The Complete Mackenzies Collection

by Linda Howard

  “A lot of good it would have done if she’d kicked him—you put those boots on her so she wouldn’t hurt him!”

  “Well, I didn’t want my stallion damaged. On the other hand, if she had resisted service, I would have gotten her out of there. When a mare resists, it means I’ve misjudged the time, or something is wrong with her. But she took him nicely, didn’t you girl?” he finished, patting the mare’s neck.

  Mary watched, fidgeting, as he washed the mare. She still didn’t like the idea of the mare being unable to run away from the stallion, even though this particular mare was now standing as placidly as if nothing had happened a few minutes ago. It disturbed her on a deep emotional level that didn’t respond to logic, and she felt uneasy.

  Wolf led the mare to her stall, fed her and gave her fresh water. Then he squatted in front of the faucet to wash his hands and arms. When he looked up, Mary was still standing there, a troubled, almost frightened look in her eyes. He straightened. “What’s wrong?”

  Desperately she tried to shrug her uneasiness aside, but it didn’t work. It was plain in her face and voice. “It looked—it looked….” Her voice trailed off, but suddenly he understood.

  He moved slowly toward her and wasn’t surprised when she backed up a step. “Horses aren’t people,” he said gently. “They’re big, and they snort and squeal. It looks rough, but that’s just how horses mate. It would be even rougher if they were allowed to run free, because they’d kick and bite.”

  She looked at the mare. “I know. It’s just—” She stopped, because she really couldn’t say what was bothering her.

  Wolf reached her and put his hands on her waist, holding her lightly so she wouldn’t be alarmed and wouldn’t know that she couldn’t break free unless he let her. “It’s just that the roughness reminded you of being attacked?” he finished for her.

  She gave him a quick, disturbed look, then just as quickly looked away.

  “I know the memory is still there, baby.” He slowly tightened his hands, bringing her close against him and just holding her. After a moment she began to relax, and her silky head rested against his chest. Only then did he put his arms around her, because he didn’t want her to feel restrained.

  “I want to kiss you,” he murmured.

  She lifted her head and smiled at him. “That’s why I came out here: to tempt you into a kiss. I’ve become a shameless hussy. Aunt Ardith would have disowned me.”

  “Aunt Ardith sounds like a pain in the—”

  “She was wonderful,” Mary said firmly. “It’s just that she was very old-fashioned and had strict notions of what was proper and what wasn’t. For instance, only shameless hussies would wear a skirt without a proper petticoat underneath.” She lifted her skirt a little to show him.

  “Then let’s hear it for shameless hussies.” He bent his head and kissed her, and felt the familiar hot excitement begin building in his body. Ruthlessly he controlled it, because control was critical right now. He had to show Mary something, and he couldn’t do it if his libido overcame his common sense. He had to do something to banish that ever-present fear from the back of her mind.

  He raised his head and hugged her for a minute before letting his arms drop. Instead he took her hands and held them, and the expression on his face made the smile leave her eyes. He said slowly, “Are you willing to try something that might get you over being frightened?”

  She looked cautious. “Such as?”

  “We could reenact parts of the attack.”

  Mary stared at him. She was curious, but also wary. Part of her didn’t want to do anything that would remind her of that day, but on the other hand, she didn’t like being afraid. She said, “Which parts?”

  “I could chase you.”

  “He didn’t chase me. He grabbed me from behind.”

  “So will I, when I catch you.”

  She considered it. “It won’t work. I’ll know it’s you.”

  “We could try.”

  She stared at him for a long time, then stiffened as a thought came to her. “He threw me facedown on the ground,” she whispered. “He was on top of me, rubbing himself against me.”

  Wolf’s face was strained. “Do you want me to do that, too?”

  She shuddered. “Want you to? No. But I think you’re going to have to. I don’t want to be afraid any longer. Make love to me like that—please.”

  “What if you get really scared?”

  “Don’t—” She swallowed. “Don’t stop.”

  He looked at her for a long minute, as if measuring her resolve; then his mouth began to quirk up on one side. “All right. Run.”

  She didn’t. She stared at him. “What?”

  “Run. I can’t chase you if you don’t run.”

  All of a sudden she felt silly at the thought of running about the yard like a child. “Just like that?”

  “Yeah, just like that. Think of it this way: when I catch you, I’m going to pull your clothes off and make love to you, so why are you waiting?”

  He removed his hat to hook it on a post. Mary took a step backward, then, despite her dignity, whirled and ran. She heard the thudding of his boots as he came after her, and laughed with excitement despite herself. She knew she didn’t have a prayer of reaching the house; his legs were much longer than hers. Instead she relied on agility and dodged around his truck, then a tree.

  “I’m going to get you,” he growled, his voice right behind her, and his hand closed briefly on her shoulder before she sprinted away from him.

  She sought refuge behind his truck again, with him on the other side. They feinted, but neither gained an advantage. Panting, her face alight with both excitement and triumph, Mary taunted him, “Can’t catch me, can’t catch me.”

  A slow, unholy smile touched his mouth as he looked at her. She was almost glowing with her success, her silky brown hair tumbling around her face, and he wanted her so much it hurt. He wanted to take her in his arms and make love to her, and he swore to himself because he couldn’t, not right now. First he had to play this through, and, despite her brave words, he hoped she could bear it.

  They had been staring at each other, and suddenly it struck her how savage he looked. He was aroused. She knew that look on his face as well as she knew her own, and her breath caught. He wasn’t playing; he was deadly earnest. For the first time, fear began to creep in on her. She tried to tamp it down, because she knew Wolf would never hurt her. It was just—oh, damn, something about it did remind her of the attack, no matter how she tried to push the thought away. The playfulness drained out of her, and an unreasonable panic took its place. “Wolf? Let’s stop now.”

  His chest rose and fell with his breathing, and a bleak look entered his eyes, but his voice was guttural. “No. I’m going to catch you.”

  She ran blindly, leaving the dubious safety of the truck. His running steps behind her sounded like thunder, obscuring every other sound, even that of her rasping breath. It was like being in that alley again, even though a part of her clung to the knowledge that this was Wolf, and she wanted him to do this. She hadn’t had a chance to run from her attacker, but he had been behind her; she had heard his breathing just as she now heard Wolf’s. She screamed, a high, terrified sound, just before Wolf caught her and bore her down, on her stomach, to the ground, his heavy weight coming down on top of her.

  He supported himself on his arms to keep from crushing her, and nuzzled her ear. “Ha, I caught you.” He forced himself to say the words lightly, but his chest was tight with pain at what she was going through. He could feel the terror that held her in its grip, and he began trying to loosen its bonds, speaking softly to her, reminding her of the heated, sensuous pleasures they had shared. Tears stung his eyes at the sounds she made, those of a trapped and terrified animal. God, he didn’t know if he could do it. The lust had died in him at her first scream.

  At first she struggled like a wild thing, kicking and bucking, trying to free her arms, but he held them clamped down
. She was maddened with fear, so much so that despite the difference in their sizes and strength, she might have hurt him if not for his training. As it was, all he could do was hold her and try to break through the black mist of fear that enveloped her.

  “Calm down, sweetheart, calm down. You know I won’t hurt you, and I won’t let anyone else hurt you. You know who I am.” He repeated it over and over, until exhaustion claimed her, and her struggles became weak and aimless. Only then could she begin to listen; only then could his crooning words penetrate the barrier of fear. Suddenly she collapsed on the ground with her face buried in the hot, sweet grass and began to cry.

  Wolf lay on top of her with his arms still locked securely around her and soothed her while she cried. He petted her and kissed her hair, her shoulder, her delicate nape, until at last she lay limply on the grass, both tears and energy exhausted. The endless caresses affected him, too, now that she was calmer; he felt a return of the desire that was never far away from him since he’d met her.

  He nuzzled her neck again. “Are you still frightened?” he murmured.

  Bruised, swollen eyelids were closed over her eyes. “No,” she whispered. “I’m sorry I keep putting you through this. I love you.”

  “I know, sweetheart. Hold on to that thought.” Then he lifted himself back on his knees and pushed her skirt to her waist.

  Mary’s eyes flared open when she felt him pulling down her underpants, and her voice was sharp. “Wolf! No!”

  He stripped the garment down her legs, and Mary trembled in reaction. It was so much like before, in the alley. She was on her stomach on the ground, with a man’s weight on top of her, and she couldn’t bear it. She tried to scramble forward, but he locked one arm around her waist and held her while he unfastened his jeans with the other hand. He kneed her thighs farther apart and eased himself against her, then let his weight down on her again.

  “This reminds you of it, doesn’t it?” he asked in a low, gentle voice. “Being on the ground, on your stomach, with me behind you. But you know I won’t hurt you, that you don’t have to be afraid, don’t you?”

  “I don’t care. I don’t like this! Let me up, I want up!”

  “I know, baby. Come on now, relax. Think of how many times I’ve made love to you and how much you’ve enjoyed it. Trust me.”

  The smell of the hot earth was in her nostrils. “I don’t want you to make love to me now,” she managed to say, albeit raggedly. “Not like this.”

  “Then I won’t. Don’t be afraid, baby. I won’t go any further unless you want me to. Just relax, and let’s feel each other. I don’t want you to be afraid when I come up behind you. I admit, your pretty little rear end turns me on. I like to look at it and touch it, and when you cuddle it against me in bed it drives me crazy. I guess you’ve noticed, though, haven’t you?”

  Dazedly, she tried to gather her scattered senses. He’d never hurt her before, and now that the haze of fear was fading, she knew he never would. This was Wolf, the man she loved, not her attacker. She was in his strong arms, where she was safe.

  She relaxed, her tired muscles going limp. Yes, he was definitely aroused. She could feel him, nestled between her spread legs, but true to his word he was making no move to enter her.

  He stroked her sides and kissed her neck. “Are you all right now?”

  She sighed, a barely audible release of breath. “Yes,” she whispered.

  He shifted to his knees again and sat back on his heels. Before she could guess what he was about, his steely hands lifted her up and back, so she was sitting astride his thighs, but facing away from him. Their naked loins were pressed together, but still he didn’t enter her.

  The first twinge of excitement sang along her nerves. The moment was doubly erotic because they were out in the open, crouched on the grass with the hot, bright sun blazing down on them. If anyone happened to drive up, they would be caught. The sudden sense of danger sharply heightened her arousal. Actually, from the front they were covered, because her skirt was draped over his thighs.

  Then that protective cover was whisked away as he pulled her skirt up and to the side. He held her to him with one hand on her stomach, and the other hand slid down between her legs. The intimate contact brought a sharp little cry to her lips.

  “Do you like that?” he murmured against her ear and gently nipped the lobe.

  Mary made some incoherent answer. His rough fingertips were rasping over her most sensitive flesh, creating and building such pleasure that she could barely speak. He knew exactly how to touch her, how to build her to readiness and take her to ecstasy. Mindlessly she arched back against him; the movement brought his manhood more solidly against her, and she groaned aloud.

  “Wolf—please!”

  He groaned, too, from between clenched teeth. “I’ll please you any way you want, baby. Just tell me how.”

  She could barely speak for the powerful coil of sensation tightening inside her. “I want you.”

  “Now?”

  “Yes.”

  “Like this?”

  She moved against him and this time had to choke back a cry. “Yes!”

  He eased her forward until she was on her stomach again and covered her. His entry was slow and gentle, and fever enveloped her. Eagerly she met the impact of his thrusts, her body on fire, all thoughts suspended before such all consuming need. This wasn’t a nightmare; this was another part of the sensual delights he’d been teaching her. She writhed against him and felt the coil tighten unbearably. Then it sprang free, and she convulsed in his arms. He clamped his hands on her hips and loosed his own responses, driving into her hard and fast until his pulsing release freed him.

  They lay together on the grass for a long time, half-dozing, too exhausted to move. Only when Mary felt her legs begin to tingle from too much sun did she find the strength to push her skirt down. Wolf murmured a protest and slid his hand up her thigh.

  She opened her eyes. The sky was bright blue, cloudless, and the sweet scent of fresh grass filled her lungs, radiated through her body. The earth was hot beneath her, the man she loved dozed beside her, and every inch of her still held the remnants of sensation from their lovemaking. The memory of it, so fresh and powerful, began to warm her body to desire again, and suddenly she realized that his plan had worked. He had recreated the scenario that had so terrified her, but substituted himself for the attacker. Instead of fear, pain and humiliation, he had given her desire and, ultimately, an ecstasy so strong it had taken her out of herself. He had replaced a terrible memory with a wonderful one.

  His hand was lying low on her abdomen now, and the simple intimacy of his touch stunned her. She could be carrying his child. She had been aware of the probable consequences of making love without protection, but it was what she wanted, and he had made no mention of birth control. Even if their relationship didn’t last, she wanted his baby, a child with his strength and fire. If it could be a duplicate of him, nothing would make her happier.

  She stirred, and the pressure of his hand on her abdomen increased. “The sun is too hot,” she murmured. “I’m getting burned.”

  He groaned, but fastened his jeans and sat up. Then he picked up her underpants, put them in his pocket and lifted her in his arms in the same motion he used to get to his feet.

  “I can walk,” she informed him, though she wound her arms around his neck.

  “I know.” He grinned down at her. “It’s just that it’s more romantic to carry you into the house to make love.”

  “But we just made love.”

  There was fire in his black eyes. “So?”

  Wolf was just about to enter the feed store when a tingle touched the back of his neck like a cool wind. He didn’t stop, which would have signaled an alarm to anyone watching, but, using his peripheral vision, he took a quick look around. The sense of danger was like a touch. Someone was watching him. His sixth sense was highly developed from hard training and years of application, and further enhanced by the strong my
sticism of his heritage.

  It wasn’t just that he was being watched; he could feel the hatred directed toward him. He strode into the feed store and immediately stepped to the side, flattening himself against the wall as he looked out the door. Conversation in the store halted as if the words had hit a stone wall, but he ignored the thick silence. Adrenaline pumped through his body; he didn’t notice that his gloved hand automatically slid over his chest to touch the knife that had been securely attached to the webbing he’d worn sixteen years before, in a steamy, hauntingly beautiful little country that reeked of blood and death. Only when his hand encountered nothing but his shirt did he realize that old habits had come to the fore.

  Suddenly he realized that it was the man he’d been hunting, standing somewhere out there and staring at him with hatred, and rage surged through him. He didn’t need a knife. Without a word he removed his hat and boots, the hat because it increased his silhouette, the boots because they were too noisy. In his sock feet he ran lightly past the stunned and silent little knot of men who had been standing around chewing the fat. Only one voiced a hesitant, “What’s going on?”

  Wolf didn’t take time to answer, but slipped out the back door of the feed store. His movements were silent, deliberate, as he used every available bit of cover while moving from building to building, working his way around so he would come out behind where he had estimated the man to be. It was hard to pinpoint his position, but Wolf had automatically picked out the best locations for concealment. If he kept looking long enough, he’d find another of the tracks he’d been searching for; the guy would get careless, and Wolf would get him.

  He slid around the back of the drugstore, feeling the heat of the sun-warmed boards against his back. He was more cautious than before, not wanting the wood to rasp against his shirt. It was gravelly here, too, and he placed his feet with care to keep the little rocks from making a telltale grinding.

  He heard the heavy, thudding sound of someone running, as if he had bolted in panic. Wolf ran around the front of the building and knelt briefly to inspect a faint print in the dust, only a part of a print, but his blood surged. It was the same print, same shoe, same toeing-in stride. He sprinted like the big timber wolf he’d been named for, no longer caring about noise, racing up the street, looking left and right for anyone in the street.