Chapter 11
The next morning passed in a blur. Most of the kids went down to the lake to swim, but Spencer refused, muttering that he didn’t have goggles with his special prescription.
Shan was grateful, as it gave him an excuse to stay at the cabin to keep the boy company, and thus avoid the sight of Leonie in swimwear.
They passed the time playing chess. After thrashing him three times in quick succession, Spencer retreated to read a physics textbook in offended silence.
There was no way Shan could explain to the boy that he had not, in fact, been letting him win.
It was hard to concentrate on even simple strategy with a far more difficult problem occupying his mind.
It should have been so simple. All he’d had to do was avoid Leonie and live the rest of his life in unrelenting misery. How had things gone so wrong, so quickly? How was he supposed to pretend to pretend that they were mates, without either her or the kids ever suspecting the truth?
By the time the rest of the pack came back for midmorning snack break, damp and smiling, he was no closer to an answer. He brooded over the problem as he herded them all to a picnic table and distributed cookies and juice.
Estelle eyed the two cookies still left on the plate. “Don’t you want yours, Shan?”
He shook his head. “I am not hungry.”
It was true. There was no hint of the usual raking cramps in his abdomen. No distracting emptiness; no aching need.
That worried him most of all.
His monster lurked at the bottom of his soul, silent and still. It wasn’t precisely satisfied—it never was—but he had a sense of watchful ease. It was the calm patience of a predator waiting at a watering hole, secure in the knowledge that the prey would come.
He only had himself to blame for that. He shouldn’t have told Leonie the kids knew who he was. For her own protection, it would have been far safer to let her continue to puzzle over their motivations for inventing the ghost story.
But she cared for those kids, deeply and fiercely. He couldn’t let her worry. Not when he could ease her mind.
He clenched his jaw, trying to ignore his monster’s smug anticipation. He’d have to be more careful in future. He couldn’t afford any more mistakes.
His gaze strayed to where Leonie was talking with a few other counselors out of earshot of any kids. As if sensing his eyes on her, she glanced over her shoulder. He quickly turned his head, pretending to be focused on the campers so she wouldn’t catch him staring—
Except… he could stare at her now, couldn’t he?
Cautiously, he let himself turn back to her. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Estelle nudge Beth, jerking her chin in his direction. There was a distinct outbreak of muffled giggles.
Leonie must also have noticed their covert audience, because her smile widened. She gave him a tiny nod of approval before turning back to her conversation.
She thought he was just playing along. Pretending to be obsessed with her in order to mislead the kids, like she’d asked.
A strange giddiness filled him. There was no need for caution. She hadn’t even considered the possibility that he might truly be her mate. He could stare at her with all the aching hunger in his heart, and she would have no idea it wasn’t a lie.
He could never touch her, never claim her… but at least he could look.
Before, he’d done his best to act as though he hadn’t even noticed her body. Now he drank in the sight of her greedily, lingering over every inch like a connoisseur savoring a fine wine.
He wanted to memorize every detail. The tanned curve of her calves, soft yet strong. Her rounded hips, which his hands ached to hold. The way her long golden braid flicked when she nodded; the concerned crinkle in her forehead as she listened to yet another counselor…
She was listening to a lot of counselors, he realized. He remembered her saying that as the head counselor, she couldn’t set foot in public without being swarmed by staff members with problems. At the time, he’d assumed she’d been exaggerating.
If this was anything like her typical day, she clearly had not.
The instant she finished speaking with one counselor, another appeared with some new question or concern.
He knew for a fact that she hadn’t sat down all morning, but she didn’t show the slightest sign of impatience or fatigue.
She welcomed each counselor with the same warm, inviting smile, giving them her full attention.
As he watched, she patted the latest petitioner on the shoulder, murmuring something. Looking much happier, the other counselor went back to her pack, leaving Leonie momentarily alone.
I could go over to her.
It was a tempting thought. He had the perfect excuse now, after all. The children would expect him to seek out his mate’s company at every opportunity. Leonie would assume he was just trying to mislead them.
Still, he held back. Much as he wanted to steal every minute with her he could, this was the first moment she’d had to herself. She wouldn’t want to be interrupted yet again.
Leonie looked around, as if expecting yet another counselor with an urgent problem to pop up at her elbow. Finding no-one waiting in line, her expression shifted to one of distinct relief.
Tucking her clipboard under her arm, Leonie headed for the coffee pots that the kitchen staff had set out for the counselors.
She managed a whole two steps before a young man scrambled up from a nearby table to intercept her.
Blocking her path, he launched into what seemed to be a pre-prepared speech, gesturing animatedly with his hands.
Leonie cast a brief, rather longing look at the coffee. Then she was all attention, listening to her colleague’s monologue as if she had all the time in the world.
Shan watched for a few minutes. Then he went over to the coffee pot, poured a fresh cup, and added a generous splash of cream. Mug in hand, he headed for Leonie.
“Yes, I know you’ve already set the activity schedule for next week,” the man was saying as Shan quietly came up behind him. “But I really think that a softball tournament would—”
Shan’s shadow fell across him. The young man casually glanced round, then up. He made a strangled sound, stuttering to a halt.
“Shan!” Leonie said, with a rather gratifying level of enthusiasm. “Sorry, Don. Hold that thought for a moment. Did you need something, Shan?”
“No.” He handed her the mug. “But you looked like you did.”
“You’re an angel.” She took a grateful sip. “Just the way I like it, too. Thanks.”
The man she’d been talking to cleared his throat pointedly. “As I was saying—”
“Can it wait?” Shan interrupted.
From Don’s expression, he wasn’t used to people talking over him. “Excuse me?”
“Can it wait?” Shan repeated in the same flat, level tones.
Don drew himself up in indignation. “Now, look here. Leonie and I have important business to discuss. If you want to speak to her, you’ll just have to—”
Shan looked at him.
“Uh.” Don swallowed hard, stepping back. “Yes. Yes, it definitely could.”
“Truth,” Shan murmured as Don fled. He moved to Leonie’s side, close enough to deter anyone else who might be thinking of interrupting. “Sit down and drink your coffee. I’ll stand guard.”
Leonie gave him an exasperated look but allowed him to guide her to an empty bench. “You didn’t have to drive him off like that.”
“No.” Since he had no doubt someone would try to join her if he didn’t, he sat as well. “You could have told him he was interrupting your break, and that you’d talk to him later. Why didn’t you?”
Leonie shrugged, taking another drink. “It’s Don’s first summer here, and he’s still finding his feet. I didn’t want him to feel I’d shot down his idea without giving it due consideration. Besides, it’s my job to be there for the other staff members.”
“You are off duty.”
She scoffed. “I’m the head counselor. I’m never off duty.”
He could taste that she genuinely believed it. “So I have observed. But I think that if you noticed one of the other staff members was constantly sacrificing their free time to help others, you would insist they take a break.”
She wrinkled her nose at him. “Okay, okay, point made. But this isn’t a nine-to-five sort of job. Honestly, I like it when counselors or kids come to me with their problems. It means they trust me to help.”
Vanilla and honey… and a trace of something richer. A core truth; the essence of who she was. “You like to be needed.”
“I suppose so.” She landed a little closer, lowering her voice. “Okay, your turn. Why do you do what you do?”
The question took him by surprise. “It is useful. The best way of utilizing my ability for the benefit of others, regardless of my nature.”
“It also means you’re spending a lot of time with people who are lying. Isn’t that difficult for you?”
No-one had ever asked him that before. “It is… often not pleasant.”
“Does that upset your animal?”
His monster stirred, as baffled by this conversation as he was. “Yes.”
She nodded at his gloved hands, resting in his lap. “Which makes that worse?”
“Yes.”
“Mm-hmm.” She took another sip of coffee, amber eyes lingering on him over the rim of the mug. “Seems to me you’re not in a position to be lecturing other people about being too self-sacrificing, Shan.”
He had the sensation of having walked straight into a pit trap. All he could think to say was, “That is different.”
“If you say so,” Leonie replied, in the smug tone of someone who knew they’d won the argument. She raised her mug to her lips. “Don’t look now, but Beth and the others are watching us. They probably think you chased poor Don off out of jealousy.”
He was all too aware of the fascinated stares. “If so, they are incorrect.”
“Let’s not tell them that.” She hesitated, searching his face. “Shan, I know your animal is repulsed by lies. Does that make it difficult to lie yourself?”