Unused to relationships with human females, Danielle walked out of the diner feeling dazed and confused.
Outside, Nick was leaning against his truck, the heel of one cowboy boot propped on the wheel. His arms were crossed over his chest, forcing the buttons on his shirt to strain. His hair was messy—he made Lothar look like a snob.
Lothar.
She’d told him she might stand Nick up. Knowing him, he was probably coming back for her. Her stomach hurt. Her head ached. She seriously thought she might be sick.
Really, truly, not faking it sick.
Right on cue she heard the van pull up behind Nick’s truck. She hoped Lothar had control over his temper. Please have control of your temper. Nick scowled at Lothar through the windshield. Lothar scowled at Nick.
He did not have control.
“I’ll take care of this,” Nick said, pushing away from the truck.
“No.” She stopped him, her palm flat on his chest. He was warm and solid, and suddenly she wanted to curl up in his arms. “Let me talk to him. Things could get ugly between you two.”
Nick ducked his head toward hers. “If he hasn’t made his move on you yet, then maybe he deserves to lose you.”
“Let me deal with him.” Backing off, Danielle went to the van. Lothar rolled down the window. She picked up on his scent immediately. Come with me, it seemed to say.
Lothar’s fingers gripped the steering wheel. “Stay or go,” he said from between his teeth. “Decide quickly. I can take only so much.”
He was ripping open her insides, causing her physical pain. She pressed her hand against her stomach.
The breeze shifted and Nick’s smell wafted over them both. It spoke to her, go with me.
Lothar growled, his eyes darkening to black.
If he lost control and hurt Nick, he would face more than a trial. He’d be on death row. Attacking a Carrier in a battle of supremacy was strictly forbidden. It didn’t matter who Lothar was, who his uncle was, or that he was descended from the first High Councilor to ever take the seat of power.
He would be sentenced to death.
She had to go. There was no other option.
“This isn’t finished,” she said.
Turning from him, Danielle went to Nick’s truck and got in, Nick following a moment later. He glanced through the rearview mirror at Lothar as the van pulled away.
“You okay?” he asked quietly.
“Sure,” she lied.
He pulled away from the curb. “You didn’t know did you?”
“Know what?”
“That he loved you?”
“He doesn’t,” she said defensively. “Not like that. I’m like a sister to him.” Danielle winced. No one kissed their sister like he had.
Nick watched her from the corner of his eye. “No, he’s got it bad. You know it too.”
She sank back against the seat, her head pounding. No, no, no. Nick was wrong. She couldn’t even begin to fathom this.
“I need to talk to him about it,” she said. “But I don’t know how.”
“His English isn’t that bad. Well, yes, it is.”
She shook her head. “That’s not what I meant.”
“I know. I’m the wrong person to ask though.” He blew out a breath. “Never mind. I’ll tell you, anyway. Ditch him and stay with me. At least I’m willing to tell you exactly how I feel.” He clicked on the blinker as they waited at a stoplight. “I want you to know, that if you’re in some kind of witness protection program, I can take care of it, and you.”
The conclusion he’d come to made perfect sense given his background. He turned down a street then took the ramp onto the highway. Danielle wasn’t sure what to tell him.
He passed a minivan, then a semi.
She checked the speedometer. “You’re going a little fast.”
He eyed her, then let off. The semi overtook them and he fell in line behind it. “You throw me off-kilter, baby.”
When Nick called her baby, it breathed out of him like a sigh. When Lothar called her darling, it rolled off his tongue possessively, as if what he’d really meant to say was my darling. Mine.
“Guess you have some choices to make,” Nick said.
“It would seem so.”
They sat in silence for a time. He pulled down an off ramp, then took a right through another small town. There was silence in the cab until the truck wheels hit a gravel road.
“I never asked where we’re going,” she said.
“Place my dad you used to take me.”
“In the forest?” She looked out the window at the tall pines encasing them on both sides.
“I thought you would prefer it.”
“I do. Thank you.”
“Maybe I like not having to share you with anyone. At least not for a little while.” They were climbing a hill, the wheels spitting gravel behind them. “I should have warned you we’d be hiking today.”
“How far?”
“Maybe an hour.”
“That’s nothing for me.”
She unbuckled her seatbelt and got out. Nick took the picnic basket and she met him in front of the truck.
Danielle smelled the air. It was ripe with pine needles and fresh spring water. Warm-blooded mammals. Fortunately, she’d already eaten.
He took her hand and she followed him onto a trail into the woods. He had warm, calloused hands that weren’t the least bit clammy. Unlike hers.
They walked in silence, but his silence didn’t bother her. It was enough, just to be.
Eventually, the path became a deer trail. They ducked branches and he helped her over fallen logs. Finally, they emerged at the top of a cliff that dropped into a ravine. Runoff trickled in a dozen mini waterfalls all around them.
“It’s beautiful,” she said.
“Thanks.” He set aside the basket and shoved his hands in his pockets as if he wasn’t sure whether or not he should touch her. “My dad used to bring us here.” His eyes were distant.
“I’m sorry about your brother.”
“I didn’t bring you here so you can feel sorry for me.” He held out his hand. Danielle put her fingers in his and he drew her closer, tucking her head under his chin. She closed her eyes. With him, she felt almost human, and it felt surprisingly good.
Chapter Twelve
“You don’t have to go,” Nick told Danielle as they sat in his truck at the cabin.
Everything had started out perfectly, what with her waiting for him downstairs at the diner. He didn’t even care about the minor confrontation with Lothar. Giving her over to another man wasn’t exactly the desired ending however.
She looked at the cabin longingly. The sun was setting and a kerosene lantern glowed from a window over the sink as if inviting a lover home.
Which it pretty much was.
Nick knew he should back off, let them sort out their own lives. So why was it he wanted to knock every tooth out of Lothar’s mouth instead?
“I can’t go home with you,” she said. “It’s just not my thing.”
“Yeah, I’d guessed that.”
“You’re being very patient.”
“Regular Boy Scout,” he gritted.
“Tell me what’s going on in your head.”
“You really want to know?”
“Or maybe not.” She shifted on her seat.
“Not that.” Well now it was, since she’d brought it up and all. “I was thinking about how I wanted to fight Lothar for you.” He laughed and loosened one hand from the wheel. “It’s not the kind of thing I do.”
She pushed the door open, avoiding that particular subject, apparently. “Thank you. I really enjoyed today.”
Closing the door, she made her way to the cabin. A chill crept through the truck from the fall air. Nick watched her rub her arms. She looked needy. And he needed to touch her.
“Oh, hell,” he muttered.
He got out and walked up to her. She turned, and he slid her into his arms.
“I don’t like you living here with him,” he breathed.
“Yes, I can understand that.”
She pushed out of his arms and planted one palm on his chest as if keeping him at bay. He couldn’t say as though he blamed her. He was losing his mind. Why should she let herself go down with him?
“Goodbye, Nick.”
“Yeah.” He took a step back. “Goodnight.”
She waved, staying right where she was until he got in the truck and pulled away.
“I need to get a grip,” he told himself. “She’s a big girl. And she’s been with Lothar,” he gritted his teeth, “for a while now.”
He needed to let her make her own decisions. He wasn’t even one of those guys, the kind that smothered a girl.
By the time he’d pulled up to the diner he felt more like himself. He’d come home to get to the bottom of Jason’s death, not stalk a beautiful woman.
Grabbing Kendra’s picnic basket, Nick went in. He found Greg at his usual spot at the counter. Steph slid a slice of pie his way, her eyes lingering before she was called off by one of the good old boys in need of another draft.
Nick took the stool next to Greg. Greg paused with his fork halfway to his mouth. “How’d it go?” Fork continued to mouth.
“As if I’d actually give you the details.”
“Not good then, huh?”
Kendra came and took up her picnic basket. “I’ll find out what really happened later.” With that pleasant news, she went into the kitchen.
“Wonderful.”
“What?” Greg asked.
“I thought a friendship between Danielle and Kendra would be great for both of them.”
“Great for them. Bad for you.”
Nick propped one elbow on the counter. “Could be the case.” He winced.
“Really bad then?”
“If you call my turning into a complete idiot every time I’m with her bad.”
Steph put a plate in front of Nick. “Steak and potatoes. It’s the special. Don’t worry, it’s well done.”
“Thanks.”
Greg’s gaze slid carefully over Steph, then back to his plate.
“Ever consider taking her out?”
Greg blinked at him. “What, like a date or something?”
“Yeah.”
He shrugged. “She’s out of my league. She wouldn’t go out with me.”
“Oh, I think you’d be surprised.”
Nick cut into his steak. He wasn’t particularly hungry after polishing off four chicken salad sandwiches, but he ate anyway. The steak reminded him of Danielle, and that made him wonder what she and Kendra would have to say about him behind his back. Nick frowned at his meal then shoved his plate aside.
“You’re not going to eat that?” Greg asked.
“No.”
He slid the plate his way and dug in. “I will.”
Nick looked out the huge front window, through the decal of a robin on a tree branch sitting next to a nest with three speckled blue eggs. The sun had fully set and stars dotted the sky. A chill washed over him. He’d felt that way before, when something was about to go down.
Leaving Greg, he went to his apartment and loaded his pistol. He tucked a can of bear repellant into his back pocket. Hey, who knew, maybe there was a crazy bear out there, somewhere. He doubted it though.
Nick walked into the forest.
* * *
Danielle left Nick in the driveway and went up the steps to the cabin. It had been a nice, minimal contact day. She didn’t want to ruin it. She purposefully didn’t look back, in case it prompted him in any way. It wasn’t her intention to make this whole situation any more difficult than it already was. She liked Nick. Probably a little too much. But Lothar was, well . . . Lothar.
And now it was time to face her other male.
She opened the door, glad for the burst of warmth from the wood stove. Lothar was bent over his toolbox, picking up for the night. She tested the air, wondering if his scent had gone back to normal.
It hadn’t gone back to normal. He was pretty potent as a matter of fact, kinda musky, like the stags in mating season.
Her heart raced.
She didn’t know what to say, wondered if he knew about this change. She took off her sweater and hung it over a chair, hesitating while she stared at shadows on the wall from the lantern.
“I had to go,” she said, closing her eyes for a moment, trying to gather herself. It wasn’t working. After taking an embarrassingly long time, Danielle turned to face him. She looked him over. His button up shirt was blood red, the sleeves rolled back and the top three buttons loose. He was wearing expensive jeans that fit him perfectly, probably sent over from Europe by his sister. As usual, he looked hot.
He held out his hand. “Come.”
She crossed over to him. “I think my hands are sweaty today.”
“Today?”
She growled.
Smiling, he took her hand, closing fingers that were decidedly not clammy over hers. He pulled her in, kissing both her cheeks in greeting. She knew very well this was how he kissed his sister—yet she’d secretly relished the gesture for years anyway.
He’d taken the gauze pad off the bite. It was beginning to heal, but bruised over. It would take a few days for his magic to repair the damage.
“Looks like it hurts,” she said.
“Is worth it.”
“Are you sure?” she whispered, referring to more than the bite.
“I am sure.” He led her toward her bedroom.
Her skin was in flames at the very thought of him and a bed together. “Lothar?”
“Do not tempt me,” he growled over his shoulder.
Why not, she thought to herself. Maybe I should.
He stopped, then tugged her past. She had to squeeze between him and the bed. His eyes, black, followed her where she touched him. She heard his pulse race even as heat ran a path through her body.
He turned his gaze to her face, staring as if seeing someone new.
“What?” she asked self-consciously.
He pressed his lips against her forehead, breathed her in even as his own scent embraced her like they were, finally, skin to skin. She lifted her chin, could feel his breath warm on her face.
“I knew,” he mouthed.
She looked at him questioningly.
“I have known how you felt.”
He’d known how she felt? “For how long?”
“Long time.”
Danielle pulled away, needing time to process that. She realized what he’d been doing all day. He’d cut out part of the wall and was building her a private bathroom.
“I will install water heater tomorrow,” he said from behind her.
“Lothar,” she choked, turning to look at him.
“It will make cabin worth more when we leave.” His brow furrowed, and she knew he was hiding from her. “This is no way for you to live,” he finished, the man behind the mask showing. “It never was.”
“I was the one who made you live this way. It’s my fault you’re a Hunter to begin with.”
“It was uncle’s doing, not yours.”
Danielle went into her little bathroom. Little being relative. It was as big as her bedroom. It had bare walls and bare pipes.
“Is as far as I got today,” he said.
Her eyes burned. Before she could stop herself she felt a tear roll down one cheek.
“Do not cry about it, Darling.”
She turned, hesitated, then brushed by him and into the main part of the cabin. Danielle stood there, staring blankly at the wall.
“Your hunting skills are too strong to waste on me,” he said from behind her a moment later. “You should have children.”
“Now you sound like your uncle.”
“Maybe I am my uncle.”
She winced, because she knew he wasn’t, and that she never should have suggested it. “You’re not. You are Lothar Ludvitski.”
She heard his s
ardonic laugh. “Heir to High Seat.”
“No.” She turned to face him. “You are your own man.”
“If I were free, things would be different.”
“How different?” she dared ask.
He tilted his head toward her bedroom door. “Separate beds went out of style long time ago.”
She smiled through blurry eyes. She’d needed very badly to hear that. “That was just on TV anyway.”
“Thank God,” he growled. He went to the window, blowing out the kerosene lantern.
Her sharp eyes adjusted to the dark.
“You must be hungry,” he said.
“Yes.” Oh, yes.
Were they talking about the same thing? Probably not. He was closing her out again. She thought maybe she knew now that he did it in self-defense, to save his heart, which was his most vulnerable area. His clinical mind was the only protective barrier he had. Without it, he’d be completely defenseless.
He opened the door. There was more to say, and yet, she had no idea how to say it. She followed him onto the porch, shivering.
Lothar turned to face her. He gathered her hair carefully off her shoulder, ran his thumbs across her moist lashes.
She stared at him, mute.
“I understand,” he said, even though she hadn’t said anything.
He drew her into him and cradled her in his arms. She tucked her cheek against his chest, devouring the closeness and the warmth, smelling him, feeling anew a mix of emotions she couldn’t begin to comprehend.
“Your scent has changed,” she said.
“Yours has not.”
She tried to pull away but he kept her trapped there.
“If you don’t,” she said. “I mean, if you’re only doing all this because you feel bad for me.”
He tucked her head back under his chin. “You have smelled like this for some time.”
“But that doesn’t make any sense.”
He released her, stepping off the porch. “We could not have gone on like this forever.” Lothar turned to look up at her. “You are as flawless as when I first saw you. Look at me.” He spread his arms. “But you have spent more time as wolf than I.”
And it had decelerated her aging more than his.
“When did you . . .” She still couldn’t say it. Seriously pathetic, Danielle.
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