Hunting Season: Werewolf Bodyguard Romance (Guarded by the Shifter Book 1)

was destroyed after Hurricane Charles a few years ago. Not much time to sip Mai Tais on the beach, I'm afraid."
"Oh." He should have read the file closer. And he should have read it again after meeting her. Nothing about the woman he'd been following all day matched with the picture he'd drawn in his head. He needed to stop judging her against what he expected.
But now Stasia was on a roll. "I get it. You think I'm some spoiled princess with too much money and a daddy ready to sweep in and solve every problem."
She was spoiling for a fight, and the shock of seeing Hill, of that flashback, was still fresh in his mind, keeping him on edge. Owen knew he should deescalate, but he was right on the edge and he wanted more.
He ran his hand over the cherry wood of one of the shelves. "This house sure says so. What's it cost? Three, four million?" He shared a place with Andre out in Queens, and even there the rent was disgusting.
She shook her head. "I'm not defending myself to you."
Somehow they'd ended up standing close together. All Owen had to do was reach out and pull her body flush with his before he covered her mouth with his lips and gave her the searing kiss she deserved.
She was thinking the same thing. Her eyes flicked down to his lips and then back up to meet his. Was that a dare he saw? Or was he aching too much to read this right?
His wolf whimpered and scratched inside of his skin, begging him to take her, to make her his. He wanted her wearing his mark, wanted everyone to know that she belonged to him. It was primal and possessive and nothing like Owen had ever felt before.
It terrified him, and yet he couldn't back away from it.
Stasia held a hand up, just an inch away from his chest. He leaned in against it and could feel his heart pounding against her palm.
Her tongue darted out and wet her lips. This was happening. Nothing in the world was strong enough to tear them apart.
Nothing except for the good doctor herself.
She jerked her hand away and took two steps so she was half out the library door. "I'm in for the night. No more running away. You can sleep in the guest room."
She was running away. She could feel the heat pounding between them. She wanted him as much as he wanted her. But she was running.
And his wolf was eager for the chase.

Chapter Eight
Was she out of her goddamn mind? In the hour since the meeting with her security detail, Stasia had been hiding in her room. She could pretend it was because it was the most secure room in her house, but she wasn't sure that was accurate. And it definitely wasn't true.
She was hiding from Owen.
She could still feel the heat of his body on her hand, the imprint of his skin and muscles, even if there had been his shirt between them. And now all she could imagine was what it would feel like if that shirt wasn't there. Would he be as toned as she imagined? Would he have chest hair for her fingers to play in? Or would he be all smooth and sleek?
Thinking about it was going to drive her nuts. It was all just hormones and pent up horniness. She hadn't been laid since… oh god, she couldn't remember the last time she had sex. She wasn't exactly the cuddly type and relationships didn't come easy. And one night stands? No, thanks. She needed to know her bed partners.
She didn't know Owen, but that didn't seem to matter to her brain… or her lady bits.
The shower turned on, and she could imagine what Owen looked like all naked under the hot spray. But she wasn't going to. He was her employee. That was creepy. There was a power dynamic that couldn't be avoided.
And that was a steaming pile of bullshit excuses that Stasia was certain would dissolve the next time she laid eyes on him.
But with Owen in the shower, it meant she could sneak downstairs without the risk of seeing him.
That was good. If he could be her invisible shadow for the next week, that would be absolutely fucking peachy. Her life was spinning out of control and so were her hormones, and she needed to get control of something.
Dinner. Dinner was something she could control.
She felt like a prisoner in her own house when she paused at the door to her bedroom and listened carefully to make sure the water was still running. It was. She hoped Owen liked long showers. She wouldn't even begrudge him the hot water.
Had she really touched him like that?
Had they really almost kissed?
Stasia couldn't put it out of her mind, and she kept flexing her hand involuntarily, as if that would make the memory of his body go away.
There were plenty of stories of women she knew getting tangled up in affairs with their bodyguards. It wasn't exactly unheard of. But it felt so stereotypical. Poor little rich girl gets threatened. Big, strong, sexy man swoops in to protect her. They fall into bed together and end up with a bunch of messy emotions.
No thanks.
She ate some leftovers and tried to put Owen out of her mind, even as it occurred to her that she would need to feed the man. She pulled a pad of Post-Its out of a drawer and stuck one on the fridge after instructing Owen to eat anything he wanted.
Host duties taken care of, she sat at her small kitchen table and contemplated what to do for the rest of the week. She had two more volunteer shifts at the clinic scheduled, but she couldn't bring her bullshit there. She tapped out an email to her supervisor and let her know she wasn't coming in this week.
There. Schedule cleared.
How sad was that?
Luna already expected not to