"Come on," he said, all the emotion draining from his voice. "I'll take you over there."
"Fine," Sarah rattled. "Just let me get my purse." Her mind was racing with alternative plans. Somehow she would find someone—perhaps Pepper Sinclair, the closest thing she had to a friend in this town—to drive her up to the cabin. Once she got there, Wolf would realize too late that she'd meant what she said. She had to get away from him. He moved her as no man had ever done, and Sarah couldn't risk losing the last of her disintegrating self-reliance to Wolf.
Part of her was relieved, but another part was crying out that she would miss Wolf's company, his presence. The feelings she'd had for Philip and those she held for Wolf were chasms apart. Her mother had told
her what
real love was like, how it felt, and what it meant. Did she love Wolf? The thought was pulverizing, sweet and unsure.
In front of the nursing home, Sarah turned to Wolf. She ached at having hurt him. Dragging in a breath, Sarah said,
"I
want to meet Pepper Sinclair when I'm done seeing Mom."
"Who's Pepper?"
"She's a smoke jumper for the forestry department. I'm surprised you haven't met her yet. She's the only woman on the team."
Wolf roused himself from his unhappiness that Sarah wanted to leave. “No. . . I haven't met her, yet. I heard her name mentioned once."
Sarah forced a small smile. "She's a lot like me—independent and a fighter."
"Are you two friends?"
With a shrug, Sarah said, "I guess Pepper is a friend to me—but I haven't been a very good one to her."
"Because of the trust issue?"
Wolf guessed grimly.
"Yes." Sarah licked her lower lip. "I'll call her from here, Wolf.
I. . .
I need some time away from you—from everything."
"How are you getting home?" he asked, trying not to feel the smarting pain of her honesty.
"I'll have Pepper drop me off. It'll be a couple of hours, so don't worry, okay?" She looked up to see the torture in his eyes and felt terrible for her dishonesty. More than anything, Sarah wanted to avoid subjecting Wolf to an argument over her leaving. This way it would be cleaner, less hurtful to both of them.
"Just keep your eyes open, Sarah. I don't trust
Summers
at all."
Without meaning to, Sarah reached out and grazed his puffy cheek. "I'll be careful because you care," she told him, her voice quavering. And she would.
The tingling dulled the pain in his jaw. Wolf watched her leave the truck. Unhappy, he sat with his hands resting on the steering wheel. There was nothing he could do to stop Sarah. He'd lost Maria through a very stupid mistake; he didn't want to lose Sarah the same way. He tried to tell his hammering heart that she would be safe enough at the nursing home. And he'd heard that Pepper Sinclair was a woman warrior in disguise.
Sighing, Wolf put the truck in gear and backed out of the asphalt parking lot. His entire body ached, but, worse, his heart was in utter turmoil. Sarah had admitted some of her feelings for him. He tried to understand the terrible pressures that must put on her. She didn't want to trust him, didn't want to like him, but she did. Exasperated, Wolf left the nursing home. He'd go take a nap, and maybe, by the time he awoke, Sarah would be home.
Sarah moved guiltily around her cabin. Pepper had just left, and she was alone for the first time in nearly a week. The silence of the cabin was nerve-racking; something it had never been to her before. Nervously, Sarah looked at her watch. Two hours had passed since Wolf had trustingly left her at the nursing home.
Staring at the phone, Sarah knew she should call him. She didn't want Wolf to worry. Perhaps she'd wait another half hour. . . She dreaded calling him—dreaded his reaction. The cabin needed to be dusted and mopped. She noticed that Wolf had all the lapidary equipment back in place after
Summers's
henchmen had tried to steal it. One chair—her rocker—was broken. Moving over to it, sadness stole through Sarah as she gently touched the back of it.
Forcing herself to get to work as the evening light began to steal through the cabin
windows,
Sarah tried to focus her energy on housecleaning. She should be happy to be home, but somehow she wasn't. The vacuum cleaner was a noisy old machine, and Sarah ran it over the burnished cedar floor. Brushing strands of damp hair off her brow, she finally finished cleaning the living room and shut it off.
A car door
siamtned
in the driveway.
Sarah jerked up, her heart pounding.
Summers?
Or Wolf?
She
froze,
the vacuum in hand. She saw the shadow of a man pass the kitchen window, heading for the door. Gulping, Sarah dropped the vacuum handle. Sharp banging on the door made her jump.
"Sarah?"
Her mouth dropped open. Wolf stood at the kitchen door.
Crushing her hand against her breast in relief, she hurried as fast as her healing feet would take her to the back door. She saw the agitation on Wolf's face and tried to emotionally prepare for his righteous anger. Opening the door, she muttered, "How did you know I came home?"
Wolf held onto his anger as he moved into the kitchen. He deliberately shut the door softly behind him. Sarah's face was riddled with guilt. "I got worried," he said, "and
I
called the nursing home. They said you left with Pepper. When you didn't come to my house, I figured you came up here."
"I—I'm sorry, Wolf."
"You didn't have to lie to me, Sarah," he said sadly.
"Yes, I did!" she cried, moving into the living room.
Wolf followed, "Don't you realize you're at risk?" he demanded hoarsely, stalking up to her until mere inches separated them.
Belligerently, Sarah raised her chin and met the fierce thunderstorm of his eyes. "Risk?" she cracked. "Being with you is the biggest risk of all, Wolf! Don't you realize that? I tried to tell you earlier. . .
I
tried. . ."
And she took a step back, choking on the words.
Blindly Wolf made a grab for Sarah. He thought she was going to run from him—-again. His hands closed around her upper arms, and he drew her against him. "No," he rasped.
"Don't ran, Sarah.
You make yourself a target, and I
can't.
. . 1 can't let you be killed! "
With a whimper, Sarah tried to pull away. Wolf was too close, too overpowering, and his masculinity was undoing her in every way. Raw emotions flowed through her, ribbons of need entwining with heat and longing. Tears stung her eyes as she lifted her hands to push at him.
It was impossible!
Instinctively Wolf cupped Sarah's face with his hands. There was such
love
radiating from her eyes—mixed with her fear o
f
her feelings for him—that he couldn't stop himself. His breathing suspended as he barely grazed Sarah's parted, waiting lips. A soft moan came from her. His hands tightened imperceptibly on her face, and he made contact with her again, feeling her lips move shyly beneath his. There was such uncertainty coupled with the need in her kiss. Her mouth opened as a flower opens to the sun's rays, lush and questing. This time, Wolf's control disintegrated, and he met and melded hotly with her lips. A groan reverberated through him ¡
ike
thunder. Sarah's returning kiss was hungry, inciting a fire within him. Despite her awkwardness, her shyness, Wolf drowned in the heat and fire of her offering. The spicy scent of her hair and velvety feel of her skin filled his senses, dizzying him.
Sarah drowned in the splendor of Wolf's fiery kiss. His mouth was strong and coaxing. Her nostrils flaring, she drank in the scent of Wolf, a combination of pine and fresh air and pure male. Her fingers tensed against Ms
barrel
chest, and she felt one of his hands slide down the length of her spine and tightly capture her hips against
his. The contact was shocking, pleasurable. Gasping, Sarah broke the kiss, gulping for air.
Instantly Wolf released her. She swayed. He caught her gently by the arm and allowed her to lean against him. They were both trembling.
"Sweet," he breathed against her hair, his arm going around her shoulder as she sank weakly against him, "you make a man tremble like a willow in a thunderstorm."
Sarah couldn't talk, she could only feel. She burrowed her head against his chest, hearing the wild beating of his heart. His arms swept around her, and she surrendered to his superior strength. After a moment, Sarah lifted her head and gazed up into his stormy eyes— and what she saw there was a combination of savage hunger and tenderness.
The kiss should never have happened, her mind screeched at her. But, somehow, Sarah couldn't fight herself any longer. Wolf was just as stunned by the kiss as she was, she was sure. It had happened like lightning striking them, leaving them shaken in its wake.
Wolf gently eased just far enough away from Sarah to see her flushed features. As her lashes lifted to reveal lustrous blue eyes, he groaned silently. Her lips were glistening from the power of his kiss, and he reeled with need of her. Trying to grapple with the situation, he rasped, "I never want to share anything but honesty about how we feel about each other." His voice was low as he lightly removed strands of golden hair from her cheek. "You give me hope, Sarah. I felt dirtier than hell before meeting you, and you make me feel clean inside." He continued to stroke the crown of her hair, marveling at the way the light changed and danced across the strands. "I'm still carrying a lot of guilt about Ma-
ria,
about what happened. When you started living with me, I started feeling differently about myself, maybe about the world in general." He gave her an
embarrassed
look. "You have that kind of effect on me, honey. You're one of a kind, a special woman.
Magical."
Sarah clung to his words. They were spoken with such reverence. "It shouldn't have happened, Wolf."
"We both wanted it."
Wincing, Sarah bowed her head. "I felt so terrible lying to you, Wolf. I'm
scared.
. . so scared. . ."
The tremor in her voice deeply affected him. "I know, honey. So am I—for different reasons." He grazed her cheek. "You're afraid to trust outside yourself, and I'm afraid I can't protect you well enough to deserve that trust."
Sarah nodded, but she knew Wolf was questioning his own ability to love, too. "Let me stay here, Wolf. Give me the time I need," she pleaded.
"Sarah-"
"No, hear me out—I have a gun. I know how to use the thing! I'm a crack shot, and believe
me,
I've shot at Summers's men before." She pulled out of his arms, hating herself for it, hating the loss she saw in Wolf's eyes. "You've got to understand, Wolf. Being around you is a special kind of hell for me! I—I can't keep my mind on
Summers
while I'm trying to deal with the emotions you pull out of me." Opening her hands, her voice dropping, she whispered, "Please, let me stay here. I'll be okay. I know I will."