“Did you forget that I turn into a bear?”
“No. But it’s not like you turn into a bear every hour, or even every day. It’s been a while since I saw you in bear form. At least…what? What day is it? I’ve lost track.”
“It’s been less than forty-eight hours since I last changed.”
“Doesn’t matter. You’re still one hundred percent guy to me. You pass gas when you sleep.”
“Dogs do that.”
“You scratch when you wake up. That’s a guy thing.”
“Apes probably do that too.”
She jerked on his pants in a show of frustration. “Oh, for heaven’s sake! You’re looking for reasons to compare yourself to an animal. If you ask me, the average American male is at least fifty-percent animal. If I understood your long and confusing explanation of genetics, you’re less than one-percent bear. In my opinion, that makes you genetically superior to your standard human male.”
“Nice try,” he said dryly. He was obviously not going to make this easy.
She stumbled over something on the ground and crashed into his back. While struggling to get her feet back under herself, she asked, “Can I ask, why is it so important that you define yourself as normal? Why do you need to be like everyone else?”
He stopped walking. “Why? Because all my adult life I’ve been studying what makes mankind different from all the rest of creation, and trying to find ways to overcome our physical shortcomings. Disease, aging. Now I have to face the fact that I’m less than what I thought I was. A lot less.”
“Or more,” she suggested.
“How can being part animal be more?”
“I can list people who were no doubt one hundred percent genetically human but who were no better than animals. Hitler. That serial killer, Son of Sam. Some politicians…need I go on? No person is the sum of their DNA. They’re so much more than strings of protein, don’t you think? I mean, if you had a child who had a genetic mutation or whatever, would he or she be less than human to you?” Not knowing whether he could see her or not, but suspecting he could, she shrugged. “It’s that half-empty, half-full thing, I guess. The way I see it—being a girl who could care less about genetics—you’re more than the average guy. You’re stronger, smarter, loyal and brave, better in bed…and I’ll probably never be content with another “normal” man again.”
Silence.
Uh-oh.
What was he thinking?
Did he think she was ready to drag him to the altar? She was so not going there. In fact, she was still operating under the assumption that they’d be going their separate ways once this whole Omega thing was straightened out…not that she was particularly thrilled about it.
“Could you just pretend I didn’t say that last part?” she murmured.
He didn’t respond, which meant he wasn’t about to forget. Wouldn’t you know it, her bear-man had to have the memory of an elephant?
At least he started walking again.
A few minutes later, they broke through the dense forest. They were standing in a ditch. Up above was a road. Paved. Oh, what a beautiful sight!
“Does this mean we’re ready to catch a ride?” she asked, trying not to get too hopeful. She reached for her suitcase, but Tarik refused to hand it over, regardless of the mean-eyes she gave him.
“I’m carrying it and that’s the way it is,” he said.
“See? Typical male stubbornness. You’re definitely human in my book.”
He grunted and started trudging up the incline toward the road, pulling her along as he walked. She was grateful for the help. Her legs were pretty much shot by then and she knew she wouldn’t have made it up on her own.
He stopped when they reached the top, set the bag on the ground and gave her a long look. His back was to the moon, so it wasn’t easy to make out his expression. And his eyes were hidden under a heavy shadow, but she could see his mouth. It looked yummy and kissable and scrumptious. She wanted to kiss him and make him forget all about that man-beast thing.
Who cared if he sprouted fur from time-to-time? She didn’t.
She licked her lips, preparing to act on that impulse when her all but forgotten cell phone rang. Stunned, since the minute she’d arrived in Alaska she’d been unable to get a signal, she scrambled to find it. Where had she put it? In one of her coat pockets? She patted herself, discovering the lump as it rang for the fourth time. Too late. Damn. But at least she could see who it had been. Maybe whoever it had been would leave a message.
She pulled it from her coat and flipped it open. The lit screen glared in the dark and she had to squint to read it.