Rogue Wolf (10 page)

Period.

Her wolf was still in her eyes. Yeah, she didn’t believe her either.

Laptop in one hand and her duffel full of dirty clothes in the other, Margo took the stairs two at a time. The scent of hot food had her stomach rumbling. She bypassed the kitchen to the laundry room. Dumping everything she had with her sans the clothes she wore into the washer, she got it started. One positive aspect of the delay while other Enforcers gathered information and continued their investigation was the opportunity to clean her clothes.

She found Salvatore in the kitchen. A large tray of Salisbury steaks smothered in brown gravy along with mashed potatoes and corn awaited. Mouth salivating, she didn’t bother to demur her attraction for the food. Salvatore stood, awaiting her, with his hands on a chair.

“You’re an odd duck,” she told him, placing her laptop to the right of her plate before accepting the seat. Having him at her back wasn’t the wisest decision, but he’d done as she asked earlier. He hadn’t interfered with the familial ambush.

“I’m not a duck at all.” A mild amount of outrage echoed in his tone. He eased her chair forward before opening a bottle of wine.

“None for me,” she said when he would have poured her a glass. “I don’t like wine. And I’m working.”

“You’re a wolf. Wine doesn’t muddy your ability to think or work.” He set her glass to her left and smiled. “Red is appropriate for this meal, I believe, though I’ve never had a Salisbury steak. It reminds me of some dishes from home, and reds are good with those.”

After pouring his own glass, he took a seat then offered the first serving of the meat. Narrowing her gaze, she frowned. “You’re being awfully solicitous. What do you want?”

“I’m being polite,” he corrected. Although his tone was gentle, she didn’t miss the gruff edge of reprimand. “We have had a long day. I suspect your day has been longer than you have indicated.”

“My apologies.” She hated admitting wrongdoing, a personal flaw leftover from her youth. By the time her dominance truly began to assert itself, she had already developed a bad habit of running other wolves over to get what she wanted. Few could stand up to her—certainly not her parents—so it had fallen to a family friend and the pack’s attorney. “I am not that accustomed to eating with others.” The lame excuse didn’t quite work as an explanation.

Instead of challenging her statement, however, Salvatore inclined his head. “Apologies accepted. Let’s eat, then discuss how we will do this.”

They took turns serving themselves. The steaks were an old favorite of hers, one she didn’t get to indulge in that often since she spent most of her time on the road. Though Salvatore mentioned discussing their hunt, neither said a word through the first several bites. When he lifted his glass, she paused and raised her brows.

“To new alliances and ventures,” he began. “I am honored by your assistance.”

Reason had her hesitating to raise her glass. “I cannot toast to new alliances.”

Lowering his glass a fraction, he studied her. “Why not?”

“The law precludes the formation of alliances and ties for Lone Wolves.”

His frown deepened. “I do not understand this Lone Wolf nonsense. Wolves are pack animals. We need the ties and bonds of pack. It is in our nature. You cannot create a law that says a wolf cannot seek sanctuary or affection with another wolf. It would be akin to telling a grape it is not allowed to ripen into wine. You can waste the time on the effort, but grapes still ripen.”

“Unless they’re plucked and eaten beforehand, they are a fruit.” Better to keep it light, no matter how irritating she found his words. She took another bite of steak and added some mashed potatoes to it, then mixed in some corn. Eating all three together reminded her she was home. Maybe she wasn’t sitting at her parents’ table and having dinner with them, but she was in Willow Bend. Odd, the small town life hadn’t been for her when she lived here as a child. She appreciated the closeness, the ties to neighbors, friends and community.

She also understood the level of involvement, and general nosiness where privacy didn’t really exist.

“Whether they are ripened to wine or plucked for fruit, they are still living to their purpose. The pack is a fundamental necessity, a primal one. We are human, but we are also animal. The man—or the woman—may wish for isolation. The wolf cannot thrive under those circumstances.” He eyed her. “So I will toast to new alliances, for you and me.”

How the hell did he make that sound appealing? “You may toast whatever you wish, Salvatore. We cannot have an alliance between us.”

Annoyance flashed in his eyes, and she took a sip of wine rather than examining the visceral thrill provoking his temper aroused. “They’re words, Margo. For better or worse, you and I are going to be working together.
That
makes this an alliance. Are you telling me you’re forbidden from working with other wolves? With sharing meals? With taking a lover? With generally sharing a cup of coffee? If so, you’ve already failed. You’ve spent the day with me.”

Closing her eyes, she counted to ten. Then to twenty. When she hit fifty, she opened them and glared at the wolf. “Pissing me off will not get me to agree with you.” Proud of the calmness in her voice, she took her time with another few bites before continuing. The weight of his stare pummeled her, but she refused to be cowed by the Alpha’s strength. “We have laws for a reason, laws the packs all agreed to because they protected all of us, both those in the packs and those who choose to go packless. Temporary situations are fine. Enforcers have to pool information, but we are rarely in the same place at the same time. Yes, wolves need ties. Some of us need them far looser than others because, make no mistake, a tie is simply another word for leash.”

No one had her leash nor would she ever allow one on her again. Freedom tasted too sweet.

Shaking his head slowly, Salvatore set his glass down. “You Americans are too obsessed with your labels. You are a wolf, Margo, and you can tell yourself every day you are independent and free, and you would still be a wolf. You would still need the warmth of a pack. Perhaps you’re comfortable with denying the need. More power to you if you believe you can exist that way, but all you have is existence, not a life.”

Their conversation trod over dangerous ground. “Who the fuck are you to judge me?” Despite her promise to keep it civil, she glared at the wolf across the table. “You don’t get to show up here and start making decisions about what is or isn’t good for me or any other wolf here. You want to lord over your pack, knock your ass out. In fact, please, go back to Italy and lay down the facts for your wolves. My
life
is just fine the way it is.”

“If it were so fine the way it is,” he said, the timbre of his voice dipping. “You would not be so angry over the challenge that it isn’t.”

“Fuck you.” She spat the words, to hell with the consequences. “I’m not playing this game with you.”

The corners of his mouth curved. His scent darkened, a heady combination of male wolf and hot sunshine. Her wolf rose within her, even as her nostrils flared. Too close to him, she couldn’t miss the distinct notes of arousal and interest beneath the temper she’d just poked with a stick.

“Not the word we agreed on,
bella
.” Dangerous words. The challenge lay wide open between them and Margo forced herself to push her chair away from the table.

“I’m done.” She had only eaten about half the food, but lingering any longer with him would end up threatening her life or her sanity—because she’d kill him.

Grabbing her laptop, she strode from the room, but his chair scraped backwards and suddenly he was in front of her. Holy fuck, he was fast. Her wolf’s hackles went up and Margo braced. The laptop was a favorite, but she’d put a dent in it if she used it crack his arrogant skull open.

“You are not done with your meal.” Inflexible will glowed in his wolf’s eyes. The palpable force rippling the air around him threatened to choke her on his scent. Torn between wanting to roll against him and slugging him, she fought the desire to lower her eyes.

“Maybe not.” She raised her chin. “But I am done with you and this conversation. You’re a job, Esposito. That’s it. Now get the hell out of my face.”

The challenge slammed into the space between them.

If stillness were a thing, Salvatore would have embodied it fully. Nothing about him moved, not his nostrils, not his muscles—he might as well have turned to stone. The heat of his glare scorched her, and her anger turned up the furnace on her desire. He was tough enough to back her down. The realization should have scared her, but her muscles clenched in anticipation.

Invading her space utterly, he held her gaze. She couldn’t look away if she wanted and, God knew, she didn’t want to.

Breath warm on her lips he said, “No.” Then his mouth slammed onto hers and the laptop hit the floor.

Forgotten.

Chapter Six

The moment his lips settled against hers, Salvatore realized his mistake. He’d intended to chastise her wild wolf, bring it into line. Free or not, blatantly challenging a more powerful wolf could get her killed. A tough, fast lesson turned devastating to his senses at his first sweet taste of her. Heat blazed through him as her mouth opened. Daring her teeth, he stroked his tongue along hers. Cupping her chin in his hand had been an act to keep her from escaping, one rapidly escalating to much more as he savored the smoothness of her skin. The growl reverberating in her throat wasn’t one of rejection.

She scraped her teeth over his lower lip. He tilted his head, changing the angle of the kiss to delve deeper in a demand for her to join him in the play. Her gasp stroked his pride, and her claws threatened his arms when she gripped his biceps. Threatened, but she never sank them into him. Craving her acquiescence, he tangled their tongues together—a battle for supremacy as she tried to change the nature of the kiss.

Backing her into the wall, he half-lifted her until he was her only support, him and the fusion of their mouths.

Hitching her thighs to his hips, she sank her fingers into his hair and fisted it. Her actions provided the answer he needed. She wanted him, too.

Need surged through him, riding the electricity of the kiss. Freeing one of her hands from his hair, he pinned the wrist to the wall. The second pulled out some of his hair when he tugged it away, yet the pain both amplified the primitive need consuming him and brought clarity.

Locking her hands together, he raised his head and gazed at her flushed cheeks. Her golden eyes held a sensual intensity and the drum of her heart matched his. Her soft breasts pressed against his chest while the muscles in her legs clenched where they fastened around his waist. The heat at the cradle of her legs beckoned to him and he considered the myriad of ways he could rip her clothes out of the way. Giving in to the need to plunder and sate the beast was a provocative idea.

With a growl, she flexed her muscles and her thighs tightened, dragging him closer. Keeping her wrists captive took strength, but then so did her effort to kiss him yet she still managed to catch his mouth. Hunger speared through him and his wolf swept forward. It wanted a taste of this fierce woman. He sank his teeth into her lip, just enough to draw blood, and then lapped at the injury. Keeping her wrists pinned with one hand, he glided his fingers down her arm to her chest then squeezed one breast. The nipple peaked beneath her shirt as though eager for his caress.

Drunk on her arousal or not, he had to end their little
bacio
. Lust punched him and the violent pulse of her heart rate at the juncture of her throat and shoulder beckoned. He wanted to flip her around, press her face to the wall and satisfy this battle of wills once and for all. One intense, furious fuck to ease them both, but the time spent traveling, his worry for his sister, and the irritation at being in another’s territory coupled with her blatant challenge made it more about power than pleasure.

Exactly why he refused to proceed. Margo’s eyelids dipped. Dominant or not, her animal rode her brutally and her need cried out for him to pleasure her until they were both blind from it. But that was their animals. The woman would be far more elusive, and it wasn’t the wolf who needed the lesson.

Summoning his will, he pulled his mouth from hers. With great care, he touched his tongue to the tip of her nose then marked a line upward. She shuddered. Touch starved—a distant part of his brain recognized the symptoms. A wolf too long away from others, too focused on keeping her distance, and she hurt from it. Fury at her foolishness collided with his very real need to take care of her. He nuzzled a path across her eyelids then to her cheek. Nibbling tiny kisses against her jaw, he continued to massage her breast—the action equal parts erotic and comforting. Hell rained on his control as he kept his lust in check. Her wolf needed the contact and, if he were a gambling man, he would say the woman did as well.

Catching her earlobe between his teeth, he gave it a light tug. Her gasps turned to a gentle moan and he wanted to savage something. Fucking her was out of the question, no matter how hard his cock became or how sweet the scent of her passion. Forcing his hand from her breast, he stroked down her stomach then beneath the shirt.

Skin-on-skin was always better. Massaging the taut plane of muscle, he continued to trace the whorls of her ear with his tongue. The arch of her hips ground her pelvis to his and he bit her, not cruel enough to break skin but enough for her to feel his teeth. Dispensing with the button on her jeans, he eased the zipper down then dipped his hand beneath, past the elastic band of her panties. He found her sex, warm and wet with sweet ambrosia, waiting for him.

Releasing her ear, he lifted his head and met her gaze as he slid a finger along the seam of her labia. Her lips parted, and her eyes went glassy.

“Too long,
bella
,” he told her, wanting to rail at her for letting herself get into such a state. But he could combine the lesson with a little pleasure, as well as easing the hunger tearing her apart. He could do that much for her.