Taming Heather [Cariboo Lunewulf 1] (15 page)

It didn’t help that she’d seen him three times that day. He’d shown up at the
Tribune
, there to answer questions for another reporter. The way his gaze locked onto hers captured her from across the room. She couldn’t remember whether she was coming or going after that.

Then to make matters worse, during lunch downtown, she’d seen him again, driving by as she hurried to her car. He hadn’t stopped. He didn’t have to. The way he looked at her made her so damned wet, she almost stumbled in her heels, missing the curb.

“Damn him.” He was controlling her with his simple promise of making her pay for what she’d done in the shower.

And all she’d wanted was to understand him better. The sex they’d had on his couch had been so different from anything she’d ever experienced. It had
felt
different. In no way would she claim to be an expert on sex. But he’d changed inside of her. And well, that had freaked her out.

All she’d wanted to do was see that change, understand it, and him, better.

Not to mention she ached to see him again, and had no idea when that would be.

By the end of the day, she just happened to take the route to her apartment that went past the police station. He pulled out of the parking lot as she drove by. It was hard to keep her attention from her mirrors when she realized he was right behind her. The light in front of her turned red, and she slammed on the brakes.

Her cell phone buzzed, and she expected to hear Marc’s voice chastising her for not having her wits about her.

“You better spill it, Heather,” her girlfriend Margot said teasingly when she answered her phone. “Who was that gorgeous man who practically hauled you out of the coffee shop?”

“His name is Marc McAllister. He’s a cop.” And a werewolf. But that was more information than she would allow.

Margot Mason was a good friend, and someone she’d met shortly after moving to Prince George. Margot worked in the distribution center at the newspaper, and was inclined to always be up on the latest gossip. Harmless enough, but Heather doubted something as juicy as “the up-and-coming reporter sleeping with a werewolf” would be information her friend would keep to herself.

“Well, he’s an absolute hunk. Are you dating?”

Heather glanced at her rearview mirror, her mouth going dry when she saw Marc’s determined expression. He wasn’t more than a car length behind her. She turned the corner, watching as he continued to follow her.

“I’m not sure, to be honest with you.” And she wasn’t.

Technically, Marc hadn’t asked her out on a date. Unless she wanted to count the night he’d informed her she was going to his brothers’ party with him. Maybe that was how werewolves did dating.

Something told her Marc did things exactly how he wanted to do them, regardless of what werewolf protocol might be.

“Well, a bunch of us will be down at the bowling alley Wednesday night. You should bring him along. Let us all drool.” Margot laughed easily. “You don’t date enough as it is. And this one, with that aggressive side. Sounds like you’d be a fool to pass him up.”

Heather pulled into her parking lot and turned off her car. She stepped out as Marc pulled in next to her.

“I’ll have to see,” she said, distracted by how damn good he looked in his cop uniform.

“Heather.” Margot sighed. “You bury yourself in your work and we all know it. Now if this man is interested in you, have some fun. You’ll ask him, won’t you?”

Heather almost chuckled. Have some fun? Marc had given her better sex than she’d ever dreamed possible. The man was wild, damn near uncontrollable, and sexier than any man she’d ever seen. Granted he borderlined on dangerous, but she couldn’t deny the fact that that excited her.

Marc strolled up to her, taking a strand of her hair and wrapping it around his finger then giving it a tug. She let her head fall back, almost forgetting she was on the phone when she drowned in those powerful blue eyes.

Definitely dangerous.

“Apparently you made quite an impression on our pack leader.” His deep tone turned her insides upside down.

Her palm grew damp against her phone and at the same time her pussy began throbbing. Just staring at him was enough to unnerve her. Her mind seemed to melt, all coherent thought seeping from her as her body began throbbing with lustful need.

“Who is that? Is he there with you? What did he say?” Margot’s excited voice brought her back to reality.

“I just got home. And yes, he’s here.” Awkwardness plummeted through her.

It was impossible to talk to Margot with Marc this close to her. He smelled like soap, and so much man. Looking straight ahead her vision was filled with his massive chest. Glancing up, he devoured her with his hungry look.

“Ask him about the bowling alley. You’ve just got to bring him. Give us all a chance to get to know him.”

“Okay. I’ll ask him. Talk later, okay?”

She hung up her phone after hasty goodbyes and stuffed it in her purse.

“Ask me what?” he asked, as his gaze traveled down her body.

Even in her dark suit pants, complete with matching jacket, heat swarmed through her. No matter how chilly the late afternoon air was, it did nothing to stop the smoldering lust that pooled between her legs.

Heather waved her hand in the air, dismissing the conversation she’d just had on the phone. There was no way she could picture Marc hanging out with her girlfriends and their husbands. They were such a lame bunch compared to him and the pack members she’d met the other night. He would think her a total bore if he saw that side of her.

“Nothing,” she said, straining her brain to think of something else to talk about.

She turned, grabbing her briefcase from her car, and then shut the door. Marc hadn’t moved.

“So Johann Rousseau liked me?” she asked, unsure whether to start toward her apartment or stay put.

“I said you made quite an impression on him.” The way he squinted against the setting sun brought out adorable crow’s feet on either side of his eyes. “He seems to think you might be able to help gap the bridge between werewolves and humans.”

“That’s what I told him I was going to try and do.”

“So you lied.”

She stared at him for a moment, resenting instantly that he would think her incapable of completing such a feat.

“No. I didn’t lie. That is exactly what I want to do.” She ached to touch him, anything to take that hardened expression from his face.

All day she’d dreamed of more sex with him, spending time learning more about him. Hell, she’d even considered the idea of riding a dirt bike again while he ran as a werewolf. Now those awesome fantasies seemed to fade as she looked up at him.

“You forget, little bitch,” he said, barely moving his mouth.

“I don’t know why you have to keep calling me that,” she interrupted.

“You forget that I’ve seen the article you’re writing,” he continued, ignoring her comment.

Cupping her chin, he stroked her jawbone slowly, gently, the action sending shivers through her as she fought to keep her breath steady.

“I’ve learned quite a bit since I started writing the article. Most of what you’ve read will be changed. I really want to see werewolves and humans get along. This article will help. You’ll see.”

The way he stroked her flesh, moving his finger from her jawbone, down the side of her neck, was such a slow, sultry motion it unnerved her. Slow and gentle hadn’t been Marc’s style from the moment she’d met him. The thought that he held her face and her neck, with the power to grip too hard and with no notice, steal her breath away, sent a rush of nervous excitement through her.

Marc’s eyes were a hard, radiant blue. So damned controlled and powerful. “And why is it that you so desperately want us to get along?”

“That’s a silly question.”

She yanked her head away from him, unable to take the slow torturous caress any longer. Whatever it was that had gotten under his skin, she wasn’t sure she liked it. Rubbing her neck quickly, she marched around him toward her apartment.

Heather would have to run to make him work to keep up with her. Marc moved alongside her with a determined gait, pausing when she reached her apartment door and fumbled for her keys.

Once in her small apartment, Marc closed the door behind them. With his powerful and large body in her living room, he made everything around him appear small.

She tossed her briefcase on her small dining room table, neatly arranged with placemats for two—placemats she seldom ever used. There was no reason to fix nice meals for just her.

Sitting on her couch, she kicked off her heels and rubbed her ankles through her hose. Marc reclined in her chair opposite the couch, stretching out his long legs, which almost reached her as he relaxed. His brooding expression made her nervous.

“You’re just staring at me,” she finally said, unable to take his watchful gaze a moment longer. “It’s making me nuts.”

Marc lifted a shoulder lazily, his expression not changing. “Oftentimes that is an emotion of a guilty party.”

“I’m not guilty of anything.” He was starting to make her mad.

Which was so damned unfair. All day long she’d fantasized about this man. She had no idea what had crawled up his ass, but she didn’t like it.

“Why are you writing the article?” he asked again, his baritone sending chills rushing over her.

It would be a damned good idea never to be interrogated by this man. She wouldn’t stand a chance.

The best approach was honesty. After all, she had nothing to hide. Straightening, she gripped her knees.

“Originally I thought the timing was perfect. Writing an informative and accurate article about werewolves would do wonders for my career. We’re dying to know more about you. We know you exist, yet you’re a mystery. And no one has dug deep into your culture yet and informed the world of how you really are.” She took a breath, hating how his expression didn’t change. His posture remained the same. It was as if he was made of stone, not breathing, not moving, simply staring at her. She pressed on. “I thought if I could get inside your pack, learn how you live, learn everything about you, then I would be able to write the best damn article that would give me worldwide attention.”

Marc pounced at her, moving so quickly she didn’t have a chance to catch her breath before he grabbed her, lifting her off of the couch.

Her feet left the ground. He gripped her arms, giving her a quick shake that rattled her teeth.

“I will not be used,” he growled with enough fierceness that she should’ve been terrified.

Instead she was outraged. Twisting in his grip, her feet hit the floor hard when he let go of her. She reached for the first thing she could find—her briefcase. Hurling it at him, he grabbed it all too easily and tossed it on the chair where he’d just been sitting.

“I’m not using you.” She had enough sense not to scream, knowing her not so thick walls would have all the neighbors turning down their televisions to listen if she started yelling. “Aren’t you the one who can smell emotions? You know damn good and well I’m not using you.”

“You’re interviewing the pack leader, befriending his mate. And then you want me to perform for you, masturbating so you can watch and see if you can change me.” Silver streaks appeared in his eyes, while his jaw twitched as he spoke. “You may not see it, Heather, but I see it plain as day. That article depicts us as monsters. That won’t do a thing to bring humans and werewolves together.”

Heather grabbed his arm, attempting to pull him into her bedroom where her laptop was. Marc didn’t budge.

“Come here.” She looked up at his hardened face, lines creasing around his mouth and eyes as he stared, not blinking, down at her. “I want to show you something. Now move.”

A growl burst through him, and he grew larger before her eyes. Her heart raced, but she didn’t fear him. Although her heart swelled to the point where she could hardly breathe, she knew beyond a doubt that he wouldn’t hurt her.

“Please,” she added quietly.

Marc took a step forward, and she turned, leading them into her bedroom. Although at that moment, if she didn’t think it would hurt her hand, she would have liked to belt him right in the gut.

Moving to her laptop, her fingers shook, in spite of her silent order to remain calm. She managed to bring up her article, then turned, looking up at him, as she pointed to the screen.

“See? I’ve deleted what I showed you. I’m rewriting it.”

His uniform strained over the bulging muscles in his chest. Marc was a giant of a man, and she imagined he could be ruthless if need be. A creature existed inside him that was more than any man’s demon could ever be. And it was that creature that would prevent him from losing his temper, allow him to understand her. She envied him that release. It made werewolves more human than humans.

“Why did you do that?”

She was sure it was the amount of control he exerted that made his muscles bulge as if any moment he would transform before her eyes.

Suddenly her nerves consumed her, making her shake. She told herself that it wasn’t because he was so damned intimidating. He wouldn’t hurt her. She knew he wouldn’t. Nonetheless, she wrapped her arms around her chest, hugging herself, and stared at his giant feet.