Wandering Off the Path (7 page)

Wolf would always challenge for more. Every time she created a line, when she walked away from him, told him to leave, he pushed past it, finding his way across it. The idea of fighting his attempts, or giving him exactly what he wanted, excited her. He’d tempted her, until she was willing give him anything he wanted for another taste of what he’d already revealed to her.

With the tip of his forefinger, Wolf pushed one of the cheese slices towards her. Hardly aware of her actions, she picked up the piece and nibbled at the end. Not out of hunger, for as soon as he’d appeared from the bedroom her stomach had twisted into knots too tight to even consider food, but to occupy herself in the silent room.

She should throw him from her home and life, along with the confusing emotions he engendered. But she had no intention of doing so. She couldn’t force him away any more than she’d been able to resist his initial seductions.

Wolf watched Abigail nibble at the cheese, and he wished it was his own flesh she applied those white teeth to. Absentmindedly, he rubbed the fading bite marks on his chest and his groin tightened. He wanted her again,
needed
her again. This gnawing in his gut almost demanded he pick her up and take her back to the bedroom. His stomach now partially full, he had other hungers to satisfy.

Abigail’s downcast gaze and trembling fingers told him she wouldn’t be as interested in his needs. Her head was tilted away from him, the firelight glowing across her hair and smooth cheek. He fought the yearning to growl at her for turning away from him—he hated her obscured expression. The desire to know her thoughts multiplied each second he couldn’t read her amber eyes. But he needed to be more skilful, more precise this time.

Wolf wrung his hands together. Her soft fragrance tempted him. He had to know whether Abigail was okay, even if she was tossing him out of the door, or crying into her hands. If he’d injured her, either mentally or physically, he’d beat himself to a bloody pulp. He never wanted to be the source of someone else’s pain again. Not after what had happened to the last woman to enter his life.

“Are you all right?” Wolf infused as much softness into his words as possible. He didn’t possess a lot of softness—there hadn’t been much need for it in the forest. But when she looked up at him with those doe eyes, he wanted her to trust him. She brought out the man he used to be. The man with a family, the man with a future, the man who cared for others.

Abigail nodded, lifting her head up to meet his gaze. “I’m worried about my grandmother. She’s never been gone this long.”

His chest lightened, his fears somewhat alleviated. Yet his need for her grew.

He forced himself to chomp into a ripe autumn apple, to occupy his hands, teeth and tongue. Her sweet smell managed to overpower the aroma of the fresh fruit, more intoxicating than the apple. He gripped the fruit tightly in his fingers to keep from pulling her to him, sliding her legs around his hips and cushioning his cock between her silky thighs.

Most tempting of all was her kiss. He wasn’t sure he’d ever wanted to kiss a woman so much in his life. He clutched the fruit, his fingers biting into the thick red skin to stop himself from dragging her mouth to his instead. He could so easily push her down on this bench and be once again thrusting into her lush body until she was moaning beneath him.

He concentrated on her, taking another bite of the juicy fruit, forcing down the concern clogging his throat with the food. The crunch of his bite echoed through the still room.

She couldn’t want any of that now. He’d taken advantage of her, he’d used her. He’d pushed her to do more than any sweet maiden should ever endure. She shouldn’t allow him to even touch her again with such intimacy. He wouldn’t blame her.

“Is there anyone else that could search for her? Do you have any other family she might have gone to?”

She shook her head. “No. It’s just the two of us. She’s my whole family.” She looked pale, fragile and alone beside him. As alone as he was. His chest tightened with the urge to protect her, to keep her safe, to make sure she’d never be alone and sad again.

“My parents died in our home. The cabin was accidentally set ablaze by an overturned candle. I came here to live with my grandma and grandpa after that. But he died a few years back from a fever. We’ve been on our own ever since,” Abigail continued without prompting. She twisted her fingers together nervously. Dark fears encroached on her eyes like clouds over the moon. He wanted to reach out and touch her, to smooth his fingers down her cheek, to calm the nervous fumbling of her fingers. But it had been so long since he’d been affectionate with anyone he didn’t know if he was even capable of bestowing such comfort.

“I don’t know where she could be, or what might have happened to her. Much can happen in the wood,” she blurted.

“Yes,” he returned, looking up to find her soft eyes staring at him, with a surprising empathy. She must have sensed something in his words, in his tone, but she didn’t ask.

Wolf turned away from her, the vulnerability of her sweet amber gaze meeting his own too much to take. He picked up his cup and drowned the entire portion in one gulp, the wine burning down his throat. He’d given up all that when he’d found his family’s cold bodies. After the men who had intended to kill him had beaten his wife and daughter to death, and believed they’d left him to the same fate. He’d vowed he’d never again be the catalyst of someone else’s harm, and with Abigail’s open loving heart and trusting nature, she’d be all too easy to hurt.

Abigail curved her hand around his cheek, gently redirecting his expression to meet her eyes. Her gaze captured him, unwilling to allow him to hide behind sadness, fear or rage.

“I can see the sadness in you, too.” She combed her fingers through his hair, pushing the strands away from his face. “Did you lose someone as well?”

When he didn’t respond, she pulled back slightly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.” Her words dripped with genuine concern as she apologised, her head cast down.

Wolf couldn’t remember the last time someone had been concerned about offending him, since anyone had shown interest in how he’d become the animal he was, instead of writing him off as the big, bad Wolf. He deserved what he got. His family had suffered far greater than he had. He’d created his own fate and no weak-hearted maid could change that, no matter if she should want to. Yet the simple gesture made him want to show her all of him, even the darkness.

“My family…” he continued, not acknowledging her concern, but rewarding her affection. Pain stabbed at his ribs. His lungs burned with his struggle to breathe against the ache. He hated talking about his family. He hated being reminded of all the pain he’d brought them for nothing, all the damage he’d caused because he was too young and stupid to know better. “They were taken from me. It was my fault they were harmed, my fault they were put in danger’s path.” His voice filled with anger and regret. “After they were gone, darkness overtook me. The woods were the only place that would accept me.”

She stretched her other arm around him, brushing his back, soothing his aching spirit with each caress. There’d been too little comfort in his life. He shouldn’t place that burden on her, of soothing a man as troubled as he, but it felt too good in her arms to pull away.

He leaned into her touch, allowing her further access. He didn’t want her to ever let go. He couldn’t ask for so much. Certainly not when he had nothing to give in return.

“Is that why you followed me? You saw the same darkness in me.” Her words quivered with a fine tremor of fear.

He looked up, surprised. He searched her eyes, gauging the seriousness of her question. Her head dropped timidly, her fingers tightened anxiously in the folds of her crimson cloak. Not because of him, as it should have been, but directed towards herself.

The realisation astonished him—she couldn’t truly believe that. No darkness hollowed her heart. This woman, who wanted to comfort a stranger, who offered him understanding, compassion and sympathy, didn’t have any evil fibre within her.

Not like he did. Not like he always would. She was better than he’d ever be. Better than he’d ever been.

“Abigail.” He used his fiercest tone to command her attention. “You’re not dark. You’re full of light, innocence and sweetness. That’s what lured me to speak to you, to tempt you off the path. But it’s not what brought me here.”

Abigail’s mouth quirked, as if a question hovered on the tip of her tongue, but he stopped her with a glare. He wouldn’t let her interrupt, not before he’d said all he needed to, not before he’d told her the full truth. “It was your curiosity that drove me here. The spark inside you that quests for more. The open and searching desire to know the world beyond what you’ve been given. You have no idea how rare such desire is.”

Silence followed his words. Wolf helped himself to another piece of cake, giving Abigail the freedom to ponder his words, to absorb the truth. If he could make her believe, maybe he could find a way to stay, if only for a little while longer.

Could curiosity be enough to attract a man like Wolf? Could it be enough to keep him?

Wolf made no motion to speak, and Abigail didn’t press him, enjoying the stillness between them. The silence was comforting. She wished it could stay like this, she and Wolf basking in this relaxed quiet together. It was the most content with herself she could remember being in a long time. Despite the fear for her grandmother, her life was perfect.

Softly, in the background, she heard the foreign sound of horse hooves pounding against the frozen ground. At first she ignored it, unsure where the noise came from. There hadn’t been horses here since her grandfather’s death. And few visitors travelled close enough to be heard from their small cabin. Besides Hunter.

But the pounding continued to get louder, closer, until the truth assailed her, hitting her as hard as the hooves beat upon the packed earth. The sounds slowed, forcing her to rise from the bench to meet Wolf’s quizzical look. She stepped to the door, opening it only a crack to keep as much of the warmth inside as possible, but enough to confirm her suspicions in a familiar chestnut mare.

“Hunter,” she declared under her breath. Damn Hunter and his need to be her saviour. Couldn’t he wait to check on her until tomorrow?

Wolf looked to her, startled, confusion knitting his brows. She slapped her hand over her mouth at another man’s name escaping her throat. She met his gaze, not sure what emotions lingered in their depths. Was it possible she saw concern there, maybe even jealousy?

Abigail suppressed the urge to curse as her common, everyday life protruded into the exhilarating existence she’d created with Wolf. She’d enjoyed her reprieve from her quiet reality and wasn’t ready to return to it.

For a moment she considered pretending to not be home. She could tempt Wolf into the bedroom and keep him there long past Hunter’s departure. But her absence would incite Hunter to further action, his concern for her would be too great to ignore any possibility she might be in distress.

From her earliest childhood she remembered Hunter caring for her, helping her find her way home when she got lost, or preventing her from eating the poisonous berries she found upon the path. Only two years older, Hunter had always acted as her protector, but his role had only intensified as they’d aged, as her curiosity and ability to find such danger had increased. She could imagine Hunter doing almost anything to keep her safe. If he found she was missing, she wouldn’t be surprised if he gathered together a hefty search party to find her.

She looked back over at Wolf, where he casually leant back across the table, chewing on another apple. His broad chest was on display, the muscles bunching and moving as he ate. Her gaze dipped south, to a part of him ready and willing for distraction, creating a heat deep in her stomach.

Regardless of how much power she might wield over Wolf’s hungers, she couldn’t divert his attention forever. Eventually they’d need to leave this cabin, and when they both reappeared, there would only be more questions. Questions she didn’t know how to answer, or wouldn’t want to answer, after Wolf had left her. After he’d taken what he’d come for.

Besides, Hunter might have news of her grandmother.

“What is it?” Wolf’s eyes met hers. He straightened and the smile dropped from his face as he looked up at her, concern evident in the contours of his features. His expression warmed her more than any stroke he’d placed upon her.

Abigail felt his pull again. She twisted towards him, her whole being alert and aware of his hard form beside her. She clutched her hands at her side, wanting to run her fingers across that chest, through his thick hair, down his smooth back. She fought against the haze of desire Wolf had unleashed in her, trying to remember Hunter’s presence just outside her door. She had no idea what Hunter would do if he found her being ravished by her big, bad Wolf, but she didn’t wish to find out.

“Wolf,” she spoke quickly, forcing the words from her throat even as her heart opposed them. “You need to dress.”

His molten gaze assessed her, warming her with invitation. Her body responded—she was more than willing to accept the enticement in his stare. It took all of her willpower to deny his request.

“I heard a horse.”

Wolf leapt from his seat, the bench rocked underneath her, his every muscle tensed for attack. The tightening of his frame only improved her view of his chiselled nakedness, her gaze lingering upon his strong legs and arse. The rational part of her mind fought for control.