Free Shifters of Silver Peak: A Very Shifty Christmas by Georgette St. Clair Page B

the success of the company.”
    “No.” she shook her head insistently. “You’ve reached the level of success that you have because you have very good instincts. You always pick the right place to build your hotels; you anticipate where the crowd will be before anyone else can. You’re known for being tough but fair, and scrupulously honest in your dealings. You have an exquisite eye for design and you stay on top of all the latest trends in the hotel business.”
    “Well, gawrsh, Valerie.” Morgan affected a gee-shucks tone and pretended to look bashful. “You’re about to turn my head with all that pretty talk.”
    “Hold on, I’m not done yet.”
    “Of course not.”
    “Sometimes, you really get in your own way.”
    “How?”
    She gave him an annoyed look.
    “You know how. You’ve driven off some very talented contractors by being too much of a hardass. You’re frequently rude to people, and you don’t show your appreciation for a job well done.” She let out an exasperated groan. “Oh, for God’s sake, Morgan, you’ve got me doing it. You’ve got me talking about work.”
    “What else would we talk about?”
    “Really? Out here in the middle of this beautiful wilderness?” She seized his hand. “We don’t even need to talk, just relax. And appreciate. Look around you. Look at that stand of fir trees over there. Do you see the bird on the branch, that beautiful, tiny drop of red? It’s like a ruby. The colors are so clear and intense out here.”
    He looked at the bird. “Hadn’t noticed that.” He nodded slowly, and his tension seemed to fade a little.
    She pointed off at the mountain range in the distance, wreathed in white clouds, jagged and majestic against an ocean-blue sky.
    “The sky is so clear that you can see forever.”
    He followed the direction that she was pointing, and nodded. ”It’s beautiful. We live in a beautiful place.”
    “Close your eyes.”
    He closed his eyes.
    “What do you hear?” she asked.
    “I hear the wind rushing through the trees. I hear squirrels chasing each other through the branches. I hear the pileated woodpecker tapping on a dead fir. I hear your heartbeat. I hear each breath you take.”
    Her heartbeat. He was listening to her heartbeat.
    She felt herself trembling.
    “I can hear you shivering,” he said. “I should stoke up the fire.”
    “No,” she said. “Not yet. What do you smell?”
    “I smell woodsmoke. I smell ice and snow. I smell juniper berries. I smell you. The trace of your perfume, with citrus. And the sweet scent of your arousal.”
    He opened his eyes. “And now we’re going to go into the igloo and talk about what I can feel and taste.”
    As she crawled into the igloo, her heart was thumping and her mind was a whirl of conflicting thoughts and emotions. She remembered Morgan pumping inside her and her pussy clenched with want. She could almost feel the touch of his lips on her skin, his big hands cupping her breasts, the radiant heat of his strong body.
    She reminded herself that was what it had all been about. A way to keep warm and fend off the arctic chill of the night. Morgan sharing the fierce heat of his shifter metabolism with her, sheltering her from the cold with his big body. Once this whole farce was over and Morgan had found a mate his family approved of, she’d be out of his life. If she hadn’t already been planning on quitting, she knew she wouldn’t be able to work with Morgan day and in and day out as his secretary anymore.
    Not when she knew what it was like to be his lover.
    On the other hand, this was the only time she’d ever have the chance to experience that again.
    One brief window in which she could hold him close and make believe that he was really hers.
    She shook her head to clear it and pushed her doubts aside as Morgan crawled into the domed space after her and drew her into his arms.
    Their kisses started off slow and sweet. Morgan’s lips were gentle against hers and she opened