Anders chuckled. “I’ll think about it.”
“Got here just in time.” Hollis was at his door.
Dante stayed where he was. “Snow’s coming in.”
He glanced at the white sky. “Estimates on how much?” he asked, sniffing the air. He didn’t want them trapped here. But a few feet of ice and snow would slow down anyone who might be looking for them—and cover their scent and tracks.
Dante shrugged.
Finn climbed out of the truck, unbuckling the car seat and pulling it with him. He saw the question on Jessa’s face and nodded slightly. No, he didn’t normally carry Oscar. But now, he needed his son close to meet his family.
Hollis smiled. “He’s growing.”
“Looks small to me,” Dante argued.
“Babies generally are,” Jessa said.
Dante’s eyes narrowed, his gaze sweeping over Jessa from head to toe. Finn’s wolf went on alert.
She shivered, her gaze seeking his. “It’s cold.”
“No wonder. Where’s your coat?” Anders asked.
Which reminded Finn what she was wearing—and her lack of bra. “Here.” He shrugged out of his flannel shirt and draped it over her shoulders. It helped, but not enough. “Inside,” he snapped, anxious to find her something to wrap up in. He stayed close by her side as they made their way into the massive wood cabin he considered his real home.
Jessa was rubbing her hands together by the time they were inside.
He tried not to stare at the hard, tight evidence of just how cold she was. And his wolf was pissed as hell that the others were seeing it, too. “Fire’s this way,” he said, nodding into the great room.
“I should probably clean up Oscar first,” she said. “And get his bottle ready.”
The other three seemed to be circling, equally curious about Oscar and Jessa, and the energy had his alpha on high alert. He’d get Jessa and Oscar settled then deal with the other three.
“My room’s this way,” he said, carrying Oscar with him.
He could breathe easier once he’d closed the bedroom door behind them.
“Is everything okay?” she asked, her soothing touch a whisper across his forearm.
He looked at her, covering her hand with his. “Why?”
“You’re tense. I thought being here would be better.” Her green eyes searched his.
He loved the way her hand tightened on his, like holding on to him made her calmer, too. He shook his head. “It’s been a long time since we’ve all been together.” Well, almost all. Mal wasn’t here. “Takes some time for us to adjust. The wolves need to settle down.” He set the car seat on the bed.
“Go. Get adjusted.” She smiled. “I’m pretty sure Oscar would like some wriggle time out of that seat.”
“I’ll go.” He paused. “But I’d feel better if you stayed in here with me.” He saw the way she looked around the room. “I can sleep on the floor.”
She glanced at him, her cheeks coloring. “Do you want to sleep on the floor?”
He swallowed. “No.”
“You don’t have to sleep on the floor,” she whispered, shivering slightly, her gaze locking with his.
Sleeping with her the night before had been equal parts heaven and hell. And tonight he’d endure it again if it put her back in his arms. “Cold?” He took her hands in his. Soft and ice-cold.
She shrugged.
He grinned. “Give me a sec.” He dug through his clothes, pulling out some flannel pajamas, thermal underwear, and an old sweatshirt. “They’ll be big, but warm.” He liked the idea of her wearing his clothes.
She took the clothing. “Warm is good.”
He nodded, making his way to the bedroom door. “You have what you need for Oscar?”
She nodded.
“I’ll be back.” He paused. “Stay here.”
She frowned, then nodded, and he closed the door behind him.
They were waiting for him in the great room.
“She’s the nanny?” Dante asked, clearly not buying it.
“She’s his mate,” Hollis interrupted.
His wolf agreed. But Finn wasn’t ready to admit defeat. Jessa deserved better.
“She’s hot.” Anders grinned, flopping into one of the large leather armchairs and propping his booted feet on the coffee table. “Damn hot. My wolf likes her. A lot.”
Finn shook his head, ignoring his wolf’s irritation.
“Oscar’s so damn little.” Dante’s concern was surprising. “The change could break him into a million pieces.”
Finn didn’t argue. Fear had a vise grip on his heart, shredding his insides to bits. He’d never dreaded a moon so much in his life.
“If we can do it, he should be able to,” Hollis interrupted again. “Oscar is part of us.”
“Poor kid,” Anders joked.
“Not really. He was born this way. He has a distinct advantage over us.” Hollis smiled. “Speaking of disadvantages. When Jessa and Finn bond, she’ll have almost as much sway over you as he does. Alpha. His mate.”
“Great,” Dante said.
“She’s not going to be my mate,” Finn snapped.
All three of them looked at him.
“You can’t fight instinct, man.” Anders shook his head. “If we can feel what’s going on with you two this strong, I can only imagine what you’re fighting.”
Finn ignored the comment.
“So we’re all supposed to pretend she’s not one of us? She’s up for grabs?” Dante asked. “Meaning she’s fair game? Like Anders said, she’s hot.”
Finn glared at him, hands fisted, jaw clenched.
Dante and Anders exchanged a look, laughing.
“And Oscar?” Hollis asked. “He’s bonded with her. He clearly looks to her as mother.”
Finn nodded.
“She’ll need protection,” Dante sighed. “She needs to know what’s coming.”
“She has an idea,” Finn said, sitting.
“What’s the plan?” Anders asked.
“Keep them safe. Rest a few days, before the change. I…I need to stay with them,” Finn said, staring into the fire. His wolf would do whatever was necessary to protect him, he knew that. There had been no sign of the Others, but he had to stay close, he knew that. “Can you run the perimeter?”
Anders and Dante nodded.
“The pack will help,” Hollis offered.
Ever since they were infected, Hollis read everything he could find on wolf habits, packs, and hunting, as well as werewolf lore. So far, their pack shared more of the true wolf’s sensibilities that those of the Hollywood werewolf. Something Finn was thankful for. The only distinguishing difference between his pack and the native timber wolves that populated the refuge was size and strength. His pack was bigger, with longer snouts, pointier ears, larger teeth and claws, and brutal strength. What he was capable of in wolf form was hard to accept. Out of fear or respect, the native wolves welcomed them into the pack when the moon ruled.
“I’m counting on that,” Finn nodded.
“As a point of safety…” Hollis’s tone drew Finn’s attention. “You need to be focused, Finn. You’re the alpha. If you’re distracted, we’re distracted.”
“So, do the deed. Make her one of us.” Anders grinned.
Finn rose, pacing before the fire. “I wouldn’t have wished this on any of you. You expect me to ask her to be part of this clusterfuck?”
“Seems to me she already is,” Dante said. “If you didn’t want her involved, why the hell did you bring her here?”
“To protect her,” Finn snapped.
“Back up.” Dante sighed. “Why hire her in the first place?”
“I needed a nanny. She has life-experience—”
“No, at the company. Before Oscar,” Dante pushed.
“I didn’t. I don’t hire every employee at Dean Industries. Believe me, I wouldn’t have.” But it was a lie, and he knew it. Her scent was all it had taken. If she’d come in for an intervi
ew with him, he would have known then. She was important, someone he needed to keep close—but not too close. Now he couldn’t keep his distance. When she was near, he wanted to touch her, to hold her, to reassure himself that she was there, safe, at his side. His wolf and his heart had already claimed her.
“Right.” Dante stood. “I’m going to bed.”
But after they’d turned in, Finn sat drinking a scotch and staring into the roaring flames of the fire. His wolf put Jessa’s safety in jeopardy. He ran a hand over his face, trying not to remember the feel of her body beneath his hands. He closed his eyes, drawing in the echo of her scent, the sigh she made in her sleep. Until he got a firm rein on his hunger, he’d stay where he was—away from her.
He played a game of pool against himself, threw darts for the better part of an hour, and stared out the window at the falling snow until his eyelids grew heavy. Only then did he knock back the last of his scotch and head to his bedroom.
Oscar was sound asleep in a portable crib. And Jessa slept in the rocker, twisted awkwardly, her long hair spilling over the chair arm to the floor. He hesitated, knowing he should leave her—not touch her—but unable to stop himself. When he lifted her in his arms, she turned into him, her breath warming the cotton of his white undershirt and making his medallion hot. It didn’t matter. The damn thing could burn a circle on his chest and he’d still be yearning for the feel of her curves pressed against him. He lay her on the bed, staring down at her. His wolf was pacing, hoping, and craving. So Finn headed for a long cold shower and ignored the wolf’s temper.
Chapter Nine
He felt Jessa wake on the bed next to him, her body stiffening at the sound of howling. Lots and lots of howling. There was no break—when one ended, another began. The sound filled the room, offering him security, and her fear.
“Easy.” He spoke softly against her ear. “They’re just getting ready for tomorrow.”
She drew in a wavering breath, her body trembling. There’d been no howling the last three nights, and she’d slept easy in his arms while he’d lain awake, wanting her. She’d managed to make herself at home, even with the uneasiness amongst his pack. They all knew she was his mate and were tired of his foul mood and short temper as he refused to admit the same. The pack laughed it off, but Jessa was hurt by his indifference.
Until they went to bed. It was hard to stay indifferent when she was in his arms.
Sleeping with her made everything better—and so much worse. While she’d had sweet dreams, his wolf demanded what he couldn’t take. Her reaction now, shivering from the howl of the wolves, proved his point. But she had every right to be afraid. After what she’d seen, what she’d learned, the world was no longer a safe place.
She pressed closer to him, stirring all the hunger he’d spent hours bottling up. He pressed his eyes shut, knowing what he should do.
Leave the room.
Put distance between them.
Reassure her she was safe—with words, not touch.
Instead, he rolled behind her, spooning against her back and draping an arm around her waist. The contact made his wolf sit up and take notice, but the chain around his neck grew hot—reminding him to be careful. “It’s what wolves do,” he said.
“Do you understand them?” she whispered, rigid in his hold.
“Sort of,” his voice was gruff. “Their intent.”
She shivered against him, still uneasy.
“It’s okay, Jessa. You’re safe.” But was she? His hand pressed against her stomach, offering—and taking—comfort in the contact. His palm warmed, the energy between them alive. She relaxed, making it that much easier to mold himself around her. The slight increase of her pulse made him pause. He swallowed. When he spoke, his words were a whisper. “Touching you comforts me.”
“Yes,” she murmured, the feel of her hand on his arm instantly pulling him in. The need to claim her was overwhelming. All it took was that touch, light and soft…almost timid. What would it feel like to have her touch him with confidence? Ownership? He wanted that, so much. A strange noise, part growl, tore from his throat.
She lifted her hand. “I’m sorry.”
He rolled onto his back, grasping for control. He was the one that should be sorry, not her. “Don’t be,” he ground out.
Her words were low, harsh and ragged. “I feel like your wolf. Like you’re fighting…me. Something you don’t want, but can’t let go of.” She slid to the edge of the bed.
She was right—he couldn’t let go of her. He lay there, reining in the need to show her what she did to him. He gripped the silver medallion. How could she understand what she was to him? If he gave in, she’d never be free. Protecting her from himself was the right thing to do.
His wolf wanted her to know, to understand. To feel what she did to them and who she was.
Protecting her meant keeping her warm, not letting her shiver on the side of the damn bed. He slid to the bedside, sitting as close as possible without touching her. The words rose in his chest, the wolf demanded he speak. “Jessa—” He broke off, his lungs emptying. He looked at her. “You know what I’m capable of. What do you want from me?”
Her green eyes shone, raw with hunger—hunger his wolf wholeheartedly approved of. She didn’t understand. She needed to understand.
“Do you remember what I said in the truck?” he asked.
She blinked, her lips parting.
“A wolf has one mate. One.” And his wolf was waiting, ready. He swallowed, standing to pace before the fire. Say it. You’re mine. The wolf would rather he showed her. But throwing her down on the bed and giving her what she thought she wanted didn’t seem like the best idea.
“And…and sex isn’t the same thing. I know.” She kept talking, her voice wavering—uncertain. “But I don’t understand what’s happening between us,” she added, her words thick and strained. “I’ve never been so…drawn to a person. If this isn’t what you want, why is it…this way between us?”
He stared at her, the roar of blood in his veins and the drum of his heart making it hard to focus. Drawn to him? Isn’t that what he wanted?
“You act like there’s nothing between us, but there is. We’re connected.” Her cheeks flushed. “You want me close, so close I can feel you want me, but I can’t have you.” She stared at him. “What about what I want?”
She wanted him. But she didn’t understand what that meant. What if she wanted to leave him? What the hell would he do then? She was his mate. If the bond was sealed, he couldn’t let her go.
“Or is it the wolf that wants me, but not you?” She shook her head. “I don’t understand any of this.” She was angry. “Tell me. Explain it so I can understand.” He heard her uncertainty—her frustration.
Like him.
And his control was slipping. The wolf was winning. For once, Finn wanted him to win. He wanted to claim her. “A connection?” he repeated, crossing the room in two long steps. He gripped the blanket wrapped around her and tugged her to her feet. “I wish it were that simple.”
Her eyes widened as she whispered, “Finn—”
His voice was gruff and hard. “This isn’t about sex, Jessa.” His tilted her chin up, forcing her to look him in the eye. He hadn’t meant to sound harsh, but dammit, he couldn’t stand hearing the doubt in her voice. He never wanted to hear it again. She stared at him, stunned. “This is about you, choosing me. No going back. No leaving. My mate. You are mine. Always.”
“You—”
“I won’t tie you to me. To this life. I can’t,” he continued. “So, yes. I fight.”
“Stop fighting,” she whispered.
He froze, his mind reeling, his fingers twisting in the blanket he’d pinned her in. She didn’t mean it. She couldn’t. He shook his head, denying the urge to pull her against him, to bind her to him. The wolf circled, howling in frustration, forcing Finn to hear her—to accept it.
She stepped closer, her hand covering the medallion that rested on his bare ches
t. “I choose you.” She shivered, her eyes locking with his.
“Do you understand what you’re saying, Jessa?”
Her fingers traced along his jaw. “You’re mine. And I am yours.”
He clasped the back of her head, fighting the wolf’s hunger even as he held her close. He ran his nose along her hairline, a strange thrum of heat and a prick of pain tightening his chest, stealing the air from his lungs. “Always, Jessa. The wolf—I—won’t let you go. I can’t.”
Her green eyes burned. “Never let me go,” her voice hitched.
He gave up, and the wolf took over. If this was what she wanted, he couldn’t fight her. She’d given herself to him, and the need to possess her was undeniable.
The last threads of rational thought and restraint slipped away. His hold tightened, hard and desperate, cradling her head, pulling her against him as his lips captured hers. She shuddered, her fingers gripping his shoulders as his tongue delved between her lips. The heat of her mouth, the broken gasp of breath, the tentative stroke of her tongue against his, had him lowering her to the bed beneath him.
There would be time to love her, to explore every inch of her. But right now, the wolf needed to seal their bond. Finn needed it.
He pushed his boxers off and kicked them aside, his hands already slipping under her flannel nightshirt to pull the fabric up and over her head. She helped, tugging the sleeves free and tossing it over his shoulder. He stared down, enthralled by every curve. Her skin was smooth, the small birthmark under her right breast the only mark on her. She was breathing heavily, watching him—waiting. And the instinct to fill her erased all else.
His hands clasped her hips, sliding her to the edge of the bed. “I’m not sure I can keep control. I want you so bad.”
She nodded, the erratic rhythm of her breathing inflaming him further. “Lose control. Love me now.”
He stood, so hard he hurt, staring down at her. She was beautiful, soft and eager. Her hands gripped his forearms, her green eyes fixed on his face, waiting. He ignored the painful singe of the silver against his neck and chest, and lifted her hips. No one had ever looked at him like this, had accepted him as he was. He held her gaze. Even as he traced his thumb across her taut nub, as she arched up and against him, as the pulsing tip of his erection slid just inside the tight heat of her body, his gaze remained locked with hers.
Falling for the Billionaire Wolf and His Baby Page 10