Heart of the wolf (22 page)

Sarah studied him for a long time in silence. "I need to tell you about the phone call I got, Wolf."

Wolf took the washcloth and pressed it to his swollen cheek. He heard guilt in Sarah's voice. "What call?"

Rubbing her brow, she rattled, "The phone rang, and I picked it up. A man on the other end said, 'You're dead.'"

Wolf scowled, and it hurt. "Sarah—"

"I know, I know. I should have told you." She reached out and touched his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Wolf. I thought it was just one more of
Summers's
harassment tricks to scare me off. Oh, God, if I'd thought he was going to have his men jump you at my cabin, I'd have told you—I was trying to keep you out of it!"

Wolf awkwardly patted her hand. "It's all right," he told her in a gravelly voice. "We'll get through this."

Sarah stared down at him, tears in her eyes. "Why are you doing this for me?"

He shrugged. "Maybe I'm doing it for a couple of reasons. One of them is guilt. Every night, I see the faces of those who died in Peru. There isn't anything I don't remember about the massacre at the village, Sarah." He was loath to give voice to the other reason: He cared about Sarah—one hell of a lot. He'd been given a second chance to rectify his poor choices in Peru. He found it shocking that Sarah hadn't condemned him for his failures. Instead, she seemed to take hope as never before. He knew he couldn't divulge how he felt about her.

"It must be a living hell for you."

"We all live in a hell of some sort," he muttered.

Sarah said nothing, realizing Wolf was living with one of the worst emotions she could name—guilt. "It wasn't your fault that it happened, you know," she finally said.

"What?"

"Maria's rape."

Wolf shook his head. "Sarah, I'll go to my grave being sorry about that—for being stupid enough to be tricked by Ramirez into leaving her unprotected. Hell, I left the whole village wide open for a second attack."

"Still," Sarah said softly, "with time, some of the pain will dull. At least that's what everyone tells me about Dad's death." She rubbed the area where her heart lay. "It felt pretty raw in here, until I cried in your arms last night. . . ."

"At least you cried," Wolf whispered huskily. "That's a good sign the healing process is going on. While I was recuperating in the hospital, I started doing some investigation on rape and what it does to a person's head and emotions. I had to try and understand Maria's actions toward me.
If I'd known then what I know now, I would have gotten her to a therapist in the nearest city.
She needed help, and so did I."

"But you didn't know how to help her," Sarah said, feeling deeply for Wolf. "That's not your fault."

He rallied beneath her warm blue gaze, which was sparkling with unshed tears. How easily touched Sarah was beneath that tough shell she wore to defend her own fragile, wounded emotions. "No, I didn't know," he agreed heavily. "But—" he tendered
her an
intense look "—I do know now, and that's why I'm treating you the way I do. You're a victim of violence, too. And you need time to heal. I was never able to help Maria. All I did was
make
things worse for her, and what we shared between us died."

Sarah didn't have the words to help Wolf. Gently she steered him to another topic. "You said there were a couple of reasons for helping me. What's the second one?"

Wolf wrung out the cloth and placed it back against his cheek. If he told Sarah the truth—how much she touched him, made him feel alive again—she might run. Or, worse, tell him to go away, as Maria had. Clearing his throat, he said, "I've always had a place in my heart for underdogs." Wolf glanced up to see what affect his words had on her. Her young face was so grave and serious.

"There isn't a woman alive who isn't an underdog," Sarah said. She'd finished cleaning up his face, and now she treated his scraped, bloodied hands. Her own hands shook slightly as she dressed his wounds, her mouth a tight line, as if she were trying to stop herself from crying. Her reaction moved Wolf deeply.

"Well, we'll see if I can help even out this situation. I don't know if the men who hit me at your cabin were
Summers's
men—"

"They're
Summers's
men, all right," Sarah gritted out, washing her hands off in the sink and putting the bandages away. "That's how they work. They sneak up behind you, and they always work in pairs or a trio."

Wolf's face was aching like hell. "There's some aspirin in there, Sarah," he said, indicating the medicine cabinet. "Get me a couple of tablets?"

"Sure." She glanced down at Wolf's features. They looked washed out beneath the harsh glare. It was nearly 10:00 p.m., and he was exhausted. She handed him the aspirin and a glass of water.

"You have to report this to Sheriff Noonan. Tomorrow morning."

Wolf choked down the bitter-tasting tablets and finished off the water. He handed her the glass and thanked her.
"First things first.
I'm going over to the hospital emergency room tomorrow morning to find out if any of those jokers went over there. I know for sure I busted one guy's nose, and I'm pretty positive I heard the jaw of a second one crack. They'll need
X
rays and medical help, and the hospital's the only place around here to get them. When I've got their names, I'll start an investigation on my own, before I go to Noonan."

Sarah winced. "Sounds like you gave them worse than you got," she said, pride seeping into her voice.

"We'll see," Wolf rasped. "Look, I need to lie down."

"Yes, you do.
On
your
bed."
Sarah gave him a hard look. "And don't argue with me, Wolf. Ever since you started sleeping on that couch, you've had circles under your eyes."

Wolf slowly rose to his full height. How beautiful and defiant Sarah looked in her cotton nightgown and robe, her silky golden hair like a cloud around her shoulders. He longed to lose himself in those wide blue eyes.

"No, Sarah, I'll be fine out on the—"

"Damn you!" Sarah grated out. "Don't you dare argue with me, Wolf
Harding!
" She grabbed him by the arm and used all her strength to haul him out of the bathroom and toward the bedroom.

Wolf gripped her arm and gently drew her to a halt. "Now listen. . ." he rasped in the darkness of the hall, wildly aware of how close she stood to him
. "
You sleep on the bed. No argument, Sarah. Your feet are still healing up."

"I thought I was stubborn, but you're worse than I am! I refuse to sleep in your bed tonight!" She jerked out of his grasp and spun around to head for the living room and claim the couch before he could.

His patience thinning, Wolf gripped her shoulder. "All right," he muttered, "we'll both sleep in my bed. Now come on."

Gasping, Sarah was propelled ahead of him into the bedroom. "Wolf, this is ridiculous! I—"

He shut the bedroom door with finality and stared at her through the gloom. The defiance in her eyes made him want to smile, but his face hurt too much for him to attempt it. "Relax, will you? We both need a good night's sleep. I'll be damned if you're going to sleep on that rickety old couch."

Sarah's eyes widened as Wolf stripped out of his blood-spattered green
shirt,
then pulled his white T-shirt over his head. Her mouth went dry, and her heart started to leap and flutter. The sight of Wolf's powerful chest made her take a step back, but when Wolf turned, she saw a huge black bruise midway down
on
the right side of his back and gave a low cry of alarm.

Wolf froze at the sound of Sarah's cry. Before he could turn to see what had upset her, he felt the coolness of her hands against his back.

"What happened here, Wolf? Look at this. Look at this! It's awful!"

He stood very still, a groan threatening to rip out of him. Sarah's hands fluttered like a butterfly around the injury. She placed one hand flat against his rib cage beneath his right arm. The other gently touched the bruised area.

"I got hit from behind. The bastard tried to take me out with a kidney punch."

Biting down hard on her lower lip, Sarah explored the bruise. "It's so swollen, Wolf. You ought to go to the hospital. Really, this looks bad. . . ."

Wolf turned and gently placed his arm around her small shoulders, drawing her in front of him. The genuine concern in her eyes melted him, and he ached to cup her small face and kiss those delicate lips.

"Honey," he rasped, "I'll be all right. Just you touching me made the pain less." Without thinking, because Sarah invited his tender side, Wolf grazed her deeply flushed cheek with his lips. Her skin was as firm and soft as a ripe peach. "Look, let's get some sleep. I'm about ready to fall over." The statement was a blatant lie now that Sarah was standing so close to him. Wolf tried to separate right from wrong. She was so damned enticing, yet he saw fear lurking in the recesses of her eyes. He didn't want to hurt Sarah as he'd unthinkingly hurt Maria. He removed his arm from her shoulder.

"Come on," he coaxed huskily. "You get in bed and turn your back to me. You'll be safe, understand?"

Swallowing, Sarah nodded, her cheek tingling where his lips had brushed it. The burning fire in his hooded eyes made her ache with a longing she'd never experienced in her life. Confused she whispered, "Sure. . ." Turning away from him, she did exactly as he asked and took one side of the bed. She pulled the sheet up to her waist, her back to him.

Sarah lay there, hearing Wolf's clothing drop to the floor beside the bed. She swallowed again, convulsively, unable to contain her vivid imagination, raging over the image of what it would be like to be pulled into Wolf's powerful arms in passion rather than comfort. He could crush
her,
he was so large in comparison to her. Yet his touch was always gossamer, painfully arousing her needs as a woman.

When the bed sagged and creaked beneath his weight, Sarah stiffened momentarily. And then she relaxed as he spread his weight out across the mattress, leaving plenty of room between them.

Wolf pulled the sheet up across his hip to his waist. He couldn't lie on his right side, his normal side to sleep on, because of the bruised kidney. Instead, he had to lie on his left side, facing Sarah's back. Just the way her golden hair lay in silky abandonment made him
want
to reach out and thread his fingers through it. Her cotton nightgown was cut low in the back and revealed her long, deeply indented spine. Wolf ached to reach out and pull her against him. He could almost feel her small breasts against his chest, the light warmth of her breath caressing his neck, her hands wrapping around his waist. . .

Wolf awoke with a start, bathed in sweat. Disoriented momentarily, the sudden movement making his body ache, he opened his eyes and blinked away the perspiration. The room, his bedroom, was washed by the early- morning light. His nostrils flaring, he inhaled sharply, a new and unfamiliar scent surrounding him like the caress of a lover.

His muddled senses sharpened, became focused. The scent, delicate and sweet, drifted toward him again. He inhaled deeply, and old, painful memories stirred to life. Then Wolf realized with a start that Sarah lay curled up next to him. Her small hand was pressed against his naked chest, as was her brow. He lay very still, not daring to move, not daring to breathe.