Bear Cuffs (Broken Hill Bears #3)(14)

    He also noticed that she was eating as quickly as he was, her bear equally close to the surface. Neither of them were used to spending extended periods in human environments, and his bear was getting nudgy.

    "What's that movie?" she said suddenly, breaking through a companionable silence.

    "An American Werewolf in London?" The whites of her eyes got huge.

    "How did you know that's what I was thinking of?" He grinned.

    "Because I know you, Harper." She flashed a quick, embarrassed smile.

    "Remember watching that dumb movie together?"

    "I do," he replied laughing. "So, two American bears in Paris. Are you implying that you're about to go on a rampage, terrifying the innocent citizens of this fine city?" She threw her head back and laughed, in that charming way of hers, displaying two rows of perfect, pearly teeth.

    "Nope. But if I hadn't had that steak, it might have been a different story."

    "There's a forest not so far from the hotel. We can go run tonight if you want?" 

    "Is it that obvious that I need to let my bear out?"

    "Only to me." She flashed another one of those smiles  –  the ones that felt like they were only for him.

   

    They took a taxi to the forest and Rocco paid the driver an extra $100 to wait for an hour. Letting their bears out was incredible, as they raced through the unfamiliar woods, following the scents of prey they'd never encountered before. He hadn't seen Harper as a bear since their teens, as she tended to avoid him when she was out running in Broken Hill. It was intense and intimate. Her bear had grown a lot, becoming a powerful, agile female, and he watched her move with admiration. And desire. His bear wanted to mate her, and it was much harder to hold it back in their animal forms. They hunted, racing each other to snatch the prey first, and he was reminded of their energetic mating, how they'd tussled between the sheets, Harper giving as good as she got.

    Harper gave a warning growl as they returned to their clothes and prepared to shift back again. She'd already told him she'd 'give him a bite he'd never forget' if he dared peek at her while she was naked, but it was agony for him, feeling her nakedness so near, her bear calling out to him. He obediently turned his back, but he didn't have his bear under control, and it snapped its head around, catching a fleeting glimpse of her firm, curvy body as she slipped back into her jeans. Instantly, he felt himself harden and hunger for her ran through his veins.

    "Rocco, I've warned you!" her clear, strong voice rang out, and with a rumble, he dismissed his desire and put his effort into suppressing his urges.

   

    The second and third days were even better than the first, if that was possible. After they'd seen all the big sites, they picked up a 'locals guide' and explored all the secret, cool places that tourists didn't usually get to see. With every hour that passed, they seemed to get closer, Rocco registered. They chatted easily, often recalling their teenage years, Harper even mentioning experiences they'd shared. It was nostalgic and bittersweet. In those days, Rocco had often gazed at her when she was drowsy after mating, and wondered what she'd be like when she was a full-grown bear. And the reality was even better than he'd imagined. She was so strong and smart and funny. The best mate a bear could ever have.

    "Rocco?" Harper called to him softly as they were strolling across one of the bridges of the Seine on a beautiful, golden afternoon. He turned his head toward her, trying to conceal the spark of anticipation that had instantly come to life inside him. "Let's be friends," she said. Her green eyes were wide open and full of good-naturedness.

    "What do you mean?" he said, with a frown of confusion.

    "I mean, I'm done being mad at you. I know you're a good guy. Let's go back to having fun together." He clenched and unclenched his jaw, scarcely able to believe what he was hearing.

    "You mean that?"

    "I do. I really want us to be friends." He leaned toward her, arms outstretched, and pulled her into a hug that knocked the breath out of both of them.

    "I want that too, Harper. So much," he muttered, inhaling the scent of her hair, and feeling her heart beating, strong and steady beneath her ribs  –  the heart of an incredible, generous woman.

   

    On their final evening, they ended up back in Montmartre again, which Harper declared 'her most favorite place in Paris'.

    "Shall we go back to that restaurant again?" Rocco asked, then regretted the words the moment they were out of his mouth. It was going to sound like he was trying to be romantic. "I mean, the steak's awesome there  – "


     
       
         
       
        

    "Yes," she said immediately. "I loved that place."

    "Welcome back, Madame et Monsieur," the waiter said when they arrived. "And if I may say so, you make a lovely couple."

    "Oh, we're  – " Harper started to say, and then a very uncharacteristic blush blossomed beneath her skin. On impulse, Rocco took her hand, entwining her long, strong fingers with his own callused ones.

    "Thank you," he said with a dazzling smile, trying not to show the pleasure he felt at having her holding his hand. Harper said something to the waiter in French, and they were sitting at the table they'd had before. Tonight, she was wearing a black tanktop, made of some kind of silky material, and cut low enough in the front to reveal the swell of her cleavage. She had teamed it with a pleated, knee-length floral skirt, and her shapely tan legs were bare. Is she flirting with me? he wondered, his gaze flickering over the slick of red lipstick on her lips and her subtle eye-makeup. There had been a directness in her gaze during the past day or so, and he was constantly aware of her bear, pacing just below the surface, as if something was making it restless.

    As the evening passed, they talked about anything and everything, and he noticed that her eyes never once left his face. He used the opportunity to drink in the sight of her unashamedly, enjoying the way the candlelight glanced off the smooth planes of her cheeks and made small lights dance in her eyes. At the end of the meal, he lingered, suggesting they had Irish coffees, not wanting the evening to end.

    At last, it was time to go. In the taxi, he felt like he could hardly breathe. Harper was so close to him, her bare thigh only inches from his. Every breath he took was rich with her scent. The self control it took not to reach out and touch her was unbelievable.

    As they walked down the corridor to their rooms, she stumbled and fell against him, her hair a whisper on his cheek.

    "Oops, sorry! I think I'm a little tipsy," she said.

    "You and me both, Harper Waverly. I can't believe you forced me to drink that Irish coffee!"

    "Stop!" she gave him a playful shove, that knocked her off balance again, and he caught her in his arms and set her back on her feet. His pulse quickened and his bear purred, but he forced himself not to read anything into it. She's just a little drunk, he reminded himself.

    "I hope that wasn't too boring," he said, as she opened her door and turned to say goodnight to him.

    "Yeah, it was okay. The food was pretty good anyway," she said, eyes bright with fun. And then her expression turned serious. "Rocco. I just want to say thank you. I've had the most incredible time in Paris. It's been more amazing than I could ever have imagined." 

    "My pleasure, Harper. It's been great to see you looking so happy." She flashed him a dazzling smile.

    "Goodnight, Rocco."

    "Goodnight, Harper." And then she closed her door, crushing his hopes at the same time.

   

    Back in his room, Rocco paced around. He wanted Harper more than he'd ever wanted her before, and that was saying a lot. His bear rumbled and growled, incapable of understanding why he didn't just go ahead and seduce her.

    He went over to the bathroom to splash some cold water on his face, and at the same time there came a knock at his door. He bounded over and pulled it open in a single movement. Harper was standing there, dressed in a fluffy white toweling robe, her leaf-green eyes huge, and her lips slightly parted.

   

   

    11

   

   

    Ten minutes earlier

   

   

    Harper closed her bedroom door and stumbled over to her bed. Her mind was whirling. Of the three incredible, unbelievable days she'd just spent with Rocco in Paris, tonight had been the most intense. She didn't even know why she'd agreed to eat at the same restaurant again. It was impossibly romantic  –  the setting, the candlelit tables, the secluded nook they'd been sitting in. The way the waiter had treated them like they were newlyweds, enjoying their honeymoon. It was a painful reminder of what was missing between them. But knowing Rocco, he hadn't even noticed. He probably just thought it had a good view. And the worst part was that as much as she'd wanted to act reserved with Rocco, she'd wound up being open and relaxed with him. He'd looked so handsome that she couldn't help drinking him in throughout the dinner. At school, no other guy had been able to hold a candle to him, and he'd only gotten more handsome as he grew up. And funny. She felt like they'd laughed their way around Paris, Rocco constantly cracking jokes about all the new things they were seeing.