PRINCE OF WOLVES

by Susan Krinard

  "Joelle." His voice was a hoarse groan/ She was too lost to hear anything but passion in it until his mouth left hers, his hands left her breasts and slipped free of her shirt. Her mouth was still wet with him, filled with the taste of him, and his withdrawal registered with painful slowness. "Damn it. No."

  She focused on him at last, on the strange dull sound of his words. They made no sense. She reached out for him again, and he caught her arms and kept her away, the same easy strength with which he had held her close before.

  "No." His breathing came as rough as her own, but it was no longer the breathlessness of rapture. The green-gold eyes were wild—no longer burning but narrowed in sudden and terrible awareness. They looked, not at her, but within at some vision that drew the denial from the depths of his being. His hands tightened on her arms until the reality of pain dispelled the last embers of passion, and her gasp brought him back.

  She gazed at him, at the tangled gray-streaked hair, at the mouth that had so recently claimed hers, and at his eyes that widened with something almost like fear. That alone got through to her. It brought with it the first stirrings of rational thought. Suddenly she was aware of the cool evening air, the vast emptiness around them, and how thoroughly she had forgotten herself.

  But she had no time to feel any of the emotions that struggled for attention. Luke was backing away, he had released her arms and stared at her now as if she were some terrible apparition and not the woman he had wanted only moments before. Every last hint of grace and confidence and power had deserted him. He half-stumbled over a hidden rock, righted himself without a glance, his eyes never leaving hers.

  Belatedly Joey found her voice "Luke, wait." She struggled to shape her confusion into words that made sense, that would make him explain—but before they came to her, he was gone. Between one moment and the next he had spun on his heel and bolted, and she was left with nothing but empty air to hear her questions.

  For a long, endless span of time she stared after him.

  "Why, Luke?" She let her knees give way and dropped onto the rock to bury her face in her hands.

  Nothing made sense, nothing was clear anymore. "Why?"

  Only the wild geese answered.

  Luke ran. He ran until the sobbing of his breath forced him to a more reasonable pace, until the darkness challenged even his keen vision. He ignored the crashing tumult of his progress through the woods, unashamed of clumsiness he never would have tolerated in himself at any other time. At the moment he cared for nothing but the cleansing freedom of unfettered physical exertion.

  The forest fell silent at his passage. He was not part of it now, not a natural element it accepted and welcomed. His run trampled ground unbroken by any human footfall, and he came as a despoiler, not a friend. Only the gradual return of sanity reminded him of his proper place.

  The frenzy of his flight dropped to a new rhythm. His muscles relaxed into a lope that he could maintain for many kilometers, tireless and even. His mind found its balance again, a harmony with nature that gradually restored some portion of peace. Not entirely, that, it seemed, had been taken from him forever.

  His feet unerringly chose the easiest path over broken ground, through thick stands of fir and pine and over open slopes where night-browsing deer stared after him. They knew his thoughts were not for them.

  She still filled his senses. Though he ran now by instinct, she was with him. For those incredible moments when she had been in his arms, he had paid very dearly. It had been a most terrible revelation.

  He had not guessed the half of it before, that first time he'd seen her. She was different—far, far more different than even his dreams had intimated.

  He slowed as he approached a familiar arch of bare rocky ground, stopping at last just as he reached the place where it fell away into a deep valley. Here the land stretched out vast and wild, he dropped into a crouch and gazed at the mountains where they caught the light of a quarter-moon.

  There was no man-made barrier here to sully the perfection of Nature. No sign of habitation, no ravages of clear-cutting and human carelessness. His own cabin was well hidden, where the lake glittered in the reflection of a perfect, star-laced arc of sky.

  Luke allowed his breathing to steady and his thoughts to clear. It didn't seem as if they could ever be entirely clear again—but for now, for this moment, he had to remember who he was. What he was. Perhaps in so doing, he could forget everything he had come to realize about Joey Randall.

  A lone, clear cry rose above the subtle noises of the night and the thud of his own heart. He raised his head to listen. They were near, speaking to him in their way. The single howl became a chorus. He wondered what she would think if she heard it. Perhaps she did hear it, even now, from the safety of her civilized world.

  Crisp air carried the scent of autumn, the promise of another year's end spent in solitude. He tossed back his head and closed his eyes, longing to join the wolves in their song. But he did not give in to the yearning. Just as he could not give in to what he so desperately wanted. That moment of triumph when he had held Joey in his arms and felt her respond was the first and last time he would ever do so.

  For her sake—and for his—he would never see her again.

  Even the distant, uncounted, uncaring stars in the black pool of sky were a reminder of her Like the glitter of gold in her dark eyes.

  When the wolves howled again, Luke gave himself over to the wild abandon of their song, and to forgetfulness.

  At the end of the first day, when Luke didn't show up in town, Joey wasn't particularly alarmed. Something very strange had happened, something she was still struggling to understand. The encounter had affected him as powerfully as it had her—his final expression as he'd abandoned her at the meadow's edge left no doubt of that.

  But that explained nothing. From the very first time shed seen Luke in the tavern, he had been a mystery. Giving in to his pursuit had only deepened the enigm.a Relentless questions dominated her thoughts, awake and in dreams.

  There was the question of why he had reacted as he did, when it had been so flagrantly clear he still wanted her. Why he had broken their kiss when, for the first time, everything had been right between them—and she had been so close to achieving her goals.

  But the question that haunted Joey most was about herself. She had never believed it would be possible, even for an instant, to find herself at the mercy of something as simple as passion. Or as undeniable. It had seemed reasonable at first to tell herself it had been nothing more than gratitude and relief that her long months of search were at an end. But Joey had never been very good at self-deception. The clarity of her thinking, upon which she so prided herself, would not allow that comfort.

  She knew it was not simple at all when it took no effort to remember the feel of his mouth on hers, to smell the wild masculine scent of him, to imagine herself as lost, again, as she had been then. When her dreams became impossibly vivid, and she no longer struggled to escape him at the end but turned willingly into his embrace and met his passion with one equally savage.

  It was overwhelming. Joey had to admit she was out of her depth. Her reaction to Luke Gévaudan was like nothing she had ever experienced. And now, safe in the quiet rationality of her own room, surrounded by her maps and equipment, she could accept it as a puzzle that must eventually be solved—but not at the expense of her goals. The one thing that had kept her going, always, was the memory of what she had set out to do. Luke had agreed to help her. Whatever price she had to pay would not be more than she could handle.

  If it happened that the price was one she could enjoy, so much the better. With a carefully constructed framework of logic, Joey boxed away the questions and consigned unnecessary emotion to the still place in the depths of her heart.

  When Luke did not put in an appearance on the second day, Joey became concerned. She paced her room and the nearby woods and avoided everyone. On the third day she grew angry. And on the fourth she resolved that the
waiting was going to end.

  There were several people who could tell her what she needed to know, as it happened, she found two of them conveniently together on the afternoon she decided to take matters into her own hands.

  Maggie and Allan Collier were talking in the middle of Main Street when Joey headed out for the bar. She blinked to see the redhead away from her usual station behind the counter, and in the company of the other person most likely to help. As Joey altered course and walked over to join them, they looked up. She had the distinct and uneasy impression that Maggie looked a little guilty, even Collier wore a peculiar expression. It didn't take much imagination to guess at the subject of their conversation.

  "Hello, Joey." Collier examined her from head to toe as if he half expected to find her not quite all in one piece ."We've missed you over the past few days."

  Maggie shot the doctor a quelling look, and her heightened color revealed a dusting of freckles over pale skin. "What Allan means is that—uh—you just hadn't come by the bar in a while, and I had sort of gotten used to your visits." She smiled rather lamely. Joey was even more convinced she had walked in on a conspiratorial conversation on the subject of herself—and, she had no doubt, Luke Gévaudan.

  She forced a smile. "I'm sorry I've been scarce lately, Maggie. And stop giving me that look, Allan. I might have some reason to think you've been keeping an eye on me."

  Maggie had the grace to blush, but Collier merely returned her smile. "It's always a pleasure to keep an eye on a very lovely lady," he said gallantl. Maggie rolled her eyes.

  "I appreciate that," Joey murmured, "more than you know. Both of you." She hesitated, considering the best way to broach the topic of what she needed to learn. "You've both been good friends, and I've been neglectful. The fact is, I've finally made some progress in what I came to Lovell to accomplish."

  Collier raised his brows, not quite concealing the smallest of frowns, Maggie did not bother to hide hers.

  "Don't tell me, " the redhead began, but Joey broke in before she could complete her question.

  "I found my guide, Maggie. I have a way now to do what I came here to do, and everything is just fine." She intercepted Collier's penetrating look. "I'm fine. Really. But I just need to take care of one more thing before my plans are settled."

  Both her friends gazed at her, neither one looking particularly pleased. They both clearly knew who her guide was, even if they hadn't seen her since the day she had made her proposal to Luke. Maggie had made her doubts plain before, though they seemed to have evolved into something more serious. And Collier—there had been that undercurrent during dinner the previous Thursday, another mystery among all the others. If she'd had time for it, Joey would have asked for explanations.

  As it was, she wanted only one thing She shrugged off further equivocation "I hope that one of you can help me. I need to know how to get to Luke Gévaudan's cabin."

  Her announcement had the expected effect. Maggie shook her head, and Colliers usually pleasant expression grew strained. She knew they were working up to lecturing her, and she had a fair idea of the subject of that lecture. Her nerves had been strained almost to the breaking point by weeks of disappointment and days of emotional turmoil. She had reached the end of her rope.

  "I know what you're going to say, both of you. It's not something I need to hear." She deliberately fought to soften the hard note in her voice. "I really can take care of myself. I've been doing it for some time now." Old memories surfaced briefly and were pushed aside. "The only help I need right now is to find out how to track down my guide. He's already agreed to help me, and I just need to make sure he doesn't forget."

  Collier closed his eyes. Maggie ran her hands through her mop of hair. Neither one looked reassured or convinced.

  She waited for a long moment, gazing from one to the other. "If you can't help me," she said at last, "I'm sure I can get the information I need somewhere else."

  There was another span of silence. Joey was preparing to turn on her heel and leave them when Collier cleared his throat.

  "Very well, Joey I can show you how to get to Luke's cabin. It's the better part of a day's travel by foot, going at a reasonable pace." His blue eyes traced over her. "I've no doubt you can handle it—if you're careful." His words carried many layers of meaning. "If you'll come with me back to my office, I'll show you." His glance shifted to Maggie, who hunched her shoulders and shook her head.

  "I have to get back to the bar. It's in your hands." Without a single word for Joey, Maggie turned and left them, dodging a slow-moving truck with a swing of her hips.

  Joey stared after her. With a soft sigh, Collier took her arm and steered her away from the street. "She's very worried about you, you know."

  "I know," Joey muttered. Belated guilt rose in her, quickly suppressed. "And when this is all over, I'll explain everything to her. She's been a good friend."

  They were silent as they walked the few short blocks to Collier's office. He greeted the assistant who served as both receptionist and nurse and pulled Joey into his study. Like him, it was comfortable and pleasantly mellow with age, lined with books and neat but just a little dusty. He sat her down in a worn leather armchair opposite his desk and studied a row of oversized folios stacked on a corner table, selecting one with a nod.

  As he set the volume on the desk between them, he paused to look at Joey with a grave and measured concern. "Joey, you don't need to tell me it's none of my business. I know perfectly well it isn't. But, like Maggie, I don't want to see you get hurt."

  Controlling the urge to grab the folio from his hands, Joey kept her tone level. "I could ask a lot of questions about why you seem to be so sure I'm in some kind of danger. And what was going on between you and Luke during dinner Thursday night." The flicker of surprise on his face told her she had scored a hit.

  "But I don't have the time to indulge in questions, Allan. I'm too close " She leaned forward. "Only one thing matters to me right now. Will you help me?"

  Collier dropped his eyes in answer and busied himself with the unwieldy pages of the book, flipping over detailed sections of map laid out in colors of earth, water, and forest. At last he paused, muttered to himself, and flattened the page before him.

  "Here. This is Lukes land." His gesture encompassed a broad expanse that covered most of the page, dotted with the azure of streams, bordered on one side by a ridge of mountains, and on another, the side closest to town, by a large lake. "He's one of the biggest landowners in this area. Most of it is untouched wilderness."

  Joey reached out to touch the page. So much land? Maggie had hinted about it before, but it was only one of many things she still did not know about Luke Gévaudan.

  As if he had read her thoughts, Collier's hand settled over hers "Joey—what do you really know about Luke?" The pressure of his fingers refused to let her dodge the question, and for once she had to acknowledge his very real concern.

  She sighed. "I know what I need to know." She met his eyes and tilted her chin and did not look away, willing him to understand.

  His hand lifted from hers. "Joey, Joey There are things you should know, so much I should tell you. He stopped himself and shook his head wearily. "But I know when I'm licked. Now pay attention." At once he became brisk and businesslike, explaining the best route to Luke's land, pointing out landmarks that would guide her to where his cabin lay on the far side of the lake. He disappeared for a moment and came back with a photocopied duplicate of the map, which he proceeded to mark with a red pen accompanied by indecipherable notes.

  When he had finished, Joey took the folded map and smiled at the doctor with gratitude she had no need to feign.

  "Thank you, Allan. Thanks for your help—and your concern. When this is over, I'll buy you a big dinner at the lodge." His expression was so glum that she weakened and reached out again to squeeze his hand. "Don't worry about me, Allan. I'll take care of myself. I always have." She turned away before emotion could weaken her resolve.r />
  "Joey"

  Her grip tightened on the doorknob, but she did not turn at his voice.

  "Joey, take care .Take great care."

  She closed her eyes and left the office without a backward glance, clutching the map in her fist.

  Chapter Five

  The next morning was warmer than she expected. Loosening the collar of her jacket, Joey checked the contents of her light knapsack a second time and finished the last bite of muffin. She had forced herself to eat more than she wanted, but she knew she was going to need all the energy she could find during the day ahead.

  Joey studied the map a final time, folded it neatly, and tucked it in her jacket pocket. She had a good seven miles to go over heavily wooded country just to reach the near side of the lake; that would be the easiest stretch, since she'd be able to follow a dirt road haphazardly maintained by the town. After that, she'd be passing onto private land—Luke's land. Three or four miles beyond the opposite shore of the lake lay Luke's cabin. As Collier had said, it was a good day's hike, but she felt nothing but anticipation and excitement at the challenge; it felt good, and right, to be finally doing something.

  She did not dwell on the fact that a very insistent part of her longed to see Luke again.

  The sun had warmed the day even more since early morning; Joey shed her jacket and wrapped it around her waist, pulling the knapsack in place over her shoulders as she started for the road leading out of town. She'd gone a little way in that direction a few times during her explorations, particularly since it was roughly in the direction she had hoped to find the site of the plane crash. But she'd never gone as far as the lake.