“No, it’s extremely forgivable.” She walked back over and laid her hand on his chest. “I lay there looking up at the mirror while you slept. And snored. I felt your steady heartbeat and I…I was simply glad to be there.”
He covered her hand with his and pressed it close. “But I weigh twice as much as you.”
“At least. So eventually I couldn’t breathe and I had to wiggle out from under you. But the feeling of closeness was nice while it lasted.”
Curling his fingers around her hand, he raised it to his lips. “Thank you for putting a romantic gloss on my sorry lack of consideration.” Her sweet description reminded him of the joy of loving her, which produced a predictable response in his nether regions. “Perhaps I can make it up to you this morning.”
“I wish you could.” She sighed. “And don’t think I haven’t thought of it, because I kept hoping you’d wake up sooner so that maybe…”
“I wish you’d woken me.”
“I did shake you once, but you just moaned and rolled over.”
“Damn it. You should have banged a couple of pans together beside my ear. I would have been glad to wake up so I could make love to you again.”
She shook her head. “I couldn’t do it. You needed your sleep. That was my whole point last night, so forcing you to wake up so you could have sex with me wouldn’t reflect very well on my character, now, would it?”
“There’s such a thing as being too conscientious.” But he respected her values, all the same. “What time is it, anyway?”
“It’s nearly seven. The snow has stopped, and the plows will be here before you know it.”
“Seven? Really? The conference starts in two hours!”
“That’s right, and in order to get this place cleaned up, we’ll have to be late, but maybe not too late.”
“So that’s it.” He hadn’t expected to feel such deep disappointment that their private interlude was over.
“That’s it.” She stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “And I’ll never forget this time we’ve had. Now drink your coffee and grab a shower. I found an electric razor and left it on the counter for you. We have to get moving.” Slipping her hand from his, she hurried out of the bedroom.
Although her tone had been brisk and businesslike, he suspected from her earlier description of how she’d felt last night that she was as sad about leaving the cabin as he was. But neither of them could let the world know their private feelings for each other. He’d be the most help to her if he adopted her brisk manner from here on out.
He would bloody well do that, even if it killed him. Hurrying through a shave and shower, he put on the robe. The other robe had been huge on Kate and this one was small on him. He wondered if she’d put on the large size in her haste.
No matter. He turned on the light and began stripping the bed. She might think because he lived in a castle and had servants that he didn’t know how. He could strip a bed with the best of them. He wasn’t sure how good he’d be at making it back up again, but she’d be around to help with that.
After he pulled off the sheets, he held them to his nose and inhaled the sweet scent of making love to Kate. He couldn’t seem to accept that it would never happen again. Surely there would be some way that they could—
“Duncan, can I turn on your phone and call the lodge?”
“Sure, go ahead.” He dumped the sheets in the bathroom and walked out into the main area of the cabin.
She was talking on his phone while she stirred something in a pan, no doubt the oatmeal. He guessed she’d called her grandmother. “Sure, we’ll be ready in about an hour if you can spare…Okay. We’ll be watching for them. See you soon.” She disconnected. “She’s sending a couple of snowmobiles down to get us. She tried to call my cell earlier, but of course it’s dead.”
“Is there enough battery on mine to check Sniffer? We might as well get briefed on what’s being said so we don’t get blindsided when we head into the conference.”
“Good idea. Let’s at least try.” She tapped on the phone and gazed at the screen. When she glanced up at him, her expression was bleak. “I can’t blame you for this, because you didn’t start it, but your Woofers have decided to play hardball.”
“Kate, I can’t believe they sabotaged your dating site. I know it looks bad, but—”
“It’s not about the site. They want to know if you used this time while we were trapped together to get all the dirt on my sister.”
He gazed at her with a sinking sensation in his gut. He’d avoided this topic on his blog, and he’d been criticized for doing so. In his view, no one should have to answer for the actions of family members. “I’m sorry, Kate. I’ve never encouraged that discussion.”
“I know.” She faced him, her expression resolute. “But maybe we needed this to come up to remind us that the battle could get ugly, and we’re on different sides.”
“I don’t feel that way, now.”
“You should, Duncan. It’s still true, regardless of what happened between us.”
He swallowed. “It may be true, but it doesn’t have to ruin what we’ve shared.”
“I’ll try my best not to let that happen.” She handed him the phone.
“Me, too, lass.” But as he read the posts, he wondered if they could possibly hold on to the fragile connection they’d forged in that mirrored bed.
Chapter 7
Sniffer Update: @newshound—What’s the story on Penelope Stillman, Kate’s older sister? Kate’s not talking. #skeletoninthecloset
Kate and Duncan didn’t bring up the subject of Penny again, but it hung between them as they ate a quick breakfast, finished up the laundry, and put the cabin and themselves into some semblance of order. The snowmobiles arrived to carry Kate and Duncan separately to the resort.
The staff members driving them agreed to come back for Duncan’s suitcase and arrange to have Kate’s SUV towed out of the snowbank. Kate used a staffer’s phone to call a reputable window company, and the Stillman name got her an appointment for that afternoon. She wasn’t sure whether she’d be able to get away from the conference, but the spare key was in her purse if she had to delegate that job.
As the two snowmobiles skimmed over the unblemished snow left behind by the blizzard, the clouds moved off to display a sky so blue it hurt Kate’s eyes to look at it. She thought of all the times she and her sister had ridden like this after a storm. Penny, being ten years older, had always been the driver, while Kate was the passenger hanging on for dear life. She hadn’t minded at all.
She’d felt privileged that her big sister, glamorous and daring in all things, had wanted her along. Everyone knew that Grandma Elizabeth was grooming Penny to be the next Stillman pack alpha. Their father, Woodruff, sweet though he was, didn’t suit, so Grandma Elizabeth was looking to the next generation for a Were to inherit her position. Penny, magnificent Penny, had been the obvious choice.
And then, when Kate was seventeen, Penny had fallen in love…with a human. She’d given up everything for him—her family, her position as leader in training, and any hope of inheriting the Stillman millions. But saddest of all, she’d given up her close tie with Kate, the sister who’d idolized her from childhood.
Penny had explained that frequent contact with her Were family would increase the chances that her human husband would stumble upon the truth. Then, assuming he didn’t reject her in horror, he would be responsible for keeping the volatile secret. The human community in which she lived had no idea that Weres existed, and they might react violently if they found out.
At first Kate had grieved along with the other members of her family and her pack. But eventually she’d dried her tears and dedicated her life to preventing such tragedies from happening in the future. She’d created her Web site, Furthebest.com, designed to promote the value of Were-Were matchups. She’d founded Honoring Our Werewolf Legacy, and she’d written her book.
Because Penny had dropped out of the Were community entirely, so
me Weres didn’t even remember that she existed. She and her human mate, Tom Rivers, had adopted two human children. Penny had claimed that she had a blood disorder and Tom had apparently accepted that as reason enough to adopt. But Penny was only making sure that she had no biological offspring who might turn out to be Were, which would expose her and them.
As far as the pack was concerned, Penny might as well be dead. Except she wasn’t, and somebody in the Woofer movement had decided to make an issue of the fact that Kate Stillman, founder of HOWL, had a sister who’d mated with a human. Kate had dreaded the possibility that someday Penny’s name would be mentioned in connection with the Howler movement, but until now, it hadn’t been.
She’d gathered from Duncan’s reaction that he’d known about Penny, maybe for some time. That only increased her respect for him. He’d known and he hadn’t used the information to try to tarnish her cause. But he couldn’t control his followers, and someone had decided the time was right to drag Penny and her choice back into the spotlight in an attempt to embarrass Kate.
Well, let them. Much as she loved Penny, she considered her an object lesson in how human-Were mating generated pain and dysfunction. Penny’s mate and her adopted children had no idea that they were living with a werewolf. Kate couldn’t imagine how a true bond could develop in the face of such a significant deception, but Penny didn’t want to burden her husband with the knowledge of her Were nature.
The snowmobiles rounded a curve in the road and Stillman Lodge, the main structure of the resort, loomed straight ahead. As always, Kate’s heart swelled with pride at her first glimpse of the majestic old building that had stood in this spot for more than a hundred years. Built of native stone and weathered cedar, it lifted three stories into the blue sky.
Its solid, enduring bulk was a source of security for Kate, and she imagined it served that purpose for the entire pack. It provided economic security, as well, for the staff consisted entirely of pack members. In days past, the lodge had been open to humans and Weres alike, and Grandma Elizabeth owned a guest book with Teddy Roosevelt’s signature on one yellowed page. Teddy had not known, of course, that his hosts had been werewolves.
The lodge’s facilities had been expanded, however, when the property was converted into a Were-only resort, one of only two in the world. The other, on a small island off the coast of Washington State, was owned by Duncan’s brother, Colin. A Were-only resort could stand in plain sight if it built a reputation for exclusivity.
Humans trying to reserve a room at Stillman Lodge were always told that the resort was booked for months, even years in advance. Kate herself had helped spread the rumor that certain celebrities chose to stay at Stillman Lodge and had requested complete privacy for themselves and their entourage.
This weekend the resort would indeed be hosting celebrities, but of the werewolf variety. Kate had been secretly dazzled by the guest list, which included pack leaders and representatives from around the world. She’d planned to be on hand to greet them all last night, but instead she’d been with Duncan. She didn’t regret that particular detour for a second.
She’d requested that her driver take her around in back so she could use a rear entrance and scurry up to her room. She didn’t look too rumpled thanks to her laundry project at the cabin, but she wore no makeup and didn’t feel particularly pulled together.
Her hope dimmed as she noticed who was standing on the wide walkway leading up to the main entrance. A camera crew filmed Angela Sapworthy interviewing Kate’s cousin Neil. Angela’s Sniffer tag fit her perfectly. She was a newshound who smelled a story a mile away.
This time, however, she had help from Neil, who’d also inherited the Stillman blond hair and blue eyes. He spotted the snowmobiles and interrupted the interview to come hurrying down the circular drive toward Kate and Duncan.
Kate’s driver was forced to stop to avoid running smack into Neil. Kate wouldn’t have minded so much. His thinly disguised political ambitions included nudging her out of her spot as Elizabeth’s successor so he could have the job. His Woofer leanings didn’t help her like him, either, but she had the feeling he’d take whatever side he found politically advantageous.
“Kate, thank God! We were all so worried about you.”
“Thanks, Neil.” She managed not to roll her eyes. “But we’re fine.”
“What a blessing.” Now that he’d expressed his concern, he walked right past her and held out his hand to Duncan, who’d climbed off the second snowmobile. “Duncan MacDowell. It’s an honor, sir.”
“Thanks.” Duncan shook Neil’s hand. “And you are?”
“Oh, sorry. Neil Stillman. Thought you’d recognize me from my profile on the Woofer site. I’m Kate’s cousin and Elizabeth Stillman’s able assistant.”
Kate swallowed her words of protest. Neil wasn’t Grandma Elizabeth’s assistant, or at least he hadn’t been when she’d left yesterday for the airport.
Neil continued to pump Duncan’s hand. “Welcome to Stillman Lodge. I’ve read Down with Dogma twice. Brilliant. We’re so happy you could make it and that you survived a night with my cousin Kate.” He chuckled as if sharing an inside joke. “There’s a bunch of Woofers inside waiting to congratulate you on that feat.”
Much as Kate wanted to interrupt Neil’s ridiculous monologue, she decided that it could serve as a distraction so she could escape and go in the back way as planned. “Ryan.” She addressed her snowmobile’s driver in a low voice. “Take me to the back entrance as we discussed.”
“You got it, Kate.” He started off again.
They managed to get partway around the circular drive before Angela Sapworthy blocked their retreat. She’d marshaled her camera crew, as well.
“Kate, may I have a quick word?” Angela usually dressed to startle. Today she’d paired tight silver pants with turquoise boots and a turquoise quilted jacket. Her hair, an improbable shade of red that veered toward magenta, had been waxed and sprayed into a punk style that made Kate think of a scarlet porcupine.
Reminding herself that Angela’s tabloid journalism had become all the rage with Weres, Kate squelched the urge to refuse an interview. Even her refusal would become a story or a Sniff, so she might as well try to take control of the news about her. Or about her sister. As she climbed down from the snowmobile, she mentally prepared herself for a question concerning Penny.
Angela motioned to the cameraman and spoke into her handheld mike. “I’m talking now with none other than Kate Stillman, who has just this minute returned from her harrowing adventure. How was your night with Duncan MacDowell, King of the Woofers?”
Kate frowned. “King of the Woofers? When did that happen?”
“I see you’re a few Sniffs behind, Kate. When you said he was no prince, his followers crowned him King of the Woofers. Your followers, of course, crowned you Queen of the Howlers. So tell me, does he snore?” Angela’s glistening red mouth turned up in a carefully orchestrated smile.
Kate remembered that she had zero makeup on. Oh, well. “I thought I was in the middle of a Chainsaw Massacre film festival, Angela. My ears still hurt.” She returned the reporter’s smug smile.
Angela shuddered prettily. “Dreadful. But then, I’m not surprised. Duncan is such a beast.” She gave the word plenty of sexual innuendo. “All that testosterone. Sharing a cabin with him must have been an exhausting experience.”
“You have no idea, Angela. As you can imagine, I’m eager to get back to my suite and freshen up.”
“Of course you are. Such an ordeal. Still, I’m sure he’s magnificent when he’s angry. And you do know how to taunt the beast, Kate.”
“He’s easier to manage when he’s jet-lagged. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I really should—”
“One more thing. Have you heard from your sister, Penelope, recently?”
Kate kept her expression and tone of voice carefully neutral. “Yes, of course. We communicate on a regular basis.” Regular meaning two or three times a year. But she
hadn’t lied. Penny had sent her a short e-mail last week wishing her good luck with the conference.
That was Penny, always classy. Kate was campaigning against the choice Penny had made, and yet she didn’t seem to hold it against her little sister. A familiar ache gripped Kate’s heart at the memory of that brief e-mail.
“Woofers have been asking, as I’m sure you would expect, how you can insist that Were-human mating is so terrible when your sister has chosen that route.”
“Penelope and I hold different views on the subject. That doesn’t mean I love her any less. Now I really must go. The conference has already begun, and I’m expected to be there.”
“There’s a rumor that Penelope will make an appearance this weekend to support the Woofer cause.”
Kate’s pulse quickened. Surely not. Penny had dropped out of pack activities completely and distanced herself from her immediate family. God knew what she’d told her husband, Tom, but he must have accepted the estrangement in addition to the invented story about a blood disorder.
The poor guy might even think the rift was his fault because he didn’t measure up. In a way, he was right, but it wasn’t anything he could fix. Their mother and father would have loved to spend time with Penny, her husband, and her children, as would Kate. But Penny had decided it was safer to minimize all contact.
But Angela was waiting, a gleam of triumph in her heavily made-up eyes, for Kate to respond. Kate gave the only answer that might end this line of questioning. “I hadn’t heard that, but if she comes, I would be happy to see her.” She hopped on the snowmobile. “Great talking to you, Angela!”
Ryan responded to that cue and sped off, sending a rooster tail of snow into the air. Kate wondered if some of that snow had landed on Angela. And if the cameraman caught it. She hoped so.
Duncan watched as Kate got caught in Angela Sapworthy’s web. At least he assumed that was Angela with the red spiky hair and tight silver pants. He’d never met her in person, but the presence of a camera crew and Kate’s obvious reluctance as she climbed down from the snowmobile told him he was right.
Werewolf in Denver Page 9