by Eve Langlais
Her brow furrowed. “Want to fill me in on how you got that way?”
He could, but he doubted she’d believe him. He shrugged his shoulders. His wolf recognized this woman as their mate. There was one sure way to know for sure. It was impossible for a werewolf to speak any untruth to its mate. A lie would confirm it. “Haven’t got a clue.”
Liam’s jaw clamped down as a bolt of sharp pain stabbed through his chest. He swallowed down a grunt and reached out for the banister for support. The lie burned through him in hot waves that scalded his internal organs and left a bitter tang on his tongue. He breathed through the discomfort, nostrils flared, as he waited for the effects of the lie to pass. Gods. He let out a gust of breath. It was true. This woman—whoever she was—belonged to him.
“Seriously, I can’t talk to you while you’re standing there like that.”
A smile tugged at Liam’s lips. Modesty meant little to a werewolf. “Like what?”
She waved her hand up and down. “Like that!”
Liam folded his arms across his wide chest. He didn’t even know her and he already knew that he liked to see her flustered. “You mean naked?”
Her eyes went wide again. “Yes! I mean, doesn’t it bother you?”
Liam shrugged a casual shoulder. “Not really. If it would make you feel more comfortable, you can join me.”
She drew in a sharp breath. “Not a chance in hell, buddy!” She stepped over the pile of discarded wood and stomped toward the kitchen. “I’ve got a Beretta in the drawer and I’m not afraid to use it. Cover yourself up or you can take your ass back outside where I found you.”
She jerked open the drawer and pulled out the handgun. Her hand shook as she pointed it at him but her jaw squared stubbornly, telling him she’d have absolutely no problem pulling the trigger if need be. Good. He liked that she had backbone.
“What’s your name?”
Her jaw hung slack as though she couldn’t believe he would ask her that while she had a gun trained on him. “What?”
“You know, your name? That thing people call you when they want your attention.”
She let out an exasperated huff. “My name’s Devon Kincaid. Now how about getting some damn clothes on.”
Snarky. He liked that, too. His wolf purred with approval in the recess of his mind. If the damn animal had his way, they’d have her on her back before they even had a chance to break the ice. Down boy. Liam gave the wolf a mental shove. The mating instinct was intense and if Liam didn’t force himself to ignore it, it would land him in trouble. A bullet wouldn’t kill him, but it would sure as hell sting.
“I’d be more than happy to oblige you if I had any clothes to throw on. Care to give me a hand with that?”
“I don’t have anything you can wear and I have no idea where your clothes are.” Devon’s arm relaxed and the gun dipped toward the floor. “You weren’t wearing anything when I found you. But the least you can do is throw a sheet around your waist.”
The last thing Liam wanted to do was piss her off. Especially since her trigger finger looked a little shaky. He walked back into the bedroom and jerked the sheet from the bed, flinging it loosely around his waist. He stepped back out onto the landing to find her leaning against the kitchen counter. She let out a shaky breath and when she caught him in her peripheral vision she pushed herself away from the counter to face him, back straight and shoulders squared.
She cast a sidelong glance his way. “Thanks.” Liam moved to come down the stairs and she brought the gun back up, the palm of her free hand facing out to stop him. “If you don’t mind, I’d rather you stayed put.”
He liked that she was cautious. Only a fool would invite close contact with a perfect stranger who could easily overpower her. Devon had a good head on her shoulders and obviously knew how to handle herself in a potentially dangerous situation. Which made him wonder how she’d learned that lesson. His wolf stirred once again. Whether he posed a threat to her or not, Liam was one hundred percent predator. Some part of her must have sensed it. Must have feared it. But he vowed that after today, she would never be afraid of anything ever again.
Chapter Two
Devon hadn’t been kidding when she’d said she’d shoot. Dazzling good looks aside, she didn’t know anything about this guy. She’d found him naked and bloody in the middle of a blizzard for Christ’s sake. Not exactly something that would bolster her confidence in thinking he was a good guy. She looked him over from head to toe, amazed he didn’t have a single visible injury. The guy had been bloodied like someone had given him a severe ass kicking. It made absolutely no sense.
“I can stay right here. No problem.”
The timbre of his voice was warm and decadent with the slightest rasp. It reminded her of a burning fire on a chilly night and it heated her blood. Stop it, Devon. So what if he was good-looking? So what if his voice made her want to moan and the sight of him made her breath catch? She’d known plenty of guys who had charm and good looks in excess. It didn’t mean anything. It didn’t mean he’d earned her compassion.
“Okay, I gave you my name, now how about yours.”
A wry grin spread across his sensual lips. Devon cleared her throat and pulled her focus from the intensity of his dark brown eyes. His stare swallowed her whole. Made her feel as though she were about to be devoured. That intensity didn’t frighten her, though. Instead, it made her blood quicken and her heart race.
“I’m Liam Murphy,” he said.
“You’re not local.”
His brow furrowed as he studied her. “Not really. I moved into Stanley a few months ago.”
Stanley was at least fifty miles away. Devon hadn’t seen any sign of a car, snowmobile, or any other means of transportation for that matter when she’d found him on the side of the road. She dropped her arm and let the gun hang at her side. “Is that where you were headed when you crashed?”
Liam studied her for a quiet moment. He took a deep breath that expanded his wide chest and Devon stared, rapt, at the play of muscles from the simple act. “I wasn’t in a wreck. I know that much.”
His expression was guileless. “Then how did you get here?”
A corner of Liam’s mouth quirked in a half smile. “I don’t suppose you could tell me where here is?”
Maybe he’d suffered a concussion. It would definitely account for his confusion. “Lowman,” Devon said. “I found you last night in a field off Highway 21, bleeding and naked in the middle of a blizzard.”
His expression turned contemplative. His fist tightened on the length of sheet wrapped around his waist showcasing the tendons in his arm. “Was I alone?” His brows came down sharply over his dark eyes and his jaw squared. “Did you see anyone else?”
Fear trickled into Devon’s bloodstream. She’d never forgive herself if she’d inadvertently left someone out in that blizzard to die. “I-I didn’t,” she stammered. “It was dark and snowing really hard. I had a flashlight and I looked around as best I could. As far as I could tell you were alone.”
Liam let out an audible sigh. The tension in his shoulders relaxed a small degree and he cupped the back of his neck as though to massage a knot away. “Lowman,” he repeated. “How many miles from Stanley are we?”
He wasn’t kidding when he said he was a recent transplant. “A good hour away,” Devon replied. “And that’s when the roads are bare. Honestly, with the storm as bad as it is I’m surprised they haven’t shut the highway down.” It wasn’t uncommon for the stretch of Highway 21 between Lowman and Stanley to be closed in the winter. Avalanches were common and with a warm front moving in, it could get bad really fast. Hell, the road department might’ve already shut the highway down, which meant she was stuck with Liam, at least for the time being.
“I need a phone,” Liam said.
“Don’t have one.”
He cocked a brow. “You don’t have a phone? How is that even possible?”
An indignant fire kindled in Devon’s gut. “What’s
that supposed to mean?” He must’ve been a transplant from L.A. or some shit. Only a guy from the city would feel entitled to technology. “Lots of people don’t have phones.”
“You don’t own a cell?”
“I do, but there’s no service here. We’re sort of in a black hole.”
Liam let out a frustrated breath. “No landline?”
“There was no phone when I moved in.” Good Lord, why did she even feel the need to justify herself to him? “And I don’t really have much need for one.” Liam muttered something under his breath that Devon was pretty sure she didn’t want him to repeat. At least, not if she wanted to keep her temper in check. “There’s a phone at the bar. As soon as the road’s plowed we can drive up there and you can use it.” The sooner the better. Though she had no idea how she was going to explain Mr. Toga Party to some of her regulars.
“Thanks.” Liam’s gaze softened, and Devon swore for the barest moment the color of his eyes lightened from a deep chocolate brown to gold. “And thanks for not pointing the gun at me anymore.”
Devon looked down at the Beretta still clutched in her fist. She let out a measured breath that did a little to release the tension still pulling her own muscles taut. She might not have been afraid of Liam, but there was something about him that unsettled her. Not in a bad way, just … different. She set the gun back in the drawer and pushed it closed. It took actual effort to turn her back to him but she forced herself to do it anyway. “You want some coffee?”
“Hell yes,” Liam said.
A smile curved Devon’s lips but she quickly tucked her amusement away. “Well I’m not delivering it to you up there, so you’d better come down and get it yourself.”
Liam chuckled and the sound vibrated over her skin. “Yes, ma’am.”
“And tighten that sheet.” She forced her own tone to remain stern. “I’ve got nosy neighbors.”
“Oh yeah? Are you sure you don’t want to give them something to talk about?”
“God, no!” Heat rose to Devon’s cheeks at his flirtatious tone. It was bad enough she was about to take a half-naked man up to the bar. “Just sit down and try to be inconspicuous.”
“I can do that. But I’ve gotta say, this place looks pretty nosy-neighbor-proof.”
The stairs creaked under Liam’s footsteps. Devon’s heart inched its way up into her throat and she fought to remain calm despite the fact she felt like prey. This had to be up in the top ten of the worst decisions she’d ever made. She just hoped that being a Good Samaritan wouldn’t end up biting her in the ass.
* * *
It was pretty tough to look like a badass while trying not to trip over a sheet but Liam gave it his best shot. He hit the bottom stair and strode past the tiny potbellied stove into the kitchen and dining area. Devon’s posture stiffened as though she sensed him behind her. The tang of her fear soured the air and Liam cleared a breath through his nostrils in order to banish the offending scent. He didn’t want her to be afraid of him, but he’d be damned if he knew what he did want. His wolf seemed more than ready to answer that question for him, but Liam wasn’t ready to listen. Not when there were still so many unanswered questions.
“Until you mentioned neighbors, I was working under the assumption that we were living in a cave,” Liam said with a chuckle. “You have something against sunlight? Are you some sort of vampire?” Had Devon actually been a vampire, she would’ve identified Liam by his scent and she more than likely would’ve left him to die out in the storm. Lucky for him she was merely human. Or maybe not so lucky, since his wolf was drawn to her like he was starving and she was a big juicy steak.
Devon gave a nervous laugh as she reached for the coffeepot. She poured two cups and turned toward the two-seater dining table. “I don’t have anything against sunlight.” Her lips drew into a petulant pucker that damn near made Liam’s mouth water. “Keeping the curtains closed retains heat.”
Liam considered Stanley a rustic community. Apparently, it had nothing on Lowman. He took a quick look around. No vents meant no forced-air heating. The little stove in the center of the cabin was her only means of heat. Devon set the two cups of coffee down on the table and went to the fridge. She grabbed a tiny container of cream and reached for the sugar on the counter beside her before setting them both down on the table.
“Gotcha. Heat retention—good.” Devon handed him a spoon and he added some sugar to his cup and a splash of cream before mixing it all together. She added a little sugar and cream to her own cup before cradling it in her hands and taking several steps back. Rather than sit down at the table with him, she leaned against the counter near the kitchen sink, her gaze trained warily on him.
“You still didn’t tell me how you wound up in that field.”
“Believe me, if I knew I’d tell you.”
“Where’s your car?”
Her scent soured once again, but Liam didn’t need his keen senses to know she was suspicious of him. He didn’t blame her. His circumstances were sketchy as fuck. Really, what in the gods’ names had possessed her to save him in the first place? His wolf gave an agitated growl in the recess of his psyche, obviously displeased that she hadn’t been more cautious. He could’ve been anyone, and Liam knew from experience that there were things in the world more dangerous than a werewolf.
“Would you hold it against me if I told you I’m not sure?” It wasn’t a lie. Any member of the pack could have his pickup right now, out looking for him.
Devon’s eyes narrowed. “Would you hold it against me if I call bullshit on that?”
Liam chuckled. He liked her sass. “Not at all. In fact, I’d be worried if you were so eager to trust a perfect stranger.”
“Trusting, I’m not. But you were in trouble and I was raised not to turn my back on someone who needs help.”
Liam gave her a gentle smile before he sipped from the lip of his mug. The smooth taste of coffee rolled over his tongue, just sweet enough with the right hint of cream and not even a little bitter. Delicious. He was certainly thankful Devon had pulled him out of that storm, but not for the reason she thought. The blizzard wouldn’t have killed him. Exposure wouldn’t have killed him. But something had laid the smack down on him and whatever it was, it had packed a punch. “For what it’s worth, I appreciate it.”
“I just did what was right,” Devon replied before sipping from her own mug.
Liam needed answers, the memories his wolf kept from him, to help shed some light on his current situation. But he needed to be careful of what he asked and how he asked it. The supernatural world kept their secrets well and he wasn’t about to be the one to spill the beans. At least, not until he knew he could trust her as well. “You didn’t see any animal tracks where you found me?”
“Nothing.” Devon’s gaze met his. The color of her eyes fascinated him. A mosaic of green, brown, and blue. Turbulent like the sea. “Then again, it was snowing so hard any tracks in the area would’ve been covered up within minutes.”
True. Liam cradled the warm mug in his palms and stared into the creamy coffee as though he’d find last night’s memories in its depths. “How long till the roads are plowed?”
“It’s hard to say.” Devon traced the lip of her mug with her forefinger. Liam found himself drawn to the simple act and he shivered thinking about what it would be like to have her touch him in the same way. “The road department is pretty good about getting the snow cleared. I’ll run up to the highway and check in a few minutes.”
“Couldn’t I use one of your neighbors’ phones?” Liam didn’t want to wait on a snowplow. He needed answers now.
Devon gave him an incredulous look. “Trying to keep a low profile here, remember?”
Liam grinned. “It’s the sheet, isn’t it?”
Devon let out a snort. “Buddy, the sheet’s only half of it.”
Being patient wasn’t one of Liam’s strong suits. He wasn’t interested in fueling the fire of Devon’s suspicions, however. He had no choice bu
t to play it cool. That didn’t mean he had to like it.
“So, Lowman. Must be pretty small if you can identify a local on sight.”
Devon flashed a wide smile. It was the first truly genuine expression he’d seen from her and it was blinding in its brilliance. “I’m being generous in saying that there might be seventy-five full-time residents. Maybe another fifty or so that are part-timers and seasonal.”
“What do people do for work?” Liam knew he had it easy. One of the benefits of being long lived was the ability to amass a fortune over centuries. He could live practically anywhere without having to worry about how he was going to pay for his next meal.
“A lot of the locals are retired,” Devon said. “One of my neighbors is a long-haul trucker, and another is a teacher in Garden Valley, which is only about twenty minutes away. I know a guy who’s a hunting guide and there’s a couple that owns a rafting company.”
“And you?” Liam asked.
Devon’s eyes sparked with mischief. “I own the only bar in town.”
Liam couldn’t think of much else to do in the winter but drink in a town the size of Lowman. “Sounds like a sweet gig.”
Devon gave him a sad smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Finish your coffee,” she said. She went to the door and grabbed her coat from the hook before sliding it on. “I’m going to run up to the highway and see if the road’s been plowed.”
Looked like Liam wasn’t the only one with secrets. And he was determined to learn Devon’s.
Chapter Three
Devon had to get the hell out of there. And how messed up was it that she’d been driven out of her own house? It wasn’t that Liam made her uncomfortable; in fact it was the complete opposite. She felt too at ease with him, as though it would be no big deal to sit and cozy up with him by the fire. She wasn’t even that comfortable around people she’d known for years.
Only a complete basket case wouldn’t see something wrong with that.
In the time it would take to warm up the Jeep and thaw out the windows, Devon could walk to the highway and back so that’s what she did. The lane that led from her tiny subdivision to the highway wasn’t more than two hundred yards. Besides, she needed the cold air to clear her head.