by Claire Ryann
Still... She watched him rock back on the heels of his leather boots, squatting in front of the hearth as he wiped sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. The flickering light from the flames gave his skin a warm glow and brought out the rusty tones of his hair.
His fingers grasped his shirt where small brown buttons held it together. The top two buttons had been undone since he'd appeared, exposing a glimpse of dark brown hair scattered over his chest. Now he pulled the shirt away from his body in a few quick tugs to move air between the soft cotton flannel and his skin.
Haley stretched her neck, trying to get a look down his shirt.
If she was going to be held prisoner in her own home by a psychopath, at least he was a sexy one. Stockholm syndrome suddenly made so much more sense to her.
“Are you comfortable?” He asked. This time his voice was calm and concerned, “When was the last time you ate?”
He was already on his feet and headed to the kitchen.
“You don't have much to work with,” his voice called from the kitchen as she heard the sounds of cabinets being opened and closed. “Is there still a freezer in the shed?” His face appeared from around the wall that divided the living room from the kitchen.
Haley looked at him and shrugged, “I don't know,” she offered vaguely. There was a detached garage off to the side of the property. She had noticed there was a wire running from the cabin roof to the garage so she assumed there was power out there but she hadn't even tried her key in the lock since she'd been here. She had no idea what was out in the shed.
Obviously, this guy knew more about her temporary home than she did.
He frowned at her, “I guess it doesn't matter if it's still out there if you haven't stocked it for the winter,” he winked at her. He sounded like he was joking with her but he also sounded a little irritated.
Why would she need to stock the freezer for the winter? She never had more than 3 days off in a row, the small freezer connected to the propane fridge in the house was more than sufficient.
Now propane-- that had been something she'd made sure was filled when she moved in. The cabin had electricity that had been run from nearby power lines but it wasn't very reliable. Haley had discovered that the first week she'd arrived when a thunderstorm left her in complete darkness. She had nothing for phone service on the mountain and had had to call the land lord from work the next day. He'd shown her where the circuit breakers were and how to reset the power if it got knocked out again.
Actually, he'd said “when” it got knocked out again. And sure enough, it had gone out just a few days later when another storm drenched the mountains and lit up the sky with a dazzling lightning show.
The fridge ran on propane, the stove ran on propane, the heater ran on propane. The landlord told her that a tank of propane ought to get her through the winter so she made sure to start off with a full tank. She was glad she had since she ran the heat almost constantly when she was home. The nights got so much chillier than she had expected. There was a pretty good supply of firewood under an awning out on the patio but she had no clue how to build a fire in a fire place that didn't have a gas line to get the wood to light.
Haley studied the expertly stacked logs that were now blazing in the fireplace. Now that she was thinking about it, she couldn't remember ever having built a fire like that. Her condo in Long Beach didn't even have a real fireplace, just one of those shallow insets in the wall with some fake logs and a glass screen. All she had to do was flip a switch and it lit up. They weren't even real flames.
When she'd moved to Washington to live with Rod, he'd had a wood burning stove but he never used it, they just ran the heater instead.
The little house she rented when Rod kicked her out had a real fireplace, but it had been converted to gas. She only used it once with wood, stacking a box of store bought firewood onto the andirons and using the gas to ignite it. It had burned for a few minutes and then filled the house with smoke before she doused it with water, only discovering what a flue was several days later when she told her tale to the neighbor.
After that fiasco, she'd decided not to mess with fireplaces when she had perfectly good heater, and that's what she'd been using since moving up here.
Daelan had disappeared back into the kitchen. She could hear the hiss of the burners on the stove and the sounds of cans being opened, pots being moved around, and soon the whistle of the kettle.
A few minutes later, he appeared again this time carrying a steaming mug toward her.
“You're going to need more groceries on hand if you're planning on being up here through the winter,” he said as he handed her the mug, “I'll get the kid to bring some supplies up when he gets your car.”
“But I don't need groceries, I'm in town almost every day.”
He gave her an odd look, as if she'd said something that didn't make sense to him.
Her fingers brushed over his as she accepted the mug and she was surprised at his sudden flinch. It took a quick move on her part to avoid spilling the hot liquid that she now identified as tea.
As she lowered the mug to her lips and began to blow gently across the surface to cool the tea, she couldn't help but wonder if that meant that she wasn't the only one who'd felt the jolt of electricity move between them when their fingers touched.
She watched him wordlessly return to the kitchen. She still wasn't sure to make of him, but her body sure seemed to have decided.
She really wanted to go with her body on this one.
***
Haley listened to him rustle through her kitchen, muttering to himself as the smells of cooking began to make their way into the main room.
The storm had picked up as soon as Daelan had gotten the door unlocked. The bright morning sun was a pale memory of itself, blocked almost entirely by cloud cover. Snow was piling up along the outside window ledges, already obscuring visibility through the triple think Plexiglas storm windows.
The electricity dimmed dangerously close to all the way out before the lights returned to full brightness.
"Daelan?" Haley was suddenly glad he was there. He seemed to know his way around a survival book, and he wasn't hard to look at.
She jumped to her feet and went to the kitchen as the lights dimmed again. As soon as she rounded the corner, she felt silly. She'd been managing on her own up here for just over a month and as soon as a man showed up, she was letting a little storm make her jumpy.
There he was, standing casually in front of the camper sized stove, stirring some sort of soup concoction that looked as good as it smelled. Even though he was merely staring absently in the general vicinity of the wall behind the stove, she felt like she was interrupting something intensely private.
She cleared her throat quietly and his attention snapped to her. Haley's voice stuck in her throat at the feral look in his eyes, the slight flare of his nostrils. Something about him suddenly struck her as wild. His curls were askew, looking like he'd combed them back from his face with his fingers. It had left them in a furry disarray that made him look untamed. The power dimmed again as he looked at her and his eyes reflected it, giving them the eerie effect of an animal staring into her headlights.
Haley was overcome with the feeling of being hunted and the unexpected rush of heat between her thighs sent her backward, forgetting her bruised knee until her weight came down on it.
Daelan had her in his arms before the string of curse words left her mouth.
"You shouldn't be up on that," he admonished her as he carried her back to her seat by the fire. He picked up her ice pack from where it had fallen on the floor when she'd jumped up, "I'll get you more ice, just stay put."
He was back in seconds with more ice wrapped in a new towel for her. "Here," he moved the quilt aside and examined her knee, "doesn't feel like anything's broken, just looks like you bashed it pretty good." His fingers moved lightly from the swollen knot over her kneecap.
Haley wanted to wince. The bruising
was starting to show and the skin was tender. She'd also skinned it up pretty good when she'd landed and it stung when his fingers brushed the torn skin.
His touch was so soft though, obviously intended to avoid hurting her. The sudden rush of exhilaration she'd felt in the kitchen when he'd looked at her like he was about to eat her flickered again, but also something less urgent. Something warm that made her feel safe as long as Daelan stayed.
Preferably right where he was, beside her. Running his fingers over her skin. Examining the wounds on her knee and then caressing the little divot along the back of her knee and over the curve of flesh that marked the beginning of her thigh.
She watched his eyes close as his fingers began slowly grazing up the back of her thigh, under the hem of the long nighty she had put on. He looked like he was concentrating very hard and she got the impression he wasn't entirely paying attention to where his fingers were headed.
Haley held her breath for fear of reminding him who he was with. She didn't want him to stop.
A loud crack broke the spell and Daelan's hand was gone. The crack outside was followed almost immediately by an equally loud crash and thud. The thud coincided perfectly with the black out.
Haley dropped her feet to the floor and sat forward on the edge of the sofa. She looked up at Daelan's profile illuminated by nothing but the flickering light of the fire.
That wild look was on him again. In the orange glow of the firelight he looked like a predator on guard. Poised directly in front of her, his back only barely turned toward her, his right hand held slightly away from his body, shielding her protectively.
His face was to the front door, his head slightly tilted as if he was still listening to sounds that she couldn't hear.
Slowly his shoulders relaxed, the tension through his thighs uncoiled and Haley found her pulse racing as she watched each muscle in his body as it untensed. She watched him move across the room. He was tall with a lean build, broad shoulders and narrow waist. Haley remembered the feel of his muscular chest beneath her open palms and the flex of his forearms when he'd held her steady. He was still wearing only the flannel shirt, no t-shirt under it and she hadn't seen a sign of a coat despite the cold, she could also recall the heat coming off his body as he'd pinned her against him. Some men just ran hotter than others, and Daelan was about as hot as she'd ever seen.
As Daelan pulled the front door open she got a good look outside. Wind was whipping through the pine trees that surrounded the little cabin and white specks were being hurled through the sky. She could see the thick blanket of white that had already rendered everything in sight to a smooth, shapeless mass.
She'd never seen snow actually falling from the sky until she'd moved to Washington. Now she felt her jaw hanging slack as she stared past the man in her doorway. She had no idea so much snow could build up so fast.
Daelan mumbled something she couldn't quite hear and then closed the door and made sure it was latched and locked, "Looks like I'm staying the night."
There was that glint in his eye again and Haley swallowed the lump that formed in her throat.
7
A branch on one of the big trees had given way under the weight of the snow and come crashing down on top of the electrical line that kept the little cabin's lights on leaving them in darkness except for the fire.
Daelan looked out into the snow and considered his options. Of course he could still get home. Maybe not in the truck, but his wolf's paws were wide and made easy work of snow travel but even with his cross country route, it would take him several hours. Hours of cold and white out blizzard conditions.
He knew he was making excuses to stay.
He snuck a glance at Haley as she repositioned herself on the couch, pulling the quilt back over her lap. He frowned as the heavy blanket fell over her legs, stealing his view of the little valley that ran between her thighs under the hem of her nightgown.
She was safe, and now that her initial fear had settled, he returned to his forgotten stew in the kitchen.
He stood in the kitchen and stirred the stew he'd been simmering for the last hour and laughed at himself. Here he was, the alpha of the oldest wolf pack on the west coast, cooking for a human woman.
How his hunters would howl with derision if they saw him standing at the stove, stirring the rich broth. Ruelle would come unglued and give him nothing but grief.
As Alpha, Daelan rarely had a chance to cook for himself. The pack lived largely as humans in the communal village that had been steadily growing for several centuries on private land. Most of the unmated pack members lived in the big house, while mated couples had begun to build separate homes nearby but everyone shared the endless work that was required to sustain the pack's independence, the large tracts of private land that made up their territory, and the privacy they needed in order to ensure they would continue to be able to retain their lifestyle in safety.
The kitchens were largely run by females. Even if he chose not to attend one of the communal meals that took place daily in the big dining hall, he was hard-pressed to escape the baskets of food that the pack's most eligible unmated females would bring to his private quarters.
Lately the only way he'd been allowed to prepare a meal for himself was when his scouting trips took him far from the den for several nights. It felt good to stand in Haley's kitchen preparing food for someone other than himself.
He thought of the look on her face when she'd seen the snow outside, the stress that furrowed her brow, followed by the relief when he said he would stay even though he knew he shouldn't.
Daelan wanted nothing more than to stay here tonight and the next night and the night after that. He wanted to taste Haley on his tongue and feel her body molded against his.
The wolf surged close to the surface at the thought and Daelan braced his hands against the cabinets above him to steady himself while he talked the beast back down.
This woman was different.
If he stayed, it would change everything.
Daelan was not sure he was ready for those changes. He knew the pack was not.
He frowned and ladled stew into a bowl for her. An uneasy feeling gnawing as his gut as he carried it to the woman sitting with her knee propped up beside the fire.
8
Haley exhaled and relaxed as soon as the shower water was running. Stripping off her pajamas, she stood in the corner of the old fashioned bathtub and fussed with the faucet knobs until the temperature was just right. Then she moved under the cascading water and tried to clear her mind.
Less than 24 hours and she already had cabin fever.
She reached for her body puff and poured the raspberry scented wash over it. The hot water rained down from the oversize shower head and the soap lathered richly as she moved the spongy tulle puff over her body starting at her neck and moving down.
Her nipples were rock solid. As the netting moved over them a spark exploded through her.
Ah hell, she knew it wasn't cabin fever. It was more like Daelan fever.
He didn't talk much about himself, but he turned out to be a great listener. He kept the fire roaring, he was handy in the kitchen, he'd taken care of her knee till it was almost back to normal.
She let her fingers brush across her nipples with one hand while she brought the puff lower.
He was also making her crazy. He stood too close to her, he stared too hard at her, he made her feel--
--horny, she interrupted her own thoughts by sliding a finger though her soap-slicked folds and sucking in a sharp breath. She bit her lower lip and nervously glanced at the door through the sheer shower curtain. She could see the little hook and eye lock had been secured. She let her eyes close and touched herself again.
She'd worked around some hot guys in her career. Doctors, paramedics, firefighters-- but she'd never met a man who made her feel like she was going to climb out of her skin if she didn't get him inside her.
After dinner last night, Daelan had sat next to her
on the sofa. Close enough that his thigh had rested against hers and she'd ached to have him wrap his arm around her shoulders. Instead, he'd pulled her feet across his lap and massaged her from the tips of her toes to the purple blue knee cap that didn't throb nearly as hard when he touched her as something else did.
He'd asked her about her life, her home, her family, her work, her hopes and dreams, and she had chattered on happily while silently willing his strong fingers to travel above her knees.
Haley stood in the shower and replayed the previous night while her own fingers did what she'd desperately wanted his to.
Before the power had gone out, his fingers had been a softly creeping promise that had gone unfulfilled even after he had put his hands on her again.
The thought of having his hands on her drew a moan from her throat and she pressed her fingers against her center and then let them slip back to circle her clit. She moved her feet slightly apart and stroked and circled, speeding up as she gave in to her need to release a little of the tension that had been building since he'd first pulled her out of the snow.
When she'd let the early morning light pry her out from under the warm down comforter on the bed this morning, she'd found him working to dig through the snow that had accumulated on the patio. It must have been 6 feet high against the side of the cabin.
He'd been working to dig a tunnel of sorts through it, making sure they maintained access to the fire wood.
He looked like he'd been at it for a while, a deep trench had been dug and he was bent over, scooping out the ice with a pan he'd found in the kitchen.
And Good Mercy if that man wasn't out there at the bottom of a 6 foot high trench in the wet, frozen snow, wearing nothing but those Carhartt cargo pants and boots.