Cowboy in Wolf's Clothing

by Kait Ballenger

  His sincerity caused a lump of emotion to clog her throat. The graveled, strained quality of his voice told her it’d been hard for him to say. Alpha males like Colt Cavanaugh didn’t make a habit of apologizing.

  “I would have said you never let your guard down.”

  “I have a rougher time keeping my guard up when it comes to you.” There was a hint of pain in those words. She faced him.

  “Please.” Those gray eyes softened from steel to the color of the Montana sky during a thunderstorm, breathtaking and conflicted. “Just one dance. Let me make it up to you. I’ll grovel and tell you what a dick I was being and everything.”

  She fought down a chuckle. It made her angry that he could make her smile again after he’d been so cruel before, but she couldn’t help it.

  Removing his Stetson for a moment, he ran his fingers through his hair before placing the hat back on his head. As he did so, his armor snapped back into place. The walls he’d erected to keep out the rest of the world had been raised again, clear as day. All she ever saw of the true Colt Cavanaugh were little glimpses. Enough to keep her intrigued and coming back for more.

  He tipped his Stetson down low. “If you do it right, dancing may as well be a precursor to sex.”

  She bristled. So much for any sign of tenderness. “So that’s what you want? To sleep with me again?”

  “No, I’m saying that’s why I haven’t danced with anyone else.”

  Colt Cavanaugh might have been a valiant warrior willing to risk his life for her—on more than one occasion—but he wasn’t going to ride her off into the sunset on the back of Silver. She’d known that from the start.

  So why did it still disappoint her so much?

  “I have a rule against sleeping with the women at Wolf Pack Run. Too much potential for complication,” he said.

  “You have a lot of rules.”

  He swept a hand over his tie, straightening it. “I appreciate order.”

  She nodded. “Right. Control freak.”

  So that was the only reason. Not that he didn’t want to dance with anyone other than her. Of course that would be the case.

  You knew who and what he was when you went to bed with him, Belle. No point in crying about it now.

  “I know what you’re thinking, Belle, and no, that’s not the only reason.” He read her like she was a novel he’d long ago memorized. “The more important reason is I find my tastes have been somewhat singular as of late.” He eased closer, and a blush crept up her neck.

  “I know the fact that I’m a Rogue makes me a pariah among pack wolves like you and your packmates, and you’ve already made it clear you don’t want me, but you don’t have to rub it in. I know your type, Colt. You said it yourself. We’ve had our one night together. I may as well be used goods to you.” The truth of how she’d been feeling this whole miserable evening spilled forth like an uncontrollable wildfire. Her voice was raised, but she knew with the country reception music thumping, no one could hear her.

  Colt’s features hardened, and he practically snarled his response at her. “No.” He was shaking his head, and his jaw drew so tight, it seemed as if his teeth might crack. “If you think I have such a low opinion of you, then you know nothing about me at all.” His hand shot out, and he grabbed hold of her wrist gently yet firmly as he tugged her back toward the party.

  “What are you doing?” She pulled back slightly, but it was clear he wasn’t letting her go.

  “Staking my claim,” he answered.

  There was no use arguing. He’d made up his mind, and she knew when he did, the man was immovable. They were at the edge of the reception area, and he led her out onto the dance floor. The next song was cueing, and a slow country ballad blasted over the speakers.

  Before she could stop him, he’d tugged her into his arms, pulling her against him. His large hand cupped her lower back, and he pulled her flush against his chest. The top of her head barely reached the height of his shoulder, and then they were swaying. He led her around the dance floor with ease.

  Of course, he would.

  “Staking your claim?” she whispered. “Like a dog pissing on something?”

  He eased back enough to glance down at her. “Well, I am a wolf, but even I’m not quite that kinky.”

  Belle threw back her head and laughed. She couldn’t help herself. She needed a good chuckle if she expected to make it to the end of this song. When the last of her laughter shook through her, his eyes were still on her.

  “Do you see that?” he asked.

  “See what?”

  “The way they’re all looking at you.”

  She scanned the crowd. He was right. Many of the Grey Wolves were glancing their way. “It’s because I’m not one of them.”

  Colt spun her into a smooth twirl and then caught her again. “That may be true for some of them, but it’s more than that. When you laugh, Belle, that delicious blush fills your cheeks and you light up the whole room.”

  “Coming from the man whose grin puts Tom Cruise to shame.”

  He turned that exact grin on her. All white teeth and charm. “You’re not the least bit undesirable, Belle. Second only to the bride, you’ve been the belle of the ball all night, and that’s only because no woman ever looks better than on her wedding day.”

  “Belle of the ball. Aren’t you punny?” she joked.

  He grinned. “You know what I mean.” His hand slid to the curve of her spine.

  She shook her head. “It’s because you’re making me look desirable.”

  “Maybe so, but I couldn’t do that if I didn’t believe it myself.”

  Heat pooled between her legs.

  “I thought you said there could be nothing between us.”

  He twirled her and then caught her again. He was an expert dancer. The same way every movement, every word of his was practiced, except for those occasional glimpses of the real him.

  “And there can’t be, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to let any of my packmates have you either. I refuse to share.”

  She misstepped and nearly landed on his foot, but he caught her. “So let me get this straight: You don’t want me, but no one else can have me?” She rolled her eyes. “That makes perfect sense.”

  “I never said I didn’t want you, Belle.” He tore his gaze away from her, staring out into the crowd. “There are things even I can’t share, because of my position.”

  “That’s cryptic.” Her heart thumped hard in her chest at the prospect of him wanting her, and she fought to ignore it. She looked up at him. “Can’t share or won’t?”

  He held her gaze, refusing to look away. “Both.”

  “And that’s supposed to be enough for me?” The music slowed, starting to fade out, but he didn’t seem to notice.

  “It has to be. I never promise anything more.” He hesitated. Something in his eyes softened. “Even if I want to.”

  “But that was before.” She gazed up at him, willing him to understand the words she left unspoken.

  Before we had a connection, before it was clear there was something between us. Before I thought you may have died, and it tore me to pieces.

  …before you meant something to me.

  His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed down the emotion. He knew exactly what she meant. She saw it in his eyes, which meant he’d felt it, too.

  “Do you know what happened to me when the vampires took me captive?” he asked.

  She had no idea, but she had her fears. “No.”

  A darkness overtook his whole demeanor. “They tortured me, but I refused to surrender to them.”

  Her heart ached for him. He might have been stubborn, irritating; he might have hurt her, but no one deserved that. “I’m so sorry, Colt.”

  His lips twitched, fighting a snarl. “You know I don’t li
ke pity, Belle. That’s not why I’m telling you this.” They were still swaying. “Every time I’d feel like breaking, there was one thing that would give me the strength to keep going.”

  “What was that?”

  “The memory of the night I spent with you.” His eyes captured hers, searching her soul for answers. “We barely know each other.”

  “We’ve been through more together than most people have in a lifetime.”

  “Maybe you’re right, but we’ve only spent one night together, yet every time I thought I was about to die, it was your face I would see and that’s what kept me going. Why is that?”

  Butterflies fluttered in her stomach, threatening to leave her speechless. “Maybe because we’re friends?”

  He chuckled. “Friends. Is that what you’d call us?”

  “Wouldn’t you?” She blinked.

  “Friends,” he mused. Lowering his voice to a whisper, he leaned into her ear. The heat of his breath tickled over her earlobe and neck, sending shivers down her body. “I’ve never met a friend I’ve wanted to fuck more.” He pulled away. “But that doesn’t change anything.”

  She was struggling to draw breath. “Colt, everyone is staring.”

  He was looking at her as if she were the only other person in the room. “I already told you, Belle. How many times do I need to say it? You’re breathtaking, and I don’t do dances. Of course, everyone is staring.”

  “No. That’s not what I mean.”

  He raised a brow.

  “Colt, they’re staring…because the song ended several minutes ago.”

  And yet he was still holding her.

  Chapter 15

  Belle couldn’t quite remember how she and Colt separated. He might have muttered some vague excuse to release her as someone called out his name, but the next thing she knew, she was standing alone on the dance floor. Her head was still as clouded as if he were still in front of her.

  “May I cut in?”

  The question came from behind her. Before she could answer, she was in someone’s arms again, and they were definitely not Colt’s.

  “Wes,” she breathed.

  “Belle,” he acknowledged, sweeping her onto the dance floor at arm’s length.

  Her stomach churned. Caught up in a dance with him, there was no way to escape. And she knew full well that had been his intention.

  “Shouldn’t you be dancing with your bride?” she asked. It was a pathetic attempt, but she had to try.

  He nodded to where Naomi was dancing with a man who was clearly related to her. “She’s dancing with her brother this song, and considering he didn’t manage to talk her out of marrying me, now that the deed is done, he’s likely pushing for an annulment.”

  She couldn’t imagine why. Everyone knew Wes Calhoun was a man no one crossed, and if someone did, well…they didn’t live to tell the tale. “He’s a brave man.”

  Wes chuckled darkly. His gaze drifted to his wife and lingered there appreciatively. “I’ve grown more patient over the years. Besides, he’d lost that battle long before I met him. Naomi and I were already mated.” His attention shifted back toward her. “So should I call you Elizabeth Beautane, since that seems to be the alias you’re going by these days?”

  “It’s not entirely an alias. That is my legal first name.”

  “The devil’s in the details.”

  Or dancing with me, she thought.

  “So how does my former pack’s physician show up in my wedding party under an alias, claiming to be a Grey Wolf, only twenty-four hours after she arrives at the pack?”

  She shrugged as best she could while keeping pace with him. “The wedding part was your wife and her friends’ doing. As for the alias and the Grey Wolf part, you’ll have to take it up with Colt.”

  “Colt.” He smirked. “Not Commander, though I’m not surprised after that little display. Seems like you have Commander Casanova’s full attention.”

  Commander Casanova? Oh God, they all called him that?

  She feigned innocence. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  Wes shook his head. “Don’t play coy with me after crashing my wedding, Belle. How do you and Colt know each other?”

  I had a wild hot night with him, and now I’m carrying his baby…

  “It isn’t crashing if your wife invited me, and like I said, you’ll need to take it up with Colt.” There was no way she was getting into this with Wes freaking Calhoun. Not now. Not ever. The only person on this green earth she found more terrifying was perhaps Maverick Grey, and it was a toss-up.

  “I will. After the wedding.” His eyes found Naomi again. “Tonight, it’s all about her. But in the meantime, Belle, you should know that Colt is a brother to me. I knew when we met before that you were harmless. Wyatt had you so wrapped around his finger that you couldn’t see what you were getting yourself into.”

  “But you knew.” It was an accusation, plain and simple.

  Something in his eyes darkened. “It wasn’t my job to babysit some Rogue she-wolf who wanted a taste of living on the Wild side, and I had my own demons to contend with.”

  “Where are you going with this, Wes?”

  “The Wild Eight changes people. I know that firsthand. I won’t say anything to Maverick—running to our packmaster isn’t my style.” He stopped dancing abruptly, lowering his voice to a low, threatening whisper as he released her. “But if you hurt Colt, I won’t hesitate.”

  Belle stiffened. Stepping away from her, Wes navigated his way across the dance floor, leaving Belle standing stupefied in his wake. She watched from a distance as he approached Colt. Wes leaned in to whisper something to the commander, and the two men grinned.

  Belle watched Colt and Wes with their faces side by side. They looked eerily similar. Typically, one wouldn’t notice it. Colt had gray eyes and dirty-blond locks so close to brown that his beard was, in fact, brown, while Wes was as golden blond and blue-eyed as they came, so their coloring was entirely different. If the two men had been across the room from each other, she would have said there were only minor similarities, but seeing them so close together, she realized how wrong that was. There was a slight difference in facial structure and coloring, but the shape of their eyes, the way they crinkled at the edges as they smiled, the masculine curve of their noses, and most notably, the wry, mischievous nature of those wide, white-toothed grins were nearly identical.

  Wes’s words echoed in her head.

  Colt is a brother to me.

  Not like a brother but is a brother. That minor distinction changed everything.

  Belle froze. She ceased to hear the music or sense the movement around her, the party stilled in her mind as the weight of her realization flooded over her. Her heart thumped in her chest, her pulse racing. It all made sense now. Why a Grey Wolf high commander would give any thought to the innocence of a Rogue she-wolf with ties to the Wild Eight.

  She thought she’d escaped the Wild Eight, but it was only taking a new form.

  She needed to get out of here right now. She couldn’t deal with this. After Wyatt, she’d sworn to herself she’d never go down that path again.

  You don’t know anything for certain, Belle. Calm down, she chastised herself.

  But she couldn’t, because just as she was about to flee the party, Colt’s cold, steely eyes found hers, and she knew in an instant her suspicions were correct.

  Colt Cavanaugh, high commander of the Grey Wolves, and the man who’d saved her life, wasn’t a Grey Wolf at all. Maybe he was now, but he hadn’t been born to the pack.

  As Belle stared into his eyes, she knew. Wes was Colt’s brother, which meant Colt was a son of Nolan Calhoun. And he was no Grey Wolf.

  He was Wild Eight through and through.

  Belle turned on the heel of her boot and ran.

  She didn’t stop until she
reached the cover of the nearby forest, panting and struggling for breath. Until a large hand clapped over her mouth.

  * * *

  “What did you say to her?” Colt snarled at Wes.

  Moments earlier, he’d watched Belle run from the party like someone had lit a fire beneath her boots. Something had spooked her, and considering Wes had pulled her into a sudden—albeit brief—dance moments before that, he had an idea exactly who the culprit was.

  “Nothing awful. Just told her if she crossed you, I’d turn her in myself.”

  Colt glared at Wes as if he were about to rip his head off.

  Wes frowned. “She’s Wild Eight, Colt. That’s my game, and you know it. What do you want her for anyway?”

  Since the Wild Eight’s dissolution, Wes had been in charge of the few prisoners who’d surrendered themselves to the pack. They were attempting to reintegrate them as Grey Wolves, but it would be a long process before they were fully involved in pack life.

  Lifelong allegiances didn’t disappear overnight.

  Colt growled. “Nice one, asshole. If anything, you should be more worried that I hurt her, not the other way around.” Colt shoved his recently drained champagne glass into Wes’s hand. “Do me a favor, Wes, and stay the fuck out of my love life.”

  Wes quirked a brow. “Love life?” He let out a long, low whistle.

  Colt snarled in response. “Just keep your mouth shut and stay out of my business, Wes.”

  “Oh, man, you’re done for.” The groom chuckled. “Been there, done that, brother, and look where I am now.”

  Wes was still laughing at Colt’s expense as Colt prowled across the dance floor. He’d deal with Wes later. They may have been sons of the same monster of a man, but that didn’t mean Colt wouldn’t tear Wes a new one.

  Colt plowed after Belle, searching through the darkness for her. He was several meters outside the reception area when he heard the scream. If he hadn’t decided to go after her, he might not have heard it, but he’d know that sound anywhere. He recognized it from when the vampire had attacked her in the clearing.