by Terry Spear
He eased deeper into her tight sheath and began massaging her breasts to loosen her up. He could tell she hadn't been with a man in a very long time and the notion pleased him. He was even more convinced than before--if she had been a gray lupus garou, he would never let her go.
Her sweet, musky scent had all but undone him when he first stroked her breast, triggering her arousal. And thinking of the way she had touched him--rubbed his muscles with such finesse, cleaned the salt from his skin with tenderness, covered his injuries with the faintest of touches--every sensation was permanently etched into his brain.
He embedded himself inside her to the hilt and slowly began to withdraw. She smiled in a way that would heat any man's blood. What was worse, he already wanted her to smile at only him like that. The problem? Not enough lupus garou females to satisfy the male population.
He meant to draw out the lovemaking, take it slow and easy the first time with her. But she combed her fingers through his hair in such a sensual way, and then her fingers drew higher and began to massage his scalp, he felt he would lose his seed before he could make it very much farther.
He plunged in deeper, harder, fulfilling his raw need to conquer, to possess her. And she was worthy of being his, but he would not go there.
He watched her expression as he pumped deep inside of her, her sparkling eyes observing him, challenging him to give her everything he had. He felt the end coming and with one last hard thrust, he filled her with his seed. Sweet heaven, she was a gift from the gods.
Sexually satiated, he kissed her upturned lips, and then rolled onto his back, pulling her into his arms, loving the way her soft body molded against his hardness. "I wasn't too rough, was I?" he asked, his voice raspy against her ear, although it was a little too late for asking.
She shivered and touched his extended nipple. "Just perfect. I've never taken a nap that's been so--stimulatingly satisfying."
He chuckled. "Health experts say a nap a day can add years to your life."
"I believe it. Well, especially while napping with you."
He could have snuggled with her until nightfall, although they managed to sleep for an hour, but Rourke began stirring in the living room. More than stirring. He was banging around, probably tired of Tessa and Hunter "sleeping" together.
Hunter gave a ragged sigh and kissed the top of Tessa's head. "Let's get up. I need to gather more firewood and start that roast if it's going to be ready by dinnertime."
"You'll be careful tonight when you go looking for the thief, won't you?"
"Yeah, but you and Rourke stay together and don't leave the house this time."
"Do you remember everything about your life? Where you're from, where you were born?"
"No. It's coming back in annoying fragments." But he hoped he would soon remember what had happened to him before he ended up in the Pacific. Then he would take care of that little matter, too.
The tension ran high the rest of the evening. Rourke seemed perturbed Hunter had slept with Tessa earlier in the day and would again for part of the night. And she couldn't quit worrying about Hunter's safety tonight. Something seemed to be bothering him also. Another recollection? Maybe concern that they shouldn't have made love this afternoon. If he left tomorrow, she would have no regrets about what they had done. Well, no. She wasn't being honest with herself. She doubted she would ever find a man who was quite like Hunter. No one would ever measure up to him.
But something was going on with him. He kept watching her, his look so dark she couldn't fathom what was the matter. If Rourke hadn't been there, she would have asked. But she didn't want to in front of him.
Rourke noticed Hunter's ominous mood, too. Even though he was pissed about her and Hunter's relationship, he wasn't saying a word about it. But she bet he would if Hunter hadn't looked so lethal.
"You didn't make that list of names for me," Hunter finally said to Tessa, fixing her with a piercing gaze as he shoved his empty plate at Rourke.
Although Rourke was supposed to do the dishes, he wasn't finished eating, and he cast Hunter an irritated look.
Tessa had forgotten all about the list of suspects. "I'll do it after I finish dinner."
She realized then, the change had come over Hunter after he'd left to gather firewood earlier. She frowned. Although she knew she shouldn't bring it up, she wasn't used to burying problems. "Did you discover anything when you went down to the beach to get firewood?"
Rourke glanced up from his roast.
"You said Ashton wasn't anything to you. You said he only saw you as Michael's annoying sister. What the hell's going on between the two of you? Is he your lover? Former lover? Is that why he shot me?"
A sickening flood of fear washed over her. He watched the emotions playing across her face, his hard look instantly changing to a hint of compassion. How did he come up with the conclusion that she and Ashton were lovers?
The... the incident in the shed out back? How could he know about that?
"Don't lie to me, Tessa."
His voice was so stern she might have cowered if she had done something wrong.
But she hadn't, damn it. She hadn't even known Hunter back then. What right did he have bullying her?
No longer hungry, she rose from the table. "You want a list of possible suspects, I'll give you a list. But beyond that, go to hell."
She swore his lips turned up a fraction before he stood like one pissed-off giant grizzly.
He tossed a pair of her shredded silk panties on the table. "Want to talk about it?"
"Where... where did you get those?"
"In the shed."
Rourke looked anxious, like he wished he hadn't agreed to stay the night. Some hero he would make. On the other hand, he looked like he wanted to know what the panties had to do with Ashton Wellington. Good news for the morning paper?
"It was my fault," she said, gathering her composure. Once she told Hunter the truth, she figured he would want to kill Ashton, so somehow, she had to minimize the seriousness of what had happened.
"So tell me. Did you seduce him in the shed, Tessa?" He advanced on her. "Did you? Or did something else go down?"
She fought fleeing to her bedroom to avoid the topic.
She had never told anyone about it. How could she? No one would ever have believed her. But Hunter had instincts that were more attuned than anyone she had ever met. She didn't think she could get away with outright lying.
"What business did you have in the shed?" She tilted her chin up and glowered right back at him, but wondered again where the panties had been that she hadn't found them.
"The intruder had been there. I was looking for clues when I found those." Hunter motioned to the incriminating evidence.
Oh, hell, the stalker.
"Ashton had been drinking, okay?"
Hunter's face turned even more hot-tempered. "He forced you? Damn it, he raped you?"
"No! He tried to get me to do it with him, but I... I knocked him out with a shovel and when he came to, we never discussed the incident. All right?"
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Why? No one would ever have believed me! Ashton can do no wrong! I tried to tell my brother, but he wouldn't hear of it. I'd seen Ashton smoking out by the shed. Michael was still at the art gallery at one of his special exhibits. I thought it was a good opportunity to tell Ashton to go to hell."
"Like you did me?"
"Yeah, well, you deserved it. I told Ashton I didn't want him seeing my brother any longer. He was a bad influence, but it was my fault for confronting him. I shouldn't have interfered. Not when I saw that Ashton was drunk. He left before Michael came home, and we didn't see him for a couple of weeks. He wasn't pleasant to me after that, but he kept his distance."
Rourke whistled. "Hell, a shovel, eh? Good thing you didn't crack that worthless skull of his in half. Not that he wouldn't deserve it, but you wouldn't have deserved the consequences either."
Hunter took Tessa's hand, but she jer
ked free and folded her arms. "Next time you want to ask me a question, do it in a nicer way, and not with a reporter in audience, all right?"
Rourke shook his head. "I swear, Tessa, on my mother's grave, I wouldn't breathe a word of this to anyone. I swear it. Although that worthless piece of shit deserves the bad publicity."
Hunter took Tessa's arms and unfolded them. Holding onto her hands, he scowled, "I don't often apologize for my actions, but finding the evidence in the shed made me a little crazy."
She wanted to say for someone who didn't want to make a commitment, what was the big deal? But she bit her tongue, because somewhere deep in this mountain man's psyche, he seemed to be fighting with himself over wanting to be with her longer.
She gave him a wry smile. "Apology accepted. But don't you dare kill that tapeworm."
"I can't make any promises." He cast Rourke a look like he better not print a word of any of this.
Rourke threw his hands up in capitulation. "Secret's safe with me. But you can't bind me to any oath either if that bastard gets in my way after what he's pulled."
She wanted to laugh. As if Rourke would ever get more violent with a body than shoving a recorder in his face to do an interview. Hunter smiled, as if he were thinking along the same line.
"You're making up to me tonight for this," Tessa warned Hunter, poking her finger against his solid chest.
He learned over and cupped her face, gliding his lips over hers, then captured her mouth and gave her a searing kiss that promised much more. He bowed his head slightly, touching his forehead against hers. "I'll do my best to apologize more, later."
Her lips tingled with heat and pleasure, and she wished Rourke hadn't been here. "Hmm, you'd better."
He grabbed her hat and Michael's jacket and gloves. "Got to take a look around now that it's getting dark. Keep her inside the house no matter what, Rourke. Even if you hear gunfire, don't let her out of your sight."
"Be careful," she said, her heart in her throat, because no matter how capable he seemed, someone had already nearly killed Hunter, and she was having awful feelings about this. Just like before.
Chapter 6
WHY HUNTER HAD JUMPED TO THE CONCLUSION HE had concerning Tessa, he didn't know. Well, yeah, he did. She had really gotten under his skin and one thing he didn't like was being lied to. When he had found her panties on top of a shelf of some old paint cans, an unreasonable rage had filled him. But seeing her expression made him realize he had gotten the scenario all wrong, and he wished to hell his wolf instincts had played more of a role in his handling of the situation.
He meant what he said. He would make it up to her. Hopefully, she was being honest when she seemed to understand his anger and didn't hold a grudge against him for it. But maybe if she stewed about it for a while, she would be mad at him all over again. He wouldn't blame her. Why he had brought up the matter in front of Rourke was another thing.
What had gotten into him? Damn it.
He'd fallen hard for the woman--that's why. For some inexplicable reason, he wanted her for his own, despite the fact she was human, which went against all that he stood for. He took a deep ragged breath, trying to focus on the business at hand. He had every intention of locating the gray tonight, assuming he would be in his wolf form. Hunter figured that as badly as the gray had the hots for Tessa, there was no persuading him to cease his stalking. The lupus garou wanted her for a mate, and if Hunter didn't kill him, he was sure the gray would try to change her. If she didn't go with him willingly, he would murder her.
Hunter's blood heated even more. The gray wouldn't get the chance.
Movement in the woods caught his attention. He peered into the dark and saw a rifle poised in his direction and the bastard holding it. But as soon as Ashton Wellington realized Hunter had spied him, he raised the gun in surrender. Hunter charged toward him, his temper red hot.
He reminded himself the reason he had to get rid of Ashton was to ensure he could tangle with the gray, wolf to wolf, without witnesses. But as angry as he was with Ashton concerning Tessa, he couldn't control the urge to put the sheriff's son out of his misery, quickly.
Ashton stood his ground, although his face had turned as pale as the snow now falling.
"Didn't I tell you to stay away from here?" Hunter growled, using his most lethal voice and glower.
Ashton shivered, and Hunter figured it was due in part to the cold, in part because of his threatening posture.
"I promised Michael I would watch out for his sister, damn it. I already told you that."
Hunter balled up his fist and punched Ashton in the jaw. Pain streaked through his knuckles. Ashton fell back against a pine tree with a grunt.
"That's for attempting to rape Tessa." Hunter readied his fist again.
Ashton dropped his rifle in the accumulating snow and held up his hands in submission. "I didn't mean it. I'm sorry. I was drunk. Angry. I know it doesn't excuse my behavior. Michael has been the only friend I've ever had and when his sister told me to get lost and leave her brother alone because I was a bad influence, something inside me snapped."
Hunter grabbed the rifle, intending to send it over the cliff, but Ashton yelled, "Wait! Hear me out. You wouldn't listen to me last night you were so riled, but someone's stalking Tessa. I thought it was you. Dad gave me hell about being here late last night, but I told him Michael wanted me to promise I would look after Tessa. And I'm going to do it, damn it. I owe her for the way I behaved, and I owe Michael."
He sounded sincere enough, but the guy was always in trouble, according to Tessa. Why couldn't he be lying?
"What about your seeing Michael's girlfriend, Bethany Wade? If you're such a good friend of Michael's, why would you do that?"
Ashton's face darkened. "You don't know the half of it, Hunter. Why did you have to bring that up to my dad? He gave me hell for that, too."
"Maybe you ought to come clean with me, before I throw your worthless carcass off this cliff."
Ashton looked like he was ready to pee his pants. Despite trying to put on a tough guy act, the smell of fear cloaked him. "I didn't kill Bethany. I went to see her that night. The one when I was so drunk. I'd been feeling sorry for myself because Michael had a talent I didn't have, and he was so successful. His painting had nothing to do with me, and I felt left out. While he was getting all his accolades during the showing, I drank too much. After Tessa beaned me with the shovel, I finally came to my senses, somewhat."
He took a deep breath. "I went to see Bethany, although I halfway suspected she would be at the art gallery with Michael. Hell, Tessa was supposed to be, too, but she had stayed home because she had a bout of the flu. Which she gave me also! Anyway, Bethany had been drinking, too. She felt like I did. Michael had a new circle of friends, and we didn't fit into his new lifestyle. She hated all the women who threw themselves at the great artist. His works were beginning to appear all over the states at museums and in books. We knew before long, he wouldn't have time for either of us."
"So you screwed his girlfriend and--"
Ashton's shoulders slumped. "At first, it was because we were mad at Michael. A sneaky form of revenge, I'll admit. But we became really fond of each other. I think we were falling in love. Michael was spending more time with his artwork and exhibits and less time with us, so what difference did it make?"
Hunter growled, "He was your best friend! You could have had the balls to square it with him first."
"Yeah, and lose his friendship?" Ashton shoved his gloved hands in his pockets. "After Bethany died--"
"You're trying to tell me you didn't kill her over a lover's spat and frame Michael for it?"
"Shit, Hunter. I didn't kill Bethany. I figured Michael had done it. Sure, I had been seeing Bethany behind his back just like he said, only he didn't know who it was. We'd been supercautious so no one could ever prove it. I figured he murdered her because he knew she was seeing someone else. Who else would have killed Bethany?"
Hunter sho
ved the rifle into Ashton's chest. "I don't want you coming around here any longer. I told you that last night. I won't warn you again."
Ashton rubbed his jaw, his blue eyes piercing Hunter with a frigid glower. "I promised Michael. Someone's stalking Tessa. I'm not breaking my promise."
"I'm looking out for her."
"As much as I hate to admit it, I'm glad. But you'd better let me in on this. My dad's contacted two ex-cons, extortionists, murderers, although they weren't convicted on the last count since the DA's office couldn't locate enough evidence. Believe me, they wouldn't hesitate to eliminate you. I told my dad you're good for Tessa's protection. But he was so mad about the rifle and everything else, he wouldn't listen. I'll help you."
"If you didn't kill Bethany, I'd say you don't really have it in you."
"Maybe, maybe not. You've solicited that idiot Rourke's help, and he definitely won't be able to protect her."
Hunter glanced back in the direction of the house. "All right, but make sure your dad is agreeable. Let him know we're in on this together. You get yourself killed, I don't want your dad thinking I'm the one who did it."
Ashton bobbed his head up and down. "Okay. You got it. Are you sure you don't want me to stick around a little longer? What if the guy's out here?"
"He probably is. But I don't want your ass out here until your dad agrees. All right?" Hell, when had Hunter become such a damned softy? He ought to have thrown the rotten cuss over the cliff with his new rifle.
"Yeah, agreed." But Ashton looked like he wanted to stay.
"Now, Ashton. You don't want to see me when I'm really pissed. Your dad might have mentioned I'm an ex-Navy SEAL."
"Yeah, yeah, he did."
"Well, we're trained to eliminate any threat no matter how small, so just remember that. Got it?"