Her smile faded as she looked away. "Wishes don't always come true."
He wondered what it was she wanted. And what would he wish for? A kiss? If he was lucky, he could have a thousand kisses in a lifetime. He should wish for something more profound.
He gazed at the sky and thought about his life and those he loved: Carly, his mother, his grandfather. He hadn't protected Carly. He'd failed her, and he'd disappointed his family. He'd made his mother suffer with his long banishment.
"You're deep in thought," Elsa whispered.
"It happens." He smiled. "About once a year."
She snorted. "What were you thinking that had you looking so forlorn?"
"I was thinking I would wish to love without regret."
She turned to face him. "I don't think you can live without at least a few regrets."
"True. But I don't want to make the people I love sad. I would wish that my love would bring them joy."
She nodded with a hint of a smile. "That's an excellent wish."
If only he could bring Elsa joy. "Why did your aunt tell you to avoid me?"
Her eyes widened. "You heard that?"
He nodded. "Is it because I made your birthmark burn?"
She sighed. "I know this will sound ridiculous, but my aunts believe in a family curse."
He stiffened.
"I know." She gave him a wry look. "Silly, isn't it?"
He sat very still so she wouldn't know that his heart was pounding, his muscles clenching. A curse? Who the hell believed in curses these days?
His grandfather did. And apparently, Elsa's aunts did, too. "Are you saying I'm somehow involved with your family curse? That's why you were told to avoid me?"
She touched his arm. "Don't worry about it. It's a bunch of nonsense."
That was exactly what he told his grandfather. The curse was nonsense. But it seemed a strange coincidence that Elsa's family would have a curse, too. "You . . . don't believe in the curse?"
"No." She smiled. "If I did, I wouldn't be here alone with you."
He swallowed hard. "Am I supposed to be some kind of threat to you?"
She shrugged. "I'd be scared to death if I was a feral pig."
"Elsa." He dragged a hand through his hair. "I would never hurt you."
She patted his arm. "Don't worry about it. I don't believe in the curse."
He took a deep breath. That was a relief, but still . . . how could both families have a curse? He cleared his throat. "This is going to sound strange, but my family has a curse, too."
Her mouth fell open. "Really?"
"Yes." He gave her a wry look. "See how much we have in common?"
She scoffed. "You're making that up."
"I'm serious. My grandfather has told me the curse story a million times."
"That's so strange." Her eyes narrowed. "What happens if your curse comes true?"
"My family line dies off. And yours?"
She looked away. "I die off."
He flinched. "Bull crap."
She snorted. "My feelings exactly."
He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "I won't let anything bad happen to you."
"I appreciate that, particularly from a guy who has some superpowers, but it's not necessary. I don't believe in the curse."
"Good. But why you?"
She shrugged. "Apparently it has something to do with my birthmark. Aunt Ula has the mark of a fish on her shoulder. And Aunt Greta has the mark of a bird - "
"Holy crap," he whispered. The Guardians of the Sea and Sky? He jumped to his feet and strode to the edge of the creek. It couldn't be true. Grandfather's story was a load of bull. This was just a coincidence.
How many coincidences did it take to make a reality? Three women in a family with strange birthmarks. Three guardians.
He turned to look at Elsa. Could she possibly be the third guardian? No, it couldn't be. He inhaled deeply to calm himself and caught the scent of many animals, all hiding nearby. He scanned the nearby woods and saw the glint of their eyes. The woodland creatures were staying a distance from him, but they were staring at Elsa.
The Guardian of the Forest.
He shook his head. No, it was nonsense. She couldn't be the descendant of a magical being who had created a race of were-bears and werewolves over a thousand years ago in Scandinavia. It was a stupid fairy tale.
But were-bears and werewolves existed. And Elsa was from Sweden. The animals were drawn to her. Hell, he was drawn to her. He'd felt an attachment the minute he first saw her.
"Howard?" She stood and walked toward him. "Are you all right?"
"Yeah." He raked a hand through his hair. Could she be a descendant of the woman who had betrayed his kind? He swallowed hard. Was he a descendant of the man who had murdered her?
"Don't let this curse nonsense upset you." She patted his arm. "I don't believe in it."
He pulled her into his arms. "I won't let anything hurt you. I promise."
"Howard." She leaned back to look at him. "Nothing will happen to me. I'll be fine."
He ran his fingers along her jaw, then traced the curve of her ear. "You're so beautiful."
"I - " She winced when he released the plastic claw that held her hair in place. "My hair is a wild mess."
"I know." He ran his hands through her hair, then leaned forward to nuzzle her neck and breathe in her sweet scent. "Wild is good," he whispered against her ear.
She shivered. "Howard."
"It will be all right." He brushed his lips against her cheek. "Elsa."
"My wish was about you," she whispered. "I wished that I could trust you."
"You can." He lowered his mouth to hers.
Chapter Twelve
Elsa's mind raced. Shouldn't she stop him? Weren't there a million reasons why she shouldn't kiss him? But all she could think was handsome Howard. She tilted her head back, closing her eyes. Hunky Howard.
His lips pressed gently against hers, then retreated. Hesitant Howard.
She opened her eyes. He was only inches away, his breath caressing her cheek. He watched her with a questioning look as if asking permission to proceed. And in that moment, as she gazed deep into his eyes, a wave of heat swept through her, melting her heart and filling her mind with a realization she suddenly knew to be true.
There was a duality about Howard. He was powerful, but restrained. Strong, but gentle. He could be aggressive, but also shy. Tough, but kind. She suspected his passion could swing from one extreme to the other - fierce to sweet. And God help her, she wanted to taste both.
She placed a hand on his cheek. He must have shaved before dinner, for his skin was soft and smooth.
"I started falling for you months ago when I first saw you on television," he whispered. "But I realize you only met me last night."
"You're waiting for me to catch up?"
A corner of his mouth curled up, and he nodded.
She grazed her finger over the dimple made by his half smile. She'd started falling for him the minute she saw him, too. He'd seemed like the perfect man until he'd activated the curse.
Why should she run away just because he made her birthmark hot? Did that matter, when he could make her hot all over? No other man had ever made her sizzle with desire. Only Howard.
She wrapped her hands around his neck. "I think I'm all caught up."
His eyes flared with heat. "Good." He slid his hands into her hair, cradling her face, as his gaze focused hungrily on her mouth.
She barely had time to draw in a quick breath before he pounced. No more hesitancy or sweetness. This was pure aggression. Oh, hot Howard.
He claimed possession, tasted her lips thoroughly, then demanded more, opening her mouth to invade with his tongue. She clung to his shoulders. Never before had she kissed a man taller than her, more powerful than her. A man who could lift her and carry her off like a giant He-Man. It was frightening, but exhilarating. For the first time in her life, she felt dainty and feminine. Sensual and desired.
She swirled her tongue around his, and an answering groan vibrated deep in his throat. She sucked him deeper inside her and he responded, wrapping his arms around her to pull her close. A thrill shot through her, hot and heady. He was big enough to dominate, but she wielded a womanly power that could bring him to his knees. It felt good. Raw and sexy. Powerful and passionate.
He broke the kiss and rested his forehead against her. "Elsa," he breathed. "You're killing me." He planted his large hands on her rump and pulled her against him.
She inhaled sharply. Huge Howard. Hard-as-a-rock Howard.
"That's how much I want you." He kissed her brow. "But don't worry. I won't ravish you in the woods like a wild beast."
For a second she wondered if she was disappointed. But then her brain kicked in. She was not the type to have a night of passion with a near stranger. Though to be honest, she'd never been tempted like this before.
He stepped back, releasing her. "Are you all right?"
She nodded. Cool air surrounded her, making her shiver, making her miss Howard's big, warm body.
He leaned over to pick up the plastic claw he'd dropped on the ground. As he wiped it clean on his pant leg, her gaze drifted. Huge Howard. Hot, heavy, hard Howard.
She shifted her weight to disguise the fact that she wanted to squirm. Don't think about it. She glanced up and discovered him watching her. Sheesh. Heat rushed to her face. He'd caught her ogling his crotch.
She turned away. "I don't usually . . . I should get back to my motel room. Alone." She winced inwardly, and her flushed cheeks flamed hotter. Awkward.
"Here." He offered her the plastic claw.
"Right." She quickly twisted her hair on the back of her head, then grabbed the claw from his hand and snapped it in place.
"Will you have dinner with me tomorrow night?"
"I - I'm not sure. My aunts might be here by then. I haven't seen Aunt Ula in a long time, so I should spend some time with her."
Howard's eyes widened. "She's coming from Sweden?"
"Yes. And Aunt Greta's driving in from Minneapolis."
"Is there a special occasion I should know about? Like a birthday?"
Or a murder? Elsa waved a dismissive hand. "It's nothing. They're just worried about the silly curse." Worried enough that Ula had left her beloved island and Greta was bringing weapons. But Elsa didn't want to mention that. Howard would think insanity ran in her family.
"Elsa." He stepped closer. "I won't let anything harm you."
Her breath caught at the low, rumbling intensity in his voice. And the fierce passion in his gaze. The more she looked into his deep blue eyes, the more she felt it. A sense of being attached. As if she'd been waiting for him all her life. As if their souls had searched for each other across the mists of time.
His gaze grew more heated, then he looked away. "I'd better walk you back before I forget my promise not to ravish you in the woods."
"Like a wild beast?"
He winced. "Did I say that?"
"Yes." She walked downstream and heard him mutter a curse under his breath before running to catch up with her.
Barely touching her elbow, he escorted her toward the entrance of the park. He was back to being gentle and sweet, she thought with a smile.
And she was falling for him hard.
A few hours later, she kicked at the sheet and blanket that had twisted around her legs from all her tossing and turning.
"Dammit." She sat up in bed. How could she sleep when she kept replaying Howard's kiss in her mind? And imagining what would have happened if she had invited him into her room. Hot Howard. He would have burned up her sheets. The smoke alarms would have gone off.
But he hadn't even kissed her at the door. He'd simply squeezed her hand and wished her a good night before walking back to the restaurant parking lot.
"He's a gentleman," she whispered to herself. That was a point in his favor.
Though gentlemen didn't usually kill feral pigs with a knife. She shook her head, refusing to dwell on that.
"He's good with children." There was no disputing that.
She ticked off more good points on her fingers. "He's sweet and protective. Intelligent and thoughtful. Handsome and . . . handsome." Double points for that.
But why this sudden need to list his good points? The answer pricked at her. She was trying hard not to think about his one, major bad point.
He'd made her birthmark burn. And according to his aunts, that made him a threat.
With a groan, she tilted her head back to stare at the ceiling. There's no curse. They were simply a man and a woman who were wildly attracted to each other.
Why shouldn't she enjoy it? Why couldn't she fall madly in love with him? She loved the way he made her feel. After a lifetime of feeling oversized and clunky, he made her feel beautiful. Wasn't that a gift she should treasure?
But why had he caused her birthmark to burn? What made him different from every other man she'd ever met? Was it the secret powers he possessed? Super hearing, super vision, super smell. He'd admitted to those. And he was super fast and strong to have killed those pigs.
She rubbed the mark on her shoulder. How strange that it was shaped like an animal paw, and he'd grown up on an island called The Paw.
She shook her head. It had to be a coincidence. Bears were common in Alaska, so a group of islands called The Bear Claw couldn't be considered odd. Bears were common in Scandinavia, too. Even her last name, Bjornberg, meant 'Bear Mountain.' Coincidences, nothing more. Her life had become so strange lately that she was looking for strangeness where it didn't exist.
