so far. He chafed at the barriers, even while knowing they had to stay firmly in place. His belief system had never seemed like a straitjacket before, but it did tonight.
“All right, wolf, I surrender.”
If only she knew how often he’d fantasized having her saying that in a different context.
“I get the feeling that once you dig in your heels, there’s no budging you, so I’m going to leave you alone and get ready for bed. And I’ll call Otis. I’m sure he’s frantic.” Rising to her feet, she sat on the bed and the mattress shifted above him.
Jake wondered how she’d handle the phone call. If he was right about her, she wouldn’t mention that she’d been saved by a big black wolf. He wanted to be right about her.
“Hey, Otis. Sorry about that, but I couldn’t talk until I’d made it safely inside.” One of her running shoes dropped to the floor. Then she tossed a sock on top of it. “Yeah, I’m fine.” The other shoe landed with a soft plop. “The bear decided to leave. Guess it changed its mind about eating me.”
Jake exhaled in relief. He
“Actually, it was my fault for not looking before I walked out of my workshop. Trust me, I’ll be a lot more careful in the future.”
As she stood barefoot next to the bed, he heard her unzip her jeans and then saw her shove them down to her ankles before stepping out of them. His nose twitched as he drew in the sweet fragrance she stirred up by shucking off those jeans.
“Absolutely, Otis. I should have that triptych finished by sometime next month. Once I’m closer to the end of the project, we’ll figure out the best time for me to install it in the lobby.” She paused. “Right. I’ll need a couple of days to do that.”
She was silent for a moment, and then she laughed. “All my doors and windows are locked tight. Don’t worry. Okay? I’m safe now. Good night.” She sighed. The click of the phone being placed on the nightstand was followed by her T-shirt joining the rest of her clothes on the floor. “And that’s that, wolf.”
Last of all, her underwear landed on the pile. Plain white cotton with only a smidgen of lace. She didn’t dress seductively, not even when it came to underwear. Once again he asked himself why he found her so wildly sexy.
Part of it was her scent. He’d reacted to it from that first day, and not only because he liked almonds. Her natural aroma drew him, too.
Had she been Were, the reason would have been obvious. An attraction this strong usually meant a werewolf had found his soul mate. But he refused to consider the possibility that his soul mate would turn out to be a human.
The Wallace brothers had each justified their choice that way, but Jake thought they were rationalizing. They’d lusted after those women just as he lusted after Rachel, and they’d justified their actions by claiming a soul-mate connection. It had made the decision so much easier for them.
Jake thought they should have been stronger than that. They could have resisted, just as he’d resisted Rachel all this time. He didn’t pretend it was easy, but with the fate of werewolves hanging in the balance, tough choices had to be made.
Rachel gathered her clothes and shoes and walked into the bathroom that adjoined the bedroom. By turning his head, Jake could see that she’d left the door ajar. And why not? No need for modesty if your guest is a wolf. A rush of water indicated she’d turned on the shower.
Moments later, the shower-curtain rings scraped across the rod as she stepped in. The aroma of almonds became more prominent, and he imagined her using scented soap on her lithe body. Then she began to sing some popular song about rainbows.
Sharp longing overshadowed the ache in his side. Being here with her in such an intimate way was far more tortuous than he’d anticipated. He should have known, though. Hiding in the shadows night after night had been a small taste of what he was experiencing now.
What a ridiculous situation he’d created for himself. Had he managed to save her while in human form, they at least could have spent the evening together and shared a conversation, maybe even a glass of wine. He wouldn’t have allowed himself to get carried away, because that would violate his code, but they could have talked.
But as he listened to the water run and imagined her standing naked in the shower, he wondered if his code would have been strong enough to stop him from seducing her. Maybe not. In wolf form, he had no opportunity to go against his beliefs. So this situation, maddening as it was, saved him from making a huge mistake.
Sometime later, Rachel shut off the light in the bathroom and walked over to the bedroom window. From his truncated view he could see that her ankles and calves were bare, but he couldn’t tell whether she slept in pajamas or in the nude.
“Wow, it’s warm tonight. I sure won’t need the quilt I gave you, wolf. The one you’re not using, as it turns out. But it’s downright hot in here, don’t you think?”
Yes, he did. Speculating that she might sleep nude made the room seem even hotter. He was overheated and squished under her bed, but he wasn’t going to come out and take a chance she’d try wielding that pink razor again.
“I should probably keep the window closed, but it’s stifling. I say we open it a crack. The security latch might not stop a bear, but it’ll slow one down, and at least we’ll have a breeze.” The window creaked and cool air slipped through the small opening. “Ah, that’s better.”
She walked back to the bed. “Alert me if you hear a bear at the window, okay?” Then she climbed in.
To preserve his sanity, Jake pictured her wearing pajamas. Baggy, opaque ones with no style whatsoever.
The sheets rustled, and she switched off the bedside lamp. “Good night, wolf.”
Time lost all meaning as he lay in his cramped position thinking of her stretched out only inches above him, maybe naked, maybe not. Perhaps he’d been there three minutes, perhaps three hours. In the end, he concluded he’d been stuffed under the bed too long and he was too damned close to Rachel. He might start howling if he didn’t get out of there.
He listened to her breathe. Slow and steady. No movement of sheets or innerspring. She must be asleep. He hoped so, because he was vacating his hidey-hole. The space was not designed for a full-grown male werewolf.
Moving carefully, he eased to the foot of the bed and stuck his nose out. Then he listened again. The rhythm of her breathing hadn’t changed. So far, so good.
He worked his shoulders free, wincing at the pain in his side. Rachel slept on. Another few seconds, and he was out and standing on wobbly legs. Ahh.
Moving slowly across the wooden floor, he walked into her living room. The endless twilight of an Alaskan summer night allowed him to see the room clearly, and he took a look around.
Typical cabin furniture filled the space. If he had to guess, he’d say she’d kept most of Ike’s stuff—a sofa and two chairs made of sturdy wood and green plaid cushions that had faded over the years. They were gathered in front of a rock fireplace positioned between the windows that looked out on the back deck. An oval rag rug and a scarred coffee table completed the arrangement.
Jake’s cabin didn’t look all that different from this, except his cushions were plain green instead of plaid, and slightly newer. Instead of a storm door leading to his deck, he had a slider so he could manipulate it as a wolf. His fireplace was quite similar to hers, even down to the slate hearth.
Glancing at the mantel, he noticed the driftwood wolf. It was a shade lighter than it had been while he owned it, which meant she’d cleaned and oiled the wood. As he gazed at it, he had the oddest feeling of shared custody. A link had been forged between them the day he’d bought the carving, almost as if he’d adopted her child.
But he’d given up all rights to it, and that was for the best. Turning away from the driftwood wolf, he continued his survey of Rachel’s cabin. Like many floor plans in this part of the country, no division existed between the living room and the dining area. The round oak table and four chairs at the other end of the space seemed to
