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Feral Passions - Complete

Page 42

by Kate Douglas


  He took a sip of his wine. “Taste it. I’m curious to see what you think.”

  She took a sip and held the liquid in her mouth, savoring his unexpected words along with the unfamiliar taste of the wine. She’d never heard of port.

  She’d never had a man speak to her the way Trak did. As if she had value. As if he cared about her feelings. “This is good,” she said, thinking that everything about Traker Jakes was good. She was thankful for the glass in her hand. Something to focus on besides her swirling thoughts. “It’s really good. I don’t know anything about wine, but I really like this one.”

  Laughing softly, she set her glass down. “I’m not much of a drinker, and after two margaritas today and now this?”

  Shaking her head, she stared at the wine. The glass wavered, blurred, and she realized she was crying. So embarrassing! Wiping her eyes with both hands, she turned away, but Trak was there in a heartbeat, kneeling beside her chair with his big hands holding her thighs.

  “Chelo? What’s wrong? Did I say …?”

  “No.” She interrupted him before he could apologize. There was nothing for him to apologize for. She was the one who was losing it. “Nothing you’ve done.” She hiccupped. “Well, actually, it’s everything you’ve done, but it’s all good.”

  She took the handkerchief he handed to her. It was still damp, the one he’d given her when she’d had her meltdown at the bar, telling her story. She never cried, but as she wiped her eyes suddenly she was laughing and crying at the same time while Trak knelt at her feet looking totally confused, studying her as if she were absolutely crazy.

  Maybe she was. This entire day had been a dream and she was so afraid she’d wake up and find out none of it was real. But it had to be real. It just had to.

  _____________

  Trak tried to imagine what was going through Chelo’s mind. She’d lived an absolutely brutal existence for almost ninety years. The amazing thing was that she’d survived. He wondered if he would have been as tough.

  “I’m sorry.” She held up the handkerchief. Her eyes still sparkled with tears, her thick, dark lashes were clumped together, but she was actually smiling. “I should probably consider buying you a case of these. I’m not usually prone to tears, though at this point I don’t expect you to believe me.”

  He shook his head. “Not at all. I think you’re one tough lady. I was just wondering if I would have had the guts to survive what you’ve been through.”

  He got up from his knees and sat in his chair again, but he never took his gaze off her.

  She just stared right back at him. There was no response to a silly comment like that. He had so much power. Not even their alpha had power like Trak’s. She often wondered if that’s why the men of that pack were so cruel, because they knew they were losers, knew they could never compete against a truly strong alpha leader.

  “What happened to me never would happen to a man like you, Trak. You’re a strong male. I was physically incapable of protecting myself. The only thing I’m really proud of is that when Jorge died he didn’t take me with him. I fought his pull and won. And then I ran.”

  “He tried to take you with him? Damn. Chelo, you won because you’re a strong alpha in your own right. I imagine you were more powerful than your mate, which is probably why you were able to fight him for so many years. It’s why he couldn’t pull you into death with him. We choose not to practice that archaic tradition in our pack. The only way a mate will join their partner in death is by choice, a pact they make together. We’ve never had to test it. No one in this pack has died since I built it.”

  “It’s all yours? You’re the founder?”

  He nodded. “In a way. My brother and I. My birth pack was originally east of the Mississippi before the Civil War, which is around the time Lawson and I were born. The pack was growing older, but the alpha was still strong. He was a good man, a good leader, and I wasn’t willing to challenge him, so a few of us moved west. Lawz and I ended up in this area in 1900 and settled here. The older folks tended to stay together. A few mated couples followed us out west. They’re not actually part of our pack, but they maintain occasional contact. They’ve settled over on the eastern side of the state, but most of them live in towns now and never shift anymore. A few others went into the mountains. They stay in their wolf form; a few chose to die that way.”

  “I’ve rarely shifted over the years.” She gazed toward the dark forest. “I used to shift in order to escape, but the beatings were horrible. When Jorge died and I ran, I ran as a woman. Stole a car and learned how to drive it on the way out of our community. I’ve hardly shifted since.”

  “We could run tonight. Would you like to explore a little?”

  She opened her mouth. Shut it. Shook her head. “We can do that here? Run as wolves without fear?”

  He grinned. “It’s a wolf preserve. The wild wolves accept us. They haven’t quite figured us out, but they’re okay with us. C’mon. I’ll take you for a quick run. That will definitely ensure a good night’s sleep.”

  He stood and kicked off his moccasins, pulled his shirt over his head, and slipped out of his jeans. Chelo realized she was staring. He was so gorgeous and she wanted to see, but then he raised his head and caught her looking. She was positive she turned at least ten shades of red.

  Turning her back, she quickly stripped out of her clothes, folded them, and stacked them on the chair. When she turned around, Trak was the one staring, but he didn’t get embarrassed at all when she caught him.

  “You are absolutely beautiful.” He stared at her a moment, appreciation evident in his dark eyes. Then he sort of shook himself and turned away. He grabbed his wineglass, tilted it to his lips, and emptied the glass. Chelo did the same.

  Trak bent at the waist, changing from man to wolf faster than she’d ever seen anyone make the shift, so quickly that a wolf turned and stared at her by the time his palms—now paws—touched the deck. It took Chelo longer, though not by much.

  She’d forgotten the joy of shifting, the change not only in her body but also in her mind, her senses. The night was suddenly redolent with scents she’d barely noticed in her human form. Deer frequented the area, and rabbits munched grass nearby. It had rained a few days earlier and the air still carried the scent of damp earth and new moss. And Trak!

  The scent of his wolf was an aphrodisiac, calling her close with so much power it was hard to fight the desire to rub against him, to nip and chase. Hard, but not impossible. She wasn’t ready for anything like that. Wondered if she ever would be again.

  Trak trotted down the steps and Chelo followed. His wolf was larger than hers; his silvery coat with fur tipped in black rippled like liquid mercury in the pale moonlight. The upper edges of his ears were black, as was the top of his tail from his rump to the tip. He was absolutely magnificent. If she’d searched the world over, Chelo knew she could never have found a better man to protect her.

  His Nellie stirred in his arms and Evan smiled into the darkness. He’d wondered if the wolves might wake her. He recognized Trak’s powerful howl, the power of the alpha ringing true in his song, but the other wolf was unfamiliar.

  He’d bet good money Trak ran with his little florist tonight.

  “Wolves. I hear wolves!” Smiling, Darnell pushed herself to a sitting position beside Evan. She turned to him, blinking herself awake. “How long have you been awake?”

  He kissed her. Just a quick one before he answered. “I haven’t been asleep. I think I was afraid if I closed my eyes you’d disappear.”

  She smiled even wider. “I told you, big guy. I’m not going anywhere.”

  “That’s good.” He ran his fingertip over the edge of her ear. “I’ve imagined you in my bed ever since the first day you showed up at the resort.”

  She made a face. “You could have let me know. It’s not like I was playing hard to get.”

  “I didn’t want to scare you off. My feelings, even then, were pretty strong. I knew if I ever got you
here I wouldn’t want you to leave.”

  She leaned close and wrapped her arms around him. “That might have been negotiated. I like it here.”

  “I like having you here.” The wolves howled again, a little closer this time. Trak must have taken her up the hill toward Blackbird Lake. There was a promontory on the way up, a perfect place for wolves to howl when you were really looking for an echo. Even the wild ones had figured it out. “After you left, I used to lie here in bed and imagine you beside me. Now don’t laugh, but I always thought of you as my Nellie, just a name I could call you.”

  She laughed. “Nellie? I am so not a Nellie. Dar, maybe. I get that a lot.”

  “You’ve been Nellie—or Nell—to me since the very beginning. I’m not sure why, but I think it suits you.” He laughed and kissed the smile off her face.

  “I guess I can deal with it.” She looped her arms over his shoulders, adding, “Since it suits you.” She kissed him, a long, leisurely kiss that definitely got his attention. There was a twinkle in her eyes when she innocently said, “The wolves are quiet now, but I’m wide-awake. What we were doing before seemed to help me sleep really well. Are you at all …?”

  “Oh, yeah.” He rolled over and trapped her with his body. She shrieked with laughter as he caged her in with elbows and knees, capturing her sexy mouth with his and trying really hard—and failing—to quiet his needy groan as he licked into her mouth, teasing an answering whimper from her.

  He had a good four months’ worth of deprivation to make up for. Tonight was as good a time as any to begin. Tomorrow was soon enough to start thinking about how he was going to tell her exactly what she was getting into, should she choose him as her mate.

  _____________

  It was close to two in the morning before Trak led Chelo up the steps to his cabin. He couldn’t recall another run where he’d had this much fun. Tuck had mentioned how much more he enjoyed running now that he had Elle. Trak finally understood. Chelo was fast, and her wolf was absolutely stunning. A shimmering copper reflecting russet flashes in the moonlight, her coat was more like that of a red fox than a typical wolf.

  They’d hunted without a kill, but that was by choice, stalking rabbits to watch them bound away to safety, coming up behind a large buck and growling to warn him off. There was no point in taking life when they weren’t hungry and the herd didn’t need culling. He liked the fact that Chelo seemed to understand this without his need to shift and explain. The wild wolves on the preserve managed to keep everything in balance and the werepack only took game on rare occasions.

  Since the problems with poachers in the last few months, there’d been no reason to hunt. At least those bastards were in jail and Trak’s bullet wound had entirely healed, but the deer herd would need time to rebuild to match its former numbers. Too many had been taken before the pack had realized what was going on. The preserve was huge, but they needed to do a better job of guarding the animals from the hunters who thought anything on four legs—even behind fences and “No Trespassing” signs—was fair game.

  At the top step Trak shifted, grabbed their folded clothes off the chairs, and opened the door for Chelo. “C’mon in. It’s getting chilly out here. You can shift inside where it’s warm.”

  She entered the cabin and waited while Trak set her clothes on a chair in the main room. Naked and wanting, transfixed by her beauty, he watched her change. She paused by the chair, glanced his way, and then focused on the floor between her front paws. Her body rippled and shimmered beneath the overhead light, flowing like molten metal. Coppery gold and rust-red fur gave way to silky honey-toned skin. Her muzzle flattened, her ears lost their points, her bone structure changed, as she gracefully morphed from wolf to woman.

  Her long, dark hair fell loosely over one shoulder, pooling on the hardwood floor.

  Her shift wasn’t as fast as his, but she was still faster than some of the guys in his pack, denoting her alpha status. Oddly, Chelo seemed totally unaware of her own power. He wondered how much she even knew about what she was. Had anyone told her anything at all?

  Her shift complete, she stayed on her hands and knees for a moment, blinking into the light. He recognized that momentary disorientation when the body’s senses shifted from the ultrasensitive wolf to their more mundane human abilities. He’d worked at overcoming that, and with a bit of training he imagined Chelo would learn to work through it as seamlessly as she’d shifted her body.

  He was doing his best to ignore his erection when he walked over and held out his hand. She raised her head, blinking as if coming out of a sound sleep. Then she smiled, realized what she was looking at, and her pupils flared. She took his hand and he pulled her to her feet.

  She was a truly remarkable woman, her body curved in all the right places, full breasts standing proud, broad hips flaring from a narrow waist, her bottom more than a handful but perfectly formed. With her thick, dark hair falling to her waist, she was the epitome of an ancient fertility goddess, an open invitation calling for his touch.

  He released her hand, crossed his traitorous arms across his chest, locked his fingers around his elbows. Literally holding himself back from touching her. “Thank you for the run tonight, Chelo.” He kept his voice level, the cadence smooth. At least his alpha strength was good for some things. Staying calm when everything told him to act was an alpha ability he’d rarely had to call on. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had the chance to shift and run for the pure joy of it.” He loosened his grip on himself, scooped up her clothes, and led her to the stairway. “The guest room is upstairs. It has its own bathroom; you should find everything you need. Do you have to go in to work tomorrow?”

  Still bemused, probably from her shift, she shook her head. “No. I’m closed on Sundays.”

  “Good. It’s late. I think I might just sleep in.” He paused in front of the first room. “If you get hungry, there’s stuff in the refrigerator and the coffee is on the counter. I should be up before you, but if I’m not, make yourself at home.” He handed her folded clothing to her, leaned close, and lightly kissed her lips. “Sleep well. If you need me, I’ll be in the room downstairs.”

  “Oh. Is that your room? The one off the great room?”

  “No. Usually I sleep up here, the room at the other end of the loft. Good night.”

  “But …?” She touched his arm. “Why are you sleeping downstairs?”

  He ran his hand over her dark, shining hair. “I don’t want you to be afraid.” He shrugged, hoping she understood his intentions. “I think you’ve had enough men running your life. I want you to know there won’t be any pressure on you here.” He smiled. “Not unless you want it.”

  She stared at him for what felt like a very long time. Then she let out a breath and closed her eyes. “Thank you. I think that’s the nicest thing any man has ever done for me.”

  “Good night, Chelo. Sleep well.” He turned and walked back to the stairs and went down to the room he rarely used. It might have been the nicest thing a man had ever done for Chelo, but as far as Trak was concerned, walking away from her when he wanted her like he wanted his next breath was easily the hardest thing he’d ever done.

  CHAPTER 6

  On Monday morning, Trak gave Chelo a ride into town. Already he was growing used to her company and hated the thought of leaving her, of returning to the resort alone. Sunday had been one of the nicest days he’d had since they’d built Feral Passions.

  Trak had taken Chelo to the lodge and introduced her to the members of the pack who’d decided to hang around. Elle and Tuck had gotten word out about her background, and everyone knew to be on the lookout for Rube. From Chelo’s description of the man, it shouldn’t be hard to recognize him. At six feet tall and around 280 pounds of muscle, he’d be easy to pick out. Besides, all of them would recognize the scent of an unfamiliar were.

  Chelo said he was a mix of Chippewa and Russian with harsh features and a short temper. She wasn’t sure if he’d be alone or with others�
��he was very unpopular, even among members of his own pack. There couldn’t be many who’d want to help him take her back.

  He didn’t sound like anyone Trak wanted to make nice with. Rube was definitely on his mind when he pulled up in front of the florist shop, parked, and reached for his door.

  Chelo put her hand on his arm. “You don’t need to get out. Thank you for a lovely weekend, Trak. This was honestly the nicest time I’ve had that I can recall.”

  He covered her hand with his. “I’m glad. I’m hoping it’s the first of many. And I am most definitely getting out and walking you into the shop.” He leaned close and kissed her. “Don’t argue.”

  They’d progressed to easy kisses and lots of laughter since Saturday. She was still sleeping in his guest room and Trak remained downstairs. As much as he would love to explore what appeared to be growing between them, he planned to keep things that way until Chelo said differently. She’d had too little free choice in her life. If she chose Trak, it had to be because he was the man she wanted, not because he’d forced the issue.

  With that in mind, he got out of the truck and walked around to the passenger door, reached for Chelo’s hand, changed his mind, and grabbed her around the waist to lift her out. “Big truck, tiny woman,” he said as he set her feet gently on the ground. “I keep forgetting how little you are.”

  “Well, it is a long way to the ground,” she said, but at least she was laughing. “Besides, I’m not that small, at least not around. Now my mother was tiny, barely five feet tall and maybe ninety pounds.”

  “Chelo? You’re pushing it when you say you’re five three.” He shrugged, biting back a grin when her eyes flashed. “You’re more than a foot shorter than me.”

  Taking her keys out of her handbag, she gave him a sideways glance. “Want me to bring you down to size, big boy?”

  Shaking his head, he took the keys from her hand. “Nope. I know when to shut up.”

 

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