And then she remembered the way she’d plowed her fist into James’s solid body before running like a rabbit. Her cheeks flamed. That had been dumb, just plain dumb, a reaction worthy of a school playground kiss. She could have just said
no thanks
, could have backed off, could have not kissed the man back in the first place—but she’d have to be made out of stone not to respond to James Macleod. Okay, maybe she could have kissed him and then said something supremely mature and dignified that would—what? Let him down easy? Discourage him? Was that what she really wanted?
Leaning her head on her hands, Jillian closed her eyes wearily.
Okay, I admit it, I’m attracted to him. But who wouldn’t be?
She supposed she should probably apologize for hitting him. But having James pissed off at her was good insurance against a repeat of that kiss, and right now she wanted some insurance like that. Deep down, she was just a little afraid of being kissed like that again. Who knew what might happen? Something, anything. Everything
.
She furrowed her brow and deliberately recalled the events that preceded the kiss. Like his lecture. And the way he’d arrogantly pushed her aside and taken over restraining the dog. Jillian tried so hard to find her edge, drum up some anger so she could ruthlessly douse the little fires his kiss had kindled. Couldn’t do it. The truth was, James hadn’t been arrogant, hadn’t been showing off or trying to take over anything. He’d been trying to keep her from being badly mauled.
Oh, crap.
As much as she hated to admit it, he’d been right, totally, absolutely right. She’d been too tired to see just how risky and
stupid
—he’d certainly picked the right word there—she’d been to even think of touching that monstrous dog without extra help. Her instructors back east would be the first to give her an earful about “risk management.” Connor would have been within his rights to fire her for endangering herself like that. His employee insurance rates would have skyrocketed if anything had gone wrong. And the dog could well have injured not only her, but the other women in the room too.
Now I’ll probably have to
thank
James or something.
She sighed then.
Right after I apologize to him.
She’d been rude. Snarky, bitchy rude. Sure, she was tired, she was hungry, she had a killer headache, she had all sorts of leftover adrenaline in her system, but those things weren’t James’s fault. The fact that he reminded her powerfully, simply by existing, that she hadn’t had sex in a long, long time—okay, she could blame him for that one. But the rest, no.
However, in order to thank him or apologize or anything, she’d have to see him again. And how was she ever going to look him in the face after that killer kiss? Especially when something inside her went liquid at the thought of being wrapped in those powerful arms, held tight against that hot, hot body.
She jumped as a steaming platter of fish and chips appeared in front of her. “Thanks,” she managed. Bill winked broadly and hurried back to the counter where a man was waiting to pay for gas. At once she recognized the dark red hair curling out from under the hat. Douglas Harrison. He was looking right at her, but for a split second, she thought he was going to walk out without acknowledging her. Then he seemed to think better of it and approached her table.
“Evening, Dr. Descharme.”
“Jillian. How’s the mare doing?”
“The foot’s real good. The heat’s out of it now, and she’s not favoring it much. You did a good job with her.”
“Thanks. I’m glad we could do something for her. She’s got a great temperament.”
“Yeah, she does, but Dad sure as hell doesn’t these days. I wanted to apologize for his behavior.”
“That’s not your fault—or his. I didn’t take any offense from it. Please don’t apologize.”
Douglas seemed to relax somewhat then. “He’s not like that all the time, really. It’s the damn Alzheimer’s. He just gets these spells and goes off the deep end, doesn’t recognize people.”
“Or sees things that aren’t there?” she ventured. “It must be very hard on you, on all of your family.”
He nodded. “Some days are harder than others. Fortunately he still has some good days too, and that helps. Anyways, I don’t want to interrupt your meal there.”
“That’s okay, I was just waiting for it to cool off a little.” She had an idea. “Your dad mentioned werewolves, but he also said something about a white wolf with blue eyes. Do you know if he ever saw a real wolf or maybe a wolf-dog cross around here that matched that description? Something that might have given him the werewolf idea?”
Some people’s skin turned pale when under stress. Others colored. Douglas turned a bright rose right to the roots of his auburn hair and looked so uncomfortable that Jillian was almost sorry she’d asked the question.
“Dad’s lived here longer than either of us has been alive, built his cattle ranch in the early 20s by clearing away raw forest. I imagine he saw plenty of wolves in every color back then. Not now though. There’s no wolves around the place now.”
“You keep saying that but—”
“I’ve got to go. Thanks again for your work on our mare.” He quickly walked out of the store.
Jillian watched him through the window, saw him get into a pickup and take off with a surprising squeal of tires. Nervous, she thought. The wolf thing made him nervous, as if he was scared of something. Why would that be?
And why are all the attractive men I meet so weird?
She was glad to find her food still hot and settled into eating, determined not to think about Douglas or James or any other members of the male species for the rest of the night.
Restless and edgy, James paced the parameters of Connor’s farm. What he really wanted to do was Change and race through the sprawling fields and forest that comprised his brother’s land. But he didn’t trust the wolf, and so he was trying to work off his frustrations the slow way—as a human being on foot. He’d walked all the way here from the clinic. And now he’d walked most of the fence lines. So far, however, all the walking seemed to be simply aggravating him more.
He was sick to death of being human. His head was crammed with too much information, conflicting thoughts and multiple considerations, all underpinned with complex emotion. And over all, a new awareness of Jillian he’d rather not have.
Damn, the woman can kiss.
He sighed, swore. It had to be lust. Attraction, then lust. Hell, he hadn’t had a woman in years.
Decades
to be correct, although he still struggled to accept the amount of time that had passed. It was perfectly normal to act on the attraction he felt for Jillian. But he had no right to what was normal, no right to encourage things between them.
Encourage, hell.
Although James had been out of the picture for thirty years, he was relatively certain that grabbing a woman he’d technically just met and kissing her senseless still wasn’t the norm. Even more disconcerting was how much he wanted to do it again. And again. One of the most important lessons learned by every young Changeling was control. Discipline. Restraint. He’d never had a problem with it before, not in all his long life. Until now.
Now, both wolf and human nature appeared obsessed with Jillian Descharme. He was supposed to be protecting her, not seducing her. Obviously he’d lost not just his control but his mind somewhere along the line.
He shouldn’t have kissed her, shouldn’t have gone anywhere near her—what had he been thinking? James snorted. Thinking with his hormones most likely. It only made sense that a return to human form would bring human desires with it. Except his desires were for something more than sex, and that both confused and infuriated him. It was the wolf’s fault, plainly. His wolf nature had introduced the notion of a relationship with Jillian, and now his human side seemed to be entertaining the idea.
Not that Jillian was encouraging things, however. She seemed to be pissed off at James every time he saw her. Of course, maybe he hadn’t exactly caught her at her best. He tried to look at it from her point of view. He’d broken into her apartment in the night. Grabbed her in the loft. Run over her in the hallway. Small wonder she wasn’t glad to see him when he tried to do something proactive like keep her from being eaten alive by a giant dog. But it still surprised him that she saw it as interfering. Maybe she liked to fight her own battles.
James considered that. She definitely had a warrior spirit. He’d glimpsed it that night in her apartment and admired it. There had been no screaming, no pleading, no fear at all in her—at least, no fear that she’d revealed. When she’d failed to deck James, she’d gone for a knife to gut him. Strange how that just increased her appeal.
A warrior spirit.
She’d defied him in the loft when she had no hope of escaping, when she thought he meant her harm.
More than a warrior.
Because instead of fleeing when she had the chance, she’d paused and actually expressed concern for him. It stunned him, then and now. He’d knocked her flying in the hallway, and she hadn’t complained, but again, there was concern for him in those sea green eyes. It had nearly undone him. James wiped a hand over his face, found himself sweating as he remembered helping her up, remembered those aching seconds when he couldn’t make himself let go of her. When he very nearly kissed her.
Which made the kiss after the Cujo incident a whole lot less surprising. And the possibility of kissing Jillian Descharme again much more likely. How was he ever going to get out of her life and back to his own four-footed one? All he knew for sure was that the longer he stayed in human form, the more complicated his life seemed to get.
And what he was about to do would complicate it even further.
Chapter Sixteen
T
he doorbell rang, startling Connor into dropping the spoon into the soup he was stirring on the stove. He hadn’t heard a car come in the lane and none of the dogs had barked. Only a Changeling could get to his home unannounced, and Zoey was in the city until tomorrow. Anyone else would have given him some mental warning. The heavy front door was wide open, letting the breeze come through the screen door. Whoever was there could easily have spoken to him, called out a greeting, even stuck their head inside. Something. Connor approached the doorway cautiously, silently, and looked out.
A man stood on the covered porch, looking out over the yard. The twilight silhouetted him, revealing only his shape and not his features, but it was enough. The powerful form definitely belonged to a Macleod. He was tall, like all of the Macleod brothers, broad of shoulder and heavily muscled. Only one of them, however, had the white-blond hair, visible even in the fading light, that tumbled almost to this man’s collar and matched the pale close-cropped beard that followed his jaw.
James.
The man whirled. He recognized his brother and relaxed. A little.
Connor opened the door carefully, half-wondering if he was seeing things and half-afraid of scaring James off. Took a couple of steps outside. “You selling Girl Scout cookies or magazine subscriptions? What the hell are you doing ringing the doorbell like some stranger?” He searched his brother’s face. The strong features, the intense eyes, were tempered with both knowledge and sorrow, but it was the face Connor had carried in his heart all these years. “God, James. I—” He couldn’t finish for the emotions that squeezed his heart. He closed the distance between them and seized his brother in a rough embrace.
I never thought I’d see you again, not like this.
They held each other for a long moment then stood apart. Connor kept a hand on James’s shoulder, feeling a little foolish yet unable to let go. “I’m glad you came.”
James shook his head. “I’m . . . I’m not really sure what I’m doing here.”
His brother’s voice seemed a little deeper, a little rougher, but it was the voice Connor knew. He had to swallow hard, twice, before he could respond. “Doesn’t matter. You can take your time, sort it out as you go along.”
James waved an arm at the yard to change the subject. “Place looks good. Lots of potential.”
“Place looks like hell.” Connor snorted. “And as for potential, I’ve had it for over ten years now, and it’s almost as run-down as when I took it over. I just don’t get much time to work on it. A few years ago I hired people to come in and renovate the house, but it’s a lot tougher to find someone to renovate a farm. Maybe you can give me some advice over supper.” He held the door open. “Zoey’s not here so I’m heating up some soup, got a couple loaves of Bill’s cheese bread to go with it. You coming in to eat, or are you going to stand out here on the porch all night?”
“Guess I could help you with that soup.”
The soup was stuck to the bottom of the pot but luckily hadn’t burned yet. While they ate, Connor kept looking across the table. His brother James was actually sitting in his kitchen. It seemed normal and surreal at the same time. Connor made small talk about the farm, about the week he’d just spent up north with a mobile clinic, but towards the end of the meal, he just had to ask, “What made you come here in human skin?”
James was caught off guard by the question, seemed almost embarrassed. “I just thought about what you said, that’s all. Made sense to give it a try.”
“And?” Connor said expectantly.
“There’s no ‘and.’”
Connor rolled his eyes. “Don’t bullshit me. I just phoned Birkie a while ago to get my messages. She said that
my brother
showed up today and assisted Jillian with a patient. Maybe you could elaborate?”
“Jillian was going to get hurt. They all were. I didn’t get a chance to think about it. I was sound asleep in the damn loft and suddenly there was this overwhelming sense of danger. It was like being jolted awake with a cattle prod. I was down the ladder and in the room before I was even fully awake.”
“Birkie mentioned it was a pretty dangerous situation. She was trying to figure out a way to use some of her mojo on the dog when you came in. Said she was damn glad to see you.”
James shook his head. “Jillian was already in harm’s way with nothing but a leather muzzle between her and—hey, you’re not going to give her grief about this, are you?” The last words came out almost as a snarl.
Connor was surprised to see a glimpse of the white wolf in the blatant warning that flashed across his brother’s face, but he wasn’t intimidated. “Damn right I will. She’s a good vet, going to be a great one, but she doesn’t have years of experience under her belt yet. I’m her boss and the senior vet, and that gives me the right to chew her out when necessary.”
James got up without a word and went back out to the porch. Connor followed.
“So, that’s quite a protective streak you’ve got going on there, bro.”
“I know it.”
“You’re in human form because of Jillian.” He made it a statement.
James leaned against a post. “Yeah. Wish I could give you a more noble reason, like I want to return to being a productive member of society, but that’s not why I Changed. I won’t lie about that.” He turned and faced his brother. “The truth is, being human is the only thing I can think of to do, the only way to protect her. I can’t control the wolf, so I can’t be the wolf.”
“For how long?”
“I don’t know. As long as it takes, I guess, whatever it takes to make sure she’s safe.”
Connor thought James was mistaken about not having a noble reason. He could hear the determination in his brother’s voice, see the absolute commitment to this path in his face. And just how uncomfortable this path was for him. Still, there were a lot of loose ends to this new plan. “And when you’re certain she’s safe, what then? You’ll just go back to being a full-time wolf? Run on four legs for another thirty years?”
James swore in exasperation. “For Christ’s sake, I’ve already gotten an earful from Birkie on the subject.” He left the porch, stalked across the yard to the nearest corral. Rested his arms on the top rail and watched the horses within.
Connor watched the horses too, his horses, as their heads came up and they looked with curious eyes at the blond stranger leaning on the fence. He chuckled as they all trotted over to his brother. “I’ll be damned,” he said to himself. “Animals still act like puppies around you. You haven’t lost your touch, bro.” He watched the horses bumping each other, all trying to nuzzle James at the same time. Even the cranky old pinto, which didn’t like people at all as a general rule, made an exception for him and was eagerly nosing in for a pat. “Small wonder you were able to deal with Ruby’s monster dog.” Again he wondered if James ever missed the land and the livestock he was so talented with.
Connor wanted nothing more than to leave things alone, take this time with his brother and just enjoy being with him. But there were things his brother needed to hear, and putting them off wouldn’t make it easier. Even to say them was to risk alienating him.
Good Christ. Why do I get to be the one to do this?
His shoulders felt heavy as he crossed the yard to stand beside James, who waved a hand at the horses and sent them to the other side of the corral.
“Leave it alone, Connor.”
“You have to listen.”
“I don’t have to listen to a goddamn thing. Leave it be.”
“It’s way too late, you know.”
“Too late for you to shut the hell up?”
“Too late to just go back to being a wolf. You’re so damn used to being an animal that you’ve forgotten the complex emotional world of human relationships.
Think
, for God’s sake. You’re on two legs, but you’re still acting like a wolf, focused solely on one thing and that’s Jillian. I agree that you need to look out for her, but there’s a whole lot more you need to consider, other people you need to think about here.”
“I haven’t thought about anything yet.” James faced his brother with both fury and frustration in his blue eyes. “I’ve been human for two damn days, and I’ve already had enough. You don’t know what it’s like. You don’t know what the hell you’re asking. I feel like my skin’s missing and all the nerves are exposed. I just want to Change and—”
“Run away? That’s been your answer to everything, hasn’t it?” A fist lashed out in response, but Connor had expected it and spun neatly out of reach. Just barely. James had always been fast. “You can’t run forever.”
The follow-up blow connected solidly and split Connor’s lip. With a growl that was more animal than human, he ducked his head and charged James. They grappled like boxers, like bears. Connor got a hand free and hammered his brother’s ribs. James hooked a right into Connor’s chin and followed it with an uppercut, staggering him. Before Connor could regain his balance, James tackled him, taking them both between the fence rails and into the corral. There they rolled together in the dirt, wrestling, punching, swearing. Connor was strong, but he’d never had his brother’s skill as a fighter. In moments, James had straddled Connor and punched him solidly twice more. But just as James was drawing his fist back for a third time, a flash of light and a sudden explosion of electricity knocked him flying backward.
He came to about a dozen feet away, lying flat on his back in the dirt. A crackle of sparks still played in the air around him. James shook his head and blinked, hard, to clear his vision. And saw a very large wolf sitting beside him, watching him. The grinning animal was silver with a blanket of black over his shoulders—and James knew there was only one Changeling with that rare saddleback pattern. “No fair Changing in the middle of a fight, you cheating bastard.” He said it without heat, however. Whatever anger he’d had before had been effectively blown away. Changing in close proximity to anyone wasn’t recommended. It took energy to become the wolf, and an experienced Changeling automatically drew it not only from his own reserves but also from the earth, the air. The static build-up was immense. James remembered when he’d first learned that.
“Seems to me you pulled that little stunt when we were kids too.” He’d been sitting on Connor then as well, and punching him in the face—God, were they ten? Twelve?—and Connor had Changed. The blast of static had thrown James a good twenty feet in a flurry of blue sparks.
Still seems to be the only way I can beat you. You didn’t fly so far this time, though. Must have gained a few pounds.
“Get your smart ass over here and help me up, why don’t you?” James struggled to his knees and just stayed there for a few moments. He was winded and a headache was starting to pound in the back of his head. At least he was still breathing. If he’d been human instead of Changeling, his heart might have stopped and he wouldn’t be breathing at all.
A large hand appeared in his field of vision. James gripped it and let Connor pull him to his feet. “What the hell were we arguing about again?” He made his way to a fence post and gripped it hard to steady himself.
“I was telling you to quit running away.”
“And I was telling you to back off, goddammit. I need a chance to think.”
“You’d better think, and think hard, bro. You’ve been gone for
thirty years
. Three decades. Just how do you think the family is going to respond? Hell, how do you think Mom and Dad would react if they knew you were here, like this? Walking around in human form?”
James’s irritation drained away abruptly. “What, our folks don’t want me back?”
“No, James, they
do
want you back. You don’t know how bad they want you back. They pray for it every day, every single day. They’ll welcome you with open arms, just like all the rest of us will, believe me. What I’m saying is, don’t fool around with their hearts.”
“What are you talking about? You make it sound like I plan to hurt them or something.”
“You’re planning to be human for a little while, then disappear again. How do you think they’ll feel? You can’t just pop in and out of people’s lives. It’s not right.” Connor ran a hand over his face and jammed it back in his pocket. “Good Christ, James, you’ve been
dead
. Maybe not physically, but for all intents and purposes, as far as your family is concerned, you’ve been dead for three decades. You can’t come back from the dead and then disappear again.”
Tentatively James let go of the fence post and straightened, stretched. He felt as if he’d been beaten with a sack of hammers. “Maybe I’d just better stay dead then.”
“It’s a little late for that. Think you can go back to being a wolf now and that’ll fix everything? Because it sure as hell won’t. Birkie’s already seen you. Jillian’s seen you. They know the family, they know the Watsons. Put it together.”
Realization dawned. “The rest of the family is going to find out I was in human form,” he said slowly as all the implications began to sink in. “I should never have Changed. I should have stayed a wolf,” he said, half to himself. “I should Change back now, before things get any more tangled.”
“Which brings us right back to my original point, that it’s way too late for that. The family, the Pack, our friends—hell, even Zoey will be devastated that she didn’t get to see you and I—shit, James, I don’t want you to go.” He paced and waved a hand as he struggled for words. “Look, you did what you had to do to survive when Evelyn died. You Changed and you stayed a wolf for a long time. I get that, I understand that, James. I didn’t blame you for it, I never blamed you.