Werewolf in Alaska

originally thought.

Replacing the book, she moved into his bedroom. The atmosphere here was so potently male that she caught her breath. Testosterone oozed from the oversized bed, with its massive peeled-log bedposts and huge mattress. She’d been drawn to it the first time she’d walked into this room, and now she had the luxury of being here without supervision.

Giving in to temptation, she walked to the side of the bed, leaned over it with her arms outstretched, and slid up onto the mattress. She let her feet dangle off the edge, but the bed was big enough that she could have laid crossways on it, no problem.

With her cheek resting against the soft comforter, she breathed in Jake’s scent. Too bad her interaction with him had become so damned confusing and strange, because she’d felt chemistry between them from the beginning. Rubbing her cheek against the material, she imagined lying here with Jake as sexual awareness hummed deep in her belly.

Well, this was pleasant, but it wasn’t getting her any closer to the truth about Jake Hunter. After levering herself off the bed, she smoothed the comforter back into place. Then she opened his nightstand drawer, fully expecting she might find a package of condoms there. Many guys kept them handy by the bed.

No condoms. But she found a notepad, a couple of pens, and underneath that, a slim paperback titled Down with Dogma: Benefits of Were-Human Cooperation. She held the book for several seconds as her heart thudded wildly and her brain struggled to make sense of what she was seeing.

With trembling hands, she opened the cover and scanned the first page. The word werewolf leaped out at her as if surrounded with blinking lights. She seemed to be holding a treatise of some kind that had been written by a werewolf.

Or perhaps the author, Duncan MacDowell, was pretending to be a werewolf. It could be a spoof. In fact, it probably was. She was panicking for no reason.

But as she thumbed through the pages, she discovered that the text had been marked up, apparently by Jake. Spoofs didn’t usually prompt people to do that. They read the jokes, laughed, and passed on the funny book to the next person. They didn’t underline and write notes in the margin.

Her heart rate picked up again. The book was for real. She wasn’t sure what that meant, but she had some ideas. Sinking down to the bed, she drew in a quivering breath and began to read.

Eventually that position became uncomfortable, but she couldn’t stop reading. Her eyes still glued to the pages, she nudged off her shoes, turned one of Jake’s gigantic pillows on end, and scooted up on the bed. She leaned back. Much better.

She was halfway through the book when a soft sound penetrated her deep concentration. She glanced up and nearly fainted from shock.

Jake stood in the bedroom doorway.

She stared at him for what seemed like forever as adrenaline pumped through her veins and flushed her skin. He looked every inch a man—an extremely virile, travel-rumpled man. He’d pulled his dark green shirt loose from the waistband of his jeans, as if he’d needed to be more comfortable on the drive home from the airport.

Concern was etched on his rugged face, but she saw no menace in his expression. He didn’t seem angry to discover her trespassing on his property. She had the odd thought that of the two of them, he might have more to fear than she did.

Slowly she closed the book before sliding to the edge of the bed and putting both feet on the floor. Then she swallowed in an attempt to remove the metallic taste from her mouth. “You’re back early.”

“So it seems.” His voice sounded as rusty as hers felt.

Looking into his green eyes, she searched for answers. “Who are you, Jake?”

“Your across-the-lake neighbor.”

“And?”

“You tell me.” But his resigned expression indicated he knew the game was over.

She felt light-headed as she balanced on the brink of a truth she’d never imagined could be possible. “I think . . .” She paused to lick her dry lips. “I think you save careless women from ferocious mother bears.”

“Maybe.”

She sucked in a breath. He hadn’t denied it. “Instead of asking who you are, should I ask what you are?”

That sparked the anger she might have expected earlier when he’d first caught her in his home. “I’m still a who, Rachel. Regardless of what form I take, I’m a creature with a soul and a conscience. I’m a thinking being at all times. I’m no monster.”

She’d hurt him. What an astonishing thought. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t very sensitive of me to say.” She gripped the book tightly in both hands, needing something to hold on to. “But give me some credit for not becoming hysterical, okay?”

“I wouldn’t expect that of you. Anyone who leads a full-grown wolf into her bedroom and dresses his wounds isn’t the hysterical type.”

Her pulse quickened. “So you really are a . . .” She couldn’t make herself say it. The idea seemed too preposterous, even with the evidence all around her.

“A werewolf. Yes, I am.”

She took several quick, shallow breaths and managed not to faint. “Wow.” She didn’t really believe him. Not yet, anyway. Such things took a while to sink in.

“And I would give anything, all I possess in this world, if you’d never found that out.”

Fear skittered up her spine for the first time since he’d arrived. “Because you’re going to kill me?”

“No! God, no. I could never hurt you.”

Her shoulders sagged. “That’s a relief.” Her laughter was edged with the hysteria she’d denied feeling seconds ago. “I was afraid you might walk over here and break my neck with one easy twist.”

“Damn it, I saved you from the bear! How could you think I’d hurt you?”

“Because I know too much. It happens all the time in movies. You might not want to kill me, but it’s the only way to guarantee my silence. It’s not, by the way,” she added quickly. “I can keep a secret.”

Jake sighed. “You might think so, but this is one hell of a secret. Keeping it won’t be easy, and the repercussions if you don’t . . . Let’s say the stakes are extremely high.”

“I’ll bet.”

“You have no idea. This kind of security breach isn’t supposed to happen. We take great care to make sure humans have no idea we exist.”

“Just how many of you are there?”

He squeezed his eyes shut. “Damn.”

“How many, Jake? Six? Twenty? Thousands?”

When he opened his eyes, his gaze was bleak. “The less you know, the better, so I’m not going to answer that question.” He hesitated, as if choosing his words very carefully. “This really is not good, Rachel. I blame myself, but unfortunately, you’ll suffer the consequences, too.”

The fear returned. “Like what?”

“I don’t know yet.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

“If you don’t, who does?” She’d been so pleased with her relatively calm reaction to finding out her neighbor was a werewolf, but his uncertainty about her fate was creating a panicky feeling she might not be able to control much longer.

“Never mind. But whatever happens, I promise I won’t turn you over to the Were Council.”

“There is one?” Her voice went up an octave.

“Shit. Forget I said that.”

“Does this Were Council kill people?”

“No. For God’s sake, quit talking like that. Weres don’t kill. We have a bad reputation thanks to horror novels and Hollywood, but we’re not killers. We’re protectors.”

She really wanted to believe him. “But you mentioned something about me paying the consequences. Forgive me if I’m a tad bit worried.”