Chapter Nine
Wolf awoke with a start, bathed in sweat. Disoriented momentarily, the sudden movement making his body ache, he opened his eyes and blinked away the perspiration. The room, his bedroom, was washed by the early-morning light. His nostrils flaring, he inhaled sharply, a new and unfamiliar scent surrounding him like the caress of a lover.
His muddled senses sharpened, became focused. The scent, delicate and sweet, drifted toward him again. He inhaled deeply, and old, painful memories stirred to life. Then Wolf realized with a start that Sarah lay curled up next to him. Her small hand was pressed against his naked chest, as was her brow. He lay very still, not daring to move, not daring to breathe.
Sometime during the night—and Wolf sure as hell didn’t know when—she had left her side of the bed, turned over and curled up in almost a fetal position against him. His eyes narrowed as he surveyed the small form covered with the crinkled white nightgown that had ridden up on her thighs during the night. Her face looked peaceful, her lips parted in sleep, fine strands of blond hair lying against her cheek.
Without thinking, Wolf barely touched her soft skin as he slipped his finger beneath the silky strands and pushed them back off her face. How serene Sarah looked. An explosion of joy rocked through him as he savored the fact that she was touching him. His heart started a hard, powerful thudding. Her hand was warm against him, as was her moist, shallow breath. Unconsciously his breath seemed to be synchronized with hers as she slept trustingly beside him.
Shifting all his awakening awareness to her, Wolf could feel the cool silk of her hair against him where her brow met the wall of his chest. Her position was endearing, telling him that Sarah probably had little experience with men. Her long, coltish legs were tucked up tightly against her body, not touching him at all. Her position was that of a child seeking safety.
Still, Wolf lay there trembling inwardly, grateful that Sarah trusted him that much—even on an unconscious level. In sleep, people showed their true selves, he believed. If she didn’t trust him, she wouldn’t have found her way into his arms. Savoring Sarah, Wolf closed his eyes tight as tears sprang to them. His mouth moved into a tight line as he fought back the sudden and unexpected deluge of emotion throbbing through him.
A few tears leaked out from beneath Wolf’s lashes, making warm tracks down the sides of his face. Sarah didn’t see him as a miserable failure, even though he’d admitted the truth of his past. What kind of forgiving heart lay in her breast, that she could grant him that kind of understanding—that she hadn’t judged him? He still judged himself harshly—but, at the same time, he savored Sarah’s reaction to him. For the first time in a year, hope entwined his heart. Hope for a future—if he could protect Sarah. If he could keep her safe.
Slowly, because he didn’t want to awaken Sarah, Wolf lifted his arm from where it rested against his body. He didn’t need to open his eyes to know where Sarah lay. He carefully placed his arm across her shoulders.
A sound, like a softened groan, issued from Wolf as his arm rested around Sarah’s shoulders. The moment brought exquisite pain from the past, yet simultaneously was freeing to Wolf. Sarah lay sleeping against him, and he absorbed her into him, silently promising her he’d keep her safe—even if he had to give his life to do it.
Sarah awoke slowly. Morning sounds filtered into her awakening consciousness, and she forced her eyes open. Sunlight poured through the sheers at the window, illuminating the bedroom. What time was it? Groggily she raised her head from the mattress, seeing her pillow, as always, on the floor. It was 9:00 a.m.! She’d overslept. The bed was empty, Wolf’s larger-than-life presence gone.
Turning over onto her back, Sarah closed her eyes. What crazy dreams she’d had last night! Dreams of Wolf holding her so gently that she’d wanted to cry. Lifting her hand, Sarah realized with a start that her cheeks contained dried tears. Where did dreams end and reality begin? Had she really been in Wolf’s arms last night?
Sarah lay there, her gaze on the plaster ceiling as she absorbed fragments of memories, dreams, from last night. Unconsciously she slid her arm across the bed to where Wolf had slept. The sheet was cool to her touch, but a slight depression still existed where he’d lain. Her heart did funny leaps as she felt her way through the possibility that Wolf had held her as she slept. A part of her was disappointed. If he’d held her, he could have gone one step further and kissed her. And then she’d have awakened, and Sarah knew, in the dreamy state between wakefulness and sleep, she would have made love with Wolf.
The thought was as startling as it was heated. With a tremulous sigh, Sarah closed her eyes. Yes, she wanted to love Wolf. The man had had so much taken away from him. So much. She knew instinctively that she could heal some part of him by loving him. Making love was a simple act that could do so much to heal—or to rend apart. Sarah knew that from bitter experience. Her disastrous relationship with Philip had taught her that she didn’t have what was necessary to make a relationship work.
Wolf’s love of Maria was something she could understand—that special, fierce emotion that overlapped each day’s activities, that gave each hour a special meaning. Opening her eyes, Sarah rolled to her side and tucked her hands beneath her cheek. She stared at Wolf’s pillow, which had been punched and shaped to cradle his head.
Worry over how Wolf was this morning after the beating made her get up. Pushing her hair off her face, she brought her legs across the mattress and rested her toes on the carpeted floor. Outside the closed bedroom door, she could hear Wolf moving around.
Concerned, she quickly got dressed and brushed her hair. She ignored the crutches in the corner. Today she would walk a lot more on her still tender feet, she decided. She could no longer afford the luxury of remaining crippled. Wolf was in as much danger as she was, and he needed to know she was strong and reliable. Besides, sapphires needed to be dug, faceted and readied for Kirt Wagner, her distributor, by the end of the month. Without the needed money, Sarah knew, she wouldn’t be able to make her mother’s nursing-home payment. And that just couldn’t happen.
She opened the door and discovered Skeet there to greet her. She smiled and patted the dog’s broad head. He turned and trotted alongside her as she moved down the hall. Sarah found Wolf in the kitchen, making breakfast. The smell of ham was heavenly. She stood at the entrance watching him cook.
“Morning,” Wolf said. He’d awakened a half hour earlier. Now he turned to see Sarah standing uncertainly, her blond hair framing her face and shoulders. Today she’d dressed in well-worn jeans and a green tank top, leaving her feet bare. Her blue eyes looked warm and serene, in sharp contrast to how he felt inside this morning. Getting to hold Sarah had been a double-edged sword, Wolf thought, arousing other, more sensual feelings of longing to plague his wounded heart.
Sarah smiled sleepily and said, “Hi…” She moved slowly toward the gas stove, where Wolf stood, turning the ham in the skillet. “I overslept.”
Wolf tore his gaze from hers. The sweetness of her innocent smile, the care in her azure eyes, damn near unglued him. It took everything he had to stop himself from putting down the fork, letting go of the skillet and sweeping Sarah uncompromisingly into his arms.
Scowling, he forced himself to pay attention to the frying meat. “That makes two of us.”
“Yes…” Sarah looked at her watch. “It’s almost nine-thirty. How are you feeling?”
Wolf tendered her a slight smile. His face was still puffy, and one corner of his mouth hurt like hell. “I’ve missed something by not seeing you this time of morning,” he admitted huskily. When Sarah tilted her head, not understanding his comment, Wolf added, “You look pretty.”
Heat suffused Sarah’s face, and she quickly avoided his burning look. Had Wolf really held her last night? His voice was low and vibrating, like the earthy growl of an animal. Her heart suddenly pounding, she turned and moved to the opposite counter. His compliment had shaken her. It was as if he could look into her heart and mind and kn
ow that she wanted to kiss him, to love him.
“Thank you,” she whispered, reaching for two plates from the cupboard. But to love Wolf meant to trust him, to give everything she felt to him. And Sarah couldn’t do that—the danger to them was too real. What if Wolf was killed? Sarah hated herself for thinking it, for allowing herself to feel, even for a moment, the terrible pain it created in her heart. Somehow she was just going to have to deny her feelings toward Wolf. Grasping at another topic, she said, “You still didn’t tell me how you’re feeling.”
Wolf’s mouth curved again. “How do I look?” he asked dryly.
“Like hell.”
“Well, that’s about how I feel.”
Sarah placed the plates on the table and got out the flatware. “Your face is a mass of bruises, Wolf. Shouldn’t you go to the doctor? You’ve got to be in a lot of pain.”
“I’m okay. I called in and told my boss I was taking the day off. I want to do some checking around for those three men.” The pain of longing he felt for Sarah at that moment was far greater than the pain from the beating he’d received the night before. He wondered distractedly if Sarah realized how much he wanted her.
After placing two paper napkins beside their plates, Sarah went over and poured them each a cup of coffee. “Are you going to report this to Sheriff Noonan?”
“Yes, I will,” Wolf assured her. He saw the fear darken her eyes. “Stop worrying.”
“How can I?”
“Because I can take care of myself, that’s why.” Although not very well, it was obvious, Wolf thought, feeling a deep, cutting doubt that he could keep Sarah safe. He motioned for her to sit down. “How do you want your eggs?”
Eating was the last thing on Sarah’s mind. Something had changed between them, something that was now translucent, like a fine blue sapphire revealing its true shimmer in sunlight after merely glowing in indoor light. Sarah stood several seconds longer than necessary, caught in the burning intensity of his gaze.
Wolf saw the look, and his mouth went dry. She was as hungry for him as he was for her. The realization was startling, lush. Never had Wolf wanted a woman more than he did Sarah. Had she known that he was holding her last night? Could that explain the subtle change in her attitude toward him? He was afraid to ask. Afraid of finding that the answer was only some silly dream of his scarred heart.
“Wh-what?”
“Eggs,” he repeated gruffly. “How do you want them?”
“Uh…scrambled, please.” Sarah quickly turned away, her cheeks burning like fire. Shakily she placed the plate of ham on the table and sat down. What was going on? One moment she’d glanced at him, only to find herself gently snared in his fierce dark eyes, eyes that spoke a silent language of need for her. Rubbing her face, Sarah wondered if it was her overactive imagination. It had to be! But the dream, the exquisite memory of his arm around her, drifted back to her as she sat there, her heart slowly coming back to a normal beat.
Fighting to overcome her powerful feelings toward Wolf, she croaked out, “You know Noonan won’t help you. Reporting this will be a mistake.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. I want the report, Sarah. When I catch those men and bring them up on charges, Noonan isn’t going to be able to sweep it under the rug like he’s done in the past.”
Her eyes widened considerably. “You’re going after them?”
“Yes.” Wolf had scrambled six eggs. Sliding half onto her plate and half onto his, he set the skillet back on the stove.
She watched as he sat down and gave her a slice of toast. “You’re walking on Noonan’s territory. He won’t take kindly to you investigating,” she warned.
Wolf buttered his toast and took a forkful of scrambled eggs. “Honey, I don’t care what Noonan does or doesn’t like.”
“Oh.” Because of her worry for him, Sarah couldn’t even taste the eggs or the toast. The silence in the kitchen deepened as they ate. Half the eggs still remained when Sarah finally gave up and pushed the plate away.
“Aren’t you going to eat them?” Wolf asked incredulously.
“No.”
“Why not? Are you full?”
With a half shrug, Sarah pulled the cup of steaming coffee toward her. “Not exactly.”
“Look at me.”
Sarah refused.
“Sarah?” Wolf placed his hand on her arm. “What’s wrong?”
The gentleness in his voice forced the truth from her. His fingers, long and callused, seemed to brand the skin of her arm where they rested. She ached to fling her arms around him. “I…uh, I’m worried about you. Okay? Those three jerks who jumped you could do it again. Next time…” She looked away. “Next time they might kill you, Wolf.”
Wolf’s fingers tightened on Sarah’s arm. Her forlorn expression wasn’t lost on him. She cared for him. The discovery was wonderful. Exhilarating. And he wouldn’t play games with her by asking her why that worried her. Instead, he said softly, “I haven’t been taken out yet, Sarah. I’ll be careful, I promise.” When she lifted her chin and looked at him, his heart melted with such fierce love for her that it nearly smothered him. “I’ve got too much to live for. Do you understand that?” he said roughly.
Sarah wasn’t sure what he meant by that statement. She was bathed in the shadowed look from his gray eyes, and his voice, low and soft, flowed across her as if he’d stroked her. Shaken, she could do nothing but nod, words jammed uselessly in her constricted throat.
Wolf nudged the plate in her direction. “Go on, try to finish the eggs.”
Touched to the point of tears, Sarah hung her head, her curtain of blond hair hiding her reaction. She ate everything on her plate, not tasting the food, but happier than she’d ever been—and more frightened than she would ever have thought possible.
“What if Noonan plays rough?” Sarah asked Wolf later as he got ready to leave to make out a report.
Wolf shoved his billfold in his back pocket. Today, since he was off duty, he’d dressed in jeans and a blue plaid cowboy shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Sarah sat on the couch, worry reflected in her face and voice.
“If Noonan or Summers starts playing for keeps,” Wolf said as he turned to face her, “I’ve got an ace up my sleeve.”
“What’s that?” How darkly handsome Wolf looked, Sarah thought. He was more cowboy than forest ranger. She could easily envision him astride a horse.
“My friends.”
“Your team from Peru?”
“Yeah.” Wolf walked over and sat down next to her. Sarah deserved a full explanation. He didn’t want to cause her any more worry than necessary, but it was hard not to get distracted. She had left her hair down instead of putting it up in braids today, and he ached to sift his fingers through it.
“Sean Killian and Jake Randolph are my best friends. Jake was in the Marine Corps, like me—we got out at the same time. Killian was in the French Foreign Legion, along with Morgan Trayhern, my boss, and that’s where they met, a long time ago.
“I need to give you some background on my work, Sarah,” he continued, “and the people I work for. Morgan Trayhern is a Vietnam vet who got shafted by the Marine Corps. They had him up on treason charges for leaving his company when it was overrun by the enemy in Vietnam. Everybody in the States swallowed the cover-up story, except for his family and the woman he fell in love with, Laura Bennett. She began investigating Morgan’s past, and together they found out a CIA boss had framed him. It’s a hell of a story, and he’s a hell of a man.”
“Sounds like Laura isn’t too bad herself,” Sarah said.
Wolf nodded. “She’s a fighter, just like you.”
Eyeing him, Sarah added, “So Perseus could bring their troubleshooting skills here?”
“That’s right.” Wolf scowled. “I may ask them to fly into Philipsburg if I can’t handle this situation on my own.” He reached out and caressed her pale cheek. Her eyes were as huge as those of a child being told a scary story. “They’re good men, Sarah, not killer
s. If I can settle this thing with Summers and his men peacefully, I will. No one hates fighting more than I do.”
She released a breath of air. “I am glad you have a backup plan,” she admitted.
He grinned, even though it hurt like hell. “If I didn’t learn anything else in Peru, I learned to rely on my team, to ask for help. I’ll be back by noon, and I’ll take you to lunch.” He pointed to her feet. “Soak them in hot epsom salts and then pack them in ice.”
Sarah felt absolutely bathed in his undeniable caring. “I will.” She reached forward and gripped his hand. “Wolf, be really careful, okay?”
“For you, I will be,” he promised huskily, forcing himself to leave. It was that or sweep her into his arms. Rising, he said, “I’m leaving Skeet here with you. My rifle is in the bedroom. Keep the doors locked, and don’t answer the phone. Understand?”
Sarah nodded, the reality of her situation burying the joy of having discovered so many things about Wolf. “I promise,” she said solemnly.
When Wolf entered the jail, a man dressed impeccably in a gray silk suit, white shirt and navy tie was talking to Noonan. Noonan gave Wolf a squinty look. The man next to him turned with a calculating glance.
“Looks like you ran into a Mack truck,” Noonan drawled.
Wolf closed the distance, his intuition screaming a warning about the man in the suit. He had gunmetal-gray hair, cut short and neat, dark brown eyes that were like bottomless caves, and ramrod-straight posture.
“It wasn’t a truck, Sheriff.” Wolf threw three photocopies of hospital reports down on the officer’s desk. “I want you to make out a warrant for the arrest of these three men. They jumped me last night at Sarah Thatcher’s cabin. They made the mistake of going to the emergency room to get treatment after leaving me unconscious on the cabin floor.”
Noonan’s mouth dropped open. He snapped it shut just as quickly. Glancing at the man in the suit, he hesitantly reached for the hospital records.
“Well, now…” He slowly perused each set of copies.
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