Taming the Lone Wolff (11 page)

He sucked in a sharp breath as his sex hardened. Pulling her close, he whispered in her ear. “I don’t like it when you’re quiet. I need to know what you’re thinking.”

“I’m thinking you know way too much about women.” Her body leaned into his, trusting, fluid.

His chuckle was ragged. “I don’t know the first damn thing about you, my dear virginal Winnie. Except the fact that you have a heart as big as Texas and you’re stubborn.”

“Pot…kettle. And I’m not a virgin.”

“I may be stubborn—true—but I know innocence when I see it. I believe you. But there’s far more to chastity than a technicality. Has any man ever gotten close to you?” He rested his chin on top of her head, wanting to take down her hair and run his fingers through it.

She shivered. He felt it. And his gut clenched. Someone had hurt this brave, delicate woman. Badly. He didn’t know how he knew, but he did.

“I retract my question, Winnie. You’ll tell me when you’re ready. But for now, I need this.”

She looked up at him, her green-gold eyes clouded with arousal. “This?”

“This.” He lowered his head slowly, trying to rein in the thundering locomotive that was his libido. First he kissed her forehead, then her small, perfect nose. Skipping lush, moist lips, he tilted her head to one side and raked his teeth down her neck, nipping and licking until Winnie squirmed and panted.

“We’re still in the dining room,” she muttered. “Someone could walk in.” The need to feel her hands on his bare skin drew a groan from deep inside him. Larkin was losing it. He could tell. And Winnie was right. This was not the place or the time. “Winnie,” he croaked. “Are you willing to go to my bedroom? Now?”

She froze, her cheek against his shoulder. “I do want you, Larkin,” she whispered. “More than you know. But I need to be sure. Sure that I won’t regret this. You do something to me I don’t even understand.”

It was the catch in her voice, the bewildered dismay that brought him back from the edge. Winnie was strong and courageous and determined to handle whatever life threw in her way. But even so, she was so damned vulnerable, it broke his heart. He knew he had to protect her, even from himself.

He released her and stepped back, though doing so nearly bent him double with agony. More than anything in the world he wanted to bury his shaft inside her soft, warm body. He needed to see her face when she found pleasure. Craved the sensation of his body joined to hers.

“I won’t seduce you into something you aren’t comfortable with. But it might help to talk about it.”

Eleven

F
or one long, pregnant moment, Larkin thought he had gotten through to her. But apparently Winnie was so accustomed to keeping her own counsel that it would take more than a promise of confidentiality to breach the walls she kept in place.

Her eyes downcast, she stood disconsolate where he had left her.

Sighing inwardly, he conceded momentary defeat. “Do you feel like going for a walk?”

Her head snapped up. “In the dark?”

“I know this mountain intimately. You won’t get lost. But bring a jacket and put on some sturdy shoes. If you want to go with me.”

Some of the strain left her face and she smiled. “I’d like that.”

He dropped Winnie off at her room and returned fifteen minutes later to find her ready and waiting. Leaving the house was a last-ditch effort to keep himself from doing something he shouldn’t.

The elegant woman with whom he’d shared dinner had disappeared, replaced by a more familiar, but no less appealing Winnie. She wore a shapeless sweatshirt, old jeans and low-topped hiking shoes. Her hair was still up in a twist, but it was looking a little worse for wear.

His mood improved drastically when she smiled. And as he ushered her in front of him down the stairs and out a side door, he felt a surge of excitement at the chance to share with her his childhood home. “I’ll show you around the house tomorrow,” he promised. “But for now, I want you to meet the mountain.”

The night was black, the inky expanse peopled only by stars. With the canopy of large trees compounding the darkness, they were forced to walk slowly. He had a flashlight, but he knew Winnie would enjoy the experience more if they let their eyes adjust to the gloom.

He didn’t hold her hand. Too much temptation there. But he supported her elbow in spots where the terrain was rough. Winnie had a long stride for a small woman, and he didn’t have to slow his pace to accommodate her.

The silence between them was comfortable, broken only by the hoot of an owl or the rustling of unseen animals in the underbrush. The more he walked, the more the memories flooded back. He’d been very small when the family came here, perhaps not even five. But those early days were burned into his brain. He and Devlyn and Annalise had been shell-shocked over their mother’s death.

And filled with a bone-deep relief that conversely tormented them with guilt.

“It’s my turn,” Winnie said, her voice muted to accommodate the night. “What are you thinking about?”

Larkin never talked about the past…not even with his brother and sister. They shared an unspoken but very real pact to try to forget the years that had damaged them. Perhaps the only way Winnie would ever come to trust him was if he told her the truth.

He just wasn’t sure he was ready or able to go there. “I was thinking about what a beautiful night it is.”

His blatantly false statement was met with silence. It
was
a beautiful night. But Winnie already knew him well enough to sense his disquiet. Cursing softly beneath his breath, he stopped and faced her. “Perhaps we should both keep our secrets. I’ve already told you I don’t do permanent relationships. And if you and I are ships that pass in the night, maybe we should enjoy each other without all our baggage.”

She looked up at him, but he couldn’t make out her expression in the shadows. “That sounds very clinical and cold.”

“Trust me, Winnie. I’m not cold,” he said. Though his brain shouted
No!,
he kissed her. Her response was immediate, passionate. In his arms, she was perfection—sensual, sexy—as appealing and irresistible as a gulp of water to a thirsty man. The fire they generated continued to disconcert him, but he was prepared to ignore the little warning bells that clanged inside his skull. Because holding Winnie was rapidly becoming an addiction.

Even as her soft lips clung to his, he knew his timing was off. He couldn’t take her on the cold, hard ground. Breathing jerkily, he held her at arm’s length. Breaking the connection was an actual physical pain. He
had to
keep his hands to himself if he was going to respect her wishes and not push her into something she didn’t really want. “C’mon. I have something to show you.”

* * *

Winnie stumbled in his wake, her heart pounding and her legs weak. Already she craved his touch. When Larkin kissed her, she felt alive. As if the world was filled with delicious possibility. It was novel and delightful and scary as heck. What Larkin was offering was a purely physical, short-term interlude. And now he was willing to keep even that on a superficial level. Carnal pleasure…no emotional closeness. Her heart grieved even as her aching body told her that the outcome was inevitable. She wanted him to fall in love with her, to tell her he couldn’t live without her. There was no one in her life she could call her own. No one to cling to in the difficult times. But Larkin was not going to be that man. So why was she even considering becoming his lover, when what she really needed was a man for the long haul?

She followed him for what seemed like miles, but was probably not all that far. The unfamiliarity of her surroundings and the depth of the night made everything seem strange and alien.

They had been walking a fairly level though rough trail. Now, suddenly, Larkin struck off up a hill, the path virtually invisible. But Larkin, like the wolves for which the family was named, was sure-footed and silent as he prowled. Winnie, not so much. She caught her toe on a root and cried out.

Larkin whirled around. “Are you hurt?”

“No. Not really. But I could use some help.”

His patent reluctance to touch her might have made her laugh if the atmosphere hadn’t been rife with sexual tension. His hand closed around hers, the palm large and slightly calloused. “We’re almost there.”

She gripped his fingers with hers and pressed close to his back. She wasn’t at all sure what wildlife might be lurking just off course. Suddenly, they broke free of the tree line, and Larkin drew to a halt. His abrupt stop, combined with her momentum, propelled her into his back rather enthusiastically.

He drew her to his side. “Careful,” he said.

At their feet, the world fell away into nothingness. Vertigo threatened for a few moments, but Winnie took a deep breath and reminded herself that Larkin would never let her come to harm.

The view in front of them was eternity, the valley below nothing but a dark void dotted here and there with pinpoints of light. Overhead, a concave bowl arced across the heavens, encompassing stars that appeared to reflect man-made illumination below.

Winnie gripped Larkin’s hand, unaccountably nervous. “It makes my stomach jumpy,” she whispered, not wanting to desecrate the hushed night.

He released her fingers and slid an arm around her waist. “You mean holding hands with me?”

Smiling in the darkness, she rested her head against his shoulder. “Sure,” she said. “That’s what I meant.”

Kissing her hair, he pulled her in front of him and encircled her with his arms. “We loved to come here as kids. Devlyn even thought of trying to rappel off the side once, but thank God we talked him out of it.”

“So you weren’t a daredevil?” She loved the sensation of utter safety she felt in his embrace. For so long she had carried her burdens alone. The yearning to have someone with whom to share them was part of the reason she was unsure about making love to him. Larkin’s presence in her life was limited. He would be a wonderful lover, she had no doubt. But without anything more, would the sex seem empty and meaningless?

She felt his laugh rumble against her back, his breath warm. “I could be wild on occasion. But for whatever reason, I was always the one trying to keep my big brother grounded and my little sister protected.”

“Must have been exhausting.”

“You have no idea. Now that they’re both happily married, I feel free for the first time in my life. I’ve passed the torch to Gillian and Sam.”

Though the tone of his voice was teasing, she knew she was hearing the unvarnished truth. And it explained a lot. Larkin didn’t need any more complications in his life. His business was flourishing, but his personal life was a sailing ship becalmed on the sea. No waves. No danger.

And he liked it that way.

Though the night remained as impenetrable as ever, gradually Winnie began to see the light. Her life was not uncomplicated. She had chosen a path that would always involve a certain amount of personal sacrifice. And she couldn’t imagine ever turning her back on the hundreds of women and children who sought refuge beneath her wing. If anything, she planned to build another house for boarders, another haven for the lost and hurting.

Such grandiose ideas didn’t leave much time for relationships. And it wasn’t fair to ask any man to sign on for a difficult journey not of his choosing. Larkin lived a life that had begun with unspeakable tragedy. But he had survived, thrived even, and had grown up to be an honorable man, a dutiful son and a caring brother. Certainly he deserved peace and happiness.

Winnie deserved those things, as well. She had allowed one egregious mistake in her youth to impact her life far more than it should. Like Larkin, she had survived certain challenges as a child, but she had become a decent, empathetic adult…at least she liked to think so.

Living like a nun was a choice she had made consciously. But now…in Larkin’s presence, she understood what she had been missing. Her sexuality had been stunted, back-burnered. She still wasn’t sure she had the erotic know-how to please a man like Larkin Wolff. But he wanted her here and now, and the opportunity to revel in a man’s passion might not pass her way again.

Even if it did…the man wouldn’t be Larkin. In the event that another handsome, charismatic guy crossed her path, she was pretty sure the temptation would not exist…not like now. Because Larkin touched something inside her. In a way no one ever had. He
wanted
her.

Her silence might have lasted ten minutes or thirty. In the midst of her soul-searching, Larkin had stood mute, a sentinel surrounding her with warmth and security.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” she said softly. “It’s impressive.”

“Not beautiful?”

“More like awe-inspiring. As if I can see the whole universe and my place in it.”

“Most people say views like this make them feel small or insignificant.”

“Not me. I think this vantage point from your mountain reminds me that my little light shining down in that valley or up in that sky is important to someone. Somewhere. I make a difference. And that’s important to me.”

“Which makes what I told you about not wanting responsibility sound pretty shallow and selfish.”

She rubbed his hand. “Not at all. You’ve built a company that helps people in important ways. And you’re an integral part of a close, loving family. But you’ve chosen to protect your heart. There’s nothing wrong with that. Especially in light of your history.”

“I’m amazed that someone hasn’t taken advantage of that Pollyanna attitude of yours. Do you ever see the bad in people?”

A knot formed in her chest, composed of searing regret and embarrassment. “Yes,” she croaked. “Believe me, it happens.”

Without warning, one of his hands slipped beneath her sweatshirt and slid up to capture a breast. When he jerked in surprise, she could tell he hadn’t expected to find naked flesh. But then again, when she’d decided to leave off her bra, she hadn’t anticipated fooling around in the forest.

She stood rigid in his embrace, jailed by two big arms encircling her and the chest of warm steel at her back. Larkin teased her nipple, sending a blast of heat from her chest to her belly. He weighed the fullness of her breast in his palm, caressing…lifting.

“God, you’re so soft,” he groaned.

As though he could decipher her incoherent thoughts, he moved back enough to bring a second hand into play, now holding her aching flesh in both hands, grinding his pelvis into her lower back. Her knees went weak, and she lost the ability to speak.

Now the sweatshirt was up to her armpits and Larkin had his fingers at the button of her jeans. She shivered as chilled night air danced across heated skin. Shaking her head in frustration at the impossible setting, she moaned.

Larkin bit the side of her neck, hard enough to leave a mark. “I want to make love to you, Winnie. Please. If you ask me to wait, I will, but it just might kill me.”

He slid the flat of his hand down inside her pants, his fingertips brushing the lacy edge of her bikini panties. “Yes,” she said, the yearning for him so thick and sweet, it threatened to choke her. “I want you, too…tonight.”