Read Spirit of the Wolf Online

Authors: Vonna Harper

Tags: #Man-Woman Relationships, #Ranchers, #Paranormal, #General, #Romance, #Erotic Fiction, #Erotica, #Fiction, #Love Stories

Spirit of the Wolf (6 page)

BOOK: Spirit of the Wolf
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And to her, too, she amended as the slideshow continued. The seventeen-inch screen allowed for too much detail. Yesterday she’d looked down at what a wolf pack had done to a living creature. Today reality was being played out in close-up.
“The sheriff said he was satisfied with what I sent him. I haven’t heard back from Fish and Wildlife. They might want more.”
“They’re not going to get the carcass, are they?” The calf shots were over and had been replaced by telling paw prints visible despite the surrounding weeds. “I mean, Beale buried the calf, right?”
“Yeah.”
Matt still wasn’t looking at her, and his hands were beneath the table where she couldn’t see them.
“Then there’s not much point in them going there.” She pointed at the screen. “Besides, I’d think that what’s important is learning where the pack is now, not where it was.”
Matt gave no indication he agreed or disagreed. When he leaned forward a little, she noted the tight tendons at the sides of his neck. Not giving herself time to question what she was doing, she started massaging them. A sigh rolled out of him only to end abruptly as if he regretted letting her know how he reacted.
Touching him to comfort instead of excite was a new experience. Instead of pressing the heels of her hands against the base of his neck as she would have done in the past, she lightly ran her fingertips into his hair. She tried to keep her touch firm enough that she didn’t risk tickling him.
“Not a good idea, Cat,” he muttered.
Instead of heeding him, she leaned into him so the back of his head touched her middle. “I can’t help myself.”
“The hell you can’t. You know exactly what you do to me.”
She slid her hands around his neck and touched her thumbs to his windpipe. She’d never try to cut off his ability to breathe. Quite the opposite—feeling him swallow let her tell herself they were sharing something.
Can we take another run at it?
she wanted to say.
Put part of yesterday behind us and go back to what’s been good between us. Maybe see if we can reach deeper, touch deeper.
His long, strong shudder reminded her of a horse about to buck. Confused and a little hurt, she settled her arms by her sides. “Sorry,” she muttered.
“So am I.” He rubbed his forehead, didn’t look back at her. “Here’s where I started placing my hand beside the prints for size comparison.”
Hating the effort needed to do anything, she blinked and concentrated. After a half-dozen shots, she concluded that wolves of different sizes had been responsible. Matt’s hand was longer than any of the prints. She wasn’t sure about the width, but what struck her was how easily she could distinguish the rear pad from the toes. The claw marks seemed small until she reminded herself that a wolf’s deadliest weapon was its fangs.
“That’s remarkable,” she said. “Maybe I shouldn’t think that, but seeing proof of the animal that’s the object of so much controversy in this country thrills me.”
“Hmm.”
Touching the mouse, Matt stopped the slideshow.
“That’s it?” she asked as she again locked onto his unmistakable tension. “I thought you took some out near that sagebrush just before you turned around. Maybe they didn’t turn out.”
“They did.”
With his tone warning her to wait, she wrapped her hands around her elbows.
“Those wolves were walking,” he said. “When they run, their tracks become larger because the foot spreads, elongating the toes and widening the pads.”
“How do you know that?”
The chair protesting, he swung around so he now looked up at her. Despite the difference in their height because she was standing, she felt his greater size. His hands gripped the armrest, turning his knuckles white.
“I did a lot of online research last night. When I wasn’t dreaming.”
Don’t ask me about the dream,
his eyes said, so she didn’t. As long as he kept that to himself, she wouldn’t mention waking drenched in sweat with her hands between her legs and her taut nipples aching.
“I don’t blame you,” she said lamely. “No matter what they did to your livestock, wolves are fascinating creatures.”
“Are they?”
She wasn’t going to get in an argument with him. Neither was she going to give in to the impulse to try to smooth away the new deep lines between his eyes. Maybe he knew what she was thinking and had decided to push her limits, because he closed his hands around her hips and drew her toward him with hands that trembled.
“What?” Letting go of her elbows, she impulsively gripped his shoulders. Bone and muscle capable of riding a Brahma bull spoke to her and nearly allowed her to dismiss his mood. Then his gaze met hers and she knew that wasn’t going to happen.
“What?” she repeated.
“The pictures—there’s two more.”
Going by his tone, she sensed she wouldn’t want to study them, but if Matt could take them, she could study.
“That’s why you came here, isn’t it? You wanted to watch my reaction to the last ones.”
“It’s more than that.”
6
 
I
nstead of prodding Matt to continue, Cat worked her fingers under his shirt. Life and energy and something she couldn’t define met her. Then his hands went to her buttocks, and he pulled her close and nothing else mattered.
Dragging her attention off his features, she studied the growing bulge between his legs. As if triggered by it, her breasts pressed against her bra—the one that replaced the one he’d destroyed.
Although he remained sitting, she didn’t trust him. Didn’t know this man with his leathered body and darkening—yes, darkening—eyes.
She wasn’t going to tell him he was scaring her. A woman who’d weathered high-country winters could stand on her own. However, storms and vulnerable horses weren’t the same as strange wild vibrations from a masculine body.
Somewhere deep inside was the truth of him, the reason for the recent changes in his personality, an explanation for the dusky shadows seeming to surround him.
Maybe there was only one way to get to the core.
The teenage girls she’d agreed to work with wouldn’t be here for several hours, which meant it was just her and Matt until his world interrupted them.
Hot friction along her thighs drew her attention there. He was rubbing her legs—hadn’t he done the same yesterday? She must have slid even closer because her legs now rested between his with her knees pressing against the chair seat.
Saying nothing, certainly not asking permission, he unsnapped her jeans. Answering his silence with her own, she dug her nails into his shoulders. Next came her zipper, followed by tugging her jeans over her hips. When she lifted her head from her study of what he was doing, she found herself looking into eyes devoid of emotion.
Of humanness.
Take the risk. Wrap yourself around what he offers. And maybe in the doing, understand.
Exhaustion closed in on her until she lacked the strength to continue holding on to him. Leaving her hands to drape uselessly over his shoulders, she again watched what he was doing. Stray dogs were a fact of ranch life. Some were frightened, others aggressive. She’d been able to approach several, while others ignored her crooning voice and offered food. Matt might get mad if she told him she was comparing him to one of those creatures, but right now he seemed more like them than a man.
All except for his cock.
And muscles.
And the hands gliding over her newly naked flesh.
“This is what brought you here?” She couldn’t get her voice above a whisper.
“No.” Despite his closed mouth, she could tell he was clenching his teeth. “I told myself I wouldn’t let this happen.”
“Not working so well, is it?”
“You could stop me.”
“Don’t throw responsibility in my lap,” she snapped. The instant the words were out, she forgave him. Maybe she shouldn’t, but with his hands touching what needed to be touched, did she have a choice?
Looking down, she noted the contrast between his tanned hands and her pale belly. After that first night with him, she’d debated shaving her pubic hair—something she’d never done before—but it seemed like too much work. Besides, how much more exposed did she dare allow herself to become?
“Is this to distract me?” she managed. “A way to put off letting me see those last two pictures?”
“Let?
Make
is more like it.” When he gave his head a weary shake, she wished she could tell him this wasn’t necessary. She didn’t need to see the shots; there was no need for him to put himself through some emotional wringer she didn’t understand.
Curiosity and more kept her silent.
He sighed. “You’re right. I can’t put off the inevitable. Your safety . . . Hell, I don’t know what I’m saying.”
Safety? “Show me,” she ordered.
Looking trapped, he swiveled away from her and rested his hand on the mouse. She hooked her thumb over her waistband but didn’t pull it up. As she’d done earlier, she looked over his shoulder.
If it wasn’t for the layer of dust over the rocks, Matt might have missed the second-to-last paw print. At first there didn’t seem to be anything unusual about it, but as he’d done with earlier shots, Matt had placed his hand next to what a wolf had left behind.
She couldn’t keep her mouth closed, couldn’t think how to do anything except breathe. Even that took effort.
“Ready for the last one?”
His voice had a disembodied quality to it, as if he’d distanced himself from this moment.
“No. Yes.”
Color and definition blinked out and were replaced by another paw scene. This time the wolf—wolf?—had stepped on dried grass and flattened it. Matt’s hand, slightly blurred as if he’d been shaking when the picture was taken, was to the track’s left.
“I don’t know what to say,” she managed. No longer simply holding on to her jeans, she gripped them so tight her fingers protested.
“I didn’t think you would.”
Comprehend or not, she couldn’t deny that the last two shots highlighted a
wolf
print at least twice as large as the earlier ones. Claw marks bit deeper into the ground, and pads left distinct impressions as proof of greater weight. Disbelief and denial warred inside her, but this was no joke, no illusion.
“Now do you understand why I needed to share this in person?”
“What . . . what did the sheriff say?”
“I didn’t send them to him.”
“What? Why not?”
“Neither have they gone to Fish and Wildlife.”
She’d been too shocked to pay attention to his tone. Now she was calming down a bit, either that or resigning herself to the unbelievable. There was no emotion in his voice, nothing to indicate his underpinnings had been rocked the way hers had.
Bottom line, while trying to determine where the wolf pack had gone, Matt had come across the prints of a monster-sized predator. This couldn’t be. There was no way in hell the prints should exist or make any kind of sense.
And yet . . .
She was having trouble breathing. In contrast, Matt, who had turned toward her, was locked away emotionally. At the same time, something in his eyes made her take a backward step.
“Where are you going?” he asked in that dead voice.
“Nowhere. Just . . .” She started to pull up her jeans. “I was startled, that’s all.”
“Hmm.”
She hated trying to put a label on what was in his eyes, but lying to herself might be more dangerous than facing the truth. Okay, so maybe she was delusional; she wanted to be. But if that wasn’t a predatory glare, she didn’t know what one was.
Having her waistband back up where it was designed to be restored her self-confidence. A little. But what about the glare, the sense that he wanted to attack her?
“Matt?” Hoping to pull him back to reality, if he’d indeed distanced himself from it, she’d deliberately spoken his name. Hopefully patting his cheek would speed the journey. “Why haven’t the sheriff and government officials seen those? Did you think they won’t believe you?”
He gave no indication he heard, prompting her to slide back a few more inches. “They won’t conclude you’re trying to pull a joke on them. This is much too serious for . . . You didn’t, did you?”
Please let the too-big prints be a hoax.
“No.”
“Good.”
He was getting to his feet. Behind him, a paw print filled her monitor. Her office was small with barely enough room for two people to be in it at the same time. Yes, that’s what she’d do, walk out of the cramped space and into the larger living room where they’d discuss . . . Hell, what could they possibly talk about?
“Don’t.”
She hadn’t started for the other room, but maybe he’d sensed what she had in mind because his hands shot out, clamped on to her still-unzipped jeans, and hauled her to him. Her fingers fisted, she aimed them at his chest, only to stop. She wouldn’t hit him, not yet, not until—
“What the hell is this about?” She glared at his hold on her. “Damn it, Matt. You came to show me those pictures, not . . . What’s going on?”
He glanced over his shoulder at the paw print. When he faced her, the lack of expression had been replaced by an intensity that made her think of a hunter stalking prey.
Was the hunter human or animal?
“Putting your hand next to the prints shook you, didn’t it?”
Instead of answering, he yanked on her jeans and forced her against his hard and ready cock. She barely had time to start to lift her arms, which meant her forearms were now trapped against his chest. His right arm clamped around her waist. They were too close for her to aim a knee at his groin, something she’d never imagined ever doing.
“I want you to let me go.” She aimed for the tone she used to get a horse’s attention. “I have students coming in a few minutes. They—”
“The hell you do.”
Despite his grip, she managed to free her right arm, only to wonder what good it was now over her head. She tried to grab his hair but failed.
“I’m not lying. I do have students coming.”
“But not for a while.”
Had she told him about today’s schedule? How could she expect clarity as long as his powerful arms all but chained her to him? This close together, his features had blurred. She wondered if his view of her was the same, or if he cared.
“I’m not going to fight you or try to get away,” she said, not sure she was telling the truth. “We need to talk, Matt. About the oversized prints and your reaction to . . . What’s happening isn’t normal.” She struggled. “You know it isn’t.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
She couldn’t remember when touching his cock hadn’t caused her heart to hammer and her temperature to raise. Right now was different from anything she’d ever experienced, a lifetime away from the man / woman relationship that had kept her in a nearly perpetual state of arousal, and yet . . .
Damn it, and yet the woman in her was responding to the male in him.
Hoping that reacting as she had in the past might make an impression on him, she rubbed her belly against him. Her arm was still above her head. Any other time she would have laughed and called for a strategic realignment of body parts.
This wasn’t any other time.
“I’m all for spontaneity,” she said. “You know I am. A quickie behind or in the barn, maybe in your truck bed—you’ve caught me off guard; that’s the problem.”
“Be quiet.”
This wasn’t happening, absolutely couldn’t be. “What’s going on inside you, Matt?”
“I . . . don’t know.”
He’d spoken so softly she wasn’t sure she’d heard correctly. She was far from the world’s most intuitive when it came to understanding people, but she’d always been able to key in to horses. Now she used that skill to decide what to do next. Contrary to what a lot of people thought, horses were complex creatures. Some responded to a firm hand while others needed a gentle touch. Matt’s hold bordered on the painful. She could either treat like with like or let him believe he held the upper hand.
He does. Don’t ever for a minute forget that.
“I’m glad I was there yesterday.” She smiled to reinforce her soft words. “Even with the gore and death, the experience was unique, life in the raw. I’d hate to have missed it. What about you? I imagine you—”
“You don’t know anything about me!” Even before the words were finished, he shoved her away. She slammed into a wall.
Stunned, she straightened, whirled, and bolted for the doorway. Where the hell was her cell phone?
He caught her from behind, circling her waist with both arms and effortlessly pinning hers to her sides. Grunting, he lifted her off her feet. She kicked back at him. Her boot glanced off his leg. Despite her struggles, he easily carried her to the couch and threw her facedown onto it. She tried to plant her hands on the couch in preparation for pushing off it only to have him snag her wrists and pull her arms behind her.
“You don’t want to be doing this, damn it! Goddamn, you don’t!”
For all she knew, he didn’t hear a word. Bending her elbows, he pulled her arms higher on her back, crossing her wrists over each other as he did. He released her, but before freedom registered, he closed one large hand over her wrists and anchored them.
She’d landed with her face on the couch. Desperate for breath, she turned her head to the side. She couldn’t make out his features, not that she wanted to. What if the look in his eyes was inhuman? Driven by the possibility, she fought to free her wrists. Damn his strength!
“Don’t force yourself on me, Matt,” she hissed. “I’ll never forgive you if you do. It’ll be the end of everything between us.”
Always before all it had taken was a cautioning word from her and his handling of her gentled. This time, however, there was no apology, no asking what she wanted from him. Nothing of the Matt she thought she knew.
BOOK: Spirit of the Wolf
6.69Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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