A Wolf in Sheep's Clothing (9 page)

Nathan's bedroom was done in darker colors—rust, burnt sienna and black. The four-poster bed was huge and flanked by a tall, equally old-fashioned piece of furniture that Harry assumed must hold his clothes. The other side of the room was taken up by a rolltop desk. The oak floor was mantled with a bearskin rug. Of course there were windows, wide, clear windows that brought the sky and the mountains inside.

Nathan had pillows piled behind his shoulders and an equally large number under his left foot.

She took a step into his bedroom. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Just leave me alone. I'll manage fine.”

“Your home is lovely. You show a lot of promise as an architect,” she said with a halting smile.

“It turned out all right,” he said. “As soon as it was built, I thought of a dozen things I could have done better.”

She didn't feel comfortable encroaching farther into his bedroom, so she leaned back against the doorway. “You'll make all those improvements next time.”

“A sheepman doesn't have the leisure time to be designing houses,” he said brusquely.

“Actually, you're going to have quite a bit of free time over the next couple of weeks,” she replied. “The vet gave orders for you to stay in bed. By the way, I haven't seen your housekeeper. Do you expect her back soon?”

“In about a month,” Nathan said. “She left right after I got home to visit her granddaughter, Sage Littlewolf, on the reservation up near Great Falls.”

“Do you suppose she'd come back if she knew—”

“Yes, she would. Which is why I have no intention of contacting her. There's some problem with her granddaughter that needs settling. She's gone there to settle it. I'll manage.”

Harry marched over to stand at Nathan's bedside. “How do you intend to get along without any help?”

“It's not your problem.”

“I'm making it my problem.”

“Look, Harry-et, I don't need your help—”

“You need help,” she interrupted. “You can't walk.”

“I'll use crutches.”

“With your right arm in a sling?”

“I'll hop.”

“What if you fall?”

“I won't.”

“But if you do—”

“I'll get back up. I don't need you here, Harry-et. I don't want you here. I don't think I can say it any plainer than that.”

“I'm staying. Put that in your pipe and smoke it, Mr. Hazard.” Harry turned and headed for the door.

“Harry-et, come back here! Harry-et!”

She kept on marching all the way downstairs until she stood in his immaculate, perfectly antique kitchen, trying to decide what she should make for his supper.

Nathan spent the first few minutes after Harry left the room, proving he could get to the bathroom on his own. With his father's cane in his left hand he was able to hobble a little. But it was an awkward and painful trip, to say the least. He couldn't imagine trying to get up and down the stairs to feed himself. Of course, he could sleep downstairs on the couch, but that would put the closest bathroom too far away for comfort.

By the time Harry showed up with a bowl of
chicken noodle soup on a wicker lap tray, Nathan was willing to concede that he needed someone to bring his meals. But only for a day or so until he could get up and and down stairs more easily.

“All right, Harry-et,” he said, “you win. I'll send a man to take care of your place for the next couple of days so you can play nursemaid.”

“Thank you for admitting you need help. I, on the other hand, can manage just fine on my own.”

“Look, Harry-et, be reasonable. There's no sense exhausting yourself trying to handle two things at once.”

“I
like
exhausting myself,” Harry said contrarily. “I feel like I've accomplished something. And I'm quite good at managing three or four things at once, if you want to know the truth.”

“Stop being stubborn and let me help.”

“That's the pot calling the kettle black,” she retorted.

“Have it your way, then,” he said sullenly.

“Thank you. I will. I'll be back in a little while to collect your soup bowl. Be sure it's empty.” She stopped on her way out the door and added, “I'll be sleeping on the couch downstairs. That way you can call if you need me during the night.”

Nathan was lying back with his eyes closed when Harry returned for the dinner tray he'd set aside. She sat down carefully beside him on the bed, so as not to wake him. He was breathing
evenly, and since she believed him to be asleep, she risked checking his forehead to see if he had a fever. Just as she was brushing a lock of blond hair out of the way, his eyes blinked open. She saw the pain before he thought to hide it from her.

She finished her motion, letting it be the caress it had started out as when she'd thought he was asleep. “I was checking to see if you have a fever.”

“I don't.”

“You do.”

He didn't argue. Which was all the proof she needed that he wasn't a hundred percent. “Doc Witley left some aspirin. He said you might need it for the pain. Do you?”

“No.”

She sighed. “I'll leave two on the bedside table with a glass of water, just in case.”

He grabbed her wrist as she was rising from the bed to keep her from leaving. “Harry-et.”

“What is it, Nathan?”

The words stuck in his throat, but at last he got them out. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome, Nathan. I—”

Harry was interrupted by a commotion downstairs. “What on earth—” Someone was coming up, taking the stairs two at a time.

“Hey, Nathan,” a masculine voice shouted, “heard you slipped and landed flat on your ass—” Luke stopped abruptly when he saw Harry
Alistair standing beside Nathan. “Sorry about the language, ma'am.” He tipped his hat in apology. “Didn't know there was a lady present.”

“How on earth did you find out what happened?” Harry asked. “I swear I haven't been near a phone—”

“No phone is as fast as gossip in the West,” Luke said with a grin. “I'm here to see if there's anything I can do to help out.”

Nathan opened his mouth to respond and then closed it again, staring pointedly at Harry.

“I was just taking this downstairs,” she said, grabbing Nathan's dinner tray. “I'll leave you two alone.” She hurried from Nathan's bedroom, closing the door behind her.

Luke turned back to Nathan and waggled his eyebrows. “Should have known you wouldn't spend your time in bed all alone.”

“Watch what you say, Luke,” Nathan warned. “You're talking about a lady.”

“So that's the way the wind blows.”

“Harry-et is only here as a nurse.”

“One of the hired hands could nurse you,” Luke pointed out.

“She refuses to leave, so she might as well do some good while she's here,” Nathan said defensively.

“Who's going to take care of her place while she's taking care of you?”

Nathan grimaced. “I offered to have one of my hands help her out. She insists on doing everything herself. Look, Luke, I'd appreciate it if you'd look in on her over the next couple of days. Make sure she doesn't overdo it.”

“Sure, Nathan. I'd be glad to.”

“I'd really appreciate it. You see, Harry-et just doesn't know when to quit.”

“Sounds a lot like my Abby.”

“Your Abby?”

“Abigail Dayton and I got engaged yesterday.”

“I thought you hadn't seen her since she caught that renegade wolf and headed back home to Helena.”

“Well, I hadn't. Until yesterday. I figured life is too short to live it without the woman you love. I was already headed over here to give you the big news when I heard about your accident.”

Nathan reached out and grasped Luke's hand. “I really envy you. When's the wedding?”

Luke grinned wryly. “As soon as my best man is back on his feet again. You'd better make it quick, because Abby's pregnant.”

Harry heard Nathan's whoop at the same time she heard the front door knocker. She didn't know which one to check out first. Since the door was closer, she hurried to open it.

“Hi! I'm Hattie Mumford. You must be Harry Alistair. I'm pleased to meet you. I brought one of
my apple spice cakes for Nathan. Thought it might cheer him up. Can I see him?”

The door knocker rattled again.

“Oh, you get the door, dear,” Hattie said. “I know the way upstairs.”

Harry just barely resisted the urge to race up ahead of Hattie to warn Nathan what was coming. The knocker rapped again. She waited to answer it because Luke was skipping down the stairs.

“Is he all right?” Harry asked anxiously. “I heard him holler.”

Luke grinned. “Nathan was just celebrating the news of my engagement and forthcoming marriage to Abigail Dayton.”

“You and Abigail?” Harry smiled. “How wonderful. Congratulations!”

“You'd better get that door,” Luke said. “I'll just let myself out the back way.”

Harry opened the door to a middle-aged couple.

“I'm Babs Sinclair and this is my husband, Harve. We just heard the bad news about Nathan. Thought he might enjoy my macaroni-and-cheese casserole. I'll just take this into the kitchen. Harve, why don't you go up and check on Nathan.”

For want of something better to do, Harry followed Babs Sinclair into the kitchen. The woman slipped the casserole into the oven and turned on the heat. Harry didn't have the heart to tell her Nathan had already eaten his supper.

“You better get some coffee on the stove, young'un,” Babs said. “If I know my Harve, he'll—”

“Babs,” a voice shouted down from the loft, “send some coffee up here, will you?”

The door knocker rapped.

“You better get that, young'un. I'll take care of making the coffee.”

For the next three hours neighbors dropped by to leave tokens of their concern for Nathan Hazard. Besides the apple spice cake and the macaroni-and-cheese casserole, Nathan had been gifted with a loaf of homemade bread and a crock of newly made butter, magazines, and a deck of cards. The game of checkers was only on loan and had to be returned once Nathan was well. Harry met more people that evening than in the nearly four months since she'd moved to the Boulder River Valley.

What she hadn't realized until Hattie Mumford mentioned it was that her neighbors had been waiting for her to indicate that she was ready for company. They would never have thought to intrude on her solitude without an invitation. Now that Harry was acquainted with her neighbors, Hattie assured her they would all make it a point to come calling.

Over the next few weeks as she nursed Nathan, Harry was blessed with innumerable visits from the sheep ranchers of Sweet Grass County. They
always turned up when she was busy with chores and managed to stay long enough to see them finished. She found herself the recipient of one of Hattie's apple spice cakes. And she thoroughly enjoyed Babs Sinclair's macaroni-and-cheese casserole.

It never occurred to her, not once in all the propitious visits when she'd been exhausted and a neighbor had arrived to provide succor, that while she'd been acting as Nathan's hostess in the kitchen, he'd been upstairs entreating, encouraging and exhorting his friends and neighbors to keep an eye out for her while he was confined to his bed.

So when Harry overheard Hattie and Babs talking about how she was a lucky woman to have Nathan Hazard
taking care of her,
she began asking a few questions.

When Nathan woke up the next morning and stretched with the sunrise, he yelped in surprise at the sight that greeted him at the foot of his bed.

N
athan wasn't a good patient. He simply had no experience in the role. He was used to being the caretaker. He didn't know how to let somebody take care of him. Harry bore the brunt of his irascibility. Well, that wasn't exactly true. Nathan
had more than once provoked an argument and found himself shouting at thin air. Over the three weeks he'd spent recuperating, he'd learned that Harry picked her fights.

So when he woke up to find her standing at the foot of his bed, fists on hips, brown eyes flashing, jaw clamped tight to still a quivering chin, he knew he was in trouble.

“I have tried to be understanding,” she said hoarsely. “But this time you've gone too far.”

“I haven't left this bed for three weeks,” he protested.

“You know what I mean. I found out what you did, Nathan. There's no sense trying to pretend you didn't do it.”

Nathan stared at her, completely nonplussed. “If I had the vaguest idea what you're talking about, Harry-et—”

“I'm talking about what you said to Hattie Mumford and Babs and Harve Sinclair and Luke Granger and all the other neighbors who've been showing up at my place over the past three weeks to
help
me. How could you?” she cried. “How could you?”

Harry turned her back on him and walked over to the window to look out at the mountains. “I thought you understood how important it was to me to manage on my own,” she said in an agonized voice.

She swiped the tears away, then turned back to face him. “Do you know how many times over the past three weeks I've let you do something for yourself, knowing it was more than you could handle? Sometimes you surprised me and managed on your own. More often you needed my help. But I never offered it until you asked, Nathan. I respected your right to decide for yourself just how much you could handle.

“That's all I ever wanted, Nathan. The same respect I was willing to give to you.” Her lips curled as she spit out, “Equal partners. You have no concept of what that means. Until you do, you're going to have a hard time finding a woman to
share
your life.”

As she whirled and fled the room, Nathan shouted, “Harry-et! Wait!” He shoved the covers out of the way and hit the floor with both feet.

Harry was halfway down the stairs when she heard him fall. She paused, waiting for the muttered curse that would mean he was all right. When it didn't come, she turned and ran back up the stairs as fast as she could. He was lying facedown on the bearskin rug, his right arm hugged tightly to his body. She fell onto her knees beside him, her hands racing over him, checking the pulse at his throat. “Nathan. Oh, God. Please be all right. I—”

An instant later he grasped her wrist and pulled
her down beside him. A moment after that he had her under him and was using the weight of his body to hold her down. “Stop bucking like that,” he rasped. “You're liable to throw my shoulder out again.”

“You'll be lucky if that's all the damage I do,” she snapped back. She shoved at his chest with both hands and knew she'd hurt him when his lips drew back over his teeth.

“That's it.” He caught both of her hands in one of his and clamped them to the floor above her head. With his other hand he captured her chin and made her look at him. “Are you going to listen to me, or not?”

“I don't know anything you could say—”

“Shut up and let me talk!”

She pressed her lips into a flat, uncompromising line and glared at him.

“I want another chance,” he began. She opened her mouth, and he silenced her with a hard kiss. “Uh-uh,” he said. “Don't interrupt, or I'll have to kiss you again.”

She narrowed her eyes but said nothing.

“I've listened to every word you've ever said to me since I met you, but I never really heard what you were saying. Until just now. I'm sorry, Harry-et. You'll never know how sorry. I guess the truth is, I didn't want you to be able to manage on your own.”

“Why not?” she cried.

He swallowed hard as he released her hands. “I wanted you to need me.” He paused. “I wanted you to love me.”

“Oh, Nathan. I do. I—”

He kissed her hard to shut her up so that he could finish, but somehow her lips softened under his. Her tongue found the seam of his lips and slipped inside and searched so gently, so sweetly, that he groaned and returned the favor. It was a long time before he came to his senses.

“So, will you give me another chance?” he asked.

She smiled. “Will you call off your neighbors?”

“Done. I have one more question to ask.”

“I'm listening.”

“Will you marry me?”

The smile faded from her lips and worry lines furrowed her brow. “I do love you, Nathan, but…”

“But you won't marry me,” he finished tersely.

“Not right now. Not yet.”

“When?”

“When I've proved I can manage on my own,” she said simply. “And when I'm sure you've learned what it means to be an equal partner.”

“But—”

She put her fingertips on his lips to silence him. “Let's not talk any more right now, Nathan. There are other things I'd rather be doing with you.” She
suited deed to word and let her fingers wander over his face in wonder. To the tiny crow's-feet at the corners of his eyes. To the deep slashes on either side of his mouth. To the bristled cheeks that needed shaving.

“Smile for me, Harry-et.”

It was harder than she'd thought it would be. She had just turned down a proposal of marriage from a man she loved. Harry told herself she'd done the right thing. If she'd said yes, she would never have known how much she could accomplish by herself. When she sold her lambs in the fall and paid off the bank, then she'd know for sure. Then, if Nathan held to his promise to treat her as an equal, she could marry him. That was certainly something she could smile about.

Nathan watched the smile begin at the corners of her mouth. Then her lower lip rounded and her upper lip curved, revealing the space between her two front teeth that he found so enchanting. He captured her mouth and searched for that enticing space with his tongue, tracing it, and then the roof of her mouth, and the soft underskin of her upper lip. Then his teeth closed gently over her lower lip and nibbled before his tongue sought the honeyed recesses of her mouth once more.

Harry groaned with pleasure. She wasn't an anxious virgin now. She knew what was coming. Her body responded to the memories of Nathan's
lovemaking that had never been far from her mind over the past month since they'd made love. But she saw the flash of pain when Nathan tried to raise himself on his arms. And that took away all the pleasure for her.

“Nathan. Stop. I think we should wait until your shoulder's better before—”

He rolled over onto his back and positioned her on his belly, with her legs on either side of him. “There. Now my shoulder will be fine.”

“But how…”

His hands cupped her breasts through her shirt, his thumbs teasing the nipples into hard buds. “Use your imagination, sweetheart. Do whatever feels right to you.”

Harry smiled. Nathan wasn't wearing a shirt. She took both of his hands and laid them beside him on the bearskin rug. “Don't move. Until I say you can.”

Then she leaned over and circled his nipple with her tongue. His gasp widened her grin of delight. Her fingertips traced the faint traces of bruise that were the only remaining signs that he'd dislocated his shoulder. Her lips soothed where her fingers had been. She traced the length of his neck with kisses and nipped the lobe of his ear. Then her tongue traced the rim of his ear, and she whispered two words she'd never thought she'd say out loud to a man. She saw his pulse jump, felt his breath
halt. The guttural sound in his throat was raw, filled with need.

His hands clutched her waist and pulled her hard against him, but she sat up abruptly. “You're not playing by the rules, Nathan,” she chastised, placing his hands palm down on the floor. “No touching.” She smiled a wanton, delicious smile and added, “Yet.”

She felt his hardness growing beneath her and rubbed herself against him through his jeans.

“Harry-et,” he groaned. “You're killing me. Whatever you do, just don't stop,” he rasped.

Harry laughed at his nonsensical request. She reached down and cupped him with her hand, and felt his whole body tighten like a bowstring. Her exploration was gentle but thorough. By the time she was done, Nathan was arched off the floor, his lower lip clenched in his teeth.

“Have I ever told you what a gorgeous man you are, Nathan?”

“No,” he gasped.

“You are. These high cheekbones.” She kissed each one tenderly. “This stubborn chin.” She nipped it with her teeth. “Those blue, blue eyes of yours.” She closed them with her fingertips and anointed them with kisses. She moved down his body, her fingertips tracing the ridges and curves of his masculine form, her mouth following to praise without words.

With every caress Harry gave Nathan she felt herself blossom as a woman. She wanted a chance to return the pleasure he'd given her on Nyla's Meadow. She unsnapped his jeans and slowly pulled the zipper down. She started to pull his jeans off, then paused. Her hand slipped into his pockets one by one. Right front. Left front. Right rear. In the left rear pocket she found what she was looking for. “My, my,” she said, holding out what she'd found. “Mr. Prophylactic.”

“I don't know how that got there,” Nathan protested.

“Just thank goodness it was and shut up,” Harry said with a laugh. She dropped the condom onto the bearskin nearby and finished dragging Nathan's jeans down, pulling off his briefs along with them, leaving him naked. And aroused.

She couldn't take her eyes off him. She certainly couldn't keep her hands off him. She opened the condom and sheathed him with it, taking her time, arousing him, teasing him, taunting him.

Nathan had reached his limit. He grasped Harry-et's shirt and ripped the buttons free. Her jeans didn't fare much better. He had her naked in under nine seconds and impaled her in ten. She was slick and wet and tight. “You feel so good, Harry-et. Let me love you, sweetheart.”

Harry felt languorous. Her body surged against Nathan's. He put a hand between them, increasing
the tension she felt as he sought out the source of her desire. When she leaned over, he captured her breast in his mouth and suckled her. Sensations assaulted her: pleasure, desire, and her body's pulsing demand for release.

“Nathan,” she gasped.

His mouth found hers as his hands captured her hips. They moved together, man and woman, part and counterpart, equal to equal.

Harry clutched Nathan's waist, arching toward the precipice, reaching for the satisfaction that was just beyond her reach.

Nathan felt her tensing, felt her fight against release. “Let go, sweetheart. It's all right. Soar. Back to Nyla's Meadow, darling. We can go there together.”

Then it was too late for words. She was rushing toward satisfaction. Nathan stayed with her, his face taut with the passion raging within him. She cried out, and he thrust again. A harsh sound rose from deep in his throat as he released his seed.

Harry felt the tears coming and was helpless to stop them. They stung her cheeks, hot and wet. Nathan felt them against his face and raised his head in disbelief.

“Harry-et?”

She reached a hand up to brush the golden locks from his brow. “It's all right, Nathan. I just felt so…overwhelmed for a moment.”

He pulled her into his arms and held her tightly. “You have to marry me Harry-et. I love you. I want to keep you safe.”

Harry buried her face in his shoulder. “I love you, Nathan, but it scares me.”

“How so?”

“It's taken me a long time to get the courage to strike out on my own. I've hardly had a chance to try my wings.”

“We'll learn to fly together, Harry-et.”

What she couldn't explain, what she hardly understood herself, was her fear of surrendering her newfound control over her life. Nathan needed to be needed. She loved him enough to do anything she could to make him happy. That gave him a great deal of power. She simply had to find a way to accept his gestures of loving concern…and still keep the independence she was fighting so hard to achieve.

A knock on the door sent them both scrambling for their clothes.

“That'll be Luke,” Nathan said as he yanked on his jeans. “I told him I wanted to talk over the plans for his bachelor party.”

“Abigail's likely to be with him,” Harry said as she tied her buttonless shirt in a knot. “I wanted to make sure it's all right with her to plan a combination bridal/baby shower.”

They finished dressing at almost the same time, then stood grinning at each other.

“Shall we go greet our guests?” Nathan asked.

“I'm ready.”

Harry fitted herself against Nathan as he slipped his arm around her shoulder for support. It took them a while to get downstairs, but Nathan had already shouted at Luke to let himself in and make himself at home. Sure enough, when they reached the living room, they found that Abigail was with him. After exchanging greetings, Nathan and Luke settled down in the living room while Harry and Abigail headed for the kitchen.

Luke waited only long enough for the two women to disappear before he asked, “Did you ask her?”

“Yep.”

“So?”

“She said she'd think about it.”

“For how long?”

Nathan thrust a hand through his hair in frustration. “She didn't give me a definite timetable. But at least until she sells her lambs in the fall.”