Her Wanted Wolf (25 page)

Accept and forget? It would be the easiest route to take. Even now, with
the flesh between her thighs still throbbing to remind her that they’d mated
through the night, her vow to her father intruded. It opened cracks in the
cocoon she’d insulated herself in as she wallowed in her newfound awareness of
her sexuality.

To disturb her further, the fragrance of their combined spoors lingering
in the room permeated her senses. Sabine involuntarily opened her mouth to
catch the scent on her tongue. She relished the sharp tang of Drew’s potency
mingling with her own familiar scent.

It gave her a hint of the essence of the cub they would create together.
The yearning for their child seeped through her, to settle with a hollowness in
the pit of her belly. The primeval instinct to propagate her race roused the
she-wolf within her. Could he tell? Taste her need for him on the air?

Sabine turned onto her back to look up to meet Drew’s probing eyes. His
expression slowly changed to one she’d come to recognize.

His eyes heated up with desire, for her, and she hoped only for her. Yes,
he could smell her need. The warm regard she saw shining from his eyes would
die if she attempted to take his cub, but she needed a child for her pack, she
thought with growing desperation.

For the first time, she felt conflicted. Sabine wasn’t sure what she
wanted anymore. She needed some time and a little distance from Drew.

“You can’t expect me to put aside a lifetime of familial allegiance, just
because we’ve mated. I can’t forget all I’ve known, all that I am.” Everything
had happened so fast. Too fast.

Drew’s hand curled possessively over the spot where she’d grow large with
his cub if he ever impregnated her. Sabine tried to push his hand away, but he
splayed his fingers possessively over her quivering flesh.

“I’m not so insensitive to expect that.” His warm breath wafted over her
neck, sending a shiver down her back. “But you have to face some facts. The
moment you fall pregnant, my mark has to be on you for all to see. I won’t have
my gravid mate running around without the weight it carries. I won’t leave you
or my cub vulnerable.”

His baldly stated declaration shocked her. “You act as if it’s a foregone
conclusion, that you will impregnate me.”

A cocky grin spread across his face. “It’ll be damned near impossible for
me to keep my hands off you now.”

“Like how you couldn’t keep your hands off Jules?”

Drew’s hold tightened, the warmth of his breath eddying over her skin in an
airy caress. Sabine felt her pussy burgeon with desire.

“There is no comparison and you know it.”

He flicked her earlobe with the damp tip of his tongue then ran it down
the length of her neck.

Sabine let out a strangled whimper.

Drew pressed his face into the sensitive vee where her neck melded into
her shoulder, rubbing his lips and face into the tense tendons there.

The sound of their agitated breathing was loud within the quiet room.

“Don’t pretend you don’t feel this connection we’ve forged between us,
Sabine. It’s growing. Try to ignore it all you want, though I doubt you can. I
sure as hell can’t.”

Sabine drew back to stare at him, doubting his sincerity. There was no
mistaking the fervency in his words. “It’s sexual compatibility and it won’t
make us good partners. I’m your mate because of necessity.”

“Good matings have been cemented with less, and we have a good
foundation.”

“I don’t think you have it in you to give me what I need in a mate,” she
muttered stubbornly. Did that make any sense? Even though she said the words,
the logic seemed skewed to her.

Drew’s brows lowered, a gleam of offence burned in his eyes. “What the
hell do you mean by that?”

Sabine shot him a don’t-act-dumb look.

“Okay, I acknowledge I came into this union with baggage, some I still
carry with me. We never discussed Christa.”

“Why bother? The very mention of her name brings you pain. Leave it,
Drew. There is no point to it.” Sabine grumbled and wiggled out from under him.

“So stubborn.” Drew let her go, though she felt his impatient gaze boring
into her back.

“Not stubborn, practical. No point in wishing for the moon when it’s out
of your reach.” She slid off the bed, keeping her back to him. She didn’t want
him to read her thoughts through her eyes.

“What are you admitting? You want me?” She didn’t have to see his face to
know he was smirking. She heard it in his voice. Was she so transparent?

“Don’t flatter yourself.” Sabine stiffened when she heard the sheets rustle
as he left the bed.

“There is nothing wrong in wanting me, Sabine. Your father is right about
one thing. We’ve almost lost the ability to live in the moment. Can you tell me
you didn’t revel in what we shared? The total freedom of being immersed in your
feelings.”

Sabine opened her mouth to issue a denial. The silence lengthened until
she fidgeted. She didn’t know what to say, and Drew seemed to be waiting for a
response.

The slight weight of a garment settling over her shoulders startled her.
Sabine glanced down at the blue cloth billowing around her ankles. The hem was
embroidered with white lilies and stylized birds. The silky material slid
fluidly over her skin.

Drew turned her to face him and pulled her arms through the wide sleeves.
“I asked Hanni to send up a few things for you. After watching you in the
shower last night, I figured you’d love the feel of silk against your skin.” He
ran his fingers under the wide lapel. His eyes narrowed slightly, and his
beautiful mouth quirked into a teasing grin. “You’re a sensualist, Sabine, and
I’m going to enjoy bringing out more of that side of you. I can’t wait to start
dressing you in Victoria’s Secret.” He gathered the lapels and tied the wide
mock-obi sash at her waist.

What bit of nonsense was he spouting now? “Who’s Victoria, and why would
I be dressed in her secret?”

He smirked and wiggled his brows. “It’s a store or catalogue which sells
women’s underwear, bits and pieces of visual delights to whet a man’s
appetites.”

“You frequent a shop that sells women’s undergarments?” Sabine looked at
Drew skeptically.

“It’s more than a store, it’s an institution.”

“You’re a very strange man who lives in a very strange world, Drew.”

“I have a feeling you’re going to take to it like a duck to water. Look
at what you have on, it suits you.”

Sabine twisted and turned to catch a glimpse of the images on the cloth.
It swirled around her, caressing her ankles, making the white wings of the
cranes woven into the material appear to flap gently against the blue
background.

“I’ve never had anything so lovely.”

“Aimee is going to love dragging you from store to…” His voice trailed
off, the look of contentment disappeared, and his face hardened. A glimmer of
what seemed to be guilt tinged with anguish flickered through his eyes.

Sabine cradled his face between her hands, before she could stop herself.
Her instinct to comfort her mate, ease his pain in some small way if she could,
overrode everything else. Drew pressed his face against her hands, seeming to
find solace in her touch.

“And she will when she gets back here. If Aimee is anything like her
brother, she’ll be working on a plan, don’t you think?” She shot him a grin,
daring him to deny it.

A feral smirk spread across his face. “Yes, she—you bet your sweet ass
she is. She is a Lunedare.” His eyes narrowed, and he peered down at her in a
considering manner. “You know, I’ve never been at the receiving end of the
softer side of you.”

Alerted by the new glint in his eyes, Sabine withdrew as if contact with
his skin had seared her hands.

“I quite like it.” He smiled at her, and she felt very much a like a
chicken cornered by a hungry fox.

She backed away from him. “I need to go and wash if I’m to face your pack
later.”

He took a determined step in her direction. “Good idea. Let me give you a
hand.”

She shifted to the right and he adjusted his position to block her. “What
I had in mind was a bath not another bout of sex.” She kept taking steps
backward and he matched them to keep apace with her.

“No? We can do both, let me show you just what a shower head can do.” He
lunged, scooped her up, and tossed her over his shoulder.

“You’re insatiable.” She wiggled on her perch.

“Yeah, I’m that. Want to find out what else I am?” Drew ran his hand over
her silk covered buttocks.

Yes, she did…

* *
* *

Aimee watched Micah and two weres board the inflatable raft in
preparation to go ashore. She had a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach, but
she sucked it up. She sure as heck wasn’t going to blubber like a spineless
nitwit in front of his pack brothers and sisters.

She gripped the rail and stared at the hazy jumble of buildings dotting
the coastline. They’d weighed anchor several miles out at sea off a seaport
north of Savannah. Micah still hadn’t heard from the weres he’d sent to get
Milo. She could sense the growing dread Micah tried to keep hidden. He was
leaving to try to locate his missing men. Rifkin could be laying in wait for
them and worry niggled at Aimee.

If anything happened to Micah these weres hanging anxiously over the rail
would be worse off than they had been before they tossed their lots in with
him. The penalty Bardo would exact would be hefty.

Her love and pride in him filled the achy place in her heart. She’d be
supportive and send him off with a gentle reminder that he had a lot to return
for, a bit of light in his dark world.

“Hey,” Aimee called down to her mate as he untied the towline. “Bring me
some peanut brittle if you get a chance. I have cravings.”

A perplexed look flitted across his face, before he laughed. “You can’t
possibly have them yet.”

“I certainly can, if I want to,” she answered pertly. “It’s a benefit of
being preggers.”

“Is this going to happen a lot during the next few months?” Micah asked,
shaking his head.

“Next few months?” she wiggled her brows at him. “I like the sound of
that.”

“A slip of the tongue. You’re going.”

“I’m staying, and I might want sardines and hard-boiled eggs. That’s all
Saffa ate when she was carrying her triplets.”

Micah’s face lost all color. “That’s downright nasty.”

“Pickles and strawberry ice cream sounds good too.” Aimee grinned evilly
down at him. At least he didn’t look morose anymore. He looked sick, not a good
look for an ass-kicking were. She might have gone a little overboard.

The chuckles rippling through the throng were worth scaring the crap out
of her man. It was good to hear the Redmavens laugh.

With a dazed look on his face, Micah pushed off, started the outboard
motor, and headed for shore.

She flipped open the cell phone he’d given her and sighed, frustrated.
The service bars were non-existent. When Micah got back, she was going to
persuade him to let her contact Saffa. That is, if he came back to her.

Chapter Nineteen

Drew’s vehicle careened around another corner, sending Sabine against the
door with a soft thud. From the moment she’d lured Drew into the pit, the days,
hours and minutes had flashed by in a mind-boggling blur. As soon as she felt
she’d found her footing, a new experience was thrust at her.

Didn’t he ever do anything at a leisurely pace?

Sabine smirked. Well, maybe one thing.

Another sharp turn whipped her head to the right and rapped it against
the glass panel beside her. Sabine gritted her teeth, extended her claws and
sunk them into the seat beneath her to anchor herself in place. She caught Drew’s
groan over the engine’s rumble and glanced at him in time to catch the grimace
on his face.

“You could’ve kept the seat belt buckled and saved my upholstery.” He
tilted his head at the discarded harness.

Sabine looked at it with disdain. “I felt like I was leashed. Now I know
what a dog feels like.”

Drew ran his hand over the hide-covered bench between them, similar to
the way he caressed her. “Honey, that’s hand stitched-leather you’re shredding.
I had this baby pimped.”

“You prostituted your truck?” What was he talking about now? There were
moments he made absolutely no sense to her. She had a good grasp of the English
language. Yet some things he said completely befuddled her. There had to be a
book somewhere she could use to become familiar with his colloquialisms.

Throwing his head back, Drew let out a laugh. “No, I paid to have it
customized. Cushy seats, burled wood accoutrements, and a kick-ass sound
system.” He punched a button and a man’s gravelly voice howling, “Born to be
Wild,” blared out at Sabine, and she cringed at the range of decibels screaming
out at her.

“Show some respect for an American classic. Steppenwolf. That song should
be the werekin’s anthem.” He patted the console before him covered with the
confusing gauges and dials. “You’re gonna have to learn to recognize and
appreciate the love affair between a man and his ride.” He winked at her,
looking almost boyish if you could ignore the punch of his masculinity.

She yelped when he whipped to the left to avoid a stone formation jutting
out in front of them, then he plunged down a sudden dip in the unpaved road which
cut roughly through the thick woodlands.

“Ride? Is that what you call this, this…rat trap we’re barreling down the
mountain in like caged rodents, a ride? You ride a horse. At any minute now, I
expect you to hurl us over a precipice. With any luck we’ll break our necks,
and I’ll be released from my misery.”

The smile dropped from Drew’s face, and he pressed a lever with his foot.
They slowed down appreciably. “Don’t joke about a broken neck. I’ve never
crashed a truck in my life. I have cat-like reflexes.”