
STRANDED WITH A CAJUN WEREWOLF
By Selena Blake
Her eyelashes fluttered for a moment and he held his breath, scrutinizing every tiny movement. Then those aqua eyes pegged him again and his breath came whooshing out. She looked totally out of it. Tired, sleepy, traumatized. But she didn't panic in his arms. Perhaps she didn't---
"Are you an angel?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
Her question startled a laugh from him. Damn, it felt good to laugh. For a man who prided himself on his easy going nature, he'd been far too tense these last few months.
"I've been called many things, but never an angel." I was the guy cursing at you as you almost ran me off the road. I'm the idiot who can't stop wondering who you are and what you're running away from. And I'm the man who can't stop looking at your lips, wondering what they'll taste like.
A hint of a smile curved her lips and she laid a hand over his heart. "A fallen angel?" Payment of the download fee for this ebook grants the purchaser the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to download and read this file, and to maintain a private backup copy of the file for the purchaser's personal use ONLY.
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2011 Selena Blake
Dear Reader,
I firmly believe in true love and second chances. Burke's book was a long time in coming. He had secrets he didn't want to share. We're all like that I suppose. But in his case, his secrets brought back memories he really didn't want to tackle. In fact, he put on an easy going exterior and hid it all behind a smiling mask...until he meets Kendall.
It was quite a challenge to get him to open up, but I think the effort was worth it. All he needed was true love and a second chance. I'm hoping you enjoy this last Stormy Weather story. I can't say writing it was all peaches and roses but in the end, I love how it came out.
This is the longest of the five Stormy Weather books and I hope you'll find that I've wrapped up all loose ends and answered all your questions.
As always, I'd love to hear what you think. I can be reached at selenablake@gmail.com
or via my website http://www.selenablake.com.
Stay sexy,
Selena
To all the new fans and long time fans who pushed, prodded, and begged for Burke's book. This one's for you. Enjoy!
Other Books by Selena Blake
Series: Stormy Weather
The Cajun's Captive
Bitten in the Bayou
Seduced by a Cajun Werewolf (previously titled Bound & Determined) Mated to a Cajun Werewolf
Surprising Darcy
Just a Little Taste (previously titled The Wine Tasting) Series: Deep Space Encounters
Reclaiming Isis
Rescuing Natacha
Azula's Rebellion
The car came out of nowhere, horn blaring, bright lights reflecting off the curtains of falling snow. Burke Deveraux let out a curse as a streak of red passed him on the left. His wipers swiped across the windshield, trying in vain to keep the thick snow at bay. Didn't that lunatic driver realize they were in the middle of a blizzard? On a mountain road?
Despite the snow chains, the tires of his Land Rover slipped on the icy slush and his hands tightened on the wheel. Just ten more miles and he'd be to the cabin. Give or take a few.
He'd driven this road for years, but with all the white stuff coming down, it was hard to gage exactly where he was. The only thing that mattered was that he was long gone from Louisiana and whatever was in the water.
There was no other explanation for four devoted bachelors to all find love in the span of five months. And while he was happy that they'd found their mates, and he couldn't wait to become an uncle, he much preferred his bachelor lifestyle.
His brother and cousins had started talking to him finding his mate the moment André and Juliette had gotten back together. And over the last few weeks, they hadn't let up. Even the women were in on it. The moment his favorite ski resort had announced an early season opening, he'd high tailed it out of there.
Burke didn't want a mate.
He just wanted some peace and quiet and to catch some fresh powder. And to forget the memories that clawed at him every time he saw one the women that had infiltrated Deveraux pack.
What he hadn't bet on was trading hurricanes for the blizzard bearing down on him now. Or the flash of red that jerked his attention to the side of the road.
He stepped hard on the breaks, trying to avoid the red car and the snow bank. For a nauseating moment the world was a streak of white. Burke's hands strangled the steering wheel as he fought to keep the tires on the road.
The antilock brakes kicked in and the vehicle slowed, but Burke exhaled too soon.
In the blink of an eye the tires slipped in the slick snow and the back wheels swung right. Curses rent the air and his luggage rolled around like a pebble in a tin can. Gin let out a startled bark from the back seat.
Finally, when everything was still, the SUV was pointed down the mountain. A gust of wind cleared enough snow out of the air that he could see the bright red car half buried by a pile of snow/half dangling off the side of the mountain.
He unclenched his teeth, worked his jaw and huffed out a sigh. So much for a relaxing vacation.
The formerly groggy Labrador was now wide-awake in the backseat. Gin let out a deep bark and smacked Burke in the cheek with his tail. He let out another woof, his nose pressed against the side window.
"You all right?"
Gin sighed in that purely canine way that said he wasn't thrilled with the situation.
The other driver made no move to back out of the dune and Burke figured that the idiot had wrecked his car. He pulled out his cell phone and flipped it open. He'd report the wreck and wait until the wrecker got here. If the wrecker got here.
No signal.
Great. He tossed the phone aside and reached behind the passenger's seat for his coat.
Maybe the lunatic in the other car had a phone that would work. Tendrils of snow swooshed into the car as he opened the door. Bracing against the icy wind he planted one boot in the ankle deep snow and then the other.
Tugging on his thick Northface coat he headed down the road toward the other car once again questioning his decision to try to beat the storm.
The collision had killed the engine, mangling what he could see of the front end.
Ah hell.
A blonde lay hunched over the steering wheel, not moving. Blood soaked the back of her grey sweatshirt. He knocked on the window and wished he'd tugged on his gloves. The woman didn't move. He peered into the car, looking for a phone, and saw a large purse wedged between her chest and the steering wheel.
He tested the handle of her door. Locked. Figured. The small window behind the driver's seat was shattered, half the glass missing. He reached through the gaping hole and flipped the lock.
Wrenching the door open he checked the pulse at her throat. Still thumping. He braced both hands around her neck and the base of her skull and then, as gently as he could, settled her back in her seat and took stock of her injuries.
And arrestingly adorable features. She looked like an angel, a cherub, with glossy pink lips. With a bloody gash across her forehead and --- was that a pink streak in her hair? He leaned closer. And a thick purple stripe too.
A fierce wind howled over head, making the trees sway and groan. She gave a soft moan, and then, as if she'd awoken, her body went rigid.
"You're okay, petit. Just relax. Where do you hurt?" Stunning aqua blue eyes met his for an instant before she closed them again, wincing.
The fear he'd glimpsed there shocked him. "Please," she said, her voice hoarse and barely a whisper. He leaned toward her to hear over the roar of the elements. "Don't let...him...take me." There was a raw desperation to her plea and somehow he knew that this woman had rarely, if ever, asked for help. But she was asking now. No. She was begging.
He pivoted to look back down the road. Aside from the brilliant white snow, all he saw were boney grey tree trunks. It wasn't fit for man or polar bear out here. Who the hell was chasing her? Better question, what was she doing in this storm?
The woman didn't answer. She passed out cold, her body limp in the seat again.
Gritting his teeth he surveyed the damage to her car. He'd be surprised if it wasn't totaled.
Much less ran.
What he needed was a cell phone signal.
Hoping she didn't wake up, freak out, and deck him in the balls, he leaned into the car and unzipped her purse. Using her door as cover from the wind, he squatted down and opened the bag. He'd never snooped through a woman's purse before. Had never had any need to, until now. And though he wasn't sure what he'd expected to find, he had at least hoped it would contain a cell phone.
Or a flare gun.
Hell, at this point, with cold snow biting his ass, he'd settle for a homing pigeon.
But what he found inside her bag was baffling. A curling iron that had seen better days, half a bag of Doritos, and a smorgasbord of cosmetics. Mostly lip gloss. In every shade and flavor imaginable. But no cell phone.
Is this how she planned on protecting herself? Distract the guy with a flash of Berry Tasty lipstick and the scent of flavored corn chips, then beat him over the head with the curling iron before choking him with the frayed wire?
He would have laughed if the situation weren't so dire. The car let out an agonizing groan as another blast of air hit them, whipping her hair away from her face.
Maybe he could head back down the mountain for help but in this weather, who knew how long it would take him to return. She'd have frost bite by the time he got back. No, he couldn't leave her.
What the hell are you doing, Deveraux? You're not a knight on a white steed. Just close the door and get on the road. She's not your problem.
But he couldn't stop the protective instincts surging inside him. He was after all, male and a werewolf, both of which made him territorial to the core. Besides, what kind of asshole left a complete stranger, an unconscious woman, alone in a blizzard to fend for herself?
He glanced at her body. She wore a pair of jeans and a thin looking sweater. Letting his eyes trail down her ultra curvy frame he frowned at the sneakers on her feet. Way to prepare for the Great White North, lady.
He flipped open her wallet and glanced at her photo. She was truly angelic when awake and unbloodied. Her name was Kendall Carver from somewhere he'd never heard of in Florida state.
All right, Kendall Carver from Florida, let's get you out of here.
After zipping her purse he carefully scooped her up. Settling her against his chest he turned for his Land Rover and tried to ignore the delicious feel and sweet scent of the beautiful woman unconscious in his arms.
A loud crack sounded overhead. Burke's gaze jerked up to the ice covered trees. Pop.
Muscles tensed, he bolted for his SUV as a massive tree sliced through the forest, raining ice and snow around them. The boom of tree connecting with earth jolted his bones.
There was an instant of groaning metal, then a bright flash of light, then a wave of heat and a loud bang. Sheltering the woman in his arms, he dared a glance over his shoulder. Her car was no more.
Gin barked from the backseat, but Burke needed no urging. He wrenched the rear passenger's door open and told his companion to get in the back. Gin obeyed the order, his big black nose twitching as he tried to catch Kendall's scent. Somehow Burke managed to adjust the seats and settle her without jarring her too badly. At least he hoped so. She didn't rouse.
He shrugged out of his coat and tucked it around her from chin to foot.
Shutting the door, he surveyed the damage. Through the thick snow he saw the massive tree laying where he'd just been standing, now a pile of splintered wood. The debris covered his footprints.
Thank the gods she hadn't been in it.
Another gust of wind battered the mountain, fanning the plume of black smoke into a grey fog.
His keen ears picked up the sound of a motor on the road below. Gin stood in the back and let out a low growl. If Kendall was right about someone following her, they'd have to do it on foot. But he wasn't going to stick around to watch.
Kendall's shoulder burned like it was on fire. Her left temple throbbed and she willed sleep to reclaim her. A gentle rocking motion brought a tremor of nausea to her stomach.
Where was she? Almost afraid to open her eyes, she took a deep breath and winced at the pain in her ribs. She was wrapped up, warm, her cheek nestled against something soft and fuzzy. Whatever it was, it smelled like cologne and man and earth.
Breathing, she quickly found, hurt and she didn't dare move, but she let herself, just for a moment, soak in the feeling of security. It felt so good she almost wept. She needed that glimpse of hope, however misguided, more than her next breath.
But weeping would expend energy she didn't have. And it'd probably hurt like hell too.
She couldn't afford to draw attention to herself. One thing she was absolutely sure of ---
security didn't last.
She chanced opening her eyes. Damn. Startling white filled her vision, making her temple throb all the more. She glimpsed the luxurious interior of a vehicle and the back of a man's head before she squeezed her eyes shut. The aches and pains bombarding her body brought the last few hours rushing back and tears swam behind her eyelids. She bit her lips to keep from crying out.
Panic turned to helplessness. For the first time since she'd run out of her parents house a week ago, she wasn't in control. How was she going to get out of this? How would she survive with her powers bound? How could---
Her breath caught on a sob and searing pain sliced through her. Exhausted and powerless, she didn't even try to fight the darkness as it claimed her.
Burke parked the Land Rover in the cabin's garage. The rustic beauty looked just as it had nine months ago. He surveyed the dim interior before pressing the button that closed the large door behind him. He hadn't heard a peep from his new passenger, which suited him just fine. Once the howling wind and spiraling snow were locked outside two florescent lights flickered on overhead, struggling in the cold. Burke surveyed the shadowy space one more time before reaching for the door handle. Years of looking over his shoulder had taught him to be cautious.
Everyone had enemies, especially werewolves.
Gin rested his head on the rear seat, watching Kendall with steady brown eyes. She slept, oblivious to the turmoil outside. There was something so innocent about her. Burke knew he'd be better off if he didn't pay attention to that innocence. His days of rescuing damsels in distress were over.
Burke let Gin out the rear door before gathering Kendall in his arms as carefully as he could, cradling her against his chest. As he started for the door her head settled against his shoulder and he resisted the overwhelming urge to stare down at her face.
The more he looked at her, the more he'd memorize her features. And he knew from past experience that once his mind had locked in her image, he'd see her everywhere, sleeping or awake. Already he felt a shift within himself, like his life had altered courses and he'd never get back to where he was going.
Her unique womanly scent mixed with that of her blood and wafted into his nostrils.
He would get her inside, get her settled, and try calling for help every fifteen minutes if he had to. And once he was done with his stent as a Good Samaritan, he'd be able to relax.
Climbing the stairs, he wondered with each step how his timing could be so rotten. Was the universe conspiring against him?
He huffed out a sigh at the idiotic thought.
Of course it was. The universe, fate, the devil himself had been conspiring against him for the better part of 250 years. He'd learned to keep his head down, his nose clean, and say no to distractions.
After wrestling the door open at the top of the stairs and juggling the pixie in his arms, a blast of warm air enveloped him. Thank goodness for small favors. His housekeeper had gotten here before the storm to turn the heat on. Who knew how long before the storm killed the power, but he'd certainly enjoy it right now.
Closing the door behind him, he stepped into the living room, sniffing the air. He glanced around, trying to hear over the howling wind outside. A single table lamp lit the space.
Nothing appeared out of place. Except for the woman in his arms.
He couldn't help but glance down then. Her pale skin and threadbare clothes fired his protective nature again. He had no idea what he should do with her but found himself not wanting to let her out of his sight. Which was crazy. The most ridiculous idea he'd had since...in a long time. He should just put her in her own room and call for help and be done with it.Right. That's what he'd do.
Her eyelashes fluttered for a moment and he held his breath, scrutinizing every tiny movement. Then those aqua eyes pegged him again and his breath came whooshing out.
She looked totally out of it. Tired, sleepy, traumatized. But she didn't panic in his arms.
Perhaps she didn't---
"Are you an angel?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
Her question startled a laugh from him. Damn, it felt good to laugh. For a man who prided himself on his easy-going nature, he'd been far too tense these last few months.
"I've been called many things, but never an angel." I was the guy cursing at you as you almost ran me off the road. I'm the idiot who can't stop wondering who you are and what you're running away from. And I'm the man who can't stop looking at your lips, wondering what they'll taste like.
A hint of a smile curved her lips and she laid a hand over his heart. "A fallen angel?" She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I read a book about fallen angels once," she murmured, her voice husky. "They're supposed to be incredibly hand---some." During that pause she opened her eyes and snatched her hand back as if she'd suddenly realized what she was saying.
"Is that right?" he murmured, lost in the moment. "As far as I know, I'm no fallen angel."
"Mmm hmm." Then, as if her brief outburst was all the energy she could spare, she went limp in his arms again, her eyelashes brushing her cheeks.
The lamp flickered. He watched it, willing the bulb to remain on. Burke had roughed it in much worse situations. The question was, had Kendall?
Standing in the middle of the living room he glanced from the rustic log stairs to the master bedroom door. Take her upstairs, he told himself.
Her breath fanned against his neck again. Practicality won out over his need for sanctuary. At least, that's what he was telling himself as he headed for his bedroom. Why heat the whole house when he could heat one room?
As he laid her on the big bed and tucked his jacket around her, he glanced at the ring finger on her left hand and found it bare. Did she not wear a wedding ring or was she not married?
Her marital status doesn't matter, Deveraux.
Gin stood at the patio door and gave an impatient bark. Burke took three steps across the room and let the big dog outside. Gin paused on the covered terrace looking out at the thick blanket of snow. He glanced back at Burke and then darted off, a singular black dot in a blizzard of white.
Burke pulled his cell phone from his pocket and checked the reception. Still nothing.
A moan drew his attention back to the beauty sleeping in his bed. Her eyes fluttered behind closed lids. Everything about her called to him. Cried out for his protection and warmth. Begged him to wrap his arms around her and sooth away her fears.
But he'd fallen for that before. He'd allowed himself to be tempted by a damsel.
He couldn't allow himself to succumb to another woman who would leave him and take his heart with her. Who would look at him like the freak of nature that he was. A man's pride could only take so much. And his had been far too bruised for too many years.
He could tend her. He would tend her. But that's where it'd stop. He wouldn't look at her pretty eyes or cute nose. He'd ignore her long silky hair. He wouldn't notice her eyebrows, the creaminess of her cheeks or her thighs. He would remain impartial, like a doctor tending his patient.
Clenching and unclenching his fists, he stepped to the edge of the bed. He brushed her hair aside and noticed a purple bruise forming below the smear of blood at her hairline. Was that from her accident or God forbid, something... someone else?
He reached for the land line and punched number five. On the fourth ring Doctor Elijah Cooper gave a brisk hello. Burke made it a point to know a healer in every region he traveled to. Elijah was a big black wolf with a hearty laugh and a medical degree from Johns Hopkins among other places.
"Dr. Cooper, Burke Deveraux here. I hate to call so late in the day but I've got a bit of a problem."
A human problem.
After he explained about Kendall's accident he asked for advice. Between the blizzard and the tree there was no way Elijah or anyone else was coming to Kendall's aid.
Which left him.
"Keep her warm. Resting. Inspect her for injuries and clean them the best you can.
Wake her up a couple of times and check for --"
Burke headed to the kitchen for a notepad. So much for his quiet, uneventful vacation.
He scribbled more notes and thanked the doctor, secretly praying that Kendall's injuries were superficial.
When he pressed number one on the speed dial, expecting to hear his brother's voice, the line was dead. So much for touching base.
He strode into the bathroom for a warm washcloth and the first aid kit he'd seen in the linen closet when he'd first moved in six years ago.
With great care he dabbed at the blood on her forehead and checked her hairline for any more serious damage.
As he pulled his jacket away from her, he tried to ignore the way the material molded to the generous swell of her breasts. The sweet scent of her blood swirled around him. He grit his teeth and averted his gaze for a moment, struggling to detach himself from the situation.
Blood soaked the right shoulder and collar of her sweatshirt. He took a steadying breath and reached for the scissors in the kit. Check her for injuries, Cooper had said.
Easier said than done.
His finger and thumb hardly fit through the hole and for a moment he considered letting his claws grow just enough to slice the fabric away. But he couldn't risk her waking up and seeing his mutant hands, half werewolf, half human.
He'd made his 'no humans' rule for a very good reason. He didn't date humans. Didn't kiss humans. Didn't sleep with humans and certainly didn't let himself feel anything for them.
He couldn't afford to.
Managing as best he could, he cut the gray material and then ripped it apart with his hands. The sound brought back memories of the occasional tryst and overwhelming passion that he'd succumbed to in the past.
Not this time. This time the beautiful woman in his bed was a patient. A human patient. And nothing more.
As gently as he could, he checked her for other injuries. Try as he might, he couldn't stop noticing delicate little details about her. The shape of her collar bone, the dewy softness of her skin, the scalloped edge of her pale blue bra. How did doctors remain impartial? She wasn't a bunch of body parts.
She was a lovely flesh and blood woman. Right now the red smear on her shoulder gave him cause for concern. A cut of some sort?
Slowly, he rolled her over to investigate the blood on her shoulder.
Damn.
Burke knew a gunshot wound when he saw one. He'd lost track of how many times he'd been shot, but he knew how much it hurt.
Maybe there'd be something in the kit to help with the pain. He studied the contents: gauze, tweezers, little packets of something, and tape. As he retrieved the supplies he tried to remember how he'd seen doctors in the field treat the wounds. Clean, extract the bullet, bandage. Was it really that simple?
After he let Gin back inside, he washed his hands and then began cleaning Kendall's wound. What had she done to get herself shot? Surely, it had to be related to the man she'd said was after her.
Burke checked her pulse. Finding a steady rhythm, he reached for the tweezers and the lights went out.
"Knew that was gonna happen," he mumbled and reached into the nightstand for a flashlight.
Kendall felt safe and warm for the first time in months. With him to protect her she had nothing to fear. She was certain of it. As certain as she was that there was no way she could let herself be mated to that creep Carl Stienhurst. But she wouldn't think of that now.
Now she wanted to concentrate on the stranger who calmed her soul. Though it was dark and she couldn't read his face, she knew he was looking at her. She could feel his eyes on her, as real as any caress. His quiet movements and gentle touch reassured her. The soft words he whispered made her crave his protection.
"Don't leave me," she begged, pride gone. When had her voice gotten so husky?
"I won't," he replied. He was close. "You're safe." Somewhere behind her a dog barked loud and furiously, startling her from her serenity. "It's okay, he won't hurt you."
Something about his voice soothed her. The steady timber, the utter calm. His promise to stay with her loosened the strangle hold of fear.
"I'll be right back." He moved away, she heard his footsteps on the floor and then the flick of a match. The freezing ground numbed her shoulders, her back.
"So cold," she whispered.
She heard a shuffling sound and then a small pop. A tiny flame flickered to life, dancing as it lapped at the wood. Her savior stood over the fire. He held a long stick in his hands, watching, waiting. Then, as if satisfied with the fire's progress, he glanced at her.
Startled by his masculine beauty, she sucked in a painful breath. Firelight glinted off his dark eyes and shadows played across his arrestingly handsome features highlighting a strong jaw and kissable lips. His hair was golden in the warm light and long, almost brushing his shoulders.
Electricity gathered in the space, filling it with an odd, but not entirely scary sort of tension.
He knelt by the fire and rearranged the logs. She watched his easy movements. Who was this man? So big. So quiet and self assured. Ready and able to battle the elements.
There was another snap-pop and then a steady blaze lit the room. Kendall glanced up at the cavernous ceiling. A stone room with jagged walls surrounded them. A cave...it had to be.
She tried to sit up but a shooting pain sliced through her back. Crying out, she sagged against the hard ground and closed her eyes.
"Don't try to move." His voice came from the darkness and when she opened her eyes he was right there with her, stretched out along side of her, sharing his warmth. She concentrated on breathing in and out, ignoring the pain.
It helped to stare at his lips. They gave her something to focus on. And for one blissful minute, the world fell away.
His head dipped toward hers and she closed her eyes again, silently willing him to kiss her, to take the pain away. To wash away the fear and replace it with happiness and hope. Somehow she knew that this man...he was not like the others. He wasn't like her father. He wasn't like the man she was supposed to be mated to. He was different. Powerful.
Cunning. Caring.
\*
Burke returned to her side a minute later with a collection of candles.
He checked his cell phone signal again before turning it off to conserve the battery.
Hopefully tomorrow he could get word back to his brother that he'd arrived safely. No doubt with the various threats the Deveraux men had received in the past they'd be worried about Burke's silence.
Burke raked a hand down his face. He wasn't a healer like André, but he knew the chances were good she was going to get an infection. As an immortal, he didn't know a damn thing about them.
Aiming the tweezers at the jagged tear in her flesh he held his breath and sent up a silent prayer to whoever was listening. Kendall came awake instantly, her body tightening like a plank of wood. Her cry echoed through the cabin, the raw sounds of agony thundering in his ears.
Burke put his hand in the middle of her blood covered back and pressed down gently.
"You're okay, chéri."
She bucked against him, gargled sounds pouring from her lips. She was stronger than she looked. "Shh..." he soothed. This was not how he'd planned to use his bed on vacation.
"We gotta get this cleaned up."
Though she fell silent, her body shook. One deep breath after another expanded her ribcage beneath his palm. The way her muscles trembled he could tell she was fighting the pain as much as she was fighting him.
"Who are you?" she asked through gritted teeth.
"Name's Burke Deveraux." He used his free hand to dab up a small stream of blood with a square of white cotton. "You got a bullet in yer shoulder, know that?" She huffed a sigh into the pillow, her words muffled. "I'm aware of it, yes. What are you going to do?"
She turned her head so that she was looking in his direction.
"I'm gonna get it out." If possible. Her body tensed. "You need to relax. It'll hurt less." Or so he was told.
"Are you a---ouch! Are you a doctor? Do you know what you're doing?" She sounded close to tears. Or worse, hysterics. Burke wasn't big on either.
"Just hold still."
"Wait!"
Burke bit back an impatient sigh. "What?"
"Shouldn't I...you know, bite down on something? Drink a shot of vodka first?"
"I ain't got no vodka. Bite the pillow." Then he aimed the tips of the tweezers at the hunk of metal lodged beneath her skin.
Her body shook with sobs as he inserted the tweezers.
"Shh. Relax, petit." She did neither.
A few moments later her voice echoed off the polished wooden walls again. "Just...let me...die."
He blew out a sigh. The pain must be excruciating for her to wish for death. But she wasn't like him. She, with her cute nose and delicate features, wasn't immortal. She wasn't immune to disease...and gunshots. Or infection. He angled the tweezers deeper and felt the clank of metal against metal.
"Stop crying, Kendall. Makes my job helluva lot harder." She put on a brave front.
Almost... He gritted his teeth, hating that he was causing her so much distress and yet at the same time, knowing it needed doing.
"Just...leave...it!" Her voice was low, breathy.
He twisted the tweezers.
"Who shot you anyway?" Her body went lax beneath his palm.
She didn't answer. He leaned down to look her in the eye but she'd passed out. Quickly he checked the pulse at her neck and found the same steady rhythm. Touching her, feeling the healthy thump-thump-thump against his skin did crazy things to his mind and body. Things that he wouldn't...couldn't examine now.
He gave the tweezers a tug and a hunk of metal emerged from her shoulder, bloody and disfigured. The bullet looked like it'd hit several things before landing in her shoulder. A lucky shot? She was lucky it hadn't been a few inches higher. Why had she been speeding up a mountain rather than toward a hospital?
He set the tweezers and bullet aside and set about cleaning and bandaging her wound.
He should probably stitch up the gash but he didn't have the supplies for that. Hopefully she'd be all right until he could get her to a doctor. It was gonna leave one helluva scar though.
He pushed away his curiosity about her as he applied the last strip of tape to the bright white gauze. There was nothing more that he could do for her now. He'd wake her in a few hours and offer her pain killer.
As he washed his hands he tried to ignore the smell of blood. It had been a long time since he'd been on a hunt. Since he'd chased a creature down.
His more civilized side had honed over the years, taking him further and further from his native instincts. The need to charge, race across the land and attack. To sink his teeth into a warm body and go for the kill.
It was much easier to stop by a butcher for a big, meaty steak.
Much tastier too.
But that luxury didn't change who and what he was. He stared out the bathroom window at the frozen world beyond. In the distance he could just make out the line of Fur trees shivering in the wind. His cabin was surrounded by two hundred acres of forest. Here it was safe to run and romp as long as his paws would carry him.
Getting away from the city, away from work was a treat these days. On the other hand, his years of dedication brought many extravagances, like electricity during one of the worst blizzards in a century, not to mention the best coffee money could buy.
After checking on the woman in his bed he headed for the shed outside. That generator purchase would come in handy, at least until the gasoline ran out. But at four hours a day, he figured he could run the refrigerator and coffee maker for a few weeks if he needed to.
Once he'd programmed the generator to turn on at breakfast, lunch, dinner and just before bed, he headed inside. A steaming mug of El Injerto sounded damn good right about now.
Florida, midnight
Carl Steinhurst marched past the ornate clock on the mantle as it struck nine.
Impatient, he took his place behind the massive wooden desk, steepling his fingers as he waited for his daily update on the Kendall situation. As soon as this call was complete he could get back to the two beautiful whores adorning the large silk sofa on the opposite wall of his office.
His hand hovered over the receiver as he waited. And waited. His gaze flicked to the clock again. One minute past.
He sucked in an annoyed breath as he glared back at the phone. The instant it rang, he snatched it up.
Luckily, he'd trained the small talk out of his help. He had no time or need for such things. Down to business. Always business.
"She got away again," the voice said without preamble.
Carl's grip tightened on the cordless phone as his fangs lengthened. "She what?"
"She got away from us boss. She's smarter than she looks---" He leaned forward, elbows digging into the polished wood. "That's my betrothed you're talking about weasel. Watch your mouth." One of these days he was going to have to see about getting better help. Someone smarter and more capable. These goons worked for peanuts and until he could stake his claim on the Carver lands he couldn't afford anyone better.
"Use her cell phone to track her."
"It's off, boss."
Sometimes he really did think he was talking to children. "As soon as she turns it back on, triangulate her position," he said, annunciating every word.
He ran his tongue over his fangs as he watched the women on his sofa fondle and caress each other. The lingerie he'd picked out did wonders for their figures. Rhinestones sparkled in the moonlight, like beacons in the darkened room.
"Right. Um. And there's more."
"More? How could there be more?" Fury boiled inside him. How inept could those man-sized-rodents be? He should have hired a bounty hunter with questionable morals to bring her back to him, but no, he'd taken their word for it. "We can find her," they'd said.
Sniveling little animals.
Not only was Kendall making him look like a fool, now his men were too. He closed his eyes and fought for control. It wouldn't do to lose his temper at this point in the game.
"Drek managed to get off a shot."
Carl waited, his brows pinched downward, an uneasy feeling coming over him. He'd told them to take her alive. She was no good to him if she was dead. God help him, he would kill them all. Worthless, scum-sucking maggots.
"And?" he barked a moment later when no further details were uttered across the line.
"He was aiming for the back tire. You knows, to disable the car." Carl hissed. How the hell had everything gone so wrong? That stupid old fool Carver hadn't wanted to put his precious property on the table. No. He'd offered his daughter instead.
Carl should have seen the writing on the wall. But she was a means to an end. She'd inherit dear-old-dad's property, and since she'd be married to him, he'd get what he wanted anyway.
Carver had no idea he'd signed his own death sentence.
The plan had been so simple. So fool proof. Until that little bitch had run off, tail tucked between her legs. She should have known he had no intention other than wedding her.
Certainly not bedding her.
He had a whole harem of sluts waiting to service him. Plus, he made it a point never to fuck animals. Especially bottom feeders like werecoyotes.
Across the room, the blonde's fingers disappeared beneath her panties. Undeterred by his mood, she shot him a lusty look. A come-hither smile if he'd ever seen one. His cock jerked, impatient to sink between those ruby red lips.
What was the weasel babbling about? Then, a single word pierced Carl's lust. Blood.
"What did you say?"
"Which part, boss?"
"Everything after 'he was aiming for the back tire,'" Carl ground out.
The phone-line was silent for a long moment. Long enough for that sinking feeling to completely deflate his hard-on.
"We think she got hit," the weasel said, but continued quickly, "but she kept driving, so it can't be that bad right?"
Carl was out of his chair like a lightning bolt, his temper finally getting the better of him. He clenched a fist, aching to slam it into something fleshy and supple. Preferably the weasel on the other end of the phone line.
"Find her," he roared before he hurled the phone against the wall and started for the door. The women cowered as he stormed across the room.
"You can go," he clipped out, pausing only long enough to see them nodding quickly, their heads bouncing up and down like bobble-head dolls. The fear in their eyes fed him and for the briefest of moments, he was tempted to feed on more. To drain them dry.
But he had something far more important to take care of.
He bellowed for his assistant. Did he have to do everything himself?
White Mountains, morning
Something soft nuzzled Kendall's hand. She blinked against the harsh morning light and tilted her head to the left. A large black dog lay curled at her side. She smiled, feeling safe and warm. Just like in her dreams.
Dernit. Why was her dream life always so much better than her real life? Why did she always end up with a great guy only to wake up, on the run?
"Good morning," she whispered as she ran her fingers over his muzzle. He licked them and she laughed softly. For a moment she lay there, admiring her surroundings.
Feeling like Cinderella waking up in a castle she tried to remember everything that had happened since yesterday afternoon. She'd been shot. She remembered that well enough.
Crashed.
Rescued.
In and out of consciousness.
Though she had the gist of it, her memories were hazy. How long had she been sleeping? Where was her host? Where was her purse?
Her rapid fire thoughts brought on a headache and she reached up with both hands to rub her temples. Her shoulder protested the motion and she winced. How was she going to get out of this mess? Would they ever stop chasing her? Would she ever get her powers back?
She pushed the thoughts away, thankful that even without her powers her body seemed to be healing quick enough. But that didn't stop the aches ringing through her body.
Despite her shelter and new found sense of security she needed to keep moving. Get back on the road. Put more distance between her and them, wherever the heck they were.
They'd be closing in fast, as they always did. No matter how fast she drove, no matter how far.
Anxiety crept through her slowly, like an all-consuming fog that threatened to strangle her.
No. She wasn't going to let them win. Pushing herself up, she gritted her teeth and mentally recited the words from her favorite wall poster. Keep calm and carry on.
Keep calm and carry on.
Keep calm and --- ohmygod she was naked. In a stranger's bed.
Had she---had they? She didn't remember getting naked.
She tugged the sheet around herself. Think. Think. No, she definitely didn't remember a night of hot sex. And something about the handsome man who'd towered over her, his sheer masculinity perhaps, told her she wasn't likely to forget an evening in his arms no matter how comatose she was.
And she certainly wasn't the type to sleep with a man whose name she didn't even know. But...she did know his name. He'd told her sometime during those in-and-out moments. No, he'd told her as he'd been extracting a bullet from her shoulder.
Burke something. Burke... think, think, think.
The man had saved her life; the least she could do was remember his name.
Kendall closed her eyes and reined back another wave of panic. That'd been too close. A lucky shot, perhaps, but too close. All the more reason to keep moving and not involve nice strangers in the drama that was her life.
One step at a time. First, she needed to get dressed. Then go check on her car. Maybe Burke would help her get it out of the dune so she didn't have to involve anyone else in town.
But she was already deep in his debt. A fruit basket wasn't going to cut it. Not that she could even afford a fruit basket at this point.
Blinking against the glare, she glanced around the room for her clothes. And her host.
Her gaze fell on a large white button-up laying over the end of the bed. It'd have to do for now.
She reached forward, gritting her teeth as her bones protested.
Everything would all be so much easier if she could just shift. Her shoulder would heal, her head wouldn't ache, and in general, she wouldn't feel like a squashed bug on a windshield.
Putting the shirt on was somewhat harder than she'd expected thanks to her injured shoulder. She didn't know how far she could push it. This was, after all, her first gunshot wound.
She'd just managed to slip the left sleeve on and tug it up over the bandage when she heard the masculine voice from her dreams. "Need some help?" The giant of a man who'd rescued her from the snow dune and certain frostbite stood in the doorway holding two steaming mugs. Coffee she prayed. With extra sugar. A girl could hope. Without waiting for her answer, he strode across the room, his long legs eating up the distance and set the mugs on the bedside table. She noticed her old cell phone laying there. He must have found it in her jeans pocket. "I should check your bandage before you button up," he murmured. She almost melted beneath his dreamy accent.
Swallowing, she nodded her agreement. He leaned behind her on one knee. Warm hands smoothed the tape of her bandage and she greedily soaked in his touch.
Bad idea, Kendall. Get your mind out of the gutter and back to the problem at hand.
Not the fact that you haven't had an orgasm in, oh, three years. Carl's goons are out to bring you home at any cost (or kill you.) Concentrate on that.
"Looks good. Not too much bleedin'. How ya' feelin'? Any headaches?" She shook her head and expelled a quick sigh. "Like death warmed over."
"I expect so. Do you remember what happened?"
She held the sheet tightly around herself as he helped her get her other arm in the sleeve.
She started buttoning the buttons as he pulled back. "Which part?" she asked ruefully.
Her life had certainly been full of adventure lately.
He took a long sip from his mug as he settled himself in the leather chair beside the bed.
She noticed he didn't offer to help her button up the shirt. It was probably better that way. He'd probably already gotten an eyeful of her less than perfect figure and the farther away he was the easier it was for her to stop wondering if she'd been wearing her good underwear.
"You begged me not to let him take you. Who's him?" he asked.
"Carl Steinhurst." She ran her fingers through her hair. "And his posse." The dog at her side stirred in his sleep, wagged his tail a few times and then settled again in a peaceful slumber. Oh to be like that again. Carefree. Taken care of.
But had she ever really been taken care of?
"Carl is..." he left the question dangling in the air between them.
"According to my father, Carl is my fiancé."
She could tell by the way Burke's eyebrows inched upward that her admission surprised him. Did he not think she would have a fiancé? Wasn't pretty enough or old enough?
"And you would run away from this man you're supposed to marry?" There was a wealth of icy pain in his question. Almost as if he himself had suffered a runaway bride.
"You don't think a woman has the right to change her mind?" she countered, surprised at how hurt her heart felt. She barely knew this man. His opinion of her shouldn't matter at all.
But for some reason it did. And she didn't like the idea that he thought poorly of her, no matter the reason.
Which was just stupid.
"I think if you accept a marriage proposal then you should be sure you want to marry the person. In fact, you should be willing to marry them immediately."
"So yours was a long engagement then?" She couldn't help prodding him. It didn't feel good to have her wounds opened and inspected, much less by a man who obviously thought so little of her at this point.
His gaze jerked from the fire to her and she could swear that a blaze burned there, barely banked. Her query obviously upset him. His jaw worked back and forth as he regarded her.
"We're not discussing me."
And just like that he erected an impenetrable wall between them. That shouldn't have hurt either. She couldn't bear to sit in his bed, having him look at her like that. He didn't know the whole story.
"I need to use the restroom...then I'll get out of your hair." He huffed out a sigh, gazing back at the fire. She could see the emotions humming through him, memories alive in his eyes.
"Blizzard hasn't let up yet. Doubt you'd make it ten feet." The rough appraisal set her teeth on edge. She'd made it from Florida to New Hampshire, almost fifteen hundred miles. By herself. Without a man, fiancé or otherwise.
"Bathroom's through there." He nodded toward the door to her left.
Kendall stayed in the safety of the bathroom for longer than necessary, despite the cool tile floor. Why did it bug her so much that a total stranger thought she was running away from her commitments? If she was honest with herself, she wasn't just annoyed, she was deeply hurt too.
He'd based his character appraisal off of one sentence. One freaking sentence.
What was she going to do now? She was trapped. And though the beautiful house was better than her car or a hotel or God forbid, Carl's mansion, she didn't know how she was going to stay cooped up with a man who thought so little of her.
Whoever the woman was that had injured him so badly, she'd done a bang-up job of it.
He wasn't wearing a ring. Had they married?
She opened the door to the bedroom and found him staring at the fire, his massive chest rising and falling in a steady pattern. Licking her lips she found herself telling him "for what it's worth, Carl's men want to take me back. To them I'm property to be returned to my owner."
"Your owner?" His keen gaze flicked to her.
She twirled a strand of hot pink hair around her forefinger and nodded. "I barely know the guy. He gives me the creeps."
"Then why would you consent to marry him?" He sounded shocked and she could tell by the way he'd turned toward her that she had his full attention.
"I didn't."
He frowned.
"My father ordered me to do it." Tired, she settled back in the bed, trying not to jar her injuries. "My dad is a gambler. It's amazing he has anything left, but he was pretty good at it when he was younger. Lately, let's just say he drinks more than he wins.
"I'm sure Carl knew it. Neither of them know that I know what happened at that game." She shrugged. "Dad wouldn't put his property on the table." Burke leaned forward, shaking his head as if he were trying to settle the pieces of a puzzle into place, trying desperately to understand her.
"He put you on the table."
"Marriage to Nelson Carver's daughter. I'm the oldest."
"So you'll inherit what's left of your father's wealth." She nodded.
"And if you marry Carl..."
No, she didn't want to think it much less speak it. She licked her lips and glanced around the room.
"Got it in one."
"So you ran away..."
"Fat lot of good it did me. Carl's goons are pretty good at tracking people. And I'm not exactly an expert at evasion."
"Do you remember your accident?"
She closed her eyes briefly. "I remember my head hurting like hell. And I remember..." She stared straight at him. "I remember you. A dog barking." She wouldn't tell him that she'd felt safe for the first time ever. Warm for the first time in months. That there was something about him, something she'd recognized through the dreams, the fog of unconsciousness. She trusted him.
No, she couldn't tell him all that. He'd think she was a loon. And maybe she was. Why else would she stay with a family that put their debts above her welfare?
Why else would Burke's assessment of her sting so much?
She straightened her spine a little. It might have taken her a while to grow a backbone but she was never going to be someone's trophy wife and she certainly wasn't going to be a wallflower. Yes, she'd colored her hair pink and purple to try get out of a stupid ancient mating ritual. So what if it seemed a little...
Desperate.
She'd run. From the loony Dirk Brothers and the even crazier Carl.
"I think you had every right to be desperate." The tenderness in his voice was new.
Okay, spooky. "You think I'm desperate?"
His eyebrows inched upward. "You just said you were." Her eyes widened. Trust her, Kendall "Babble-Mouth" Carver to speak out loud when she thought she was merely thinking.
She sighed. Unfortunately, she was used to embarrassing herself by now. Just not in front of handsome, hunky men who made everything feminine inside of her sit up and take notice.
"I think I'm more desperate than ever," she whispered, twirling her hair again.
"Imagine a group of small beady eyed guys with fake Jersey accents, half animal, half human.
That's the Dirk brothers. Carl thinks he's God's gift. Tall, dark. Not that handsome though." She frowned. Nowhere near as handsome as Burke. "And he's got very specific ideals on a woman's role in life."
"Half animal you say," he said, standing. He probably thought she was crazy. She had to remember he was human, not were. But he certainly could be, as large and strong and drop-dead-handsome as he was.
He wouldn't be a vampire. No. A werelion perhaps, though they were usually blond from what she understood. She'd never met one.
Maybe a werewolf. Yes. Tall, dark, dangerously-handsome. That description suited him to a tee.
In the light of day, his eyes were dark and filled with dangerous secrets. She cocked her head to the right, watching him as he hoisted a large log onto the fire. Definitely dangerous.
And yet, she felt so at ease with him...when he wasn't castigating her.
"How tall are you?" she asked, figuring he was at least a head taller than Carl.
Again with the eyebrow, but he stared down at his feet. She followed his gaze, and gulped. Big feet...
"Six foot seven."
Wow.
She wasn't exactly short herself. Five foot nine was huge for werecoyots though. And her size had always made her stand out like the elephant in the room. Most days she felt like a giraffe. And her father, he was the first in line to poke fun. She was the family joke.
"Why do you ask?"
"Most of the people I know are short. Shorter than me." He nodded in silent understanding. He probably did know what it felt like to be the tallest person in any room. And the strongest, if those biceps beneath that sweater were any indication.
Kneeling before the fire with a wrought iron poker in his hand, he was the epitome of masculine grace. The scene was straight out of an L.L. Bean catalog, totally idyllic.
He glanced back at her over his shoulder and her breath stalled in her lungs. Perhaps he was a male model. That would suit him perfectly.
"I'm sorry about earlier."
She wasn't sure how to respond to that.
"I know better than to make snap judgments." He glanced back at the pile of logs stacked next to the fireplace. "I know better than to judge people at all."
"It's okay. We all have our hot button issues."
He nodded. "But I should have asked more questions before jumping to conclusions."
"Well, now you know the truth." Some of it anyway.
He nodded again and pushed to his feet. After putting the poker away he wiped his palms down his thighs. Such powerful thighs...
She really shouldn't be thinking about that. She should be planning her next move, an escape route. But the big man staring back at her was solid and strong like an anchor in a storm. He admitted when he was wrong. Apologized. She searched her memory. Her father and brothers never admitted when they were wrong.
Admitting they were wrong or misinformed was a weakness in their eyes. To a certain extent, her mother had believed the same thing.
And what sort of man stuck up for a guy he'd never met? Was outraged that she'd turn her back on her fiancé? She dropped her gaze to her hands, twisting the sheet. He really was larger than life, and for a brief moment she wanted to soak up the calm.
She shouldn't though. "I guess I should drink my coffee before it gets cold," she murmured and reached for her mug.
He returned to his chair. "You change the subject a lot," he said and took another sip of coffee, his gaze meeting hers over the rim of his mug.
Her cheeks heated. Switching lanes mid-conversation, as her mother had called it, was a bad habit she'd picked up a long time ago. But she couldn't help that her thoughts bounced from one topic to another. It had driven her mother crazy.
"I've been told that before."
"S'ok," he said, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. He kept his hands wrapped around the coffee cup. "I can keep up."
She smiled. How was it that he managed to make her feel like less of a freak? He seemed so...normal. So laid back. It was easy for her to feel the same. She smiled and then took a sip.
Plenty of sugar. Was he psychic?
"I have some bad news about your car."
So much for staying calm. The pounding behind her eyes came back with an extra beat on the bass drum.
"Is it..." she could hardly form the words.
That car was all she had. The only thing in this world that she owned free and clear.
Four fairly worn tires, two dinged up doors, and one fuzzy steering wheel, it was her chance for escape. A new life. A life without Carl and all the crazy coyotes of North Bend. She gulped.
"Is it totaled?"
He gave a slow nod, his gaze never leaving hers.
She knew by the compassion in his dark eyes that he heard the fear in her voice. And somehow, she knew he didn't think less of her for it. But she tilted her chin up just the same.
She had to be brave. Weakness was not an option.
"Actually, it's," he glanced around the room as if he'd find the right words painted on the walls, "well, it's halfway down the mountain by now. Probably hanging from a tree like a Christmas ornament."
"Ornament?" The word chirped from her lips and her eyes bulged out a bit. She put her coffee cup back on the nightstand, afraid she'd spill it because she was shaking so much.
His lips narrowed into a thin line and his gaze returned to hers. "A tree hit it, knocking it over the edge of the mountain. Then it---ugh---exploded." She saw his lips moving. Even heard sounds come out. But the words didn't register. All she could focus on was the sensuous line of those perfect lips, his strong jaw, wide solid chest.
She could rest there, curled up next to him, safe from the world.
And then, like a pin popping a bubble, a single word entered her lust filled brain.
"Exploded?" She leapt from the bed and whirled to face him, but the action was too much and she sank to her knees on the thick creamy carpet.
He was at her side in an instant, whispering soft words in her ear as his strong arms lifted her back to the bed. But instead of putting her down, he settled her in his lap. Her heart skipped a beat.
So strong.
But... Oh, gosh, her car.
Maybe if she could just soak up his warmth, maybe it was all just a dream. But as she lifted her head and saw the concern replacing the compassion in his eyes, she knew that it wasn't.And once again, panic clawed at her.
"I'm sorry," he said.
"Are you sure? Exploded? Really?"
"Lady, I felt the blast myself. Big boom. Lots of heat. It wasn't an orgasm." She blushed.
"Sorry. That was crass."
"Yeah..." She smiled at him. "But it was actually rather funny." Their eyes met and held for a long, tension filled moment. Oh god, let him kiss me and make the world disappear.
A second ticked by. Two. Three. He didn't close the distance, small as it was, between them. But the way he looked at her face, gaze lingering on her lips, maybe he wanted to.
Kendall, you're crazy. What's the chance he's a wealthy bachelor ? And even if he was single, you're not a human. It can never be. Never last.
Why are you still sitting in his lap?
She sucked in a shuddering breath, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts. Fear and frustration joined the mix. How was she supposed to outrun Carl's reach with no car? No way out? "I can't believe it," she said, her voice barely a whisper. She didn't want to believe it.
The thought that she might actually have to go back to Florida, to her father. To Carl. If was enough to make her stomach roll.
"When the storm clears up we can go look for it, but I'm afraid it's extra crispy Car-B-Q."
She appreciated his attempt at humor but that confirmation reduced her dreams to ashes, just like her car. Her lust bubble was seriously popped. Never before had she felt so close to coming unraveled. Part of her wanted to just throw up her hands and admit defeat.
But she had to be strong. "It wasn't much, but it was mine. Ya know?"
"I know."
She stared at the center of his chest, afraid to think, to feel anything at all lest she break down completely in front of this man. This stranger.
But he wasn't really a stranger anymore, was he? And after last night he'd, no doubt, come to know her rather intimately. For some reason, that didn't bother her as much as she thought it would have a week ago. So much had changed in seven days.
No, they weren't exactly strangers anymore. She may not know where he came from or what his favorite color was... But she knew his face. His hands. His lips. His tenderness and deep voice.
She knew he was kind. Strong. A protector. He admitted when he was wrong and he had a sense of humor.
And he'd most likely saved her life.
Louisiana, mid morning
Amanda Deveraux pulled the covers toward her chin and watched Sebastian stalk back and forth at the foot of the bed. Thanks to her pregnancy she alternated between scorching hot and freezing cold. Though Thanksgiving was only a week away, the Louisiana heat lingered and yet somehow, she was chilled.
"Why does he not answer his cell phone?" A frown marred her husband's handsome face. She loved him for it. For the way he worried over and protected his family.
"Come back to bed," she said, holding out a hand to him. He was entirely too worried about Burke. Make that, Burke's frame of mind. He'd headed to the hills, as Sebastian told it, but Amanda knew his cousin just wanted some time to himself. Which Amanda could totally understand. She sympathized with the big wolf, even though she worried about him too. He was like the silent rock that held things up, the persistent calm that had helped smooth the waters with Deveraux Shipping and in general, his laid back nature and sense of humor kept things pleasant in a world filled with Alpha males and too much testosterone.
Sebastian huffed out a sigh, tossed the phone onto the bed and then crawled in beside her. A heavy arm settled around her ever growing belly and his warm palm cupped her breast.
"How's da bébé?"
She snuggled back against him, basking in his attention. "Same as when you asked five minutes ago." She couldn't blame him for being excited. Just as she'd expected, he was turning out to be a great father. Protective and nurturing. Time had changed him. Time had changed all the Deveraux men. She only hoped it would heal whatever was eating at Burke so he would be home in time for the mammoth Thanksgiving turkey she'd squeezed into the freezer yesterday.
As if sensing Kendall needed something else to focus on besides her car, Burke changed the subject. "You hungry?"
"Always."
The corner of his mouth hitched up in amusement as he stood, letting her slide down until she was standing. "Come on. I'm sure there's some grub around here somewhere." He led the way to the kitchen.
"The power went out last night," he said as he pulled out a bar stool for her.
Ahh. That explained the candles on the nightstand. She gingerly settled herself on the tall wooden chair and blew warm air over her hands.
"What do you like to eat for breakfast?" he asked.
Kendall hugged her arms around herself and watched Burke pillage the industrial sized KitchenAid. He quickly amassed a pile of Styrofoam containers and items from the deli counter. No doubt about it. The man was a serious meatosaurous.
"Fruit. Oatmeal," she said, thinking back to all the cookies and power bars she'd downed over the last week. Not a healthy diet. In a perfect world she'd enjoy a caramel latte with a bowl of oatmeal and a side of fresh fruit every single morning.
But this wasn't a perfect world. They didn't have any power, her toes were cold, she'd been shot, nearly drove off a mountain, and her beloved little car was no more. No, this certainly wasn't a perfect world.
"You struck me as a carnivore," he murmured and circled the island to retrieve a thick blanket from the back of a nearby couch. He wrapped it around her shoulders and then headed to a small room at the end of the kitchen, flashlight in hand.
Touched by the gesture, she thanked him and adjusted the blanket so it covered her feet.
"I used to be," she said when he came back into the kitchen holding a pouch of what looked like oatmeal. But the packaging was far fancier than her usual Quaker.
He paused, eyeing her. "Please don't tell me you're a vegan."
"Vegetarian."
He muttered something about same difference and grabbed a pot from the rack overhead. "Sure you don't want any bacon? Sausage? There's a whole ham in there." Her jaw dropped open. Then he smiled. And what smile it was. "Just checking." She realized that until that moment she hadn't seen him smile. She was sure of it, because seeing his lips tug upward, showing off perfectly straight, incredibly white teeth took her breath away. And it made her want to see his smile every day for the rest of her life.
But as quickly as it came, his smile vanished behind the mask of indifference he wore so well. She mourned the loss.
He flipped over the package of oatmeal and stared for a few long seconds. Kendall was tempted to lay her head down on the sleek granite counter and close her eyes but noticed Burke frowning at the direction label. He didn't strike her as the type who didn't like to get his hands dirty, so it must have been lack of direction. Working part time in her father's store, she'd seen her share of labels in the past that made her wonder what the company was thinking. Unidentifiable ingredients. Illegible text. Little-to-no instructions on preparation.
She pushed herself to her feet and stepped around the island to stand next to him. She also figured he wouldn't appreciate her taking over the job.
"I usually just start with a cup of water and a cup of oats." She pulled the blanket tighter, ignored the cold floor, and looked around for a measuring cup. "Oh, and you need brown sugar."
"Brown sugar?" He relinquished his grip on the pot handle.
"Hmm huh. Water?" She aimed the flashlight at a drawer and found every measuring device imaginable, including a scale. "Wow. Fancy." He found a bottle of water and handed it to her. She measured her ingredients, poured them in the pot and then frowned.
"Umm...heat?"
"Told you ham would have been easier," he quipped and turned away from her and began opening drawers. A gas stove and no electricity to cause a spark... Except for that crackle in the air between them.
"You don't even have to cut an apple to eat it," she said, unable to help herself from getting the last word.
She caught his grin as he searched the drawers one-by-one. At the last drawer he made a sound of success. She reached for the dial on the stove while he struck a match. Just as the tiny flame flared, illuminating his handsome face, a motor rumbled to life in the distance.
They'd found her. Her hand dropped from the knob and she glanced around frantically for a weapon.
Burke blew out the match. How could he be so calm? He had no idea who or what he was up against, that's how. "It's just the generator." With that, he turned the knob and the burner beneath the pot flickered to a steady blue life. "It's on a timer." His voice was so steady, free of amusement or condemnation. "Oh." The single word was all she could manage. Her heart was beating so fast she braced her hands against the counter to keep from falling. He reached out, closing a large hand around the back of her neck and gave her a reassuring squeeze. His warmth soaked into her and she reveled in his touch.
The adrenaline rush waned as she watched him stir the oats, so calm, so relaxed. She couldn't bring herself to move away from him. If only she could feel a little of that calm herself.
"You're safe here, chéri," he murmured.
She glanced at his handsome profile illuminated by the large picture window. Past him, snow swirled outside. Cold. Beautiful. Barren. She'd never experienced snow like this. So thick and picturesque.
He was so sure of himself. Of his world. What was it like to live like that? She'd never been that sure of herself. Of anything actually. Usually, she tried to project confidence while second-guessing herself every step of the way.
"I'm not safe anywhere," she replied quietly.
"Well, no one's coming up the road thanks to that tree. And da storm is too thick.
They'd have to be crazy to try to come after ya."
Feeling weak, Kendall reclaimed her bar stool. "They're definitely crazy." She wondered what Carl would do when he found out that his goons had shot her. She almost smiled as she imagined him ripping them to bits.
Burke stared at her for a long moment, obviously chewing his words. "You mentioned something about brown sugar..."
"What? Oh. Yeah. I sprinkle it on top," she said, making a sprinkling gesture with her hand. "I know I shouldn't, it'll go straight to my hips and like I need any more baggage there.
My cousin Clarrissa sprinkles blue berries on top of hers. Sometimes strawberries, depending on what's in season." She was babbling. Again.
Burke smiled, intrigued by her rambling. "If you want brown sugar, petit, then you shall have it." And in his opinion, she didn't need to worry about a few extra calories. She looked perfect to him. Lush. Curvy. The kind of woman a man could hold on to.
She watched him for a minute, her head tilted to the side then she joined him at the stove and held her hands above the pot. A shiver wracked the body he'd just been oogling and he felt like an imbecile.
Settling her onto his lap earlier had been a mistake. Feeling her luscious curves fit like a puzzle piece against him had dredged up thoughts and desires that were better left buried.
And he'd almost kissed her.
What the hell had he been thinking? He hadn't been thinking.
Stick to the rule Deveraux. No kissing. No humans.
"There's nothin' petit about me, except for the diamond in my nose ring. And between you and me," she glanced around the room as if to check for anyone eavesdropping. "It's not a real diamond."
"You have a nose ring?"
"It's in my purse."
"What about the hair?"
"Oh, it's real."
"I mean, why did you color it?"
"To piss Carl off." She twirled a strand around her finger in the way he was coming to realize meant she was lost in thought. "It didn't matter though. He said it could be dyed back before--"
He stopped stirring. "Before what?"
Her hand dropped to her side and she glanced away. "Never mind." Her voice was quiet and tortured. He was liking this Carl fella less by the second. What sort of man instilled fear in the woman who would be his wife?
A little voice whispered in his ear, "monsters like you." For several long, agonizing moments the kitchen was silent. They stared at each other and Kendall opened her mouth a few times to speak but couldn't find the right words.
But there was something about the tall, superbly built Burke Deveraux that made her want to find the words, want to open up to him. Something in his eyes spoke to her, instilled trust and confidence. While Carl gave her the creeps, Burke made her want to curl up next to him and tell him all her secrets.
Which was why it was probably a good reason to keep her mouth firmly closed.
"You said something about a mating ritual," he prompted and went back to stirring the oatmeal.
Had she? Probably her run away tongue again. Dang she hoped it didn't burn. She was starving.
"It's just a silly little thing. How's the oatmeal?" He seemed curious, like he wanted to ask more questions, but instead turned back to the stove. "I don't know. You tell me."
Which meant getting closer to him...
"Looking good." And she wasn't talking about the gooey mash in the pot.
But he didn't need to know that.
With a bowl of oatmeal and the wide island between them, Kendall relaxed enough to eat. Burke fried up all manner of meats and then wolfed down each greasy morsel. Though she didn't find it appetizing in the least, she could appreciate his ap petit. Truth be told, the oatmeal would only last her an hour. Even with plenty of brown sugar on top.
As Burke went back to the fridge for another glass of milk she went in search of an apple. Or two. Okay, three.
The refrigerator drawer full of apples was like heaven after all the junk food she had endured the last week. In the back of her mind she could hear her father ranting about what a picky eater she was and Kendall supposed that for a werecoyote, she was a picky eater. But she couldn't help it that she had discerning tastes.
She settled herself on her stool and took a big bite of the shiny red fruit.
"How old are you?"
"Old enough." He paused, mid-bite, obviously waiting for her to elaborate. "I'm twenty-one." In three months. Not that she would tell him that. Everyone seemed to think that twenty-one was the golden age. Looking at an eternally long life, twenty-one felt microscopic.
"Then you're old enough to run away. When I first ran away I was fifteen."
"Really?" She took another bite of the apple, tasted the sweetness on her tongue and decided the flavor was too real for this to all be a dream.
Maybe a daydream. No one ever agreed with her.
She was either wearing too much lipstick, again, or why couldn't she be more agreeable and just eat meat like everyone else?
"Sometimes you need time away. To spread your wings. Sometimes family does not know best." He spoke as if he had experience. Then he glanced down at her empty bowl. "Can I make you more oatmeal?"
His words washed away all the tension, fear, and frustration that had battered her for the last few months. So, there was a gentleman left on this planet. And on the upside, he was big, hunky and drool-worthy. She smiled. "How can I refuse an offer like that?" Chapter Five
Burke wasn't sure what to make of Kendall. She gobbled down the second bowl of oatmeal as quickly as the first. It was almost as if she hadn't eaten in a week...or had the appetite of a werewolf. Which wasn't possible because he would have scented that long before now. And he'd never met a shewolf who hadn't flung herself at his feet like a bitch in heat.
Except for Juliette.
She was a rare breed. Cultured. Poised. And very much mated.
But nevertheless, there was something not quite human about Kendall. Something untamed and raw while at the same time young, innocent and refreshing. A walking, talking contradiction if he'd ever met one.
Her spoon dropped into the bowl with a clang and she rubbed a hand over her stomach. The annoying little voice in the back of his mind that couldn't leave well enough alone whispered that she was a woman after his own heart. But he mentally sneered. What did he know about her?
Aside from the fact that she had a sense of humor, a penchant for lip gloss, and didn't want to be tied down. That in itself should have made him breathe easier, but as the generator cut out and the electronics around them went silent, he found himself studying her startled expression and once again feeling that urge to protect her.
But hadn't he come here because he wanted time away from responsibility? He should have been out skiing the slopes instead of watching the snow pile higher outside the window.
"Good?"
"Really good. With those bozos on my tail I haven't had time for a decent meal in, like, a week." She leaned against the polished stone counter, a smile of bliss curving her lips.
Tail?
"So what will you do now?"
The second the question was out of his mouth he wanted to bite it back. Kendall went from smiling serenely to stiff backed and nervous in the blink of an eye.
He was such a jerk. There was no need for her to worry about anything right now.
Oh, wasn't there? According to Kendall, there was a band of angry goons after her, a man who wanted her for his bride, and thanks to a well aimed tree, she had no car to help her escape."I---I don't know--"
It wasn't his responsibility to look after her. It wasn't as if she were his kid sister.
Kid sister, the voice taunted. No chance in hell of that. You do not feel a sisterly attraction to her at all.
I don't feel any attraction to her.
Yeah, tell it to someone who believes you.
How pathetic was this? Now he was talking to himself. Mentally. He was mental.
"No need to worry about that now. And I don't think those bums will find their way up the mountain any time soon even if they did know where to look." She seemed to relax a fraction. "We should probably head back to the bedroom and keep the fire going." Kendall paused mid step. He quickly retraced his words and grimaced. "I mean...without power-- you cold?"
She nodded. "A little."
Damn, she'd probably thought he was coming on to her. He honestly wished he could say he wasn't. But his subconscious probably was. Or his wolf, rather.
She followed him from the kitchen. "You must think I'm the stupidest woman alive," she said a few moments later. He looked up from where he was putting another log on the fire and met her gaze. She sank onto the bed, the fluffy red blanket wrapped around her like a coat, and stared out the window.
If she'd been Annabelle she would have been fishing for a compliment, or comfort. But as he watched Kendall, he could see the only thing she was searching for was a way out of here, and a way out of the predicament she was in. She seemed to be mentally tabulating something and then she glanced over at the chair where her purse sat.
He followed her gaze. It was all she had left he supposed. Everything was starting to make sense to him: her lack of warm clothes, her rampage up the mountain, her breathless plea when they'd first met... She must've felt she was out of options and decided to make a run for it with the clothes on her back and whatever had been in her purse at the time.
Brave, that.
Perhaps a little foolish, but sometimes you had to do what you had to do.
"You know, there are places you could go where he'd never find you." Why the hell had he said that? Why was he getting in the middle of it? It was none of his business.
She gave a bitter laugh. He didn't like the sound of it. She should be smiling, laughing happily, sharing herself with someone, not running scared. Not that any of it should matter to him.
It didn't. Not one little bit.
When'd you become a liar, Deveraux? The little voice asked.
"Oh yeah? Where's that?"
He shrugged. "A big city. Blend in with the masses. New Orleans is as good a place as any." "Ever been there?"
He gave a quick, jerky nod. He'd practically lived there for the last...no, he didn't want to count how many years. That would inevitably lead to counting the years since Annabelle's betrayal and fuck, if that wasn't a bitter pill to swallow.
Vacation, he had to remember he was on vacation.
When aren't you on vacation? Okay...that was enough. He had to turn that voice off.
Annoying little son-of-a...
"I haven't. Never been outside of Florida. At least not until this past month. Momma always said there was a great big world out there." She sounded wistful.
"Why didn't you travel?"
"My father would never have allowed it." She got up and went to her purse. Opening it wide she gazed inside and he could have sworn he saw the tiniest of smiles. One of those little smiles that made him happy, one he'd like to see again and again.
Time to get out, while the getting' was good. He poked the fire again, shoved the logs to the back and added two more. When he stood up Kendall was slathering gloss across her lips.
He could smell the fruity scent from here.
"I should go. You need to rest. Fire should keep you warm. When it burns down, come find me and I'll stoke it again." She lifted those aqua eyes to his.
"You don't have to--"
"It's okay. I should..."
He headed for the door and as his hand closed over the knob he halted. He didn't turn around. "For the record, I don't think you're stupid. A stupid woman would have stayed in a bad situation telling herself it was her fault that her spouse was an abusive asshole." He glanced over his shoulder. "A smart woman knows when to run. Sometimes that's your only option. The best option."
Kendall's eyes misted as she watched the door close behind Burke. It took considerable willpower to watch Burke walk out the door and not tackle him with a bear hug. Though she'd be willing to bet her favorite Berry Cherry ultra gloss that Burke Deveraux had never run from anything in his life, his words calmed her. Reinforced her decision to run. He was right.
She wasn't stupid.
Stupid was staying in an impossible situation without finding a way out, without fighting for what you believed in. She'd made her decision. She'd stick with it and keep running. Life on the run, living on junk food was better than being mated to a slimeball like Carl. Or, with a family that thought of her as a freak.
Or, a father that would use her as collateral in a poker game.
But she was so tired of running. So tired... Kendall's eyelids drooped. It would be so easy to just settle back onto the pillows and drift off to sleep.
Burke managed to ignore the sleeping beauty in his bed for most of the afternoon. He'd finished not one, but two, books on his list. Speed-reading had its advantages.
At lunchtime he'd poked his head into the bedroom and found her clutching his pillow for dear life. The visual had taken its toll on his state of mind since then. Mostly because there was a beautiful, half naked woman in his bed who needed comforting. But also because he knew he'd never be able to get her scent out of his bed linens.
The Fates certainly had a warped sense of humor, sending a beautiful human into his life. He dragged his hand down his face and reread the last paragraph. The problem, of course, with speed-reading was you had to pay closer attention or soon you were five pages along and had no clue what was going on.
A minute later Burke closed his third book of the day and glanced out the window at the mountain range beyond. A cloud hung in the sky over Mt. Washington. He was counting the minutes until he could hit the slopes, feel the wind rushing by him as the conquered the mountain beneath him.
Years ago there'd been talk about him going pro. He was just too good to be a recreational skier the sponsors had said. But Burke didn't want that level of scrutiny. He'd never gotten off on seeing his picture on the cover of magazines. And Deveraux shipping had paid better.
Not that the money was important. Not in the scheme of things. He'd have gladly given up his fortune for a chance at a happy, whole life. A life with a mate. Kids.
Settling back onto the sofa, he closed his eyes and let himself daydream. It was there that he saw her. A vexing blue-eyed blonde holding a darling little aqua eyed girl. And next to them was a boy, almost hip-high with Burke's dark hair and those same startling blue eyes.
The three of them were giggling. Then they smiled...at him.
What were the chances...
Burke recoiled from the horror on Annabelle's beautiful face. Her eyes were wide with terror, her mouth hung open in disbelief, and then her nose...her cute button nose crinkled in disgust. He didn't even bother to shift back to his human self.
What was there left to say?
She'd seen what he was. He'd showed his true self to her. With his heart breaking, he pivoted on his haunches and galloped into the forest.
The damp earth squished between his toes, the scent of spring ripe around him. But it might as well have been a bitter cold winter's day, snowing heavily. Gray and desolate.
He never should have shown himself to her. His brother would call him a fool, and Burke wouldn't be able to deny it. Slowing, he glanced at the place he'd called home all his life. Laurent sat atop the stone wall that circled the stately manor house, a book in his lap.
Their gazes met and locked. Without words, Laurent knew. Burke could see it in his eyes.
You showed her, didn't you, you crazy fool?
Burke laid at his brother's feet, huffing out an agonized breath. Damn, it hurt to inhale. Was it possible for a heart to physically crack?
There was nothing to be said. No hope left for him. He'd thought Annabelle had been the one for him. His woman. She'd looked at him with stars in her eyes.
She was gone. Darkness closed in around him.
Her screams echoed in his ears. They sounded so close, and yet, muffled.
Burke came awake with a start. Kendall.
He dropped his feet over the edge of the sofa, his joints protesting the quick movement.
She lay on her right side, her face a study in pain and torment. Stuffing from the pillow in her death grip lay scattered around her.
"No!" Her hoarse cry reverberated off the polished wooden walls, filling his soul with fury. And in that same instant he lost the battle with himself and went to her, sinking down onto the edge of the bed.
"Kendall...Wake up, chéri." He didn't touch her, afraid he'd startle her. She came awake at the sound of his voice and her face relaxed. But then, as if driven by the fear that still held her in its grasp, she launched herself into his arms, chest against chest, hip against hip. Her arms circled his shoulders and she held on to him with a strength that belied her stature and yesterday's accident.
Having had nightmares of his own for more years than he wished to count, he didn't need to ask her what was wrong. There was nothing like being haunted night after night by a past terror you couldn't change. And in all his years, he'd found no way to rid himself of them.
She trembled against him and he wondered if she was scared or crying. Either way the wolf inside him wanted revenge against those who'd wronged her. That possessiveness, one he hadn't felt in centuries, scared him.
This was temporary. She was temporary. Just until the storm cleared and she could be on her way. But if he caught up with the bastards after her...
"I'm sorry," she murmured, pulling back ever so slightly. He kept his hands on her back, hoping his embrace felt reassuring rather than lecherous.
"Don't be."
Untangle yourself and get outta her bed, wolf.
But he couldn't, not when her fingers still clutched his shirt like he was the only thing anchoring her in this storm.
"How's your shoulder?" he asked, hoping a change of subject would lighten the mood.
"It aches, but I'm managing." She lifted tear filled eyes to his. So blue. So vivid. "Thanks to you."Unable to tear his gaze away, he simply stared down at her. Frozen for the moment.
He'd never seen eyes like that before. Probably wouldn't ever again. Like aqua lasers, they were just one more thing that made Kendall unique.
That was a dangerous train of thought. He couldn't be thinking about her in terms of her uniqueness or how lovely her eyes were or how adorable her nose was.
No siree... The air pressure around them shifted. He turned toward the patio door, surveying the landscape beyond, his senses on high alert. Everything looked still in the twilight.
But then a loud crack echoed across the mountain.
Her fingers clutched him tighter. "What was that?" The ground began trembling, along with the wooden boards beneath his feet.
"Avalanche." He held out his hand to her. "Come on."
"Avalanche?" she cried.
Without a moment to lose he led the way to the center of the house, pulled her inside the windowless pantry and shut the door. The roaring increased in volume and the floor shook beneath their feet.
"Oh my God," she murmured over and over.
"It's all right, chéri."
"All right?" Her voice was shrill. "Being buried alive is not all right."
"It's probably further down the mountain." But he didn't want to take any chances. He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her, holding her still. She continued mumbling into his chest. With a mountain of snow coming apart around them, he shouldn't have found the situation endearing.
But it was impossible not to. And the way her fingers plucked at his sweater...it'd be so easy to duck his head and kiss them both into oblivion. In the darkness he saw her tip her head back. She stared up, eyes wild as the earth continued to shift and buck.
"I should have mentioned...I'm claustrophobic," she said quickly.
"It'll be over soon," he murmured. Too soon.
He slid a hand up her side, over the curve of her breast and cupped her cheek.
Don't do it Deveraux. If you do, there's no going back.
He dipped his head and captured her luscious mouth.
No going back...
For half a second, she was utterly still. Then, as if awakening from a nap, she kissed him back. Leaning against the door, he explored her slowly. Softly at first, then more firmly.
She moaned, her head tipping back ever so slightly. He closed the distance, thrusting his tongue between her parted lips. She sucked him into her mouth and his cock went rigid.
He tightened his hold on her, not wanting any of this to end. Ever. She trembled anew and her hands tightened around his waist. Then she rose up on her tip toes, kissing him with so much passion he had to be imagining it.
She whispered his name against his mouth and shifted her hips against his. Surely she felt his cock, hard as a damn pipe, between them. But he wouldn't make excuses for the way she turned him on. Or how he wanted to kiss every inch of her. He was so tempted to turn her against the door, bracketing her with his body, so he could continue his exploration.
Almost as if she'd read his mind, she trembled. But it was more than that. She was shivering. It was cold in here.
That's when he noticed that the only sound he heard was their own ragged breaths. No avalanche. No quaking floorboards.
"Burke?" She said his name so sweetly, so innocently, he ducked his head again and brushed his lips across hers.
"It's okay, chéri. It's over."
"Oh." She didn't sound as thrilled as she should have, now that they'd escaped being bulldozed by a stampede of snow.
He maneuvered them away from the door and then opened it. "Let's get you back where it's warm."
She nodded wordlessly.
When she was tucked back in his bed and he'd thrown another log on the fire, he turned back to her.
"Can I get you anything? Hot chocolate?"
She trembled again. "Will you---" She licked her lips. Well kissed lips. He couldn't stop staring at them. And now that he knew how wonderful she tasted, how perfectly she responded to him, he would be dreaming of her for a long time to come. "Would you mind staying with me?"
Don't do it. Not a good idea, Deveraux. But the anguish in her eyes had him saying
"sure."He paused, trying to decide where he should sit. He missed his bed but that would only lead to thoughts he shouldn't...couldn't be thinking. She pulled the thick red throw up around her shoulders and then settled back ever so slowly against the pillows.
He told himself to stop looking at her, stop memorizing the way she looked in his bed, but he couldn't help himself. She was the first woman in a very long time to hold his interest.
There was something so genuine about her and he found her babbling refreshing. She wasn't like the polished women that flaunted themselves in front of him. And she wasn't at all like the brash shewolves that let him know in no uncertain terms what they wanted and how much they wanted it.
No, Kendall was in a league all her own. And only twenty-one years old. And human.
But she'd endured so much.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked, her voice soft but not sleepy.
"Just wondering who you are and where you came from."
"You already know who I am and where I came from."
That he did. But the way she said those words made him feel like he'd known her much longer. Without knowing all the details of her life, he felt like he knew the important ones. The ones that made her who she was. The fact that she had a less than stellar father. The fact that she'd lashed out softly by dying her hair and piercing her nose. And when that hadn't worked she'd taken control of her situation and escaped her old life.
"I meant things like hobbies, interests."
"Oh." She chewed her bottom lip for a moment. "Well. Ugh..."
"I like to read," he offered, hoping if he opened up first she'd follow.
"Me too. I would love one of those ereader things." The corners of his lips curved upward. "I like my books old school. There's something about the scent of paper and ink." Plus his fingers were too big for tiny buttons.
"They'll do in a pinch. My mom used to have hundreds of books. The collection drove my father crazy."
There was a glimmer of sadness in her eyes when she spoke of her mother. It was obvious that she'd not had a perfect relationship with either parent, but he sensed that she would have liked to have been closer to her mom.
"Is that why you collect lip gloss?"
She didn't answer him for a long moment. Then she nodded. One quick jerk of the head that had the pink/purple strip of hair falling forward. She tucked it behind her ear. "It was a silly love that my mom and I shared before she died. She wasn't really into cosmetics." Or me, her eyes seemed to say. "But she loved her lip gloss. I still have her favorite tube even though there's not enough gloss left to cover a lady bug, much less my lips. But it reminds me of her." His gaze dropped to the bottom drawer of his nightstand. He'd kept a similar memento to remind him of Annabelle. Mostly of what he'd loved and lost, but also of her betrayal. And her death. He might as well have killed her himself. It was his fault she was dead. His fault that she'd been forced to betray him.
"Ever since then," she continued, pulling him from the past, "I've just kept collecting them. They're cheap, small, ultra portable. And my father never bothered looking in my purse."
"We really should see about getting you a new curling iron. I'm afraid yours is a fire hazard."
She laughed. The sound washed over him, through him, like a soothing balm on an aching sunburn. How surreal that the flash of red that had caught him so unaware on the road had contained this beautiful, sweet woman.
If there was ever a woman who deserved the right to be bitter and jaded, it was Kendall Carver. And yet, she was the epitome of optimism and persistence.
He felt a pang in his heart. Though their paths had crossed, bringing them together, he couldn't keep her in his life. The sooner he got that through his skull the better.
"Do you have any family?" she asked.
He nodded. "I have a brother and three cousins I'm close to."
"You've obviously done well for yourselves." She glanced around the spacious room.
He looked for the usual signs of a woman on the make. There'd been plenty in the past decade or so. Women, beautiful women, who wanted a wealthy husband. Sebastian had let himself be sucked into their beauty and wicked ways, more than the rest of them.
But then, Burke wasn't surprised. His cousin had been so painfully in love with Amanda that her disappearance had crushed him for a time. Burke knew the feeling, the numbness, the loss of hope and even the will to go on.
Years ago he'd dealt with the same emotions. His weakness had almost destroyed him.
And yet, he couldn't change his heart. He couldn't help the softening he felt inside when he looked at the blonde, blue-eyed beauty staring back at him.
"We've done all right," he agreed. Would she make another comment? Press him further about his wealth?
A cold chill went over him.
Could she possibly know who he was? Who the Deverauxs were?
"Parents?"
She continued the conversation so easily, so smoothly. There wasn't a hint of mirth in her eyes. Not a drop of greed in her voice. Surely she would never allow herself to be shot and almost drive off a mountain to get his attention. And how would she have known he was coming to his cabin anyway? It'd been a last minute decision.
"Burke?"
Her sweet voice pulled him from his contemplation.
"Sorry," he muttered, trying to remember her question. Parents...she'd asked about his parents.
"No. My parents are gone." At least that's how he preferred to think of them.
"I miss my mom."
"But not your dad," he concluded.
She shook her head. "Not at all. That probably sounds bad."
"Petit, if there's one thing I know it's that not all parents are cut out to be parents." She seemed to soak that in for a moment and then gave another quick nod. "Tell me about your brother."
He thought for a moment, trying to decide how to encompass everything his brother was into words. There weren't many words to describe such a loyal, noble man. He would never be able to adequately thank him for helping Burke hold it together after losing Annabelle.
And that was just the tip of the proverbial iceberg. Burke was the eldest, but Laurent had saved his hide many times.
"His name's Laurent. He's shorter than me," he said, keeping things light. She grinned.
"He was recently reunited with the love of his life and now they spend all their time making eyes at each other."
Her smile grew and her eyes sparkled. "You miss him," she said.
"A little. But we still see each other every day."
"I don't think I could stand seeing my family every day. I try to stay as far away from them as I can," she said, gazing up at the ceiling.
"I guess it's different when you're close to them." Burke had known a family life like hers. Luckily, he and his cousins had escaped that poisonous life.
Now he couldn't imagine not seeing his family all the time. They were his friends, his confidants. He depended on him and they, him.
Of course, this whole matchmaking thing was pushing the limits, but he knew they just wanted him to know the same kind of happiness they'd found. The kind of breathless, lifelong love that would complete him.
He saw the way the women had changed his brother and cousins, the way their love had unleashed them, soothed them. Lately, he'd wondered if he'd really known that sort of love with Annabelle. Perhaps he'd just imagined it? Maybe he'd told himself that true love didn't happen twice in a lifetime so he wouldn't have to face the potential hurt again.
And if all of that was true why did he still yearn for a relationship as incredible and fulfilling as Laurent and Violet's? And if true love could strike twice, what was he going to do about it?
"Don't you fight all the time?"
Burke tried to remember the last serious fight they'd had. It'd been ages. Almost ten years. The result of that quarrel had caused Amanda to leave the bayou but ultimately it'd made Sebastian, André and Jules closer.
"No. We get along pretty well." Which was saying something. That many werewolves under one roof, that much testosterone, should have been a suicide pact.
"That's nice. I always dreamed of having a family like that." She fell silent for a moment. "Instead, I'm running away from the crazy family I was born into."
"Every family's crazy, petit."
"Some more than others," she murmured.
"Just because my brother and cousins have all found the woman of their dreams they think I should be next."
"Something's definitely in the water down there." She smiled. "Maybe I should take a trip down there and drink some. Do you think it'd help me find the man of my dreams?" He thought of her in the bayou, a handsome Cajun smiling at her, whispering racy words and French endearments. The image made him want to punch the guy.
Knowing jealousy was a bad sign he pulled himself together. "You should try to get some sleep. It'll help you heal."
She put on a brave face but he could see she didn't want to have another nightmare. He didn't blame her.
"I'll be here to wake you up if things get bad."
She turned one of those heart melting smiles on him then. "Thank you," she whispered and it struck him that it had probably been ages, if ever, that someone had looked after her.
Soothed her.
Damn he wanted to kiss her again. Curl up beside her, wrap his arms around her and promise her that everything would be okay.
Can't do that Deveraux. Don't forget the portrait of Annabelle. Don't forget her screams.
Darkness would soon claim the cabin again but Burke could see the silhouette of snow falling against the baby blue sky. Kendall moaned as she sipped her coffee. Burke cleared the table, pleased that he'd been able to come up with a suitable dinner for the herbivore. But she sounded like she was making love to her coffee cup and those throaty little sighs were causing his blood pressure to surge, undoing what the cold shower had managed to accomplish forty five minutes earlier.
Though the wind had died down, it would be a cold night. He'd plugged in his cell phone before dinner, hoping that the cell towers would work tomorrow. It was so hit or miss on the mountain.
There was another message from Laurent teasing him about running away from the mate-hunt. Burke could find his own mate thank-you-very-much.
Ignoring the yearning, he turned to his house guest.
"Can I get you anything else? An apple?" He'd noticed her glee upon finding a refrigerator drawer full of apples after breakfast. Had that really been this morning? It seemed like she'd been here a week already.
"You're such a good host. I'm sorry I crashed your vacation."
"Don't worry about it."
"I think I'll try reading a book. Maybe it'll take my mind off things," she said, turning toward the bedroom.
Burke nodded. "I'll clean up here and come check on the fire." Give it up, Deveraux. You want to check on her. You can't stay away from her.
Man-oh-man was he in trouble. Stranded in a remote cabin with a beautiful woman.
One he could not have any sort of relationship with.
Yep. Serious trouble.
Louisiana, early the next morning
Laurent Deveraux held his mate in his lap, enjoying the way she squirmed against him, her eyes flashing with purple fury...and the promise of retaliation.
Later, chéri.
Amanda waddled, though he'd never use that verb in front of her, into the living room, her hand at the small of her back. The petite blonde huffed out a sigh and furrowed her brow.
Violet leapt up and he let her go, knowing she'd be back soon.
She helped Amanda into an easy chair and asked her if she needed anything.
Amanda shook her head, wincing in pain. "Little fighter won't quit kicking me. I'm blaming his daddy for that."
"Him?" Violet asked, sharing a glance with Laurent.
Amanda had been adamant about not knowing the sex of the baby until it arrived.
Something about doing it old school.
Laurent thought she was just being stubborn, as she had a tendency to do.
"Him. Her. Whatever."
She was also reaching the point in her pregnancy where she just wanted the baby out of her. She said so on a daily basis.
"Has anyone heard from Burke?" she asked, glancing at no one in particular.
"Non," he answered.
"I'm starting to get worried. It's not like him not to call..." She sucked in a sharp breath.
"He's so responsible."
Amanda was right. It'd been over forty-eight hours since they'd last heard from his brother. Between their lives as wealthy bachelors and the constant threat from any non-human species, he and his cousins had always kept in fairly close contact. They'd managed to successfully thwart a kidnapping attempt several years ago thanks to that closeness.
But it could just be the blizzard blazing its way across New England.
"If we haven't heard from him by tomorrow, I'll go check on him myself." That seemed to satisfy his Alpha female.
"Are you sure I can't get you anything?" Violet asked, hovering at Amanda's side.
"A scalpel?"
Laurent frowned. Where the hell was Sebastian? This was his woman and she needed him.
"Perhaps you should see your doctor," he offered, uneasy.
"Four more weeks. I can make it."
He glanced from her pinched face to Violet's and back. Then they all started laughing.
The fluffy white blanket of snow outside the tall window beckoned her. What a fairy-land. Kendall never saw snow back home. Here, tiny snowflakes shimmered down like glitter from the wispy clouds above.
Wow. The mountains in the distance, covered in white, stole her breath as the morning sun turned everything pink and orange. She'd never in her life seen anything more beautiful.
Anything more worthy of awe and reverence.
She stepped closer, aches and fears forgotten. She'd slept well last night, renewing her energy. Obviously, Burke had a soothing presence. And luckily, she was healing on her own, powers or not. But she'd woken up alone, hot and aching for his touch. Yesterday's kiss hadn't been nearly enough.
Burke was a very lucky man to be able to enjoy a view like this every day. Did he know that? She got the impression that something was haunting him. Keeping him from enjoying life to the fullest.
What had the power to haunt a man who seemed to have everything? Wealth. Looks.
Personality. Compassion.
She opened the bedroom door and saw his feet dangling over the end of the sofa. The large piece of leather furniture looked small and uncomfortable when Burke filled it to overflowing. Decorative throw pillows dotted the floor around him and Gin took up residence in the space between the couch and the coffee table.
The big black dog lifted his head as she stepped forward, her heart beating faster as she watched Burke sleep. A deep frown marred his handsome face. What was he dreaming about?
The thing that haunted him?
She knew she shouldn't be concerned about him. Heavens knew, she had her own issues to work out. But she'd always been a sensitive soul or so her mother had said. Her father considered her weak.
She wanted to erase those frown lines and turn them into laugh lines. Such a kind man deserved all the happiness in the world.
He must come from an incredible family. He spoke with so much pride about his brother and cousins. She glanced around the living room to see if he kept pictures of them, but the mantle and tabletops were void of picture frames.
Kendall rubbed her arms, trying to not jar her shoulder. It was cold in here. Why wasn't he in a bed with a warm body? Not body. Blanket! A warm blanket.
Cause you're in his bed. The thought sent a sharp stab of guilt through her.
Gin stood up and stretched then padded his way over to the patio door. She didn't see any harm in letting him out.
When she made her way back to the spot that Gin had vacated, the floor was warm beneath her feet. There was no sense in Burke being cold on top of uncomfortable. She tugged the chenille throw from around her shoulders and draped it over him. It didn't cover much.
He was a big man. Big and so handsome.
Tucking the blanket around him, she gasped when a steely hand snapped out and captured her wrist. Golden brown eyes met hers. Second after second ticked away as they stared at each other, an invisible force pulling them closer.
What would it be like to curl up next to this magnificent man, to feel his strong arms wrapped around her? Something in his eyes told her she had but to lay down to find out. But there was something about him, something that held her in check. A longing. A loneliness etched from years of holding himself aloof.
Making the decision for her, he gave her hand a tug and she toppled forward. He caught her easily against him, his hands wrapping around her waist as if they belonged there.
His heat seeped through the thin cotton dress shirt she wore -- his dress shirt -- and she was reminded of how naked she was underneath. In fact, the shirt provided hardly any barrier at all.
Perhaps he didn't need a blanket to stay warm. She let out the breath she'd been holding, acutely aware of each solid muscle beneath her, and the quickly blossoming ridge behind the fly of his jeans. His heart thumped against her palm.
She had her answer. Being in his arms was the closest thing to heaven she'd ever experienced. Quiet. Secure. Warm. And she was oh-so-tempted to close her eyes and soak it in. But she couldn't tear her gaze from his. He watched her so steadily, as if he hadn't a care in the world.
"How's your shoulder?" he murmured, his gaze flicking to the left.
"Better," she replied in the same quiet tone, afraid that words would break the spell.
"You should be resting," he said, but his words didn't hold any censure.
"I was. But then...I thought you might be cold."
"Not anymore." Something in his eyes told her he was laughing inside and holding back at the same time.
"Oh." The ridge twitched beneath her belly. "Oh! Sorry." She started to get up, trying to figure out where to put her hands. And knees. He wrapped a strong arm around her back and held her to him.
"Don't do that." He groaned the words.
"Sorry."
"Stop apologizing."
Another apology was already on the tip of her tongue but she bit it back.
"You hungry?"
Oh yeah.
"Mmm huh."
"Let's feed you then." He loosened his hold slowly. Did he have any idea how much she wanted to lay here for the rest of the day? She could just lay her head here on his chest and snuggle close. Safe in his arms.
It was up to her to move. To stand. To step away from him. But she found she couldn't.
She wanted to taste him again. Feel his heart beating against hers.
When her gaze narrowed on his lips, he groaned softly and his hands tightened around her hips. Pressing her palms against his chest, she leaned forward. Desire flared there in the dark recesses of his eyes. She licked her lips and he groaned again as he closed the distance between them.
She met him halfway, wishing a kiss could say everything she felt about him. And thank him, not only for rescuing her but making her feel whole. Like she was worth more than the duct tape that held her father's boat together.
As his lips moved beneath hers, giving and taking, she dared to deepen it, needing to be closer to him.
Even with her powers bound, heat and longing raged inside her, more powerful than ever before. The were inside her wanted to strip off their clothes and mate with him. Kiss and nibble her way down from his lips and explore every muscle.
His tongue stroked her lips and the fire intensified in her veins. She opened for him, letting her own tongue dance with his. As their mouths mated, he slid his hands beneath her shirt and massaged her skin. Firm circles, round and round with his fingertips, her attention was torturously divided. And she was out of breath.
She came up for air just long enough to tilt her head to the right, giving him a hot, open-mouthed kiss. He made a sound of satisfaction that sent shivers of delight over her shoulders and down her back. With a will of their own, her hips shifted against him. He used his hands to keep up the motion, rocking her against his erection.
He felt so good. She felt so free. So happy. His kisses were a drug she was quickly becoming addicted to. For every one he gave her, she wanted a thousand more.
Snagging his lower lip between her teeth, she gave a playful laugh when his hips jerked upward, driving his cock against her.
Pleasure like she'd never known consumed her, bone deep. No one she'd ever met could hold a candle to the man beneath her, driving her mindless with almost-innocent touches.
She moved to his chin, kissing and nipping every inch she could reach. He tipped his head back. Breathing hard, he moaned her name. In all her life, she'd never heard a more delicious, more needy sound. Legs tangled, toes curling, she nuzzled his cheek, feeling the evidence of his five o'clock shadow.
If the taunt muscles beneath her palms didn't prove it, the gentle stubble against her cheek proved he was all man. Warm, solid man. With a hard cock.
"Kendall..."
"Yes?" she whispered against his skin.
Why didn't he touch her?
His hands clamped over her ribcage and lifted her away from him, saving her from the fire in her shoulder that the exertion would have surely caused.
"Burke?" She frowned down at him, hating the chill that was quickly chasing away the heat they'd shared. After growing up feeling like an Amazon woman, she loved how small and light he made her feel. It was nice that he didn't seem to notice what a freak she was. He looked at her like she was normal. Just a woman.
His nostrils flared slightly as he stood. She couldn't stop the pang of rejection that hit her heart like a dart. The life giving muscle squeezed and her lungs constricted. It was on her lips to ask him what she'd done wrong but at the last second decided she'd rather not know.
She felt shaky. And emotional.
Burke was both relieved and bereft when Kendall stood. Why the hell had he pulled her to him? He let his gaze rake over her half dressed form and kissable lips.
That was why.
He was letting himself be sucked in and seduced by a woman who had no idea how alluring she was. And no idea what he was.
He raked his fingers through his hair, avoiding the pleading look in her beautiful eyes.
If he met her gaze he knew he'd cave and sweep her back into his arms. Settle her on his lap.
And kiss them both back into oblivion...and beyond.
As if sensing his inner battle, she took a step back. "I'll go see about breakfast." She retrieved the blanket and moved around the coffee table toward the kitchen.
Torn between wanting her to give him space and wanting to pull her back, he shoved his hands in his pockets.
Damn, that couch wasn't fit to sleep on. His shoulder popped, but he ignored it, instead reminding himself all the reasons he was here. And those reasons did not include a beautiful woman like Kendall. No matter how his protective instincts tried to tell him otherwise.
She could cause pain far worse than a soft couch.
Besides she had plenty of problems of her own to deal with without having to worry about a horny werewolf.
The morning light lit his way to the adjoining kitchen.
"What are you thinking about so hard? Is breakfast that difficult of a decision?" Kendall asked from across the island, her voice soft and teasing.
"Nothing important," he lied.
She put a pot on the stove and then padded into the pantry, a corner of the blanket dragging behind her. Not for the first time he was struck by her sweetness, and the innocent way she carried herself.
Needing to keep a certain amount of distance between them, he took the oatmeal and brown sugar from her hands. "I'll do that. Go sit down and stay warm." Watching him work, she took her seat on the stool.
"Your home has the most incredible view I've ever seen," she said. "I don't think I'd ever get tired of waking up to that every morning." He spared her a glance as he waited for water to fill the measuring cup. She'd rested her chin in the palm of her hand and sat staring out the windows.
He'd bought this place as a sanctuary, a place for him to come and spend time away from everything and everyone else.
"I thought it made a nice getaway," he agreed.
"I bet your family loves it here."
"I think they will."
In the back of his mind he'd known this would be a great vacation home for the pack. It was spacious. Packed with all the modern conveniences a large family could want.
Only, he'd miscalculated how large.
The four women in Deveraux pack were unexpected, but blessings nonetheless.
"Think?"
"They've never been here before."
She nodded but didn't say anything else.
Later, Kendall relished the last bite of her oatmeal. He was getting better at making the creamy concoction. And this morning he'd made her a double portion. Surely, oats and brown sugar had never tasted so good. Burke raised an eyebrow at her little moan of happiness.
"What? It's good. How do you think I stay so sweet?" she asked innocently.
He shook his head. "Nothing." Then he reached for the phone, clicked a button and held it to his ear. "Phone's still out."
"Waiting for an important call? Girlfriend or winning lotto numbers?" She grinned.
He regarded her for a moment and once again, she felt naked under his gaze. He seemed to take in all of her at once, from head to toe, as if he were searching for secrets. Or deception. "Just need to touch base with my family." He really did have the most gorgeous accent.
"It must be nice to be missed. To be so close," she voiced the idea that had been running through her brain all morning. She longed for a closeness like that. For a caring family unit.
"Sometimes we're too close."
She laughed. He was nothing if not honest.
"They want me to find a wife," he explained. "And be as blissfully happy as they are."
"But you're not ready."
He shrugged.
"You live better than any bachelor I know," she said, glancing around the elegantly modern dining area. "I would say it's missing a woman's touch, but this place isn't missing anything."
As his gaze narrowed on her she feared she'd said too much, given too many of her feelings away.
"I just don't think it's the kind of thing a person should rush."
"I'm sure your brother wanted to rush his wife to the altar, since they'd been apart for so long." What must that be like? Knowing you're in love with someone but being separated from them for years. She got a sour feeling in her stomach.
The corner of his handsome mouth lifted.
"Why not tell them that you met someone. That should buy you some time." His brows drew together. "They wouldn't believe it."
"So, embellish. Make it believable."
He thought for a moment and then chortled. His gaze met hers over top of their coffee mugs. "You don't know my family. In order for it to be believable, I'd have to show up married."
His words knocked the air right out of her lungs. She quickly focused on the mountains behind him and tried to calm her racing heartbeat. Why did the idea of him marrying someone else feel like a hot brand to her chest? Why did she want to get up and pace the room? She had no claim on him. No...this wasn't happening. Couldn't happen. He was human.
She wasn't.
But without her powers...she wasn't were either.
"What about you? Would Carl back off if you got married? What would your father think?"
The idea of her getting married made her heart falter, then jump back to a rapid pace.
For a teeny moment she allowed herself to daydream. Wouldn't it be blissful if Burke was offering?
She gulped her coffee, burning her tongue.
"I guess he'd have to. And my father wouldn't be able to lord over me either. It would thwart Carl's plan and buy me time I suppose." And with enough time, she could figure out where to go and what to do with her life.
"Maybe after a while he would forget about the poker game and his plans to steal your inheritance," Burke suggested.
"He's welcome to my inheritance. I don't want it. My father thinks I'm the prize that Carl really wants. That couldn't be farther from the truth. I don't want anything to do with any of them." She realized her voice had raised an octave and she sounded shrill. Even to her own ears, she could hear her desperation.
But marriage was a crazy daydream. Just something to get her hopes up. Burke wasn't offering marriage and the whole idea of saying "I'm married, you have to leave me alone now" seemed too good to be true.
"The funny thing is, my father is too stupid -- too drunk -- to see the writing on the wall." Her heart squeezed for a moment. She'd grown up feeling like a second class citizen in her own household...had worked like one too. And yet, she still mourned the loss of the childhood she could have had and the fact that her father was too out of his mind to know he'd quite possibly signed his own death sentence.
"I have no doubt that as soon as Carl and I married my father would have some sort of fatal accident. Carl isn't the type to wait around for what he wants." Burke seemed to digest that. "Why didn't you leave sooner?" he asked and then took a long swallow of his coffee.
"I only bought that car last month. I saved for a long time. No one in my family was going to help me. And my father didn't believe in paying me for my work since I'm family." She mocked the last three words. The pain and desperation of the last few years came storming back.
Burke reached across the table and covered her hand with his. The gesture was quietly reassuring.
She could read the question in his gaze...the one he wouldn't ask.
"I didn't steal it...but boy, I thought about doing just that. Every single day." His smile was back and it made her heart pound in her chest.
"I did small odd jobs. Washing cars. Watering plants. But mostly I'd walk the parking lots and pick up any change I found on the ground." For a time she'd had a crick in her neck from staring at the ground so long. She could have walked right by Burke and not even noticed him for the constant search for the next quarter.
Quarters were rare. People usually took the time to pick them up if they'd noticed the coin dropping to the ground. She'd lost count of how many pennies she'd found. A smile curved her lips when she thought of the evening she'd found a ten dollar bill winging its way toward a sewer grate. She hadn't moved that fast before or since.
On the other hand, a man like Burke Deveraux was the sort that would stop you in your tracks and make you twist your neck around just so you could watch him walk away. If he'd been anywhere nearby that late August evening, she'd probably have let that ten dollar bill go right down into the sewer.
"You are one amazin' woman, Kendall Carver."
She warmed under his praise.
"Think so?"
"I know so." He pushed away from the table. "I should go see about that tree."
"Tree?" She frowned, trying to follow his train of thought.
"The one that killed your car?"
Oh. "Right."
That tree.
"I'll be back in a few hours." He put the phone back in the cradle and headed for a door in the hallway. She watched as he shrugged into his coat and tried not to notice that the man had a butt to make women beg. He turned back to her, once again, that inquisitive gaze raking over her, giving her tingles. "You'll be all right by yourself?" She gave the monstrous log home a quick once over. "I'll manage," she said.
But as she stood at the large picture window watching him stalk through the deep snow, lugging a giant chainsaw, she wondered if she really would manage. How would she ever leave him, this place and continue her life as if he'd never been a part of it?
Burke shook the snow out of his hair and slipped off his boots. Something smelled amazing. He dispensed with his outerwear and stepped into the kitchen. Warm light cast a dreamy glow over the beautiful blonde swaying back and forth in front of the stove.
Evidently she'd managed to get some laundry done because denim incased her long legs. Tight denim. And since her sweatshirt had been ruined, she'd found one of his sweaters.
It hung down, hiding her backside from his view. Her long hair was clipped loosely at the nape of her neck and he had the strongest urge to walk over and plant a kiss just below her right ear. Slip his arms around her waist and pull her back against him so he could soak up the feel of her lush body.
Had it really been forty-eight hours since she'd stormed into his life? She looked so natural there, standing in his kitchen in his clothes. Like she belonged in his home.
But then she turned toward him and her face lit up.
Wow. So this is what he'd been missing his whole life?
He strode slowly toward her, not trusting himself or the beast snapping its teeth for release. Shoving his hands into his pockets he offered her a smile. "Smells good." He spied a steak on the grill and felt the burn of admiration that she'd overcome her aversion to meat long enough to fix him a hearty dinner.
"Have a seat. It's almost ready." She jerked her head toward the dining table where two place settings sat at opposite ends of the table.
Suddenly he felt sweaty and in need of sprucing before he sat down at that table. "Give me a minute to wash up."
He returned five minutes later, refreshed, showered, and wearing sweat-free clothes.
By the slight grin on her face as she placed a plate in front of him, she caught the change in his attire. "Here you go." Steak, potatoes and plenty of vegetables. He didn't comment, but ate them, grateful to have something warm in his belly.
All day he'd tried to ignore the beautiful woman sitting across the table from him. More importantly, he tried to ignore the desire to pull her into his lap and kiss her until they were both breathless. He was lucky he hadn't cut his hand off earlier since his thoughts had constantly wondered back to the cabin and the woman in his bed. The woman who'd fit against him so perfectly that morning. The woman who'd been so responsive last night.
But kissing her wouldn't solve anything. It hadn't solved anything. Not his desire. No, it only made him want her more. He had to stick to the rule. No humans. Ever.
A while later he brought up a topic he'd been thinking about off and on for most of the afternoon. "Glad I got the driveway plowed this afternoon. Might be able to get you to a doctor tomorrow."
She wrinkled her nose. Damn she was cute. And sexy. A rare combination in his opinion. "I don't need to see a doctor. I'm fine. Practically healed."
"You were shot," he countered.
"But I'm alive. Thanks to you. Sure, I'll have a scar, but scars are sexy, right?" He frowned. Wasn't she worried about an infection? Lasting issues?
"We'll talk about it later. How about dessert? There should be a pie in there." The D word hung in the air between them and he could see her mind churning. Her cheeks took on a rosy hue and her breathing seemed to shallow. He imagined the table melting away between them, and an invisible force pulling them together so he could claim the dessert he truly wanted.
"No. Thanks. I---I think I might take a bath, if that's all right."
"Of course. The water heater is gas so it should be plenty warm." Now if he could just manage to not think of her, naked and wet in his bathtub. "I'll -- ugh -- check on the fire.
Thermometer seems to be stuck at five degrees today." He followed her into the bedroom and put the last log on the fire. "That should do it for a while."
She stopped in front of the bathroom door and smiled back him. "Thanks." That was his queue to move. To leave her. So why was it so damn hard to turn away from her and go get more firewood? It wasn't as if she was going to invite him to join her.
Never mind that the oversized tub was plenty big for the both of them...
Spurred into action, mostly out of desperation that she didn't see the hard-on forming behind the fly of his jeans, he rose and pivoted toward the door. "I'll leave you to it." Maybe it was time for another cold shower. Or a run in the snow.
Damn he wished he could get in touch with Laurent. He needed an ass kicking, if only verbally, because he couldn't seem to control himself around his house guest, no matter how many times he reminded himself that the situation was only temporary. And more importantly, she was a human.
He pulled the door closed behind him and dropped his head back against it. Gin popped his head up from behind the coffee table and Burke heard the telltale sound of the dog's tail tapping against the floor. The snow had died down, leaving a cloak of white shimmering in the moonlight. Maybe a late night romp in the cover of darkness was just what he needed.
Burke sank into the knee-deep snow as he gazed down at the sleepy valley. The night was still, calm, crisp. Beautiful and yet biting cold. Overhead, stars winked from the heavens.
And below...
The master bathroom light blazed in the darkness.
Don't look. Don't you dare look, Deveraux.
But his eyes had a mind of their own. He couldn't stop himself from searching her out.
She was exactly what he didn't need. A woman who made him lose himself. A woman who made him forget the past and all the painful lessons he'd learned. She was like lime juice on an open wound. Bright, fruity, colorful, exotic, and yet, she burned like hell.
Kendall stepped to the tub in front of the massive window. She obviously had no idea anyone was watching her. At this altitude, with half a mountain between him and his nearest neighbor, he'd never felt the need to install curtains in the bathroom. And the bastard in him was far too happy with that decision right about now.
Her hands moved to the top button of the shirt he'd lent her. He sucked in a steadying breath. With the top button undone, she reached for the faucet. Her hands moved to the second button. Then the third.
Dieu.
Annabelle had been right about him. He was an animal. And the animal inside him wanted to lick Kendall from head to toe.
The fourth button slipped through the hole and the shirt hung open, revealing dreamy breasts, a sexy waist. She shoved her jeans over her hips, displaying a triangle of blonde curls.
Despite the cold, heat sizzled through him. He took in a lungful of icy air. Why was he torturing himself like this? Watching her undress made him rock hard and there was nothing he could do about it.
Annoyed with himself and his lack of control he called for Gin and headed to the side of the house where his firewood was stacked. Arms laden with dry logs he made his way through the patio door and stomped off his boots. He'd just managed to twist open the bedroom door when the generator cut out, casting the house in darkness.
"Burke?" Kendall's alarmed cry shot straight to his heart.
"It's all right," he called, dropping the wood next to the fireplace. Then he stepped to the bathroom door. "The generator went off. I'll bring you some candles."
"I feel like a jack-in-the box," she said a few moments later when he brought a trio of candles in and placed them on the vanity. "Jumping at every little sound." Somehow he managed not to glance her way, nor look at her reflection in the mirror as the candles flickered to life. The room glowed.
"Better?" he asked, his gaze fixed on the golden flames.
"Yes. Thank you."
Too bad he didn't have any whiskey left. He could sure use a glass or ten right now. He headed for the dining room. Scotch would have to do.
A strangled cry tore from Kendall's lips as the hot water hit her wounded shoulder.
"Stupid---" she exclaimed, tears springing to her eyes.
"You okay in there?" Burke asked from the doorway.
"I'm an idiot. Was trying to wash my hair." Dernit that hurt.
Burke sighed. She couldn't blame him for being annoyed with her. She was annoyed with herself. And the whole situation. If she could just turn, she'd be fine. Healed.
But it was no use wishing for things that would never be.
Then why do you keep daydreaming that this is your house and Burke is your mate?
A little voice whispered through her mind.
"Need some help?"
She wiped at the tears in her eyes, so tired of having to depend on Burke's generosity.
Sick that she had no way to repay him.
"Thank you sounds so weak," she said.
"I'll be right back."
He returned less than a minute later with a large plastic cup. As if he'd done this a thousand times, he settled himself on the edge of the tub and reached for the shampoo bottle.
"Might want to hold your hand over the wound," he said.
Suddenly feeling a little shy, she clamped her hand over the wet bandage and bit her lip. Moonlight illuminated his face and she saw the look of utter concentration there.
"You're such a gentleman." The words popped out of her mouth before she could stop them. "I'm trying to be." He dipped the cup into the water and then stopped, hands frozen in the air above her.
"You all right?"
"Yeah." But his voice was a little shaky and unconvincing.
"You don't have to do this you know. I can just take a shower tomorrow or something." She saw the muscle over his jaw tense.
"Are you gay?" she blurted. She didn't think so, based on his reaction earlier, but she had to know. It didn't matter that he was a human and she wasn't and that they had no hope of anything everlasting. She just had to know.
"What?" The incredulity in his tone said it all.
"I take that as a no."
"Damn straight," he said, snatching back his hands.
"It's okay if you are."
"I'm not."
"Okay."
"Why the hell would you think I'm gay?"
She chewed on her lip, upset that she'd agitated him. "I'm sorry. I -- just---I get it now.
I'm not your type."
His head jerked back as if she'd slapped him. And for several long, excruciating moments he said nothing. She looked away.
Tell me I'm wrong, her heart cried.
"You're right. You're not my type."
She pursed her lips, nodding as her heart broke into a thousand tiny pieces. Dernit, she hadn't even known how attached she'd grown to him until that moment. She blinked back a fresh wave of tears.
"Hold still," he said before dumping a glassful of water over her head. It was probably a good thing because the water washed away her tears. "Sorry. First day on the job," he said lightly.
She tried to smile at that and failed miserably. If she could just hold still long enough it'd be over. Part of her wanted to tell him to go, but she couldn't. He'd know then that she had feelings for him. And how pathetic was that? She'd known him for two days.
Or worse, he'd think she was taking a bath, claiming her shoulder ached just to get his attention.
But as he squirted shampoo onto the palm of his hand, rubbed them together and then proceeded to massage it into her scalp she realized that it'd never be over. The bath yes, but not the memory of him. Not her longing.
She closed her eyes and tried valiantly to ignore how erotic it was to have a man wash her hair.
Not just any man, the voice whispered. This man.
His fingertips caressed her skin, sliding through her hair. And forever more when she smelled coconut, she'd think of him.
"Thanks for doing this," she managed to say as he began rinsing out the suds. She didn't look at him though. Couldn't. She stared straight ahead.
"Tilt your head back," he instructed gently.
Which meant looking up at him. She could hardly stand it. She squeezed her eyes shut against the tears.
The old lady in town had been wrong. Yes, she'd found shelter up the mountain. But with her heart breaking more each second, she no longer considered herself safe.
Stubborn woman. Stubborn hard-on.
Burke cut the engine and reached for his coat. Kendall had staunchly refused to see a doctor. He had half a mind to get a doctor to do a house call.
Or physically carry her down the mountain.
The wolf inside warned that they wouldn't make it half a mile before he caved to his desire. When had he become so weak?
Shrugging into his thick winter coat, he marched toward the general store. Icy wind whipped his hair around his face as he stepped over a snow dune. He glanced around the mostly deserted town but didn't notice anything, or anyone, out of place.
Years ago when he'd first rolled into the mountain town, the old-timey general store had caught his eye immediately, reminding him of the past. And though the rich and famous now flocked to the valley to get away, the town had kept its charm. And somehow the locals never seemed to get star struck.
He pulled open the heavy front door and stepped into the casual atmosphere he liked so much. Over the years he'd come to know the owners. Today, the two old men sat on either side of the old wood stove.
"Hi Donald. George. Hit the slopes lately?" he asked the man in red and black plaid.
George Jenkins was famous for growing up in the mountains but according to the locals, he'd had never skied them. It was a running joke around town. And George was adamant about staying off the trails, no matter what level. No one knew why. But his answer to Burke's question was the same as always.
"As soon as I sprout wings, son."
Burke smiled and glanced around the well-stocked store. "Is your phone working?"
"Nope. 'Fraid not," George said, his thick gray brows pinching together as he frowned.
"I can't get cell reception either."
"Damn storm knocked everything out. Supposed to be another one tomorrow," Donald said. "Need any lanterns? Candles? They're goin' quick."
"Thanks, but I've got everything I need."
Burke turned to leave and a tall redhead stepped into his path.
"Everything?" she asked, a sultry pout on her red lips. Rachelle. The beautiful shewolf who'd graced his bed many nights in the past hiked her fingers up his chest. He could feel the old men looking at them, interested in the latest development in their town. Since privacy was always a concern, Burke had kept his relationship, if you could even call it that, with Rachelle a secret.
He ignored the invitation in her blue-green eyes. "Rachelle, you're looking well."
"So are you, handsome. Ready to take me home and warm me up?" She leaned in close.
"I can't---"
She sucked in a startled breath. "You smell like---a human."
"I'm helping her out. Until the storm clears and she can get back on the road. Nothing more."Which wasn't entirely true. But she didn't need to know that. Shewolves could be very jealous and he didn't need to borrow trouble. One thing he did realize while staring down at the woman who'd been a casual partner for several years, he had no desire to keep her in his life after his vacation was over. Taking her back to the bayou with him and introducing her to his family had never crossed his mind. There were sparks, but no real connection.
"What happened to your no humans rule?" she asked, her voice low enough so no one else could hear. Her lips curved up in disgust and she took a crisp step back, pulling her shoulders down.
She was everything Kendall wasn't. Brash, self assured, sexually confident, never-took-no-for-an-answer. Kendall was lovely, but unsure of her beauty. Quietly strong with a tendency to babble.
"Her gender doesn't matter." Except, it did. Very much. Just like his no humans rule mattered. He was royally f--
"If you say so." The smile she directed at him was somewhere between perplexed and knowing. She turned to the door and tossed a parting line over her shoulder. "See you around, Burke."
Seeing the redhead storm out the door gave him an idea. If she was that upset over a platonic relationship, how would she react if she heard Burke was married? Surely this Carl fellow would be equally dejected.
If Kendall decided to go through with a marriage of convenience, she'd need protection, at least for a little while. Maybe that'd be long enough to get Laurent off his back. And when they broke up, Burke could act heartbroken again and they wouldn't bug him for another century at least.
He turned back to George and Donald who were puttering with a stand of oil lamps.
"On second thought..."
Kendall stopped chewing her lower lip as Burke came through the door, relieved he'd returned. Good gracious, he was handsome, not to mention he looked like he'd walked right off the cover of an Abercrombie & Fitch catalog. She had the strongest urge to welcome him home with a full body hug and a long, deep kiss.
She stayed planted next to the coffeemaker.
Okay, so she didn't really want to stop with a kiss. But she'd already overstayed her welcome. Upset his life.
Gin trotted over to Burke, giving him a welcoming tail waggle. She smiled as Burke hunched over and scratched the dog behind the ears, talking softly to him as if they shared many inside jokes.
Longing surged inside her. She wanted somebody to be that happy to see her.
No, not just somebody. This man who'd captured a piece of her with his gentle smile and protective streak.
When he straightened, his gaze immediately swerved to hers and his face went expressionless.
Oh God. Here it comes.
"Phones are down in town." He stood, shaking the snowflakes out of his hair and stepped back into the mudroom to hang up his coat. "And I didn't see anyone suspicious."
"Trying to get rid of me already? Not that I blame you. I could eat you out of oatmeal and brown sugar." She smiled through the ache in her heart. It'd only been a few days but she felt at home here. More than anywhere she'd ever been and she didn't want to leave this place yet. Leave him. Her gaze drifted to his lips, jaw, wide shoulders. She'd never felt so safe as she did here, with him, safely ensconced in a winter wonderland, high above the rest of the town.
"No." He strode toward her, his eyes raking over her until she had chills. As if they shared everything, he plucked the coffee cup from her hands and took a long sip, his gaze never drifting from hers. The intimate gesture weakened her resolve.
And her knees.
She braced a hand against the counter. Her pulse spiked as he smiled down at her, a slow, seductive grin that made her lean forward. Good God, he was like a drug. Handsome as sin. Smooth as silk. And as seductive as a chocolate covered cherry.
"Just thought, maybe you'd relax a little."
Kendall could never relax. Not until Carl stopped searching for her. And that would likely never happen. Which meant she couldn't stay here. She'd hitchhike out of here if she had to because she couldn't put Burke in danger.
"Tempting." She licked her lips. "But I should probably get out of your hair. I've intruded long enough."
He put the mug down and though neither of them moved, he seemed closer. "You're not intruding."
She wanted to believe that. He reached up, cupping her cheek in a big warm palm. She couldn't stop the sigh that escaped her lips, but she managed to hold herself steady even though every ounce of her demanded that she lean into him. Wrap her arms around him and never let go.
He took a step back, letting his hand drop, and pushed a bag across the counter. "I got you something."
Her heart skipped a beat and she grinned up at him like a goofy schoolgirl. "I love presents."
She dove into the bag and pulled out a box. A cellphone box.
"I figured you needed one. Now you don't have to worry about your old battery always dyin' on ya."
She stared at the box and then up at him, ready to melt at his feet. She'd never known such a thoughtful man. In that instant, she lost another piece of her heart to him.
"It's got a local number. But you can change it to whatever you want." The moment turned bittersweet as she considered what getting a new number meant.
"But it's paid up for a year, so---"
She cut him off with a hug. "Thank you." She pressed her cheek against his chest, holding him tight, knowing it'd be the last time she'd ever get to hug him. She swallowed the lump in her throat as tears sprang to her eyes.
"Let's go for a walk," he murmured.
His deep voice coaxed her from her melancholy. Then his words settled in and her gaze swerved to the window and then down at the cotton shirt and jeans. "Out there? In all that snow? Isn't it a little cold?"
He chuckled. "Go look on the entry table, petit." Oh, she loved when he called her that. Heart racing, she stepped past him and scurried into the foyer. She found three large bags with a logo on the side she didn't recognize.
Excitement washed over her as she reached inside. Burke really was the most thoughtful man on the planet. How in the world was she going to repay him?
"Sweats. Jeans. A few other necessities. A couple of sweaters and a coat," he murmured from behind her.
She whirled toward him, tears in her eyes. "Thank you sounds paltry," she whispered.
"What are friends for?"
Friends. She sniffed. It'd been hard for her to make friends, being the tallest werecoyote around. How pathetic was it that Burke was the first person she honestly considered her friend?
"I didn't mean to make you cry," he said, hands shoved into his pockets. He looked unsure for the first time since she'd known him.
"These are happy tears."
"Ahh." Relief relaxed his jaw. "Go get dressed."
She clutched the thick coat, complete with faux fur collar, and scooped up the bags before heading to the bedroom. As she passed him, she stood on her tip toes and planted a kiss on his cheek. He didn't move or say a word but she felt the tension in his stance.
On the way out, Burke pulled scarves and hats from the large coat closet and wrapped her up like a fleece burrito. When he pulled out a shoe box with new boots inside she made a little sound of glee. But then her gaze grew worried and she chewed her lower lip.
"Burke, this is too much."
Which was exactly what he'd been telling himself when he'd stalked down the street from the general store and spent half an afternoon shopping for a woman he'd known less than a week. But he couldn't let her continue walking around his cabin in jeans and his dress shirt. The image alone was enough to make him hard at the most inopportune times.
"Let's try 'em on," he said, guiding her to the bench in the mudroom. The worry that had clouded her features a moment ago disappeared and was replaced by a smile that made him want to kiss her. Again.
"How did you know my sizes?" she murmured as he laced up the leather boots.
"Magic," he replied. Truth was, he'd looked. But that sounded unromantic and intimate. He couldn't afford to think of her in a romantic or intimate way, especially considering the item in his pocket.
When Kendall looked like a plaid polar bear, he headed for the door. "Gin, you comin?" Always ready for an adventure, the big black dog trotted toward him.
"Wait, I have an extra scarf," she said, caressing the red fleece.
"You might need that." Burke waved her over. She stood in the doorway, letting the heat out, seemingly transfixed by the snow.
"Wow." The single word held every bit of awe and emotion he was feeling when he looked at her, his gaze tracing her profile.
Pulling himself from the reverie, he shook his head quickly. "You really haven't seen snow before, have you?"
"Not like this. This is so cold. And deep." She took a tentative step onto the deck. Burke didn't bother with a snow shovel. He cupped her elbow and led her to the side yard.
A hundred yards or so above the cabin the hill flattened out. Flanked on two sides by a steep drop-off was the clearing where he liked to sit and ponder. The back was surrounded by trees and the front: never-ending sky. It was the place where he felt most at peace with the world, where he could survey his property and every corner of the valley below.
They made their way up to the ridge. Her head swiveled around as she took everything in.
"Watch your step," he said, pointing to the cliffs.
She nodded and paused for a moment, taking it all in.
Enjoying her delight, he stooped to build a snowman. It'd been years since he'd done such a thing, but the construction process came back to him quickly and he made short work of packing and rolling three large snowballs. He hadn't felt this young or carefree in centuries.
As he put the snowman together, he kept an eye on Kendall as she moseyed around the plateau, touching the trees, tasting the snowflakes falling gently from above.
He'd known she would be delighted with this place. The smallest things made her happy. And he, God help him, loved making her happy.
When at last, the three graduated balls of snow balanced one on top of the other, he called out "I think this guy needs a scarf."
Kendall turned from petting Gin, her azure gaze taking in the snowman. A huge grin blossomed on her face and she lifted joyful eyes to his a half second before she squealed and ran into his arms. She was strong, hugging him tightly around the waist.
"I love it!" she exclaimed, untangling herself just long enough to wrap the red scarf around the snowman's neck.
And he loved her. Crazy as it was.
It was a foreign feeling, just a memory really. And yet, so much stronger. Completely and utterly wrong. His feelings for the blonde haired beauty went against everything, every rule he'd given himself for two centuries. But he really didn't have a choice. The heart loved who it loved, damn the consequences.
Needing to get his mind off of the tender feelings coursing through him, the desire that wouldn't die, he changed the subject. "We haven't completed your initiation," he told her, trying to remind himself all the reasons he couldn't haul her to him right now and kiss her breathless.
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah." He bent down, snagged a hand full of snow, compacted it on the way back up and tossed it at her. It exploded against her shoulder and she laughed with delight.
He loved how her eyes sparkled when she was happy. They should always be sparkling.
Laughing mischievously, she quickly launched a return assault. And then it was war.
Handful after handful of snow. They lobbed each other, ducking behind fir trees and boulders.
When she used the snowman as cover he snuck up and dropped a perfect sphere of snow on her head. She sputtered, laughing as she stood and threw two snowballs at him, close range.
He brushed the residual flakes from his coat and pulled her around Frosty, into his arms. It'd been ages since he'd had this much fun. Since he'd forgotten all of his worries. He had her to thank for that.
"You warm enough?"
She nodded, wrapping her arms around him. Good grief, that felt good.
"I've been thinking about what you said yesterday. About your suggestion that I tell my family I've met someone."
"Yeah?" Her voice was muffled against his chest.
"I think it could work."
She took a quick step back, staring up at him, her bottom lip trembling. His beast didn't like the distance between them.
"I think we should get married."
"Married? You...we..."
He nodded. "We'll send word back to Florida so that Carl knows you're off the market. I realized today that if you were to go through with your idea you're going to need protection.
Poaching a man's territory isn't something he'd take lightly."
"Poaching?" she chirped. "Territory?"
"You know what I mean." He hoped. This was all coming out wrong.
"I---we can't. If anyone would need protection, it'd be you. You're innocent in all this.
This is my mess." She paced back and forth, wearing a groove in the snow. "When you came home earlier I was going to ask you to drive me to town so I could move on." Move on? Wow. Those words felt like a dagger to the heart. But he could see in her eyes, hear in the breathlessness of her voice that she cared for him. Otherwise, why would she be willing to run out in the middle of the snow with no car, no job, no means of outrunning the men behind her.
She chewed her lip, obviously considering his offer. Then she shook her head. "I've already been here too long. They'd hurt you. Or kill you. And I couldn't live with that." She sounded close to tears.
He took her by the shoulders and turned her toward him. "Trust me. I can take care of myself. I was---" he thought for a moment about how to sum up all his military experience.
"Special forces."
Her eyes widened at that. Then she stared down at her feet for a long moment. She was going to tell him no. He could feel it. "Why would you do that? We hardly know each other."
"We know each other plenty. The important stuff anyway. And besides, the marriage will be strictly professional. Appearances only. And just long enough to suit both our needs." Suiting his needs, however, didn't mean an appearances only marriage. He wanted the real deal, with all the trimmings. The warm body gracing his bed. Her lips beneath his. Her legs wrapped around his hips. But he couldn't go there.
"If Carl wants to marry you to claim your inheritance, he can't do it if you're already married."
She nodded her agreement.
His heart eased. The argument was so open ended he was surprised she didn't call him on it. But that didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was keeping her safe.
He pulled a ring box from his pocket and flipped up the lid. Her gasp was all that he'd hoped. The perverse part of him would take great satisfaction at seeing his ring on her finger.
He'd waited an hour for the local jeweler to come into town to open his shop. But the look on Kendall's face was worth it.
If she never had anything else in life, she'd have this ring.
"Burke---" She held gloved hands to her cheeks. "It's too much!"
"No one's going to believe you're married to a Deveraux if you don't have the rock to prove it."
Her eyes met his briefly. "You're that rich, huh?"
He gave her his most wolfish grin. "Obscenely."
The next day after breakfast, Kendall climbed into the truck next to Burke and they headed down the mountain. Gin hadn't wanted to stay at home and had only laid down when Burke had promised him a T-bone.
Carnivores.
She was admittedly a little tense about the drive and the possibility of running into the Dirk brothers again. But she didn't say anything to the handsome man who was about to become her husband.
He didn't seem the least bit concerned about his safety. She'd thought about nothing else.
They rode in silence to the clerk's office. After she'd sworn up and down that she didn't want or need a wedding dress, he'd agreed to a quickie Justice of the Peace wedding. As usual, she was amazed at how fast he did things. He left no time or energy for second guessing.
Burke was the type of man who saw a problem and solved it.
Kendall had never met anyone like him. And as she glanced over at his profile, she doubted she'd ever meet anyone else who could hold a candle to him. How was it in the course of a few short days he'd boosted her self esteem, made her feel beautiful and worthy and made her feel safe?
She hadn't gotten more than a cursory glance at the town when she'd first blown through. He drove slowly, letting her note the quaint buildings, old signage, and colorful window displays.
At the end of the main street he pulled into a parking space.
"Ready?" he asked.
"Yep."
Wordlessly, he wrapped a strong arm around her waist and ushered her into the small grey building. She noticed how he was in full protection mode, constantly looking around for any threat. Knowing the full story, she felt like she should be protecting him, not the other way around. But he'd never seemed the slightest bit defenseless and now knowing more about his background, it didn't surprise her that the man was special forces, his confidence made sense.
A short, partially bald man greeted Burke by name and slid some papers across the counter between them. Kendall hated paperwork, but she dutifully showed her ID and signed where they said to sign.
"And that last item you requested," the man said, handing Burke a manila folder before he disappeared into the back room. Burke nodded, took out a stack of papers and flipped to the various tabs, initialing and signing where indicated.
"What's this?" she asked, as he slid the stack to her. Her gaze landed on the big, bold words Prenuptial Agreement.
She picked up the pen, not wanting him to see how those two words affected her. This was a marriage of convenience. Nothing more.
The diamonds in her ring caught the light and sparkled up at her like a mini disco ball.
He was wealthy. Of course he wanted to protect his assets. She initialed several pages, fingers shaking.
"Don't you want to read it over?" he asked.
He'd obviously had the document drafted while he'd been in town yesterday. Or perhaps he just kept a copy laying around in case he decided to get married one weekend.
That thought made her smile, though she wanted to frown. Burke wasn't the type to up and marry on a whim. But as her gaze met his, she realized that's exactly what he was doing.
Did he really want to appease his family that badly? Or was he marrying her because he pitied her? Nibbling her lower lip, she kept her gaze on the signature lines and kept signing.
She wasn't sure she wanted to know his reasons. If they were anything less than what she felt for him...no, she didn't want to know.
"I trust you." She signed her name with a flourish. "And besides. There's nothing I have that you could possibly want."
He stared at her signature for a moment before he nodded. Picking up a pen, he also signed and initialed. Then he tucked two copies back into the folder and left the third.
Ducking quickly, he kissed her cheek. "You look like you're going to a funeral."
"Sorry," she whispered back and pasted a smile on her face.
"Mr. Deveraux, so good to see you again." Kendall glanced past Burke to see a different man, taller with wire-rimmed glasses.
"You work fast," she whispered.
Burke grinned down at her, looking very much like a groom in love. Though she knew he was playing a part, that seemed a little extreme. What would her father care if her husband loved her or not. The only thing he'd care about was not having to feed her.
"I'm a man of action," he murmured back and quickly made introductions.
"I thought you might like a view of the mountains for your nuptials," the Justice of the Peace said, indicating the large picture window on the other side of the office.
Kendall nodded, her smile growing.
"Seems my bride likes the idea," Burke said and ushered her around the counter.
Butterflies took flight in her stomach and continued their frenzy for the next five minutes as they said their vows and then their "I dos." It didn't matter that Burke's warm hands held hers, anchoring her, she felt guilty for lying to a Justice of the Peace and two witnesses. But when it was all said and done and Burke leaned in for a kiss, she met him half way. The witnesses clapped. And when Burke pulled back, smiling down at her, they offered their congratulations. A flash blinded her momentarily and she realized Burke had snuck in a small camera.
"If ya'll will excuse us..." Burke murmured a second before he swept her up into his arms.
"Burke!" The others laughed at her exclamation at her new husband. On the way out the door, someone handed her the folder of prenups. Someone else handed her their wedding certificate. And then the blistering cold enveloped them.
Burke's long legs ate up the distance to his truck and she wished that they were going back to his cabin for a real wedding night. Not just a sham. "We'll try to get a picture sent back to dear old dad."
The reminder that their marriage wasn't real hit her one more time and she bit the inside of her cheek.
You knew what you were signing up for, Kendall. Not love. Not sex. Not happily ever after. A chance for you to get away from your past and for him to find the right person to spend his life with.
Yes, she'd known all that and her heart still didn't want to believe any of it.
"Sounds good," she said, trying to smile. But it didn't sound as good as curling up in his arms.
Not going to happen Kendall, so get over it.
But then she lifted her gaze. There was something in Burke's eyes that stole her breath.
Alarm bells went off in her head as a ping of lust coursed through her veins, urging her to close the distance between them.
Oh hell, this was a losing battle, especially when Burke tightened his grip around her waist.
She used the last card guaranteed to put distance between them. She could be a convenient wife. A placeholder in his life. But she didn't want to make love to him and leave him in a few months time. Her heart wouldn't be able to take it.
"I thought you said I wasn't your type," she murmured and waited for him to set her down. But he didn't. He closed his eyes for a heartbeat. Two. Then he stared down at her again, so much lust and --- dare she hope --- love, in his eyes.
"I lied."
Two of the most beautiful words she'd ever heard.
His head descended and his lips slanted across hers in an honest-to-God kiss that curled her toes inside her boots and set fire to her skin. She tightened her grip on his shoulders, moving her lips against his. Giving. Taking. Utter bliss.
The next thing she knew he'd let her down and pressed her against the side of his truck.
Cold went through her and she shivered.
"I tried to tell myself...we could have a...platonic relationship," he murmured against her lips. Then he trailed his lips down her jaw.
"Platonic?" she chirped. The word wouldn't register in her cold, lust filled brain.
"Just friends. I don't want you like a friend, Kendall." The protrusion between them gave her no doubt he was telling the absolute truth. And after several days of hot and cold, up and down, her emotions came to a head.
"Take me home Burke."
He jerked back and for a moment, he looked vulnerable. To sooth him, she raised up on her tip toes and kissed him firmly on the mouth, letting her tongue sweep inside for a tantalizing tease.
"I don't want you like a friend either," she whispered against his lips.
Confident that the warrior inside him was quieted for the moment, she reached for the door handle.
He trapped her between his body and the truck's interior. She smiled just before his lips met hers. With her powers bound, she could just be human, just like him. She'd never fit in with the coyotes anyway. With Burke...she felt like she belonged.
"Get in the truck," he said, his voice rough and desperate.
Grinning, she scrambled up into the seat. He gave her one last hard kiss before shutting the door and circling the front. Somehow, despite her trembling fingers, she managed to snap her seatbelt and stay rooted to her side of the bench. While she yearned to slide close to him, she knew he'd need to concentrate on the roads.
He didn't waste a second throwing the truck in reverse and backing out of the parking space. Just as quickly, they were tearing along the main drag. She noticed that he didn't slow down as they passed the remains of the tree that had pulverized her car.
He drove past the garage and stopped in front of the cabin. She would have never known there was a driveway underneath all that snow.
"Come here," he said, his voice quiet. They both reached for the seatbelt. She heard the click and then she was in his arms again. Heaven. Pure bliss. He rained kisses across her face and she clung to him, the way she'd been wanting to since the very first...
His hands slid beneath her thick sweater and she shivered against his cool fingertips. "I should get you inside..."
"No complaints here," she whispered, and then nipped his chin.
With a groan, he extracted himself from her arms and opened the door. She was an absolute temptress. He couldn't wait to get her naked.
He wrapped his hands around her hips and helped her out of the truck. For a moment he could do nothing more than stare down into her upturned face. How was it possible to fall so hard, so fast, and say to hell with the consequences?
He'd hide her away forever if he had to. Because one thing he was sure of, he couldn't let anything happen to the woman in his arms. This time, it really would destroy him.
"Well, well, well."
At the foreign voice, Burke turned, shielding Kendall. Muscles tensed, he glared at two short stocky coming men up the drive. Movement to his right drew his attention to another man. "Oh God." The breathless anxiety in Kendall's voice told him all he needed to know. His gaze flicked to their hands for weapons. It was pointless to look for lumps in their clothing since they each wore heavy coats.
Nose in the air, he inhaled. Werecoyotes.
"There were four of them," she whispered against his back.
An ambush. The beast inside rushed forth. He barely managed to keep his claws from extending, but he felt the surge of power. Saw it in their eyes the instant they realized what he was. But they didn't back down.
The missing coyot hopped into the bed of Burke's truck. "Stop whoring yourself and let's go."
"Not a chance, Dirk," Kendall said, her voice hard and unwavering. Burke had never seen this side of her. So strong and capable. He liked it.
The tallest of the four took a menacing step forward, his boots crunching the snow. A sneer curled his lips.
Hands clenching and releasing, he felt the slow sizzle in his blood. The steady thump of his heart delivered adrenaline throughout his body, warming him against the dropping temperature.
The ring leader hopped down from the truck, too close for his comfort level. Burke stared him down as they started to spread out. How dare the bastards terrorize an innocent.
The word rang through his mind like a never ending echo. She stayed huddled close to his side, her hands circling his arm. Human.
He couldn't show his true self.
"You're on private property," Burke said, doubting the coyotes would care.
"And that's my property behind you, wolf." Burke spun around.
A tall thin man with sharp features and eerie eyes stalked up the mountain, the snow seeming to provide no resistance. His long black coat stood out against the brilliant white surroundings.
"Wrong, asshole. She's my wife."
That rocked the bastard back on his heels. But then he dropped his head like a charging bull.
"Wolf?" Kendall whispered.
Burke closed his eyes at the shock in her voice. That split second was just the advantage his enemy needed.
"You mean you didn't know?" the vampire asked as the air around them shifted. Burke opened his eyes as one of the coyotes lunged for Kendall.
Without hesitation, Burke met his opponent, grabbing the asshole by his lapels. He let the momentum continue, turning away from Kendall and tossed the coyot down the mountain. A terrified scream/snarl echoed around them.
The sound was cut short as the little man landed with a thump in a snow dune.
Burke turned back to the others. They looked at their fallen comrade, anger screwing up their faces. Then they glared at Burke, their eyes turning black as they shifted, each growing taller by about a foot. Snarling and snapping, their snouts grew. Sandy blond hair sprouted over their bodies, rippling and replacing their clothes.
"Hide," he told Kendall, his voice low.
"No," she cried and as he turned his head toward her, he saw twin tears slide down her cheeks.
"I'll be fine," he promised, stepping away from her, drawing their attention. Then they attacked.
Kendall froze in terror. They would kill him. In their were form they would be stronger, more agile. While Burke still had at least a foot and fifty pounds on them, fighting in this snow would be like dancing in wet concrete.
Bemis ran at Burke, his paws prancing through the snow. Why did Burke look so composed? Her knees were shaking. Tears froze on her skin.
In the fighting style typical to the coyotes she knew, he leapt into the air, his back paws poised for a powerful kick. But Burke threw a punch, fist crunching against face, sending Bemis backward, ass over tea kettle.
Kendall let out a happy cry. But her joy was short lived. The other two attacked together. Kicking, punching, swirling, snarling. A tornado of arms and legs, fists and paws swirled before her.
She glared at Carl who stood by, nose in the air as if he were watching a bull fight in Spain. "You can stop this," she yelled at him.
He flicked her a glance. Disinterested and colder than the weather. He had to end this, before Burke was hurt. She couldn't live with that.
Carl must have read her mind, the bastard. His thin lips curled upward ever-so-slightly.
She swallowed back bile.
"Are you ready to leave with me then? Stop your useless escapade?" She saw Burke take a kick to the chest, stagger back a step. His coat was ripped from their claws. Pursing her lips, she turned back to Carl knowing what she had to do. The decision she had to make. If he'd call off his goons, leave Burke unharmed, she'd go with him.
She wiped furiously at a tear. Then she nodded.
Carl was at her side in an instant, grabbing her by the arm and turning away from Burke. He dragged her along.
"Wait. Call off the fight."
"Not a chance."
"You promised," she said hotly, tugging away from him. His thin fingers bit through her clothes into her flesh.
"I did no such thing."
She quickly retraced his words. Then swung at him with her free arm, crushing his nose with the side of her fist. Adrenaline surged through her veins and she felt a brief satisfaction as his head popped back and he looked at her in surprise. While she'd always seen her stature as a detriment, finally being tall and athletic made sense. Made her feel powerful.
But the look of fury that replaced his surprise made her take a step back.
"You ungrateful little whore." He grabbed her arms, hauling her inches from his face.
"Your father should have taken a heavier hand to you when you were still trainable." Kendall's gaze dropped to the medallion that had bounced out of his shirt collar in the tussle. The purple stone in the center held her powers.
He narrowed his gaze. "You'll never get them back you know. From now on you're a simple little human."
Simple little human?
A stupid woman would stay in a situation... Burke's words drifted through her mind.
She wasn't stupid.
She was a fighter. A woman in control of her destiny. Not the wallflower Carl expected her to be.
Kendall smiled then. A happy joyous smile. Pieces of the puzzle fell into place.
"Why are you smiling?" Carl asked in his superior way.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Burke break Gent's neck. Three Dirk bodies lay at his feet. She'd been so worried about him minutes ago, but the man was a fighter. It surprised and pleased her that he could take such good care of himself.
As Carl started to follow her gaze she whipped her head forward, smacking her forehead against his bloody nose. A loud crack echoed in her ears before he toppled backward.
Burke materialized at her side, a long, strong leg kicking. His boot landed against Carl's middle sending the man hurtling over the cliff in front of the house. She grabbed Burke's arm to pull him back to safety.
They peered over the edge together, arms around each other. Carl's body landed against a jagged bolder. It was a gruesome sight and yet Kendall's spirits lifted. He was dead, unmoving, his head practically detached from his body. He would never bother her aga---
A loud blast rang across the mountain top. At her side, Burke sucked in a startled breath. As if in slow motion she turned, saw him gaping down at his chest. His knees started to buckle and she used every ounce of her height and strength to push him back away from the edge of the mountain. He landed in a pile of soft snow.
Burke stared up into Kendall's incredible blue eyes, gasping for air. He had to change.
But he couldn't. Wouldn't.
A shadow fell over them. The first sniveling werecoyot he'd sent careening backward peered over her shoulder now.
"Get up." Kendall was right. He did had a pitiful Jersey accent.
When Kendall made no move to rise, the coyot reached for her. "Now bitch."
"You're not taking her so you might as well leave," Burke growled.
"She's not yours to keep, dog."
Burke spared Kendall the briefest of glances. Yes she was. He hoped.
Kendall cried out as the werecoyote grabbed her by the hair and hauled her to her feet.
Tears sprang to her eyes and she kept her gaze focused on Burke as she fought the man holding her. Pain flooded his body, not just from the bullet pressing against his heart, but from the thought that he really could lose her.
That smarmy asshole could drag her down the mountain and he'd never see her again.
He had to. Oh God, he had to.
An incredible roar filled his ears. Blood, terror, a jet plane overhead, he didn't know where the sound came from but the beast inside would no longer be denied. He'd lived a lonely life since Annabelle.
He'd lost her.
He would not lose Kendall. Not now.
The roaring stopped and sounds collided around him. Gin barking. Kendall crying. The wind howling.
We end this, his beast snarled.
Gin leapt through the air, his mouth latching around the coyote's forearm. Burke shifted. A shot ricocheted against a rock behind him.
His muscles rippled, bones popped and he took pleasure at the fear in the coyot's eyes.
Between Gin's grip and the werewolf bearing down on him, the weasel let Kendall go and she fell to the side.
Blocking out everything but his prey, Burke attacked. Viciously.
He was on the coyot a second later, knocking him into the snow as his jaws closed around his throat. He squeezed slowly, feeling the life drain out of the creature beneath him.
Then he gave a quick shake, severing skin, muscle, and tendons.
Covered in blood, Burke collapsed in the snow beside the body. Death had a peculiar scent. He'd lived without it so long he'd forgotten.
Chest heaving, he tried to slow his lungs. Tried to shift back. But the beast resisted, rarely getting to run free. To do the job it was created for. It was not as sure the threat was over.
But Burke pulled back on the leash. His muscles contracted. Bones snapped. Fur disappeared.
Cold and snow bit at him. But, neither the frigid temperature nor the gun shot had hurt as badly as knowing he was about to lose the woman he loved.
She stood but a few steps away, trembling, eyes large. The sheen he saw there made his heart plummet. She was terrified.
He didn't blame her one bit.
Throwing back his head he let out a howl of fury. Not again. He had to send her away.
Far away where no one would harm her. Dammit, he should be able to protect her, but how would he protect her from himself? From what he truly was? Given the option, he'd give up everything for her.
She sank to her knees next to him. Started to reach out. But he stopped her with a shake of his head. "Leave Kendall."
His words sank into her heart like a double-edged knife.
The fantasy she'd built in her head was bursting around her. It didn't matter if the Dirk brothers were dead, if Carl would never bother her again. If...no. It had all been a fantasy. She swallowed back a sob and pursed her lips.
Fresh tears sprang to her eyes and she blinked them back. She had to be strong, not give in to her grief. "Burke...we need to get you inside." He was human again. And naked.
All this time---Damn Carl. She'd been living with a werewolf and not even known it.
And with her powers bound... she stared down at the broad shoulders she'd come to depend on.
He didn't seem to notice the biting cold. If she stood here long enough, perhaps the frigid temperature would freeze her breaking heart and she wouldn't hurt so bad.
She slipped off her coat and draped it over his naked shoulders.
"You knew what they were?" he asked, sounding dazed. His shift should have fixed the bullet wound. But perhaps he had other injuries...that didn't make sense either.
"Of course." The truth would come, but not this instant.
He was silent for a long moment. Fresh tears coursed down her cheeks.
"You should probably be on your way. Those weasels won't bother you again." And just like that the trance was gone and his voice was crystal clear. His eyes stared up into hers. And her heart shattered into a thousand pieces.
How did you think this was going to end, Kendall?
She pulled her shoulders back. At the very, very least he deserved her thanks. And an explanation.
Seems they'd both been keeping some important secrets from each other.
"No. They won't," she said, "But if Carl hired anyone else..." She swallowed back the tendril of fear. It was over. Carl was over. He didn't have the power to hurt her anymore. And it wasn't Burke's responsibility to keep her safe. "At least this time I'll have a head start."
She stood there, feeling very unstable. Her knees felt like they were made of gelatin, not tendon and bones.
"Come on. You're gonna freeze out here."
"Impossible. I'm a werewolf. Or didn't you notice?" He raised his head then and pegged her with look that took her breath away. It was all in his eyes, everything he was feeling: despair, dejection, disgust, anger, hopelessness.
"Of course I noticed," she whispered. That sort of thing was hard to miss. But he'd made up his mind.
"Then why are you not screaming your head off?" His voice was savage. Instinctively, she took a step away from him. He shook his head as if he were disgusted with himself. Then he cleared his throat and stared out at the magnificent valley below. "Just go." She took another step away from him. The fairy tale was dissolving right in front of her.
"Do you mind if I keep the clothes?" she asked, looking away.
She'd hike into town and figure out what to do next. Where had she left her purse?
Berry Blue ultra gloss would be the perfect color for such a gut-wrenching occasion.
He stopped her with a hand on her wrist.
"Where will you go?"
She shrugged.
"As far away from Florida as possible." And you.
"Take the truck."
She almost laughed at his offer, but couldn't find the energy when every ounce of control she possessed was holding back the sobs trying to consume her. How had she managed to get herself shot, rescued, fall in love, married and broken hearted in less than a week? It sounded like a crazy fairy tale. But it was reality. Her life.
"No. Thanks for the offer, though." She shrugged off his grasp and started toward his truck.
Get the purse. Come up with a plan. Get the purse. Come up with a plan. Funny, she hadn't clung to the stupid old bag for the last few days. She'd found something else, some one else, to cling to. And he didn't want her.
Turning back to him. He was so still, his tan skin in stark contrast to the white blanket of snow. The longer it took her to leave the longer he'd be out here in the cold. Wind whipped his long, dark locks around his face. Perhaps it was best not to see his face again.
"One question," she said, hating the way her voice cracked between the words. She'd ask him because she needed to know the answer. And once she knew, she could move on. She would move on.
"Is it because I'm werecoyote?"
"Stay," he said before she'd even finished her question.
Somehow the mountain seemed to go completely still. The wind stopped. The trees paused mid shiver as if awaiting his response. Or hers.
Or maybe it was all a figment of her imagination. Maybe she was dreaming.
"Say that again," they said in unison.
Standing an arm's length away now, she asked her question again, bolstered by his request, demand, call it what you will.
"The reason you want me to leave, is it because I'm a werecoyote?" Burke was off the ground and stalking toward her before she could blink. His towering height didn't intimidate her and she wouldn't have missed the beautiful expression of disbelief and hope on his face. His mouth hung slightly agape. And yet, at the same time she was incredibly nervous. Not two hours ago they'd been married.
To keep Carl away from her.
Carl was dead.
Passion still crackled between them, but she was terrified he'd reject her again. Not today. Or tomorrow. But next week when the adrenaline had worn off and this was all a faint memory. "I'm not really sure how it works with werewolves. I mean I haven't really even dated that much---"
He cupped her face between his hands and slanted his lips across hers, silencing her rambling.
This...this was not a goodbye kiss. Of that much, Kendall was sure.
"I don't want you to leave," he murmured.
"Then why---"
He silenced her with another kiss, his arms tightening around her waist until her bones protested. "I have a rule. No humans. Ever."
The light bulb came on. "And you thought I was human."
"I can't believe you're not."
"Carl bound my powers. I can't shift." Without her powers, without her ability to shift, she was essentially human. Smelled like a human. Her senses had been stripped too. She hadn't been able to sniff out his secret...though there'd been that one time she'd wondered if he was, in fact, a werewolf.
Looks like she'd been right.
She'd been prepared to give up her powers forever so she could remain with him.
Looking at him now--
"I really hate that guy," Burke uttered, kissing his way down her neck.
"Good thing he's dead."
"He'll never bother you again," he said, his voice so fierce she couldn't help the love that blossomed in her heart. He tipped his forehead against hers and for a moment, everything was right with the world.
"If it makes you feel any better, I thought you were human too. I was actually kind of happy I couldn't shift into some freakish monster and scare you away."
"You're not freakish."
"Whatever you say."
If this was a dream, she never wanted to wake up.
"I say kiss me."
"Gladly." She rose up on her tip-toes and met him half way. She couldn't believe it. She was light headed from the ecstasy of being so close to him, inhaling his masculine scent, feeling his hands at her back urging her closer.
Burke could hardly believe he was able to kiss Kendall like this. This past week had felt like a lifetime. He just hoped it was the beginning of the rest of his life.
Her lips were soft beneath his, pliant, welcoming. Arms wrapped around his neck, she clung to him as if she never wanted to let go. That was more than all right by him.
A werecoyote. He could scarcely believe...but it made perfect sense. All her little comments about animals, tails and mating rituals. She'd known what Carl was. And the others. He trailed his lips across her cheek, marveling that she hadn't gone screaming down the mountain when he'd shifted to his were form.
Gently, he flexed his fingers into her hips, assuring himself she was real and this wasn't a magnificent dream. The look on her face was pure adoration, a combination of happiness and hopefulness and love he'd never thought to see again. At least not when a woman looked his way.
She threaded her fingers through his hair and moaned when he dipped his head he nibbled the delicate skin beneath her ear. His lips quested south as his hands slipped beneath the barrier of her clothes.
The tiny little catch in her breath was his undoing. She was so incredibly sexy. And she had no idea. Though he wanted to stay this way forever, slowly making love to her, the wolf inside him demanded more. Now.
He should have known from the first, that first moment he'd glimpsed her hair with those wild colors and that adorable nose, the pleading in her eyes and her husky voice... He'd been a goner.
Right now, he needed to get them out of the cold before his wolf did something crazy, like strip her naked and make love in the snow. As much as the idea appealed to his baser side, his more civilized self had fantasized about undressing her in front of a roaring fire and slowly taking her on a big, cushy bed.
Pulling back a fraction, he severed the kiss and picked her up. This time when she looked up at him, her eyes unfocused, it was because of her desire and not the pain. But ever mindful of her injury, he carried her carefully to the front door.
Kendall giggled, hiding her face against his throat. Damn that felt good. So good he almost missed the single step up to the front porch.
"Care to share with the class," he said.
"I can't believe a naked man is carrying me through the snow. I can't believe you...I can't believe I'm in your arms again." It was a breathy confession filled with wonder. The same wonder that zinged through every vein and nerve ending in his body.
"Get used to it sweetheart. I like the way you feel in my arms." He stopped in front of the door, reality intruding.
"You forgot the keys," she murmured, and kissed his throat. Damn, that did crazy things to his self-control.
"Stay here," he said, letting her down.
"Where else would I go?" she asked, her voice light and teasing as he back tracked to the truck. His keys were right where he'd left them---in the ignition.
After unlocking the front door with a quick flick of the wrist he scooped her up again.
Their lips sought and clung as he carried her across the threshold. Her passionate moans were music to his ears.
With the front door firmly shutting out the world, he managed to lock it before carrying her into the bedroom.
In front of the fireplace, he let her slide down his front.
Eyes alight with lust, she backed up a step and surveyed his body. While he'd had the pleasure of seeing her before, he'd managed to keep his clothes on. As fragile as it was, fabric was still a barrier...and right now there was one less barrier between them.
He resisted the urge to puff up his chest and preen under her gaze. But as her gaze dipped from his shoulders to his chest he found he was almost nervous. He had never been nervous in front of a woman before, which just went to prove how much she meant to him.
He reached for her but she shook her head and made a tsking sound.
Slowly, she circled him, touching him with nothing but a look. But he heard each breath she took, felt the desire rolling off her. He closed his eyes, fighting for control.
"Like what you see?" he finally asked when he couldn't stand the silence any longer.
"Very much."
When she stopped in front of him, her hands smoothed over his chest.
"Never doubt that," she told him. Then she planted a kiss over his heart.
"Kendall-"
' Yes?' She nipped his skin.
"You're playing with fire."
"I know." She gave him a knowing smile. Intentional and lusty.
Her tongue darted out to tease his nipple. The groan that rumbled from his chest didn't seem to startle her because she just grinned up at him. Damn, she was perfect.
Unable to wait a second longer, he reached for the hem of her sweater, tugged it upward. She helped and together they made short work of her thermal wear. When she was at last standing before him in nothing but her underwear and thick wool socks, he didn't think he'd ever seen anything as sexy in all his life.
"Like what you see?" she asked, her finger twisting a strand of her hair around and around.
He took in each of her beautiful curves, the delightful dip of her belly button, the flair of her hips. Just as she'd done to him, he circled her. But he did not keep his hands to himself.
No, he traced a finger around the indention of her waist before splaying his fingers across her belly. "Very much," he said against the side of her neck, then darted his tongue out for a taste.
Heart pounding, he scooped her up into his arms like he had several times before. But this time he was be able to act out his desires. Starting with a kiss.
"Never doubt that." He parroted her words against her lips.
Burke put her down on the edge of the bed and stepped between her legs. She leaned back and her breasts thrust upward. He hardly knew where to start first. She was so delectable, her pale skin so smooth and perfect, he wanted to lick every inch.
He started at her thighs. Running his hands north, watching the progression, his tanned fingers against her creamy skin. She trembled beneath his touch. He'd be lying if he didn't admit he was trembling too.
She nibbled her bottom lip as his hands glided over her hips then zoomed north to cup her breasts.
"You're so beautiful."
When he glanced up he saw tears in her eyes.
"Tell me this is real," she murmured as he wiped a tear from her cheek.
"It's real, chéri," he whispered against her lips.
The emotion of the last few days would not be denied. He wanted her to feel everything he was feeling, know how much he loved her. As she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, opening her lips his cock jerked. She sucked his tongue into the warm, wetness of her mouth, welcoming him in a way no other woman ever had.
One hand propped behind her, he used the other to tweak a nipple through satin fabric.
She arched into his touch but her lips never broke contact from his.
"You won't---" he said against her lips, "be needing this." As sexy as the bra was, it had to go and he made short work of removing the garment.
Mouths mating, he let his hand trail down to the apex of her thighs.
"Or this." He used both hands to rip the baby blue panties from her body. Her gasp made him smile.
He ran the back of his fingers against her pussy, loving the way her hips bucked against him. "Burke," she cried, her voice needy.
"Soon, sweetheart. Soon," he replied, knowing exactly what she needed. He pulled away from her lips to lavish attention on her breasts with the tip of his tongue. Her fingers tightened around his shoulders as breathy little moans rang from her lips.
He let her nipple pop from his mouth and straightened to enjoy the view.
So this is what heaven looked like. A beautiful cherub in his bed, smiling up at him as if he'd just handed her the world. He wanted to. He'd give her anything he could. Right now he wanted to give her pleasure and a happy memory to wipe away the bad ones.
Frowning, he considered her injuries. "How's your shoulder?"
"It's fine...touch me," she pleaded.
He dipped his head again and trailed kisses down her stomach, enjoying the way her muscles went taunt beneath his lips. Trailing kisses down her right thigh, he nipped the side of her knee.
"What do you think?" he asked, sliding a finger inside her sock.
She gave a shaky laugh. "Don't need those either."
With a grin, he tugged them off and then ran his hands over her long, shapely legs. Her skin was silky smooth beneath his fingertips.
"I borrowed your razor," she murmured. "I---hope you don't mind." There was still that little tremor of uncertainty in her voice that made his heart ache.
She really had no clue how special she was, how precious she was to him.
"See that rock on your finger..."
She held up her left hand and studied the blue diamonds.
"It means that you're mine and I'm yours. Therefore, whatever is mine, is also yours." Tears in her eyes, she nodded.
Satisfied that she felt more secure, he licked his way back down her body. Hands on her thighs, he ducked his head and had his first taste of ecstasy.
Her hips tilted and her thighs widened, offering herself to him. The combination of his tongue and a single finger had her writhing atop the mattress. Her fingers fisted in his hair and together they found a slow, smooth rhythm that brought her to the brink of pleasure. Her breathing was harsh, loud in an otherwise quiet room, each strong deep breath moving her whole body.
He licked his lips and smiled up at her. Her blue eyes were bright and dreamy.
"I love the way you taste."
"You're such a tease," she hissed as he flicked his tongue over her clit one more time.
But she was smiling too. Reaching for him as he lay next to her. "You'd better get on top sweetheart," he murmured, knowing it'd be better for her if she controlled the depth and speed of their lovemaking.
She glanced down at his cock and her smile grew. Slowly, she slid a hand across his chest and hooked it behind his neck. She leaned over him, brushing her lips against his and threw a leg over his hips. And she called him a tease.
His eyes rolled back as she slid against his cock, coating him in her warm wetness.
Forward. Back. Forward again. He locked his hands around her hips and kept the delicious motion going.
Kendall laughed down at the man who'd stolen her heart so quickly, so completely.
"How did I get so lucky?" she whispered, leaning forward to nibble his lower lip.
Burke tossed a blanket around her shoulders as he rocked against her. "I've been wondering the same thing, mon amour."
His voice was so quiet, so intense it melted her. "What does that mean?"
"My love."
Kendall stilled and her heart skipped a beat. Until that moment, she hadn't realized that these feelings inside her, the love in her heart, all of it had remained unsaid. Only told through actions, looks, and caresses.
She sat up, taking in every inch of him. The most gorgeous tan skin covered his muscular arms, perfectly sculpted shoulders. He obviously spent many hours in the sun.
Shirtless. And by the look of the hard planes of his chest he was no stranger to physical labor.
A smattering of hair across his lower belly pointed south...as if she needed a reminder that he was all man.
But he was more than his body. When she stared into his incredible eyes, flecked with green and gold in the firelight, she knew that he was her everything. Every single desire she'd held silently in her heart. Kind. Generous. Protective. Demanding and giving.
"I love you Burke Deveraux," she said as she started the slow slide down his magnificent cock. Hands braced against his chest, she made tiny rocking motions as her body stretched to accommodate his size.
"I don't know how I got lucky enough to find you, and I know we haven't known each other long." She dropped her head back and closed her eyes as she settled over him fully.
Huge. Thick. And perfect for her. Opening her eyes again, she smiled down at him, her heart so full she thought she might burst.
"But I love you."
"Music to my ears." He rolled them over, settling between her legs. "I think I've loved you since the moment I saw you stuck in that snow dune and you begged me not to let Carl-the-creep find you."
Kendall wrapped her legs around his hips, loving the way his weight pressed her into the soft mattress. He was real. Not a dream. Not a figment of her imagination. But a real flesh and blood man who knew just how to please her.
"I'm glad you're a man of your word."
She cupped his handsome face between her hands and opened herself to his powerful thrusts. He kissed her sweetly, gently, belying his strength and power. Then he nuzzled her throat. The whisper of five o'clock shadow grazing her skin gave her delicious chill bumps.
"I hate the circumstances that brought us together," he murmured, glancing at her injured shoulder. It hadn't ached in a while but his concern endeared him to her that much more. Between the bath, the rest, Burke's care and the adrenaline rush on the mountain, she'd been healing well.
He trailed a hand down her side and gripped her hip, shifting the angle of penetration ever so slightly.
"I wouldn't change them," she whispered back. Indeed she would not. She'd go through all the pain, the fear, the anxiety again if it meant ending up with this incredible man.
Arms bracketed around her, his muscles trembled beneath her fingertips. How he managed to hold off his orgasm she didn't know. But as he moved inside her, her pleasure built. He dropped his shoulders and delicious sensations swept through her as his chest brushed against her erect nipples. The feel of his pelvis grinding against hers was like nothing she'd ever known. A perfect motion, a dance made for the two of them, choreographed to their favorite song.
The friction built to the point where she thought she would surely go mad if he didn't make her come. Release was so close she could almost reach out and grab it.
As if sensing her raw desperation, he slipped a hand between and circled her clit with the tip of his finger. Once. Twice. A deep thrust at a sharper angle and her world shattered.
He groaned, long and deep, his head falling back. Panting, her lips curved upward.
Delicious. Absolutely delicious.
The next morning Kendall clung to her dreams, not wanting them to end. She was comfortable in a way she'd never before experienced. Warm and secure. Burke smelled so...
good. Earthy, with a hint of fabric softener and snow.
Why was he petting her? Never mind. It didn't matter. Dreams were the one place she could relax and enjoy herself...and Burke.
But this felt so...real. The bed, soft beneath her, and warm sunlight on her face. His hand raking through her fur.
Fur? Kendall cracked an eye open.
"Morning, beautiful."
Burke rose from the bed. "Run with me," he said, pulling his sweater over his head.
Even half asleep, she could appreciate the taunt muscles of his chest as he unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged it over his massive shoulders.
Run with---her gaze narrowed on the dusty brown paw on the sheet in front of her. She crossed her eyes. Ohmygod, she had a snout.
Alarmed, she jerked her head up and stared down at her fur-covered legs. This could not be happening. Not now.
As if sensing her disgust, he reached out and stroked her head. Oh, that felt good. Then he cupped her face as he had many times before.
"You're beautiful," he assured her in that voice that broached no arguments. "In any form."
She was a freak of nature.
Then you're a beautiful freak of nature.
Startled at his voice rumbling through her head, she sat up so quickly she almost lost her balance.
"Yes, I can read your thoughts, my lovely mate."
Mate? Had he really said mate? Kendall sucked in a sharp, shuddering breath.
Don't worry, mon amour. It's not as scary as it sounds. Unless you want to be rid of me, and in that case---
No. Never rid of you.
Then run with me.
Kendall craned her neck again to look down at her furry forearms and paws. How---
"I destroyed the medallion this morning after I buried the bodies," he said.
In the snow? Wasn't the ground frozen?
"A little. Nothing I couldn't handle."
For the first time in a week, her shoulder didn't ache and her body, every last cell, felt at peace. She dared another glance at Burke.
He was shucking his pants.
When you say mated...
"I mean you're stuck with me forever." He paused, giving her a steady look, almost as if he was waiting for her reaction. Then he tugged off a sock and gave her a smile that made her tail twitch. "Come on belle, I'll race you to the top of the mountain." With that, he tugged off his other sock and stepped to the door. He shot her a hot look as she jumped down from the bed. She paused to admire his incredible body, so big and masculine, hardly able to comprehend the latest turn of events. Almost unwilling to trust her happiness.
But as Burke stepped out into the cold, his body shifting to that of a big gray wolf, she trotted after him. Her mate, the most handsome wolf she'd ever seen.
He waited for her at the edge of the deck, surveying the thick blanket of snow in the same way a lion surveys his kingdom. She supposed it was an accurate description. Burke said he owned this half of the mountain. What a wonderful place to run. To be free. To breathe.
She stopped next to him, her paws sinking into the snow. The cold bit at the fleshy pads of her feet but she ignored the sensation. Burke looked down at her and once again, she felt small and feminine. She relished the feeling and the warm look in his incredible brown-green eyes. Eyes she recognized so easily.
If she couldn't believe in happiness, at least she could believe in Burke.
That afternoon, Burke hovered in the bathroom doorway, watching the beauty sleeping in his bed. Idly, he rubbed the mate-mark that rested on his skin directly above his heart. The organ swelled as he watched her stretch, curl around his pillow, and fall back into a peaceful sleep.
He couldn't wait to run with her again. The thought of spring excited him, knowing they'd be able to run for hours without worrying about cold and snow. Luckily the power had come back on while they'd been frolicking on the mountain.
When the phone lines were restored he'd call Laurent and tell him the good news. His brother would probably demand proof of Kendall's existence since Burke had been so adamant against finding a mate. But sometimes the fates worked in mysterious ways. And sometimes, you just didn't get a choice in matters. Especially matters of the heart.
His gaze drifted to the nightstand. He hadn't had a choice in loving Annabelle all those years ago. Just like his relationship with her, his relationship with Kendall had stormed his heart, stolen his breath. After all the pain and suffering in his world, Annabelle's smile had healed him. But her disgust had almost destroyed him.
He crept across the floor and pulled open the bottom drawer, pushed the contents aside and pulled up on the false bottom revealing an old oil painting. Unlike Kendall, Annabelle had been brunette and shy. He traced her jaw-line with the tip of his finger. The reminder he'd kept all these years had lost its significance in the last few days. He'd been sure he would never follow his heart again, find love.
"She's beautiful." Kendall's quiet voice made him look up.
He started to explain, but her look of love and acceptance stalled his words. Instead he simply nodded and gazed back down at the painting.
"Who was she?"
He cleared his throat. "Her name was Annabelle." He wasn't sure what else to add.
"She broke your heart," Kendall said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
At the time, all those years ago, seeing her face pinched up with repulsion, he hadn't been so much heartbroken as disgusted with himself. And then, after her death, that's when his heart had shattered.
"That's all in the past," he said, finally believing the words his brother had uttered so many times.
"Are you sure?" she asked, no censure in her words. Nevertheless, the question shocked him. "What do you mean?"
She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and tugged the blanket around her nude body. Glancing down at the painting, her nose scrunched with thought. "From the moment I met you, you had this intensity about you. I think it goes deeper than heartbreak. And the fact that you're holding a painting rather than a photograph tells me that whatever it is that's eating you alive happened a really long time ago."
Kendall's gaze flicked from the portrait back to his face.
He sighed. She saw too much.
"They killed her." His words took him back to that night. Her screams rang in his mind.
He hadn't been able to save her.
"Who did?"
"My uncle. And my grandfather. It was my fault."
Kendall scooted to the floor and wrapped her arms around him.
"If I hadn't shown myself---to her..."
"You wanted her to accept you. That's understandable."
"She was terrified. She told her family. Word spread to my uncle...I should have kept that part of me locked away."
"And deny your true self?"
"Isn't that what you've been doing?" he asked.
Yesterday his words would have pulverized her heart. But today she knew better than to let a harsh sentence destroy what they had together. His revelation let her understand him better, the way he understood her.
"You're right. I was hiding. In plain sight, I suppose. But you noticed me. And I told myself that with my powers bound, I could be human. I could say goodbye to that part of myself and never look back. And I would have gladly done it. I'm not saying I was right. It's just...my heart hurts when I think of you denying the incredible man you are. Man. Wolf.
Were...I love all of you."
He tipped his forehead against hers and sighed her name.
"For what it's worth, I don't think history is going to repeat itself. You already know I love you and your tail."
The beast inside him growled with pleasure.
Her features softened and he exhaled a breath. She was right of course. She hadn't looked at him in horror. The opposite in fact.
He helped her to her feet and then strode to the fireplace, looking down at the portrait one last time. Kendall shuffled up beside him and rubbed a reassuring hand down his back.
Perhaps he should have done this a long time ago.
He dropped the painting onto the fire.
They stood shoulder to shoulder and watched it burn. "It's been a busy few days," he said. "Think I could use a vacation."
She laughed and leaned into him. "I thought you were on vacation."
"I was supposed to be. Then this beautiful blonde almost ran me off a mountain." She gave a feminine grunt and bumped her hip against his. Needing to be closer, he slid an arm around her waist and tugged her around until they were chest to chest.
"What do you think? Should we keep your cell phone number as it is?" Her eyes searched his. "You don't want to go back to the bayou?" He looked around the large room. "I like it right here. How about you?" She licked her lips as she stared at his chest.
He cupped her cheeks between his hands. "It's okay if you don't. We can live anywhere you want. I'm loaded, remember?" he teased.
She lifted solemn blue eyes to his. "I'm afraid I've been walking around here for days imagining what it would be like if this was our house, wishing I never had to leave." Her confession was the last puzzle piece falling into place and the final salve to his soul.
He gave her his most wolfish grin and scooped her up.
"Then it's time we christened every room, Mrs. Deveraux." He carried her into the living room and settled them on the couch. Thanks to the electricity coming back on, the rest of the house was toasty warm. But he'd started a fire in the large fireplace at the end of the room, knowing how much Kendall enjoyed the crackle-pop of a roaring blaze.
"I think this is a good place to start, how about you?" With her legs across his lap, he kissed her. Caressed her skin. Tickled behind her knees.
She fell backwards. Playfully kicking, she attempted to fight him off. But he grinned down at her, not one to be dissuaded from his target. He loved to hear her laugh. And if hearing it meant he had to tickle her all day, he would.
Grabbing her ankles, he held her steady. Legs in the air, Kendall giggled as Burke rained kisses along the back of her knee. As he worked his way up to her ankle he knew, without the shadow of a doubt, that his demons were gone. Settled. In the past forevermore.
And that he would love this woman, this little werecoyote, for the rest of his life. And he would never tire of hearing her giggle like that.
She looked up at him, her hair fanned over the sofa, her body partially draped with a blanket, hiding some of his favorite bits. When she smiled he knew he was her whole world, his heart squeezed.
The sound of a door unlocking was like ice water dousing his shoulders. Her legs dropped across his lap and she sat up.
"Burke?" Laurent's voice bounced off the wooden walls.
Two seconds later Laurent, Violet, André and Juliette came to an abrupt halt on the other side of the great room, their gazes focused on the woman next to him.
Nothing killed an erection faster than family barging in unannounced.
All four of them wore matching astonished expressions. Juliette, cultured and regal as ever, spoke first. "Hi... We," she glanced at André, "tried to call."
"As did I. Phones have been out since I arrived. Power too, for the most part." Kendall shifted on the couch, curling against his side.
"Is he here? He'd better be here. Where's the bathroom?" Amanda's voice rang through the entryway.
Burke chuckled and wrapped an arm around Kendall. "Well, you wanted to meet my family," he whispered against her temple before kissing her.
"Good God, Burke. Put that away," Amanda's declaration was punctuated by hot pink cheeks. She covered her eyes.
"The powder room's that way, chéri," he said, pointing to the door behind her.
Sebastian, Jules and Angelica joined the crowd.
"Thank heavens," Amanda muttered, turning.
"I, um, I should put some clothes on," Kendall said.
"I rather like you just the way you are," Burke told her, loving that she blushed.
Why are you blushing, petit? You haven't been the least bit concerned about your lack of clothing in the past twenty-four hours.
Her lips twitched as she rose, tucking the blanket around her. Head up, she darted to the bedroom.
Burke could sense his family's curiosity. "I'll make the introductions when we're all dressed." He stood, not bothering to hide his nudity. "Make yourselves at home." Kendall was jerking on her clothes when he stepped into the bedroom.
"Hey," he murmured, pulling her against him. "I'm sorry they interrupted us."
"It's okay. Really. No harm. No foul."
"You don't seem okay, chéri."
"I'm---"
"Remember what I said about forever?" She looked panic stricken. "I meant it. And as soon as we can sneak away, I plan on finishing what we started." With that, he reached for the folder of prenups and held them up for her to see. Her eyes went wide as he tossed them onto the fire.
As quick as the panic had filled her eyes, it was gone and she sagged against him. He kissed her lips and took a step back.
"Let's get dressed before you seduce me again."
Burke pulled a pair of well-worn jeans up over his hips and zipped them. Kendall smiled at him, that combination of happy and naughty making him want to forget about the company in the next room.
"Stop looking at me like that, petit."
"Not a chance, stud-muffin."
Burke laughed as he shrugged into a T-shirt. She dug two tubes of lip gloss from her purse and studied the labels.
"What colors are you trying to decide between today?" he murmured, wanting to kiss the corner of her delectable mouth.
She handed him the hot pink first. "Tickled Pink?" He was grinning when she handed him the other one.
Squinting, he read the tiny print. "Perfectly Nude?" Laughing, she grabbed the tube and darted away before he could stop her. Oh, she'd pay for putting that thought into his head. He'd get her perfectly nude; then he really would tickle her pink.
From the sound of the snickers coming from the living room, the others had read his lusty thoughts. Smiling, he tugged a sweater over his head as he made his way to the door.
When she finished slathering on the gloss, he tucked her against his side and he stepped into the great room.
His family, his pack, had settled in, filling most of the furniture in the large room.
"This is Kendall...my wife." Eight pairs of eyes instantly dropped to Kendall's left hand.
Juliette and Violet understood the ways of their world. But for Angelica and Amanda, he added, "my mate."
"Finally."
"Congratulations."
"Thank God."
"About time," André added to the chorus of well wishes. Juliette sat on the couch next to him, snuggled close.
"Ready for this? There might be a quiz later," Burke murmured to Kendall and everyone laughed. "Over here we've got Violet and my brother Laurent." Violet sat in Laurent's lap in one of the club chairs by the fireplace. "Amanda's the one pacing in front of the window over there. And that guy hovering over her is her husband Sebastian. That's Juliette and André on the couch. And this youngster here is Jules and his fiancé Angelica. But we call her Angel."
"Whew. Okay, Violet. Laurent. Amanda and Sebastian," Kendall said, glancing again at each couple. "Juliette and André and Jules and Angel. I think I've got it. At least for the next two minutes."
Everyone laughed again. Burke knew that Kendall would charm them, just as she'd charmed him.
"Welcome to the -- who who hee," Amanda paused mid sentence to exhale loudly.
"Family," she finished with a pinched smile.
Ever attentive, Sebastian was at her side in an instant, rubbing his hands over her back.
He helped her to a chair.
"How did you two meet?" Laurent asked.
"It's a long story," Burke answered.
"Not that long," Kendall replied with a smile.
"Great. Now will someone go get that mammoth turkey out of the car?" Amanda said, rubbing her back.
André and Jules jumped to do her bidding.
"How'd you guys get here, anyway?" Burke asked, looking at Amanda's swollen belly.
Was she bigger than the last time he'd seen her?
"We---took a train," Amanda said, teeth gritted, her blue eyes sparkling.
"A train?" Kendall said, her gaze meeting Burkes.
Amanda nodded.
"Can I get anyone anything?" Burke asked. "I guess we should go ahead and start dinner. I can hear stomachs growling."
Angel laughed.
A moment later, Jules and André carried a huge cooler into the kitchen. "I hope you have space for this beast, cousin."
Frowning, Burke strode over to the kitchen. They flipped open the lid and he saw a massive turkey stuffed in between blocks of dry ice. His gaze swerved to Amanda's and then Kendall's.
"What is it?" she asked with the shy grin he loved so much.
"That, my dear, is a twenty five pound turkey. Just in time for Thanksgiving." Amanda turned in her seat. "I assumed you'd be alone and I didn't want all that meat going to waste.
So Sebastian said we could bring it with us."
Burke laughed. He opened the freezer and took out a dozen steaks. Kendall appeared at his side and helped him move meatballs and bags of chili onto the counter.
I'm so glad you know...now I don't have to hide my appetite anymore.
For a moment he felt a pang of regret that she'd not been eating her fill lately. But that was all going to change.
It's all right. She put a hand on his arm and smiled.
Behind them, André and Jules wrestled the turkey into the freezer.
"We'll get you something yummy for Thanksgiving," he murmured and then gave her a quick kiss.
But with their excellent hearing, the other men in the room turned and looked at him.
"Something else?" Laurent asked.
"Kendall's vegetarian," Burke said. He felt the weight of everyone's gaze but he was not going to back down. He thought it rather cute that a werecoyote was a vegetarian.
"What do you eat for Thanksgiving?" Amanda asked, clearly worried.
"Tofurkey," Kendall said simply.
The groans and outcries made Burke laugh.
Don't listen to them, my love. You can eat whatever makes you happy. He pulled her into his arms and devoured her lips.
Behind him, someone cleared their throat. "Do you want us to start dinner without you?" Juliette asked.
He turned and saw her raised eyebrow. The others had gathered around the enormous island.
"I think since you all interrupted our honeymoon, I'm going to take you up on that offer."
Kendall started to protest. In the end, he caved. Everyone helped, even Amanda. Violet made her amazing biscuits -- great gram's recipe of course. Sebastian grilled the steaks.
Kendall made a salad. Jules reheated the homemade chili. Juliette and Angel made cookies.
André and Laurent played sous-chef. And Burke watched everyone, his heart swelling with love and pride. He'd known that this house would be perfect for the pack. It was as large and roomy as the valley it overlooked.
His pack didn't waste a minute getting to know Kendall. And as he met his brother's gaze he knew that Laurent was just as taken with her as he was. She was the missing puzzle piece. The last thread that sewed up their pack. They shared a smile.
After dinner and the long version of how Burke and Kendall met, they moved back to the living room. Burke was glad that Kendall fit so seamlessly into the Deveraux family.
"Three blondes and two brunettes," Jules said, as the men stood next to the fire, watching the women accept Kendall into the pack, pink hair and all. "We know how to pick
'em." "Agreed," André said and they clanked beer bottles together.
"How'd you get in, anyway?" Burke asked. He glanced at his brother as he took a swig of beer.
"You left your keys in the lock, mon frère. Getting sloppy, yeah?"
"Distracted," Burke said, his gaze once again zeroing in on Kendall.
Amanda and Angel continued to pepper her with questions. She didn't hide her past.
And the shadows that had once made her brilliant eyes dim were gone.
"Nothing will bring a family together like a bébé," Sebastian said, obviously full of pride. Angel and Kendall each had a hand on Amanda's belly and the five of them giggled as Kendall exclaimed "he kicked me!"
Burke couldn't remember being happier than he was at this moment nor could he erase the goofy grin from his face. Their family, their circle, was finally complete.
Years ago they'd made a pact. To start a new life. A better life. Free of the destructive emotions, fighting and pain. They'd vowed never to return to France, to never allow the people in their past to haunt their future. And now, all the years of pain and angst, gone. And in front of them, a lifetime of children and happy memories. The Deveraux men would allow nothing less.
As the women discussed baby names, André turned to Burke. "I guess you didn't need any help finding your mate, after all."
Before he could answer, a familiar voice filled the room. "I wouldn't be so sure about that."
The women gasped and turned toward the gray haired woman standing in the foyer.
"Marie?" Kendall said, shock and confusion filling her voice.
Burke glanced between his wife and the woman he'd known so many years ago.
"Mother?" Sebastian, Jules and André parroted. Their voices held the same note of shock that zinged through Burke.
"I see everything is as it should be." Marie Bernard-Deveraux smiled as she surveyed the room.
"What are you doing here?" Sebastian demanded, striding across the room to put himself between the pack and his mother. He looked every bit the Alpha he was. Tall, broad, shoulders back, muscles twitching with tension. He was, without a doubt, ready for a fight.
She glanced at each of their mates, starting with Juliette, her gaze studying them quickly but thoroughly. Burke didn't miss the way André covertly checked the windows and doorways. Nor did he blame him for not trusting the woman who'd caused them so much pain in the past.
If she was expecting a warmer welcome...
"I have a gift. For you and Jules."
"We don't need anything from you."
"No. I don't suppose you do. But you'll want this." She closed her eyes and tipped her head back. Amanda gasped and Sebastian pivoted. As she placed a hand over her heart he turned back to his mother, his body shifting to his were form.
Then Angel clutched her chest. "Ouch."
"Sebastian, wait," Jules called as he knelt before his fiancé.
"What the---" Angel ground out.
"I've given them my immortality."
Sebastian slowly shifted back, his clothes in tatters.
Marie glanced up at her oldest son, her gray eyes full of anguish. "I was trapped in a loveless life. I felt so much pain, endured so much anguish. I never wanted that for you boys, but I know I caused it...And I lost you. Helping the five of you find your mates was the one thing I've done right in my life."
She began to dissolve, like paint in water.
"The flowers," Amanda said, her voice full of awe. "You sent me the flowers. We always wondered..."
Marie nodded, tears in her eyes. "Take good care of him," she told her. "He was always too uptight. Too responsible."
Amanda, one hand on her belly, the other over her heart, nodded and her eyes glistened with tears.
"You told Angelica's old boyfriend where to find her?" Jules declared.
"I might have mentioned that you and André were the best trackers in the country," Marie said.
"You hired her to kill me," Laurent added, glancing at Violet. The look of love that traveled between them was almost tangible.
"I knew she wouldn't be able to. She just needed to find you again, Laurent," Marie said, her smile trembling.
"You encouraged me to come back to the states," Juliette said.
"He needed you and you needed him. It was finally time to let the past be the past," Marie said, almost invisible now.
All eyes turned from her to Kendall. "You told me I'd find safety on the mountain road." Kendall's gaze met his and she smiled. It was a brilliant smile of a woman in love; so happy, it left Burke more than a little choked up. I found more than that. I found love.
His mate was right. They'd all found love. In a roundabout way. Marie Bernard-Deveraux had played matchmaker to the sons and nephews who'd shunned her.
Each of their women turned misty eyes back to Marie. But she was gone. No more than a memory now. The room was tomb quiet save for the crackling fire. Burke glanced from Sebastian to Jules, then turned to André.
It was a long time before anyone spoke. Jules tugged at the cowl neckline of Angel's sweater to examine the mate-mark. As if sensing he needed reassurance, Amanda stood and wrapped her arms around Sebastian's waist. He squeezed her until she squeaked out a protest.
The gravity of the moment settled around Kendall like a heavy blanket. She'd only known them a short while, but she already knew the Deverauxs to be caring, independent people. And just like she, they each had endured a dark past.
She swallowed back the tumultuous emotions and gave Violet a shaky smile. It was hard to fathom that the kind old woman who'd told her to take the mountain road to safety was now gone. Had vanished...evaporated before her eyes.
Amanda finally broke the silence with her sweet southern drawl. "She had a hand in all of it." Sebastian sank onto the ottoman behind the couch and pulled her into his lap.
Feeling shell-shocked, Kendall got to her feet and sought Burke's gaze. "Would you like me to help you get the guest rooms ready? I'm afraid we didn't know we were having company," she said apologetically.
Angel piped up. "Let Jules and I do that while you get to know the family."
"Are you sure?" Burke asked.
"We'll find everything we need, cousin. We're just glad you're okay," Jules said as he helped Angel up.
Burke reached for Kendall and she went willingly into his arms.
"Aren't you going to let me hug my new sister-in-law," Laurent asked. His teasing lightened the mood.
Burke grunted as he stepped back. Laurent was smiling as he enveloped her in his arms.
"Thanks for making my brother so happy," he whispered.
Squeezing her eyes shut against the sudden rush of tears, Kendall whispered back,
"thank you for keeping him alive so I could find him." Later that night when the house was silent, Burke was once again wrapped in Kendall's arms. She'd awoken him with a kiss, her body recovered from another round of lovemaking. It amazed him that she wanted him so much. That she gave herself so freely.
In the firelight, he stared into her eyes. They didn't need words. Only a look. A touch.
She trailed a fingertip down his jaw and then raised her lips to his. He took what she was offering. Then he gave it back.
Her legs wrapped around his hips and she opened herself to him. Silently, she accepted his weight, a serene smile gracing her lips. He ducked his head to taste them.
When he was sheathed inside her, he felt as if he'd finally made it home. And as he started to move, and saw the look in her eyes, he knew his home was where she was.
Today, tomorrow, and every day after. So long as she loved him, he would be a happy man.
"Faster," she whispered. He picked up the pace a fraction. But he wanted to take things slow. This was a facet to their lovemaking he hadn't experienced yet and he wanted to enjoy each...thrust.
Her inner muscles gripped him tighter and he moaned.
He would never take the sweet slide in and out of her incredible body for granted. He would never take her for granted.
Somehow he'd gotten lucky a second time. This time he would protect his love. Nourish it. Revel in it.
Wrapping himself around her, he buried his face in the fan of her hair.
She sighed in his ear, her arms draped around him. With her powers returned, she was stronger. But just as passionate. He marveled at the way her hips met his.
"Burke..." she said, breathless. "I want to feel you---closer."
"Closer?"
He looked down at her and saw the incredible smile curving her lips. Withdrawing from her took all his will power. He placed a kiss on her belly as he backed up.
She flipped over and got on her hands and knees. With her hair draped over one shoulder, she glanced back at him. It was a submissive pose, one that sent shivers through him. His wolf let out a yip as he slid his palms over her hips.
Inhaling her delicate scent, he curled his body over her and entered her from behind.
Together, as one, they sighed their pleasure. For a moment, he didn't move. Didn't want to disturb the feeling of rightness washing through him.
Kendall rolled her hips in a tiny circle that got his attention. Arms braced on either side of her, he rocked forward, thrusting as far as he could. She let out a hoarse cry and tossed her head back.
Her skin glowed in the firelight. How had he---what had he done to be so blessed?
Dipping his head, he rained kisses over her shoulder.
Not breaking the rhythm, he made love to her, his mate, his wife. Together, they spiraled toward pleasure. The orgasm gripping him didn't want to wait. The wolf inside him did not want to wait. His teeth grew and his jaw popped.
Mark her, his wolf demanded.
Claim her, his were added.
He reached around and stroked her clit. Her hips jerked back against his, forcing him deeper inside her body.
Grazing his teeth over his shoulder, he waited for the perfect moment. She whimpered as he helped build her orgasm. It didn't take long before her body was gripping his cock like a vise. He groaned and sank his teeth into her flesh, marking her, claiming her.
You're mine.
And you're mine.
Forever.
Forever, she agreed.
His orgasm hit him, and every muscle in his body went tight and still as he released inside her. Beneath him, Kendall cried out, her back arching. Between the two of them, the pleasure went on and on. He never knew it could be like this. That he could feel this complete.
Drained, he licked the bite he'd left and slowly withdrew his cock. His beautiful little mate promptly collapsed onto the bed. When he pulled her to his side she was still smiling even as she was falling asleep. He kissed her nose, settling in for another nap, knowing that before the night was over, they'd probably reach for each other again.
Burke shuffled into the kitchen late the next morning. Jules and André were already at the table, wolfing down a hearty breakfast.
"We're takin' the girls to the slopes this mornin'. You wanna go?" André asked.
The lure of the pure white mountains in the distance was strong. But not as strong as his desire to get back to bed.
"Maybe later." The glance they shared said they knew exactly why he didn't want to leave the cabin and that they didn't blame him.
"Well, we're off to buy more baby clothes," Amanda called from the entry way. Burke turned to see Sebastian helping her with her gloves. Their Alpha didn't seem quite as enthusiastic as his mate.
André and Jules chuckled as if they'd escaped such trying duties.
"You're time will come," Sebastian declared on the way out the door.
That sobered his cousins up real fast.
Burke laughed.
According to André, Laurent had borrowed the truck to take Violet shopping for cold weather gear. It wasn't long before the others piled into his Land Rover. Burke knew the other men felt bad about interrupting his alone time with Kendall. He had no doubt that they would make themselves scarce over the next few days.
"Looks like you're stuck with me for the day," Kendall said, hugging him from behind as he waved them off.
"You don't mind being stranded with a Cajun werewolf?" he asked, pulling her to his side. She shut the front door. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she gazed up adoringly at him. "There's nowhere I'd rather be."
The End
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Author Bio
An action movie buff with a penchant for all things supernatural and sexy, Selena Blake combines her love for adventure, travel and romance into steamy paranormal romance.
Selena's books have been called "a steamy escape" and have appeared on bestseller lists, been nominated for awards, and won contests. When she's not writing you can find her by the pool soaking up some sun, day dreaming about new characters, and watching the cabana boy (aka her muse), Derek. Fan mail keeps her going when the diet soda wears off so write to her at
Visit her online at http://www.selenablake.com or if you're on Facebook, become a fan at
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Surprising Darcy
Available now
"I should have brought birthday cake," Aiden called.
"No, you shouldn't have," she called back as she jerked the thong up her legs and over her hips.
"A great bottle of wine will have to do then," he said as he placed the goblets on her side table. She heard the soft strain of jazz in the air as she stepped into her bedroom and let the giddiness rush through her. Damn, it felt like her first time. Only better. It always did with him.
"I did manage to scrounge up some cheese and pâté." He gave her a grin that should have been illegal. "Or maybe I should just forget about the food and have you for a snack." Two steps and they were toe to toe.
He'd discarded his jacket and tie. The top button of his shirt was open, giving her a tantalizing view. She'd kiss that spot later.
"You're so soft," he murmured, running his hand down her back to cup her ass.
"And you're so hard." He had tucked his cock back into his slacks, but she could still feel it. With shaking hands she reached up to undo the rest of his shirt buttons.
"It's all your fault, gorgeous." What was? She stared at him, frowning. Oh, yeah. Him being hard.
"When are you going to tell me what my surprise is?" She put on her cutest pouty face.
With the last four buttons undone, he stepped back.
"Not yet. You're so cute when you beg though." He handed her a glass of Merlot and held the other to his lips.
"Is that right?" She savored the fruity taste and then crawled onto the bed. "Maybe I should beg a little more."
"Maybe you should." He held a pâté covered cracker between them. She took it between her teeth and waited for him to do the same.
The cracker crumbled between them, melting on her tongue. She savored the flavors and the look in his eyes. He made her feel beautiful, desirable. She smiled at him and he smiled back.
Together they finished off the cheese and crackers. Aiden refilled her goblet and then approached the edge of the bed.
"Here's the first part of your surprise." He let a black blindfold dangle from his fingers.
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