Last Wolf Standing (10 page)

“Could you read him?” she asked Michaela, ripping her gaze away from him.

“You could say that,” her best friend offered with a throaty chuckle. “His feelings toward you are incredibly powerful,” she murmured, blue eyes shimmering with satisfaction. “The guy wants you bad, Torry. But more than that, he wants to keep you safe.”

Torrance sent a second glance over Michaela’s shoulder, and found Mason watching her with another dark, breathtaking stare. Softly, with her pulse racing, she said, “I can’t stay here, Mic.”

Her best friend reached out and gently touched her shoulder. “I’m not trying to get rid of you, Torry. You’re welcome to stay if that’s what you want. You know that.”

“I’m worried about you and Max,” she admitted, her voice cracking.

“Hey, Max and I can take care of ourselves. You’re the one I’m worried about.”

She stared out over the neighboring storefronts, taking comfort from the familiar sights and sounds. It would be so easy to stay, taking refuge in that familiarity, but she knew that it wasn’t the road she was meant to travel. For whatever reason, fate had set her on a path that led to something strange and new, with the mystifying…unsettling promise of something…special, and though she was afraid, her instincts told her it was the right choice. “I’ll go with him,” she stated quietly, the wind nearly drowning out her huskily spoken words.

A gentle smile played over Michaela’s mouth, her blue eyes dark with acceptance and a softer, perceptive look of understanding. “I don’t know how to explain it, but it feels right to me, honey. He’ll be able to keep you safe. And I think it’ll be good for you, too. There’s something powerful between the two of you. Something that needs to be looked at more closely, if you know what I’m saying.”

“I’m not sure about all of that,” she mumbled, unwilling to admit to what she was feeling. “But I think he’s my best shot at making it through this without anyone else getting hurt.”

“You better promise me you’ll be careful.” Mic gave her a big, crushing hug, whispering in her ear, “And I expect you to call me every day with all the delicious details, woman. And I mean all of them.”

“You’re crazy,” Torrance quietly laughed as Mic released her, and they both sniffled, determined not to get emotional.

“You better not forget to call,” Michaela called out, quickly walking back toward the shop. When she had one hand on the door, she turned toward Mason, pointing one slim finger at him, looking like a prim schoolteacher getting ready to reprimand a disobedient student. “And you had better take good care of her.”

Michaela disappeared inside, and Torrance watched as Mason said something to Jeremy, then started toward her. When he stood no more than an arm’s length away, she asked, “Can you keep them safe?”

He thrust his hands into his front pockets again, his gaze direct, as if he were looking right into her. “I already have a team of Runners assigned to them.”

“Knowing Mic and Max,” she told him, “they won’t like it.”

He nodded in understanding, while the breeze swirled around them, carrying his warm, masculine scent to her nose, and she bit back a telling moan, thinking he already looked far too sure of himself…and her. “They don’t have to know. Pallaton and Reyes are good at staying out of sight.”

“Where were they last night?” she demanded, sending an angry look toward the shop.

The corner of his mouth twitched at her tone. “Once I had the lot of you under watch at the house, I sent them to search for Simmons.”

“Did they find anything?” she asked, pulling her lower lip through her teeth.

“Not yet,” he grunted, staring at her mouth, at the precise point where her teeth pressed into her lip, before pulling his gaze back up to her eyes. “But we will. Once I get you settled.”

She wrapped her arms over her front, as much to hold herself together as to keep warm. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“I swear you’ll be safe, Tor.” He pulled one hand out of his pocket, rubbing at the back of his neck, and she almost flinched at the flood of awareness that rushed through her, violent and shattering. The image was intoxicating, a purely male stance, with the way he held his tall body, head angled slightly down while he looked at her through his thick lashes, powerful arm bent and lifted so that the muscles bulged, his expression…earnest, strong, hungry. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Safe from Simmons, maybe,” she whispered, blinking rapidly as she stared into his warm brown eyes. And in the next moment she heard herself saying, “But what about from you?”

Something silent and powerful passed through his gaze; something that reverberated through her, touching her deep inside, where she felt it in her blood and tissues and organs, pulsing in the very core of her body. “I’d never hurt you, Torrance,” he finally said, and there was no mistaking the conviction in those simple words. “And I’m sorry as hell I’ve landed you in the middle of all this.”

“It’s not like you meant for any of it to happen,” she muttered, ignoring what her name on his lips did to her heart rate.

His eyes narrowed, the molten brown barely visible through the thick, lush line of his lashes. “I should have just ignored you in that damn café and walked away. But I couldn’t.”

Since she didn’t know what to say to that, she kept silent. Another chilling blast of wind surged around them, whipping her hair around her shoulders, and Torrance shivered as she grasped at the windblown strands, then rubbed her palms together, trying to work some heat back into her numb fingers. She jumped with a start of surprise when he lowered his arm and reached toward her, but he merely grabbed her hand, running his thumb across the fragile bones, warming her skin.

Feeling disoriented and off balance from his unexpected touch, Torrance eyed the powerful width of his chest beneath the flannel shirt and fought the bizarre urge to step closer and nuzzle the strong, tanned column of his throat with her cold nose. He had the warmest skin she’d ever felt, as if he were burning inside with an inner fire that heated his body like a fever. She sighed, watching his large hand engulf her own, his thumb rubbing across the small vein beneath her skin in a soothing gesture that struck her as breathtakingly intimate, though the touch was innocent.

But it didn’t feel innocent.

“You’re going to have to come with me, Torrance.” His dark gaze—full of primitive, provocative intent—was piercingly direct as he stared down at her.

Her throat quivered, tongue flicking nervously at her bottom lip. She was so afraid, and yet, despite her fear, Torrance couldn’t deny that she was drawn to him. “I really don’t have any choice, do I?”

“Not if you want to live,” he answered in a low, husky rumble that trembled through her system.

She swallowed hard, her words shaky and soft. “Where will you take me?”

That powerful stare, so warm and chocolatey brown, impossibly…vividly sexy, slipped from the top of her head, down to her toes in a long, thorough sweep, then repeated the same path until he was once again staring into her eyes, making her world spin. “We’ll go home. Up to the mountains. To my cabin.”

Chapter 5

S he seemed to take a moment to absorb his answer, then finally nodded. The breath Mason hadn’t even realized he’d been holding released on a low, shaky sigh, at the same time a raw, powerful rush of anticipation surged through him. There was no denying that he wanted her—that his body craved her. But it was more than that. And the more was making him nervous as hell.

Releasing her hand, Mason reached into the pocket of his flannel shirt, took out her glasses, then handed them to her. “Here, I picked these up for you at your apartment.”

“Thanks.” She took the glasses, her cheeks flushed as she used the hem of her pale gray sweater to clean the lenses. Finally, after what seemed like a torturous, jaw-grinding eternity, she slipped them on and looked back up at him. “What will happen when we get there?”

Mason tried to control it, but he knew the smile curving his mouth had more than a little of his wolf in it. “Let’s just get you there in one piece,” he rasped in a low, uneven tone that had her beautiful, wary eyes going wide. “Then we can figure out what comes next, Tor.”

“I like the way you call me that,” she murmured, looking surprised by her admission. “Nobody’s ever called me Tor before,” she added awkwardly, running one hand through her hair in a nervous gesture that drew his eye. Yesterday, her hair had been braided, but today the lustrous tresses fell past her shoulders in a wild, silken mass of deep, dark red. He wanted to see her hair like that when she was under him, the fiery locks flowing over his pillows like a silken wash of crimson that caught every shimmering shift of light, while her eyes went heavy, clouded with pleasure—the image so erotic, it nearly took his breath. His mouth twisted with a wry grin, and Mason shook his head at his unprecedented reaction to her. “You do know that this is going to be hell on me, don’t you?”

“What is?”

His gaze rolled down the delicate lines of her body, lingering over the precious, provocative details, while his pulse roared in his ears. “Being near you.”

“Oh,” she breathed out softly. Mason could hear her fear in that single word, as well as caution…but there was also a touch of satisfaction, of interest.

He hoped to God he could control himself, because it was that last part that was going to kill him.

She was on the petite side, making him feel like a damn giant beside her, but for some reason it only upped his excitement. Since the day he’d first satisfied his body’s need for sexual release, Mason had adamantly avoided women her size, always feeling clumsy around them, too aware of how much bigger he was, how easy it would be to get too rough with them.

But not this time.

No, the primitive, wild side of his nature was raising its head and howling with feral anticipation, breathtaking fantasies burning like molten, flame-red embers through his mind, until she made a small, nervous sound in the back of her throat.

Before he could say something to reassure her, Jeremy walked over, flicking a quick look at the sturdy silver watch on his wrist. “It’s getting late. If you two are ready, we should hit the road.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, knowing they needed to make the mountains before nightfall. “Let’s get out of here.”

A minute later they were packed up in a rugged black Tahoe, the mud caked on its bumpers and wheels attesting to the mountain cabin Mason had mentioned. The interior smelled of luxurious leather and warm, male musk, as well as the earthy scents of the forest, making Torrance want to draw the heady mix into her lungs and hold it, enjoying something that was so elementally appealing—and yet so different from anything she’d known in life. Jeremy had offered to drive, snuffling a soft laugh under his breath when Mason readily accepted the offer and climbed into the backseat with her, making the large space seem almost cramped with his long legs and broad shoulders, not to mention the warm, vibrant energy that surrounded him.

“How long will the drive take?” she asked as they headed west, toward the mountains that ran through western Maryland and eastern Virginia. A steady case of nerves jittered through her system, and she found herself rubbing her damp palms across the tops of her thighs, toes curling girlishly within her shoes.

“Shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours, but it depends on traffic.” Mason sat with one arm braced along the door, dark eyes scanning the street, probably watching to see if they were being followed. He looked dark and dangerous, as if he could handle whatever life threw at him, reminding Torrance of how thoroughly opposite they were from each other. Yet she couldn’t deny that being close to him felt impossibly right. The fear was still there, she knew—but her powerful, breathtaking attraction to him continued to battle against it, demanding her focus.

Noticing the dark circles under his eyes, as well as the lines of strain that bracketed his sculpted mouth, she said, “You look tired.”

Another wry grin tipped the corner of his lips as he laid his head back against the seat. “Not sleeping for two days will do that to you.”

“You stayed up all night watching the house?”

“Yeah,” he rumbled, and then, as if he wanted to change the subject, he said, “Do you have any family? Anyone who will want to know where you are?”

“No, my mother died when I was twenty. There’s an aunt and uncle somewhere, but we’ve never kept in touch. I haven’t seen them in more than a decade.”

“Friends?”

“Only ones through work, and Mic will let them know that I’ve…gone out of town. What about my apartment?”

“I’ve sent a crew in to clean up,” he explained. “I asked them to pack up some clothes for you, so they should show up sometime tomorrow.”

“That’ll be good. Michaela loaned me these for today, but they’re all I’ve got.” And they obviously didn’t fit right. Mic had a killer figure…while the growth spurt Torrance had always hoped would round out her hips and chest had never arrived. Still, she loved the outfit Mic had let her borrow, the flowing skirt and soft cashmere sweater making her feel like a gypsy.

“You should have your stuff tomorrow by noon, at the latest.”

She nodded, and a softly charged silence settled between them, while they stared across the short space separating their bodies in the backseat. The country music Jeremy had turned on played softly in the background, and time just seemed to slip away. Torrance didn’t know how long she just looked at him, soaking up the mouthwatering, masculine view that made her feel all hot and hectic inside, while his heavy-lidded eyes moved over her face, before finally settling on her mouth. The longer he stared, the more her lips tingled.