“Snap out of it, Jean-Luc. I need you. She needs you, the wolf!” and she tried to pull him towards the animal.
“Yes, yes. What do you want me to do?”
“Put the noose on her so that I can support her under her ribcage while she vomits.”
Back to his normal self, Jean-Luc did what Sylvie asked and she tried to lift the wolf but the female was far too heavy for her. Sixty-five pounds of inanimate flesh. She let go and took the noose from Jean-Luc.
“Jean-Luc, you’ll have to lift her and hold her steady until she’s finished.”
The wolf heaved and heaved until Sylvie thought the very action of throwing up would kill her but at last, she gave a deep sigh and settled back down on the ground.
“What now?” asked Jean-Luc letting go of the wolf.
“We’ll have to take her in to the clinic and monitor her for a few days if she is to have any chance of survival. She will be severely dehydrated after the poison and the vomiting. It’s good you brought the sled with you. If you take the loop, I can muzzle her while she is semi-conscious and we can pull her back to the car.”
“And the others?” asked Jean-Luc. “By law we should take the bodies in for post mortem but I don’t see how we can manage ten cadavers in this snow, and it’s going to be dark soon. There’s no way the helicopter service will come out at this time of night and on the side of a mountain, too.”
“Help me get the female into the sled. I need to put a thermal blanket on her and tie her down and then we’ll deal with the others.”
It was Jean-Luc who came up with a workable solution once the female wolf was secured on the sled.
“We’ll have to bag the bodies and put them in the cave, cover them with snow to preserve them and then pile some of those loose rocks and stones on top like a cairn to keep the scavengers away. We’ll come back for them when the snow begins to melt in the spring.”
Sylvie agreed. “The p.m.’s are not going to add anything to our knowledge. We know what killed them and there is no way we can trace what I presume is common or garden rodent poison available in any shop or supermarket?”
“You’re right,” said Jean-Luc as he busied himself with shaking out the body bags.
“I’m just going to scoop up some of the female’s vomit and regurgitated food so that I can get the particular poison identified. That would be useful in case we come across any more cases and it is the same killer. At least I will know which antidote to use.”
Sylvie filled three plastic bags and added them to her kit. As they bagged the bodies, she cut an ear off each wolf to provide blood and fur samples for DNA analysis. When the last one had been hidden away in the cave, Sylvie sank to her heels in the snow with her hands over her face. Exhaustion gave way to a deep soul-wrenching sorrow. Great silent heaving sobs started in her belly; she fought to contain them but in vain. Before long, she was crying loudly, her whole body shaking with the force of her emotion, emotion she had held in check while she carried out her professional duties.
Her collapse brought Jean-Luc to her side. He sank down beside her and cradled her in his arms, rocking her back and forth to comfort them both. They would probably have sat like that all night, so flattened and devastated were they, if they hadn’t felt the snowflakes drifting down. Another snowfall and they were hours from their vehicle with a sick wolf to ferry back. They had to get going and soon.
They helped each other to their feet and loaded up their backpacks, switched on their miner’s flashlights. Jean-Luc took up the towrope for the sled and they started back to the car.
The journey drained what little energy they had left. The temperature had plummeted and the snow reduced visibility to a matter of feet. Sylvie could barely see Jean-Luc in front of her. When they reached the stream, he stopped and tied her to a cord, which he wrapped round his shoulders. Much as they needed a break, Jean-Luc said they should push onwards - no coffee, just energy bars they could nibble while they struggled through the ever-deepening drifts of snow.
After two hours of stumbling along through the barrage of icy flakes, the snow petered out and the ghost of a winter’s moon appeared, shining a cold metallic light off the new banks of snow. At any other time, it would have been beautiful but they were both close to exhaustion, counting their footsteps to keep going. Sylvie stumbled and fell, tripping over her snowshoes as she lacked the energy to place them far enough apart. The tug on the cord brought Jean-Luc up short.
“Sylvie,” he croaked through frozen lips, “only a few more yards. I can see the car. We can get in out of the cold. Pick yourself up, there’s a good girl.”
She peered ahead and wonder of wonders, the car was there - with snow up to the windows but still it was there.
As soon as they reached it Jean-Luc took the snow shovel off the roof and cleared away the snow from the back doors and the exhaust pipe and then from the driver’s door, leaving the rest for insulation.
They put the wolf into one of the cages in the back of the vehicle and while Jean-Luc stowed their gear away Sylvie fixed up a saline drip and tucked the alpha female up in the thermal blanket. Then they could turn their attention to themselves.
Jean-Luc started the engine to get the heater going while Sylvie set up their camping stove on the floor of the cab. She heated up hot milk, added cocoa and honey, and laced it with cognac. They took their time sipping the hot drinks, allowing their bodies to warm up and their minds to calm after the heightened tension of the past few hours.
Sylvie drained the last drop and put her mug down. “That was amazing. I can feel the heat going right down to my toes.”
“Lucky we still have toes. That was one helluva trek. Don’t think I’ve ever been out in such harsh conditions. How’re you feeling?”
Sylvie gave a slow stretch as far as the confines of the vehicle would allow.
“You mean apart from being completely whacked out physically, and drained emotionally?”
Jean-Luc grinned. “It was tough, wasn’t it? But we saved one of the pack and that’s something to be proud of.”
Sylvie leaned back against the door and looked at Jean-Luc, shaking her head slowly in disbelief.
“I don’t know how you manage to keep on with this job. Don’t you find it soul destroying that you can’t stop the killers?”
“Of course, I do. You saw how overwhelmed I was when we found the den. But the more wolves they kill, the more determined I become to catch these bastards.”
He rubbed the back of his neck as he went on. “This particular massacre is unusual; most times the poacher or killer will attack only one animal, like the wolf whose collar we found. And they use guns not poison.”
“You think this is a new trend?”
Jean-Luc reached over and patted Sylvie’s leg to reassure her. “I certainly hope not. Now, would you like a military instant meal? We have boeuf bourguignon or lasagna?”
“Don’t you think we should be getting back?”
“Not a hope tonight. You can see how deep the snow is. Even with the depth-poles all along the side of the road and a 4 x 4, I am not going to risk it tonight. I’m afraid we’ll have to spend the night in my trusty old Range Rover. That’s if you feel you can stand my company.”
Sylvie put on a serious face. “Do you snore?”
Jean-Luc gave her shove with his hand. “Not if I can help it. Now, which gourmet dish would you like?”
“Lasagna for me, please.”
“Right coming up,” said Jean-Luc as he lowered his seatback to reach the storage compartment behind the back seat. “Red wine?”
“You have wine out here on the mountain in the middle of a blizzard? How very French. Red will be fine. Just have a look at our passenger while you’re there.”
Jean-Luc slid the glass open on the partition and peered into the darkness behind.
“She’s still out for the count and I can see the tinfoil catching the moonlight as it moves up and down so she’s still breathing.”
&
nbsp; He slid back into his seat and handed Sylvie her meal. They pulled the tags and waited the required time while Jean-Luc poured out two glasses of wine.
Sylvie picked up her glass and clinked it to Jean-Luc’s, saying, “Here’s to the success of le Projet Loup,” and drank down half her glass in one go.
Jean-Luc finished his, refilled it and raised it in salute, “Down with all wolf-killers.”
The lasagna smelled delicious and tasted as good as it smelled. Sylvie set her empty tray down on the floor and waited for Jean-Luc to finish.
“What else have you got in that box? I’m still hungry?” she asked.
Jean-Luc had another ferret about. “There’s a camembert and some rusks. Guess that means another bottle of wine.”
As Sylvie accepted a chunk of the soft smelly cheese, she was surprised to find that she was enjoying herself. She had warmed up, the ache in her muscles was slipping away and she felt good about rescuing at least one of the wolves. And the wine was excellent; in fact, the whole impromptu picnic was fun. How many girls get to spend the night marooned in the middle of a snowstorm with a guy as hot as Jean-Luc?
Woah, girl! This is your boss, your prickly, moody boss. Keep your distance. Slow down and go easy on the wine.
Jean-Luc topped her glass up. “What are you thinking about? You look as serious as a nun?”
Dammit. She was going to blush. Maybe Jean-Luc would think it was the wine.
She shook her head, “Sorry. Guess I’m tired. Too much wine and fresh air. And I have to –”
“Have a pee? Can you face the cold outside? You take the back of the car where I’ve cleared the snow and I’ll take the front.”
13 : Inclement Weather
They put on their winter kit again and edged out of the driver’s door. It was so cold Sylvie was as quick as she could be but Jean-Luc had still beaten her back into the car. As her side hadn’t been cleared of snow, she had to slide across Jean-Luc’s lap to get back into her seat. She was halfway across his knees, trying her best not to be conscious of his warm male body beneath hers, when he put his arms around her and halted her progress.
She struggled but he held her fast. “Come on, forfeit time,” he said in a light teasing way.
“Jean-Luc, let me go!”
“Not till you tell me the name of your last boyfriend.”
All at once, the fight went out of her and she sagged in Jean-Luc’s arms not saying a word.
Jean-Luc slackened his hold on her and with great gentleness eased her over onto her side of the car. “Oh, Sylvie, I’ve gone too far. I’m so sorry. It was only a bit of fun. I had no idea I was going to strike such a raw nerve.”
Sylvie raised her chin and took several deep breaths. ”It’s all right. It’s not you; it’s me. Recent history and all that. I’m still trying to handle it. I did tell you about it, if you remember”
“Me and my big mouth. Say you’ll forgive me.”
Sylvie had to laugh at the clown’s face he was pulling.
“Jean-Luc, it’s fine, really. I’m over him but every now and then something catches me unawares and wallops me right back to how I felt at the time.”
Jean-Luc held out his hand. “Shake? I’ll try not to intrude again.”
Sylvie accepted his gesture with an attempt at a smile. “Shall we sort ourselves out for the night now? It’s been a long day.”
Jean-Luc showed her how to slide her seat forward and then put down the back. He took two sleeping bags and a couple of pillows out of the storage compartment and tossed her one of each. Sylvie didn’t need telling to push her discarded clothes down to the bottom of the bag to keep warm during the night; she was used to camping in the cold, but she did ask Jean-Luc if he was going to leave the engine running all night. He told her he had an auxiliary tank of fuel designed to provide ten hours’ running time. It was good to know they weren’t going to freeze to death.
“All set?” he asked and when she nodded, he switched off the cab light and let his window down a couple of inches for ventilation.
Sylvie scrunched down into her sleeping bag and lay going over the day’s events in her mind. She couldn’t tear her thoughts away from that first sighting of the dead wolves. The cubs had been particularly heartbreaking. Such a painful, pointless death. She looked over at Jean-Luc. He was fast asleep in the steely moonlight shining through the car window. Perhaps it was the fatigue, or the wine, or the remote cold moon but she was sad, so sad. She missed the togetherness she and David had had. She was surviving on her own, it was true, but she was so lonely.
She gave herself a mental shake. Tears weren’t far away for the second time and she didn’t want to surrender to self-pity; she had been so strong and professional all day. Her throat stiffened with the effort of trying not to cry, but she couldn’t keep the tears away and they gathered in her eyes. They made her nose run until she had to hide her head under her pillow to keep from waking Jean-Luc every time she had to sniff.
The seat dipped beside her. She turned quickly, snatching off the pillow, to find Jean-Luc leaning over her with a thoughtful expression on his face. “What’s wrong, Sylvie?” he asked and then he shook his head. “As if I need to ask.”
She made an attempt to wipe the tears away but they kept on coming. “Didn’t mean to wake you. Everything just got too much for me.”
Jean-Luc scooped her up into his strong arms, sleeping bag and all. “Don’t worry about it. Let me give you a cuddle until you feel a little better.”
The human contact and his unexpected kindness began to assuage her distress and her tears slowed down. It felt good to be held so firmly. David, her mother, her homesickness, the baby wolves, were all still there in the back of her mind, but Jean-Luc’s nearness was shifting her level of consciousness to other things: the warmth of his body, the smell of his skin – so close – a faint trace of floral aftershave overlaid with fresh strong male sweat, and the sudden realization that they were breathing in tandem.
“Is it working?” he asked, his voice soft and gruff.
Sylvie sniffed again and tried to wipe her eyes, but he stayed her hand and bent down to kiss his way up from the corner of her mouth to her eyes where he licked away her tears.
To her surprise, Sylvie felt herself respond to his caresses. She gave a feline stretch, letting the sensation flood from her centre and down through her limbs, and she offered up her lips to him.
He was slow to accept her invitation, taking his time to drop little kisses all over her face and then down her neck and up to the tender spot behind her ear.
Sylvie couldn’t wait any longer. She took hold of his head in her hands and pushed his face away a little so that she could halt his trail of gentle kisses and see deep into his eyes. They were a dark mysterious deep, deep blue. A slight tremor of uncertainty questioned the wisdom of her next step but then he smiled - a smile of understanding, a smile that touched every muscle of his face and lit up his dark eyes from beneath with the blaze of desire.
Sylvie found herself smiling back, all hesitancy gone. “Kiss me, Jean-Luc,” she said.
He brushed his lips over hers in salutation and she arched upwards to take his tongue deep into her mouth.
He broke away and backed off a little. “Are you sure this is what you want, Sylvie?” he asked.
She let out a breathy, “Yes … tonight,” and reached up to pull him back down to her again.
“Hang on,” he chuckled, “I’m freezing to death here, half in and half out of my sleeping bag. Unzip yours and let me in and we’ll use mine as a cover.”
He stretched an arm behind him towards the glove box and opened it. “I’ll get the necessary while you do that,” he said, rifling through the contents. He found what he was looking for and tucked it under Sylvie’s pillow.
Sylvie meanwhile had done as instructed and then shucked herself out of her T-shirt and tossed it down to join her clothes on the floor. She waited quietly for Jean-Luc to join her, wondering if she was doing t
he right thing. She had never been one for casual sex and had only ever made love to David. The newness of the experience made her feel awkward and she crossed her arms over her naked breasts, overcome by a sudden bashfulness.
Jean-Luc eased in close beside her and drew the quilted bag over them both. He blew on his hands before drawing the cover down for a moment to look at her in the moonlight. He stroked her arms several times with a delicateness of touch, skimming the backs of his fingers from her shoulders to her elbow and then up to her wrists. Sylvie’s uncertainty diminished with each pass until when he covered her hands with his and coaxed her arms away from their defensive position she let him draw them down to her side where they lay unresisting. Feeling his eyes upon her breasts, her nipples tautened in response and she ached for him to touch them.
“You are beautiful, Dr Latour, you’ve no need to be shy,” he said and still holding her arms down, he bent his head to her breast and took her nipple into his mouth, alternating between a gentle sucking and a forceful tonguing, sending sharp darts shooting from her belly down to her thighs and up again. His face blurred as her eyes lost focus and his long sweet-smelling hair swung to and fro tickling her sensitized nerve endings.
A sensation of molten heat flooded out from her core to her limbs and a desperation to be more closely connected with him swept over her. She wanted to run her fingers through his beautiful silky hair, but he still held her fast.
“I want to kiss you, Jean-Luc. I need to kiss you,” she whispered.
He let go of her wrists and pulled up the cover, saying, “So you’re all right now?”
She smiled in answer, lacing her fingers behind his head to draw him down to her, but he didn’t give her what she wanted straight away. He teased her with a sprinkling of tiny kisses around her eyes. He made her wait while he caught her bottom lip between his teeth and gave it little tugs. All the time he was running his hand up and down her body, stopping now and then to skirt around the center of her femininity.
Sylvie felt wonderful but she needed a deeper emotional connection, a sense of togetherness, however transitory. She pulled his hair. “For heaven’s sake, kiss me,” she demanded.
Waking the Wolf (Coup de Foudre) Page 10