A Howl for a Highlander
Page 33

 Terry Spear

  • Background:
  • Text Font:
  • Text Size:
  • Line Height:
  • Line Break Height:
  • Frame:

She bounced around him first, excited to play as he grinned at her. She lunged, jumping on top of him. He fell back as she bit into his neck with a playful bite. He growled and snapped at her in a mock fight. She jumped away from him, then dove again, impacting with his body. He stood his ground, letting her tackle him, allowing her to bite him. He grabbed at her nuzzle, more in a love bite than real battle. She wanted to throw back her head and laugh, but she growled instead, wanting him to give her real competition.
His tail was wagging, his ears perked, his tongue lolling to the side. She jumped to tackle his neck and hung her forelegs over his back. With high spirits, Duncan dislodged her, tackled her, and brought her down, licking and chewing on her neck and muzzle. She loved it, loved that he was pinning her down and forcing her to fight him, but still in a sweet way. She doubted he would be half as gentle or loving with his brothers or male cousins. She wanted to see him play with his male siblings, to see how vigorously they fought in mock battle.
Growling and snapping, she kicked at him with her feet until he lay crosswise on top of her and licked her muzzle, and she gave in. As soon as she shifted into human form underneath his furry body, he licked her nipple and she laughed. Then he shifted also, still on top of her, only skin to skin as humans. “Lass, you are no beta female, if that’s what you’re worried about. Are you ready to retire for what’s left of the night?”
She lay on her back on the carpet smiling up at him. “You have to fight harder next time.”
“Aye, I will,” he promised with a sparkle in his eyes, but she presumed he wouldn’t really. Not like he would with his brothers, in any case. Maybe that was just as well.
He pulled her up from the floor and kissed her lips, his hands roaming down her back and buttocks. “When you crawled out of bed before you shape-shifted, I nearly returned to human form and carried you back to bed.”
She laughed and squeezed his ass. “I’m glad you didn’t and played with me as a wolf instead.”
She retrieved her phone and turned it back on.
“Put it on vibration, in case we get frisky and someone wants to call and annoy us in the middle of the night,” Duncan warned. He slipped into bed with her, spooning her and intending to wait until her breathing was soft and slow—like that of a sleeper who was dead to the world— before he left her.
He couldn’t tell her what he intended to do, because knowing her, she’d want to go with him. He wasn’t having any of it. This business with Silverman was his job, not hers. He wanted her safe and sound and sleeping until the next time they made love.
Forty-five minutes later, Duncan was finally able to slip out of bed, believing she was asleep. He watched Shelley for what seemed an eternity, waiting to see if she woke and noticed he’d left the bed. She didn’t stir, too tired from all their love bouts. He breathed in her fragrance one last time—the feminine, musky, sweet scent of her—and damn if his libido didn’t ratchet up a couple of notches.
Before he changed his mind and began to make love with her again, he headed naked for the back door of the villa, opened and closed it, then shifted. He hadn’t thought he’d be scent-marking his territory on the island, nor would he have if he’d actually had a room at a hotel like he’d first planned. Everything had changed when he had gotten involved with a sizzling hot she-wolf. He was playing for keeps.
As he loped around the perimeter of the villa, he only thought to show Sal that Shelley was his—as well as the villa, the territory surrounding it, and even the beach and the sea that caressed it. That any wolf who crossed that line was in serious trouble. Wolves killed other wolves that were not of their pack and invaded their territory. The need to do so was just as strong with a werewolf who was protecting his own.
Instinctively, the wolf half of him had to do his bit to ensure Sal knew it beyond a doubt. Sal hadn’t done so around his own property, which had surprised Duncan. He wondered if that was because Sal didn’t often release the wolf side of his nature. Or maybe Sal didn’t feel the right to claim territorial possession because the money that had undoubtedly paid for it all wasn’t his. Or maybe Sal just didn’t feel he needed to prove anything to anyone.
Duncan left a few calling cards around Sal’s estate also. With a smile.
After all, with all the money Sal had stolen, this could very well have been Duncan’s pack’s estate. Marking it as his own enforced the claim that it was theirs, not Sal’s.
What Duncan hadn’t expected when he returned to the villa—with his she-wolf sleeping soundly inside—was to discover two men snooping around the perimeter.
Two men who were wolves.
Chapter 14
As soon as Duncan smelled the two male wolves in human form near the villa, the fur on the nape of his neck stood on end. Truth be told, his whole wolf coat fluffed with aggression, making him appear even larger than he was.
If the men had seen him, they would have known he was a hair’s breadth short of attacking them. However, he was afraid that as soon as he attacked, his growling and snapping jaws and their frantic cries would awaken Shelley. He didn’t doubt she’d come out to help him. Somehow, he needed to draw them away from the villa before he showed them what he was made of.
They had to smell his scent markings and realize he was damned serious that any wolf in the vicinity should know to keep his distance. These men probably assumed that Duncan was snuggled in bed with the she-wolf, not standing out here in the dark and sensing them while they observed the villa.
“I don’t have a good feeling about this,” the first man groused. “I know you said he’s got to be inside with her, but, hell, I swear he’s just remarked the area with his scent, as fresh as it smells. If that’s so, he might very well be out here still… with us.”
The other man didn’t say anything, just crept toward the house, his eyes glued on the villa. Either he wasn’t afraid of meeting Duncan out here, so he wasn’t looking out for him, or he was like Sal might also be, not used to being a wolf. That would make him more wary and cautious, constantly on the alert when faced with the danger of a wolf fight. The other man’s head kept swiveling around like an owl’s, peering into the darkness and watching for any signs of Duncan.
Two male wolves to one were not good odds in wolf-to-wolf combat. In his wolf form, Duncan could handle a couple of humans, but only if neither was armed with knives or guns. He could manage one of these wolves before the other responded, though.
Still, he waited, listening, anticipating their next move and trying to determine what they were about. If they thought he and Shelley were in bed together, what did they hope to accomplish?
They came into view around a stand of palms, both men slightly bent in a crouch to be inconspicuous. Were they armed?
Both wore black jeans and black boots, but one had on a button-down, charcoal gray shirt with the sleeves rolled up, while the other had a crinkled black polo. Neither looked to be carrying a gun, but they could easily be sporting knives. They were muscular, tall, and looking for trouble.
“Wait,” the talkative one said, the one in the polo shirt. He was dark haired, yellow eyed, and wearing a two-day growth of beard, with a long, hard jaw. He had a swagger to his step, like he owned the world, as if the other man’s silence and steady approach toward the house assured him that they’d run into no trouble.
They must not have dealt with a Highland wolf before.
Big Talker suddenly stopped, lifted his nose, and took in a deep breath. “We’re just supposed to scout the area. We don’t need to get any closer to the house. Not right now.” So a case of nerves was finally melting his steel exterior.
Again, Duncan wondered what the hell the two planned on doing.
The other man paused, his dirty blond hair streaked with red highlights, his chin smooth and stubby, his gray eyes narrowed as he studied the house. They were still a good three hundred yards from the back porch. The waves crashed along the beach, the wind flapping the palm fronds about, particles of sand shifting, a bank of clouds obscuring the moon as the two men remained half-hidden in the stand of palms.
Duncan hadn’t seen either of these men before. He thought they must have arrived at the island today or been in hiding all this time. But he suspected the former was true. Sal must have figured that since he couldn’t persuade Duncan to leave Shelley for a small amount of money, maybe some wolf muscle would do the trick. Sal didn’t have the strength to fight Duncan on his own.
The dirty blond took another step toward the house. “I don’t want to wait. We don’t get paid if we don’t take care of business. The sooner we take care of this, the sooner we’re outta here.”
Duncan let out a very low threatening growl, warning them not to get any closer. The natural instinct erupted before he could even think further of the consequences. He wasn’t worried about the villa or the territory around it. Shelley being inside the house concerned him the most. Big Talker stood rooted to the ground as if he’d become one of the palm trees he was standing between. The dirty blond twisted his head in the direction he heard the ferocious growl come from. Both men’s eyes were wide as they tried to see Duncan in the dark.
Neither man said a word. Neither moved an inch.
This was when they’d pull weapons—if they had them—and stand and fight. Or begin yanking off clothes to shift into the wolf with the same intent, only planning to fight wolf to wolf. Or back away slowly so to not further antagonize one pissed-off wolf, which was the only way they would get out of here alive.
Duncan needed to wait and see how each of them reacted. For now, the two men couldn’t see Duncan; they could only hear another rumble of menacing ferocity slip between his bared teeth.
He was concentrating so hard on the men’s reactions, although he seemed to have turned them to stone, that he didn’t at first notice the smell of her—Shelley—somewhere in the direction of the men.
He stood up straighter, frowning, smelling the air. The men slowly turned, realizing that she was behind them and they could smell her scent. They didn’t move quickly, maybe concerned she might take anyone’s sudden movement as a threat to her well-being. Duncan’s heart instantly leapt with distress as he realized she was behind the men, meaning they were between him and his mate.