t want
me
?” he asked softly. “Is that it, Tamsyn? Am I too old for you?”
    Her head snapped up. “Don’t you put this on me!” The first hint of fire entered her tone. “I begged you,
begged
you, to make the