“Thank you. I appreciate your hospitality. You’re too kind.” She couldn’t hold back a trace of sarcasm.
His eyes narrowed. “It wasn’t kindness that motivated me. I don’t relish leaving you to die in the mountains, and there’s nothing else to do with you. Just stay out of everyone’s way.”
She frowned. “Like poor Davinia? She’s been married to your brother for how long? A year? Two? More? And she’s still not treated like one of you.”
“It’s not your business.” His arm snaked out, and he grasped her wrist. “Speaking of other things that aren’t your business, you weren’t invited to the Pack’s meeting. Davinia’s a biddable girl, so I know where to place the blame for that. You keep to yourself while you’re here.”
Anger sizzled through her, and she batted her lashes up at him. “Why, Rica, I planned to become best friends with your wife. Maybe I’ll corrupt her as I’ve so obviously corrupted Davinia.”
To her surprise, he didn’t look angry. Instead, he seemed grimly amused. “I have no mate, woman, and if I did, she would be more than a match for you. I know your kind.”
“Really? Because it seems to me, you don’t know much about anything, except this little village and its way of life. Yes, you’re a…small man.” Her eyes widened at the rejoinder. What was she doing? It was her job to blend in with these people, to gain their confidence, so she could get an insider’s perspective on their lives. Alienating the leader wouldn’t help her accomplish that goal. She opened her mouth to apologize, but a gasp escaped her instead, as he jerked her into his arms.
“I know a great deal about many things.” He pressed his face closer to hers. “Probably more than you do,” he said with a growl.
She couldn’t help noticing how close his mouth was to hers. Her lips felt dry, and she moistened them with her tongue. Her gaze didn’t stray from his. Ellie meant to apologize, but couldn’t find the words. She couldn’t seem to gather her wits. Her thoughts were a confusing whirl, centering around one thing: How would it feel to have his lips on hers?
He began to sniff her, but still didn’t touch. Ellie held her breath, wondering about his actions.
I wonder if I smell good to him?
The thought was disorienting, but not so much as the one that followed.
He smells good to me, with his sharp, woodsy scent. He’s so male.
She cleared her throat. “Rica, I’m sorry—”
He cut off her apology with his lips, molding them to hers with firm pressure. His arms engulfed her, pulling her against the hardness of his body, the firmness of his cock. Ellie realized Rica most certainly wasn’t a small man as his hard cock swelled against the confines of his jeans.
She wrapped her arms around him, pressing her palms against the smooth skin of his back. She ran her hands down his back, pausing to trace the line of his spine to the waistband of his jeans. He deepened the kiss. When his tongue invaded her mouth, she opened under its assault. Her fingernails dug into his back, and her nipples beaded.
She groaned when her pussy spasmed. How long had it been since she had a man? Nine months. Nine long months. Her body craved Rica’s touch, even as her mind tried to caution her against the attraction. She couldn’t become involved with a subject. It might skew the results of her study completely.
Still, she couldn’t make herself break free from his arms. In fact, she snuggled closer, thrusting her hips so that her denim-covered pussy brushed against his thigh. She made a wordless sound of need, straining against him.
He pushed her away suddenly, and with so much force, she stumbled into the couch. Ellie’s eyes widened, and she pressed a hand to her chest, as if trying to hold in her racing heart. She looked at him uncertainly, wondering why he had broken the kiss so abruptly. She held out her other hand. “Rica?”
He stepped back to avoid her touch. “Get out. Stay out of my way while you’re here.”
She frowned. “Did I…” Ellie trailed off, realizing she was about to ask if she had done something wrong. She should be thanking him for ending things before they got out of hand. She should definitely apologize for her snide remark, accept his kiss as a deserved response, and leave as an adult. She shouldn’t be contemplating throwing herself into his arms and begging for his possession.
That thought brought a return of sanity, and she squared her shoulders. “I’m sorry for my thoughtless remarks. I don’t feel quite like myself tonight. It must be from the concussion.” Or the amazing kiss. She blocked that thought. “Regardless of your reasons, thank you for allowing me to stay. I’ll do my best to stay out of your way.”
He nodded, but didn’t speak. Ellie steadied herself and hurried to the door, not looking back until she turned the knob. She glanced at Rica, unable to resist noticing the way the light shimmered on his skin, or the loneliness of his pose. She swallowed down an unexpected lump of moisture and hurried out into the night, intending to honor her promise to avoid him. She had to, if she hoped to complete her study.
* * * * *
“Was he cruel?” Davinia asked as she helped Ellie make the beds the following morning. They hadn’t had a chance to speak last night, because Davinia and Viggo were in bed by the time she returned. Ellie had stayed up half the night, tossing and turning in the small bed, wishing Rica had taken care of the ache he had created between her thighs.
She tucked in the corner of the sheet, shaking her head. “No, not really. He told me to keep to myself and not expect a free ride.”
Davinia nodded. “The women here have so much work. It’s just silly they won’t put in electricity.”
“Why is that?” Ellie tried to sound casual as she kept her attention on smoothing the sheet.
“The Pack doesn’t like to rely on anyone for anything. That applies even to utility service. The rest of Corsova put in electricity in the ‘50s, but Rica’s grandfather refused to allow it in Necheau.” Davinia stood up straight, rubbing her lower back.
Ellie saw her grimace as she stood up to retrieve the quilt. “Are you all right?”
Davinia shrugged. “I suppose they are the typical pains of pregnancy.”
“Maybe you should see the doctor.” She unfolded the quilt across the bed as she spoke.
Davinia grasped the other side. “We have no doctor. Belia, that horrid woman who spoke out against Rica last night, is the midwife, but she won’t see me.”
Ellie paused in the action of tucking in the quilt. “What? Why not?”
“I’m not one of the Pack.”
She was concerned for her new friend. “Have you seen a doctor at all?”
Davinia shook her head. “It’s not our way. I would know if there’s a problem.”
“Hmm.” She wondered how many live births the women of Corsova had each year. “Is it the same with the people in the village where you lived before?”
“It’s the same with all our people.” Davinia laughed lightly. “Bulgainia isn’t a village. It’s the capitol of Corsova, and quite modern. I used to go shopping with my aunt. I could buy clothes right out of the store, rather than make them myself.” She looked sad. “That was before I married Viggo.”
“Are you happy?” Perhaps it was an impertinent question, but Ellie sensed her friend wasn’t.
Davinia sat on the bed. She was careful not to meet Ellie’s eyes. A sigh escaped her. “I love him, and I’m thrilled about the baby, but I wish things were different. If he weren’t the Beta of the Pack, we could have lived at the castle or in Bulgainia.”
Ellie sat on the other side of the bed, trying to commit to memory everything Davinia said. Part of her wished she didn’t have to be so analytical. She wanted to listen just for the sake of listening, not to learn something she might be able to use in her study. It was the same situation each time she integrated into a culture. Her conscience always warred with her academic side.
“Viggo wouldn’t have been happy there. I know that.”
Ellie touched her hand, moved by the pain in her voice. She ignored the twinge of her conscience that told her it was wrong to gain Davinia’s trust. “Would your people treat him as an outsider?”
“No, not at all. Everywhere else, our two groups have become almost a hybrid. It’s only here that the Pack—” She broke off, wiping her eyes. “Never mind. It’s not that interesting. They’re a close-minded group of people, and nothing will change them. I have Viggo, and soon Ylenia.” She patted her stomach before standing up. “There’s washing to do, if you don’t mind helping me?”
“Of course not.” Ellie followed her from the bedroom, wishing circumstances were different. When Davinia found out her purpose for being here, she would assume Ellie had used her for information. The other woman would never believe she had liked her, or that it was difficult to do her job and be her friend. She probably wouldn’t believe Ellie didn’t have any close friends and hadn’t since she graduated from college. They were transient, and the budding friendships always ended when her true purposes were revealed.
* * * * *
Later that afternoon, Ellie ventured outside. They had completed the chores, and Davinia was napping. Her friend hadn’t said anything about staying inside, and she had deliberately avoided asking. She knew what she would hear if she mentioned she planned to explore the village. Davinia would try to discourage her.
At least her friend wouldn’t get in trouble for her walk, since she was asleep and couldn’t have stopped her. Ellie strolled along the square, mostly cleared of snow, admiring the homes along the way. Although they were all the same basic design, each had unique touches to set it apart. Almost every door was a carved masterpiece, and she wondered who had done them. It might have been each owner of the houses, but the doors looked as if the same artist did them.
As she neared the well in the center of the square, she saw an old woman shuffling toward it, carrying a bucket. Swollen joints betrayed her arthritis, as did her slow pace, and the way her back curved, as if weighted by years of burdens.
Ellie hurried forward to the old woman, reaching her at the same time she reached the water pump. “Ma’am, may I help you?”
The woman turned her face in Ellie’s direction. Myriad wrinkles mapped her face, telling the story of her age in vivid detail. Her hair was whiter than the snow on the ground. Her nose twitched. “Who’s that? I don’t see too well these days.”
“My name’s Ellie. My plane crashed in the mountains.”
The woman nodded. “Ah, so you’re the one.” She didn’t sound unkind. “The outsider. I heard about you this morning from Lia.”
“Who’s Lia?” She took the bucket from the woman when she didn’t reject her offer. Ellie put her weight into the pump, finally getting it to go after two or three tries. She maintained a steady pumping rhythm as water poured into the bucket.
“A silly young thing. She’s convinced Rica will challenge for her at the next Mating Moon, now that she’s of age.”
“Oh.” Her heart lurched at the thought of Rica taking a mate. She forced a smile, even though the woman probably couldn’t see it. “Would you like me to carry this back to your home, ma’am?”
“Please.” She grasped her cane and began to shuffle back to her residence. “Call me Golatia.”
Ellie grasped the bucket, straining to hold it steady. She followed Golatia, glad for the older woman’s slow pace so she wouldn’t spill the water. “Have you lived here all your life?”
“Of course. Where else would I live?”
She smiled at the answer. “I don’t know. Maybe Bulgainia. Davinia said it’s a beautiful little city.”
“Bah, cities stink.” The woman drew in a deep breath, twitching her nose. “Smell the mountain air.”
She breathed in obligingly. “I smell pine from the trees.”
Golatia shook her head. “It’s a pity you can’t smell it all. Bless you for your limitations, young one.”
Ellie didn’t know how to respond to that, so she remained silent.
The old woman stopped in front of a small house. It was closest to the well. “Rica gave me this home when my strength faded.” Golatia growled low in her throat. “There were those like Belia, who said cast me out. It was the old way.” She snorted. “Sometimes, the old way is not the best way, you understand?”
Ellie nodded before remembering her sight problem. “Yes, ma’am.” She was surprised when the woman took her free hand and squeezed it.
“You ignore what they say when the time comes. Be strong and have faith in your man.”
She frowned. “I’m sorry. I don’t understand.”
Golatia’s laugh was a honest-to-goodness cackle. “You will, young one. Now, give me that bucket, and make sure you come visit me soon. Bring Viggo’s wife. The poor dear doesn’t need to be sitting at home by herself all the time.”
“I could carry the water in for you, ma’am.”
“Golatia,” she corrected. “Ma’am makes me feel every one of my ninety years.” She took the bucket, holding it with surprising strength. “Never you mind. I’m strong enough for the bucket yet. Don’t forget to come see me.”
“I won’t.” Ellie couldn’t resist grasping the woman’s hand and squeezing it in the same way Golatia had squeezed hers. It didn’t matter if the woman was strange and possibly a little off. She had shown Ellie the first kindness from anyone other than Davinia since her arrival. “Good day.” She watched until the woman made her way inside before turning away. Pleasant warmth flowed through her, and she felt optimistic about winning over the Pack for the first time since the meeting. Maybe they weren’t all bad.