by Vonna Harper
14
Cat had planted some roses and other bushes outside her place. The only time Matt had made the mistake of asking Addie why she bothered with flowers that took so much work and well water, she’d replied that her soul needed the color, and he should understand. Besides, they drew butterflies and bees. Studying the flowers, he debated telling Addie he must have a soul after all. She’d retort that of course he did.
Why did he do things like not letting Addie know how much he enjoyed and appreciated flowers? he pondered, only he knew the answer. He’d been protecting his emotions for so long it had become habit.
He shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be turning off the engine and getting out of the high, dusty cab. He’d told Cat the truth when he’d explained about the extra work he’d taken on since Beale quit. Beale had called last night, not saying anything either of them could hang their hats on but letting Matt know that his wondering if he was a coward wasn’t sitting too well with him. If Beale called again, he’d tell the young man his position hadn’t been filled.
As recently as a couple of weeks ago, Cat would have been exploding out the front door and launching herself at him. Before she could so much as wrap her limbs around him, he’d be carrying her back inside. They wouldn’t say so much as “hello” until after sex.
No, he admonished himself as he went up the stairs, he shouldn’t be here. He didn’t trust himself. The last thing he’d ever tell her was about last night’s dream. In it he settled his lasso around her so her arms were pinned to her sides. Keeping the rope taut, he slowly, relentlessly pulled her toward him. That done, he held the rope over her head with one hand while attacking her jeans zipper with the other. Ignoring her protests, he hog-tied her, cut off the rest of her clothes, and jammed himself into her helpless body.
It had only been a dream, damn it. He’d never take her against her will. Would he?
He knocked, stepped back, and sucked in several quick breaths that made him a little light-headed. Get in your damn truck. On your way out, call and tell her this is no good. You don’t trust yourself.
“Matt,” Cat said through the screen door. “Hello.”
“Yeah. Okay.” Taking in her dim outline, he couldn’t think of anything else to say.
Sighing, she pushed the screen at him. “Come in.”
Cat’s place always smelled good. When he’d commented on it, she’d said something about candles, incense, and essential oils—whatever those were. Today the scents swirled over and into him. Just like that, he had a damned erection when he needed to keep a lid on such things.
Except for not having put on shoes, she was ready for the day. His guess was she’d already had breakfast. After all, her life pace wasn’t that different from his. If she hadn’t headed for her coffee table, he might not have noted what was on it. Sitting on the couch, she looked up at him. He figured he outweighed her by a good seventy pounds. Right now the difference between them seemed even greater. Energy all but exploded between them.
“This”—her hand hovered over a stack of photos—“is what I need you to see.”
Because she hadn’t indicated she wanted him to sit next to her, he settled his butt as far away on the couch as possible and still see the pictures. Jamming his hands between his knees for safekeeping, he leaned forward. One move from her and he’d be all over her.
“I took the pictures several days ago,” she continued, no longer looking at him. “For a while I wasn’t sure I was going to share them with anyone, with you. But I can’t keep what I’ve discovered to myself.”
Cat took life full-on, which was a big part of what appealed to him about her. Nothing like a woman who didn’t back down. Right now, however, her usual confidence seemed to be missing.
“Why not?” he asked.
“Look at them.”
Instead of shoving the stack his way as he thought she’d do, she handed him one at a time. Sounding a bit like a nervous tour guide, she told him how she’d found Ghost Cave and the trouble she’d initially had getting decent pictures of the petroglyphs. If she’d spotted his erection, she gave no indication. Unfortunately, it showed no sign of fading.
“I’m not going to say anything about how long I’ve been keeping the cave to myself.” She handed him a picture of minimally drawn figures in a battle scene. “It’s public land, government property really. Just thinking of some bureaucracy charging in and taking over . . . I loved knowing I had this all to myself.”
She hadn’t said anything to him. Why not? Somewhere in the midst of all their rutting, surely there’d been time for conversation.
Years ago, Santo and Addie had shown him a couple of boulders on their property that had random stick figures and squiggles that had been done by Native Americans. There’d never been a discussion about sharing their find with local historians, let alone the feds, but that would have changed if they’d been the ones to find Ghost Cave, wouldn’t it?
Maybe Cat had run out of words, because she handed him the next four photographs without first explaining what she believed they represented. His heartbeat had been a bit rapid when he’d walked in here, a condition he chalked up to thoughts of their physical relationship. With each picture, he felt less and less in control of his body. Going by the muted lighting at the edges of each photograph, he had a pretty good idea how dim the cave’s interior was.
Had Cat worn a jacket as defense against the chill? Had she ever felt as if she weren’t alone, that perhaps the souls or spirits of those who had created the drawings still lingered?
“You weren’t afraid?” he asked.
“It crossed my mind that the cave might not be as stable as it looked, but I figured I could get out in time.”
“Could you?”
When she stared at him, the look in her eyes rocked him. Today wasn’t just about her showing him her find. The thing was, he’d already suspected that.
“All right, maybe I couldn’t,” she muttered, “but I didn’t and still don’t believe the risk was that great.” She lightly ran her fingers over the edges of the sheet she was about to hand him. “Have you ever done something because you felt you had no choice?”
Hell, yes.
“That’s the way it was for me. It didn’t take long to realize I’d been handed an incredible gift.”
“Gift?”
From the looks of it, she’d just braided her hair, but that didn’t stop her from trying to run her hand along her scalp. “I hope you aren’t making fun of me.”
“I’m not.”
“I want to believe you, Matt. Need to. Do you comprehend how incredible and rare this is?” She went back to risking a paper cut. “Most people go their entire lives not experiencing anything like this.”
With each word, he became more aware of her, something he didn’t believe was possible. “No, they don’t.”
“Maybe—probably—there’s nothing more at work here than chance. Shit happens. Sometimes it’s good shit. I was in the right place at the right time, end of story.”
Except she didn’t believe that and with his heart reaching double time, neither did he. Stay on track. Be her confidant, nothing else. “What’s next?” he asked.
It wasn’t his imagination; she didn’t want to hand him the facedown photograph she was holding. He didn’t want to see it, somehow knew he’d be changed by it. And yet what choice did he have?
“Just study this, all right?” She slid it toward him with unsteady fingers. “Take your time.”
Trapped and excited, he turned it over. The ink hadn’t had long to dry, which meant he risked smearing it. Still, he couldn’t withdraw his fingers from the exquisitely created pack of wolves. They’d been depicted as individuals, and yet, as far as he could determine, they were equals. He didn’t believe there was an alpha. Holding his breath, he ran his forefinger over each muzzle. Still not breathing, he touched the first eye.
“I understand,” Cat whispered. “Impossible to ignore the detail, isn’t it.”
“The eyes are alive.”
Instead of touching his wrist as he sensed she wanted to, she pulled back. “I thought the same thing. Matt, they’re looking at . . . Are you ready to see what it is?”
He hadn’t been prepared for anything that had been happening recently and would give anything to have his physically strenuous but emotionally simple life back. Damn it, he’d worked so hard to get to this place.
“Show me.”
She started to hand the next shot to him, only to stop. “I’m hoping Helaku can explain. If anyone can, it’s him.”
He’d seen the old Paiute maybe a half dozen times since Santo and Addie took him under their roof. At first he’d barely been aware of Helaku’s presence. But Helaku had kept studying him with his ancient eyes as if looking for something. Leave me alone, Matt had wanted to demand, but what if Helaku said he didn’t know what Matt was talking about? Better to keep his distance.
The last time the two men had been under the same roof had been during a farming career day put on by the local 4-H and held at the high school. Along with other ranchers, Matt had sat on a panel first explaining their operations and then answering questions. Helaku had been one of three Paiutes who talked about how their ancestors had used the land. At least that’s how things had started. Before long, however, Helaku’s description of how ancient Native Americans tracked both prey and enemies had everyone spellbound. When he started talking about his ancestors’ belief in nature’s spirits, something had opened inside Matt.
Looking up, he locked eyes with Cat. “You’re friends with Helaku?”
“I’m not sure I’d call it a friendship. I couldn’t respect him any more than I do.”
Are you stalling? her eyes asked. Of course not, he wanted to retort, but he’d picked up on her tension, either that or he was getting vibes from whatever was on the back side of that piece of paper.
Determined not to give away his reaction, he turned the photograph over. At first he didn’t understand why she’d made such a big deal of this wolf drawing. Then he compared the pack in the lower right with the one that dominated the sheet.
Bigger. Stronger. With impossibly black eyes and a stance that screamed alpha. No doubt about it, the other wolves were in awe of it or intimidated or both.
Same as him.
The house sounds faded, and there wasn’t enough air in the room. He felt hot and cold, numb and super-sensitive. Scared.
Hell no! Not scared, not him.
“Is the perspective off?” he asked when he could speak. “The artist made him larger because, hell, I don’t know why.”
“Here.” Cat thrust another paper at him. “I stepped back a bit when I took this one so you can clearly see the difference. The way the others are looking at him, I believe everything was drawn at the same time.”
“Deliberate? Not artistic license?”
Her silence gnawed at him, said she knew more than she was ready to reveal. Willing himself to do the last thing he wanted to, he studied the alpha’s every detail. He’d seen bulls carry themselves like this with testosterone running through them and making them fearless.
Oh, damn, the oversized wolf had balls and a long, thick, erect cock.
The longer he stared at the intact male, the more his own erection grew. If he had hackles, they’d be standing on edge.
“Why?” he muttered. “What was the point of this?”
“Matt?”
Alerted to her hesitant tone, he turned his attention from the photograph to her. He could smell her sex.
“What?”
Looking as if she’d never seen him before, she hurried to her feet and positioned herself on the opposite side of the table. Cows distanced themselves from bulls when they weren’t ready to be bred, but her scent said she needed to be mounted.
“I don’t think having you come here was such a good idea.” She nodded at what strained for freedom between his legs.
“Too late. I’m here.”
“Yeah.” She licked her lips. “You are. Matt, you’ve seen everything I think I’m going to show Helaku, but that isn’t the last picture I took.”
The blood surging through his veins made listening and comprehending all but impossible. “It isn’t?”
“No. I thought . . .” Leaning forward, she picked up the photographs he hadn’t yet seen and held them to her chest. “Yesterday I believed showing them to you was a good idea. Now I’m not sure.”
He could overtake her in a single leap. “Why not?”
“Because you’re scaring me.”
Her words got to him. Touched a core of responsibility he’d nearly lost. “I don’t want to, Cat. I’m sorry if I am. Go on.” He indicated what she was holding. “Show me.”
Nodding, she slowly turned one of the pictures over so he could see it. So he had no choice but to acknowledge what was there. The longer he studied it, the more alarmed he became. Alarmed, damn it, not scared.
“I know where that was taken,” he said, “the very spot.”
How is that possible? her eyes said.
At a loss for words, he took the photograph from her and dropped it onto the table. His mind processed what he was seeing and yet it didn’t. With the surrounding vegetation for perspective, he had no doubt of the flesh-and-blood wolf’s size. Even with shadow blurring its features, the piercing black eyes made their impact. Cat had captured everything from the tips of the wolf’s forward-pointing ears to his bushy tail. There was no doubt of the wolf’s sex.
“How far away were you?” he finally asked.
“Maybe twenty feet.”
Twenty feet was nothing. The predator could have covered that in a single leap. Still looking at what he hadn’t fully processed, he tried to force himself to relax. Bottom line, Cat was safe.
Maybe there’d never been a hint of danger.
Maybe the wolf had deliberately revealed himself to her. What did he mean, maybe?
“Matt?”
“What?”
“You’re tearing the photograph.”
Damn it, she was right. The thing was, he didn’t remember picking the shot up again. Dropping it, he went back to studying the incomprehensible. A bull heading for a corral full of cows had nothing on this living, breathing alpha wolf. Cat’s shot had frozen the beast, but there was no doubting his potential and deadly purpose.
“The prints you found,” she said, “belong to him.”
Hopefully there was only one wolf this size. The thought of any more made his blood run cold. Then he looked at Cat again and chill became heat. His muscles flexed and tightened. She’d taken unbelievable pictures of a massive predator and had shared them with him. Now he had to deal with it.
Had to deal with what was happening to him.
15
Even before Matt moved, Cat sensed what he was going to do. Feeling as if she might explode, she backtracked. Arms at his sides, he stepped around the coffee table and headed for her.
“Don’t.”
Going by his expression, he either hadn’t heard or her warning hadn’t penetrated. He’d started changing in indefinable ways from the moment she showed him the oversized-wolf cave painting, His eyes had darkened until they mirrored the wolf’s, and his gaze had grown predator-sharp. Even without fangs, he seemed less human.
Warning herself not to look at his erection, she reached behind her for the nearby recliner. Her fingers brushed an arm, but instead of trying to put the stupid, useless barrier between them, she stood her ground.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she asked.
“What we both want.”
Damn the man for being right! No way could she deny that along with distrust, fear, and confusion, heat warred for her attention. He was still human; she didn’t dare lose sight of that. But the human was being swallowed by something else.
“Just because you’re turned on doesn’t mean I am.”
“Yes, you are.”
“How can you say that?”
; “I can smell you.”
Smell. No doubt, then, that his senses were sharpening because her sex was becoming fluid and was warring for her attention. “I just took a shower.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
Going by his rough tone, she guessed talking was becoming difficult. Even as she tried to process what that said about what was taking place in him, she gave thanks for her confusion. After all, how could she possibly want to fathom everything?
Even as he closed in on her, she fell in love with Matt’s smooth stride. He didn’t simply walk—he glided. With every step, his thigh muscles strained the jeans. His legs couldn’t possibly be becoming larger and yet—
Powerful male hands reached for her. Alive with emotions she had no words for, she watched as her wrists disappeared under his fingers. He gripped her hard and harsh, the message clear.
Today was all about having his way.
Drawing her arms around his waist so she was off balance and hard against him, he thrust his crotch at her. “Take it.”
Demand he leave me alone. Lie and say you don’t want him. “Not like this. Matt, it won’t work. Our clothes.”
Holding her at arm’s length, he looked down at her. Trepidation and anticipation warred within her. Even drunk she’d never felt like this.
“What do you want?” she asked.
“Strip.”
Maybe she should point out how hard that would be without the use of her hands. Instead she waited. Watched. Hummed.
“You heard me, Cat. Enough with the clothes.”
She tried to lift her arms only to surrender to his greater strength. Drumbeats echoed inside her. When finally he released her, she remained in place before him. The compelling beats seemed to be coming from him.
Fluid and confident, he stepped to her side and grabbed her braid. “Do it.”
He applied just enough pressure that she had no choice but to look upward. The ceiling offered neither comfort nor explanation. Lost in sensation, she started in on her blouse buttons. She’d debated cutting her hair short only to chicken out because she was afraid that would take more work. Braids and ponytails were easy and practical.