Scarred Mate

by Maggie Mundy

  EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ®

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2017 Maggie Mundy

  ISBN: 978-1-77339-418-3

  Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

  Editor: Melissa Hosack

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  For my husband Alan, and my daughters Jenny and Rachel who are my greatest fans.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  I would like to take this opportunity to thank all the people who have made this book possible with their help, support, and encouragement.

  Thanks also to my critique partner, Delwyn Jenkins who has been one of my greatest supporters, and has always been generous in sharing her time and knowledge. I also want to thank my number one fan, Suzanne Terry for her Chapsupport and encouragement and the odd nag to write even more books.

  I would like to express thanks to all members of The South Australian Romance Authors and The Romance Writers of Australia for the support and encouragement. These groups make the dream of publication possible for so many.

  I acknowledge the support from my fellow Evernight Publishing authors who share their knowledge and expertise. They are truly a wonderful group that I am proud to be a part of.

  Special thanks go to my editor Melissa Hosack whose patience and understanding during the editing process was outstanding. Thanks for believing in me and my story.

  Last but not least I would like to thank all the people at Evernight who bring their excellence and expertise in the area of publishing.

  SCARRED MATE

  Romance on the Go ®

  Maggie Mundy

  Copyright © 2017

  Chapter One

  Rosie rolled over and thumped her pillow. Where was a good hot dream when she wanted one? The past two weeks she had enjoyed the same dream of having sex with what she could only describe as a well-endowed man. Tonight, insomnia crept in and he was nowhere to be seen. Men, you couldn’t even trust the dream ones not to let you down.

  Her body fidgeted as she stared at the ceiling. This was her last night in the apartment, and yet six months ago her life had been on track. A lover, Jaime, a job as a cop, and a future looking great. Now she was alone, about to go into hiding, and jobless. Now was not the time to feel sorry for herself. She needed to get away before anyone else got hurt.

  Come on woman, you need to relax. She controlled her breathing and let the thoughts of the past wash away for a little while. There was nothing she could do to change it. Her eyes grew heavy.

  Her dream man was back again and she was straddling him, his hard cock deep inside her pussy. It stretched her but with a good pain as she moved up and down on him. Her body was hot and wet, and she did a little twist with her hips as she descended on his shaft.

  He let out a groan, although it sounded more like a growl. “Touch yourself,” he said, in a deep voice, making her shiver with delight. Her dream was always in darkness. All she could do was hear and feel. Though, hearing and feeling were good when her dream lover gave the best dream orgasms ever.

  Rosie slipped her hand between her legs and felt him penetrating her. Then she flicked her clit, so it sent little spasms through her body. She put her other hand on his chest as she steadied herself and moved up and down. Her fingers traced the rough knotted tissue of scars. Her dream man’s body carried damage like hers.

  He ran his hands up her sides, encouraging her movements. Her breath quickened as her orgasm built. The sensations spread throughout her body as she pumped up and down. He bucked beneath her and screamed his release.

  As the throbbing slowed, she moved gently up and down to take whatever he had left to give her. Her dream lover cupped her scarred cheek in his hand. She never let anyone touch her face in real life, but her scarred lover was different. She leaned forward onto his chest and listened to his steady heartbeat as he rubbed her hair. This was bliss, but it wouldn’t last. As always when she went to sleep, her lover disappeared and would be replaced by a wolf who sat beside the bed with his head resting next to her hands. She would drift into a dream sleep with her hands touching his fur.

  Rosie awoke and threw off the covers as sweat cooled on her body. It sucked to be alone, but it was the only way she could keep people safe. There would be no room for a man in her life unless he had a death wish. She would be out of here in the morning.

  ****

  Rosie shoved the last of her clothes into the case. Her uniform used to be the neatest on the force, which was the past. The rest of the boxes were already in the van. Plus, many items had gone to the thrift shop. At least some good for others might come out of this mess her life had become.

  Tracey stood by the counter crying.

  Rosie needed to be strong and not let anyone change her mind, no matter what her friend said. She needed to get away. Jamie’s old associates were after her. She wouldn’t let Tracey or anyone else get hurt. Call it her protective cop side.

  Rosie hoped her dream lover followed her to the house in the woods. If she couldn’t be a cop, then maybe she could be a writer. She would pen her memoirs and include him in the story to make it more erotic. Maybe one day when all of this calmed down she’d become famous. No, she didn’t want people looking at her and saying, “Yep, she’s that writer with the scarred face. You know the one. Nobody knows where to look when they talk to her.”

  Tracey blew her nose loud enough to make Rosie check to see if there was an earthquake warning.

  “What if you get sick? Okay, I need you to come back from this retreat or whatever. I know you keep saying I’ve been there for you, the truth is I need you around.”

  Rosie loved Tracey, but couldn’t explain she was doing this for her benefit. Rosie’s hand massaged her temple as the pain hit again. Her fingers moved over the scars and tight skin on her right cheek. Her pulse thudded and everything, including her brain, thumped. Staying here caused stress and she needed out.

  “I’ll be fine. If I’ve any problems, I’ll call. I promise. Now, grab that box and help me.” She had no intention of calling anyone, no matter what happened. Once the last box was in the van, she headed back to check nothing was left behind.

  Rosie locked the door on the apartment and dropped the keys off with Mrs. Bertram downstairs. The older lady cried and it pulled at her heart strings. Rosie pulled some tissues from her bag and handed them over. Mrs. Bertram hugged her and then Rosie headed back to the van.

  Tracey stood there with her sad hound dog face. “You said you’d be back for Thanksgiving. Don’t let me down or I’ll send out a search party.” Tracey blew her nose again.

  Rosie needed to get away before she changed her mind.

  The headache eased as she left the city. She loved Denver, but it wasn’t her home anymore.

  Driving into the mountains, Rosie wanted to absorb the energy and peace. God knew, she needed to throw off the weight of the past, a little bit, no, a lot. Or at least until it caught up with her again. Life and love with Jamie had been idyllic, but in truth she hadn’t known him at all. The cops at work kept telling her he was a loser, but Jamie had a way of making her feel special. Now looking back at all the romantic dinners at home, she realized he isolated her so gradually she hadn’t picked up on it. She knew the M.O. but hadn’t considered she would have fallen for it.

  Six months ago, he showed he
r the surprise plane tickets to South America. How the hell could she have been such a fool and known nothing about his involvement with drugs? Now she wondered if he chose a cop as a girlfriend for protection, like she would have been his personal security guard. It hadn’t worked out that way. He was dead.

  She glanced at the rear view mirror. The farther she got away from Denver, the fewer cars she saw. She loved not feeling hemmed in anymore. There was a truck stop on the side of the road and she pulled over. Rosie wound down the window and stared at the tall trees surrounding her.

  Was she making a mistake? Was Tracey right? No. This was the only choice. When she’d come back from South America, Rosie had believed Jamie’s associates were dead from the explosion. She was scarred but free. Now she knew that wasn’t true. The thugs obviously believed she knew something. Rosie just didn’t know what. When her colleagues looked things up, all records said the guys were deceased. If that was the case, then who the hell was threatening her?

  She took a deep breath of mountain air, put the van back in gear, and headed off. Two hours later the turn off for Shadow Lake was up ahead. Rosie stopped in the town center on the edge of the lake and let the beauty seep into her bones. She should have done this before. The town’s amenities were great, but she needed more solitude. She filled up with gas, but didn’t need any food. There was enough in the van to last a month.

  “Where you heading?” the man behind the counter asked.

  “Not sure. Just moving on till I find somewhere.”

  “Well, I’m sure we’ll see you when you come down for groceries if you decide to settle around here.”

  “Thanks.” Once a person left the city, everyone wanted to know their business.

  As Rosie left the shop, she heard the man’s wife whisper, “Pity about the face. Looked like she might have been pretty once. Nice red hair. I suppose the wildlife won’t care what she looks like.”

  Rosie slammed the van door and turned on the ignition. Damn it, but her eyes watered. She didn’t want to care what people thought, but she did. Tracey had always been the tall, skinny, and pretty one when they were growing up. It hadn’t bothered Rosie back then. Rosie’s boobs and hips showed off her hourglass figure to good effect. She’d always managed to get a guy when she wanted one.

  The scars were different. All the years as a cop made her tough, but now she looked like a freak. Bringing delinquent kids in off the street and being called creepy began to get to her after a while.

  In the backwoods, no one would care and she didn’t need to come back to town for a while. The store owner came out and waved to her and Rosie put on her best fake smile. Well, smiling never worked as her right cheek didn’t move, so it was more of a one sided grimace. What she actually wanted to do was stick her tongue out or give him the bird, but that would be childish. She was such a control freak she couldn’t let the feelings come through.

  The GPS said it was about four miles to the turn off for the cabin. She gripped onto the wheel and slowed down as the road got steeper and windier. If she met a car coming down, she might drive off the edge. What the hell am I doing? I hate heights. Her family spent holidays at the cabin when she was young, but it had been rented out for years. It seemed a blessing when she got the letter saying it was vacant.

  The radio crackled as the signal went and Rosie shoved a CD in the player of her favorite rock band. She sang loudly and out of tune as she continued up the dirt road. She slammed on the brakes as a deer ran across in front of the car.

  “What the fuck,” Rosie yelled, veering to the side of the road. Coming to an abrupt halt, her head hit the car window. The world went hazy as the pain reverberated through her skull. She ran her fingers over the bump and thankfully there was no blood. This was not a good start.

  The deer stood on the other side of the road. It peered at her as if she were some sort of alien, then bounded off into the trees. Thanks a lot. She got out of the van to inspect the damage.

  “Shit.” She kicked the rear tire. The back end of the van hung over the ditch with nothing for the tires to grip onto. It was a long walk back to town, and she didn’t want to see people again anyway. Rosie stood in the ditch and pushed the van. It didn’t budge. Where was her superhuman strength when she needed it? Oh yeah, that’s right, she didn’t have any.

  All she managed to do was increase the throbbing pain in her head. There were some painkillers in her bag. Rosie sat in the van and swallowed down the pills. Resting her head back against the seat, she squeezed her eyes shut. This wasn’t going the way she planned. Then again, her life never did.

  “What the fuck?”

  The van creaked and shuddered. Rosie grabbed onto her seat, wondering if she now had to deal with an earthquake causing her to topple over the edge. Maybe she would die. Sometimes she wondered if it would’ve been better to die when the car exploded in South America. Footsteps ground on the gravel road beside the van. Her heart thumped so hard, she thought it would jump right out her chest. Her training took over as she reached for the gun in her bag. She was in the middle of nowhere and a stranger or maybe a group of them were outside. Fuck, she thought she would get to the cabin first and set up defenses, not this.

  Rosie held her breath as the steps got closer. This was ridiculous. Whoever they were had helped by pulling her van out of the ditch. For reassurance, she kept her hand on the cool metal of her gun in the bag. Why would they hurt her? That was easy to answer. There were idiots everywhere who wanted to hurt people because someone had done them wrong. Rosie glanced out the door to see the shadow of huge person on the road, or maybe it was the light playing tricks on her. Nope, it was real.

  Nothing could have prepared her for the sight of the man who stood next to the open door. He had to be six feet tall and looked like a wall of muscle in his tight t-shirt. Even his jeans encased well-built thighs. His brown hair was cropped close to his head and his face was unshaven.

  Rosie had seen enough tough guys on the beat as a cop and his menacing look and piercing brown eyes should have intimidated even her. It didn’t. For some reason, calm oozed through her as she let out a long breath. It must be the knock to the head sending her loopy. She even took her hand off her gun.

  Rosie left the van with clenched fists, ready for what was to come. As usual, things didn’t go to plan. Her legs went to jelly when her feet touched the ground. Everything went fuzzy and the world tuned to black.

  Chapter Two

  Conner moved fast to grab the woman before she hit the road. His whole body responded to touching her. Tingles zoomed through him as if electric shocks were spreading out to his fingers and toes. As he stared at her, Conner could almost envision the bond between her chest and his like a shining white cord.

  What the hell. He was imprinting. Connor hadn’t thought it would ever happen, and if it did, no one would want him. He was a loner, with a body covered in scars. Any female wolf would be repulsed by him and fight the attraction. The thought of a woman being tied to him and staring in pity would be too much to bare.

  All of that aside, he could not tear his gaze away from the woman in his arms. Her face was scarred. The Moon Goddess had to be playing a cruel joke on him. Sending a freak for a freak. That was unfair. He didn’t even know the woman. For now he could only hope the Goddess knew what she was doing. Did this woman want pain? He could give her that.

  He might not be in wolf form but his sense of smell was heightened. The aroma of apples came from her red curly hair that was pulled back in a ponytail. Her face was pale except for a sprinkle of freckles across her left cheek and nose. No freckles could be seen on the scarred right cheek. She obviously had a tortured past, just like him. He should leave her alone. She didn’t need his shit. It was already too late for that. From the moment he held her in his arms and their skin touched, he was lost in the overwhelming connection.

  The woman stirred in his arms. Her eyes opened wide as she suddenly realized what was happening. It was too late now to stick her
back inside her van. He didn’t want to anyway.

  “It’s okay. I’m Conner Reed. You fainted.”

  The look of fear lessoned, but her breathing stayed rapid as her breasts moved up and down. He had an overwhelming yearning to touch her breasts and every part of her body. Instead he asked, “Do you think you can stand?”

  She nodded and he let her legs down. She wobbled and he held onto her arms and pulled her close again. She smelled good as she peered up at him with glazed eyes.

  “My name’s Rosie Quirk. I’m sorry. I’m still a bit fuzzy. I banged my head when I went into the ditch. I haven’t eaten all day either.” She wobbled again.

  He scooped her up and took her to the passenger side of the van. Any excuse to hold her close would make him happy. He let her feet down again.

  “You good?”

  She nodded in reply.

  Conner opened the door and helped her inside. “Where are you going?” he asked as he settled himself in the driver’s seat and moved it back to accommodate his long legs.

  She appeared to hesitate before she answered. “I’m staying at the Corbett Cabin.”

  “Maybe I should take you back to town and get checked you by a doctor.”

  “No. I don’t like doctors. I’ll be fine,” she said, abruptly.

  He had obviously touched a nerve. “I’ll drive you to the cabin then. That okay with you?”

  She nodded. It seemed neither of them liked to talk much, which suited him. He just wanted to be near her for a bit longer. He drove the ten minutes up the road to the cabin.

  Rosie huddled against the car door. Connor considered she wanted to get as much space as possible between them, which was fair enough. She clutched onto her bag and he wondered if she had a gun inside. He didn’t like firearms, but knew most people carried them. He was a stranger sitting in her car, even if he had helped her.