She swatted him away. “Don’t. You just got stitches.” Her shaking increased in force.
Wolfe partially turned his head. “I need a blanket,” he bellowed. Then he lowered his chin and reached for her again, this time ignoring her slaps and plucking her off her feet. “You’re going into shock.”
She snuggled her face into his neck, breathing in his masculine scent. “I am not.”
The door opened. “What’s happening?” Malcolm asked, handing over what looked like a horse blanket.
“Need a minute,” Wolfe said.
“Sure.” Malcolm disappeared.
Wolfe swung around and strode toward the tile wall by the door, away from the stalls and sinks. He slid down to the floor, cradling her against his heated bare skin and covering her with the blanket that was rough but smelled fresh. “I want you to take deep breaths. In and out. Where are you?”
“In the bathroom,” she said, taking in a deep breath.
“Where else are you?” Amusement tinged his voice this time.
Oh. “With you. Next to you.” Surrounded by him, actually. “You’re here and you’re safe.” She let his warmth seep through her skin and stop the shaking.
“That’s right. I’ve got you. Understand?” He kissed her forehead, and he was solid and strong and powerful, even wounded.
She nodded. “I love you.” He stiffened beneath her, and she winced, lifting her head to look in his eyes. “I know we’re in the bathroom at a vet hospital, and we’re all dirty and banged up, and this is the wrong place to say that. However, who knows what’s going to happen next, so I wanted to say it right now.”
His eyes warmed to that bourbon color she loved more than anything. “This is the perfect place. I love you, too.”
She blushed. “You don’t have to say it just because I did.”
He nipped the top of her nose. “I’m saying it because I mean it. I’ve loved you since you attacked me with that umbrella in the woods at Hunter’s house, but I didn’t think I’d be around for long.”
“I’ve loved you since that moment, too. Even though you owe me an umbrella.” She wanted to find levity in the moment, but Roscoe’s fate hung over them. “I mean, it’s deeper now, but I’ve always felt something for you, even when you’re driving me crazy.”
“I think your crazy balances mine.” He set his forehead against hers.
The door opened, and Raider stood there. “The nurse said the veterinarian wants to talk to everyone in a minute.”
Dana’s eyes filled. “The wound was bad, and he bled for so long.” She didn’t protest when Wolfe stood, still holding her, and carried her into the waiting room where everyone seemed to be holding their breath. Angus had grown still by the desk, his face pale, his eyes inscrutable.
Wolfe settled back onto the same bench, and when she tried to move off him, his hold tightened. She relaxed against his hard chest again.
The wait was excruciating. Finally, a female veterinarian in green scrubs walked into the room, her eyes weary. “Roscoe’s family?”
“Yes,” Nari said, standing and moving to Angus’s side as if she could catch him should he fall. She set her hand on his arm.
The vet smiled. “It was a rough surgery to remove the bullet, but he’s a tough one, and he hung in there pretty long. He’s an impressive animal. He’s going to need rest for a while, but I think he’s going to be fine.”
The relief made Dana dizzy. “He was so brave trying to defend me. You’d be proud, Angus.”
“Can I see him?” Angus asked.
The vet looked around the room. “Just you. You can see him tonight, and everyone else can see him tomorrow. He needs rest, and I suggest you all do the same.” Motioning, she led Angus behind the reception desk.
Wolfe stood with Dana. “Mal? We need a place to stay tonight.”
“No problem,” Mal said, standing and holding Pippa’s hand. “We can deactivate the explosives at your place tomorrow.”
Dana slipped her arm over Wolfe’s shoulder and kissed a bruise on his jaw. She needed to tell him about the baby. “We have to talk,” she whispered.
“We will.” He kissed her, somehow walking out of the waiting room and into the heated night as he did so.
She sank into his kiss, feeling she was finally home. But what would he think about her being pregnant? He’d seemed open to the possibility of dating before, but his response had been more about protection than love.
This was different. This was everything.
* * *
Wolfe hurt from his big toe to the top of his head, but he’d never been happier. After a long, hot shower with Dana, who’d been uncharacteristically quiet, he slid into the large bed in Mal’s guest room, and tugged her in with him. Was she still in shock? Or maybe she was regretting their conversation in the restroom, chalking it up to emotion. “What’s going on, Dana?”
She turned toward him on the bed, looking adorable in a cami and short set she’d borrowed from Pippa. Her gaze stayed on his chest, and her breath emerged shallow.
“You’re going to have a panic attack. Breathe deep.” With one knuckle, he lifted her chin so he could look into her spectacular eyes. “Talk now. What’s up?” He’d spend the rest of his life assuring her every day that he loved her, but he needed to know the problem so he could fix it.
She took a deep breath and pushed her blond hair over one shoulder. The scent of orange blossoms wafted toward him. “Okay. Here it is. I’m pregnant.” A light pink suffused her face, and she plucked nervously at the bedspread.
He frowned. “It’s only been a little over a week since we, ah, had unprotected sex.”
She shifted her weight. “Dr. Georgetown did a blood test, and sometimes early results can be conclusive. The pregnancy hormone is in my blood.”
He couldn’t breathe. His chest expanded and filled, with light and excitement this time. “You’re sure?” His voice shook.
She nodded. “Yeah. What do you think?”
His smile made his bruises ache, but he didn’t care. “I think it’s the best news in the entire world.” Grabbing her hand, he started to inch off the bed.
She tugged back. “What are you doing?”
“We’re going to get married.” He’d have to borrow clothes from Malcolm, but they were close to the same size, so that was okay.
She laughed and clutched his wrist, trying to pull him back. “What are you talking about?”
He could just carry her. “I know it’s fast, but let’s go do it.”
She sighed. “For the survivor benefits?”
“Of course.” Now they were on the same page. Why wasn’t she smiling? He ran through the last few minutes in his mind and then sat. “Oh.” Sometimes he was a blockhead. He slipped from the bed onto both knees, almost hiding a grimace at the pain. “Dana? I love you more than life. Will you marry me?”
Her lips twitched. “You mean it?”
“Yes.”
“Yes.” Her eyes lit up.
His heart pretty much burst. He stood and picked her up off the bed.
She shook her head. “Not right now, Wolfe.”
He paused. They probably did need to wait until morning. “Oh. Okay.” He set her back into bed and then followed. “We can sleep late and then go.”
Her laughter was a balm to every ache he had. “Listen, Wolfe. This is way too soon. We are going to take our time, get to know each other more, and then make plans.”
He rolled to his side, facing her. “I’m gonna marry you.”
She smiled and caressed his jaw. “I know.”
“You said you are gonna marry me.” The feeling of her soft hand on him was distracting, but he needed to get this out.
“Yeah.” She leaned in and kissed him.
“Why wait?” He wanted her and the babe to be his now, not sometime in the future.
She chuckled, scooting closer to him. “You make a good point, but I want the whole shebang. Wedding, dress, flowers, cake . . . you name
it.”
Oh yeah. Her family. “I guess I should talk to your dad, huh?”
Her chest hitched as she laughed again. “That’s awfully old-fashioned, don’t you think?”
“Yeah.” He ran his palm along her flank to her hip. “I’ll talk to him next weekend if I can get away. He said he wanted to take me fishing.” He should probably buy her a ring, too. Maybe one of her sisters would help him get the right one. Her family was going to be his, too. He could handle that.
Between his team and now his new family, Clarence Wolfe had never been happier. “Thank you,” he whispered.
Her eyes widened. “For what?”
“For everything.” Because that’s what she was—his everything.
Epilogue
Two weeks later
Dana munched contentedly on one of Pippa’s special butternut cookies and then slipped a small piece to a rapidly healing Roscoe, who lay at a healing Jethro’s feet in the middle hub at the office. Both males allowed everyone to shower them with attention, sweets, and admiration. The bandage had been taken off Roscoe’s stomach, but Jethro’s leg was in a full cast, resting on a pillow on Mal’s desk.
Mal sat in his chair with Pippa planted happily on his lap.
Wolfe prowled in from the second case room, holding boxes of outdated materials from cases they’d put to bed; Angus Force was right behind him, his eyes more bloodshot than usual. The leader had been on a mission for two weeks, and he seemed more on edge than ever.
Wolfe cut him a look. “You going to tell us what’s going on?”
Force shook his head. “Not yet. There isn’t anything to tell.” Even his voice sounded exhausted.
“I thought we were going to paint the floor or something today,” Brigid said, emerging from her computer room with Raider on her heels and Kat in her hands.
Nari leaned against her doorjamb, eating a cookie. “I thought that was the plan, too. We really need to brighten this place up.” She looked around the dingy office. “We have some juice since we took down Rockcliff and Theresa Rhodes.”
Theresa had been taken into custody shortly after Rock had died, and rumor had it she’d lawyered up quickly.
Wolfe set the boxes down and frowned, looking sexy and strong. “Dana? You can’t be here if there are paint fumes. I hadn’t realized that was the plan.”
Pippa leaned to the side. “You’re allergic to paint?”
“No, she’s pregnant,” Wolfe said.
Silence descended a second before pandemonium hit. There was a rush toward her, and then a lot of hugs, including a very gentle one from Angus Force. The sheer joy and congratulations of the team filled Dana, and she had to bat back tears.
Wolfe was still frowning. “Hadn’t we told you guys that?”
Man, he was clueless sometimes.
“No.” Angus gave him some sort of man hug, his expression lightening for a brief moment.
“Huh.” Wolfe’s eyes softened as he looked at her, making her feel powerful and so happy she almost ached. “We’re getting married, too. She’s got a lot of sisters and friends, so I’m probably going to need groomsmen. We’ll figure it out later. I guess you guys would all look okay in a tux.”
Okay? It’d be the best-looking groom’s side ever.
“We’re not painting today,” Angus said, shoving a box over by the ones Wolfe had set down. “Nari is right that we have some juice now, so I called in a couple of favors.”
The elevator protested, screeched, and then descended, opening to reveal Agent Millicent Frost, her hair streaked with blue, boxes in her hands.
Dana cocked her head to the side. “What’s happening?”
Angus moved to help Millie with the boxes. “I’ve hired both you and Agent Frost as part of the Deep Ops team.”
Dana’s mouth opened and then closed. “I don’t recall applying for a job.” She liked being a journalist, but the idea of being a government agent, with all of those resources at her fingertips, was definitely appealing.
Wolfe nodded. “Agreed. She’s pregnant.”
“So what?” Dana asked, turning toward him. “Pregnant women work. I’ll take the job, Angus.”
“That was easy,” Angus mumbled, his dimple flashing.
“She’ll be on desk duty like Brigid, Wolfe. We need their skills, without question.”
Dana grinned. She’d give this a shot. If she wasn’t happy, she’d go back to freelancing. It was nice to have options. While her big wolf figured out whether this was a good development or not, she walked to him and slid an arm around his waist, leaning into his strength.
He sighed, stirring her hair.
“Millie?” Raider asked. “You want to, ah, work here?”
Dana bit back a laugh. The office was depressing, that was for sure.
Millie nodded, her face a little pale. “I do, and a lot of cool gadgets come with me. I’m a trained agent, and I can also go undercover if necessary.”
Dana was missing something, but now wasn’t the time to ask. Was Millie okay?
Nari looked around the room. “We can get another desk.”
“No need,” Angus said. “There’s actually another storage area beyond the two interrogation rooms—all we have to do is clear it out. It’s a good space for gadgets and the like, and Millie says it’s fine for her.”
So they were all there on a Saturday to clean out the storeroom. Made sense. Dana turned toward the hallway by the elevators, halting when Wolfe didn’t allow her to move. She looked up at his rugged face. “Wolfe?”
“An old storage room is too dusty for you,” he said, leaning down to press a kiss to her nose. “Plus, who knows what else we’ll find there.”
She sighed, going up on tiptoe to kiss him full on his firm mouth. “You’re going to drive me crazy for the next eight months, aren’t you?” It was nice to be protected, but he was a mite overbearing.
“No.” He kissed her back, humming with enjoyment and then releasing her mouth.
She blinked, trying to remember what they’d been talking about, her body warm. “No?”
“Not for eight months. For forever.” He grinned, looking happier than she’d ever seen him. “I’ve always indulged myself with sweets, Dana. You’re the sweetest thing in my life, in any life, and I’m keeping you. I love you. Always.”
“Always,” she said, meaning it, her heart full.
For him.
Don’t miss Rebecca Zanetti’s Dark Protectors series!
Read on for an excerpt from
GUARDIAN’S GRACE
The vampire was late.
Grace Cooper twirled the straw in her half-finished ginger whiskey and tried to ignore the skunk smell wafting through the bar. Rather, the smell of pot, which two kids were smoking in the back corner by the lone pool table, seemingly uncaring that recreational use of marijuana was illegal in bars in Colorado. None of the few folks ambitiously drinking in the place paid them any heed.
Darkness had descended outside along with a blistering snowstorm, and the wind howled against the few windows in an effort to sneak inside. Mother Nature had decided on a brutal end to January, which might explain why so few patrons had ventured through the storm for cheap booze and a stereo system from the early nineties that only played Bon Jovi songs. “Runaway” was currently blasting at a slightly slower speed than she remembered.
Why in the world had the vamp wanted to meet in this dump?
The bartender, a sixty-something man wearing a ripped T-shirt, snow pants, and thick boots, tipped back a couple of shots of tequila as he wiped down the bar, ignoring everyone unless they approached him for more alcohol.
This was the closest she would come to Denver, where she’d lived before going into a coma and then becoming an immortal mate. Well, kind of becoming one. She’d promised everyone, especially her sister, that she’d never return to Denver. But persistent questions kept her up at night; she had to know the truth. First, she had to survive for another week.
Grace turned he
r wrist, the healthy one, and read the time on her sports watch. She’d give Sebastian five more minutes.
The door opened, and wind blasted inside. A male wearing a baseball cap covered with snow kicked the door shut, looked around, and spotted her. He brushed snow off his long overcoat and strode toward her, his boots leaving a wet trail across the sawdust-covered floor. “Grace.”
He was thinner than he’d looked in his picture. “Sebastian.”
“I’m sorry I’m late.” He pulled out the wooden chair across from her small table and sat, his eyes an odd bluish hue. “I can explain.”
She held up her good hand, her temples starting to ache. “It doesn’t matter. Do you have it?” She hoped a vial would get her through until she could see the one and only expert on her condition.
He kicked back. “Yeah, but I thought we could maybe come to another arrangement.” With the hat bill low over his face, and the bar so dark, it was difficult to judge his age. Or rather, what his age appeared to be, considering he’d supplied proof through email that he was over two hundred years old. “What’s the hurry? There’s a storm out there.” He spoke with a very slight lisp.
She tilted her head. The overcoat was odd. “Take off your hat.” Adrenaline started to hum through her veins.
His chest puffed out. “There you go. I knew we’d get along.” With a flourish, he whipped off the cap with black fingernails, revealing thick blond hair—and black eyeliner rimming his eyes.
She blinked. Once and then again, looking closer. Were those colored contacts? Like the ones kids wore for Halloween? Yep. “You have got to be kidding me.” How in the world had he fooled her? She’d asked for documentation, although records could be falsified. She began to stand.
He grasped her good wrist and tugged her down, leaning toward her. He smelled like cheap beer and even cheaper cologne. This close, he appeared to be in his early twenties. “I promise I’ll give you what you want. My blood is all yours after I take a taste of my own.” He opened his mouth, showing fangs.
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