The Wolf's Call (Two-Natured London) (7 page)

Charly had no idea why she was
making breakfast for Raphael. Trying to change his mind after last night’s
rejection? To show him that she would make a good little spouse for him after
all?

The
thought appalled her. She was not a homemaker. Admittedly, none of her
relationships had progressed to the breakfast stage, but she found it difficult
to imagine she would have toiled by the stove first thing in the morning for
any of the men she had dated. Or that she would have found it necessary to
convince them of her suitability with quintessentially feminine skills. She
wasn’t even sure she had any, having spent all her energy learning how to beat
men on their own territory.

So
maybe it was her prejudice rearing its ugly head. Perhaps she was being
cautious, feeding Rafe properly before getting into the closed confines of a
car with him. Okay, she didn’t actually believe shifters ate humans, even big
hungry wolves. But there had to be a really good reason for her to do something
this out of character. She was enjoying the cooking even, taking pride in her
ability to manage a decent breakfast.

Perhaps
she was just suffering from the consequences of a restless night. She was
surprised she had slept at all; so much had been going through her head. The
fight had returned to haunt her, and it had taken a long time for her to
convince herself that neither she nor Rafe had been in real danger. Shifters or
not, those guys wouldn’t have killed them in cold blood.

Once
that anxiety had been put to rest, she had been free to contemplate her
feelings for Rafe. Namely, if she could have any after only two days. She was
not an emotional person, her rigid self-control guaranteeing that. But he had
got through to her from the start, breaking past the barriers she had raised
around herself, evoking previously unfelt emotions, arousing her like no man
before. So was she interested in him merely because he got her blood heating?

In the
end, she had been forced to admit that there was more to her feelings than sex.
He was exactly the kind of man she had always been looking for: strong,
self-confident, and assertive, but not on her expense. Even when he had issued
her orders, expecting her to follow them, he had had a good reason for it. She
liked him because he was a man who didn’t have to belittle her in order to feel
manly. But was it enough to want a future together?

Or was
she, quite simply, drawn to him because he was right – he was strong enough to
pull her back if she lost control. For the first time ever she truly wanted to
lose it. Not merely in bed, but in everything. She wouldn’t have to be the
strong one for a change, handling everything by herself. It was a very
seductive feeling. On top of everything else, there was his outward
suitability, his station in life, his education and looks. When someone was
that perfect, did it really matter that they weren’t the same species?

For
him it mattered. To have everything she wanted at her grasp only to have it
denied was truly upsetting. Why wouldn’t he date humans? She was accustomed to
relentlessly pursuing her goals and achieving them, but it was evident that
Rafe’s mind couldn’t be turned with mere stubbornness. So should she even try?
Or settle for just having sex with him?

No. If
she didn’t get the whole package, she would have nothing from him, no matter
how amazing it would be.

Then,
rather perversely, having made that decision, she had lain awake, waiting for
him to come to her. That he hadn’t had aggravated her to no end. Obviously she
wasn’t good enough for mere sex either. Wasn’t she good for anything? She
decided to him ask the moment he appeared.

She
sensed Rafe enter the kitchen, but she kept her back turned to the door to show
him that she was still miffed with him. And also to make it clear that it was
no big deal that she was making breakfast for him. Because it was definitely
for him. She wasn’t a bacon-and-eggs kind of girl, but thankfully her brother
liked them and the fridge was well stocked.

Rafe
liked them too. “Hmm, smells great,” he said, coming to the stove and snatching
a piece of bacon straight from the frying pan. She felt him stand behind her,
his body heat competing with the stove before her. She wanted to lean backwards
against his strength and have him wrap his arms around her. She just wanted to
be held, wanted
him
to hold her.

To
avoid the temptation, she stepped sideways, putting a little distance between
them. Then she turned to look at him – and completely forgot her reasons for
not acting on her attraction to him.

He had
slept in the clothes he had worn the previous evening, and had only put on a
clean t-shirt borrowed from Jack’s closet. He looked deliciously rumpled and
dishevelled; his hair was tousled, his eyes were drowsy, and stubble covered
his chin. He looked almost cuddly. Not a word she would have associated with
him before.

To get
a grip on her libido, she took the frying pan off the stove and scooped the
contents on two plates, giving most of it to Rafe. Coffee was enough for her.
Silently, they took their plates and coffee mugs to the breakfast table by the
kitchen window and settled down to eat. The view was towards the mews in the
backyard and it didn’t inspire her to dally.

“Why
won’t you date humans?”

Perhaps
it wasn’t wise to accost a man before he’d had his breakfast, but she needed to
know the truth.

Rafe
sighed and put down his knife and fork, giving her a slightly pleading look, as
if asking her to understand. “There’s no point in it. Shifters live for
centuries while humans don’t even manage a full one. The shifter’s beast is
very loyal. It takes us a very long time to get over our spouse’s death.”

His
answer was nothing she had imagined, but annoyingly, she could see his point.
“You don’t grow older either, do you?” She couldn’t imagine what that would be
like, being an old hag next to a still virile man.

“Not
until towards the end.” He resumed his breakfasting for a moment before
speaking again. “I’m simply trying to prevent heartache for both of us.”

Instead
of appeasing, his answer irritated her. “So you won’t even enjoy what good we
might have in the meantime?”

“No.”
There was no arguing with that tone, but it didn’t mean she wouldn’t try.

“And I
have no say in it?”

He
sneered. “If you want to get into my bed, you’re welcome, baby. But we both
know it’s only my body you want. You don’t have to pretend to be interested in
me simply so you can shock you parents.”

She
stiffened, her heart going cold. “I’m sorry?”

“So
you should be.” He was getting angry. “I’m sick and tired of being used by
human women who want to shock or awe people with me. If you want to get even
with your father, find some other shifter for it.”

Charly
felt queasy. Was that what he thought? “It’s not like that at all,” she
explained, upset. “I just thought that he would be impressed with you, and then
when he learned you’re a shifter, he would have to admit that he’s been wrong
about the two-natureds.” Even as she said it, she realised how naïve that
sounded. Of course Rafe would be offended.

He
only sneered in response and finished his breakfast. “I’ll go clean up. Be
ready to leave in half an hour.”

“I
think I want to go alone.”

His
face hardened. “Absolutely not. Those men were after me because of the land
transaction. I’m not letting you go out there alone.”

Charly
was horrified. Had she led the men to Rafe? Before she could ask, he had
already disappeared, leaving her no chance but to do as she was told, again.
And damn if she wasn’t starting to find it a turn-on.

Rafe drove an old Land Rover.
It wasn’t anything Charly had expected a businessman would drive. For a
construction worker she would have imagined a pickup truck of some sort. But
the car was perfect for the rough, outdoorsy wolf-shifter, although she
imagined the bike would suit him even better. He was relaxed behind the wheel
and he drove in a calm and unhurried manner, not at all aggravated by the
London traffic. It made her feel safe.

It was
amazing how he constantly managed to do that, even now that they were clearly
at odds. They had barely spoken since getting in the car. “Didn’t you say
shifters are dangerous?” she voiced the logical conclusion of her thought.
Someone so dangerous shouldn’t be able to make her feel safe.

If he
was surprised by the out of the blue question, he didn’t show it. “Only in
animal form,” he answered stiffly, still not relenting. “And even then never to
those we consider ours.”

“Well,
I’m not yours,” she pointed out, but he just snorted.

“Of
course you are.”

That
was rich. “You said humans won’t do for you.”

He
sighed and there was a visible relenting to his demeanour, indicating that his
anger was subsiding. “It’s not that simple. Shifters are in great part
creatures of instinct. Even in human form our beasts dictate much of our
actions, especially those having to do with emotions.”

She
was fascinated despite herself. “What does that mean?”

“It
means that I, the man, base my decision of not dating humans on reason, whereas
for my wolf it is an emotional decision. Its emotions have the power to
override my reasoning, so when my wolf makes up its mind about a woman, I have
no choice but to follow.”

“And
you’re saying your wolf doesn’t want me?” It hadn’t even occurred to her that
she might be dealing with a person whose thought process wasn’t like her own.

He
looked aggravated. “Not quite. It has decided you are ours to protect, so it’s
no use for me to pretend otherwise. And no use for you to fight it either,” he
added with a pointed look, indicating he knew her well enough to guess that she
would try.

Charly
wasn’t sure she liked that. It was difficult enough to be around him knowing
that once they gave in to their sexual attraction, he would be gone forever. Now
he was saying that he might not be going anywhere after all, but still wouldn’t
consider being with her. “Well, that … sucks.” Not exactly her usual style, but
words failed her.

“Yeah.”

She
didn’t want him to notice how upset she was so she turned to see how Bob was
faring in the spacious booth of the big four-wheel-drive. She watched it
observing the traffic for a while before it settled down and fell asleep. Life
was easy when you were a dog.

Since
she couldn’t stay quiet for the whole ride, she turned back to Rafe and brought
up the reason for their little trip. “We never went through the papers last
night,” she reminded him. He turned to smile at her, clearly grateful for the
change of topic.

“No,
but I skimmed through some of your notes. Midsomer murders, huh?”

Charly
almost blushed. She tended to write down every idea she got, just so she
wouldn’t limit her thinking, but usually she was the only one who saw the rough
cuts. “It was just a thought.” But that got them talking about TV and movies,
and to her relief, the mood remained light. It turned out that they liked many
of the same TV series and movies too, which actually upset her a bit. They were
suited on so many levels yet nothing would come of it. Would she ever find a
man as great as Raphael Green? Unlikely. So was she doomed to spend her life alone?
Why couldn’t he understand that for her even the short life spent together
would be better than spending it apart?

Once
they got on the A24, it was an easy ride to the village of Betchworth, on the
outskirts of which Rafe’s company had been buying land. It was a typical
English country parish, so small that one barely noticed it before the
settlement gave way to fields again, the houses built on both sides of the
narrow road that ran through it following some medieval path. Slightly sleepy,
it had all the trappings of a picturesque tourist attraction – a church with
Saxon origins and thatched cottages – without the actual tourists in sight.
Charly could actually understand why someone wouldn’t want rich commuters to
move in.

Though
not to the extent that she would have condoned the actions taken to prevent
Rafe’s company from building here. “Let’s stop by the pub and ask around,” she
suggested.

Rafe
gave her an amused look. “Poke our muzzles in where they don’t belong?”

The
reminder of the attack made her shiver, but she just nodded. “Yes. This is a
small place. I bet everyone knows who it is who doesn’t want you here.”

“But
in a small place like this, they’re not going to tell it to outsiders,” he
pointed out, and she knew he was right.

“Especially
if the entire village is working against you. We’ll just have to be cunning.”

The
only pub was in the middle of the village, a genuine country place untouched by
fashionable designers and their quest to make things look ‘authentic.’ It was a
whitewashed brick building that most likely dated back centuries, with a
slate-roof and a sign of a Bull hanging over the door that was definitely old.
Inside, however, everything was genuine 1970s: practical, easy to maintain, and
very ugly. Only the bar was old, a mahogany and brass monstrosity that ran the
length of one side of the taproom. It was worn from use, but obviously well
taken care of.

It
wasn’t lunchtime yet, but since it was Saturday a few people were gathered
there already, perhaps waiting for the only bus to the nearby town or
something. Charly wasn’t exactly familiar with the country life.

Conversation
halted when she and Rafe entered; everyone turned to stare at them. Charly had
dressed in what she thought were practical clothes for a country sojourn:
jeans, a classical Barbour wax jacket, and riding boots. Rafe’s clothing was
similar, except he was wearing hiking boots, but he had actually used his
clothes regularly and so looked like he belonged. She looked like what she was,
a city dweller.

She
didn’t mind the raised eyebrows and silent glances and just gave everyone a
friendly smile. “Hello. I was wondering if someone could help me and my
husband,” she chirped like some featherbrained socialite. “He’s very much into
fly-fishing, you see, and we found this
amazing
creek when we were
driving around. But now we can’t find anyone to ask if he can fish there.” She
didn’t dare look at Rafe to see how he reacted to her new persona or his status
as her husband. At least he wasn’t laughing aloud.

Silence
met her question, but she was undeterred. During her pupillage in a barrister’s
chamber, she had often fished for information under some assumed persona. She
walked to the bar where a potbellied middle-aged man with a receding hairline
was polishing glasses. She leaned against the bar and felt Rafe at her back,
pressing lightly against her, lending credence to her claim that they were
married. Or taking advantage of it, as he placed a kiss at her temple just
then. It was very distracting and it took a moment for her to get back to her
role.

She
thought it was best to order something, and so they asked for half pints of
lager. She didn’t actually like the taste of it, but it was all for the cause.
She smiled again. “Perhaps you, as the landlord of this fine establishment, are
the most knowledgeable about these things,” she flattered shamelessly. Behind
her, Rafe snorted silently and she resisted an urge to elbow him.

The
landlord frowned and Charly feared she would actually have to resort to batting
her eyelashes. She wasn’t above using feminine wiles when necessary – as she
had a couple of times in court, even – but she feared she was overacting as it
was.

He
harrumphed. “Yes, well, there’s a bit of confusion about the ownership of that
creek. But there’s no fish in it anyway, so there’s no need to find the owner.”

There
went that theory then.

Rafe
felt her disappointment when her shoulders slumped, and he took over. “Oh, it’s
not the fish, it’s the scenery and the atmosphere of the place,” he said
affably. “Are you sure you couldn’t find out?” As he spoke, he handed a note to
the landlord, presumably to pay for the drinks, but he made a small gesture to
indicate that the man could keep the rest. Expensive lager, if she saw the
denomination correctly.

The
landlord took the money swiftly. “I think there’s someone who knows. But he
won’t be here until in the afternoon. You should come back then.”

They
thanked him, took their drinks to a table nearest to the window overlooking the
road, and spent a few futile minutes trying to engage locals into a
conversation. Apparently, the jolly old countryside didn’t exist anymore.
Frustrated, they didn’t finish their drinks and left, telling the landlord they
would definitely be back that afternoon after checking the creek again.

“That
didn’t go well,” Charly sighed once they were back in the car. Bob hadn’t woken
up the whole time they were away and was still in the car, even though they had
left the back flap open for it. They contemplated taking it for a walk and
engaging locals in conversation over its cuddly form, but they didn’t want to
wake it up.

Rafe
turned to smile at her, the amusement he had felt for her little act clear on
his face. “I wouldn’t say that. There might actually be someone meeting us when
we return. In the meanwhile, we might as well go to see the place ourselves.”

As
they wove through narrow country lanes to their destination, Rafe told her
about his clan. “Greenwood clan is the largest wolf clan and one of the most
important shifter clans in the greater London area. Only a leopard clan in
Greenwich is more important than us.”

Charly
listened, fascinated. She visited the beautiful Greenwich often, but it had
never occurred to her that shifters lived there. She was a typical human.
Two-natureds simply weren’t something she even considered in her circles.

“There
are smaller predatory clans in London that are influential too, but they tend
to squabble with each other, which prevents them from rising to true
greatness.”

The
fight from the previous night rose vividly to her mind and she turned to look
at him. “Is it always so violent among shifters?”

His
face turned grim. “Surprisingly seldom. There are rules governing the
interaction between individual shifters and clans that keep things civilised.
No … yesterday was a hired hit.”

Charly
felt queasy. “Because of my investigation?” She tried to remember who she had
talked to, but they had all been nameless clerks.

He
reached out a hand and squeezed her arm reassuringly. “No, it was for buying
the land in the first place.”

“So
there are shifters in that village who don’t want you there?” Until the night
before, she had only considered human operators, but now a whole variety of
possibilities was opening up for her investigation.

“That’s
just it. There aren’t.” He sounded frustrated.

Charly
mulled over this new information for a few moments. “Is it widely known that
your company is owned by shifters?”

“What
do you mean?”

“Well,
humans are, in general, prejudiced against your kind, but most of the time we
simply ignore you. But with the debates going on in the Parliament, your
existence has been brought to the fore again. Perhaps the villagers fear that
there will be shifters moving into the new houses and they don’t want that.”

Rafe
nodded. “That’s a very good possibility, and would explain the timing of the
attack too. But would they hire shifters to do their dirty work if they dislike
us so much?”

“Who
else? Humans definitely wouldn’t be able to take you down.” Not without a
weapon of some kind, anyway. The thought made shivers run down her spine.

Rafe
acknowledged it with a smug grin. He pulled over by the road next to an old
meadow that had been left to grow wild. They were in the middle of nowhere, the
nearest farmhouses only small dots in the distance. They exited the car and
released Bob, letting it run free, and it took a full advantage of the
opportunity, disappearing into the long grass with happy barks.

They
let themselves into the meadow through a broken gate, from which an overgrown
footpath led towards a small crop of woods. The creek ran through the woods to
a small lake a little farther away.

“We’ll
be building four or five cottage-style houses on both sides of the creek,” Rafe
explained as they went. “They’ll be large and expensive, with enough space
around each house to provide privacy, and with great views over that lake.” He
gestured towards the distant glimmer of water. “So far the farmers have
cooperated nicely. They are old and haven’t had anyone to continue the farming.
It’s the last piece of land, the one with the creek and the forest, that’s been
troublesome.”

Charly
had studied the maps, but it was much better seeing the real thing. “It’s
beautiful here,” she sighed, taking in the undulating meadows around the small
lake and the woods, spectacular in the red and gold colours of autumn.

“Yes,
it is,” Rafe said, but when she turned to look at him, he wasn’t watching the
scenery but her. Her heart missed a beat. Why did he look her like that if he
didn’t want her?

She
cleared her throat, suddenly hot all over despite the crisp October weather.
“I’m guessing you’re in a great hurry to start building,” she said, stubbornly
continuing with the topic. She wouldn’t give him anything of herself if he
didn’t want everything.

He
flashed his wolfish grin. “When you live long enough, you know you can afford
to wait.”