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Digging the Wolf: a paranormal romance (Werewolves of Crookshollow Book 1)

Page 2

by Steffanie Holmes


  “Careful,” Luke called over the downpour as he strode past me. He didn’t help me up. What a plonker. I cursed myself for fantasizing about him.

  I trudged after Luke towards the camp, trying in vain to wipe some of the mud from the seat of my dungarees. The five of us were camping in a clearing around four hundred metres from the cave network. We had Dr Doyle’s rickety old caravan as a kitchen and field office, a small tin gardening shed that functioned as artefact storage, and a collection of leaking pup tents that we slept in. I led Luke up the stairs of the caravan, and shoved open the door.

  “Take your shoes off.” I ordered him, as I hung up my hard hat, kicked my boots off and stomped into the kitchen, not caring that I was smearing mud everywhere as I located the tea and filled the kettle. We had a half-packet of biscuits left, and I knew Frances was saving them for when the new ranger arrived, but I didn’t get them out. Luke didn’t deserve the last chocolate finger.

  “Why? It’s not exactly the Ritz in here. And with you shuffling around, it looks like the set of Attacked by the Mud Creature From the Deep.” He kicked his own boots off and left them in front of the door. Without waiting for an invitation, he pulled out one of the stools at the counter and sat down, picking up one of Frances’s field notebooks from the stack on the counter and flicking through it.

  I bit back a million retorts that threatened to spill out of my mouth. I had to be nice to this guy, no matter how rude he was to me. One word from him and Frances could be shut down. And as much as I resented having to be here, I liked her, and I didn’t want to be the reason she had to stop work in the caves. That, and I needed to pass this course if I had any hope of getting into a master’s programme.

  So I took a deep breath, and tried to calm my racing heart and that weird, thrumming heat in my veins. What was it about this guy that made my whole body feel like I’d placed my finger in an electrical socket?

  “Do you take milk and sugar?” I slammed a couple of cups down on the counter, harder than I’d intended.

  “Just a splash of milk.” Luke said, not looking up from his reading. “Tell me about what you’ve discovered about the site so far.”

  “Wouldn’t you want to quiz Professor Doyle on that?” I demanded. “After all, I’m just a student.”

  As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I wanted to take them back. What was wrong with me? I never spoke like that to anyone. I was the biggest pushover in the world. The very fact I was in this hellhole instead of Sicily was testament to that. But this guy had me completely on edge.

  “Feeling feisty, aren’t we?” Luke must have sensed my discomfort, for he gave me a smile that was slightly friendlier and all kinds of gorgeous. He set down the notebook and looked up at me, those wicked green eyes sizing me up. A wet lock of hair flopped down over his eye, and he reached up and tucked it behind his ear. I gulped. If only he thought of me as anything other than an annoying student not worth his time…he was just the kind of guy I’d go for, my deepest, sexist fantasies come to life. “I can see that you don’t like me.”

  “I…it’s not…I just…” I backed away from him. Everything was going wrong. I was not used to being confronted like this, not when my veins were thrumming with tension. “I don’t know you. You just seem as though you don’t really want to be here.”

  “Then you misunderstand me. I want to be here very much.” His eyes bore into mine. “And not just because of the caves.”

  My heart pounded against my chest. Did I read that right? Was this incredibly arrogant, incredibly handsome man flirting with me? I don’t think anyone had ever flirted with me before. “I…er…”

  I must be wrong. He couldn’t possibly be—

  “Let me get that tea.” Luke stood up, his body inches from mine in the tiny kitchen. The air around me crackled with electricity. More than anything in the world I wanted to lean forward, press my body against his, and feel his lips brush against mine.

  No.

  I had to resist those thoughts. I wasn’t ready for men again, not after what had happened to Ben. And I certainly wasn’t ready for a man like this, who was cocky and confident and looked as though he sat firmly in the shagging-his-way-across-the-English-countryside camp. This guy would tear my heart out and dip it in his tea.

  Luke reached around me and went to pick up the milk. My skin crawled with heat, the urge to touch him screamed inside me. My eyes locked on his lips, wondering what it would be like to kiss them, to feel his tongue slide against mine—

  “I can do it myself,” I said, my words coming out cold and harsh as I tried to rein in my desire. I snatched the milk from his hands and stepped back, splashing some into his mug. “Don’t think that just because you’re the ranger here, that you can intimidate me with your mere presence. I’m not impressed by guys like you.”

  “What makes you think I’m trying to impress you?” Luke said. A wicked grin spread across his face. “That’s probably enough.”

  “Enough…” I glanced down. While I’d been talking, I’d still been pouring out the milk. A little white waterfall flowed over the edges of his cup and down the side of the cupboard. “Oh, shit!”

  “Don’t worry.” Luke grabbed some paper towels from the dispenser and started mopping it up. “I’ll take care of it.”

  “Wait,” I hated the way my voice whined. I held out my hand for the towels. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. It’s been a long day, and I am very damp and cold and grumpy. Let me do it.”

  I reached out to take the towels from his hand, but he yanked them away. “I said I’ll take care of it,” he said, shortly. “You just sit over there and try not to touch anything else.”

  I moved across to the other side of the counter, a safe distance away from those rippling shoulders and piercing eyes. I must’ve been mistaken. He wasn’t flirting. He’s just made it clear he’s not interested. I should have felt relieved, but all I felt was the flush of embarrassment, mixed with bitter disappointment.

  Luke finished mopping up the spill and threw the towels into the rubbish. He wiped off his mug, then set it down on the table across from me, as far from me as he could get in the tiny space. He pushed my own mug in front of me. “The caves,” he said. “Tell me about them.”

  “Frances can—”

  “I didn’t ask Professor Doyle,” he said. “I asked you.”

  Not looking up from my cup, I stammered my way through a basic description of the site, how an extended family had probably lived in the caves for several generations, using them seasonally to store food and take shelter when the weather turned.

  “And you haven’t found any cave paintings, anything like that?”

  I shook my head. “Cave paintings are extremely rare, especially in this period. Conditions have to be just right, or they’ll be destroyed. I don’t think we’ll find anything as interesting as that here.”

  “What’s that on your wrist?” Luke asked, pointing to the silver bracelet I’d been playing with subconsciously.

  Hastily, I covered my hand over the cool metal band. My father had given me the bracelet when I’d got my GCSEs. “I’m so proud of you, Anna,” he’d said as he slid the cool metal onto my wrist. “I know you’re going to do amazing things.” He’d died two weeks later, and I hadn’t taken it off since. Just touching it reassured me when I was nervous, and being in the same space as Luke Lowe made me incredibly nervous.

  “The environmental regulations clearly prohibit the wearing of jewellery in the caves.” Luke frowned. “It could get snagged on the rocks and cause damage to the caves, not to mention the fact that jewellery on any site is a health and safety concern. Your party has already broken off that stalactite. If I see any other damage in the caves, I’m going to ask you all to leave.”

  “It ... it’s just a bracelet.” I said, a lump rising in my throat. “I’m being so careful. You have no idea. I’m the only one wearing my hard hat. Surely that’s more important—”

  “It’s all important
. That bracelet is not allowed. You need to take it off.”

  “OK. Fine.” I could barely get the words out. Tears battled against my eyelids. I tried to blink them back, but they spilled over, crashing down my cheeks. I couldn’t stay there with him, not while I was crying. My whole body flushed with the shame of it. I turned my head away, pushed my stool back, and shoved my feet into my boots.

  “Anna, wait!” Luke called out, but I was already out the door and fleeing to my tent.

  Once inside the privacy of my canvas walls, I collapsed on my sleeping bag, the tears flowing thick now. What was wrong with me? I’d been feeling OK for a month now. I hadn’t cried about Ben in a few weeks, and we’d buried Dad years ago…so why was I so upset now? Luke was right, the bracelet was against the rules. And I knew better than anyone how important obeying the rules was.

  It was that guy, Luke. His arrogance had got inside my head. Maybe I wasn’t as over Ben as I thought, because just the thought of Luke flirting with me made me feel wonderful and sick at the same time.

  Why did Luke have to come here at all? Why couldn’t they have sent a non-attractive ranger? And most of all, why was my own body betraying me? Why did I want him so badly, even though I also hated his guts?

  2

  Luke

  Woah.

  Anna Sinclair.

  Woah.

  The moment I stepped out of the car, her scent hit me like a brick wall. Light and floral and utterly delicious, she was like a rare flower blooming in a barren field. I knew from the moment her aroma wafted across my nostrils she was meant to be mine.

  And that knowledge was terrifying.

  As she stalked through the forest towards me, panic rose in my chest. This was not supposed to happen. I’d come back to Crookshollow for the caves. I was here for one reason only, to prevent any of my family’s dark secrets from being drawn to the surface, to ensure my father could rest in peace without the past being dragged up again. And now that the site’s discovery had been made public, there was also the possibility that some other wolf might show up here, eager to lay claim to my family’s old territories. I had to be on my guard. I couldn’t have any distractions.

  As I watched her bite her lower lip with nerves, my cock stirred to life. I knew Anna Sinclair was going to be one hell of a distraction.

  This can’t be happening. I had it all planned out. I’d fabricated a story about a robbery to trick the last ranger into taking emergency leave. I’d managed to flirt my way through the job interview with Bev, the fifty-something head ranger with hair like burnt straw, and I’d landed the job as the new park ranger in Crookshollow Forest, overseeing the archaeological excavation. All I had to do was sneak into the cave at night, find the paintings, destroy them, and check that no other wolves were in the area. Then I could retreat back into the wilderness and continue my mourning in peace.

  I never could have anticipated that my mate would also be here. And now here she was – the woman I was destined to be with, the women who my body already ached for – offering me a mud-caked hand to shake.

  I didn’t dare take it. The air between us already sizzled with electricity – with the unknowable and unavoidable force that drew me to her. My veins surged with heat, and the wolf within pressed against my skin, threatening at any moment to burst forth and claim his mate. If our skin touched, I couldn’t guarantee I’d be able to control myself, and jumping the young archaeologist and doing her up against a tree before I’d even said, “Hello, terrible weather we’ve having,” might be considered a little rude. So I stared at her hand, and she retracted it.

  My rudeness rankled her, and her beautiful face set in a firm expression, her cute nostrils flaring slightly with anger. God, that was hot. Note to self, make her angry again. She was trying to lead me to the camp, but I knew I needed to see the cave first, to leave my scent there, lest any other wolf showed up trying to claim it as their own. Plus, I wanted to see if it still matched my father’s description.

  Anna pointed out the entrance. It was small, barely wide enough for me to wiggle my shoulders through. This made perfect sense, as it meant only one wolf could enter or exit at a time. This made it easier to guard against warring packs. Unfortunately, it hadn’t saved my ancestors from a grisly death.

  I was hoping Anna would shimmy through the gap first, so I could watch her gorgeous arse slide down into that dark hole. But she hung back, waiting for me. I shoved my legs through the hole and slid down.

  Inside, the cave was surprisingly bright. Floodlights illuminated the raised floor of the work area, their cords extending out through a smaller hole in the roof and hooking up to the solar panels I’d noticed resting against the rocky ledge outside. The light reflected off the shallow pool of water at my feet, a small river that ran across the entrance and deeper into the cave.

  I glanced around, taking it all in. The cave floor, the vaulted room, the little river by the door. It was just as my father had said it was—

  I raised my nose into the air and sniffed. A hundred snatches of scent wafted through my nostrils – mostly the smell of rats and foxes and other small animals that had taken shelter here. The distinct odour of another wolf was absent. Good, I was the first one here. Hopefully, there wouldn’t be any others.

  As I waded through the shallow river, I raised my arm, rubbing my underarm as casually as I could across the rocks. I noticed one of the stalagmites in the cluster by the entrance had been broken off. A shudder of rage tore through my body. Archaeologists pissed me off so much. All they were interested in was evidence of human achievement, human beauty, human triumph. Meanwhile, they stomped around in beautiful natural landscapes, destroying things that took thousands of years to form, and didn’t even bat an eyelid.

  I spoke briefly to Frances Doyle, the head archaeologist. She was annoyed at my presence. She wasn’t wearing her hard hat, which I made a mental note to write up later. In fact, of all the team, only Anna was wearing the correct safety gear. Her hard hat looked adorable perched on top of her head.

  Even though I was standing in the home of my ancestors, a place we’d long since thought buried and hidden forever, I struggled to concentrate as I became aware of Anna Sinclair behind me, her soft breathing, her teeth biting down on the edge of her lip, the shape of her breasts through the wet fabric of her shirt—

  My blood ran hot, my whole body desperate to claim her. How was I going to survive sharing a campsite with her? I’d been here five minutes and I was already imagining what she’d look like rolling naked in the mud while I took her—

  No. Focus, Luke. You’re not here for a mate. You’re here for your father.

  My father. The pain of his loss temporarily cooled my blood. It had only been a month since he’d died, and I still couldn’t believe he was really gone. All my life it had just been the two of us. I longed to talk to him, to have his opinion on what I should do about Anna, but he’d never give me his wisdom again.

  Through the haze of my thoughts, I heard Frances order Anna to take me back to the camp and put the kettle on. Good. Maybe I’d be able to collect my thoughts away from this place. This time, Anna led the way out of the cave. I clambered out behind her with as much dignity as I could muster, deliberately running my palm along the cave wall, smearing a scent path that should deter any other wolf.

  Anna stalked in front of me, that sensuous arse of hers swaying seductively, even in her mud-covered dungarees. She must be feeling the effects of the attraction, too. I noticed with a not inconsiderable amount of joy that she was staring over her shoulder at me. She stared so hard she ran right into a tree, and fell down into the mud.

  She looked miserable sitting in that puddle in the pelting rain, her dungarees bunched up around her boots. I wanted desperately to help her up and wipe all the mud off her arse with my hand, but I knew if I touched her, I would be claiming her as mine. And as tempting as she was, I couldn’t do that. She was perfect, and I was a broken, damaged man, carrying secrets that would chil
l her soul.

  If only I could get my body to see sense. It was going to be very, very hard to keep my mind on the task at hand.

  An hour later, I lay on my inflatable mattress, my stomach rumbling and a stack of field notes on my chest that I should have been studying. But instead, I was staring at the ceiling and thinking about Anna.

  I’d been rude to her in the caravan, when she offered me tea. I’d been even more rude trying to get information from her about the site. I’d even flirted with her a little, just to see how she’d react. Surely, she must feel the same energy between us, the same deadly attraction?

  Well, Anna may have been my mate, but she certainly didn’t know it. She was a shy little thing, always biting her lip instead of saying what was on her mind. Normally I would never be interested in a girl like that, so eager to please, so desperate to be liked that she never disagreed. I could tell she’d wanted to tell me to fuck off with my attitude, or to fuck her with my cock. But instead she apologised.

  And then, when I cornered her about her bracelet, she’d burst into tears and run away. The pain in her eyes when she put her hand on that silver band tore at me. Something had hurt her badly, and it had to do with that bracelet. And like an idiot, I had chewed her out about it.

  This is never going to work. I told my brain. I don’t want to be with anyone, least of all a shy archaeologist. I’ve been alone my entire life, and that’s just the way it’s supposed to be. I have my own pain to deal with. I don’t need to take on anyone else’s.

  You’re an idiot. My brain whispered back. Maybe she’s exactly what you need.

  Professor Doyle cooked a dinner of stew and potatoes. The stew burnt to the bottom of the pan, and tasted mostly of charcoal. The potatoes were so lumpy they could’ve spelled DON’T EAT ME in braille. The team ate in silence, although it was clear from their faces that this was the calibre of meal I could expect to get used to.

 

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