Heart of the Winter Wolf

by Heart of the Winter Wolf (pdf) (lit)

  "It's kind of like flying," she said at last. "You were right about closing my eyes. It's amazing how not being able to see where I'm going actually helps me find my balance. Must be a Zen thing."

  "Must be." He knew it was Jillian and not Zen that was affecting his own inner stability, however. She both knocked him off-balance and grounded him, simply by being near him. It was a volatile mix, and if he wasn't a lot more careful, he would fall.

  Chapter Twenty

  Jillian was catching on quickly. He could see her begin to anticipate the horse's movements. She could sense when Toby was turning and the direction, even feel when the pace was about to change. But through it all James was very aware of her. Her hips were wedged firmly into the vee of his legs, his thighs dwarfing hers. There was little space between her shapely little bottom and his groin. His hands tightened on her waist in spite of himself, although if it was to hold her away or pull her closer, he couldn't say. The only thing he was certain of was that his jeans had become very uncomfortable.

  "Why are you always so hot?" she asked suddenly.

  "What?" He really should stop glancing down at her backside.

  "Your body heat. You're always so warm."

  "High metabolism." His voice came out thick. He needed a distraction, but his brain wasn't working again. "Family trait. Does it bother you?"

  "No. No, it's kind of nice, actually. I like it."

  She nestled back into him, making him fight to stifle a groan as his body reacted. God, she felt good. "You're doing really well, doc. Ready to try it on your own?"

  "What? Wait!" She grabbed at his hands.

  "I'm not leaving. I'm just going to move back a little and let go of you, okay? I'll still be right here. Put your hands up like before."

  "All right." Jillian let her arms rise out from her body like wings. "I'm ready. I think."

  James let go of her waist and eased back from her body, putting some welcome inches between his throbbing groin and her enticing little butt. The relief was enormous, but it slowly dawned on him that the distance between them was an illusion. The sun was low in the sky and cast golden lights into Jillian's hair. She was beautiful as she sat so perfectly poised in front of him, moving as the horse moved. He could feel that she was in perfect sync with the horse now, beginning to instinctively shift her legs, as well. And he could feel her enjoyment blossom into joy. For a few perfect moments she was in harmony with everything around her, and that harmony seemed to radiate from her and into him. He could hardly breathe, feeling her presence as if it was part of him. The curious connection seemed tangible--and transcendent.

  James let the moment draw out as long as he dared, then reluctantly slowed Toby to a walk. Jillian opened her eyes and looked back at him, but he managed to dodge her gaze. He knew he couldn't muster a defense against those green eyes, not at the moment. Maybe not at all.

  "Is he tired? Do we need to stop?" She lowered her hands, and James noted she now rested them on her legs instead of seeking Toby's mane again.

  "It's a bit more exercise than he's used to, and he's carrying two of us. We're going to head down the coulee to the river. The horses can drink and the grass is good there."

  "What the hell's a coulee?" She sounded if he had made up the word.

  "City girl," he teased. "The coulees are the steep sandstone ravines that drop down to the river. They're eroded by rain and melt water, full of caves and fossils. Bears and cougars, too."

  "Really? Do you think we'll see any wildlife?"

  "Well, it'll be twilight by the time we're done." And just what was he doing, he wondered, heading further away from the farm? The horses could be watered in their corrals just as easily, yet he couldn't bring himself to head back there yet. "Animals tend to move around more then, at dusk and at dawn. Maybe we'll get lucky and see some."

  I hope so.

  What? He lifted his head and regarded her. For a split second he was certain she hadn't spoken aloud. Then he shrugged it off. Imagination. Had to be. He couldn't even hear his own brothers' thoughts unless he was in wolf form.

  * * * *

  Twilight had already come to the deep valley at the bottom of the coulees. The sky far above was gold fading to mauve, and the evening star was bright in the south. A faint breeze stirred the leaves of enormous trees, grown tall with ample water and rich soil. The river itself was smooth and glassy, reflecting the golden sky.

  Jillian inhaled deeply, taking in the cool air, rich with scents-water, earth, green and growing things, abundant life, forest primeval. She watched as ripples appeared here and then on the river, fish seeking insects. Swallows darted low along the water and ducks could be heard somewhere nearby. There was a timelessness here, she realized. It could be 2007 or 1807 or 1407 and look just the same.

  "I guess that's why they call it the Peace River," she said aloud. "For being so big, it hardly looks like it's moving."

  "Looks are deceiving. The locals call the river the Mighty Peace. It's calm on the surface but the water beneath is deep and moving very fast. A lot of swimmers misjudge it and end up caught in the powerful current. Some of them don't escape."

  She was quiet for a long time after that. James was very much like the river. Calm and steady on the surface, but somehow she'd been drawn in and captured by the deep current beneath. Would she escape? And did she really want to?

  All she'd known when she arrived at the farm was that she was tremendously attracted to this man. But when she'd decided to act on it, the results had been shocking. How could she have known a kiss could have such power? How could something as simple as the joining of lips flare all at once into a fusion of souls? And God, that sounded so corny. But it wasn't just any kiss. If James hadn't stepped back when he did ... well, she wasn't sure she would have stopped him, and that was a little scary. He was still a stranger, wasn't he?

  No. He might be a little strange at times maybe, but he was definitely not a stranger. She couldn't explain how she knew that, but she knew. That kiss had been less like the 'gee-I'm-physically-attracted-to-you' sort and more like the 'there-you-are-at-last' kind. Recognition, she decided. Almost reunion. The physical desire was strong, but she realized that wasn't the only force driving them. At least, it hadn't been the only force driving her.

  If James wasn't a stranger, then what was he, exactly? She knew that she felt good around him, solid and grounded. Not less herself but somehow more. No one had ever made her feel quite like that.

  "A dollar twenty-seven for your thoughts."

  "What?" She blinked up at James.

  "Your thoughts are worth a lot more than a penny, doc, but a dollar twenty-seven is all I have on me."

  She stood perfectly still then, just looking at him. He could so easily pass for a Viking from another age; the pale blond hair, the close blond beard that accentuated the angles of his face rather than obscured them; the broad shoulders and tall powerful build; the piercing blue eyes. The longer she looked at him, the more she realized that it was what was in the eyes that called out to her, pulled at her. His brow was often fierce and forbidding, and his eyes could be, too. But there in their bottomless blue depths there was more, much more-knowledge, pain, passion-and tenderness. This was a man who felt intensely, who would love deeply. She still didn't know everything about James Macleod, but Jillian also knew she wanted to learn.

  She simply stepped into him then, slid her arms up and around his neck, and tipped her face up to be kissed. She wasn't disappointed. His lips were hungry and so were hers. He demanded and she yielded. She demanded and he gave. Heat flared, raced over both of them like a brushfire over dry prairie grass, until skin and blood were alight.

  James hiked her up until her legs circled his waist, supported her with a powerful arm while one hand slid under her shirt and palmed a breast, kneaded it as he traced her lips with his tongue. Jillian captured his tongue for a moment, drew it into her mouth with exquisite slowness, released it as he groaned deep in his throat. His hand on her
breast became more demanding, his fingers teasing the nipple unbearably. His other hand cupped her bottom and squeezed it again and again until she began to move against him. Even through her clothes, it was electrifying to rub herself against his hard abdomen. A throbbing tension was growing low in her belly, a pleasurable restlessness building. She wanted more. She wanted the flame, the heat. She wanted to burn down in James' embrace. There was a moan in the back of her throat as she arched against his powerful body, as he shoved her shirt, her bra, up and out of the way. The moan broke free as he left her lips and bent his head to her naked breast.

  He lapped and teased at it with his tongue, breathed hot on the nipple until she shivered with pleasure. Then without warning James set her feet on the ground, sank down himself until he was kneeling before her. He undid her jeans and kissed her belly, undid the bottom button of her shirt and lapped at her navel. He worked his way up until no buttons were left--and Jillian couldn't stand it anymore. She pulled off the shirt, then unhooked her bra. Tossed it. Wriggled off her jeans and kicked them away. Saw the punch of surprise and the flash of arousal in James' eyes. And reveled in the sensation of this man's strong hands on her bare skin. His mouth sealed again over a breast, hot and moist, drawing in the nipple, tugging at it. Began to suckle hard and strong. Yes, oh yes. Jillian held his head to her, fingers locked in his hair, her whole body shaking with waves of sensation. God, yes. James' calloused palm circled her belly where strange pulls and tugs deep within her core echoed the insistent tugging at her breast.

  All that was left of the sun was a fading glimmer of color on the far horizon. The first stars were already making their appearance and the moon was on the rise. Here, among the trees, the shadows were blue and purple. Her skin was snow in the strange half light. But within, she was pure flame.

  James pulled back a moment, shrugged out of his shirt. Stood and skimmed off his jeans. Jillian nearly moaned at the sight of his naked body. He was even more gorgeous than she had dreamed. Every muscle was powerful, defined. He was broad in the chest, in the shoulders, but there was an animal grace to his movements. Her gaze traveled appreciatively over his body and came to rest on his long, hard erection. Tentatively, she reached out a hand and ran her fingers over it. Her mouth quirked as he hissed in his breath between his teeth, as she saw those powerful muscles quiver.

  Smooth, so smooth-kid leather over polished stone. She slid her hand over the rigid length of him and closed her fingers tightly, savoring the strength and hardness of it. And hot. James's body radiated heat but this was fire itself. Jillian's body clenched suddenly at the thought of just how that fiery shaft might feel deep inside her ... and for a moment she had to fight to breathe.

  She didn't see James move. She blinked and she was surrounded with his strength, with his heat, wrapped in those muscled arms and held close. Skin to skin, head to toe, as his shaft pressed and pulsed against her belly, as his big hands roved over her backside. Then just as suddenly he scooped her up and walked away with her through the trees and into a small clearing.

  "It's a little softer here," he murmured and kissed her brow, her cheek, before easing her down. Jillian had expected grass but found herself lying on something surprisingly soft and spongy. She felt around her in surprise.

  "It's just moss," James answered her unspoken question, then rested on his elbow beside her. He leaned over and took her lips before she could think of any more questions, ran a hand over the contours of her body, followed it with kisses over her breasts and belly, then palmed the moist curls between her legs.

  She was restless and edgy now, needing, needing. And he knew. He ran his hand between her legs, long lazy strokes that reached all the way to her tailbone and back. He gradually kissed his way down until he was nestled between her legs, then lifted her hips in his large hands until he could rest her knees over his broad shoulders. He bent his head and ran his tongue along the delicate crease of her thigh, slowly, much too slowly. Jillian almost whimpered. She shuddered hard with the anticipation, every nerve shouting for James to hurry, please hurry, gasping for air as her heart pounded in her ears. She could just make out his face in the shadows, see him smile as he bent his mouth to her, sampled her, savored her, then drank her greedily.

  A guttural cry was ripped from Jillian's throat. The sudden storm of pleasure had her gasping, made her body pitch and buck like a small boat caught in a rough sea. Sensation flooded her, swamped her with monstrous waves so racking and intense that she shook with the power of them. She exploded into the sky, into the sun, pulsing with a wave of heat that rippled outward until the very clouds were set afire.

  When awareness returned, Jillian found herself lying beside James, looking into his Viking blue eyes. She blinked a few times to focus, feeling stunned but managing a shaky smile. He kissed her soundly, wrapping her up in his strong arms, anchoring her, keeping her from floating away. Safe.

  "Wow." She didn't know what else to say, didn't trust her voice anyway. She wasn't too sure about the rest of her body either. Languor. That was the only word that seemed to fit the state her body was in, a deep luxuriant languor. Jillian was certain she was no longer lying on the bed of moss, but rather, was draped over it like an empty coat. Perhaps she had burned up after all, from the inside out. No bones left, just the hide.

  "I feel like limp spaghetti," she blurted out.

  James chuckled. "I think I liked 'wow' better."

  She grinned and brushed his hair out of his eyes. Saw that those eyes had softened, filled with warmth and humor. She saw something else in them, too. The fire was still raging.

  James nuzzled her ear and took the lobe into his mouth, suckling it as he had her breast. A heated hand circled her breasts, her belly, nudged her legs apart and began to stroke her folds. The orgasm had left her intensely sensitive, and Jillian trembled beneath his touch, could hardly bear it. He murmured into her ear, tickling it with heated breath, and her entire body clenched and quivered. He pulled her closer, and Jillian felt his fiery hot erection pressed against her thigh. A finger slid inside her, explored as she moaned. Two fingers pressed deep, deeper. Her hips rose of their own accord, thrust hard against his strong hand, but it wasn't enough. She was aching all over, edgy and wanting. Needing...

  Jillian whimpered aloud when James took his hand away, but his muscled body was welcome as it moved over her. She welcomed the heat and the weight of him, welcomed his face over hers, framed by the starry sky. Welcomed his powerful legs nudging hers wider apart. And moaned with a kind of delicious exultation as he entered her. She felt herself slowly parting before the fiery heat, giving way, stretching to take the fire into herself until she had all. It was bliss, luscious bliss, to be filled so completely. James paused there, eyes closed as if also savoring the sensation. He was still for a heartbeat, then two.

  Then he began to move. The exquisite friction begat a deeply primal pleasure and Jillian became a wild thing, digging her fingers into the muscles of his buttocks, pulling him into her, thrusting her hips to meet his rhythm. She panted out a plea for more, more. A soundless vibration began to resonate within her, within him, as if a tidal wave of unimaginable proportions was bearing down on them.

  Harder, faster, deeper. "Come with me, Jillian," he panted. "Come with me now."

  Battered, wave-tossed, lost at sea, she heard his words above the thunder of her blood, the roaring in her ears, and instinctively linked her fingers with his. She arched to meet the strength of his body, the power of him as he filled her. As he both moved her and anchored her. As he was both storm and haven. They rode the cresting wave together, a pair of dolphins skimming above the powerful surf until the ocean suddenly fell away and they flew free.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Birkie appeared at her elbow, arms folded. "Okay, something's seriously wrong here. Carlton Fuller's herd is sick because he was too cheap to vaccinate again, and you spent fifteen minutes explaining to him how that 'doesn't make good economic sense' instead of kicking his so
rry ass from here to Winnipeg. Why?"

  "Because it doesn't make sense from a business standpoint. If he--"

  "I know that. What I want to know is--why isn't he dead?

  Jillian looked baffled. "Well, I thought I'd try an educational approach..." She trailed off at her friend's expression.

  "You, my dear, have either had a complete breakdown from overwork or you've finally gotten some serious nookie. Which is it?"

  "Do we have to call it nookie?"

  "We can call it whatever you like as long as you tell me about it."

  "I'm not going to give you a play-by-play."

  "I'll settle for details on events leading up to and immediately following. Your apartment after closing. I'll bring the chocolate."

  "Deal."

  * * * *

  He was the world's biggest idiot. What on earth had made him think that he was in control, even for a moment? Oh sure, he'd set his path, chosen his course, and satisfied himself with checking in on Jillian at the clinic. Briefly, always briefly. Just long enough to assure himself--and the wolf within--that she was fine, that she was safe. And yeah, he could admit he looked forward to catching a glimpse of her or hearing her voice, sometimes watching her work or maybe saying hello. But that was all the contact he had permitted himself, all he had planned for. Not for one moment, not for a single fraction of an instant, had James anticipated that she would show up at the farm.

  Still, he could have avoided trouble if only he'd had the sense to shorten the tour, certainly if he hadn't taken her riding, definitely if he had turned them back to the farm instead of heading down to the damn river, and most of all, if he'd just avoided looking in those big green eyes of hers. Any of those sensible steps, taken in time, would have prevented what had happened last night. Wouldn't they?