Silence of the Wolf

Chapter 13

Tom knew his idea was crazy, but as soon as Elizabeth located where the men had camped out, he wanted to propose that she stay with his family. Whenever someone could really be useful to the pack, they wanted the person to join them. At least that’s what he told himself.

It was essential that the pack members liked the wolf—everyone who had met her indicated they had—but skills that were important made all the difference to a pack like theirs that operated a whole town.

That wasn’t the only reason he wanted Elizabeth in the pack, but he thought it might help sell the idea to everyone else before he could work up the nerve to expose how he felt about her. And how much he wanted to get to know her better. Elizabeth was so secretive about her affiliations with her own pack that he suspected she wouldn’t want to be with their pack—or any other.

She’d curled up in the B and B guest bed, covers over her naked body.

Tom wanted to join her in that bed. Wanted to see her naked again, craved touching her, smelling her, tasting her. He just wanted to be with her. And kiss her like she’d kissed him on the slope.

With half-lidded eyes, she watched him. He needed to help her dress and to return her to Darien’s house. Yet he was torn, because he also wanted to check out the hotel and chase after the men who had been there. He wanted to catch them and make them pay for hurting Elizabeth.

“Go with the men when they get to the hotel,” she said, her voice tired, her eyelids drifting closed. “You don’t need to watch over me.”

She was beautiful, her red hair spilling across the pale blue pillow, the blue comforter resting at her naked shoulders that he wanted to kiss—that and her neck and her cheeks and her full pink lips. She would be his choice for dream mating if he’d ever had any dreams like that!

“I’ll just sleep,” she said.

“No. We need to return to Darien’s place. It’s better protected.”

“Did you see them? When you looked through the hotel window?” Elizabeth asked.

“No. They shut the door to that room, so all I saw was the door close.”

“We could have gone after them,” she groused.

He smiled. “If you had been a hundred percent fine, yes.”

She grunted.

“I’m serious.” He sat on the bed next to her, running his hand over her thigh covered by the comforter, his gaze locked onto hers. “At least two men are involved in this. Besides, I’m certain they were in the van when it took off, so it’s not like we’re going to catch up with any of them at the old hotel.”

He was certain the minivan had been the same one that he’d seen passing in front of the hospital while he waited for Doc Weber to give him the findings concerning Elizabeth’s injuries. Had they known she was at the hospital, so they had time to grab her things then? Most likely. A lookout could also have watched Tom take Elizabeth to the tavern for lunch and alerted the men when Tom and Elizabeth finished eating there.

“All right. Let me sleep, then,” she said.

“Not here.” He rose from the bed and grabbed his jeans, then pulled them on.

By the time he yanked on the rest of his clothes, she was nearly asleep. He scooped her clothes up. He’d never expected to be undressing and dressing a woman he’d just met but who had his senses reeling. And not have his way with her the way he desired.

He tugged the covers aside, and she grumbled something. He smiled and slid on one of her socks, then the other. Slipping her panties on when she didn’t move a muscle to help was harder than he expected. He grunted as he got the tantalizing ice blue panties on. She smiled.

“You could help,” he said, not really meaning it.

“You could leave me alone,” she said, not opening her eyes. “Just let me sleep.”

He pulled on the jeans very slowly. She winced.

“Sorry.”

When he finished and helped her to sit up to put on her lacy blue bra, she held her breath.

“Maybe we should just put your sweater on and not bother with the bra,” he said.

“Okay, you can carry it in your pocket.” She smiled at him, the look one of pure delight. “You know, psychologically, kissing makes the hurt go away. Mind over matter. Not that I’m hurting that much.”

He helped her on with her sweater, unable to keep from taking a longer look at her breasts as he tugged the sweater carefully over her arms and head and then down to her waist.

As concerned as he was about how she felt, he hoped he didn’t look too eager. She looked at his lips and licked her own, as if in invitation.

Vixen.

“I promise I won’t bite too hard,” she said.

He laughed and took her face in his hands, his thumbs caressing her temples, and then leaned down. “Here I was worried about you being hurt further. Certainly not me.”

He kissed her. Softly, gently. Her lips opened to further exploration, but he didn’t push it. Until she licked his mouth and smiled a little at him with the invite. He locked his lips over her lower one. Again, she smiled a little. Kissing her was like sampling a sweet, forbidden dessert, tantalizing and enticing the sampler to want more.

Her hands were on his neck, her thumbs caressing his jaw in a way that was provocative and incredibly sexy. He was already in full-blown arousal and had a devil of time keeping his feelings in check. He alternated between soft and unassuming kisses and inserting his tongue with teasing flicks and deepening the kiss. Trying hard not to lean her back onto the bed and press his interest further than was prudent, he smelled her excitement, her desire, and listened to her rapid heartbeat pounding as hard as his. He thought she wanted to go further as much as he did.

She was breathing fast and leaned away from his kiss to take a breath. He feared he’d overdone it and hurt her. Instead, she had her second wind, and this time, she gathered his sweater in her fists and pulled him close to get another kiss.

Instantly he obliged, their mouths fusing, their tongues caressing and appraising. He didn’t want this to end. But he knew he’d better before they both regretted it. He broke off in the gentlest possible way and kissed her forehead, his mouth lingering there far too long. He didn’t want to end this, and he needed her to know it.

“I have to help you dress and return you to Darien’s house,” he said.

“If you insist,” she said, and the way she looked at him indicated that she wanted more, too.

That was the reason he posed the next question, although he was sure what her response would be. But he had to. “I’ve never asked a woman this before, but… would you like to join the pack?” He knew he shouldn’t ask. Not without getting Darien and Lelandi’s approval.

“Thanks, but no thanks.”

He wouldn’t take her negative response at face value. “You’re not a loner,” he said, certain of it. She might have had to live alone, but she got along well with everyone she’d met here. She didn’t act like a lone wolf. Not the way someone like Nurse Matthew did.

She didn’t respond, just looked at his chest. He sighed and helped her on with her boots. “I have something back at the house that you can wear that’s easier to get in and out of until we can pick up something else for you.”

“Thank you, Tom.” She seemed to want to say something else, given the way she looked at him and bit her lip. But she pulled her parka sleeve on one arm and didn’t say anything.

He helped pull her parka on the rest of the way and then escorted her out of the B and B. They were ready to head for his truck when Darien stalked across the street, catching Tom’s eye. Tom wasn’t surprised to see Darien arrive when it looked like they might have found the men who had injured Elizabeth.

“Our men got her bags, ID, laptop, everything. At least we think it’s everything. You’ll have to look it over and see for sure, Elizabeth,” Darien said, sounding pleased but still highly annoyed that anyone could have targeted her like they had in his pack’s territory. And had been hiding right under their noses.

“Thank God. But… you didn’t catch them,” she said, appearing somewhat relieved because the villains had left her personal items behind.

Darien shook his head. He looked at Tom and said, “You say they drove a white minivan.”

“Yeah. I saw it when we were at the hospital, too,” Tom said.

“Damn,” Darien said, rubbing his chin as he looked toward the old hotel. “Those three outsiders at the tavern earlier today?”

“Were driving a white minivan,” Tom guessed.

“Yeah, they were,” Darien said.

Elizabeth let out her breath in an exasperated huff. “We just managed to chase them off.”

Darien was quick to say, “We got your stuff back. That’s what’s important.”

“They must have been afraid when they ran out of there.”

“We didn’t smell any fear,” Darien said.

“Then what?” she asked.

“Not sure. Take her back home, will you, Tom?” Darien gave her a pack leader look that said she was his to command for now. “Sleep the rest of the night. No more running in your wolf coat or otherwise.” He said to Tom, “If you have to, stay with her.”

“He won’t have to. I’m not waking up until I absolutely have to tomorrow.”

She could have been annoyed with Darien for saying what he did about Tom taking charge of her. Yet, she swore more was being communicated than what was being spoken aloud—the way Darien cast a look at Tom, and the way Tom gave him an almost imperceptible nod in response.

She even wondered if Darien had put Tom up to asking her to join the pack. In her father’s pack, the leader would have decided such a thing. Certainly not a sub-leader.

“Thank you for the offer, by the way, Tom. Nobody’s ever invited me to join a pack,” she said on the ride back to Darien’s house. She appreciated being asked and wanted Tom to know that her refusal had nothing to do with the pack or him, but more to do with her past experiences and the problems with her uncle and half brother.

“You’re not a loner,” he said again.

“It doesn’t matter.”

He glanced at her. “It does. For a pack, it matters.”

She wouldn’t fight him on this issue. The point was moot.

When they arrived back at Darien’s house, Tom escorted her to her room. “You might need a bodyguard tonight.”

She smiled up at him, touching his sweater-covered chest. “Do you always like to live dangerously?”

He laughed. “Sorry, Elizabeth. I can’t see that you would be too rough on me.”

“You never know.” She didn’t want to be alone. She wanted whatever they could have just this once. No strings. No mating. Just a meeting of the minds. And their bodies, as far as they could take it and still not be mated wolves.

“’Night, Elizabeth.” He waited for her response. A kiss. A hug maybe.

Trying to discourage anything more between them and annoyed with herself for getting so worked up over any man, she kissed him on the cheek. “’Night, Tom.”

She walked into the bedroom and realized she couldn’t take off her clothes without his help. She turned and frowned. He watched her, waiting for her to retire for the night. She wondered if he believed she might try to leave and do something further about the guys who had injured her. But she had no intention of going anywhere else tonight.

“Okay, I really, really hate to ask this because it’s such an imposition, but… could you help me out of my clothes again?”

Undressing Elizabeth one more time was way more than an imposition. It killed Tom to see her naked skin and not be able to taste it, to feel it, to smell her sweet scent and want more.

He waited a moment, trying to find the right words, and finally said, “You’re killing me, you know?” He shook his head, smiling, and turned toward his bedroom. “I’ll get one of my shirts for you. It’ll probably be a while before they bring you your bags.”

When he returned with the softest blue-plaid flannel shirt he owned, he found her sitting on the bed, her parka on a chair. He closed the bedroom door. She stretched her arms up to him so that he could remove her sweater.

“If I keep removing your clothes, something more is bound to happen,” he said, hopeful, yet practical.

“So… let it.”

He raised a brow, not sure what she was agreeing to. He pulled the sweater over her head and stared down at her mouthwatering breasts, then shifted his gaze to her face. “If you kiss me again…” He let his words trail off, waiting to hear what she had in mind.

“You’re supposed to kiss me—to make the hurt go away.” She raised her foot. He pulled off one boot and then the other.

He thought she meant more than the physical pain. He wondered what she’d experienced that had made her a loner. He was so used to helping others that he wanted to help her, too. But his feelings went deeper than that.

The cold wind blew against the closed window, but the room was toasty warm. He wasn’t in any hurry to undress her or to help her into his flannel shirt or to leave her. She stood and he removed her jeans. He hesitated to take off her panties, thinking to help her put his shirt on, when she climbed onto the bed and pulled the covers over herself.

He picked up his flannel shirt off the bed. “Didn’t you want me to help you into this?”

“Kiss me,” she said.

“A good-night kiss,” he said. Yet he didn’t think she meant that.

Her smile was wicked.

“If I kiss you the way I want to, it’s bound to go a lot further than that this time.” He had to be honest with her. He wanted a lot more. Not a mating, but something that said he wanted to go further later if they were both agreeable.

“I count on it,” she said, reaching up to tug at his belt loop.

He was out of his clothes in a flash, making her smile. He pulled the covers aside, slid over to her side of the bed, and began kissing her again—cheeks, mouth, throat, shoulders—his hands sliding all over her soft skin. He kept telling himself he wasn’t ready to mate her, but his body said otherwise.

Elizabeth knew she was nuts to encourage this. The last man she’d trusted with her heart had stomped all over it and left her, so she hadn’t felt this way toward anyone since. She knew Tom lusted after her because she was someone new and different, and this wasn’t for the long term. Which suited her perfectly.

She thought she could do this—a bit of sexual release and then go about her business, return home, do her job.

She wanted this intimacy between wolves and her coyote half. Wanted to feel loved, if only for a fleeting moment. Wanted to savor the way his pheromones kicked up as he kissed her, touched her, lusted for her, making her own respond in kind. A wolf who would want a woman for a lifetime. Not a human who could ditch her for someone else at the drop of a hat. Not that any of this meant it was for a lifetime.

She kissed him back on the mouth, her hands curling in his hair as he molded a hand to her breast. She realized he observed her, studying her expression, analyzing it, wondering what was going on in her brain. She didn’t want to consider it any further and pulled him down for another kiss.

His hand tightened on her breast as he moved his leg in between hers. He had removed all his clothes, even his boxers, and that had worried her a little. She hoped he didn’t think she wanted a mating.

Still, she had left her panties on, which was a signal she didn’t want to take this all the way. At least in her mind.

When he moved his leg in between hers, prying her open, she felt the exhilaration of sexual tension but also a little apprehension.

Caught up in the heat of passion, she rubbed her leg wickedly on top of his, his mouth not so gentle on hers now. She loved the roughness alternating with tenderness.

His hands moved between holding her face while caressing her cheekbones and sliding down her shoulders and arms in a way that said he loved touching her. Likewise, she felt her way up his toned muscles and enjoyed how they moved beneath her fingertips.

Then he kissed her again. Her mouth, the corners of it, her chin, her throat. Her willingness showed her acceptance of his touch. A wolf would never expose his or her throat to another without completely trusting that individual.

He slid his large hand down her belly. The tips of his fingers paused at the waistband of her bikini panties. She was already wet with need. He could smell her, just as she could smell how aroused he was. His stiff erection brushed her naked belly as they moved against each other, stirring up their hormones, pushing to go further.

She wanted so to slide his hand beneath her panties, to push his fingers deep inside her to make her come, as hot and needy as she was.

He waited a heartbeat. She didn’t stop him. Didn’t place her hand on his and move it out of bounds. She barely breathed, her hands stilled on his arms, his gaze locked onto hers. As if he’d come to a decision, right or wrong, he slipped his fingers beneath her panties. He began to kiss her mouth, licking it, gently nipping her lower lip but not stealing her attention from the way his fingers moved to intercept the knotted bud waiting for his touch.

If Elizabeth wanted to live dangerously, Tom was all for it. He had no intention of mating with her, but he wanted to prove to her just how hot she made him. Especially since she was still wearing panties. Not that that would prevent him from giving her pleasure.

She seemed so needy. He slipped his hand beneath her panties, didn’t sense she wanted him to stop, and plowed right ahead—finding the tantalizing bud that made her arch and moan and whimper as he stroked her. He’d never been with any woman who responded so easily to his touch, wanting more, letting him know just how good he was making her feel.

She raised her leg higher on his, spreading herself more for his easy access, and he wanted to yank off her scrap of silk panties and bare her to him. If he was mating with her, he would. He did consider removing her panties anyway, just to show her that he wouldn’t take advantage of her even with them off, as much as he wanted to bury himself in her.

He was a little afraid he might do just that, with both of them losing their heads in the heat of the moment.

Instead, he stroked her, nuzzling her face affectionately at the same time and enjoying the aroused feminine scent of her mixed with his own musky scent, the heat of their bodies making him even hotter. He rubbed his penis against her soft belly and began kissing her again, so aroused that he wanted to end this now inside her, filling her, taking her.

His thumb stroked her bud, and he felt her come, the tiny ripples of orgasm, the soft mewl of pleasure escaping her lips. He loved bringing her pleasure.

He withdrew his hand from her panties and kissed her again, softly on the mouth this time, a farewell parting for the night. He wanted to go. He wanted to stay. If she wished him to remain here for the night, he couldn’t. Not without craving more.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” he said, stroking her hair.

She looked down at his chest, and he lifted her chin to see tears in her eyes.

“Elizabeth?” he said, his voice low, concerned, shocked.

She gave him a smile, faked to reassure him. “I’ll… see you in the morning.”

“What’s wrong?”

She just shook her head. “Nothing.”

He knew something had upset her, but when it came to figuring out women, more often than not, he and his brothers didn’t have a clue. “Are you hurting?”

She shook her head.

He thought she might be and didn’t want to admit it. That she didn’t want him to believe he was at fault.

He left the bed and threw on his boxers, then went into the bathroom to get her a glass of water.

He gave her the water and waited until she took a sip and seemed to feel a little better. “See you in the morning.” He didn’t think he could go to sleep again, as worried as he was about Elizabeth and the men and why she seemed upset.

The front door slammed shut. “Sounds like Darien.” Tom had planned to grab his clothes and retire to bed, but he dressed instead. “Sleep, Elizabeth. We’ll talk in the morning.” He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead.

He smiled, but the smile she returned wasn’t genuine, and her eyes swam with tears. Not knowing what else to say if she wouldn’t help him out, he said, “See you in the morning.”

He left and closed the door, wanting to kick himself for taking things too far with her. He hurried downstairs and met Darien in the living room. He had brought in Elizabeth’s bags and raised a brow at his younger brother in question.

“She’s gone to bed. I’ll take her bags up to her. They’ve been dusted, right?” Tom asked him.

“Yeah. I can’t figure it out. Why steal her stuff and then leave it there?”

“Maybe they weren’t trying to get away with her stuff. Maybe they hoped that by bringing her stuff to the abandoned hotel, they could lure her there.”

“And then what?” Darien asked. “It certainly wasn’t just to talk. Breaking the window was an act of violence against Elizabeth. They could have jimmied the window open or attempted to pick the lock on the front door. They smashed her window as if they were angry.”

“Because she took pictures of them?” Tom rubbed his whiskery chin. “They stole everything she had to learn who she was, but they don’t want anyone to learn who they are. Her ID and airline tickets were inside the case of her laptop, so without having time to search through her stuff at the B and B, they just took everything. Why else would they need to ID her if she isn’t some sort of mark?”

“Makes sense. But why leave her stuff and run when she showed up?” Darien asked. “Maybe they believed she’d come alone. That no one from our pack would watch over her. They probably didn’t want to get in a fight and just had to cut and run.”

“That’s what I figure. I’ll take her suitcases up to her and then go to bed,” Tom said.

“I’m calling it a night, too. Again.”

When Tom reached the guest room, he saw the light still on underneath the door. He rapped on it. “Elizabeth, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she said. “You can come in.”

He opened the door and walked inside, setting her bags on the floor. “Remember that Darien wants you to check them over tomorrow to see if anything is missing. Are you really all right?”

“Yeah, I’m okay. Have a good night’s sleep.”

He paused, feeling she wasn’t sincere. He figured he could learn more about whatever was bothering her tomorrow when they were both well rested.

At least, that’s what he planned.