Touch of the Wolf
Page 1
The kiss started deep, shattering her self-control…
Samantha knew then that she wanted to make love to this man, fast and furious, slow and sensual, both ways, all ways…
Luc made a sound low in his throat. The rumbling growl didn’t sound completely human.
She opened her eyes and blinked. Thousands of glittering fireflies suddenly swirled in a frenetic dance before her face. No. Not possible. She backed away.
Surrounded by flickering light, Luc made another sound, an animal cry, and tore away into the woods.
Despite her fear, Sam followed. The snow was deep enough that she could step into his tracks. Turning a slow circle, she realized the footprints stopped…and animal tracks appeared. Wolf prints.
A snuffling noise made her turn. A majestic, pewter-coloured wolf waited.
Available in May 2010
from Mills & Boon® Intrigue
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Touch of the Wolf
by Karen Whiddon
Sentinels: Wolf Hunt
by Doranna Durgin
Touch of the Wolf
By
Karen Whiddon
www.millsandboon.co.uk
Karen Whiddon swears she can sometimes communicate with wolves’ close relatives – dogs. Her two furfaced children are her closest friends. Having grown up in the Catskills and the Rockies, she enjoys shadowy forests and snow-capped mountains. Her hobbies include camping and fishing. In addition to writing, she works full-time as vice-president of a commercial insurance agency and makes her home with her wonderful husband and two canine companions.
You can contact Karen by e-mail via her website, KarenWhiddon.com, or by snail mail at PO Box 820807, Fort Worth, TX 76172, USA.
This book is dedicated to all the wonderful editors who’ve believed in me and helped make my stories better – Leslie Wainger, Tara Gavin, Patience Smith, Jessica Alvarez and, most of all, my wonderful editor extraordinaire Natashya Wilson. Tashya, you have a keen eye and a kind heart. Working with you is like a dream come true. Thank you.
Chapter 1
He’d come to Texas to find a healer, not a mate.
Appalled and shocked, Lucaine Herrick stared at the beautiful woman who might or might not be able to save his best friend’s dying little girl.
Samantha Warren. Potential healer.
He wanted to howl. To change, right then and there. To shed his human skin and feel the damp earth beneath his paws, the coiled power in his limbs; to give himself over to nothing but muscle and sinew. To run, his strength pushing him faster, harder.
Instead, he met her gaze and smiled. Smiled as though his heart wasn’t pounding. As though he didn’t recognize her.
If she was what his Pack suggested, a healer, then she was rarest of rare, the stuff of legends. A human woman, half shifter; a Halfling who couldn’t change, who was unable to become wolf. One look at her told him she had no idea of that. She didn’t know the power she had, the potential for great good residing within her.
He did.
Worse, in that first second when their gazes met, he’d known what else she was.
She was his mate.
No. Yet how could even a man who’d sworn never to marry deny the one woman created only for him?
Easily, he told himself. He had to be mistaken. Kyle’s death and the subsequent illness of three-year-old Lucy had combined to rob him of reason and common sense. After all, his doctorate in psychology had taught him there were deep-seated reasons for most delusions. True love ranked up there with the worst of them as far as he was concerned.
Thus armed, he moved closer to the unsuspecting woman. Even here, in this crowded café the lure of her pulled at him. How could this be? She was a redhead, while he preferred brunettes. Tall and slender and willowy, while he favored petite and curvy. The exotic tilt of her caramel-colored eyes might be lovely, though in the past he’d always liked blue eyes.
Samantha Warren was the antithesis of everything he found desirable in a woman, yet he could not deny her beauty. He took a deep breath, striving for steadiness, for calm. Her beauty was normal. After all, most Halflings were blessed with extraordinary good looks.
Yet never had a Halfling appealed to him as much as this one did. Hell, no woman had ever made him shake with the need to touch her. All because she was his mate, destined to be with him always.
Superstitious nonsense. Giving himself a stern talking-to, he took the stool next to her at the crowded café counter. He inhaled again and managed to give her a nonchalant nod before pretending to turn his attention to the breakfast menu. This close, he could taste her scent, sweet like honey, exotically tinged with citrus. Sexy. Again he battled the desire to touch her, to learn if her creamy skin felt as soft as it looked.
Hell hounds. He’d come to this small Texas town on a mission. He couldn’t afford to let a pretty face distract him.
Scowling, he forced himself to remember the grief-stricken expression his best friend, Carson, had worn when he’d given Luc the news about Lucy, Luc’s godchild and the daughter Carson had named after him.
Painful.
“Hey, surely the menu isn’t that bad, is it?”
Even her voice affected him, sending chills down the length of his spine. Looking up, he met her gaze, bracing himself against the onslaught of sensation, the fierce rush of need and want and longing.
“Pardon me?”
She smiled, the effect of which had him clenching his fists to keep from reaching for her. “You were giving the menu such a black look, I thought I’d offer you my breakfast recommendation. I eat here all the time, so I promise I’m well qualified to suggest something good.”
Struck dumb for the first time in his life, Luc swallowed, trying to gather his thoughts. “What do you recommend?” he asked, his voice sounded more like a growl than he’d intended.
Her lovely eyes widened, but she bravely leaned close, pointing to an item on the menu labeled “King’s Breakfast.” Luc barely suppressed a shudder when her long hair brushed over his arm.
Soft. So soft.
“This one is excellent. Lots of meat—protein. Of course, if you’re not a meat eater—”
“I am.” Was it his imagination, or had her voice softened, becoming breathless? Again, sharp desire stabbed him, waking his wolf.
Not good. Not good at all.
Ruthlessly, he forced away his need. He had a short time frame to learn the truth about this woman, or Lucy would die. He couldn’t allow lust to come between him and his quest. And lust had to be all this was. Finding his mate had no place in the scheme of things. Finding a healer did.
When the waitress came, he placed an order for the King’s Breakfast. Samantha did the same, chatting easily with the stocky woman in the pink, polyester uniform. When the woman moved off, Samantha turned her attention back to Luc. He felt the full force of her amber gaze like a punch to the gut.
“What brings you to Anniversary?” Smiling pleasantly, she seemed completely unaware of her effect on him. “Are you just passing through, or…?”
Now came the part he’d been dreading—his cover story. Luc hated lies, hated liars even worse. If he’d been allowed to choose, he would have barged in, confronted Samantha and hauled her back to Leaning Tree, New York,
on the first available flight. Even if the rumors proved false, if there was the remotest chance she could help Lucy, he’d take it.
His plan had been voted down. Though the Pack council felt otherwise, it wasn’t until they’d pointed out that healers couldn’t ever be forced to heal that Luc had reluctantly acceded to their wishes.
“I’m here to investigate the werewolf sightings,” he said, watching her eyes widen. “I’ve a meeting with a Samantha Warren at the library in—” he made a show of consulting his watch “—one hour.”
“You’re Dr. Herrick?”
At his nod, she held out her hand, laughing slightly, inviting him to share in the joke. “What an odd coincidence, running into you here. I’m Samantha Warren. Looks like our meeting just got moved up.”
Unable to tear his gaze away from her face, he slid his fingers around hers. Her skin was as smooth as he’d imagined, and he tightened his grip. With a puzzled tilt of her head, she stiffened, as if his touch had shocked her.
Despite that, he kept her hand securely in his.
Color bloomed in her face, her pale skin suffusing with rose. The urge to kiss her seized him—he actually tugged on her hand to pull her to him before realizing he was about to make a serious mistake, a fatal error.
Instead, he released her, forcing what he hoped was a pleasant smile on his face. “Wonderful. I’m so glad to meet you. I can’t tell you how grateful I am for your kind offer of help.”
She regarded him gravely, an unsettled expression flitting across her beautiful face. “No thanks are necessary—that’s what I do. Librarians and authors are always a good fit.”
Fascinated, he watched her blush deepen, as she realized the possible meaning of her words. They would be a good fit, if they were true mates, he thought. She’d sheath him as tightly as a glove, while he’d fill her with—His body instantly hardened.
Damn.
“More coffee?” The waitress returned, refilling their cups without waiting for an answer. “Your breakfasts should be out shortly.”
Unable to tear his gaze from Samantha, he nodded, and the woman moved away.
Blinking, Samantha shook her head as if awakening from a dream. “What were we talking about?”
“Your help with my research for this book.”
“Oh, yes. You’ll be glad to know I carry all of your books in our library here. The one on the Loch Ness Monster is a particular favorite with middle-schoolers.”
He barely registered her words. The only thought that consumed him was the need to cover her mouth with his and taste her lips. And more.
Breathing raggedly, he felt absurdly grateful when the waitress slid their breakfast platters in front of them with much clinking of silverware and china.
Samantha, too, appeared relieved, focusing on the meal in front of her.
For the next several minutes, Luc concentrated on his food, praying his body would settle down. The intensity of his reaction to her was far outside the realm of his experience.
The only family member who’d already found his mate was—Savagely, he bit off the thought. He missed Kyle. His younger half brother had married young, announcing to the entire Pack that Shannon was his mate. The two had been one of the happiest couples Luc had ever seen, until the illness claimed Kyle’s life. Now Shannon barely existed, a shadow of her formerly vibrant self.
Luc could identify. His biggest regret was his inability to help his beloved brother, despite his doctoral degree. Instead, he’d been forced to slowly watch him die.
If Samantha Warren was truly a healer, discovery of her abilities had come too late to help Kyle.
A healer. When his doorbell had rung at eleven forty-five one night a week ago, he’d been surprised to find a member of the Leaning Tree Pack Council on his doorstep.
“We’re calling an immediate council meeting,” Joe O’Toole had said. “Meet us down at city hall in half an hour.”
“It’s nearly midnight. What’s the emergency?”
But the man had already moved off and didn’t answer.
At city hall, Luc had been shocked to find half the town in attendance. Council meetings were always open forums, but with the timing and rushrush nature of this one, he would have thought most people would have waited to read about it the next day in the paper.
Frank Mahoney, who as mayor also served as head of the council, opened the meeting. “We’ve received some wonderful and disturbing news. We may have found a healer.”
The gathering erupted in noise. Such a thing would be almost a miracle; no healers had existed in this generation, nor the two before.
When the racket died down, Frank had continued. “As many of you know, the Barerras just returned from visiting relatives in Texas. Tomas Barerra changed and got caught in some kind of trap. Then, when he was fighting to get free, another wolf attacked him. Tomas thinks it was another shifter, but he couldn’t be sure. He was already wounded and completely unprepared. The wolf ripped him to pieces and left him to die.”
Luc had stood. “Tomas is only a kid. Where were his parents?”
“He’s nine, Luc. He sneaked off to have a change and romp through the woods. He had no idea there was any danger. Neither did they. Even when they realized he was missing, they weren’t too worried.”
“As you are aware, if he’d been full-blooded, he would have healed.” Samuel Moss, another council member, had picked up the story. “But since he’s a Halfling, he couldn’t heal himself. Tomas says a human male found him, still in his wolf form, and took him to an animal doctor. She called in another woman, one who touched him.
“He said he felt heat, a warmth spreading through him. A moment later, his wounds were gone, as was his pain. He was healed, just like in the texts of old. His parents saw the blood, the scars. This woman in Texas must be a healer. What else can it be?”
Again shouts of jubilation mingled with chatter. Frank gave the crowd a pleased smile. “We’ve unanimously decided Luc Herrick, as town psychologist, must go to Texas and investigate.”
Of course. Though still hurting over his brother’s untimely death, he’d been given the task of finding someone and something he didn’t even believe could be real. To him, a healer was merely an abstract concept, not a possible reality. At best, a myth. After all, if healers were real, why hadn’t God sent Samantha Warren in time to help Kyle?
He knew why they’d asked him. He had no family here, not anymore. In their own way they thought this trip might help him heal—as a practicing psychologist, objectively he knew they were right.
In the end he agreed to go because he needed something to do. Something to distract him. Maybe this had shown, too—the restless anger, the crippling feelings of inadequacy—all of this might be helped with a trip out of town. A quest.
Though privately, Luc believed they were wasting their time.
When the meeting finally ended a half hour later, he’d gone home and packed. The plane ticket Frank had pressed into his hand showed he was flying out in the morning.
On the long flight heading southwest, Luc had read the dry and dusty books he’d packed in his carry-on. His seating companion, a teenage girl who’d eyed the scholarly tomes with disinterest before opening her fashion magazine, completely ignored him. This made researching an easier task.
Nearly every text had something definitive to say on healers, but the material disturbed him. Instead of treating healers with healthy skepticism, the books discussed them as if they were not only an actuality, but constantly born into existence, if one searched diligently enough.
Worse, each book agreed on the details of the delusion. Healers were always born Halflings, and most of them questioned why they couldn’t change. They all performed healings first on small animals, both wild and domestic, before moving up to Halflings. Training honed their skills, but no one, from Pack scientists to Pack doctors, had been able to learn how their healing ability worked. Thus, they were considered blessed.
Luc had closed the last
volume with a wry smile. Maybe the next book he wrote would debunk this particular myth. Though it could be published only within the Pack, he’d consider it a community service.
Belatedly, he realized Samantha Warren had pushed away her plate, while he’d barely touched his breakfast. Suddenly ravenous, he devoured his eggs, bacon, sausage and ham, leaving the pancakes and toast uneaten.
She watched him with apparent fascination.
“Very nice,” he told her when he’d finished. “Thank you for the suggestion.” Then, waving away her protests, he proceeded to pay for both their meals.
She was his, after all.
Angered at the unwanted thought, Luc pocketed the check and steeled himself to look at her. He could only hope he was successful at hiding the fierce desire she made him feel.
“Would you like to follow me to the library?” Her troubled expression told him she didn’t relish the idea of further contact with him. “We open in twenty minutes.”
He nodded, holding the door for her. She took great care not to brush against him when she walked past, a move he noted and both regretted and relished, because he now knew she felt the connection as well.
Walking to her car with the tall, dark stranger behind her, Sam felt as though she was being stalked. Hunted, like prey. Dismissing her fears as irrational—after all, Dr. Lucaine Herrick enjoyed a stellar reputation as an author and a clinical psychologist – she kept her head high and her steps brisk. She didn’t like that she had to force herself not to look over her shoulder at him. And she sure as heck didn’t like her body’s unwanted response to his slightest touch.
Aroused, wanton, out of control.