Although a hint of pleading was evident in his tone of voice, his words were still more of a command.
She knew this was a very bad idea. But she always seemed to be helping others. Why not get something good out of the experience, even if it didn’t last? He was the kind of guy that wouldn’t stay in a long-term relationship, she would bet. One minute, he would be there for her, and the next, gone. Especially once he learned who he was and where he belonged. Probably had a good paying job, certainly a family, and a home somewhere. But heck, as long as she didn’t get stuck on the guy, what did it matter if they warmed each other for the rest of the morning?
As macho as he was, she expected him to join her, but maybe he was too honorable, waiting to make sure it was okay with her. She sighed and moved close to him. His cold feet left an icy imprint on the back of her legs where her pajamas had drawn up, and she swore under her breath. “Damn, Hunter, your feet are ice cold, and now I’ll never get warm.”
He chuckled low and pulled her into his heated embrace. And she did warm up, way too much, but he seemed honor-bound. Maybe because he was concerned he still had a wife or fiancée or special woman in his life. Too bad. She sure could get used to a guy like this. Once she’d returned home after college, pickings had been slim. Rourke, the reporter, wanted to renew old acquaintances, but he was the last one she’d want to be stuck with on a desert island. The sheriff’s son, one of Michael’s best friends, was another, but those were the only two single men she knew still living in town after finishing high school who were close to her age. Everyone was eons older, younger, or married. But, Hunter, although she wasn’t sure about his age, seemed perfect.
His warm breath teased the back of her head and his arms wrapped around her in a loving embrace. His erection stiffened against her back, and she sighed. Too bad he didn’t know who he was. If he wasn’t hooked up with anyone, they could have had a nice fling—not that she was into that sort of thing, but with someone as hot as him—why not? It was about time she let loose, had some fun, and did something for herself for a change.
Hunter kept Tessa still. He had never known a woman who tossed and turned so much in bed. At least, he didn’t remember anyone like that. What night terrors was she dealing with? After she had beat on him, the only way he was returning to bed with her was to hold her tight, give her solace, and keep her from kicking and hitting him any further.
At least the hunter wouldn’t be shooting any more for a while. Not until he purchased a new rifle and found another location to hunt in. If Hunter hadn’t needed to remain in hiding for the time being, he would have turned the bastard in for attempted murder. He hoped Tessa wouldn’t see the hole in her ski cap and question him about it.
How would he explain how he could run faster than a normal human being? He was just fortunate the second bullet had only grazed his upper arm. He’d even forgotten about it when he pulled the sweatshirt off, but thankfully, she didn’t see the wound the way he was turned slightly away from her toward the dark. With any luck, she wouldn’t see the bloody mess before it healed.
The man swore he thought Hunter was a black bear attacking him. As if Hunter looked anything like a bear. At least, the maniac’s rifle wouldn’t do him any good, even if it survived striking the rocks below and landing in the ocean. The only thing Hunter regretted was the fact he had littered.
He took a deep breath of Tessa’s scent, knowing he shouldn’t. When he shared one-night stands with lonely human females, that he recalled, he kept it strictly business, pleasuring them, and experiencing the joy it brought him. But he never attempted to memorize their scents, or make anything of the relationships, like two clouds passing each other in the night, barely touching, and then disappearing.
He was already too wrapped up in worrying about Tessa, her brother, and the gray lupus garou who had set his sights on her.
He brushed one of Tessa’s curls tickling his cheek away and grunted when the bullet wound sent a shard of pain through his arm.
Tessa stirred. “Are you hurting a lot?” She reached over and touched his arm and felt the moisture. “My god, Hunter. What…” She stared at the blood tingeing her fingertips in the lantern’s soft glow from the bathroom. “You’ve been shot.”
“It’s not anything,” he said, frowning. Leave it to a human female to make a big deal out of nothing.
“You’re bleeding.” Her face contorted with worry. She pulled out of his grasp, climbed out of bed, and rushed to the bathroom. After opening and shutting several drawers, she returned with gauze and tape. “Is the bullet embedded?”
Ah hell, he hadn’t wanted her to see the evidence, or worry her. “Just grazed the skin, really, Tessa. No big deal.”
“You need to charge him with attempted murder. He shouldn’t be allowed to get away with this. Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt? No, I’ll tell you. You’re too macho to let me know, damn it.”
He hid a grin. Her alpha posturing triggered his primal craving for her all over again.
She wiped away the blood, but it pooled up more. She clamped the gauze on it and the frown returned to her brow. “Hold this while I cut the tape. So what happened exactly?”
“I was gathering firewood. I guess he thought I was a new species of game bird.”
“He wasn’t supposed to be shooting in the middle of the night.” She finished taping the gauze to the wound. “Are you really all right? Have you had a recent tetanus shot?”
“Yes, to both.”
She stared at him for a second, her look concerned again, and touched his arm, a jolt of electricity heating his blood. “I can’t afford to lose you before you help me find Bethany’s killer.”
He raised a brow. “And here I thought you had a hankering for me.”
“Humpf.” She jerked Michael’s sweatshirt off the floor and waved it at Hunter, her face stern, but he could see she was half-teasing. “You’re only borrowing my brother’s clothes. I expected you’d give them back in the same shape you received them.”
“I’ll try to run faster next time.”
She shook her head. “I can’t imagine you running from anyone.”
She had that right.
She returned to the bathroom and rinsed the blood out in the sink, and then the shower curtain rings slid across the rod. A dripping sound in the bathtub followed that.
When she climbed back into bed, Hunter leaned down, kissed the top of her head, breathed in her heady sweet scent, and pulled her into his arms. And wished he could have her, that she was one of his kind, and she’d want him in return.
“I’ll try not to get any more of his things shot up. And when I’m able, I’ll buy him replacements. Sleep, Tessa. Or we’ll have to take a nap in the middle of the day to make up for not sleeping half the night.”
“You have to report this to the sheriff’s office.”
“The shooter said he would.”
She turned and stared at Hunter. “You talked to him?”
He tightened his hold on her, keeping her soft body pressed against his chest, her bottom seated provocatively against his arousal. “Don’t worry about it,” he said, his voice growing ragged with need. “It has nothing to do with you.”
“He shot you on my property so it has everything to do with me. What did he say? That he was going to report how he’d shot you?”
“More like that he was going to tell the sheriff how I destroyed his brand-new rifle.”
Her eyes grew even bigger, the blue specks highlighting the green gems. “What… what did he look like?”
“He said I stole Michael’s clothes. He had shoulder-length blond hair, stood a little shorter than me, talked big, but was shaking in his boots.”
“Ashton Wellington.”
“Who?”
“The sheriff’s son and Michael’s best friend. Great. His father can be a real pain in the butt when it comes to protecting his son.”
“I wouldn’t worry about it too much.” He wrapped a curl of hair around his finger and examined the color and texture. “After all, the guy shot me, not the other way around.”
“Yeah, but you destroyed his gun.” She frowned at Hunter. “How?”
“I tossed it in the ocean. Figured he’d wake you up, and he shouldn’t have been shooting that close to your house anyway.”
She groaned and hugged his arms wrapped around her chest, drawing him into her silky embrace, making his blood sizzle—siren.
“Expect the sheriff’s visit early in the morning,” she warned.
He nuzzled his face in her hair, smelled the fragrant peach scent, wanted to lick every inch of her skin to see if she tasted just as sweet. “What role do you want me to play?”
“Cousin from back east. You’re staying with me until we clear Michael of his crime.”
His hand stilled on her hair. “Gay cousin?”
She snorted. “Like anyone would believe that.”
He smiled and rubbed her arm with a slow, stroking caress. “Good. Not that I care much for being a cousin either, too easy to get caught up in a lie.”
“What then? My lover?”
He chuckled darkly. “Works for me.”
Chapter 4
EARLY THE NEXT MORNING BEFORE TESS A WOKE, HUNTER searched through her house for any reason a lupus garou would have specifically targeted her other than the fact her pheromones undoubtedly had something do with attracting him and soon found something he couldn’t comprehend. Wolf pictures filled three desk drawers in the guest bedroom. Since lupus garou wolves looked just like regular wolves, he couldn’t tell if they were real wild wolves, or his kind. Not unless he could smell them. Against a wall, shelves housed several books on wolf behavior also.
But why she’d have tons of photos and books on them, and why her scent attracted him to such an arousing degree—
A sepia photo half-hidden by the wolf pictures caught his attention, and he pulled it out. “Seth.”