Taming Heather [Cariboo Lunewulf 1] (23 page)

Heather couldn’t agree more that the situation was fucked up. “I’m going to go in and talk to my editor today. Hopefully he’s calmed down some.”

There was something else she was going to do. She needed to get home and write the article she’d been researching for months now. It burned to get out of her. More now than ever before, she had a story to tell.

Samantha poured coffee and offered Heather a mug steaming with the hot brew. “You need to let me know how you want to approach this situation with Marc. I don’t have to go through the laws to know there isn’t any fine print to clear up this situation.”

Heather nodded. “Well, if in his heart he mated with me, then he should have told me.”

“
Cariboo lunewulf
are hardened in their ways. Even a werewolf bitch has a hard time with those men.” Samantha smiled, and Heather knew she tried to make light of the situation that was weighing down her heart. Samantha blew on her coffee, eyeing her baby on the table. “I don’t know Marc that well. His den and the other
Cariboo
keep mostly to themselves. They are even quiet at the pack meetings. Johann is still working with them to come forward when they mate, or buy land, so it can be put in the books.”

Heather understood now that werewolves didn’t have marriages the way humans did. Samantha had explained so much to her the night before. When two werewolves were in love, they mated, and it was for life. As long as they had their pack leader’s approval, then the mating went down in the books—and the deed was done.

Johann came down the hallway, his boots clicking on the tile when he entered the kitchen. He ran his hand through Samantha’s hair, pulling her to him, and then kissing her on the forehead—an act not unlike something Marc would do to her. Heather’s tummy flip-flopped while her pussy pulsed just at the thought of him.

“We’ve got company—again.” He looked over Samantha’s head and out the kitchen window.

Heather ached to know what he meant by again.

“I thought I heard something.” Samantha looked up at Johann, in that silent way couples do when they are communicating through their gazes without speaking.

Again the intimate act made Heather think of Marc. She needed to see him. There was little doubt in her mind that he wondered where she was. And with her charger at home, there was no way she could use her cell phone, or receive calls, while she was here. The longer she stayed away from him, the harder he would be to reason with once she saw him. All she would want to do was jump his bones.

And that was why she needed some time. When she saw him next, they would need to talk. But before she could have that conversation, she needed to have some things straight in her head.

“Who is out there?” she asked, having a feeling she already knew the answer.

“Marc is here. And he was here last night too.” Johann straightened, appearing very much in control of any emotions or thoughts going through his head. “You were asleep so I granted you protection.”

Heather licked her lips, and then placed her coffee on the counter, her hands suddenly feeling a bit shaky.

“I…I don’t want to make a scene in your home.” She sucked in a shaky breath, her heart suddenly beating so wildly in her chest she could hardly breathe.

Samantha reached out for her, but then before touching her, turned slightly, and placed her palm on Johann’s chest. She smiled at Heather.

“You came to me as a bitch would to her queen. We will continue to grant you protection. Go home. You will be safe.” Samantha spoke so solemnly, sounding just like a queen.

Heather’s mouth went dry, and she nodded. More than anything she wanted to see Marc. There was so much to talk about. But before she talked to him, there were a few matters she needed to tend to personally, one of them being her job.

Heading toward their front door, she gripped the handle and then turned, realizing both of them were right behind her. Samantha with her infant back in her arms, and Johann with his unreadable expression. They were offering her so much, she knew she needed to be honest with them in return.

“I think I might love him,” she said, her voice cracking.

“We know.” Samantha said, although neither of them showed any kind of happiness toward her comment.

Instead Johann reached around her, forcing her to take a step backwards, and opened the door, leading the way out.

They were going to escort her to her car.

No sooner had she stepped outside, when Marc stepped forward. Johann didn’t rush into him, but moved so he stood between them.

“She’s going home. You’ll leave her be for now.” His tone was so cold, so harsh, that instantly Heather wanted to reach out for Marc.

But this was what she’d asked for, to go home. Werewolves lived by a code that she knew humans could never master. These people had honor, a willingness to fight for what was right in life. They didn’t stab each other in the back, but stood behind each other, forming a tight bond—a pack.

“Like hell she’s leaving.” Marc bolted toward the car, and Johann jumped on him. “Heather!” Marc yelled, just as the two men toppled backwards.

Johann didn’t have the strength to take Marc down. Possibly, even in his anger, Marc respected the rank of his pack leader. He backed off quickly, and glared at Johann before turning to look at her.

Heather hadn’t meant to look at him. She’d told herself as she walked out of the house that she would go home, shower, give herself some time and write that article. Once her head was clear then she would focus on Marc.

But when he called out her name, she couldn’t look away. She met those piercing blue eyes, glowing with a silver edge. His face was hollowed, dark circles under his eyes. His clothes were wrinkled, almost twisted on his body, as if he’d been in them all night, or possibly had just hurried and put them back on. Dark blond hair, appearing a bit dirty, and ruffled, stood on end. He was a wreck.

And never had she seen a sexier man in all of her life.

“You better hurry up and go,” Samantha said quietly. “We’ll make sure he doesn’t follow you.”

Heather looked at the compassion in Samantha’s face. Standing outside in nothing more than the nightshirt she’d slept in, she still had a stately look about her.

Marc’s growl stole her attention from the queen of this pack. She opened her car door, watching his entire body stiffen, as if any moment he might leap through the air and physically stop her. She shook like a leaf but she knew in her heart what she was about to do was right.

“Give me a couple hours, and then I’ll come over.” She could barely swallow over the lump in her throat.

More than anything she wanted to run to him, be in his arms, feel his strength around her. The pain she saw in his eyes was enough for her to know that he truly loved her. If he’d mated with her without telling her, they would work it out. He would learn that she was a hell of a lot more than just his “little bitch”. All of that would take time though, and right now, she had to show her boss what he was about to lose.

* * * * *

It wasn’t until several hours later that Heather realized she hadn’t even taken time to shower. Hurrying home, her eyes blurry with tears over the image of Marc’s torn expression that she last saw as she pulled out of the Rousseau’s drive, she’d walked into her apartment and straight to her computer.

More than she needed to breathe, she had to share her story. And now, with her fingers cramping, she sat back and stared at her computer screen.

I’ve met a werewolf. And I’ve fallen in love. Here is my story.

The Heather Graham story. A human who entered into the daily life of werewolves, and found her own life lacking.

She saved the file to a disc, and then pulled the CD from her computer. Glancing at her clock, there wasn’t much time if she were to make it to work and talk to her editor—her ex-editor.

At the last minute, she remembered her promise to let Marc and Johann read her article before it was published. She hurried and made a couple more copies, and then headed for a much-needed shower.

Chapter Eighteen

Marc was just about to kick every last one of these people out of his house. Apparently, Johann didn’t feel his littermates were enough to contain him. And the damned pack leader was right. Stone and Gabe leaned against his kitchen counter, chatting with Rock Toubec’s mate. After two hours had passed, and Heather hadn’t shown up, he’d been hell-bent and determined to go after her.

He wasn’t sure which one of his brothers ratted him out, but just when he was about to bolt out his back door, head over to her apartment, Rock and his mate Simone had shown up.

Another
Cariboo
, there probably wasn’t anyone else in his pack that could stand a chance against Marc in a fight. Rock would probably be his closest match. Marc would have taken him on, but within thirty minutes after that, Johann arrived as well.

“I think you
Cariboo
are keeping a bit too much to yourselves.” Johann had arrived in a foul mood, and was just about to show what a fool he was for making a scene in a den where he could get his ass kicked.

“But you call us in to help,” Rock had said, “and we’re here, aren’t we?”

Marc turned his back on the lot of them. He’d grown up with Toubec in the mountains, but the asshole was playing loyal to the pack leader today. Marc wanted to take the whole lot of them on, tear into them, releasing every bit of his pent-up frustration.

Not only did it make him crazy that Heather didn’t show up when she said she would, it bothered him even more that his pack seemed to have taken her side. They were protecting her, respecting her wishes, by being here and making sure he didn’t go after her.

He should be thrilled that the pack had accepted her. She was human, yet she’d won their support. At the moment though he just wanted to be alone. And yes, he wanted to go find his little bitch. No matter that she’d run from him, that she hadn’t shown when she said she would, even though that made him crazy in the head, he knew deep inside that it wasn’t because she didn’t want him.

That look she’d given him before leaving Rousseau’s den, the way she’d stared, so torn with compassion dripping from her so hard he could smell it across the yard, her feelings for him were as strong as how he felt for her.

Yet something was going on in her life, and she wanted to handle it without him. That would change. Heather would learn to share every bit of herself with him. He couldn’t have her any other way. And he had to have her. That much he’d realized in the past twenty-four hours. No matter that they hadn’t known each other that long. He couldn’t breathe without her. Never would he have believed he could fall in love so hard, so deeply, with every bit of his soul. But that was what had happened. He loved Heather Graham. Loved her so fucking much it was making him nuts not knowing where she was, or what she was doing.

“A car is pulling up.” Rock’s bitch cocked her head in the kitchen, stilling everyone in the house with her announcement that someone else was here.

They all remained silent, not moving, as each of them listened to quiet footsteps walk up to the door, and then knock.

Marc could smell her sweet scent. He moved before anyone else and pulled open the door.

“Where the hell have you been?” He didn’t give a rat’s ass that he had an audience.

“I did it!” She grinned from ear to ear, oblivious to his pent-up outrage that she’d ignored him for so long. “I showed them all. And they bought it. Aren’t you proud of me?”

Her happiness filled the air around them. And then, much to his surprise, she jumped into his arms, wrapping her small arms around his neck and pressing her moist lips to his.

The hell with his pack members standing around, their amused and bewildered reactions attacking her sweet scent. He didn’t want to smell them. He wanted every bit of him to be nothing but Heather. Holding her tight in his arms, he deepened the kiss, feasting on her mouth.

So hot, so wet, every muscle in his body hardened while emotions so raw, so carnal rushed through him. She belonged to him. Thanks to her own doing, to the fact that she’d announced their bonding sex, his pack now viewed her as his mate.

Marc knew that Heather didn’t realize she’d instigated the bonding. She had a new understanding of the ways of werewolves. But when she’d shared with his littermate that he’d changed while fucking her, albeit a partial change, well, things like that weren’t taken lightly by
Cariboo lunewulf
. Heather had mated with him, had announced their mating, and now his pack was here to witness and ensure the bond was legitimate.

Heather had jumped into his arms, had claimed him once again in public view—with the pack leader present to witness it, no less. In the eye of any werewolf, that was enough to announce them mates for life.

She broke the kiss off just as she had initiated it. Marc wasn’t ready to let her go. All anger had washed clear out of him with her overwhelming happiness. There was still the matter of where the hell she’d been, and why she hadn’t answered his calls, but for the moment, all he wanted to do was keep her in his arms.

“Oh shit.” Heather looked over his shoulder, her sweet smell changing quickly to that of overwhelming embarrassment. “Are you having a…party?”

She slid down his body, making him fight with more strength than he was sure he had at the moment to keep his cock at bay, not let it go hard as a rock in front of everyone.