Bear Cuffs (Broken Hill Bears #3)(5)

    "I wish I could say the same, Rocco," she said instead. "And I want you to know that I'll pretend to be your mate in the public eye and in all public duties, out of respect to my father's wish and the needs of our clan. I'll live with you in your cabin too. But in private, I don't want anything to do with you. I want my own room, and my own living space, and I want us to live separate lives." His jaw tensed.

    "But, Harper  – " he began.

    "That's the deal. Take it or leave it," she snapped, quelling the pain that threatened to overwhelm her. It was like a sick joke. Once, many years ago, she'd longed for nothing more than to live with Rocco as his mate. But now their life together was going to be a parody of her desires. His lips twisted and she saw his nostrils flare as he inhaled deeply. 

    "Harper, I wish you could forgive me. It was such a long time ago, and we've got to live together amicably, or things are going to be harder than they need to be." For a second he looked vulnerable, like during those moments when they used to share their deepest, darkest secrets with one another. But no, she wasn't going to fall for that. She'd done that once before, and it had only caused her pain.

    "Things won't have to be hard. You'll have your space; I'll have mine. And the rest of the time we'll just be  –  acting. Like when we were in the high school play together." Her words had the desired effect; he looked wounded. The play had been Romeo and Juliet, and everyone had said that they had amazing chemistry on stage. He dropped his gaze.

    "I'm sorry you feel this way, I really am. Maybe things will be easier once we get to know each other again," he said.

    "I sincerely doubt that, Rocco," she said curtly, before turning her head at the sound of Xander's approaching footsteps.

    At last, it was time for the brothers to leave. The Broken Hill Bears and Pine Bluff Bears said good night to each other, resolving to meet for the ceremony in a week's time. Harper headed to bed the moment they were gone, unable to keep up the pretense in front of her parents any longer, and eager for sleep to ease her aching heart.

   

   

    5

   

   

    "That went well," Xander said during the drive back. Rocco was now happy to leave the driving to him, and he rolled down the window and leaned his head out, hoping the breeze would loosen up his mood. That went terribly, he thought, recalling how cold and reserved Harper had been, so changed from the girl he once knew. On the other hand, time had made her even more beautiful. She'd always been the prettiest girl of all the clans, but those mischievous green eyes had become stunningly sexy, the line of her lips had become more full and curving, and the teenage roundness of her face had given way to high cheekbones and dimples. Her body had also filled out into full, ripe curves that had set his bear purring the moment he'd laid eyes on her. She'd been keeping her bear tightly restrained, as if she didn't dare to allow it to react to him, but he sensed that her body was responding to him. Her pupils had dilated as he took her hand in his, and he picked up a hint of that smell of hers that used to drive him wild. Whatever. He shook his head, dismissing the thought. She wasn't the kind of girl to let her desires rule her when her conscience was so strongly opposed to something.

    "Yeah," he replied non-commitally, after a significant pause.

    "They seem like a great family. I think our two clans will have a lot in common. And, as for Harper, I can't imagine a better mate for you. She's a charming, intelligent woman. And a very beautiful one too." Rocco grunted. He was desperate to be alone to process things, and not to be a captive audience to this conversation. Xander slid a glance at him.

    "What's wrong? You didn't think so?"

    "No, she's great. You Alphas chose well," he muttered.

    "Look, Rocco, I want you to make a genuine effort in this mating; to try to be happy with Harper and become true mates in all senses of the word. But if things don't work out and you're truly not suited to being together, then I'll speak to her father and ask that the mating is annulled."

    "Like that's going to go down well," Rocco said, putting his feet up on the dash. Xander made a clicking sound with his tongue.

    "Just try, Rocco, please." He was silent for a moment, waiting for Rocco to say something, but he just stared glumly ahead at the dark road. "Okay, I'll make a deal with you. Try your best with Harper for three months. And at the end of that time, if either of you aren't happy, you can dissolve the mating. How about that?" Rocco's ears immediately pricked up.


     
       
         
       
        

    "Are you serious?"

    "Rocco, if I didn't think this could work, I wouldn't have suggested it. But I want you to be happy. You deserve it. Just tell me you've both given it your best shot, and that will be enough."

    "Okay," Rocco said slowly. This he could do. At the worst, he'd have to endure three months of Harper hating his guts. He gazed into the darkness, wishing so badly that he could tell Harper his reasons for doing what he did all those years ago. Then she'd understand. But he couldn't, ever. And that meant that she'd never forgive him and get over her hurt.

   

    All the following week, Harper existed on autopilot. She went to work and hung out with her friends, trying not to think that she was doing all of these things for the last time. She'd been happy living in Pine Bluff for the past two years, and leaving it was a real wrench. On her last day at the kindergarten, she hugged each of the kids and all the other teachers goodbye, and then she cried all the way home. The kids had given her sweet gifts, and she promised to write them, but it was heartbreaking to know she'd never be their teacher again.

    Next morning, she packed her car and her parents' truck with all of her belongings, then she put on the simple white dress that all shifter brides wore to their ceremony. It was long and flowing, barely skimming her breasts and ample hips, and she cinched it at the waist with a woven belt.

    "You look beautiful, my darling," Tarkus said, coming into her room with an armful of freshly picked flowers, and he kissed her on top of her head.

    "Thanks, dad," she said and closed her eyes tight, trying to force some happiness into her mind. It's all for him and the clan, she reminded herself over and over.

    While the sun was still low in the sky, they set off on their journey. Harper drove her own car, and her mom drove the truck, while Tarkus sat in the back, weaving the flowers into bouquets and headdresses. Harper loved him for that  –  the fact that such a big, masculine Alpha had a soft side as well, which delighted in the beauty of flowers.

    Three hours later, they were approaching Broken Hill territory, and the jagged mountaintop swung into view. "Home sweet home," she murmured to herself, and gave an involuntary shudder. She'd never seen the territory before, and from a distance it looked almost sinister. The road wound on and on, steadily narrowing, until she came to a crack between two giant rocks that had looked impassible from a distance. Up close, there was barely enough space to squeeze through at a crawl. But on the other side, a surprise greeted her, as a green valley opened out, dazzling with a lush array of trees and plants. And as she drove into the village, she stared at all the cabins in amazement. There seemed to be every possible type of house design, from Victorian, to Tudor, to Disneyland fairytale. One looked exactly like a mediaeval castle, another was like a Spanish ranch house. They were all so different, yet there was a charm about them, and she guessed that each was the work of its owner's imagination. She followed the directions to Rocco's place, and pulled up in front of a building that looked like a log cabin, but built on a grander scale. And this is my new home, she thought. And then she flinched as a recollection hit her: she and Rocco, sitting up high in a hay barn in her mom's old house, chewing on a straw each, swinging their legs over the edge of the loft and talking about the house they were going to live in when they were older. Rocco always said he wanted to live in a log cabin, and she'd laughed at him, saying if he could have any house in the world, why wouldn't he choose something fancier. But now she could see his point. It was a beautiful cabin  –  spacious yet cozy and homely looking. There were flower boxes at every window, and a lot of light inside the house. Out front was a large, pretty garden, full of shrubs and flowerbeds. 

    And then Rocco came out of the carved wooden front door. As she met his gaze, myriad emotions chased across his features. This is hard for him too, she realized. But then she dismissed the thought. He was wearing the traditional ceremonial garment  –  a long white tanktop and white pants. It suited him, the tanktop displaying the huge, bunched muscles of his biceps and forearms, and contrasting with his deeply tanned skin. She stepped out of the car, and the forced smile that he'd plastered across his face dropped, leaving his mouth hanging slightly open.