Silence of the Wolf (10 page)

“Peter called to say his brother's come into town with a mate in tow.”

“Yeah, he told me earlier. I meant to mention it to you, but it slipped my mind. Is his brother in trouble already?”

“No… not yet. But Peter said he doesn't know what to think of them. He put them in his spare bedroom and told them to go ahead and fix themselves dinner while he conducted an investigation. When he came home, they were battling it out in the guest room.”

“Case of mate abuse?” Tom asked, shocked. “Did he arrest his brother?”

Darien shrugged. “He said they were getting it on hot and heavy, a big-time sparring match. Peter asked if they could stay here.”

Tom couldn't believe it. Peter was so good-natured, so how could he have a brother like that? “You told him no, right?”

Elizabeth woke in the middle of the night feeling much better. She wanted to check the footprints in the snow outside her room at the B and B before winds covered them up or the sun melted them away the next day. She was an excellent tracker, her father had said, because of her coyote heritage. She'd found a couple of lost dogs and several lost or runaway human kids because of her keen sense of smell and tracking ability.

She would have inspected the men's trail earlier if not for all the fuss Tom made about her accident. She'd leave right from the house, but she was so far out in the country that she'd prefer driving back into town and then exploring a bit while wearing her wolf coat.

She hated to wake Tom. But she was certain that if she asked to borrow his truck, he'd either say no to her going, worrying about her condition, or insist he go with her. She didn't need his help at tracking, which she almost always did alone. She really didn't want to trouble him at this hour of night, but she didn't have much choice.

She hadn't taken two steps out of the guest room when Tom walked out of his bedroom wearing only a pair of black-plaid flannel boxers. “Did you need something?”

She considered his nearly naked body and tried very hard not to stare and sigh. Well, kind of tried not to. He was in excellent shape, rugged and hot. She rarely thought of a wolf in those terms. She didn't think anything of a man being ripped if he was cruel to her. But Tom was so different. Actually, everyone in his pack was. Kind, welcoming, sincere. If only all families were like that.

“Sorry. Did I wake you?” she asked.

“Very light sleeper. So, did you need something?”

“Yeah. Your truck? Can I borrow the keys?”

He leaned against the wall and folded his arms. “It's three in the morning. You've been injured. You don't have your driver's license.” He glanced at her wrist. “Where's your wrist wrap?”

She wiggled her hand back and forth. “All better. I want to take a run and do some tracking.”

“At the B and B.”

“Yeah. To see if I can learn anything.”

“In your wolf coat.”

“My back feels a hundred percent better.”

One eyebrow raised, he gave her a skeptical look.

“Eighty-five percent.”

He smiled.

“Seventy.”

He didn't budge from the wall.

“
Nearly
seventy percent.”

He exhaled heavily and moved toward her. She stood her ground, and this time
she
folded her arms. She knew that look on his face. He didn't believe she could track better than his wolves. Nobody ever believed it until she proved it to them.

“We've got pack members on it.”

“I can do better.”

He smiled.

She reached out her hand for his keys.

“Darien would have a fit.”

“Don't tell him.”

“I'm part of a pack.”

“I'm not.”

“I still have to tell him.”

She sighed. “So tell him.”

“He'll say no.”

She turned and stalked toward the bedroom at the end of the hall. She didn't know which room was Darien and Lelandi's, but this one had more of their scent leading up to it. Others had been here also, probably doing what she was about to do. Bother them for pack business.

Tom said, “I'll call him. It's less likely to disturb Lelandi than knocking on the door.”

He slipped into his bedroom and walked back out with his phone in hand. She'd already headed in his direction, and he put his arm around her. “Darien—”

“No,” Darien said over the phone. “I heard everything. Wait until tomorrow.”

Tom looked to see if Elizabeth had heard what Darien said.

Elizabeth made a face. “Help me strip out of my clothes.”

Tom smiled just a little.

“I'm going running, no matter what Darien says. Since I'm only seventy percent healed, I might need a little help pulling off my clothes.”

Tom still had the phone up to his ear, still smiling, but Darien didn't say anything.

“Okay,” she said, “I can do it myself. I'm probably more like ninety-five percent fine.”

She pulled away from him, and he hurried to join her.

“She can't run,” Darien said.

“'Night, Darien. Sorry we disturbed your sleep.” Tom shut off the phone and took Elizabeth's hand. “Come on. Let me get dressed.” He glanced down at her stocking feet. “You're going like that?”

“I thought you might help me get my boots on.”

“Are you sure you're able to run in your wolf coat?”

“Sure. If I start feeling bad, we'll come back here.”

“You promise?”

“Yeah.”
But
only
if
she
didn't get a lead.

***

Tom and Elizabeth drove into Silver Town and parked in front of the B and B. Bertha met them at the front door, wearing a pink floral flannel nightgown, a big fluffy pink robe and slippers, and a nightcap on her silver curls. “Darien called. Said you were on your way over here. Said it was a case of life-and-death.”

“Yeah, mine, I'm sure,” Tom said.

Bertha smiled.

Elizabeth and Tom went inside, intending to change in her room so they could shift in privacy.

Bertha shut and locked the front door. “Darien wasn't real happy you headed on over here. You can use another room. I've had to leave all the glass everywhere because he wants to see things the way they were first thing in the morning. Just leave the window open and come back in that way. The other guests are not like us,” Bertha whispered.

“Thanks, Bertha,” Tom said.

“Should you run as a wolf so soon after the accident?” Bertha asked Elizabeth.

“She's a better tracker than our people,” Tom said.

Bertha smiled. “Good. We need the best.”

Elizabeth was certain Tom didn't believe her, but she'd prove she was right.

“I'll be off to bed. Just close the window when you return and lock the front door when you leave. 'Night, folks.” Bertha disappeared into her own suite of rooms.

Tom closed the door to the guest room and crossed the floor to open the window. “Are you sure you feel well enough to do this?”

“Yes, yes, I'm fine.”

He considered her determined expression and then sighed. “All right. Let me help you off with your boots and socks, at least. I know what it feels like to go through what you did.”

Yeah, and she'd bet nobody helped him undress afterward! Tom pulled off her boots and socks.

But he didn't stop there. He was unhurried while trying not to cause her any discomfort, but it was like stripping in slow motion, and she felt her skin tingle in embarrassment as he peeled each article of clothing off her body—jeans, formfitting sweater, bra.

Blushing furiously, Elizabeth realized she should have asked Bertha to help her.

Tom caught sight of Elizabeth in the mirror as he dropped the bra on the bed with her other clothes. Then he removed her panties. Before he could have more of his fill of her, she shifted.

He grinned. “You're beautiful.”

She couldn't believe he meant it. She was still a wolf-coyote mix. She had more of her father's looks—a red wolf but smaller, in between a female red wolf and coyote.

She turned to see Tom yanking off his clothes in a hurry and waited for him. When he saw she wouldn't tear off on her own, he relaxed a little.

Her jaw dropped as she stared at his toned body, tanned, ripped, and already aroused because he'd removed her clothes as if it were a prelude to something else.

Then he shifted. She expected him to jump out the window to lead the way. Instead, he joined her and nuzzled her cheek, her ear, sending a tingling interest rippling through her body. She really could get used to this kind of treatment.

Then he nudged her a little, as if asking her if she was ready. She headed for the window, but he jumped out first. He didn't look for scents on the snow. He watched her instead to see if she would collapse in agony. Even if she were still a little sore, she wouldn't let him see it and stop her from what she wanted to do. She put her nose to the ground while listening for signs of trouble. Tom could be her bodyguard. That way she could concentrate on her job.
Tracking.

She took off toward the ski resort in the direction the men had gone, then backtracked like they had done. They had headed around the building to the front where their vehicle had been parked, and she followed their trail there. The illumination of soft lantern lights along the street was blurred in a misty fog, the redbrick and wooden buildings topped with snow. She continued down the street, hoping that if any humans were around, they were all tucked quietly in their beds in the middle of the night or, if they happened to see her, thought she was a big dog. That was one advantage of being a smaller-sized wolf.

She headed toward the tavern, turned around, and loped back toward the B and B.

Tom continued to follow her, but he was looking for any movement in the area and not hunting for a trail.

She glanced across the street at the businesses there. An antique shop. A lingerie store with sexy nightwear and daywear. She glanced at Tom. He looked to see what she'd been observing. Fishnet stockings and crotchless underwear. Her warm breath mixing with the cold air, she felt heat course through her wolf-coyote body.

She shifted her attention farther down the street to the abandoned hotel across from the tavern. She had a flashback to when she and Tom had gone into the tavern. She'd thought it odd that the dusty hotel window had one small clean spot. She studied it, looking for any movement inside the building. And saw something. She ran for the abandoned hotel.

With his longer legs, Tom bolted ahead of Elizabeth in protective big, gray wolf mode. When he reached the hotel, he placed his paws on the windowsill. He peered in through glass so dirty that it was nearly impossible to see in. Someone had definitely wiped away a little of the grime to watch the street. Vagrants? Or was someone using this as a base of operations for something illegal?

Reluctantly, Tom turned and headed back to the B and B. Elizabeth, however, took off down the alley. Tom woofed insistently at her. She was sure he didn't want her chasing down strangers, but she wanted answers. She got a glimpse of a white minivan tearing off behind the building. Lights off. No plates visible.

Rejoining her, Tom nudged her to return to the B and B. She wanted to track the men, and she wanted to check out the old hotel. If any of them were inside, she and Tom needed to stop them. But Tom wasn't budging.

He waited for her to comply. She growled at him, then raced to the back of the B and B. When she reached the guest-room window, she leaped inside.

Tom jumped inside after her and shifted. He yanked his boxers on, then grabbed his phone out of his pants pocket and called someone. After stalking over to the window, he shut and locked it.

Since he was on the phone, she could stay in her wolf form and wait for him to finish his conversation, then shift and he could help her to dress, or…

She shifted, climbed under the covers, and eyed Tom's gorgeous body. She could stay here the rest of the night just taking in the vision.

“Darien, get Trevor, Peter, and whoever else you can over to the Silver Town Inn. Elizabeth”—he glanced at her and smiled a little—“found our men's hideaway.”

Tom knew his idea was crazy, but as soon as Elizabeth located where the men had camped out, he wanted to propose that she stay with his family. Whenever someone could really be useful to the pack, they wanted the person to join them. At least that's what he told himself.

It was essential that the pack members liked the wolf—everyone who had met her indicated they had—but skills that were important made all the difference to a pack like theirs that operated a whole town.

That wasn't the
only
reason he wanted Elizabeth in the pack, but he thought it might help sell the idea to everyone else before he could work up the nerve to expose how
he
felt about her. And how much he wanted to get to know her better. Elizabeth was so secretive about her affiliations with her own pack that he suspected she wouldn't want to be with their pack—or any other.

She'd curled up in the B and B guest bed, covers over her naked body.

Tom wanted to join her in that bed. Wanted to see her naked again, craved touching her, smelling her, tasting her. He just wanted to be with her. And kiss her like she'd kissed him on the slope.

With half-lidded eyes, she watched him. He needed to help her dress and to return her to Darien's house. Yet he was torn, because he also wanted to check out the hotel and chase after the men who had been there. He wanted to catch them and make them pay for hurting Elizabeth.

“Go with the men when they get to the hotel,” she said, her voice tired, her eyelids drifting closed. “You don't need to watch over me.”

She was beautiful, her red hair spilling across the pale blue pillow, the blue comforter resting at her naked shoulders that he wanted to kiss—that and her neck and her cheeks and her full pink lips.
She
would be his choice for dream mating if he'd ever had any dreams like that!

“I'll just sleep,” she said.

“No. We need to return to Darien's place. It's better protected.”

“Did you see them? When you looked through the hotel window?” Elizabeth asked.

“No. They shut the door to that room, so all I saw was the door close.”

“We could have gone after them,” she groused.

He smiled. “If you had been a hundred percent fine, yes.”

She grunted.

“I'm serious.” He sat on the bed next to her, running his hand over her thigh covered by the comforter, his gaze locked onto hers. “At least two men are involved in this. Besides, I'm certain they were in the van when it took off, so it's not like we're going to catch up with any of them at the old hotel.”

He was certain the minivan had been the same one that he'd seen passing in front of the hospital while he waited for Doc Weber to give him the findings concerning Elizabeth's injuries. Had they known she was at the hospital, so they had time to grab her things then? Most likely. A lookout could also have watched Tom take Elizabeth to the tavern for lunch and alerted the men when Tom and Elizabeth finished eating there.

“All right. Let me sleep, then,” she said.

“Not here.” He rose from the bed and grabbed his jeans, then pulled them on.

By the time he yanked on the rest of his clothes, she was nearly asleep. He scooped her clothes up. He'd never expected to be undressing and dressing a woman he'd just met but who had his senses reeling. And not have his way with her the way he desired.

He tugged the covers aside, and she grumbled something. He smiled and slid on one of her socks, then the other. Slipping her panties on when she didn't move a muscle to help was harder than he expected. He grunted as he got the tantalizing ice blue panties on. She smiled.

“You could help,” he said, not really meaning it.

“You could leave me alone,” she said, not opening her eyes. “Just let me sleep.”

He pulled on the jeans very slowly. She winced.

“Sorry.”

When he finished and helped her to sit up to put on her lacy blue bra, she held her breath.

“Maybe we should just put your sweater on and not bother with the bra,” he said.

“Okay, you can carry it in your pocket.” She smiled at him, the look one of pure delight. “You know, psychologically, kissing makes the hurt go away. Mind over matter. Not that I'm hurting that much.”

He helped her on with her sweater, unable to keep from taking a longer look at her breasts as he tugged the sweater carefully over her arms and head and then down to her waist.

As concerned as he was about how she felt, he hoped he didn't look too eager. She looked at his lips and licked her own, as if in invitation.

Vixen.

“I promise I won't bite too hard,” she said.

He laughed and took her face in his hands, his thumbs caressing her temples, and then leaned down. “Here I was worried about
you
being hurt further. Certainly not
me
.”

He kissed her. Softly, gently. Her lips opened to further exploration, but he didn't push it. Until she licked his mouth and smiled a little at him with the invite. He locked his lips over her lower one. Again, she smiled a little. Kissing her was like sampling a sweet, forbidden dessert, tantalizing and enticing the sampler to want more.

Her hands were on his neck, her thumbs caressing his jaw in a way that was provocative and incredibly sexy. He was already in full-blown arousal and had a devil of time keeping his feelings in check. He alternated between soft and unassuming kisses and inserting his tongue with teasing flicks and deepening the kiss. Trying hard not to lean her back onto the bed and press his interest further than was prudent, he smelled her excitement, her desire, and listened to her rapid heartbeat pounding as hard as his. He thought she wanted to go further as much as he did.

She was breathing fast and leaned away from his kiss to take a breath. He feared he'd overdone it and hurt her. Instead, she had her second wind, and this time, she gathered his sweater in her fists and pulled him close to get another kiss.

Instantly he obliged, their mouths fusing, their tongues caressing and appraising. He didn't want this to end. But he knew he'd better before they both regretted it. He broke off in the gentlest possible way and kissed her forehead, his mouth lingering there far too long. He didn't want to end this, and he needed her to know it.

“I have to help you dress and return you to Darien's house,” he said.

“If you insist,” she said, and the way she looked at him indicated that she wanted more, too.

That was the reason he posed the next question, although he was sure what her response would be. But he had to. “I've never asked a woman this before, but… would you like to join the pack?” He knew he shouldn't ask. Not without getting Darien and Lelandi's approval.

“Thanks, but no thanks.”

He wouldn't take her negative response at face value. “You're not a loner,” he said, certain of it. She might have had to live alone, but she got along well with everyone she'd met here. She didn't act like a lone wolf. Not the way someone like Nurse Matthew did.

She didn't respond, just looked at his chest. He sighed and helped her on with her boots. “I have something back at the house that you can wear that's easier to get in and out of until we can pick up something else for you.”

“Thank you, Tom.” She seemed to want to say something else, given the way she looked at him and bit her lip. But she pulled her parka sleeve on one arm and didn't say anything.

He helped pull her parka on the rest of the way and then escorted her out of the B and B. They were ready to head for his truck when Darien stalked across the street, catching Tom's eye. Tom wasn't surprised to see Darien arrive when it looked like they might have found the men who had injured Elizabeth.

“Our men got her bags, ID, laptop, everything. At least we think it's everything. You'll have to look it over and see for sure, Elizabeth,” Darien said, sounding pleased but still highly annoyed that anyone could have targeted her like they had in his pack's territory. And had been hiding right under their noses.

“Thank God. But… you didn't catch them,” she said, appearing somewhat relieved because the villains had left her personal items behind.

Darien shook his head. He looked at Tom and said, “You say they drove a white minivan.”

“Yeah. I saw it when we were at the hospital, too,” Tom said.

“Damn,” Darien said, rubbing his chin as he looked toward the old hotel. “Those three outsiders at the tavern earlier today?”

“Were driving a white minivan,” Tom guessed.

“Yeah, they were,” Darien said.

Elizabeth let out her breath in an exasperated huff. “We just managed to chase them off.”

Darien was quick to say, “We got your stuff back. That's what's important.”

“They must have been afraid when they ran out of there.”

“We didn't smell any fear,” Darien said.

“Then what?” she asked.

“Not sure. Take her back home, will you, Tom?” Darien gave her a pack leader look that said she was his to command for now. “Sleep the rest of the night. No more running in your wolf coat or otherwise.” He said to Tom, “If you have to, stay with her.”

“He won't have to. I'm not waking up until I absolutely have to tomorrow.”

She could have been annoyed with Darien for saying what he did about Tom taking charge of her. Yet, she swore more was being communicated than what was being spoken aloud—the way Darien cast a look at Tom, and the way Tom gave him an almost imperceptible nod in response.

She even wondered if Darien had put Tom up to asking her to join the pack. In her father's pack, the leader would have decided such a thing. Certainly not a sub-leader.

“Thank you for the offer, by the way, Tom. Nobody's ever invited me to join a pack,” she said on the ride back to Darien's house. She appreciated being asked and wanted Tom to know that her refusal had nothing to do with the pack or him, but more to do with her past experiences and the problems with her uncle and half brother.

“You're not a loner,” he said again.

“It doesn't matter.”

He glanced at her. “It does. For a pack, it matters.”

She wouldn't fight him on this issue. The point was moot.

When they arrived back at Darien's house, Tom escorted her to her room. “You might need a bodyguard tonight.”

She smiled up at him, touching his sweater-covered chest. “Do you always like to live dangerously?”

He laughed. “Sorry, Elizabeth. I can't see that you would be too rough on me.”

“You never know.” She didn't want to be alone. She wanted whatever they could have just this once. No strings. No mating. Just a meeting of the minds. And their bodies, as far as they could take it and still not be mated wolves.

“'Night, Elizabeth.” He waited for her response. A kiss. A hug maybe.

Trying to discourage anything more between them and annoyed with herself for getting so worked up over any man, she kissed him on the cheek. “'Night, Tom.”

She walked into the bedroom and realized she couldn't take off her clothes without his help. She turned and frowned. He watched her, waiting for her to retire for the night. She wondered if he believed she might try to leave and do something further about the guys who had injured her. But she had no intention of going anywhere else tonight.

“Okay, I really,
really
hate to ask this because it's such an imposition, but… could you help me out of my clothes again?”

***

Undressing Elizabeth one more time was way more than an imposition. It killed Tom to see her naked skin and not be able to taste it, to feel it, to smell her sweet scent and want more.

He waited a moment, trying to find the right words, and finally said, “You're killing me, you know?” He shook his head, smiling, and turned toward his bedroom. “I'll get one of my shirts for you. It'll probably be a while before they bring you your bags.”

When he returned with the softest blue-plaid flannel shirt he owned, he found her sitting on the bed, her parka on a chair. He closed the bedroom door. She stretched her arms up to him so that he could remove her sweater.

“If I keep removing your clothes, something more is bound to happen,” he said, hopeful, yet practical.

“So… let it.”

He raised a brow, not sure what she was agreeing to. He pulled the sweater over her head and stared down at her mouthwatering breasts, then shifted his gaze to her face. “If you kiss me again…” He let his words trail off, waiting to hear what she had in mind.

“You're supposed to kiss
me
—to make the hurt go away.” She raised her foot. He pulled off one boot and then the other.

He thought she meant more than the physical pain. He wondered what she'd experienced that had made her a loner. He was so used to helping others that he wanted to help her, too. But his feelings went deeper than that.

The cold wind blew against the closed window, but the room was toasty warm. He wasn't in any hurry to undress her or to help her into his flannel shirt or to leave her. She stood and he removed her jeans. He hesitated to take off her panties, thinking to help her put his shirt on, when she climbed onto the bed and pulled the covers over herself.

He picked up his flannel shirt off the bed. “Didn't you want me to help you into this?”

“Kiss me,” she said.

“A good-night kiss,” he said. Yet he didn't think she meant that.

Her smile was wicked.

“If I kiss you the way I want to, it's bound to go a lot further than that this time.” He had to be honest with her. He wanted a lot more. Not a mating, but something that said he wanted to go further later if they were both agreeable.

“I count on it,” she said, reaching up to tug at his belt loop.

He was out of his clothes in a flash, making her smile. He pulled the covers aside, slid over to her side of the bed, and began kissing her again—cheeks, mouth, throat, shoulders—his hands sliding all over her soft skin. He kept telling himself he
wasn't
ready to mate her, but his body said otherwise.