Chapter 11

Istand outside the door for far too long. It is as though my mind cannot move on from the sight of Mina. I close my eyes, and the image of her burns through my brain. Dark gold hair floating around her in the tub, her eyes closed, lips slightly parted in relaxed pleasure. The smooth column of her neck, the dip between her collarbones… the soft curve of her breasts on the water.

My cock grows rock-hard, and I groan, rubbing a hand down my face.

Dinner. I need to make dinner for us both. Food.

Single words are all my mind can process, it seems. Moving away from the bathroom door, leaving her to bathe in peace, is like walking through mud.

All I want to do is open the door, pull her slippery body onto mine, and to lose myself in her soft, warm body.

Pain radiates from my thigh, and perplexed, I look down. Distracted, I walked right into the kitchen countertop. Wonderful.

This will not do.

No. She told me to leave, and I need to concentrate on what she wants.

Food. Food good.

I lose myself in the process, chopping the fresh vegetables some of my people left on my doorstep, tossing more wood into the stove, stoking the flames high and hot. I do not have time to prepare anything convoluted, so a stew will have to do. The thick pot goes on top of the coals, and before long, the small cottage is full of the delicious smell.

I splay my hands on the counter, still trying to coax the image of her from my mind. A mistake, since now I am remembering the taste of her mouth, the insistent way she drew me down to her this morning, the strength in her thighs as she wrapped them around me. And the memory of her in the tub? It is a stubborn thing though, like the woman herself, and it refuses to budge. Grunting in irritation, I throw together a quick dough, venting my frustration as I knead it.

I'd rather my hands were on her skin, massaging out the knots I'm sure she earned in the lodge today, worshipping her.

It is an odd thing to have my mate in the next room, to burn to touch her and know doing so could push her further away. I toss the bread in the wood oven next, nestling it on top of the flat surface of the stew lid.

Fuck. I exhale, slamming the stove door shut with more force than necessary.

Now I have made food, and still, Mina is all I can think about. I cannot force this thing between us to fruition. I will not act on our impulses and cause her pain and regret.

She's been pulled away from everything she's ever known and dumped into a new world. I hardly know her, but I like the woman she's shown herself to be. Kind to the people here, quick-thinking, brave, and skilled in healing. Not to mention her beauty. Her golden hair, dark enough it's nearly brown, yet shimmers in the light of the sun. The pink lips, the rare smiles. Her serious eyes, blue-grey like the waves crashing along the cliffs of Westshear. The high cheekbones and sharp chin, begging to be touched. To be loved.

I want her more than I have ever wanted anything in my long life. Nothing mattered until I felt that tug towards her. And now that she's here, everything is sharper, in focus. Including my need. I blow out a breath.

Patience is key.

It has been less than two days, and already, my patience wears thin. My teeth grind against each other. For her, I will be patient. For her, I will wait as long as it takes.

The plates and bowls in my hands clink onto the countertops, and I rummage through the cabinets until I find the cleanest mugs, filling them with the crisp, cold water from the well outside. There was a packet of fresh salted butter on the threshold with the villager's gifts for Mina, and I add it to the countertop.

I want to know more about her. That is what I will do tonight, and every night, I decide, until she is settled with me. I will hold tight to that kiss this morning, and stars know I will stroke myself to the memory of her supple body, the look of pleasure on her face in the tub. At this rate, I will have to do it multiple times a day.

Friendship. I will start with friendship. I will teach her about our world, and let her settle in here, with me, until the need that burns through me catches fire in her, too.

Dinner and friendship.

"Oh, wow," a soft voice calls from the hallway, and Mina appears. One of my shirts hangs loose around her again, hiding her body. Her hair dampens the shoulders, and her skin glows, freshly scrubbed. My heart aches, and so does the hard length of my cock. "It smells so good. I didn't realize how hungry I was."

"I am glad it pleases you." It sounds formal, and stilted, and not at all the way I would have liked it to. "It is a simple meal, though, stew and bread."

Her hand goes to her stomach, and a real smile blooms on her face, slow and breathtaking, a flower unfolding its first petals in spring. "That sounds great." Hesitantly, she steps into the kitchen. Her gaze darts around, landing on the place where I hauled her up against the counter only this morning, before sliding away again.

Should I apologize for kissing her? I consider it, but I'm not sorry for it, not one bit. I scratch my head, slightly flummoxed at what to say to her.

"No one has ever cooked for me before." She climbs into one of the high stools at the counter, folding her hands in her lap.

"Truly? Do you enjoy cooking so much, then?" Good, yes. I asked her a question. This is normal. This is what friends do. My palms are sweaty, and I wipe them against the soft towel on the counter.

"No—" A soft chuckle punctuates it. "—I just had to learn, you know? Someone had to do make sure my sisters got a healthy meal now and then."

"Your father did not provide for you? Not at all?" I cock my head, confused and slightly angry. To let little ones fend for themselves… It's unthinkable. "I thought you said he was a good man."

A long sigh tears out of her, and she stares up at beam crossing the ceiling, as though the answers are written there. The starlight lanterns flicker on the walls, and I narrow my eyes. Odd.

"He was a good man. He just… didn't know how to take care of us. Not really. I mean, we had a house and clothes and food, and he loved us, but when it came to the day-to-day… After our mom left, I took over."

Mina says it so matter-of-fact, without a hint of anger or self-pity, that I blink. All I feel when I think of what my father did to us, to Westshear, is molten rage. And here she is, discussing her father's lack of parenting without a shred of anything but acceptance.

And perhaps exhaustion.

For that alone, I want to take care of her. I want to cook for her every meal, just to see that wide-eyed wonder she had when she first scented dinner.

"It was good of you to take care of your sisters," I say carefully, trying not to let my anger at her father show.

"I did what I had to. I love them." A small shrug. "Anyone would have done it. But that's not what I meant," she says, then clamps her lips shut.

My eyebrows shoot up, and I wait, letting the silence spool between us.

"What did you mean, coruscant?" I finally ask.

Her lashes flutter at the name, her lips pursing slightly as though she'll object to it. She doesn't though, simply runs her finger along the lip of a bowl, as though considering how to answer.

"Not once in my life has a man cooked for me, unless you count the guy who made me SpaghettiOs in his college dorm."

"SpaghettiOs must be a fine delicacy," I say seriously.

An incredulous laugh huffs out of her, her eyebrows rocketing up and a smile curving her lips. What I would not give to see her smile at me like that every moment of every day.

"They come from a can. They're cheap and easy, but it was food, and I didn't have to make it." A thoughtful silence replaces her smile, and her finger traces a shape along the countertop. "You know, I really appreciate you cooking me dinner, and breakfast… and taking care of me. I know I'm not always the easiest to get along with…" She trails off, her throat bobbing as she swallows.

I frown. She thinks she is not a good companion? That is false. "You get along with Sulen easily. I enjoy your company. I would not mind more of it."

Mina blinks at me, and for a moment, I worry I've been too earnest. "Sulen gets along with me because she thinks I'm in charge. And you want my company because of—" She makes a frustrated noise, picking up a spoon and setting it back down. "Because of whatever the bond is between us. It doesn't mean I'm easy to get along with."

She's wrong, but I do not want to argue with her about how likable she is, how the villagers all see how hard she works to care for their loved ones, that they're all counting their blessings she showed up to tend to them. That she has a kind, soft heart under her steely exterior.

No. I do not argue with her, but I do not give up on it. I simply add it to the list of things I will convince her of.

Glum, she pokes at her spoon. "Sorry if I was rude. Here you are, taking care of me, and I'm yelling at you."

"You are tired," I say gently, grabbing the thick towel. "You have worked yourself to exhaustion. You fear for your sisters, and you likely miss the life you left behind."

Fear strikes through my heart, and my stomach flops. The life she left behind. I stoop, pulling out the simple, crusty bread and tossing it on a wooden board. The stew pot follows, and the heat bites through the towel I've wrapped around my hands.

I want to ask her. I do not want to know.

I have to know. I close my eyes, my back to her as I take the towel from my hands.

"The life you left behind… Was there a man in it already? Children?" Dread settles in my stomach.

"No, God, no." Another laugh sounds behind me, and my limbs go weak in relief. "I mean, I dated, right? But there wasn't anyone special. And no, no children. I have enough to take care of without adding anyone else to the list."

"Dated?" I ask, taking her bowl from her place setting and ladling the thick stew into it. Steam billows from the pot, and the aroma of meat and herbs sets my mouth watering.

"Yeah, you know, like, went out with? To restaurants, or movies, or to a street festival…"

When I look back at her, she's frowning, staring off in the distance again. Clearly missing the life she left behind.

Well, if she wants to go to a street festival, I can do that. A moo-vie sounds strange, though there are plenty of Westshear cattle I could show her, if that's what she would like. We are known for our livestock here, after all.

Yes. I will date my Mina.

I set the bowl back in front of her, determined.

"What about you? Do you have a girlfriend? An ex?" It's asked with such careful nonchalance I almost miss the way her knuckles whiten on her spoon. Like she's clenching it too hard.

I cannot help the smile that kicks up the corner of my mouth.

"Only you, Mina Kat."

Flustered, she shovels a large spoonful of stew into her mouth. Her eyes immediately get huge, and she fans her mouth before gulping water.

I should not laugh, but I do. She is adorable when she wants to deny how strongly I already feel for her.