Jane Jamison

by A Wolf's Lust

  She took in the medicine cabinets as well as the equipment and several cots that she assumed could serve as either gurneys or hospital beds. “What kind of clinic is in a basement?”

  “The kind we don’t want everyone to know about. And yet, almost everyone does.” Reed’s laugh echoed around the room. He was solidly built, as tall as Blake, with muscled arms that his denim shirt couldn’t disguise. His longish dark-blond hair feathered his face and brought her attention to the stubble on his chin.

  She glanced at the other man. Normally she didn’t care for unshaven men, but stubble on these guys looked sexy as hell.

  “See how much I already trust you?” Blake snaked his arm around her waist and pulled her closer. “Otherwise, I never would’ve brought you here.”

  She inhaled, drawing in his very masculine scent that was akin to musk mixed with the aroma of the woods. Without realizing it, she touched his body then leaned against it and set off an instinctive urge to swipe her tongue over his mouth.

  Holy shit. Get a grip.

  She eased away and hoped he hadn’t noticed how she’d let her tongue slip between her lips. “I don’t understand. How does the health department sanction a clinic in the basement of someone’s home?”

  Blake pulled her along with him toward the doctor, who had moved on to speak with the pregnant woman. “That’s where the trust comes into play. We aren’t sanctioned by anyone.”

  “Are you telling me this is an illegal clinic?” She took a fresh look at her surroundings. Most of the equipment looked as though it had seen better days. And the patients? The patients struck her as a bit out of the ordinary now that she’d taken a harder look.

  One man had thick, dark hair covering not only his exposed arms but his neck and face. Another woman, who was thin to the point of emaciation, had startling golden eyes. The pregnant woman smiled, exposing extra-long eyeteeth.

  “You’ve got it. But mum’s the word.” Reed came to her side, sandwiching her between himself and Blake.

  Her hormones sizzled to life, and her pussy twitched. Heat flamed between her legs, and if they’d been alone, she would’ve grabbed Blake by his collar and Reed by his hair then pulled their mouths to her nipples. She dragged in a breath and let out a long, shuddering sigh.

  “But why? Why have an illegal clinic and risk the consequences, including possible jail time? Why not do it the legal way?”

  Blake dropped his arm from her waist and took her hand instead. “Because some people, especially in today’s financial climate, can’t afford to see a doctor. They don’t have medical insurance, or they’re out of work, or they just need a special kind of doctor that knows how to treat their particular…symptoms. Not everyone wants to go to the emergency room.”

  The doctor, dressed in the stereotypical white coat, had on a black shirt and black jeans followed by black boots. He spoke to the pregnant woman in a language Sam didn’t recognize then swiveled in their direction. “What happened to your hand?”

  Sam glanced down at her hand, having forgotten her injury. As though signaling her wound to speak up, the throbbing pain started again. “It’s not a big deal. I cut my hand on a pair of scissors. Don’t worry about it. I can take care of it at home.”

  “Take a look at it, will you, Victor? I think she might need stitches.”

  The woman who acted like a nurse lifted her head then shot Victor a sharp look before she hurried up the steps. The sound of footsteps crossing the floor above them ended with the slamming of the front door.

  “Was it something I said?”

  “Don’t worry about her. Mysta doesn’t like new people. Especially not pretty new people.” Victor stuck out his hand, waited for her to give him her hand, and lifted his eyebrows. “Let me decide whether or not you need stitches. I’m Victor Lassiter.”

  “Samantha Chambers. Call me Sam.” She offered her hand, and again, the sizzling tingle swept through her. It was everything she could do not to crush her mouth against his.

  He gently undid the makeshift bandage. After examining her wound, he lifted his gaze to hers and promptly took her breath away.

  His eyes were green but not an ordinary color of green. They glittered with bits of silver and shone with the same intensity that she’d seen in Blake’s and Reed’s eyes. He was wirier in build, but she could feel the strength he exuded from his gentle touch.

  “I don’t think she needs stitches.” He spoke to Blake but kept his attention on her. “Wash her hand thoroughly with warm water and soap, medicate it with antibiotics, then wrap it with a sterile bandage this time. Try putting ice on it to help reduce the swelling.”

  Blake took her by the arm, but Victor hadn’t released her yet. Instead, he narrowed his gaze and slid his other hand up her arm. “You’ll stay for dinner.”

  She wasn’t sure if he’d given her an invitation or an order. “No. Thank you, but I can’t.” Still, a part of her wanted to say yes.

  The corners of his lips lifted in what she sensed was a rare smile. “You can, and you will.”

  “Okay.” She needed to thank him, and if having dinner would do that in a small way, then she’d stay. Besides, she wanted to get to know them better.

  Blake tugged her on the arm, breaking her focus away from Victor. He took her over to seat her on one of the few true examination tables in the room. After washing her hand as Victor had directed, he attended to her wound. She held back a cry, but he caught her wince.

  “How about I give you something for the pain?”

  She nodded. “But nothing too strong. I have to drive home.”

  “Don’t worry about it. We’ll take care of you.”

  In a matter of seconds, he’d opened a bottle and handed her a pill. She took it with the Solo cup of water he gave her.

  She dragged in a slow breath, taking in Blake’s amazing scent again, then smiled as she watched Reed help a small child with a scraped knee. Illegal or not, she could tell that Reed, Blake, and Victor were taking care of people the best way they could.

  She watched as Blake rubbed a soothing ointment over the red gash in her palm then expertly wrapped it in a new bandage. Another wave of desire flashed through her as she watched first Blake, then Reed, and finally Victor.

  Three of the hottest men she’d ever seen were also three caring and giving men, even if they were going about it illegally. She swallowed and, for the first time in a very long time, undressed first one then all three men with her eyes. They all had the kind of bodies women dreamed about, but she doubted they cared much about their appearance. Each of them could’ve been cocky as hell about how great they looked, but she didn’t catch one ounce of obnoxious cockiness from them. They were confident, but the confidence came from a self-assurance few people ever obtained.

  She checked them out again, comparing Blake’s ass to Reed’s, Victor’s intoxicating gaze to the other two men’s eyes. They had striking similarities in the way they handled themselves and the strength that oozed from their pores, yet they were different, too. Blake was easygoing, yet he had moments where he seemed to shut down, putting up an invisible wall. Reed was the funny one, as he chatted with the patients and flirted with young and old women alike. Victor, on the other hand, was the strong silent type. His penetrating glances made her uncomfortable but not in a bad way.

  They were men who possessed the perfect physical attributes mixed with three intriguing personalities. Had she lucked onto three great men?

  * * * *

  “I really shouldn’t stay for dinner.” She sat at the rough-hewn table that was better suited as a picnic table. The pain pill Blake had given her had done the trick, and her hand no longer throbbed. She flattened her other hand over her stomach as the hunger growled, calling for food.

  “Of course you should. Victor wants you to. We all do. Besides, you’re hungry. I heard your stomach growl.” Blake stirred a large pot of spaghetti. “Besides, it’s not like it’s anything fancy. Although I do have to admit some women have beg
ged me to make my famous spaghetti dish.”

  She couldn’t help but smile around Blake. He was quick-witted and often funny in a not-so-overt way. “Is that true or just what you tell the girls? Or do they rave about your cooking to get someone else to cook a meal for them? As waitresses, Loren and I argue over who’s going to make dinner every night. We both hate cooking.”

  He pulled several spice bottles out of the cabinet and made a show of turning his back to her so she couldn’t see which ingredients he used. As if she’d ever try to steal his recipe. “Would you like to invite Loren over? I always make enough to feed extra people.”

  “Thanks for the invitation, but she’s already at work.”

  “No problem. We’ll get Loren over here another time.” He bent to check the meatballs cooking in the oven then slathered a heaping mound of butter on the loaf of Italian bread.

  She was just about to ask him how he kept in such great shape while eating meals packed with carbs when Reed came up from the basement with a woman and two small children. The woman was almost as shy as the kids and scurried past Sam and into the living room. Sam tried to make eye contact with the woman and her kids, but they kept their heads down.

  “How’s your hand doing, Sam?” Reed opened a cabinet and started pulling out plastic food containers. “Is it ready, man?”

  “I’m doing fine, thanks to you guys. What are you doing? If you don’t mind me being nosy.”

  Reed held out a container for Blake, who took it and forked a heap of the spaghetti into it. He poured sauce out of the other pot into another container and handed them back to Reed. Reed winked as he went into the living room, said something Sam couldn’t understand to the woman, and gave her the containers. The woman let out a huge sigh of relief and kissed him on the cheek. Bringing her children closer, she let herself out the front door.

  “Okay, now you’ve got me even more intrigued.”

  Reed slid into the chair beside her. “About what? Go ahead and ask away. We’ll answer any question. Just don’t ask about Blake wetting the bed until he was ten.”

  “That’s a bald-faced lie, Sam. You’ll have to learn that Reed tends to lie when it serves his means.” Blake tossed a towel at Reed, who caught it and tossed it back.

  Reed laughed. “Anyway, go ahead and ask.”

  “Tell me about the clinic. How and why did it start?” She wasn’t one to break the law, but if that was the only way to help people then she could imagine going outside the system.

  “We started it about a year and a half ago.” Reed grew serious. “With jobs being as hard as they are to find, and with some people not wanting to go to a regular doctor either because they don’t have the money or they just don’t want to be a part of the system, we saw the need and filled it. Victor’s a great doctor, but I’ll tell you up front that he no longer has a license to practice medicine. He got into trouble in New York City when he refused to treat a powerful elected official instead of helping a poor slob who had no insurance and no money. The rich asshole trumped up charges against Victor. He claimed he’d stolen drugs from the hospital, which got him thrown out of the hospital as well as the profession. Victor couldn’t prove his innocence, so he took a deal where he lost his license and moved out of state, avoiding any jail time. He shouldn’t be practicing here, but we don’t think it’s right to waste someone with Victor’s skills when people really need help.”

  “Wow. This really is an underground clinic.”

  Reed slapped his hand on the table. “See, man? Sam thinks the name fits, too.”

  “But where do you get the supplies, the medicines?”

  Reed shrugged. “Here and there. We have a couple of silent benefactors who give us money. Plus, with me working at the hospital as a janitor, I can borrow a few things without anyone knowing.”

  “Borrow? Or steal?”

  “Borrow, steal, call it what you will. Where there’s a will, there’s a way.”

  “So now Victor and you are actually doing what Victor was accused of doing.”

  Reed’s face hardened. “The way we figure it, Victor paid the price for a crime he didn’t commit. So why not go ahead and do the crime? Besides, it’s all for the greater good.”

  She sat back, thrown by what she’d learned. “And the food? Do you feed your patients, too?”

  Blake pulled the meatballs out of the oven. “Like I said, I make enough for others. Most of the people who come to the clinic like to pay with whatever they have. Food, help around the house, all sorts of things.”

  Were they modern-day Robin Hoods with a mix of Dr. House thrown in? She couldn’t help but think they were even better than she thought. She wanted to ask them more questions when a stream of people poured through the basement door, through the narrow galley kitchen, and out the front door.

  “Reed, pop the cork on the wine. Victor’s finished for the day unless an emergency comes up.”

  Victor, out of his white coat, was the last one to exit the basement. He flipped off the light downstairs. His piercing green eyes stirred emotions in her that she didn’t quite understand. “Good. You stayed.”

  “Yes, thanks.” She took the goblet Reed offered her and took a sip of the wine. The guys may not have a lot of money, but they knew fine wine. “They were telling me about the clinic. In fact, I’m kind of shocked that they did. I mean, I just met all of you. I could run to the authorities and squeal on you.”

  Blake brought a large bowl of spaghetti, a plate of meatballs, and a gravy boat filled with sauce to the table. After retrieving the bread, he took a seat on one end of the table while Victor took the chair opposite her and started passing the food around.

  A flash of longing pummeled through her. What would they say if she swept the food off the table, stripped, and offered her body as their meal?

  Shit, Sam. Get hold of yourself.

  “We can sense who we can trust. You’re a good person, Sam, or Blake never would’ve brought you here.”

  She warmed under Reed’s comment and dug into the best spaghetti she’d ever tasted. “Oh, my God. You weren’t kidding. This is amazing.”

  Blake lifted a glass in a toast. “To our new friend, Sam Chambers.” The look in his blue eyes made her grow warm between her legs. “May she get exactly what, and who, she wants in life.”

  She took a sip and once again centered her attention on Blake. Had she met him before? Even if her mind didn’t recognize him, her body sure seemed to.

  “You said you only recently moved to Passion. So what made you come here?” Victor’s accent was clipped, telling of someone from the East Coast.

  “I came back to find the man and boy who saved my life.” She was as startled as they were by her statement. Why had she told them? She hadn’t even told Loren yet. The fact that she was out to find the werewolf and prove that such creatures existed had almost tumbled out of her mouth after the first sentence, but at least she’d managed to catch it in time.

  “A man and a boy saved your life? How?” A quick glance from Blake whipped from Reed then to Victor.

  Once again she found herself telling them what she’d told no one else in town. What was it about the men that made her want to open up to them? “Ten years ago, my parents and I went on a vacation and camped out in one of the campsites in this area.” She studied Blake’s face. Why was he so guarded all of a sudden?

  “Go on,” urged Reed.

  “Anyway, being a stupid teenager at the time, I got mad at my parents harping about my boyfriend, so I trounced off to pout in the woods. Long story short, I got lost. But things got worse when a huge…wolf attacked me. Or at least tried to attack me.”

  “Were you carrying a basket of goodies for Grandma at the time?” quipped Reed.

  She winced even as Victor let out a low grumble. “I’m hardly Little Red Riding Hood.” Why did that sound familiar yet menacing?

  “And then what happened?”

  Blake was taking her story very seriously, making her a bit unea
sy. “Like I said, the wolf tried to attack me. But this man and his son shot at it and scared it off. Just like Blake did today.”

  Blake fumbled with his glass of wine and spilled a drop onto the table. “This happened ten years ago?”

  She nodded, almost afraid to say anything more.

  “Do you remember what the man looked like?” Reed and Victor had grown as tense as Blake had.

  “Not really. You know how a child’s mind can forget things. But I do remember a few things about the boy.”

  The men leaned forward. She bit the inside of her lip and continued. “He was about my age with hair like yours, Blake.” She studied him closer. “His eyes were the same color, too. The only thing I remember about the man was this rabbit’s foot he had on a chain around his neck.”

  Blake’s lips parted as he dropped his gaze to his uneaten food then back to her. “Was the rabbit’s foot black with one—”

  Sam’s hand shook as she carefully put her wineglass down on the table. “White toe.”

  Chapter Four

  Blake couldn’t believe it. Sam was the young girl his father had saved from the werewolf ten years earlier. “You’re the girl.”

  Her breathing picked up as she gaped at him. “And you’re the boy. I can’t believe this. I tried later on to find out your name, but the police weren’t interested in helping with a closed case. I tried the newspapers and online, but I hit a dead end.”

  “Holy shit. This is fucking amazing.”

  She couldn’t have said it any better than Reed. “You and the man—”

  “My father.”

  She nodded. “You and your father were the ones who saved me the first time. And now you’ve saved me again.”

  Silence fell as the four of them let the information sink in. He’d known something seemed familiar about her, and now he could see the young girl in her. Sam had the freckles across the nose, the long, curly brown hair, and the same beautiful eyes that had been clouded with tears so long ago.