Robin Bielman: Veiled Target

“Okay.”

“Thank you.”

“For what?” She fidgeted, crinkled her freckled nose.

“Saving my life.”

He could see the wheels turning in her head and knew she was contemplating a smart-ass response.

She went with, “You’re welcome. Now it’s my turn. I’m sorry.”

“For what?” He fidgeted, lifted his brows.

She reached out and took his hands in hers, sending his body into an awesome addictive stupor.

“I’m sorry I ran away like I did. But I couldn’t stay. I couldn’t look at what I’d done for one more second.” Her chest rose and fell. “I wouldn’t take it back. Not any of it. And for so long I thought I was doing the right thing. For so long I’ve immersed myself in things to keep my mind off the fact that I was alone.

“I’ve loved only two people, well three, actually—my parents and Jason—and they died. I’ve been afraid to love again because I’m terrified to lose again.”

“I won’t—”

Her hand moved to his lips.

“Die on you,” he mumbled.

“There are no guarantees. But the excitement I feel when I’m with you, the adrenaline you pump through my system, not to mention the way you make my heart bloom, is something I know I’ll never experience with anyone else but you. And you’re worth the risk.”

“What are you saying?”

She whipped back her hands and punched him in the side of the arm. “I’m saying I surrender. And…I love you, you big oaf.”

He felt the smile on his face reach past his ears. He’d told her he wanted her to be his mate, but had he told her he loved her? No.

“I love you so much it hurts,” he said, pulling her into his arms.

“I know what you mean.”

She smashed her lips against his and he absorbed her essence into every cell of his being. Her body shimmied closer and he wondered if there was time for a quickie before he left on vacation.

Without warning, he pulled back. “You available this next week?”

“As a matter of fact, I am. I’m currently unemployed so haven’t got anywhere I need to be.”

Goddamn, he liked the sound of that. “Well, your timing couldn’t be more perfect. I was just leaving for vacation.”

“Got room for one more?” She ran her fingers through his hair.

“That depends. Do you accept?”

“If you’re referring to the mate thing, it’s forever right?” She twirled the hair at the nape of his neck, and tilted her head.

“Right. Think you can handle it?” He pinched her ass as he scooted her closer into his lap again.

“Oh!” she cooed. “I know I can. The question is can you?”

“You bet I can.”

“That reminds me,” she said, twisting her hips against him in an exaggerated come-and-get-me gesture. “You already owe me on one bet.”

“I think you just said something about a bet, but I’m having a hard time concentrating.”

She nibbled on his earlobe and lowered her voice. “You owe me breakfast, big guy. Anywhere I want.”

“How about for the rest of your life?”

“Deal.”

Robin Bielman lives in Southern California with her high school sweetheart husband, two sons and crazy-cute mini Labradoodle, Harry (named after Harry Dresden from Jim Butcher’s “Dresden Files” books). When not attached to her laptop, she can almost always be found with her nose in a book. She also likes to run, hike, and dip her toes in the ocean. Filled with wanderlust, she longs to visit many different places and fulfill her curiosity. She wouldn’t mind indulging her sweet tooth in every location either. She’s a lover of sticky notes, cable television shows and café mochas. Writing is a dream come true, and she still pinches herself to be sure it’s real.

She writes contemporary and paranormal romance and loves to connect with readers. Learn more and sign up for her newsletter on her website at www.robinbielman.com. She can also be found online here:

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