Outfoxed by Love (Kodiak Point Book 2) (7 page)

Yellow
-bellied coward.
Yes, those words rang in his mind in Jan’s accusatory voice. He didn’t care. This bullheaded moose wasn’t about to let a few sweet kisses change his mind. Sweet embraces changed nothing. Boris wasn’t the man for Jan.

A few more deep
lungfuls of sharp, crisp air later and he felt ready to go when he caught motion from the corner of his eye. Not a big deal, except for the fact it was man-shaped and furtive.

In a town of
several hundred, there were no real strangers and everyone said hello. Even if you’d banged a guy’s sister and never called her back and he hated your freaking guts, you said “Hey”. Poor Rodney got more than his fair share of fat lips trying to defend his sister’s nonexistent honor.

But back to who would be lurking in the parking lot. If this were high school, he’d think it was smoking teens. If this were anywhere but
Beark Enterprises, with Reid in the office, he’d think it was some dock workers sharing a reefer. However, on the outskirts of town, placing it close to the mine, and with vacant acres around should they need to expand, the company wasn’t exactly a hotspot for traffic of any kind.

G
iven the trouble they’d encountered with a certain discontented shifter, intent on causing havoc with the clan, Boris didn’t think he should take chances.

With long strides, the only kind a
n almost seven foot man ever took, he crossed the parking lot, the dawning dark enough to cast deep shadows and force him to strain his eyes. He didn’t spot any more motion, but he did catch the lingering fresh scent of … flowers? In the deep of winter?

Brow creased, he peeked around, sniffing to pinpoint the source
, which turned out to be the front seat of an SUV. Not just any SUV. Jan’s.

What the hell?

He yanked the door handle to her truck, which opened because no one in these parts ever bothered locking them. In a neat, thick bundle on the front seat lay a bouquet of red roses.

What the fuck?

Who the hell is leaving my vixen flowers?
Did she have a boyfriend? A lover…

Suddenly enraged, he grabbed the bundle and strode back to the office, not pausing to analyze his
actions or why he felt like swapping skins to let his rampaging moose out to find someone to toss in the air and skewer on his rack. Never mind his antlers didn’t have the sharpest of tines. He’d make it work even if he had to pin the bastard to a wall and slam the blunt tip against him a few times to impale him.

Yeah!

Slamming the outer door shut, then the inner door of the office, he stomped his way back in, only to halt mid-step as Jan barked, “Dry those boots off, mister, or remove them. I will not slip in puddles because you lack manners.”

To think he’d erroneously thought her docile.
He growled as, with great exaggeration, he scuffed his snowy boots whilst holding the bouquet aloft.

She arched a brow. “That better not be for me.”

“I will damn well growl at you if I like,” he said, still in a very growly kind of mood.

“You’ll what? I meant—Oh never mind.”

Feet dried, he tramped his way to her desk and slapped the fragrant flowers down, sending wilted petals scattering onto her desk. Keeping flowers fresh this time of year and out here wasn’t easy. In spite of their sad state, whoever got them must have paid a pretty penny, the fucking jerk. “Care to explain this?”

She cast a glance at the bouquet. “They’re flowers.
Roses to be exact.”

“And who are they from?”

“Doesn’t matter, because I don’t want them.”

“
Why not? They’re from your boyfriend,” he snapped.

Her face brightened, and Boris felt a pang of hurt at her obvious joy at the mention of the man he
so wanted to kill. “My boyfriend? Is that what you’re calling yourself now?” she asked with a smile.

Say what?
“Me? I’m not your bloody boyfriend. I’m talking about the secretive bastard who left these in your truck. You could have told me before I kissed you that you were seeing somebody.”

The joy lighting her face extinguished
, and it didn’t take long for him to grasp the misunderstanding as she said, “I don’t have a boyfriend, and if you aren’t the one who bought me these flowers, then I have no idea what or whom you’re talking about.”

“
So you don’t have a boyfriend?” he repeated. It didn’t escape him that when she’d thought he referred to himself she’d seemed more than happy.

“I wouldn’t have kissed you if I did,” she retorted. “I might have a sex
ually healthy appetite, but I’m not a two-timing light skirt.”

“But then who are these from?” he asked
, perversely pleased at Jan’s single state.

“How would I know? I’ve never seen them before. First I heard of them was when you threw them on my desk. You said you found them in my truck? What were you doing snooping in it?”

“I wasn’t snooping. I saw something suspicious and investigated.”

“Of course, because rare blooms are so dangerous.”
She rolled her eyes.

“Stop mocking me.
”

“Then stop acting like a donkey instead of a moose.”

Before they got further off track, he jabbed a finger at the wilting foliage. “So you don’t know who they’re from?”

“Not yet. But I intend to find out.” Then, in a move women everywhere must have bargained for with the devil, she proceeded to put his sleuthing skills to shame and mak
e him look like an ass—instead of a moose—by pulling out an envelope tucked amidst the leaves.

A less
-than-rational part of him thought he should grab it and read it first. And then hunt down the guy who left it, beat him to a pulp and teach him to poach a moose’s vixen.

The cold soldier who’d learned to compartmentalize throttled that impulse and watched
dispassionately—with fists clenched—as she opened it, read it, and gasped.

Elation to dismay, and all in the space of minutes.

Talk about a roller coaster of emotions. When Boris stalked back in bearing a bouquet of roses and tossed them on her desk claiming they were from her boyfriend, for one brief shining moment, she’d actually thought he meant himself. That in the past few weeks, where their glimpses of each other proved scarce because Boris kept himself busy with out-of-town trips, he’d had time to think things over. Surely he’d relived the kisses they’d shared. The passion that simmered. Like her, he must feel the magnetic draw between them.

No
t even close. She’d misconstrued his words. He wasn’t declaring himself with the flowers. He was accusing her … of what exactly? You couldn’t cheat on someone who didn’t belong to you.

Striving to keep a hold of her emotions, Jan distracted herself by plucking free the card in the leaves and reading the note.

A gasp escaped her. “Oh, how romantic.”

Roses are red, snow is pure white,

As a vixen you are stunning,

One day you’ll be my wife.

Signed,
Your Ghostly admirer.

Th
e missive was practically ripped from her grip as Boris grabbed it. He scanned it, his lips tightening, his brow creasing, a rumble shaking his frame. In that moment, he was more animal than man. So sexy. Especially since she finally grasped the reason for his rage—jealousy.

Ha. You might be trying to ignore me, but only because you care.

“Who is this from?” he demanded.

“I don’t know, but I like his style.”

“You like a criminal who breaks into your SUV and leaves you a stalker’s manifesto!”

She couldn’t help it
, she laughed. “Stalker’s manifesto?” The more he glowered, the harder she chortled.

“This isn’t funny, Jan. Aren’t you disturbed at all that some guy has been spying on you and is fixated enough to break into your truck and threaten to marry you?”

“It’s a poem, Boris, not a bomb. And yes, I do think it’s sexy.” She combed fingers through her hair. “I wonder who it is? Maybe that hot new guy they hired to run the mine? I hear he’s single.”

“
You shouldn’t date company workers,” Boris blurted.

She waved a negligent hand. “Bah. The mine is technically a whole other company. And besides, Reid never made that a formal policy. It’s more of
a if-you-date-and-break-up,-either-learn-to-work-together-or-I’ll-fire-you kind of thing.”

“If
this new mine manager is so goddamned hot, then why didn’t he bring the flowers to you in person?”

“Maybe he’s shy,” she mused, stifling a giggle at his grumble
s. Yes, she delighted in torturing him. Who would have thought a jealous Boris would prove so fun, and sexy.

“Or it’s not one of the townsfolk at all. Maybe it’s a trap to get y
ou to let down your guard.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I only know of one guy with the nickname Ghost. Gene.”

“Gene, your old
army buddy? The one you all thought was dead who was harassing Reid?”

“The one and only.
”

“But why would he target me? I’ve never even met the man.”

“How the hell would I know why? The guy’s fucking crazy. Just because Gene and his gang have been lying low since the incident doesn’t mean they’re done. Maybe this is a ploy.”

“A ploy?
To do what? Deprive Reid of the best secretary and personal assistant a man could ask for?”

“To get at me.”

Jan blinked. “Get at you? How is leaving me flowers attacking you?”

“Because.”

Boris might not say it, but given his actions recently, Jan could guess. In denial or not, Boris cared about her. Cared enough that this Gene person, if he was indeed spying and out for revenge, might think that, by acting against Jan, he’d hurt Boris.

Awesome.
But how to get Boris to admit it? “Or maybe you’re just paranoid. I am single after all. Is it so farfetched to believe a man might want to do something romantic like leave me flowers?”

“
Until we know for sure, you need protection.”

“I’ve got protection right here.” She patted her holstered gun.

“Not good enough. I’m in town for the next few days until the next truck run goes out. I guess I’ll have to stick close to you and make sure there’s no threat.”

If he’d said it without a moue of distaste, she might have felt a spurt of pleasure, or hope. But no, he had to look as if he sucked a lemon. Jerk.
“Oh no you don’t. I don’t need your big clunky moose self getting in my way. Why, if you’re glued to me, however will my secret admirer make his next move?”

“Exactly.”

Despite her protests, Boris remained nearby. He glowered from a corner in the warehouse as she ticked off an item list against the most recent delivery. He sulked in a chair in the office as she caught up on email. He shadowed her in his truck as she drove to the grocery store. And when he followed her inside? She made him pay by stooping often to snag items she didn’t really need from low shelves.

Her antics didn’t result in another impromptu kiss, but they had an effect judging by the simmering heat in his gaze whenever her eyes met his.

Once she reached her place, as she opened the back of her SUV to grab her groceries, he was there, taking the bags from her.

“I can carry them myself.”

“Don’t argue. Open the damned door so you stop making a target of yourself.”

Yes, because her townhouse in the middle of town was so likely to come under attack. Given
Boris’ rapier-like watch of the shadows, which stretched in the waning daylight, he thought it possible.

She unlocked her door and let them in. He kicked off his boots without being told and in
stocking clad feet—practical wooly ones with reinforced toes—carried her bags to the kitchen and deposited them on the counter. Mission accomplished, she expected him to leave. Instead, he roamed her space, looking behind furniture, inside closets.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Guarding you.”

“
Can’t you do that from outside?” Because, despite the openness of her kitchen, his size dwarfed it and made her all too aware of him. While she would welcome a repeat kiss—or more—she didn’t want to be the one tempted into giving in first. She meant what she’d said and promised herself before. If Boris wanted her, he’d have to prove it.

But, then again, a little nudge or push wouldn’t hurt.
Unless he was on the edge of a cliff. She’d reserve that for later if his stubbornness proved too much.

“I need to make sure no one’s infiltrated your home.”

She could have told him no one had. Nothing got by her sharp nose. But, if it made him feel better, let the man skulk. She’d just finished putting away her groceries when he hit the stairs to check out the second floor.

Her inner vixen perked up.
He’s going to be in my bedroom.
It was too good an opportunity to ignore. She caught him as he exited her en suite, sensed him really, as she had her rear end facing the door and felt the skin of her bare back tingle.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice rougher than usual.

She cast him a coy glance over her shoulder. “Taking off my shirt.”

“Jan, I know that kiss from earlier was probably confusing. But nothing has changed.”

She laughed. “You think I’m stripping for you?” She whirled around, clad in her jeans, bra, and holster. “Sorry to disappoint, big guy. I’m just taking this sucker off. It’s all well and good to wear my gun in public, but I’m home now, and I’ve got weapons stashed all over the place. So might as well get comfortable.” Holding his gaze, she skimmed her hands over her body to undo the clasps holding it in place.

He visibly swallowed. “Do you have to do that in front of me
?”

Yes. She liked the fact he couldn’t tear his eyes from her. “Don’t tell me I’m making you uncomfortable? We’re shifters. We see naked people all the time.”

“But they’re not you.”

The words were practically whispered, and for a moment, she thought she’d imagined them, except Boris practically ran from her room, his heavy steps tr
amping down the stairs. The slam of the door followed only a moment after.

Jan smiled.
I will outfox you yet, my big moose.