Rocco climbed off of her and pulled her into his arms, and they passed out, sweaty and exhausted, on top of the bedspread with the shutters wide open.
The next thing Harper was aware of was an obnoxious beeping sound. The second was a rich, intoxicating and very familiar scent, and the third was a powerful, muscular arm wrapped around her waist. Her sleepiness dissolved in an instant and she froze. We mated last night? I was drunk. Shit! Rocco murmured in her ear and his body shifted behind her, reminding her that he was naked and so was she. Shit. Shit. Shit. Why did I let this happen? With a burst of annoyance, she took hold of his wrist and tugged his arm away from her body, then she rolled out of bed and stormed off to the shower.
"Harper?" Rocco called drowsily, but she ignored him, slamming the door shut and locking it behind her.
Her head was pounding from the alcohol they'd drunk the night before as she climbed into the shower cubicle. She made the water as hot as she could bear it, then stood under the powerful jet, scrubbing until every trace of his scent was gone from her body. You shouldn't have done that, she told herself. You've just gone and made everything more complicated. As if it isn't bad enough being trapped in this mates-but-not-mates situation, you've now turned it into not-mates-who-also-have-sex. And then a thought hit her like a bullet in the head: Rocco seduced me last night on purpose. I'm right in the middle of my cycle, and he would've known that. Because he always used to know when I was fertile – it was how we used to avoid getting pregnant in our teens. He saw an opportunity to get me pregnant and took advantage of me being drunk. He wants me to start having cubs. Of course he does. She let off a snarl of frustration. Is that why he took me to Paris? To make me all soft and romantic, so I'd agree to mate him? As she got more and more mad, she scrubbed herself harder and harder, until she snapped her brand-new back scrubber clean in half.
She opened the bathroom door cautiously, but Rocco was gone. He'd left a note on the bed: "Morning, little bear. Can you be ready by 10:30? I've ordered the taxi already xx." She screwed it up and threw it in the bin, before gathering up all her things like a whirlwind, cleaning her teeth, combing her hair, getting dressed, and slamming out of the room with five minutes to spare.
Rocco greeted her in the lobby with a big smile, looking more gorgeous than ever. She flashed him a weak smile in return, determined not to show any emotion until she'd worked things out in her head. During the journey to the airport, she gazed out of the window, still in awe of the beautiful, elegant city. Regardless of Rocco tricking her, she wanted to remember it as a perfect vacation.
"What is it, Harper?" he asked when they'd checked their bags in and she was still evading his attempts to be affectionate.
"It's nothing," she replied, and stalked over to a coffee bar.
"You didn't like mating last night?" he said, sitting down beside her with two cafés au lait. She looked away, unable to meet his burning gaze.
"No, it's not that," she said. "I'm just tired. I didn't sleep so well."
"Was it my snoring?" he said with a hint of sheepishness.
"Yeah, that was it." To her great relief, he let the subject drop. He knew she hated to have something forced out of her and that she'd tell him when she was ready, but she also sensed his unease, felt his bear pacing inside him. Good, she thought. He deserves this.
As they boarded the plane and took their seats, she laid a hand reflexively on her belly. Did he make me pregnant? she wondered. Is there a seed growing in me already? The thought was painful to her. She'd always wanted to have cubs with Rocco, and more recently, she'd assumed she'd have cubs with her mate. But not like this. Not without us being true mates.
12
I shouldn't have mated her last night, Rocco thought, gazing at Harper curled up in her seat, determinedly turned away from him and plugged into a movie, her face mostly hidden by a pair of oversized headphones and a blanket. We had the best time ever. It was a perfect weekend, and I made her real happy. And then I had to go and ruin it by seducing her. But the sex was incredible, his bear told him. He tried to shush it up, but already, the memory of it was inflaming his senses once more. Harper. He'd never dreamed that he'd be with her again. That incredible, sexy body wrapped around him, he buried deep inside her, while she wrestled and tussled him, urging him to give her more and more pleasure. She was mind-blowingly sexy. And she'd only gotten stronger and hungrier over the years. He was wracked with guilt now. But why? She'd wanted it too. He'd given her the chance to say she didn't want it, but instead, she'd kissed him hard, touched him with those sensual caresses that had driven him crazy since day one, and then he couldn't hold back anymore.
Of course this had made things more complicated between them. But maybe that was a good thing. Maybe it would make her forget that she hated him. And she could learn to love him again, as he loved her. It had meant so much when she'd said that she wanted to stop fighting and be friends, and he'd really felt like there was something between them again while they were in Paris. But he'd moved too fast; scared her off. As he gazed at her, she stretched and pulled the blanket higher on her shoulders, and he felt a tenderness he hadn't experienced in a very long time. I hope that's not it; the last time we're together, he thought, and his bear howled, deep inside him.
Harper was similarly quiet on the ride home from the airport, complaining that she was tired and jetlagged. When they got home, she thanked him again for a lovely vacation, but her words were stiff and formal, and hit him like stabs in his heart. He offered to cook up some meat and potatoes for them both, but she said she was full from the food on the plane and didn't need to eat, then she went up to her room to sleep. An hour later, he heard her creeping out of the cabin, her claws clicking on the wooden floors.
The following day, they both had work, and he had to oversee a wrestling match in the evening, so he didn't see her all day. After spending so much time together, he missed her like crazy, and he couldn't stand the fact that she hated him again, and that he had no idea why.
By the evening of the second day, he couldn't take it any more. He went up to her room and banged on the door, determined to have it out with her.
"Come in," she called after a beat, and as he opened the door, she pulled herself up from the bed into a sitting position. She was pale and drawn, mauve shadows showing beneath her eyes.
"What's wrong?" he said, his resolve dissolving into concern. He could see that she was about to say "nothing", before she stopped herself. He sat down beside her. "Tell me, Harper, please. Did I hurt you? Was it too much?" Her nostrils flared.
"I don't want to have your cubs!" she spat. He jerked back, confused.
"O-kay," he said slowly. "I mean, I guess that's understandable. And I wouldn't expect you to in this situation, I guess." Her eyes glittered with anger.
"What do you mean? That's why you took me to Paris and mated me!"
"What?"
"I get it. I got it when I woke up after our drunken tussle. The whole trip was one big plan to seduce me. And it worked. And I'm probably carrying our first cub now. The cub of a man who's not in love with me." Uncharacteristically for Harper, her lip trembled and it was all he could do not to put his arms around her. But he suspected she might tear a chunk out of him if he did.
"Harper, you weren't fertile on Sunday. Right now – yes, you're very fertile. But then, not at all."
"What?" She fixed him with a fierce glare.
"You weren't fertile when we mated," he repeated helplessly. She let off a snort that was pure animal.
"Then why did you mate me?" she demanded.
"Because I wanted to. Because I wanted you. We both wanted each other."
"So it wasn't all a plot to get me pregnant with your cub?"
"No. Of course not. I took you to Paris to make you happy. And the mating wasn't planned at all. It just happened." Her eyes filled with confusion.
"B-but. I thought – "
"Harper, I've got so much respect for you that I'd never hatch some plot to deceive you into anything. If you decide you want cubs, and you don't want to mate again, we can go see a doctor. Or use a turkey baster. Or something." At that, she dissolved into giggles.