Werewolf in the North Woods (Wild About You Book 2)

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  He didn’t blame her. But she’d done an incredible job of dealing with him as a wolf. He didn’t want to put too much importance on that, but she’d handled the experience with a calm acceptance that made him start to dream a little.

  Once they found the stairway leading back to the room he was using, she made the trip up with a little more confidence and opened the panel. On impulse, he held back and stretched out on the stone floor of the tunnel. Then he commanded his body to shift again.

  “Roarke?” She called to him from the opening in the wall. “Roarke, are you all right down there?”

  Slowly the wolf disappeared and the man emerged. Before meeting Abby, he would have said he preferred his wolf shape to his human one, even though he spent far more time as a human. The wolf felt more majestic to him, and he gloried in the physical strength and the heightened senses.

  But Abby had changed that. His human form allowed him to communicate with her, and until tonight he hadn’t realized how important that was to him. He’d been frustrated listening to her talk and being unable to respond. And of course, he could make love to her in human form.

  Heart beating in anticipation, he climbed the stairs.

  Abby quickly figured out that Roarke had decided to shift before coming into the room. He was shy about transforming in front of her, and she didn’t want to push him. Truthfully, she wasn’t sure how she’d react to witnessing the act firsthand. Before getting to know Roarke, the transformation might have bothered her.

  Now she didn’t think it would. Spending time with him in wolf form had been strange at first, but she’d soon become used to it. Although he couldn’t talk to her, he’d managed to let her know what he wanted her to do. And he was a most magnificent wolf.

  But as he walked into the room and closed the revolving panel, almost godlike in his naked glory, she forgot all about the beauty of the wolf as she contemplated the majesty of the man. She could see traces of the wolf in his dark blond hair and green eyes. His lithe movements suggested extreme athleticism, which made sense when she thought about the distance he’d covered tonight in order to find her.

  Once again she remembered the bloody paw prints and wondered if duty had driven him to such great lengths or another emotion, the same one she was battling every time she looked at him. He’d said back in the forest that he was growing attached. But she was attached to any number of things—her hybrid car, her cute little apartment in Phoenix, her favorite Mexican restaurant.

  He turned to her. “You were terrific.”

  “You’ve been pretty terrific, yourself.” She glanced at his hands, although to do that she had to ignore another part of his anatomy that held great interest for her. “By rights your hands and feet should be all torn up.”

  “One of the benefits of shifting is rapid healing. I’ve shifted twice since my run through the forest, and all I have are a few red spots.” He held up his hands, palms toward her, and sure enough, they were practically healed.

  “Thank you for getting here so fast.”

  “I had to.”

  That sounded like the call of duty to her. So maybe he felt lust and a great sense of responsibility, and logically, after all they’d been through, he felt attached. She, on the other hand, was falling in love. With a werewolf.

  “Grandpa Earl is the one who told Gentry I was with you, Roarke. I’m so sorry about that. Gentry said he got suspicious about the trip and went over to talk to my grandfather, who was so proud of our expedition that he bragged about it.”

  Roarke sighed. “That’s my fault. I should have told him not to tell anyone, but I didn’t imagine that Gentry would go over there.”

  “I think we all underestimated Cameron Gentry.”

  “Yeah.”

  “But did you find the Sasquatch pair?”

  “I did, and they’re holed up in a cave waiting for me to come and help them board a helicopter.”

  “That’s wonderful, Roarke.”

  “Maybe not. It was supposed to be Gentry’s helicopter, and I’m not sure how that will work, now.”

  “Oh.” She had to admit having Gentry turn into a smarmy kidnapper changed things.

  “And there’s another thing. I said I’d come as a wolf so they’d recognize me. If I lead them out to the helicopter that way, it takes Earl out of the running as an observer.”

  She tamped down a rush of disappointment. “He’ll never know what he missed, anyway. If I can see them, he’ll be thrilled. It’s way more validation than he ever dreamed of.” She shrugged. “But at this point, we don’t know what’s going to happen. We have to get out of this mess, first.”

  “Yeah, we do.” Roarke glanced at the pile of camping gear in the corner. “I should have told Gentry to send your stuff up here.”

  “Good thing you didn’t or the person bringing it might have found us missing when we went to visit Donald.”

  “True.”

  “My stuff’s not important.”

  “Guess not.” Roarke gazed at her, his expression guarded. “Look, I know what we said we’d do after finding Donald, but you must be wiped out. We don’t have to—”

  “But I want to. It’ll probably be our last chance.”

  Regret flashed in his green eyes. “Probably.”

  “But I desperately need a shower, first.” She began stripping off her clothes.

  “I could wash your back.”

  “To hell with my back.” She tossed her underwear on the floor and headed for the bathroom. “If you’re climbing in the shower with me, pay attention to the good parts, please.”

  Laughing softly, he followed her. “Yes, ma’am.”

  After only a few minutes in the shower with him, she could vouch for his ability to take direction. She’d never been washed so thoroughly or enjoyed it more. He chose not to bother with a washcloth and used his talented hands instead. After her second climax, he hoisted her up against the shower wall and pinned her there with one firm thrust of his cock.

  On yet another adrenaline high, she watched the water cascade over his powerful back and run in rivulets through his wet chest hair as he pumped, driving her inevitably toward another climax.

  He held her slippery body easily and she never gave a thought to falling. His display of strength was a turn-on she never would have expected, perhaps because he wasn’t vain about it. He used his physical abilities for good…and this was very good.

  When she came again, her cries echoing off the marble walls, she thought he’d take his pleasure, too. Instead he simply held her. A muscle in his jaw tightened, which was the only indication he was under any sexual stress.

  As her tremors subsided, she gave him a questioning glance. “Roarke?”

  “Soon.” Slowly he withdrew and eased her feet to the shower floor. His cock quivered as he turned to shut off the water. Grabbing one of the large towels hanging beside the shower, he wrapped her in it before scooping her up, towel and all, and carrying her into the bedroom.

  He didn’t seem to mind that he was still wet, although holding her towel-wrapped body in his arms soaked up some of the drips. Then he laid her like a precious package in the middle of the bed. It was a king-sized bed, so she could only imagine the upper-body strength required to place her in the exact center.

  She was not a small woman at five-nine, and no man had ever made her feel dainty until now. No man had ever made her feel cherished, either. Maybe it took a werewolf to do that. Climbing into bed, he unwrapped the towel.

  Once again she had the image of being a gift that he treasured. “How do you do that?”

  “Do what?” He smoothed back the white terrycloth towel and began to kiss her, starting with her cheeks and moving to her throat.

  “Make me feel precious.”

  “You should feel that way.” He dotted her shoulder with more kisses. “You are precious.”

  “But I’ve never thought I was.”

  He placed soft kisses on her other shoulder before moving to her breasts
. “Then you were in bed with the wrong guy.”

  And now she was in bed with the right guy…one last time. She wanted to be able to enjoy this without thinking about the inevitable parting, but the more he kissed her as if memorizing her body, the more emotional she became.

  Finally she pushed him away and sat up. “Damn it, why do you have to be so good at this?”

  He sat up, too, and gazed at her. “If you want me to stop, then—”

  “Of course I don’t want you to stop!”

  He reached for her, and she backed away. He sighed and scrubbed a hand through his wet hair. “Abby…”

  “It’s just not fair. You’re the perfect guy, and you’re…you’re a werewolf.” She hadn’t meant to cry, but it had been a very long day and an even longer night. The more she tried not to cry, the faster the tears came.

  Roarke reached for her again, and she jumped off the bed, still crying. “I’m ruining this,” she choked out between sobs. “And I can’t seem to help it. I’m ruining our last time together, and you didn’t even get to come, and…I hate this, Roarke!”

  “Maybe I should go.”

  She stared at him through her tears. “Maybe you should. I thought when you left camp yesterday that was the end, but it wasn’t. Here we are again, and you’re making beautiful love to me…again. It’s like pulling a bandage off bit by bit, drawing out the pain, instead of ripping it off all at once.”

  He nodded. “I know exactly what you mean.” Leaving the bed, he walked into the bathroom. “I’ll get dressed.”

  She swore she heard the crack of her heart breaking, but instead it was the sound of the revolving panel opening about two inches. She grabbed the towel off the bed and wrapped herself in it. “Roarke! Someone’s—”

  “It’s me, Abby.”

  She recognized Aidan’s voice as Roarke charged out of the bathroom with his shirt half-buttoned. He pushed open the panel. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “Busting you out.” Aidan stepped into the room. “If you were having sex, I apologize, but we need to get the hell out of this house. Gentry is crazy.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Roarke glanced at Abby, whose eyes were huge with distress. “It’ll be fine,” he said gently. “Just get some clothes on and we’ll go.”

  “Not without Donald.”

  “No, not without Donald. We’ll get him out, too.”

  “Okay, then.” She scooped up the clothes she’d so recently taken off and hurried into the bathroom.

  Roarke rounded on Aidan. “Could you have maybe done that without the drama? You scared her to death.”

  “She needs to be scared. Gentry’s sure that she’s cracked the werewolf code and his solution is to put her under permanent house arrest for her protection and ours.”

  “The hell with that shit.”

  “He’s lining up support, Roarke. He’s consulted with several pack alphas and they all believe that he has no choice. She’s a security risk. Even our own father has reluctantly agreed that something has to be done, and this is the temporary solution until a better one can be found.”

  “Gentry couldn’t get away with keeping her prisoner. Her grandfather would move heaven and earth to find her, and he’d start here.”

  “He’s already been here.”

  “What?”

  “He showed up early tonight. Gentry wasn’t here, of course, because he was out collecting Abby and Donald, but the housekeeper reported that Earl was worried that he shouldn’t have been so free with the information about your trip with Abby.”

  Roarke blew out a breath. “That was my mistake for not telling him to keep it quiet.”

  “What’s done is done, so don’t beat yourself up. Anyway, Gentry called Earl once he returned with Abby. Got the guy out of bed with the news that the two of you had abandoned the Sasquatch hunt and eloped to Vegas.”

  Roarke laughed. “Earl’s too smart to believe that.”

  “It seems that soon afterward, you sent him an email confirming it.”

  “I couldn’t have. My BlackBerry was in the…” Roarke crossed quickly to the pile of camping gear, but after rummaging through it twice he had to conclude that his BlackBerry was in Gentry’s evil clutches. “Okay, so he might be able to fool Earl for awhile, but Abby has a bunch of family members in Phoenix. When she doesn’t get back when she’s supposed to, they’ll start investigating.”

  “Not if they get emails from her BlackBerry saying that she’s in love and she’s flying with you to New York to meet her new in-laws. He has her BlackBerry now, too.”

  Roarke wanted to throw something. “Doesn’t he know I won’t let him keep her locked up?” Or worse. Roarke could imagine Gentry arranging for an accident to befall Abby while she was under his protection.

  “He’s counting on pressure from the rest of the Were community to keep you in line.” Aidan studied him. “Unless you’d like to lay claim to her yourself, and settle this?”

  God, that was tempting, but he would never coerce Abby like that. “And then what? Hold her prisoner in New York, instead? That’s still wrong. You fought for Emma’s freedom.”

  “Because I knew, from all that I’d learned about her, that she was trustworthy. I’d had her under surveillance for months, remember? You’ve known Abby a matter of days.”

  Roarke realized that was true, and yet it seemed he’d known her far longer. Logically, Aidan had a point, but in his gut Roarke knew he could trust Abby. Convincing Aidan wouldn’t be easy, though.

  “Couldn’t we just tell Gentry that we’re taking Abby to New York and we’ll accept responsibility for her?”

  “Number one, he wouldn’t just let us go because he doesn’t trust us to do the right thing. He doesn’t approve of the freedom the Wallaces have given Emma, let alone an unknown person like Abby. Second of all, if you took Abby back home, our father would put her under lock and key, too. He doesn’t have any more reason to trust her than Gentry does.”

  “Except his son’s word that she won’t betray us.”

  “In order to get that blessing, you’ll have to take her back there, and I’m telling you, Gentry won’t just let her go. We’ll have to force the issue.”

  Roarke gazed at his brother. “So what is going to happen after we bust her out of here?”

  Aidan met his gaze. “I’m leaving that up to you.”

  Roarke realized that although Aidan didn’t have reason to trust Abby, he was willing to trust him. That was a hell of a lot of responsibility. He took a deep breath. “Thanks, bro.”

  “Roarke…” Aidan hesitated. “We could make this escape a lot better as Weres.”

  “Yeah, but Abby and Donald couldn’t keep up with us.”

  “I’m not thinking of the running part. I’m thinking of the fighting part.”

  Roarke glanced at the bathroom doorway. “Don’t tell Abby there might be fighting.”

  “I won’t, but we both know it could happen.”

  “We can’t shift. I’ve promised Abby we’ll get Donald out, and he can’t see us in wolf form.”

  Aidan looked at him. “So we’ll blindfold him.”

  “And we’ll tell him we’re doing this because…”

  “Because…it’s the only way he’s getting out of here and he has to trust us that it’s the best thing.”

  Roarke frowned at him.

  “Hey, don’t expect me to come up with all the answers. Maybe Abby will have an idea.”

  “For what?” Abby walked out of the bathroom dressed in her rumpled hiking clothes.

  Roarke turned to her. “Giving Donald a good reason why we need to blindfold him.”

  “Why blindfold him at all? That’ll create a serious problem for the poor guy.”

  “Because Aidan and I will be most effective for this escape if we operate as wolves. Our senses will be sharper.”

  Abby stood with her hands on her hips, her gaze thoughtful. “All right. I’ll tell Donald we’re making our escape with
the help of two very large, very protective dogs, which are…part wolf. That way you don’t have to blindfold him.”

  Roarke wasn’t crazy about masquerading as a domesticated dog, but losing the blindfold would mean they wouldn’t be leading Donald around all the time. “And where did these dogs come from all of a sudden?”

  “They’re mine, but Grandpa Earl’s been keeping them up here for me until I had a place big enough for them in Arizona. They dug under the fence and tracked me here.”

  Aidan nodded. “It’s flimsy, but it might work, and I have to admit it’s an improvement over the blindfold. Abby, if you don’t mind turning around, I need to take off my clothes.”

  “Wait, bro,” Roarke said. “We don’t have a plan.”

  “Sure, we do. We shift, use the tunnels to get Donald, and leave.”

  “On foot? Or in our case, on paws?”

  “Of course not. I rented a Town Car, which is sitting in the circular drive. We sneak around to that and make our getaway—people in the front, wolves in the back.”

  Abby glanced at the dim light filtering through the curtains. “We’re running out of darkness to sneak in.”

  “I know,” Aidan said. “But that can’t be helped.”

  Roarke stared at her bright red hair. “I wish you had a hat. That hair is like a beacon.”

  “Well, I don’t, and borrowing Donald’s neon green hat isn’t going to help matters.” She looked at Aidan. “I’ll drive the Town Car. Donald will be a nervous wreck by then.”

  Aidan reached in the pocket of his slacks and handed her the keys. “I hope you’re as cool under fire as you appear to be, Abby Winchell.”

  “Don’t worry. I am.”

  “She absolutely is.” Roarke took off his watch and gave it to her. “I don’t want to leave this.”

  “Good point.” Aidan took off his and handed it to Abby as well.

  She looked at Aidan’s watch. “I suppose yours is as pricey as Roarke’s.”