His first thought, when he could think again, was for Mary. Had he hurt her?
Her brilliant smile suggested otherwise, and her laughing hands stroked his shoulders in a fashion that Neal wouldn’t have expected to be so soothing.
“That was amazing…”
“I’m sorry… I didn’t hurt you?” Neal had to know for sure.
“Hurt me?” Mary sounded amazed by the idea. “Are you kidding? Oh, Neal!”
She reached eager arms to wrap around him, and kissed him soundly.
The way she said his name was all the reassurance Neal needed, and the way she kissed him made him wonder if she would be interested in a repeat performance. His basic need for her had been slaked, but the touch of her lips on his made him realize that he would be happy for another round.
He let her draw him down for an embrace, and buried his face at her neck, breathing in the scent of her hair and her velvety skin.
I’m sorry, he wanted to say. I’m sorry I’m not the mate you deserve, or the man I ought to be.
But he could only hold her, and be grateful for her arms around him, and live in the moment for now.
Chapter Eleven
Mary was not particularly surprised to wake alone.
The bed was rumpled and the room smelled like sex and surrender.
Mary sighed and sat up. Morning light was streaming through the big glass doors. Mary could see down to the hypnotic ocean over the tile roofs of the cottages in front of her and hear the rumbling call of it over the morning birds and the ceaseless chirping insects. She slid one of the doors open and was rewarded by a rush of humid air.
It had rained overnight, and the world was covered in jewels of water. It was already warming up, and Mary knew from the past few days that the sun would quickly burn off the lingering fog and evaporate the moisture. By mid-morning, it would be sweltering and blue again, and mid-afternoon there would be more warm showers.
There was a tiny lizard on the railing of the deck, and Mary eyed it skeptically. The first day at the resort, a lizard so close would have sent her scurrying back inside, but she was too wrapped up in thinking of Neal to mind it.
Mary continued to think, vacillating between frustration and warm, lustful memories, as she dressed and showered. She walked in a daze out of her cottage, only to turn in the wrong direction on the path and walk directly into a glittering spiderweb.
The sticky brush of it on her skin, the tickling of it in her hair and on her bare arms was bad enough, but out of the corner of her eye, Mary could see the giant orb of the viciously striped creature, bobbing on its tangled home. Bobbing towards her, hairy legs waving aggressively.
Mary screamed, skin crawling and adrenaline spiking, flailing her arms. The web was stickier and stronger than she expected, and the spider moved so quickly that she panicked, screaming again and leaping away.
A figure blocked her path, so looming and terrifying in its silence and menace that Mary barely recognized it as the landscaper before she was shifting out of instinct.
“Mary!”
It was Neal’s voice, and it was the only thing that kept her from flinging herself in deer form in a panic through the brush—where there were undoubtedly more spiderwebs waiting to ensnare her.
She stopped in her tracks, quivering.
The landscaper growled at her and then went past. He went from frightful to horrifying as he scooped up the spider from its ruined web, right into his bare hands. “She wouldn’t hurt you,” he said accusingly, clearly more concerned with the spider than the deer.
Then Neal was there, sprinting over and snarling ferociously, hands balled into fists as he tried to figure out what was threatening Mary.
The surly gardener was the obvious choice and Neal did not hesitate to come roaring to Mary’s rescue.
Wait! she tried to call to him through their bond, but he either didn’t hear or was too deep in protective rage to notice, lunging for the man holding the spider.
Given his animal growl, Mary expected Neal to shift and was surprised when he didn’t.
The gardener dodged with more speed than either she or Neal anticipated, and continued to cup the spider protectively in one hand while deflecting Neal’s attack with the other.
Neal cornered with the kind of strength and reflexes that could only come from intense training and shifter advantages, snarling and striking at the other man while Mary wailed Stop! and Neal didn't seem to hear her.