of glass.
“It’s a sleigh.”
“It looks delicious.”
Maralee glanced at the child, shocked.
“You don’t mean the horse?”
Carsha seemed to realize she had said
something wrong. “I’m sorry.”
Maralee smiled in understanding. “It’s
all right. We don’t eat horses. They are
our friends.”
Carsha gave her an odd look. “If you
say so.”
Maralee chuckled uneasily. “I’m ready
to go. Are you done looking around?”
Carsha nodded. Maralee slipped her
knapsack over both shoulders and took the
girl’s small hand again. They took the
stairs down to the tiny lobby, which was
no more than a counter in a narrow
hallway. Carsha watched with interest as
Maralee paid for her room and their
breakfast, and then followed her silently
out into the street.
Nash was already waiting for them,
overburdened with wares.
“I don’t know how we’re going to get
home carrying all of this stuff,” he
grumbled.
Maralee removed her knapsack. “Put
some in here,” she said. “There’s room.”
He didn’t protest when she began to
cram things into her knapsack. He did
when she tried to carry it.
“That’s too heavy for you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said. “Do I
look like a delicate flower?”
“Yes.”
His response surprised her. She
recovered quickly. “Well, I’m as sturdy as
a pack mule,” she informed him, returning
her knapsack to her back. It was far
heavier than she had anticipated, but she
would never let him know she was
struggling to retain an upright position.
“Here, Carsha,” he said. “You carry
these.”
He put something in Carsha’s hand and
she gazed down at a pair of barrettes.
They were in the shape of a row of small
daisies.
“Oh,” she said, looking up at her uncle
with typical adulation.
“Someone already bought the ones you
wanted,” he said.
“I like these better,” Carsha said.
Maralee smiled. What a thoughtful
man. She would hold on to the dragonfly
barrettes for a while longer. She didn’t
want to make Nash’s gift seem less
enchanting to the pixie princess.
“I want to wear them,” Carsha said,
holding them up to Nash. “Now, please.”
Nash glanced at Maralee, pleading for
assistance with his eyes.
“When we get home I’ll brush your
hair for you and fix it with your new
barrettes,” Maralee promised. “My brush
is all the way at the bottom of my bag.”
This seemed to appease the child. She
tucked her present into her pocket and
shifted her bundle of rabbit furs and the
handkerchief full of cookies into a more
secure position in both arms.
“Stay right with us,” Nash said to his
niece as he lifted several large and
cumbersome packages.
“Don’t worry about me. I’m a big
girl,” she informed him. She stayed with
them however, the entire long and
strenuous walk home.
CHAPTER 13
The moment they entered Nash’s
cabin, Carsha began to insist Maralee fix
her hair.
“We have to put all of these things
away first,” Maralee said.
Carsha’s pout was most unbecoming.
“Stop
pestering
Maralee,”
Nash
demanded, more than a little tired and
grumpy from carrying pounds upon pounds
of Maralee’s strange foodstuffs through
the forest.
“In a minute,” Maralee promised.
The girl sighed, resigned to her fate,
and sat on the living room floor to inspect
her bundle of cookies. Maralee and Nash
headed for the kitchen to put away their
heavy load. The process of finding
locations for things he did not recognize
overwhelmed him. Eventually, he merely
She seemed to fit there, and he found
himself imagining what it would be like to
always have her with him. When she
noticed his staring, she watched him over
her shoulder, her silver gray eyes wide
with question.
“Is something wrong?” she asked.
“Only one thing.” His pulse throbbed,
as it did whenever he was alone with her.
She
glanced
at
her
handiwork
nervously. “I could rearrange these
things,” she said, and looked at him again.
He took a step closer and she turned to
face him. A delightful blush crept up her
neck and face. She was beautiful. He
especially liked the way she looked when
he unsettled her. She had that beguiling,
bewildered look on her face at that very
moment.
“That isn’t what’s wrong,” he said,
voice taking on a husky quality as he
closed the gap between them.
“Then what?” Her voice was so quiet
as she stared up at him he wouldn’t have
heard her if there had been any distance
between them.
“I haven’t kissed you yet today.”
“Oh.”
His mouth covered hers. He shuddered
when her lips parted, seeking the deep,
longing kisses that made his blood run hot.
His kind didn’t kiss often and never like
this. He’d had no idea how much pleasure
could be shared by the caress of lips on
lips, tongue on lips, tongue on tongue. Her
arms went up to circle his neck as he
deepened the kiss. He tugged her closer,
his fingers clutching the fabric of her pants
at her hips with desperation. The soft
globes of her breasts pressed into his
chest, yet he felt she wasn’t close enough.
He crushed her against him, lust swirling
through his body. God, he wanted her,
even if it had to be in his human form.
“Maralee, what’s taking you so long?”
Carsha called, her voice growing louder
as she walked toward the kitchen.
Nash tore away from Maralee,
avoiding her eyes as the small girl entered
the room. Maralee returned to her task.
“Almost finished,” Maralee said, her
voice sounding husky with need. Nash’s
groin tensed at the sound of it.
His niece, God love her. He had never
wanted to throw her out in yard before,
but he did now.
He watched Maralee. His consuming
need for her bewildered him. Why her?
There were plenty of women of his own
kind who were beautiful and sexy, but
when he compared them to this bullheaded
little Huntress they all seemed as dull and
uninspired.
Nash’s gaze settled on the gentle curve
of Maralee’s rear as she bent over the
counter, and then shifted to the cleft
between her legs. He could smell her
excitement and it did strange things to his
ability to think rationally. At least he
didn’t shift into his Wolf form as he had
that morning for the sole purpose of
increasing the keenness of his sense of
smell. “Carsha, maybe you should go
home now.”
“But why? Maralee hasn’t fixed my
hair yet.”
Maralee chanced a glance at him over
her shoulder and he looked at the ceiling.
If she knew what he was thinking at the
moment, she’d probably head directly for
the safety of the inn.
“I’m going for a walk,” he decided
finally.
He avoided looking at Maralee as he
headed for the door. She seemed equally
uneasy in his presence.
“This is never going to work,” he said
to himself as he lit a cigarette on the
porch. He took a deep drag and let out a
more relaxed breath. “How am I supposed
to convince her we aren’t a bunch of
animals when I behave like a beast
whenever I’m alone with her?”
“Talking to yourself, Nash?”
His mother appeared at the foot of his
steps and smiled at him indulgently.
“Yeah.”
village?” she asked.
“Fine.” He wondered what she was
doing here.
“I just came to check on Carsha,”
Stacia said. It was uncanny how the
woman always seemed to read his mind.
“I saw you return.”
“She’s fine. Had a great time.”
“They didn’t stare at you. Make you
feel like a sideshow attraction.”
“A few,” Nash admitted. “Some of
them are very kind.” He thought of the
innkeeper’s wife and how she’d brought a
smile to Carsha’s face.
“And some of them murder our kind
for the bounties our dead bodies bring.”
He knew she was referring to
Maralee. “She won’t. Not when she
realizes we are as human as we are
Wolf.”
“Some of us are trying to be something
we’re not.”
He
avoided
responding
to
her
comment. He didn’t agree with her. He
was as much human as he was Wolf,
though he found himself changing his
habits to make Maralee feel more at ease.
That trip through the forest would have
been swift and easy in his Wolf form, yet
he’d gone the entire distance on two legs.
In time, he would reveal his secret to her.
He had to admit just thinking about her
reaction ate at his gut. If he told her,
would she ever be able to see him as
anything but an animal?
“I’ll go see if Carsha is ready to
leave,” he said, forgetting his original
intention to go for a walk.
He snuffed the butt of his cigarette
beneath the heel of his boot and let himself
into the house. He did not invite his
mother inside, presuming she would say
something to distress Maralee or remind
her to start asking for her damned sword
again.
He
found
the
source
of
his
preoccupation kneeling on the bearskin
rug behind Carsha. Maralee ran a large
brush through Carsha’s thick, dark gray
hair. His niece had a look of pure bliss on
her face.
“Your hair is so soft,” Maralee said,
seeming to find enjoyment in brushing
Carsha’s long, straight hair.
“That feels good,” Carsha murmured,
opening her eyes slightly to look at Nash.
“Uncle Nash, you should let Maralee
brush your hair too.”
“Probably not a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“Grandmother is waiting for you
outside,” he said, purposely changing the
subject.
“Oh,” Maralee said. “We’d better
hurry then.”
She set the brush aside and fastened
Carsha’s hair back on either side of her
face with the pair of daisy barrettes. She
smiled at her handy work.
“You
look
beautiful,”
Maralee
declared. “Doesn’t she, Nash?”
He was gazing at Maralee when he
responded. “Yeah.”
Maralee smiled, seemingly oblivious
to the effect she was having on him.
Carsha climbed to her feet and grabbed
her furs and bundle of cookies. Maralee
watched as the girl took her hand and
licked the back of it before skipping
towards the door and letting herself
outside.
“That was a kiss,” Nash told Maralee
who was staring at the wet spot on the
back of her hand with a puzzled
expression on her face.
She looked up at him, her eyes resting
on his mouth. “Kiss?”
His pulse accelerated and he knew
they were both thinking the same thing.
Their kiss had been interrupted and
neither of them had had their fill as of yet.
“I’ll start the fire,” Nash said. He
needed to keep busy or he’d be making
some very bad decisions that might
compromise his ultimate goal, which was
not, despite the insistence of his body,
heart, and mind, to possess Maralee in
every sense of the word.
“I think I’ll go wash up and change
clothes,” Maralee said.
Nash glanced at her. “There’s a water
closet behind the cold room.”
She nodded, with a slight smile.
“Thank you.”
She left the room, taking her knapsack
with her and Nash started the fire, staring
at the flickering flames for what seemed
like hours before she returned. She was
freshly scrubbed and clean, her hair damp
from being washed. The perfume of her
soap and shampoo masked the delightful
scent of her body, but Nash knew better
than to voice a protest. She already
thought he was strange.
“I forgot my brush,” she said, her gaze
darting around the room to look at
anything but him.
The brush was lying on the bearskin
rug near him, but he didn’t hand it to her.
He waited for her to come closer to
retrieve it. He wasn’t even sure what he
was thinking of doing until she knelt down
and picked up the brush. He caught her
hand. Their gazes locked.
“I’ll brush your hair for you,” he said.
She couldn’t l
ook away. He was
purposely encouraging her submission
with his hypnotic gaze, a gaze that could
turn a pack of mad Wolves into obedient
puppies. He probably shouldn’t use his
power over her, but she had a stubborn
streak and he was used to getting his way.
He urged her to sit in front of him and took
the brush in his hand, drawing it through
her waist-length black hair. Her breathy
sighs of contentment soon had him worked
up again. He dropped the brush and
burrowed his fingers into the silky strands.
She pulled away from him abruptly, and
he decided he had pushed her too far, yet
again.
He was astonished when she turned
around and pushed him onto his back
rather forcefully. She rose above him on
her hands and knees, one knee between his
legs uncomfortably close to certain
swelling parts of his anatomy. She had one
hand planted on either side of his chest.
Her hair drifted down around them like a
curtain of black silk. She stared down at
him, taking the role of the aggressor. She
seemed to be waiting for something as she
watched him for his reaction.
“Maralee,” he murmured, not sure
what she was expecting him to do.
She lowered her head and kissed his
lips gently before straightening again.
“What—”
She kissed him again, straightened and
continued to stare down at him.
Was she teasing him? Trying to take
him to his breaking point? He was nearly
there, he had to admit.
“Maralee?”
“I like you like this,” she murmured,
with a mischievous grin. She kissed him
more passionately this time, drawing a
sigh of protest from him when she pulled
away at last. “You seem almost
vulnerable.”
Vulnerable? He had never been
referred to as vulnerable in all of his one
hundred and twelve years. She leaned
forward again, this time her hip brushed
his cock, drawing a shuddering gasp from
his lips. She seemed to like this new game
of hers.
“Do you like that?” she asked him,
lowering her hips and rubbing against him
again.
Lord, it was sensitive. So responsive
to her teasing touch.
“God,” he gasped, eyes drifting
closed, fingers curling in the thick fur of
the bearskin beneath him. He wanted to
bury himself inside her. Needed to.
“I think you’re starting to realize how I
feel,” she murmured, running her tongue
over his lips, pressing her hip against him
more firmly. “You want me, but you’re not