A SEAL in Wolf’s Clothing (4 page)

Finn knew there’d be trouble, as defiant as she always was with him, as soon as she stubbornly lifted her chin. “
I
don’t expect this of you! I’ve got two weeks to find a mate.”

“Think of it as a vacation. Two weeks away from Hunter’s rule, just taking it easy.”

“So I can be under
your
rule? No way. I’m not
taking
it
easy
while Hunter’s out of my hair. I’ve got the resort to run, and that’s just what I’m going to damn well do. Once the meal is done, I’ll take it to Joe and eat with him over there. You can…” She motioned to the front of the house. “…go back to wherever you came from.”

“All right.” His face turned hard as he gave up trying to reason with her. “Then I’m coming with you. I’ll eat Joe’s portion of the dinner, and you can share your portion with him.” He gave her a derisive smile. “Take it or leave it. If you don’t want my offer of protection, I’m packing you off to Hawaii, and I’ll wait here for the assassin alone. I’m sure it would be a safer bet for you anyway.”

She ground her teeth. “If you think I’m going to mess up their honeymoon… well, no way. Besides, what if whoever this is follows them there?”

“That’s a distinct possibility. And the reason I sent your pack mate to Hawaii to watch out for Hunter. As for you, I could send you to your uncle in Florida.” Finn was serious, too. Although he’d accompany her there if she decided she wanted to go to the Sunshine State.

“Ha! You’re not sending me anywhere. And I’m going to do what I had planned on doing while Hunter is away. You can’t tell me what to do!”

Hell. He sighed. “What if one of the men you’ve leased the cabins to is the assassin?”

She chewed on her bottom lip. “Okay, so we investigate each of them before they get here. You’re the expert at that, aren’t you? You must have a way to access personal records, and then once everyone looks all right, that’s the end of it. Once we’ve eliminated them as suspects, I’ll go about my business.”

Considering they were
lupus
garous
and records were changed over the years to hide their longevity, that would be the problem. Finn had known as soon as he learned Hunter was gone that this was one mission he shouldn’t have signed up for. “Even this Joe Matheson could be one of them.”

Her eyes widened and she looked in the direction of the blue cabin. “No.”

“You don’t really know a thing about him, Meara.”

Pop! Pop!

“
Shit!
” Fearing gunfire, Finn lunged for Meara, shoving her to the carpeted floor as his body slammed into hers and losing his towel in the process.

Finn was planted firmly on top of Meara on her carpeted bedroom floor, listening for any sound that could mean danger as her heart and his beat at an accelerated pace, although she was barely breathing. He could tell by the expression on her face as she watched him that she also was listening for any sounds of an intruder.

Finn’s towel was now draped across her pelvis, and he was naked again. But she was fully dressed, so no big deal. Except no matter how hard he tried not to think about the way their heated bodies were pressed together, he couldn’t help becoming aroused.

“Gunfire?” she whispered, keeping very still.

“Might have been. Or not. Could have been a car backfiring.”

“Way out here?”

“Maybe one of your other guests arrived.”

Meara squirmed underneath Finn, and he fought groaning out loud as she pressed dangerously against his rapidly growing erection. “Well, let me up then. If you’re not going to check it out, I will.”

He knew Meara was headstrong. If he hadn’t been worrying about her safety or what she might do that could put her at more risk, Finn would have already left the house and searched the area. He was rethinking the situation about either of them staying at her place, though. Looked like the money he’d paid and strings he’d pulled to move the renters out of his home farther south had been a good bet. He’d never thought he’d be taking Hunter’s sister there
alone
to safeguard, rather that he might be moving both Hunter and Meara in.

“Well?” She wriggled some more. “We’re not going to continue to lie here and do nothing, are we? I believe in being proactive.”

“Quit moving, Meara,” he ordered tightly. Hell, the woman was hot, particularly pinned beneath his body, and her squirming around was making him even hotter than he already was.

Her eyes widened as she undoubtedly felt his rigid arousal. “How could you be thinking about stuff like that at a time like this?”

“I’m not thinking of anything of the sort. Just quit wiggling.” At least he tried not to think of her wriggling beneath him and how hard it was making him. He grabbed the towel and got to his feet. “Haven’t you ever heard of friction? That’s all it is. Nothing more.”

Friction, his ass.
From the moment he’d seen her, remembering just how hot the woman was, and how she seemed so interested in the way he looked, had made him hard. But he hadn’t meant for her to know how little control he had over his physical reaction to her.

She snorted. “I know a man doesn’t need much encouragement, but give me a break.”

He managed to control a smile. When he tossed the towel aside to shift, aware he was fully erect and that Meara was staring at him in… well, he wasn’t sure about her reaction. Amusement? Wonderment? Maybe a little of both. And it wasn’t helping.

Not liking that he seemed to have so little control over his libido when he was around her, he growled, intending to go look for the assassin, and summoned the urge to shift.

Once Finn had shifted into his wolf form, he cast a long, hard look at Meara, as if he was trying to tell her to stay put. He was a beautiful, big gray wolf with a tan face framed by fur in a mixture of browns and black, giving him a distinguished appearance.

Exasperated, Meara waved her hand toward the wolf door. “Go. Protect me, oh hero of mine.” She couldn’t help it if her words sounded faintly sarcastic. She’d never gotten herself into a bind she couldn’t get herself out of, given enough time. And she didn’t feel this would be an exception.

Finn hesitated and even looked a little surprised.

She smiled, liking that he seemed a bit unsure for the first time since she’d met him six years earlier. Not that she had seen much of him since Hunter and the rest of the team had left the Navy. Most of the time, Finn would come to the door, usher Hunter outside for a super-secretive conversation, and then vanish without a word. Hunter would make arrangements with his sub-leaders, leaving shortly after that with duffel bag in hand.

Sure, she’d seen all of them together when they were still members of the SEAL team, but they were mostly part of the background. The guys aimed a few sly smiles in her direction, but none of them ever spoke to her except to greet her by name. They had remained subdued, standoffish, and secretive.

So she really didn’t know Finn well, except that she’d had words with him on more than one occasion when the team returned from a mission. She was angry that he was always getting Hunter involved in something that could prove fatal. They had left the Navy once their commitments were up. Enough was enough. Hunter had done his duty for God and country.

Finn would listen patiently to her tirade and cast Hunter surreptitious looks as though commiserating with him for having a sister who couldn’t leave well enough alone—and that had irritated her to no end.

Then Finn would depart and, several months later, turn up for another secretive mission, and they’d do what they intended without paying her any mind…
again
. She hoped that Hunter would give up the clandestine operations all together, now that he was mated.

But God, Finn had a body that wouldn’t quit. If there was a werewolf calendar, he could be featured on every month—and women would be even more apt to buy it if he was featured for an additional couple of months the following year. A natural Scandinavian blond with hazel-green eyes, he was a real looker.

She thought of him without the towel, the way he had been drying his hair so
innocently
, acting as though he’d forgotten to cover himself in front of her. He’d only done that to pretend he’d been her lover the night before. And she had been determined to pretend right back that his nakedness had no effect on her, not wanting him to think he’d not only shocked but intrigued her. No matter how much she told herself she shouldn’t, she couldn’t quit giving his physique a few gaping looks. Even though she’d tried damn hard to refocus her gaze on his. But the way that his mouth curved up and his wickedly darkened eyes smiled back at her meant he knew the truth. She couldn’t get her fill of him.

“Go. I mean it. I’ll stay here,” she said to Finn, nearly forgetting what he should be doing.

Seemingly reassured that she’d stay put, Finn loped out of the bedroom, and she went for her rifle.

***

As soon as Finn made certain the house was clear and no one was lurking inside, he used his nose to push through the wolf’s door to check the perimeter of the house and its surroundings. Outside, he smelled Joe’s scent coming from the direction of the blue cabin. Finn raced through the woods to the first of the cabins, circling around the outside, but he didn’t see or hear any signs of life. Where was Joe?

As he made a broader search, Finn smelled that a male werewolf had been in the vicinity, but he saw no sign of the unknown wolf. He continued to search around each of the empty cabins but found nothing. The faint smell of gunfire rippled through the breeze, though. He hadn’t been wrong about that.

Gnashing his canines in frustration, Finn didn’t like that he had no leads, but not wanting to leave Meara alone and unprotected, he headed back to her cabin. He inspected the outside walls, looking for signs of a bullet hole in the windows or siding.
Nothing.

He raced around to the back of the house and shoved his nose through the wolf door in the kitchen, praying she was still safe and secure, and came face to face with an armed Meara, who was aiming the same rifle that Joe had held on him earlier.

Relieved, he smiled, glad she’d had the sense to protect herself in case someone had tried to break into her place while he was away.

She lowered the muzzle of the rifle and frowned at Finn. “You didn’t find anything.” She sounded disappointed.

He shifted into his human form. Trying not to notice that she was staring at his nakedness again, he motioned to the rifle in her hands. “Do you even know how to use that thing?”

Her gaze shot up from eyeing his torso, and she snorted, raising the rifle parallel to her body. “You mean this?” She laid the rifle on the kitchen counter. “I’m just as accurate at shooting as you or any of the rest of your SEAL team. I’m surprised Hunter didn’t tell you I’m an expert marksman at a range.” She grabbed a pot holder shaped like a large red-hot chili pepper off the counter and handed it to Finn. “Cover yourself, will you?”

He gave her a small smile. He knew Meara was more than a little physically attracted to him. At least if the way her feminine pheromones were kicking his into high gear was any indication. As wolves, they sensed the pheromones in each other. If they’d been only human, the pheromones would still have played a role, but only subconsciously as the released pheromones sent signals to the hypothalamus region of the brain.

Her physical reaction to him—her increased heart rate, darkened eyes, and erect nipples poking at the silky fabric of her blouse—showed just how much her sexual response had heightened. But her female pheromones were also triggering his testosterone to surge, which meant he was getting damned horny around her again.

Otherwise, nudity between wolves shouldn’t have mattered. Although he had to remind himself that playing with fire wasn’t something he wanted to do.

He tossed the pot holder on the bar counter. “It’s not big enough to do the job.”

She laughed. But it was more of a haughty, give-me-a-break laugh than one of fun.

He chuckled under his breath as he strode down the hall to her bedroom. Her footfalls padded after him.

“So? Did you find any signs of a shooter?” she asked, sounding worried.

He glanced back at her and found her gaze riveted on his ass. Her eyes immediately rose to meet his, and to his amusement, her cheeks flushed crimson.

“We’re leaving.” He entered the bedroom, then grabbed his bag and dug around in it. He pulled out a different set of clothes—black denim, black T-shirt, and black boots, all more suited to the job he now had to do. But it was the pair of white boxers that caught her attention. They were strictly utilitarian so he wondered why she was so fixed on them. He quickly began to get dressed.

His words must have finally sunk in, because she shifted her gaze to his face and said, “What?” She sounded incredulous, which he figured was why she hadn’t responded in the negative yet.

But he knew that was coming. “Tell your sub-leaders you’re taking a trip. You can’t tell them where you’re going or how long you’ll be gone.”

She pursed her lips, eyeing him with irritation. “You listen here. I’m not going anywhere. I’ve leased the cabins, and it’s my job to see to the guests’ comforts.”

He yanked on his shirt. This was nonnegotiable. Meara was not going to be “seeing to the guests’ comforts.”

Before he could say so, she said, “I’m staying here. You have no right ordering me about. If some assassin is after the members of the team, he’ll be targeting you, not me. So
you
need to get as far away from
me
as possible.” She quickly folded her arms underneath her breasts. Her face turned a hot red and her lips thinned as she scowled at him.

“Hunter is the only one of us who has family. You don’t think they won’t also target you?” He was trying for negotiator calm—an attempt to settle the crisis in a nonthreatening way. But her defensive posture said she wasn’t falling for that, and although he tried his best to cover it up, his irritation was showing. “None of the rest of us has to worry about the assassin coming after our loved ones,” he tried again, sitting on the bed to pull on his boots.

He would attempt to convince her in a reasonable way, but if he had to take unreasonable methods to protect her—like locking her away somewhere safe—he wouldn’t hesitate. “Hunter won’t want your life jeopardized while he’s away. And you don’t want to be a weapon used to draw him back home. So you and I are going to disappear for a while.”

“My guests—”

“Can stay here
without
you comforting them.” Without further delaying the inevitable, he pulled out his cell phone. “I’ll take care of it.”

“No. You won’t.” Meara stomped out of the bedroom.

With fascination, he watched her butt jiggle as she hurried down the hallway. He had to move her quickly. And he was damned glad he was able to call in a favor if he’d needed it. Right now, he needed it.

He had laced his hiking boots and was repacking his duffel bag when he heard her speaking. “Hello, Chris? I’ve got to leave, and I need someone from the pack to check in my guests at the cabin resort.”

Good, she was agreeing to Finn’s terms—for now.

A significant pause followed, and she said irritably over the phone, “
No
. I don’t know where I’m going.” Another pause. “Listen, Finn’s a Navy SEAL, as well you know. Undoubtedly, he knows what he’s doing.”

She must have considered that Finn was listening to her from down the hall when she added, “At least Hunter will believe so.” Again silence. “No, of course I can’t get through to Hunter yet to okay it. It’s a done deal. Just have someone cover the cabin rentals until I can return.”

She didn’t say anything more so Finn assumed she’d finally convinced Chris that it was all right for her to go with Finn. He was sure Chris didn’t like the friendship he and the other SEALs shared with Hunter, since they weren’t part of the pack. But he had a sneaking suspicion there was more going on here than just a sub-leader’s nose being out of joint because someone outside the pack was making decisions that affected the pack leader’s sister. Chris had designs on Meara, whether she was aware of that or not, and her being alone with Finn was raising Chris’s hackles.

Finn heard the oven door open and assumed Meara was either removing the chicken or checking on it, but it couldn’t have cooked long enough. She let out an exasperated sigh and turned her ire on Finn as he joined her in the kitchen. She still had the phone to her ear. Finn was right about the food, though. The chicken was only partially cooked—still pink and inedible.

“We can take it with us or finish baking it, then go,” he offered, in an attempt to appease her somewhat. But at this point, Joe Matheson wasn’t eating a bite of it.

She gave him an annoyed look, closed the oven door, and said over the phone, “Chris, I’m doing this. I’ll be perfectly safe in Finn’s hands.”

Finn couldn’t stop the sinful way he was thinking about that remark or the calculated smile he cast her.

She shook her head at Finn and said to Chris, “Just have one of the guys stay at my place to manage the resort. I’d appreciate it. Bye.”

She ended the connection and scowled at Finn. “All right?”

He smiled. He couldn’t help himself. When she was riled, Meara was even more striking, her color high and becoming.

“I’ll get the ice chest and whatever else we might need.” He headed for the garage.

“Don’t tell me you know where my ice chest is.”

“In the garage. When I searched the place earlier, it was hard to miss.”

“Anything else you felt you needed to explore?”

He glanced over his shoulder at her, and he couldn’t contain the slow, lazy smile curving his lips. “Ask me later, and I’d be happy to answer your question. Maybe even demonstrate.”

***

Rourke Thornburg loved reporting the news when there was something interesting to report. In the news business, no news was
not
good news. But being a recently turned werewolf with Hunter Greymere’s pack had its drawbacks. The pack wouldn’t let him dig too deeply into a situation that could be considered newsworthy because they didn’t want him getting that kind of attention. What if he shifted unexpectedly in the middle of a news story and
he
became the biggest news around?

He could see the headlines now:
Werewolf
found
on
the
Oregon
coast! Will Bigfoot be located next?

Some pack member was always following him around. That wouldn’t have been so bad if the pack member had been a woman, but since there were fewer of them in Hunter’s pack and most were mated, he was stuck nearly always being escorted by a male wolf.

Today, Chris Tarleton was sitting across the desk from him at the newspaper office, reading yesterday’s paper and shaking his head. Chris was tall and strawberry blond, and Rourke had been told he was a red wolf, rather than a gray. In the wolf world, that meant he would be a smaller wolf. But in the werewolf world, the guy was just as lanky in wolf form as he was in human form. He was quiet most of the time. He preferred the quiet. Didn’t care to chitchat. But he also didn’t seem to care much for Rourke. Not for his occupation as a dealer in news nor as a newly turned werewolf who had to watch his step.

Rourke had been glad when Chris left to take care of business for a couple of days. He was hoping that the sub-leader would be gone a lot longer, leaving someone else to watch over Rourke, but fat chance of that. Late last night, Chris had come back again.

Chris’s phone rang, startling him out of his reading. He set the paper aside, then answered his phone. “Meara,” he said, sounding more than surprised. “Hell, no.”