TheWolfInside (6 page)

Her cheeks
heated, and she pulled free of his grasp and stepped into the bathroom without
saying a word.

What the
hell was he talking about? She wasn’t important in the least – even if
she could afford a vacation like that. He could probably tell she was pushing
thirty, and she wasn’t some virgin. But she’d never shared a bed with a
stranger like that – not unless she met him in a bar and had too many
glasses of wine to know better.

Eva splashed
some water on her face and frowned at her reflection. The dark hair, pulled
back into a tight ponytail, was damp at the sides. It clung to her golden skin.
Her full cheeks were pink, and her brown eyes were lined with dark circles.

She did look
tired.

Damn.

Then her stomach
grumbled.

“Hungry?”
Ewan called from outside the door.

How did he
hear it? She glowered and applied a new layer of lipstick. “I want to eat at a
restaurant,” she said as she stepped out.

“I thought
you would, lass. Come along then.”

He led her
down the street to a tiny café with big windows and little, blood red chairs.
They settled inside, and he ordered them both a rich steak. The server brought
them more bread than Eva had eaten in years. A little dish of butter glinted at
the side, taunting her.

Ewan also
ordered wine – lots of it.

She scowled.
“I just wanted a salad.”

He raised an
eyebrow and a chuckle rumbled in his chest. “I’m sure you did, lass. Just a
salad,” he said with a wink.

Great. Even
her own tour guide was making fun of her now. Well, Eva didn’t have to put up
with that. Not on her grand adventure. First he cancelled her hotel
reservations, now this? It was too much!

“I don’t
have to listen to your ridicule,” she said and threw her napkin on the table.
“Yes. I only wanted a salad, not your fattening steak. Just because I’m
overweight, doesn’t mean I eat food like that all the time.”

She turned
to storm out of the restaurant. The other patrons stared, but she tried to
ignore them. Then a strong hand clamped on her arm and held her in place.

“That’s not
what I meant. But I think you’ll like their food. If you’re in Paris, you can
indulge a little, right lass?”

He didn’t
smile, and his blue eyes were light and pleading.

Eva’s heart
slammed in her chest, and she wanted to do anything except sit back down. But
storming out now seemed like a silly thing to do, especially when he looked
sincere. Maybe she just misunderstood. Jetlagged and all.

“I’m sorry
to offend you, Eva,” his fingers slipped over her skin, and she slowly took her
seat again.

Then he
gulped a glass of wine and frowned. Was he trying to play her? Or was he
honestly sorry? “I accept your apology.”

His hand
slid off her arm, and he smiled. “What brings you to this side of the pond?
Sightseeing?”

Eva shrugged
and took a small bite of the bread. It melted in her mouth like heaven. “Who
doesn’t want to go on a trip to Europe?”

His eyes
sparkled. “Most people don’t come alone, unless they’re young men. Women your
age usually have a travel companion of some kind.”

She twisted
the napkin in her lap and took another sip of wine. “Well, all my friends had
to work.”

“And you
didn’t have a boyfriend to come with you either?” he put in.

She took a
larger bite of bread and chewed. Anything to avoid answering that question.
“No. Not at the moment.”

“Good,” he
said, but his voice dropped, almost into a growl.

Eva glowered
at him. “Well, I’m so happy to oblige you.”

He ran his
tongue over his lips, like he tasted the air. “I’m sure you are. I didn’t mean
any offense, lass. But if you’re single, it makes everything so much easier. No
one to get jealous, you see.”

“Jealous of
what?” Eva asked, eyeing the butter.

Ewan only
smiled, and the waiter set down their food. He didn’t bother answering her. She
pouted until she took the first bite of her steak. It melted in her mouth,
perfectly flavorful, and she couldn’t help the sound that slipped off her lips.
She usually only made that sound in bed.

“Do you
enjoy it?” he asked with a mischievous smirk.

Eva nodded.
She couldn’t deny it now.

“I thought
you would.”

It was the
best steak she’d ever tried, but she wasn’t going to tell him that. As they
ate, he kept an eye on her, licking his lips from time to time. He sipped his
wine, and her cheeks flushed under his intense gaze.

“Dessert?”
he asked when she was finished. The steak was smaller than ones served in
America, but she didn’t want to seem like a pig.

“I’m full,
actually.”

Ewan ignored
her. He waved down the waiter and ordered something. Chocolate was the only
word she caught.

“I said I
was full,” Eva repeated with a frown.

“And I know
you’re lying, lass. You love chocolate, even if you don’t want to admit it.
Trust me, you’ll love this more than the steak,” he said with a wink.

She wanted
to huff and walk out, but she still needed to pay for the meal. He probably
expected her to pay for his food too, the bastard. Just because he was handsome
as all hell, he thought he could get away with anything. He was probably just
paying for the hotel to get her to drop her guard. Then he’d let her pony up
the expense for everything else. Eva had met plenty of men like him, and she
scowled at the thought.

Hell, this
whole thing could be a scam, and she didn’t even know it. Maybe he wasn’t even
her real tour guide to begin with. She’d call the agency as soon as she was
alone, just to make sure.

 “You
don’t always know what’s best for me,” she grumbled and fingered her napkin.

“And do you
know what’s best for you, lass?” he asked.

Eva gaped.
No one had ever asked her that before. Everyone always assumed they knew what
was best, and her feelings or thoughts didn’t make a difference at all. Like
how her mother remarried right after her father died. That rich bastard of a
stepfather and his perfect children sneered at her every chance they got. Her
mother was worse.

You’ll
get an MBA, Evangeline. It’s not like you’ll find a man to support you
. Eva bristled under the memory.

“How dare
you!” she said, and swallowed the sharp pricks threatening her eyes.

“How dare I
what?”

“Of course I
know what’s best for me,” she huffed. “I’ve always known.” But no one had ever
given her the chance to do anything about it.

He raised an
eyebrow. “Do you now?”

“Yes. Yes I
do. Why? What do you think is best for me?”

“I am,” he
said, like it was a matter-of-fact.

She flushed,
and the waiter set down their dessert – a rich chocolate cake with lush
mousse frosting. Eva didn’t know what to say, and Ewan lifted a bite to her
lips.

Her mouth
dropped open at his words, and she took the bite. It was just as delicious as
the steak, but that didn’t matter. Not when he was being so rude about
everything. He was best for her? Maybe in the bedroom, but no way in hell would
he be a good match for Eva otherwise. Ewan McLane was too damn bossy for one.

He took a
bite after she did, a dangerous smile on his lips. “See? I knew you’d enjoy
it.”

She licked
her lips and finished her wine. “Fine. You have the rest.”

“Just one
more bite. Come on. Open wide.”

Eva wanted
to say something, but his eyes held her. And the chocolate made her mouth
water. She took the second bite and swallowed. Then she pulled out her wallet,
but he waved his hand over it.

“I’ll get
it,” he said with a smile.

“But. . .”
Eva started.

He didn’t
let her finish. Ewan handed the waiter a few Euros and led her outside. They
stepped into the light drizzle, and Ewan held his coat over her head.

As they
walked back to the little hotel, a man stepped out of an alley. He was the same
height as Ewan, and a long scar ran down his cheek and over his lip. Greasy
black hair fell over his forehead, and he grinned. His teeth were sharp and
nasty.

Was he some
kind of bum?

Eva clutched
her purse and frowned.

The man said
something in French, and Ewan stood in front of her and bared his teeth.

While she
didn’t understand what they were talking about, the body language was
understandable. The greasy man took a step forward and sneered at them. His
hooked nose caught the light, and he fixed a bright eye on Eva.

She thought
he said ‘bella’, which meant beautiful, but Eva knew she probably heard him wrong.
No stranger was going to call her beautiful unless he was trying to get into
her pants. And why would a bum try to flirt with her when she was already with
another man? Unless he thought Ewan was too for her. The greasy man might.

Suddenly,
the bum lunged forward, and Ewan caught the man by the arms and slammed him
against the wall. The bricks cracked under the assault, and the greasy man
huffed.

Ewan
growled.

Eva’s hands
trembled and she reached for her cell. She needed to call the police! But she didn’t
know the emergency number in Paris. Dammit! What was she supposed to do?

The black
haired man punched Ewan, and her tour guide flew back and slid across the
ground. How strong was this stranger?

“What do you
want?” she muttered. Eva stumbled back, tripping over the cobblestones, and
almost fell into a puddle.

“You,
bella
mademoiselle
,” the man said and smiled. His teeth looked sharp in the
streetlights.

He reached
for her. His nails were long and caked with dirt, almost like they were claws.
She wanted to turn and run, but her breath caught in her throat and her feet
wouldn’t move. She may have lived in New York her whole life, but that didn’t
mean she’d been attacked like this.

“I am going
to make you mine,” the man growled in a thick French accent.

Eva’s heart
felt like it was going to choke her, and she glanced at the ground where Ewan
fell, but he was gone. Did he run off?

Great! Just
what she needed on her first day in Paris!

Then Ewan
leapt from the shadows. He and the greasy man skidded across the cobblestone
ground, rolling and punching at each other in a frenzy Eva could hardly keep
straight. She glanced around, but no one was on the street. They were totally
alone out there!

She turned
to run back to the restaurant. Maybe they could call for help, if she could
explain what was happening, but Ewan stood up suddenly.

His shirt
was ripped, and a dribble of blood ran down his chin. His blue eyes seemed to
glow in the darkness.

The bum lay
still on the ground.

“Is he
dead?” she whispered.

“Knocked
out. Come on,” he said and grabbed her arm, pulling her down the street.

“Shouldn’t
we call someone?” she asked, stumbling after him. Tomorrow, she’d wear tennis
shoes and not heels.

“No. That
won’t be necessary, lass. The police won’t be able to do a thing anyway.”

“But he just
attacked us. They can’t lock someone up for that?” What kind of country was
France if that kind of behavior didn’t land someone in jail?

He smiled,
grimly. “Oh, they could lock him up, but it wouldn’t do much good.”

Her mind reeled,
but she didn’t ask any further questions.
Maybe the police in Paris weren’t
good at their job
, she thought. Plus, her brain felt too bleary to think
straight.

They got
back to the room, and Ewan let her shower first, although he was injured. She
washed as quickly as possible, and pulled on her over-sized pajamas before she
stepped out of the room.

He stood
next to the window. His silhouette was dark against the dim glow of Paris below
them. Ewan turned when he heard her.

“I’ll be
quick. Don’t leave the room under any circumstances,” he said and stepped into
the bathroom.

Doubt clawed
at her mind, and Eva waited until the water started before she pulled out her
smart phone with trembling fingers. He may have rescued her from that bum, but
there was something strange about him. Something she couldn’t put her finger
on.

She called
the tour agency, but she only got a recording. Dammit! They were based in
Europe so they’d be closed this late at night. Of course. She’d just have to
leave a message instead.

“This is Eva
Barns,” she whispered into her phone. “I’m wondering if you can give me a call
about my tour guide, Ewan McLane. We were attacked by a homeless man in Paris
tonight and I want to make sure everything is, um, under control. Thank you.
Please give me a call back as soon as possible.”