To Tempt the Wolf hotw-3

by Terry Spear

  "Who was seeing your brother's girlfriend?" He turned the rolls.

  "Michael didn't know. And the police couldn't locate him."

  Hunter gave her a skeptical look and served up her steak and the rolls.

  "My brother couldn't catch her with him, but he knew she was seeing someone else." She took a deep breath. "I'll get the asparagus."

  After she returned and served up the asparagus, but before he began to eat his meal, he scooted behind her while she sat cross-legged in front of the fireplace, as if they had known each other forever. His legs stretched out beyond hers way too intimately, caging her in, and yet to be able to keep her arms from being pinned, she rested her elbows on his knees. She had never known anyone she could get this close to so quickly and feel just right.

  He removed the pins from her hair, gently, careful not to pull it.

  "Your dinner will get cold," she admonished, feeling out of her element. No man had ever let her hair down and the experience was just as beguiling as the rest of his moves. "And if nothing else, you need a good hot meal after the ordeal you've been through."

  "I'm feeling pretty hot." His deep baritone voice penetrated her defenses, offering protection and silky seduction. Warmed by the fire, his chest pressed against her back. "How about you?"

  Sizzling, as in having one of those hot flashes her mother always talked about. But it had nothing to do with the fire, and all to do with the Greek god warming her backside.

  He stroked Tessa's hair with tender caresses, and she suddenly wasn't hungry. Instead, she wanted to turn around and kiss him. She was pretty sure his kisses could melt the polar ice caps the way he looked at her and touched her, heating her from the top of her damp head to her boot-covered toes. The way his first kiss had done.

  Despite the circumstances that brought them together, she felt a sense of relief that he was here. Well, more than a sense of relief. Here, she could have been sitting in the chilly house alone, without any electricity, still trying to get a fire going, worried that whoever broke into the house was lurking outside. She would never have imagined cooking a meal over the fire either, even though Michael had done so outside a number of times while she'd watched. If she'd been on her own, she probably would have fixed a tuna fish sandwich and sat in the cold, eating it while a flashlight illuminated the place, poking into the dark with a faint light, the rest in shadows. Worrying that the intruder would return.

  Hunter stroked her hair some more with the towel, then leaned over and kissed the back of her head, his groin pressed hard against her backside. He was totally aroused and she was getting herself into hot water. What if the guy was married? He didn't remember anything about his past. He wasn't wearing a ring, but maybe in his occupation, he couldn't. Or maybe he was the kind of man who refused to wear a ring, because it stifled his sex life. Like her father.

  "Thanks so much for drying my hair." Her tone was formal, an attempt at keeping her distance.

  "A natural redhead." He combed his fingers through the strands, inspecting it as if he had never seen anything quite like it, caressing, awed.

  And for a minute in time, she felt adored, when no one had ever treated her that way. But then she shuttered her heart, reminding herself it could all be a show. He might be a womanizer extraordinaire and it was his nature to beguile women with his irresistible magnetism.

  He moved his long legs and rose.

  Instantly, the heat his body had generated faded from hers and the loss of their touching affected her profoundly, when her mind told her she shouldn't feel a thing. But with her brother gone, the house so empty-- hell, what was she telling herself? Hunter was the first man who'd made her feel like a real woman ever. It had nothing to do with her brother or an empty house and all to do with an empty life. The only thing that kept her busy was taking care of her brother, and photographing anything and everything for a living.

  One look at Hunter and the lustful expression in his gaze, and she knew he wanted her. Or at least he was fully aroused and needed release. She figured any woman who was readily available would do.

  He lifted a brow and she wondered what he was reading in her expression. Skepticism? Interest? He would be right on both accounts.

  He gave her a small smile, then grabbed his plate and sat next to her in front of the fire, his knee touching hers. Did he practice seduction? Or did it just come naturally?

  "You could hire a detective to look into your brother's situation."

  "I have. He charged me lots and didn't find anything."

  Hunter nodded.

  "Michael's innocent," she said, her voice harsher than she intended.

  He didn't respond one way or another, and she knew there was no sense in trying to convince another disbeliever. He devoured his steak as if he hadn't eaten in ages, but worked slower on the rolls and asparagus, and then gulped down two glasses of milk. When he snagged another roll, she studied his face again. She swore when she first saw them, the bruises were dark purple and cuts were deep and bloody in places. But now they looked like they were fading.

  "Does your head hurt? Or anywhere else? I don't have anything really strong but I've got headache and backache medicines."

  "No, I'm feeling better already."

  Now it was her turn to look at him unbelievingly. "Why would you have been swimming in the ocean? You must have some idea."

  "Two possibilities. I was pushed or I jumped off one of the cliffs up the coast. Probably drifted to your beach."

  Pushed? She couldn't imagine him being the type to jump.

  First, she'd put out the word she was going to locate Bethany's killer, now an intended murder victim was staying with her? Bad things come in threes, her grandmother had always said. Michael was found guilty, the electricity was off during an ice storm, and she found a near dead guy on the beach. Oh, and a guy had broken into her home and stolen her gun. That was four in her book. Now was past time for something good to happen.

  "You don't remember anything? Except that you like your steak rare?"

  He smiled a hair. "I guess that's instinctual."

  "Well, it's a good thing you didn't lose all your memory, including how to walk or talk like some do in really bad amnesia cases. Do you at least remember where you live?"

  "No." He finished another roll and sat back against the leather footstool, his knees bent, his legs spread, his posture openly sexual, stating he was available if she was, while he studied her with that intense way of his as though he could look into her soul. "So what were you and your brother doing living way out here?"

  "Our grandparents gifted us the house when they died. I'm a professional photographer." She motioned to the wall opposite the fireplace where around thirty framed photos picturing wildlife, both flora and fauna hung. "And my brother is an artist. He loves to paint the Oregon Coast in all its moods. His work is now in several galleries across the country. You might have seen a couple of his paintings in the hallway and in the dining room."

  "Both of you are very talented. I love the way you capture nature in all its beauty." He observed her photos from where he sat, but the light was fading too much for him to see them well.

  Maybe he had gotten a closer look at them earlier when she was changing.

  "The way the light plays off the storm-driven waves. The deer eating undisturbed in the sun-mottled forest. Even the seals basking on the rocks near the caves below the cliffs. As if you were an unobtrusive observer preserving nature at its best with one click of the camera," Hunter said, motioning to them.

  She could tell he wasn't just making small talk, that their work really touched him, which confirmed what she had assumed about him--he was a rugged outdoorsman. Probably a hunter. She didn't see him as the fisherman type.

  Yet something else flickered in his expression. A darkness, or concern. She wasn't sure what.

  "What are you going to do now that your brother is gone?"

  "Find a way to get him out of prison. I have to discover who Bethany Wad
e was seeing behind Michael's back. I really believe he's the clue to this."

  "If you're right in thinking someone had anything to do with her death, it's too dangerous for you to look into."

  What other choice did she have? Not that she would personally chase after a killer. That would be way too risky. She'd hire a good detective who could discover the truth.

  "I'm not giving up."

  Hunter folded his arms across his chest and speared her a look that said he would have his way or else. "Here's the deal. I need to find out what happened to me. If someone pushed me off a cliff, I don't want whoever did it to know I'm still alive, yet. So I need a nice out-of-the-way place to stay. You require some protection. Michael's window is broken and needs to be repaired. And if you think you locked the back door, then someone used a key to get in. You'll need your locks changed, and I can assist you. In the meantime, I'll snoop into Bethany Wade's death."

  Tessa's mouth gaped.

  He added, "For room and board."

  "But if you can't be seen, how can you investigate?"

  "I'll manage."

  Again, she had the feeling he knew more about himself than he was letting on. He sounded like he was an undercover operative used to slipping in and out of dangerous situations, unseen and unheard. He certainly was built like a man who physically trained all the time. Plus, he exhibited an unswerving confidence, bordering on out-and-out male arrogance, as she assumed someone in the Special Forces or Rangers would act.

  "All right. You can sleep in the spare bedroom."

  "I'll sleep wherever you bed down for the night."

  That left unbidden thoughts of rugged sex with a mountain man blazing across her brain. She clamped her mouth shut, blinked, and managed to reopen her mouth and say, "Pardon me?"

  Chapter 3

  IF EVERY MUSCLE HADN'T ACHED SO MUCH--THE PAIN slicing all the way through to the marrow of his bones--the incredulous expression on Miss Tessa Anderson's face would have made him smile. But the situation was too dire to make light of it. He might not remember his whole name or what had happened to him, but one thing the concussion had not robbed him of--his wolf instincts.

  They warned him whoever had broken into the house and stolen Tessa's gun had also lain in her bed--on the side of the mattress where she always slept--rolled in her scent and carried it with him. Which meant only one thing. The perpetrator wanted her for his own--and since he was a lupus garou, that was bad news.

  Worse than that, she triggered a craving in him to such an extent, he was having a hell of a time tamping down the feelings, and remembering why he had to keep his interest to himself.

  Her hair cascaded over her shoulder blades, thick, soft red curls he longed to plunge his fingers in again. Her clear green eyes were tinged blue, not a speck of amber: bright, expressive, not wary as he expected, being that he was a stranger without any memories and here most likely due to foul play.

  And the frumpy emerald sweats she wore, although designed to hide a woman's sensuous shape, did nothing of the sort. The swell of her generous breasts, the curve of her thighs, her rounded ass, all were perfectly outlined by the soft attire. No belts or buttons to hinder their removal either.

  He took a ragged breath and sat taller, absorbed the heat from the fire, which helped to ease the ache in his bones, and raised his brows. "I'll stay with you wherever you make your bed. The house isn't secure. Either we sleep here by the fire, or if you have enough blankets for your bed, we stay in your room."

  If it was up to him, he would have opted for the comfort of the mattress, but most of all snuggling with the woman. But her scent, her pheromones, the feel of her silky hair, the way her soft body had pressed against him--and the kiss--had aroused him to such a degree, everything about her was throwing him off kilter. A one-night stand with a human female was one thing. But he was certain one tumble with her wouldn't satisfy the carnal urge. And since he needed to stay longer to protect her, it was better to keep their relationship as platonic as possible. Yet, the wolf part of him was already heading down a dangerous, forbidden path.

  She licked her lips and turned her gaze to the fire. His groin tightened. The light sparkled off her eyes and her moistened lips glistened. He'd been in a half-aroused state ever since the woman had manhandled him on the beach in her tight black denims and breast-hugging turtleneck, dampened by the sleet, her hardened nipples teasing his chest when she had tried to revive him. Even half-conscious, the wolf side of him had been aware of her special scent, sensed her fear--not of him, but for him. If she learned what he was, what he was capable of, she would fear him.

  "I guess we could sleep here. By the fire. It would probably be warmer." Her gaze shifted from the flames to him.

  The look in her eyes said she'd be safer curling up next to the fire. Less intimate than sleeping with him in her bed. Yet there was a hint of something else. Desire to be with him? But she seemed to be waiting for him to make a decision. Which couldn't help but please him. His sister was so testy of late, seeing a female bow to his leadership was much appreciated.

  Sister? Where the hell had that memory come from? He tried to dredge up more, but came up blank.

  "Don't you think?" Tessa asked, when he didn't respond.

  Jarring him back to the situation at hand, he rubbed his right arm, the muscle caught in a spasm. He should have said she was right, sleeping by the fire was a good choice. Safer for both of them. But his animal needs were getting the best of him. He took another deep breath of her scent, sweet and musky. He wanted her, no matter how much he tried to persuade himself it would be a mistake.

  "That would be fine," he said slowly, his gaze never leaving hers, all the while judging her reaction. "But already I'm stiffening up pretty badly. Maybe I will take something for the aches and pains."

  He wasn't lying, but normally he would suffer rather than let a woman know how he felt.

  Tessa's face grew shadowed, and she hurried to take the plates. "Oh, oh, of course. You must be feeling awful."

  She rushed into the kitchen, and he almost felt guilty. But he liked her maternal instincts, and no matter how much he knew he should shove his baser needs aside, he wanted to share the bed with Tessa. She was a grown woman after all, and he, a grown... well, man of sorts.

  He glanced at the living room window, the curtains drawn.

  Had the gray been watching them when they climbed to the house from the beach? The sleet was coming down hard, cleansing the air. He couldn't have smelled him if the lupus garou was being careful. Not a true alpha male then. If he had been one, the wolf would have made his presence known, indicated up front that he had laid claim to the woman. As a beta, the wolf would have rolled in her sheets before he saw Tessa hauling an injured gray up the hill. The lupus garou must have observed them, hiding in the trees, loathing him.

  If the thief got anywhere near the house, he would regret it. But even a beta lupus garou could be a dangerous proposition for a lone human female.

  Tessa returned with a glass of water and a couple of white pills. "This should help. I'll be right back." She whipped around and headed for the kitchen, then banged inside the cabinets.

  He took the medicine, finished off the water, and rose from the floor. Not meaning to, he groaned, and she caught him in the act.

  Her brows furrowed deeper as she tightened her hold on a stainless steel saucepan. "You're really hurting, aren't you? Why don't you lie down on the floor next to the fire, and I'll rub some liniment into your muscles. I'll warm this water over the fire, and you can wash the saltwater off your skin. When the electricity's back on, you can shower properly."

  He meant to conceal his satisfied expression, for her sake, but he couldn't help it. She was eating right out of his hands.

  She twisted her mouth and set the pot on the fire. "I'll be back."

  After watching her walk down the hall to the bathroom, and seeing nothing amiss, he returned to the living room, stripped out of her brother's sweats and reclined o
n his stomach on the carpeting next to the fire. He rested his head on his arms, but even that movement sent a streak of screaming pain from his arms to his back.

  Tessa stepped into the room and he heard her intake of breath. Her eyes grew big and her lips parted, but she had already seen him nude.

  "I hope that stuff works." He attempted looking as innocent as an alpha gray pack leader could manage who was already fully aroused, his voice way too husky.

  "Uhm, you're awfully cut up. Let me get some antibacterial cream, too." She set the tube of liniment next to the fire and left. Down the hall, she rummaged around in some drawers.

  She returned posthaste, carrying a handful of creams, his salvation. In anticipation, he relaxed his stiff muscles.

  After leaving the creams on the coffee table, she knelt beside him and dipped a washcloth in the water. She slid the hot wet cloth over his shoulders, her touch gentle, and he gave a raspy sigh. "Got hot fast."

  "Too warm?"

  "No, feels just right."

  "The faucet still had some hot water. The pipes would be cold and it takes forever for the bathroom water to heat even on a warm day, but you might be able to take a fast lukewarm shower."

  He needed a cold one to keep his libido in check with the woman touching him so tenderly. "This is fine." Better than fine.

  She washed his right shoulder and arm and before he could grow chilled, she patted the skin dry with a towel. He closed his eyes and enjoyed her ministrations. No one had ever treated him with so much kindness that he could recall. Hell, his sister would have shoved him in a tub of cold water, not wanting him to soil the sheets with the odor from the sea.

  Again, an elusive memory of his sister. But he couldn't dredge up anything further.

  Tessa probably couldn't smell the fishy odor on his skin like his kind could, but the scent was pretty pungent. He felt like he had been dropped in a vat of freshly caught fish off the coast. Not that it bothered him. Getting skunked was about the worst odor any wolf would have to contend with. Although he had been a pup when it happened, too curious for his own good, his parents wouldn't let him inside the house for days. Thankfully, the weather had been mild and the moon out so he remained a wolf the whole time, foraging in the forest, no chores to do.