Dolf sighed, soundlessly, he hoped.
You’ve got to keep your eye on the prize, thought Dolf at himself sternly, but as that brought up mental images of Helena in a big red bow and very little else, he swiftly amended that thought. Finish line. You’ve got to keep your eye on the finish line, Shaw.
Except that brought up other ideas too, about other ways he – or rather, they – could finish.
Dolf decided to blame Helena for that too. He didn’t used to be that much of a pervert, he was sure of it.
Shaking his head at himself, Dolf went to lay out his clothes on the bed. Then he put Helena’s bed back together for her, put away or threw away the rest of his camping gear, as appropriate, changed into his bathrobe, and refilled the water bottles, putting them in the refrigerator so that the water in them would be cold when Helena went swimming again tomorrow.
So far, Helena had gone swimming every day that she had been there, December be damned, apparently.
Helena was still in the shower, so Dolf puttered around a bit more, putting away his clean clothes while he waited for his turn in the bathroom. With half an ear, he listened as first the water shut off, then the bathroom door creaked, a wave of chemical scent enhancers wafted through the apartment, tickling Dolf’s sensitive nose, and finally there was the rapid retreat of footsteps down the apartment’s short hallway. In the distance, another door shut.
Quickly, Dolf claimed his turn in the bathroom, before Helena could change her mind and take it back. He kept his shower short but very hot. Fifteen minutes later, Dolf was showered, shaved, and finished with all the myriad little things that a man does to impress a woman. Wrapped in his bathrobe, he emerged from the bathroom amid plumes of steam.
Going into his bedroom, he knocked on Helena’s closed closet door.
“The bathroom’s available, if you want it again,” he called through the wood.
“Thanks! I do!” There was a brief pause, then Helena called from the other side of the door “But close your eyes!”
“What?”
“Close your eyes!”
Huffing out a breath, Dolf did as he was told.
“Okay. They’re closed.”
With his eyes closed, Dolf didn’t feel vulnerable. He still had his other senses, all of which yearned towards the door in front of him and the woman behind it.
He heard the squeak of the closet door as it was swung open, and then the swish of fabric. Dolf felt the warmth of Helena as she passed by him, a ghost’s touch. His hands itched and his arms ached, straining as they were against his self-discipline.
Determined, Dolf repressed the urge to pull Helena to him; to feel the soft warmth of her against himself as he kissed her face, finding her lips with his even with his eyes firmly shut. Instead, he reminded himself that this was a client, not a woman that he could touch. Dolf stood absolutely still, allowing Helena to slip past him unmolested.
Dolf stood stock still, his eyes closed and his body tense, until he heard the bathroom door click shut behind her. Then he sucked in a big deep breath, held it for a moment, and breathed it out, willing the tension to leave his body with his breath. Opening his eyes, Dolf blinked a few times. Another deep breath, more of his strain breathed out with it, and then he went to finish getting dressed.
And then he waited.
When Helena emerged from the bathroom, she was wearing a little black dress. Well, the 1920s flapper version of one.
Strings of shiny beads arced across the curves of her breasts and crisscrossed her stomach, drawing attention to the long, lean length of it, before they fell into geometric patterns on her skirt. A line of flowers, picked out in the same sorts of shiny white and silver beads, flowed down her stomach and graced her hips. Lengths of long black fringe fell from the hem of the dress and swayed as she walked, drawing attention to her long, slim legs.
“You look amazing,” blurted Dolf, his astonished pleasure bypassing his brain entirely. Immediately, he felt stupid. She probably already knew that. She was the one that had made herself look like that, after all.
But Helena beamed at him again, clearly pleased at his compliment, and Dolf relaxed, happy that he had made her happy.
“Do you really think so?” she asked, doing an impromptu little twirl for him. It let Dolf admire her beauty from all the angles.
“Yeah,” he said, a trifle breathless, and when Helena stopped, she looked pleased to have taken his breath away.
If she was his girl, there would have been no question of going out after that. He would have taken her straight to bed and shown her exactly what sort of effect she had on him.
But Helena wasn’t his girl. She was his client.
Still, he couldn’t help admiring her, just a little bit. Or a lot. She looked stunning. How had he not noticed how stunning she was before this? Clearly, he had been blind.
Together, they left the apartment, Dolf locking up behind them before they went downstairs to meet Declan. The sight of his fellow Defender – cleaned up, handsome, and obviously waiting to join them, making it three – was like a dash of cold water to Dolf.
Even though this felt like a date, it wasn’t one. He was just going out to celebrate his recent success with friends, one of whom happened to be a client.
Except that didn’t feel right either, for a number of reasons; for one thing, Dolf wasn’t friendly with clients, not even the ones that he liked. And for another, he didn’t precisely want to be friends with Helena, except in the most personal, intimate, highly romantic sense of the word.
But he couldn’t be that sort of friend to Helena, because she was his client; Dolf didn’t do things like that with clients. He just did what he was paid to do: keep them safe.
This whole thing was a mistake, thought Dolf as, nearby, Declan whistled at Helena, long and low.
“You clean up nice, cousin,” he said admiringly, and Helena flushed; very prettily, in Dolf’s opinion.
Stop that, Dolf ordered. She’s a client. She isn’t pretty or beautiful or stunning. She’s a responsibility, nothing more and nothing less.
Dolf’s responsibility was wearing heels that were high and black and sexy as hell, but he imagined walking in them must be rather akin to walking around in super sexy stilts. He kept a close eye on Helena as they made their way to the car, lest she find a new way of injuring herself on his watch. The step down from the curb to the parking lot was only one step, but Dolf spent it ready to pounce. He didn’t want Helena to twist her ankle.
Of course, it should be safe enough wearing them to bed, mused Dolf, because beds were nice and flat like that.
Then he remembered that it wasn’t that kind of date. She was a client. They had Declan in tow. And also, she was his colleague’s, his pack mate’s, beloved long lost cousin. That last was getting harder and harder to remember or care about, though.
For dinner, they took Helena out to the steakhouse that Dolf had been dreaming about, the one with the thick steaks, the creamy mashed potatoes, and three kinds of appetizers that Dolf would have been just as happy eating as a main course.
Helena seemed to like it, if her bright-eyed enthusiasm for the cowboy décor was anything to go by. And she must have loved the food. Every time the firecracker shrimp plate passed anywhere near her, the plate got noticeably emptier. Dolf, who had a certain weakness for shrimp himself, only managed to snag a couple in passing. Declan seemed more or less in the same boat. And Helena looked as pleased as the cat that got the canary.
Dolf also got the surf and turf, the steak on it something that he’d been daydreaming about ever since he had started worrying about his physical. Declan got a steak too, his encrusted with parmesan cheese, while Helena devoured the salmon, roasted on a cedar plank and glazed with a soy-ginger sauce.
When the food showed up, everyone dropped their previous conversations in favor of eating. Dinner could have gotten awkward then, but it didn’t. Somehow, the silences between the three of them were comfortable; the meandering st
arts and stops to their conversation even more so. And Dolf was fairly certain that he even sounded mostly coherent when he spoke, at least he hoped he was.
Across the table, Helena still looked beautiful enough to confuse a man, especially a man like him, who wasn’t necessarily easy with his words to begin with; not like Declan, who never seemed to wonder what to say.
I should’ve tried double dating sooner, decided Dolf.
The idea had been floated his way before, but he’d always managed to squirm out of it on some pretext or other. He hadn’t wanted any of his fellow Defenders to see him crash and burn, romantically speaking.
But this wasn’t so bad.
Of course, if he’d tried going out with a wingman before now, it wouldn’t have been Helena that he was dating.
Dolf found even the thought of that unacceptable.
He liked Helena. She was special. He might even… love her.
No, he definitely loved her.
Even if she wasn’t his soul mate, he loved her; not that he knew for certain either way.
And I’ll probably never have the chance to find out, Dolf thought. Not between the chlorine and the bath scents.
In his experience, women got touchy when a man asked to give them a sniff, au natural. But someday, the opportunity might present itself. And when it did – well, he could hardly not give her a sniff. That would be tantamount to resolving to giving up breathing.
But Dolf knew his heart. It was a loyal thing. He couldn’t imagine wanting anyone in his life more than he wanted Helena in it. Whether she was the one made specifically for him or not, she was probably it for him. And it was only probably, because he didn’t know how she felt about him, if she felt anything for him at all. Maybe she didn’t even think about him when they were apart.
That thought made him sad.
The curve of a foot rubbing up and down the length of his calf cheered him up, though. Surprised – he hadn’t thought Helena the type – Dolf glanced Helena’s way.
She was staring down at her bacon macaroni and cheese as if eating it held all her attention, only the flush in her cheeks betraying her.
In that moment, Dolf desperately wanted both to laugh and kiss her, maybe at the same time. Instead, Dof offered Helena a couple of shrimp from his surf and turf, which seemed to cheer her right up.
If it had really been a date, Dolf would have suggested that they go dancing. He’d have asked Helena, and Declan, with his easy manner, could have picked someone up there. But it wasn’t a date, just a celebratory dinner between friends, one of whom also happened to be their client. So there was no dancing.
It’s just as well, thought Dolf.
For him, dinners were usually safe enough. Sure, he’d never been great at making small talk, especially on first dates, but nothing too terrible ever happened in a restaurant. In his experience, his dates usually fell apart during the activity before or after them. Perhaps not coincidentally, that was also when the horrifying thing – whatever that night’s horrifying thing would be – happened.
He absolutely didn’t want anything horrifying to happen to Helena.
At home, the police were still loitering around the place. Dolf didn’t blame them. In the past twenty-four hours, there had been three break ins (one unreported), two attempted murders, one attempted kidnapping, and one full on murder. And those were just the crimes that Dolf knew about.
Usually, living in his apartment complex wasn’t that exciting.
At home, Declan suggested a movie to which Dolf and Helena agreed. They ended up watching… something with a lot of action in it? And possibly time travel as well as dragons and werewolves. Dolf wasn’t really certain, because most of his focus had on Helena, who had nestled into his side early on and been seemingly content to stay there.
All in all, it was a pretty great night.
Chapter 19 – Helena
The next morning, Helena’s everything ached.
Who knew that living through an attempted murder was so painful? Helena certainly hadn’t, that was for sure. Just getting out of bed was enough to make her groan.
Two aspirin and a hot shower were enough to get her moving, though, and Helena emerged from the bathroom somewhat more limber and ready to face the day.
By then, Dolf was already up, but in the living room, Declan was still asleep. Dolf had produced a spare sleeping bag for him.
That morning, Helena and Dolf ate breakfast at the kitchen counter.
For breakfast, Helena finally got to try cold cereal. It was not as delicious or glamorous as years of television had led her to believe that it would be, and the little marshmallows in it were both stale and all the same flavor. But the part where it turned the milk blue was fun.
Dolf had to make do with the last of his fancy berry yogurt topped with real fruit and a touch of honey. It looked delicious.
Helena refused to envy him.
She still did though, just a little bit. It was a lot more edible than what she was having.
After that, Helena changed into her swimsuit. Emerging from her closet, she was surprised to see Dolf in a pair of blue board shorts, a worn light grey t-shirt, and flip-flops.
It was a good look for him. Helena especially appreciated the way that his t-shirt strained across his chest. It was nearly as good a look for him as that towel had been. Remembering it, remembering how Dolf had looked with his towel slung low around his waist, his skin gleaming wetly, and his hair dark with water, made Helena’s skin prickle. In her belly, there was a low, sweet ache.
In the present, Dolf shrugged.
“It’ll help me blend in,” he said, and Helena was surprised to find that she was disappointed. She wanted to go swimming with him!
You aren’t hanging out, Helena reminded herself. He works for you now. He can’t hang out with you, while you’re paying him.
It felt strange to put Dolf, who had helped her and protected her with no thought of repayment, in the same category as Pia, who had sold information on her at every opportunity. And yet, she had paid for both of their services, and perhaps inadvertently, their company.
Helena mulled over that as she got her things together, including two water bottles from the fridge, one for Dolf and one for her. That someone, either Dolf or Declan, had thought to do that for her put an expected ache in Helena’s heart, the good kind, though.
It was lovely to know that someone cared.
In companionable silence, she and Dolf made their way downstairs and then over to the lap swimming pool to claim a pair of deck chairs near one of the open lanes.
That was when the issue of sunblock came up. Dolf was more than happy to help Helena apply hers, his hands big and warm against her back. Under them, Helena shivered; her skin prickled and her breasts ached.
She was sorry when he stopped rubbing sunblock along her back, his fingertips occasionally dipping beneath the edges of her swimsuit, and declared her done.
There was, however, a bright side.
“Your turn,” declared Helena, grinning as she waved the bottle of sunblock at him.
“I’m wearing a t-shirt,” protested Dolf.
“You can never tell! Sunburns are sneaky!”
Dolf shrugged. “If you insist…” He didn’t sound particularly reluctant.
“I do!”
She really, really did. Helena could barely wait to get her hands on all those muscles.
Her mouth dry, Helena watched intently as Dolf shrugged off his t-shirt, the muscles in his chest lengthening and tightening as he raised his arms over his head.
Dropping his t-shirt onto Helena’s pile of things, Dolf obligingly turned his back on her, giving Helena her first opportunity to get her hands on all that smooth skin.
She didn’t even hesitate.
Smoothing sunblock over Dolf’s skin, her hands sneaking around the jut of his hips and the curves of his ribs before she went up on her toes to reach his broad shoulders, was just as much fun as letting Dolf put sunblock
on her. More fun, even, because she got to enjoy the warmth of his skin under her palms and feel the pull of flex of all his wonderful muscles against her fingertips.
Under her hands, Dolf shuddered and then leaned back into her touch. That felt pretty amazing, but it was even more amazing when he sighed and relaxed under her touch.
All too soon, Helena ran out of skin to put sunblock on, something that seemed to make Dolf as sorry as she was. And after putting sunblock on Dolf, putting sunblock on her own skin seemed sort of a letdown. It wasn’t nearly as much fun as putting it on Dolf had been.
A few minutes after that, Helena was in the pool and swimming, all of her previous thoughts and concerns falling away in the easy flex and pull of her muscles as she moved through the water.
That morning, Helena swam about a mile and a half, before getting out. From what she could see while doing her backstroke laps, Dolf seemed to spend that time alternately studying everyone else suspiciously, watching her swim, and checking his messages on his cell phone. But his eyes were firmly on her as Helena hauled herself out of the pool. And as all the other times before it, the weight of his gaze on her made Helena feel good.
Her skin prickling as much at his look as at the cooler air, Helena rushed to dry off.
Her towel wrapped around her waist, and her flip-flops popping on her every step, they made their way upstairs again to Dolf’s apartment, where Declan was in the shower.
Dolf disappeared into the bedroom – really, his bedroom – and after a moment, Helena claimed a spot at the desk in Dolf’s home office. There, she filled out a few applications while first Declan and then Dolf took their turns in the bathroom.
Since discovering that Dolf was a dire wolf shifter, the focus of Helena’s job inquiries had changed. No longer was Helena sad that her previous research placement had fallen through. Now, she was infused with new purpose: to study Dolf’s anatomy, professionally speaking.
Although as a matter of great personal interest, she certainly wasn’t against studying it in more detail in a private setting, either.
Dolf’s second form being that of a dire wolf was an unsought and unlooked for boon. Helena hadn’t even known that there were shifters in this world that could become extinct animals. And, as a careful search of all the research databases that she still had access to had revealed, neither had her colleagues.
The Wyvern's Defender Dire Wolf Page 20