Gone with the Wolf

by Kristin Miller

  “There is one thing,” she said, swiveling her chair around to him.

  “Anything.”

  “Do you know Drake—Mr. Wilder very well?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Logan said, with a quick, marine-like nod. “I owe him my life.”

  “How’s that?”

  Logan shifted his feet as if what he was about to say made him uncomfortable. “He set up a part of the Vanguard Foundation to take care of werewolves who are left parentless. I was abandoned by my parents, who wanted to roam the world without a child hooked to their hip. I was left on the streets for years and had to fend for myself.” He spoke as if the past were distant to him, a detached piece of his soul that floated around his body. “Turned werewolves only shift on the full moon, but born werewolves like me turn when they get angry. When you’re left on the streets, nothing angers you more than having to fight for food. Until someone helps you control your anger, you get into heaps of trouble. Mr. Wilder was the one who helped me.”

  “Oh.” It seemed like a stupid thing to say after what he’d just told her, but Emelia couldn’t think of another word to take its place. The more she learned about Drake, the more he amazed her. She was terribly wrong on her first judgment. Drake wasn’t evil. He was kind. Generous and loving. And for reasons Emelia still didn’t understand, he cared for her. “How long have you known him?”

  Logan couldn’t have been more than thirty.

  “Two hundred years, ma’am, and I can’t say I’ve met a better man since then.” Logan stepped into the room and took to a knee so that his steel-gray eyes were level with Emelia’s. “If you don’t mind my saying so, I heard what happened with Silas. I should say I’m sorry you were transitioned that way, but I truly think it’s for the better.”

  Emelia sighed. “Yeah, well, there’s nothing I can do about it now, even if I wanted to.”

  “Not that my opinion matters, but you should complete the bond with Mr. Wilder.”

  “Not that your opinion matters,” she joked.

  “Right.” He nodded slowly as a smile teased the corners of his mouth. “I can sense your connection to him, and I can sense your apprehension. But I can sense more stirring within you, too. You’re powerful, Ms. Hudson. You’re graceful and unique, so much more than you believe yourself to be. You’d be a perfect match for him.”

  “Me? Graceful?” Emelia laughed, and felt for the first time like she had a friend in Drake’s world. “Guess you haven’t seen my feet get tangled together yet.”

  Logan matched her laugh, easing the tension in her middle. “You’re very special, Ms. Hudson.”

  “I don’t think she needs to hear that from you.”

  Emelia hadn’t noticed Drake walk up behind him. Either the dimly lit bar cloaked Drake in shadow, or he moved with deadly stealth.

  “Mr. Wilder,” Logan said, standing, pulling his shoulders back.

  “Mr. Black.” Drake’s words melted together into a growl.

  “I was just asking Ms. Hudson if there was anything she needed.”

  “Bet you were.”

  The two faced off, toe-to-toe, and the next few seconds were taut with silence. If glares shot daggers in the literal sense, they would’ve been skewered through.

  “What are you doing here, Drake?” Emelia shut down her computer and stood, smoothing down her jeans. “I thought you had business to take care of.”

  “I did,” Drake said, not taking his eyes off Logan. Their gazes remained locked like ram horns in a brutal clash. “Emelia, may I speak to you in private?”

  Logan nodded as if the question were meant for him, and left the office. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Hudson,” he said without looking back.

  “You too.” Emelia pointed to the spot where Logan stood moments before. “What was that about?”

  “I don’t like him talking to you that way.” He snaked an arm around Emelia’s waist and tugged her against him. His belt ground into her stomach, then seemed to disappear as something harder swelled between them. “I’ve missed you.”

  “Is that what you came back to tell me?”

  “That’d be sweet, but no.” He smiled. “I came back to tell you that I found a lawyer who’ll take your case against Mr. Branch.”

  “Really?” Emelia nearly jumped out of her skin, then steeled herself. “Thank you for setting that up, but I don’t think I can afford a lawyer just yet.”

  He brushed his hands up and down her arms. “I’m taking care of it.”

  “No, no, that’s not what I want.” The last thing Emelia wanted was for Drake to think she was using him, or getting closer to him because of what he could do for her and this place. “When I can afford it, I’ll hire a lawyer myself.”

  “I figured you’d say that,” he said, stroking his hands over the small of her back, “so I found a lawyer who’ll work the case pro bono. He’s done a few cases with Wilder Financial, but he works for a separate legal corporation so you won’t have to go through me or my company, if you don’t want to. He said the case sounds clear-cut, but he’ll take a deeper look once you give him the go-ahead. I put his business card on the bar.”

  “Thank you.” Emelia couldn’t believe Drake had gone out of his way to make her feel more comfortable with the situation. He’d made her next move clear…and convenient. “I’ll give him a call this afternoon.”

  “I also came back for something else.”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’d like to take you on our first date.”

  “Our first…date?”

  “You know, where you get dressed up and I pick you up at your place and we go out to dinner and a movie like normal people?”

  She smacked him. He didn’t flinch, damn him and his brute strength. “I know what a date is, Captain Obvious. It’s just that…aren’t we past that? I mean, the dog has already buried the bone. What good would it do to dig it back up and show it to me?”

  Deep hoots of laughter erupted out of him. “Yes, Emelia, I’ve already buried the bone, but if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to show you what it would be like to go out with me under normal circumstances. I’d like to show you what your life could be like if you stayed with me.”

  “Tempting offer,” she said, plinking her fingers across her desk. “But I’m not sure.”

  “Damn it, woman, are you sure about anything?”

  Her gaze drifted over Drake’s shoulder, to the dartboard on the far wall. “Tell you what. We’ll play a game of darts over it. If you win, I go out with you, wherever and whenever you want. If I win, you have to jump into Lake Washington.”

  “What? Why the hell would you want me to do that? The water’s freezing!”

  “Exactly the point,” she said, smiling. “Jumping in defies logic.”

  He needed a lot more feeling and a lot less thinking in his life. If she had to be the person to show him what a little spontaneity was like, so be it. Besides, she’d jumped into Lake Washington dozens of times. The water wasn’t that cold.

  “It’ll take an act of God to get me in there,” he said.

  “Or a losing game of darts.”

  “Yeah, that’s not happening,” he chuckled. “I’ve had hundreds of years to perfect my shot.”

  “Then you have nothing to worry about,” Emelia said.

  She held out her hand to seal the deal. Drake took it and shook, enveloping her hand in warmth.

  “I tried to warn you, but if you insist on making this easy on me, lead the way.” He swept his arm aside so she could pass through to the bar. “I’m thinking a steak and lobster dinner. Maybe a late-night jaunt to Victoria Island.”

  Emelia yanked six darts—three flagged blue, three flagged red—out of the cork board and turned. Drake stood on the throw line, gearing up to throw an invisible dart. Watching him lose was going to be the highlight of the night.

  “You know, Drake,” Emelia said, handing him the blue darts. “I just realized that I am sure about one thing.”

  “What’s that?”
>
  Smiling ear to ear, Emelia took her spot on the line and fired the first dart straight into the bull’s-eye. “I’m gonna kick your ass.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Tell me again what this proves?” Drake stood at the end of his pier that jutted into Lake Washington, and peered into the dark water.

  “It proves that you’re a man of your word. You lost that game fair and square.”

  Kneeling on the slated wood, Drake untied his shoes, slipped them off, then pushed them aside. “You could’ve mentioned that you were a ringer.”

  Emelia laughed. “You could’ve asked.”

  “I think you cheated.” Moving as slow as molasses, Drake took off his coat, folded it, and draped it over his shoes. “Nobody gets three bull’s-eyes from their first three shots.”

  “Nobody but a woman who has played in dart tournaments since she was sixteen.” Emelia looked back down the long stretch of pier to where Drake’s mansion perched on the raised bank, its warm lights beckoning them in from the cold. His home looked different than it did the night of the Halloween party. It looked warm. Homey and inviting. She wished she’d grabbed a blanket before heading down to the lake. Her raincoat and jeans did little to block the wind. “Come on, fishy-fishy, get swimming. It’s freezing out here.”

  “My coat’s right there. If you’re cold, put it on.” He stripped out of his shirt, robbing the breath from Emelia’s lungs. The bright light of the nearly full moon gave Drake’s chiseled body a glow that rivaled bronze statues. His muscles twitched and flexed as he unzipped his pants and yanked them down, then stepped out of them. “This is madness. I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

  “It’ll be over before you know it.” Emelia brushed her hands over her arms and jumped up and down for warmth. “You can’t think, you’ve just gotta jump.”

  Thunder rumbled overhead as drizzles of rain seeped from the night sky.

  “Oh, sure, add some rain to the mix.” Drake stepped out of his underwear and chucked them onto his pile of clothes, then stood at the end of the pier, hesitating. “You and Mother Nature must be in cahoots.”

  Emelia would’ve laughed at how big of a chicken Drake was being, but she couldn’t clamp her mouth shut. His shoulders were wet, dripping with rain. Shadows played over his body, accenting the hard lines of his back, his rear. He was the most gorgeous guy she’d ever seen, a man who radiated power and dominance…yet he was scared of a little rain and a lot of water. He curled his toes over the edge of the pier and peered into the lake.

  “Go,” she whispered, losing her voice. Oh, how she wanted to sneak up behind him and rub her hands over the slick, pulsing muscles on his back. Okay, okay, so she wanted to shove him in. “Go!”

  As lightning split the sky, Drake blew out a few quick breaths of air and jumped. He landed in the water with a giant splash and disappeared into the lake’s murk.

  Surprised he actually did it, Emelia ran to the edge. Drake popped out of the water like a rocket, his eyes as wide and bright as silver dollars. “It’s fucking cold!”

  “It’s November! Of course it’s cold!”

  “Ah shit, it’s cold, it’s cold, it’s fucking cold!” He swam frantically for the ladder, his arms and legs flailing like he couldn’t gain control of them.

  She’d never seen his wall of composure crumble like this. It tickled Emelia down to her toes. She laughed, then felt bad, and met him at the ladder.

  “Here, give me a hand,” Drake said, stopping at the bottom. “Some of these steps are broken.”

  “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” She teased, extending her hand.

  Drake snatched her arm and yanked her into the water behind him, then toppled over with her. Emelia screamed as the water cocooned around her, sucking the air from her lungs. The frigid water burned on contact, prickling her skin with thousands of needles. Drake’s legs tangled in hers, his arms lifted her up, and moments later they both emerged from the water gasping for air.

  “You sucker!” she screamed, splashing Drake. “The water’s freezing!”

  He laughed. Really laughed. Then splashed her back.

  Every muscle in Emelia’s body went numb as something in her middle came to life. She buzzed with excitement and her heart swelled as she cowered from Drake’s splashing assault. She swam away and kicked hard, drenching him with the force of her flapping feet. For the first time, Drake wasn’t a shrewd businessman, her boss, or even a werewolf. She wasn’t a bartender, or a secretary. Drake was her equal. A man who made her feel like no other could. Emelia was freezing, her extremities going numb, her mind screaming at her to get out of the water as fast as she could. But there was nowhere else she wanted to be.

  Drake swam toward the ladder and tugged Emelia along. She laughed between gasping breaths and didn’t miss each opportunity to splash Drake in the back.

  “Come on, let’s get out of here,” he said, holding on to the side of the ladder. Rain fell on his lashes, drenching his face. “You first.”

  Emelia took the first submerged step, felt Drake’s leg brush hers, then stopped when an electric current surged between them.

  “What are you waiting for?” he said, as rain fell harder, dimpling the water around them.

  As Emelia’s heart leaped, she said, “This,” and pressed forward, catching his mouth. His lips were slippery and soft, sliding against hers in an erotic dance that she didn’t want to end. His tongue caressed hers with dizzying skill, reminding Emelia of Drake’s unmatched talent in the bedroom. He moaned into her, sliding his arms around her waist as if her figure had been molded to fit perfectly into his embrace. With a firm hand against Emelia’s hip, Drake guided her to the stairs, so that her back was flush against them. He pinned her there, wedging his thigh between her legs, and continued his possession of her body. She gasped for air, clutched at his back, and ached to taste more of his lips.

  He dove down to her neck, smudging deliciously wet kisses along her collarbone, and back up to her chin. She quivered as his tongue shot out, tracing the tiny, circular indentation at the base of her neck. She lost her breath when his kisses turned to gentle sucks. And as Drake found her breasts beneath the water and massaged them in his strong hands, Emelia couldn’t help but lay her head back and let the sensations flood her.

  Between the frigid water lapping around them, the heat of Drake’s mouth on her skin, and the warm rain falling on her face, Emelia could’ve exploded from sensory overload. His touch was electric, lighting her skin on fire. Her body responded instinctively by arching into him, begging to give him what he wanted. Despite the temperature of the water, she was warm with Drake’s body crushing hers.

  “You were right,” Drake said, then continued to devour her mouth.

  Emelia gasped for air, relishing the roughness of his hands as they raked over her body. “About what?”

  “Everything,” he said. Rain slid between their mouths, but couldn’t quench Emelia’s burning desire for Drake’s body to cover hers. “If this is what I get for feeling instead of thinking, I think I should try it more often. Minus the midnight swim, of course.”

  Emelia smiled into another kiss, and as Drake effortlessly lifted her out of the water and set her on the pier, she laughed. He made her giddy. The way he eyed her body like it was his. The way he claimed and possessed her.

  She couldn’t get enough, and she knew she’d never tire of it.

  As Drake emerged from the water, he swept Emelia into his arms and carried her to the opposite side of the pier, where a massive tri-level yacht was moored. The top decks were pearly white, with tons of windows and an open bow, while the bottom half was painted a glossy shade of midnight blue.

  “Watch your step,” Drake whispered, setting her down.

  “What’s up there?” Emelia’s teeth chattered, and although she couldn’t see her lips, she’d bet they were turning purple.

  “I keep towels on the deck,” he said, crossing his arms in a shiver. “Unless you’d rather run b
ack to the house.”

  Running a few hundred yards in the pouring rain in soggy shoes didn’t sound appealing.

  “No, this is…fine.” Her gaze trailed across the long, swooping deck of the yacht, then focused on the white, bulky letters stenciled on the bow: Tara. “A former flame?” she asked.

  “Excuse me?” He took her hand.

  “The name of the boat. Was Tara a former lover?”

  Even through the pouring rain, Emelia could see hints of laughter sparkling deep in Drake’s chocolate-toned eyes. “Tara is the name of the plantation in Gone with the Wind.”

  “You’re a fan of the movie?” Emelia couldn’t picture it.

  “I’m more of an all-around classic movie fan. Back then, the men were smooth and the women had tenacity to spare. Doesn’t get better than that.” His full lips pulled into a smile and he squeezed her hand. “Now up you go, my lady.” Holding her hand, Drake helped Emelia on board, then followed closely behind her.

  The yacht was magnificent, long and sleek, with a formidable bow and bench seats lining the cabin. Although the boat was dark and quiet, bobbing smoothly on the water, Emelia bet the thing was powerful at sea—a beast. She stepped beneath a balcony to get protection from the rain. As if the storm knew the second she’d found somewhere dry, the rain began to fall harder, dripping from the edges of the awning like a lightly streaming waterfall. Drake popped the lid on a bench on the deck as Emelia breathed deep. How had she ended up on the most luxurious yacht she’d ever seen, on Lake Washington, in the middle of a rainstorm, with the elusive Drake Wilder? Two months ago she wouldn’t have believed she’d be here.

  “Here.” He draped a towel around her shoulders, then pulled her against him.

  Emelia’s body responded to Drake’s body, not the terry cloth, and instantly warmed.

  “Better?” he asked, pulling back to look into her eyes. “Your lips aren’t so purple.”

  “Thank you.” Lifting up on tiptoe, Emelia kissed him with all the passion she’d kept buried inside. She tried to snapshot this moment—the sound of the rain, the way her stomach somersaulted when his tongue slipped inside her mouth. She wanted to keep this memory with her always. It was dreamlike. Beyond surreal.