Silence of the Wolf (18 page)

He scooped her up in his arms and set her gently on the bed. “You, me, and one whole pack of wolves will adore them.”

Tom had planned to make love to Elizabeth in the living room on the sofa by the warm fire. He'd never expected his cousin to be confined right where she had rested—and suffering from an injury, too.

He wanted to see every inch of her when he made love to her this time, instead of being buried in the blankets. But the bedroom was too cold.

Then again… His gaze skimmed over her in the pale blue sweats as she smiled up at him, took his sweater in her hands, fisted them around the soft wool fabric, and drew him close.

“Hmm, Elizabeth.” Already his blood heated and the room seemed a lot warmer. Even so, he didn't want her chilled like she'd been yesterday. He slipped his hands up her sweatshirt and caressed her breasts, his mouth moving over hers—soft, pliable, appealing—as she kissed him back.

He moved her slowly backward toward the bed, the covers still thrown aside from earlier in the afternoon. When her legs bumped into the mattress, she smiled. He rubbed her nipples with his thumbs, his mouth still fused to hers. She let go of his sweater and tugged to pull it up.

He quickly shucked his sweater, jeans, socks, and then boxers. Watching her as she slid into bed wearing the sweats, he yanked all the blankets over her. At least the sheets were flannel for this time of year and softer and warmer than cotton. Her eyes feasted on his body, and her interest made his body come to life.

“Hot,” she said, focusing on his erect cock, her mouth and eyes smiling.

“And getting hotter.” He pulled the covers aside so he could join her. He yanked them over him and reached down to pull off her sweatpants, their mouths again kissing. He struggled to keep his mouth on hers, not wanting to break contact as he tried to yank her pants down. She finished the move by kicking them away, burying them in the sheets.

She ran her tongue across his lips as he slid his hand underneath the sweatshirt and cupped a breast again. He loved how her breasts were soft and cushiony and sized just right for his mouth and hands.

Her leg slid over the side of his, her heel brushing the back of his calf. A frisson of heat shot through him as he slipped his hand down her soft skin until he reached the curly hair between her legs. And stopped.

Her mouth suckled on his lower lip, and he groaned with ardent need. He claimed her, his fingers stroking her wet, ready flesh, his mouth nipping her lips with a gentle teasing. She attempted to take off the sweatshirt. He would have helped, but he was busily stroking her and making her writhe with pleasure. The sweatshirt rested above her breasts when she came, his mouth covering hers to muffle the cry of ecstasy.

She smelled divine, sex personified.

He climbed over her, between her, not entering her yet but pulling off the sweatshirt. He feasted his eyes on her breasts and then set his mouth on one—sucking hard and caressing the other at the same time with his hand.

Her fingernails raked through his hair and scalp, tightening on strands of his hair as her nipples became taut, sensitive peaks. He rubbed her mound with his erection, and she bent her knees and spread her legs, inviting him to enter.

Not yet.

The urgency throbbed within him to take her, to finish this, to fulfill the wolf's need, the primal urge to claim, but he wanted it to last.

She didn't make that easy as he kissed her again, and she inserted her tongue and stroked the insides of his mouth. His other head took charge, his cock pushing between her wet, slick folds, burrowing deeper until he couldn't go any farther.

She reached up and flicked her fingernails over his taut nipples, and he let out an inhuman growl. She smiled. He kissed her again, licking and tangling his tongue with hers until he was close to the edge, trying to hang on, suspended, and then he came, striking it rich as the firestorm hit.

He hadn't needed to dream about this to know she was the one for him. He couldn't imagine suffering the dreams and waking to find she wasn't with him.

He collapsed on top of her and she laughed. “I love you, you tired old wolf.”

He grinned at her but didn't make any attempt to move off her after what she'd called him.

“You're heavy.”

“You're sexy. And I claim you for my own, forever and ever,” he said very seriously.

“Good, because I'm not letting you go.” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “You're still heavy.”

He laughed and moved off her, then pulled her against him. “You're beautiful,” he said, stroking her hair.

“You are, too. I didn't know gray wolves could be that big.”

He chuckled. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Tom. I didn't think I ever could love a wolf or another man, whatever kind he was.” She cuddled against him, the two of them buried under the covers, snuggling.

He caressed her shoulder, loving just being able to touch her in this way. To lie together. To be together.

He had planned to sleep, but he couldn't just yet, wanting to know more about her brother if she wasn't too tired. He needed to know what he and his pack were up against when it came to her family. “Do you mind telling me more about your half brother?”

She sighed. “Sefton doesn't see me as his sister. He claims my father couldn't have mated with my mother because my father was already mated to
his
mother.”

“She was already dead, though. Right?”

“Yes. That didn't matter to Sefton. I don't think he would have cared if my father mated again, if his new mate had been a wolf and not a coyote.”

“So your uncle took him in?”

“Yeah. My father turned him over to my uncle to raise after Sefton tried to burn down the house.”

Tom blew out a harsh breath. “Do you think your uncle was angry he was saddled with raising your half brother?”

“Not that I ever saw. He raised Sefton like he was his own son. At least that's the way it appeared to me whenever I saw them together. I think it was more that my uncle hated that both he and Sefton had trouble finding mates of their own because of their association with my mom and dad.”

“It couldn't have been because of the way
they
were? That maybe it had nothing to do with your parents or you?”

Elizabeth didn't say anything for a while as he stroked her silky hair.

“What about Bruin? He's dead now, so no longer a problem where you're concerned, but would he have sanctioned your parents' murder?”

“He might have. I never saw him. I don't know how he treated my uncle and half brother.”

It didn't really make much of a difference, Tom thought. All that mattered was learning who was responsible for her parents' death and everything concerning her parents' murderers and their involvement with Elizabeth.

He wanted to know everything about her. He smiled at the thought that she was his mate now. “Tell me about your father.”

She laughed a little. “He was a character. Good-natured. Loving. He was a perfectionist, and when he showed me how to do some job, he'd go into long-winded detail, indicating exactly how I was to do it. When he was done, I'd ask if he could show me again. And he would. So instead of having three cast-iron pans to wash, I'd only get stuck with one.”

Tom chuckled.

She smiled. “It got to be a joke with us because he was like that with everything. Every time, he'd do the job again, digging a second hole in the garden to plant a tree, or whatever. Usually by the third time I asked him to demonstrate again, he'd smile and make me do it.”

“I would have liked him,” Tom said.

“Yeah, you would have. And my mother. She baked cinnamon rolls like Bertha does.” She sighed heavily.

Tom didn't know what to say. He was afraid the memories were too sad for Elizabeth, but before he could attempt to change the subject, she said, “She didn't take any guff from my father, wolf that he was.”

“That must be where you get it from.”

“Yeah,” she said dreamily. “Just
you
remember that.”

They snuggled for a long time, and when she fell asleep, he followed. A few hours later, he heard something in the living room—a scraping sound, he thought—that jarred him awake.

Tom quickly extricated himself from Elizabeth, not meaning to wake her, but she quickly sat up as he left the bed. He grabbed the rifle, hurried to the bedroom door, and yanked it open.

CJ stared at the door, still manacled to the sofa but sitting up now. “I'm not going anywhere, Tom,” he said. “But I'm hungry. Any more of that great chili you make? I've smelled it all evening.”

“I'll get you some in a minute.” He closed the door, set the rifle on the dresser, then dressed. He watched Elizabeth dig around in the bedsheets for the sweatpants she had been wearing. “Showtime.”

“Do you think he'll tell us anything that we don't already know?”

“I sure hope so.”

When they were both dressed, they left the bedroom together, and Tom joined CJ by the fireplace, adding more wood to the fire.

“Can I get him anything?” Elizabeth asked Tom.

“A glass of water and a bowl of that chili, if you don't mind.”

“All right.” She hurried to get them.

“Start talking, CJ,” Tom said, crossing his arms as he looked down at his cousin. “What do you know about the wolves harassing the livestock?”

“I didn't have any part of it.”

Tom grunted.

Elizabeth rejoined them and stood quietly nearby with the bowl of chili and glass of water. CJ stared at Elizabeth as if seeing her for the first time. Was he surprised Tom had mated with her even though she was part coyote? CJ's father had had issues with Lelandi being a red wolf and not gray, so maybe so.

“Yeah. We're mated,” Tom said defensively.

CJ glanced at Tom, then back at Elizabeth.

“You know me from somewhere, don't you?” Elizabeth asked quietly.

That took the wind out of Tom's sails. Maybe that's why CJ had been staring at her.

“Yeah. Yeah, I do. A long time ago.”

“When?”

CJ cleared his throat. “I mean, at first I wasn't sure. I didn't know you're the one Tom got interested in.” He shook his head. “But when I heard you talking about Bruin's pack and… well, my brothers and I were the ones who found you at that watering hole when that man nearly drowned you.

“We didn't know what to do. We weren't in our territory, but we'd decided to take a swim there because it was a hot day, and then we saw you struggling with some older guy. We made a lot of racket as we headed for the water, hoping the creep would let you go. After the guy took off, we followed him to make sure he didn't come back.”

Tom studied his cousin and couldn't believe that at one time, CJ and his brothers had saved Elizabeth's life.

“Thanks,” she said softly, “for coming to my aid.”

Tom scowled. “You and your brothers should have killed the bastard.”

“We weren't in our territory. If Bruin had learned we were there, he would have killed us. You know what he was like.”

Tom shook his head. “You should have killed him.” Hell, if they had, Elizabeth would never have had all the troubles she'd had lately. Then again, she probably wouldn't have done the story on their ski resort if her main goal hadn't been to meet up with North. Tom wouldn't have met her. “Who's behind stalking the livestock, then? The farmers are all up in arms. Somebody could get killed.”

“Damn it, Tom. You know my brothers will want to kill me.”

“Better them than me.”

CJ looked mutinous but didn't say anything. Tom changed tactics.

“We were friends once,” Tom said, trying to coax CJ to explain everything to him.

“I know. Why do you think I didn't go along with any of this?”

“Any of what?” Tom wanted specifics. Had CJ really not had anything to do with the problems the pack had?

“The livestock scares.” CJ looked down at the floor.

“We suspected it was the four of you,” Tom said, though only three wolves had been spotted. But the brothers did everything together, or had in the past.

“Not me,” CJ said defiantly.

“Why not you?”

“Eric, Brett, and Sarandon all have a grudge against Darien because he murdered our father. If our father had taken over when yours died instead of Darien… I was angry, but you were still my cousins. We were still a pack.”

“No longer. You abandoned the pack,” Tom said.

“I know, Tom. It was a mistake to leave the pack. All right?” CJ sounded exasperated. “I didn't like Darien's first mate. She was a cancer in the pack. I liked Lelandi. What my father did was wrong, but he was still my father and my brothers felt like we couldn't stay. I didn't want my only family to leave without me. But I grew up with most of the people in the pack. They're my family, too, and now I wish I'd never left with my brothers.”

“Why didn't you just come back to the pack?” Tom asked, still hoping that his cousins would. Darien would make them pay in some way for putting pack members in danger by scaring the farmers, but no one in their pack had been hurt because of it so far.

“I wanted to, but Eric wouldn't hear of it.”

“So why were your brothers stalking the livestock?”

“We've been looking for a way to come back into the pack and still save face. We knew what our father had done reflected poorly on us, as had leaving the pack. We thought if we could help the pack in some way, it could work in our favor. I don't know why my brothers thought stalking the farms was a good idea, but I don't control what they do.”

Tom breathed a sigh of relief. “Hell, CJ, we thought you were getting ready to cause trouble. Revenge against the pack or something. Why else would you wear hunter's spray?”

“Because we didn't want you guys to know it was us before we could come up with a good reason not to just kick us out of the territory.”