Wolf Fever

“No. Of course not. She was human at the time. They wouldn’t have involved her. But she either wittingly or unwittingly overheard the conversation, and I’d like to know which, for the record.”

“Hmm, then why don’t you prove it once and for all? Have her work with you on a case, and let her help you solve it. What if she’s not psychic but just very good at discovering leads, like you are? Maybe if you gave this woman half a chance…” His sister had a way of sounding facetious when it suited her.

“Even if I wanted to, I doubt her pack leader would agree with my mating her.” That slipped out before he had a chance to stop his words. Hell. The truth of the matter was that if he wanted her and she was mutually agreeable, no one would be an obstacle in their match.

Rosalind’s lips parted, and then she quickly smiled.

He let out his breath in exasperation. He refused to openly admit to Rosalind that the petite, blue-eyed blonde was on his mind twenty-four-seven. So much so that he couldn’t concentrate on any P.I. case, nor could he keep a close handle on being mayor of Green Valley and pack leader. Ryan couldn’t pinpoint what got to him about her the most. Yeah, she was a looker, but he wouldn’t have noticed if not for all the attention she had received for solving the murder case through sharing her psychic knowledge.

That wasn’t true, either. Her looks had definitely caught his eye. But the way she tried to protect Lelandi from being turned, not knowing she was already a lupus garou from birth, and Carol’s strength in not falling apart during the battle that could have killed her—that she didn’t run away in stark terror—those attributes kept nagging at him.

“You won’t know if Darien doesn’t agree to your mating her until you try. You can’t deny it, Ryan. You can’t quit looking at those photos, and now you’ve offered to be her bodyguard? But of course she suggested it, which to me sounds like she’s in as deep as you are in this… situation. You can’t disagree with me that you’re dying to be with her longer. Oh sure, you’ve tried to appear as though you are leisurely getting ready to leave, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this seriously unsettled and distracted over anything. Or anyone.”

Ryan shook his head and stalked toward the back door. The red who was skulking around Darien’s place needed to be caught and confronted. In the meantime, Carol and Lelandi needed to be protected. That was all.

“If you cut any more wood, we will no longer have a forest,” Rosalind teased.

Ryan shoved the door open and slammed it closed behind him, then stared at the pile of wood stacked as high as the two-story potting shed. Rosalind was right. As much as he hated admitting it. They had enough firewood for three winters at least.

Fine. He’d take a run on the wild side. Clear his thoughts on a long jog through the woods now shivering in a northerly breeze before he took off for Silver Town.

Ryan stalked to the shed. Inside, the aroma of wet peat earth filled the air, while flowers erupted from cold-hardy bulbs in rectangular planters and winter-tender plants snuggled close together on top of plant heating mats. The shed was Rosalind’s “baby” nursery, and she defended the place with wolfish fierceness—nothing could be changed without her permission.

Not that he minded. He was glad she had an occupation she so thoroughly enjoyed and that kept her out of his business—for the most part—and out of trouble. He quickly removed his shirt, boots, socks, and jeans, and then deposited them on a small wooden bench. The brisk cold chilled him to the bone. Which helped to freeze his thoughts of Carol Wood and her inquisitive blue eyes.

Then, his muscles heated with the change, stretching and accommodating the shift swiftly until he was standing on all four paws, the double coat of fur warming him better than any human-made coat could.

The shorter, fine fuzzy undercoat trapped a layer of warm air next to his skin, while the longer, coarse guard hairs repelled any hint of frost or snow or rain. Long tufts of hair growing between the pads of his feet gave him a good grip as he raced across the thin sheen of ice already covering the back patio while circling the place to make sure Rosalind would be all right. Although his deputy had told him he’d hang around to check on her two or three times a day.

Hell, Ryan had enough work to do here, and none of it included taking on the problems of a newly turned female. So why was he really bound for Darien Silver’s territory after a quick run in his wolf coat?

Ryan cursed his unwanted desire to be with the woman again, but after taking a run on the wild side and ensuring that everything was quiet around his place, he didn’t feel any more settled. He changed in the garden shed, returned to the house, and gave his sister a hug with a few choice words of instruction. She eagerly agreed to follow them, which made him suspect she wouldn’t. Then he hurried to his truck.

Darien had dictated that he sleep in the sunroom on a sofa bed. How was Ryan going to protect Carol if he slept on the other side of the house?

He’d have to twist the rules. His job—his way.

“Just who’s paying Ryan to be Carol’s bodyguard?” Darien asked Lelandi as he paced across the master bedroom down the hall. Carol heard a hint of wry humor in his tone as she pulled off her clothes in the private bathroom adjoining her guestroom.

Carol hated that her sense of hearing was so good that she could make out every word—muffled but still audible if they spoke loud enough. She figured most werewolves tuned out conversations they didn’t want to listen to. But she wasn’t able to do that yet, especially when the conversation was about her. That made her feel as though she was another Silva, overhearing exchanges that she wasn’t meant to hear.

“Darien, Carol is willing to pay for his services, but it’s our place to do so since the red in our territory most likely was from my old pack. So my responsibility, which means yours.”

“We don’t need an outsider bodyguard,” Darien grouched. Now he sounded annoyed. “What is it with McKinley anyway? He’s acting mayor of Green Valley, now full-time active pack leader, and he’s still haunting our town.”

“He’s got a thing for Carol. Surely you see that as well as anyone here does.”

Darien growled.

“What if he’s the right one for her? I mean, Jake or Tom could be, but they haven’t shown anything more than brotherly affection for her. Tom’s more protective and Jake delights in teasing her, yet he’d protect her with his life. But Ryan… well, you saw the way he danced with her. And before that, the way he came to her rescue when Mervin tackled her. I didn’t get to see it, but Silva said they shared some kiss outside by the house. You know how she is. She’s an alpha. She needs someone who’s strong of character like she is. Ryan would make a good match.”

“We have plenty of pack members who would make her a good match. An alpha werewolf doesn’t have to have an alpha mate. For all we know, she might need a man that she can boss around.” The floor creaked some more with his pacing. “All right, so McKinley comes here to fortify our forces, but it irritates the hell out of me that he thinks our men can’t protect her. I’m only allowing this because you wish it.”

No more words were spoken. No need to eavesdrop any longer.

Carol started the shower and turned on some New Age music. Next would come the lovemaking. At least the shower and music drowned out the moans and groans.

Carol climbed into the shower and closed her eyes as the hot water sluiced over her skin. Was Lelandi right in thinking Ryan was truly interested in her? The sexual interest was there, that was for sure. Every time she got close to him, her blood sizzled. Her heart pounded at an increased tempo.

But it wasn’t just her response to him. His actions triggered her hormones to skip around in an excited frenzy. The way he observed her—although she had to remind herself he was probably trying to figure her out—and the way his gaze filled with admiration at times, lust at others, she knew she had more of an effect on him than he was letting on.

Even if they weren’t a match, she was determined to prove to him, while he served as her bodyguard, that her psychic abilities were real. She shouldn’t have cared if he believed her or not. She imagined that more than half of the world’s population didn’t have faith in such things. But she did care that he believed. That he knew she had been honest with him.

She grabbed the container of liquid body soap and squeezed some into her hand. Then she slid the pearl-like soap over her shoulders, breasts, and stomach.

A distinctive thump sounded nearby, muffled by the water rushing in a heavy spray out of the showerhead. Darien dropping a boot on his bedroom floor? It sounded like it had come from her guestroom, though. She listened intently but didn’t hear anything further except for the continued stream of water shlushing out of the showerhead and the mystical New Age rhythm of drumbeats, flutes, and pipe whistles. Had to have been Darien or Lelandi making a noise. Or just her imagination.

She ran shampoo through her hair and over her face, the scent of peaches filling her nostrils with the sweet, refreshing fragrance. Her fingers swept the silky soap down her arms.

After that, everything happened so quickly that it was a blur. The rings of the shower curtain slid aside. The cooler air from the bathroom hit her wet skin. The smell of the onions and garlic the intruder had eaten permeated the air, right before a painful jab penetrated her arm. Her eyes and mouth shot open. Soap burned her eyes, tears forming instantly to wash away the stinging but further blurring her vision. A heavy hand clamped over her mouth to muffle her scream.

Heat quickly spread through her blood, and she felt as if she were slipping into nothingness. The hot water still ran over her, her eyes burning, and whispered words penetrating the darkness as someone held her tight. The smell of man and woods, of sweat and fear clouded her senses.

“Asleep. Let’s get her out of here before we get caught,” the man said in a rush, his voice hushed.

She didn’t recognize his harsh and concerned voice. Her last thought was to wonder where her bodyguard was when she needed him so badly. Damn Darien for forcing Ryan to sleep in the sunroom on the other side of the house. If he’d even returned from Green Valley to watch over her yet. But she’d heard Lelandi arguing with Darien once they’d returned home from the tavern. Heard that Darien hadn’t wanted Ryan in the same room with her. That it would stir up the other bachelor males. That it would encourage Ryan to want Carol for a mate. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">