Wolf's Promise

by Elyce de Reefe

  “Hi,” she said brightly.

  He grinned. “Hi. You look beautiful.” He reached out and touched her hair. Soft. Silky. “You changed your hair.”

  “Oh. Do you like it?” Her hand went up to touch it self-consciously.

  “Yeah. I liked the other too.” He couldn’t resist stroking it again. “It’s so smooth.”

  “Yeah,” she said with a little laugh. “It doesn’t always cooperate, but the humidity was low so I thought—” She broke off and smiled, giving a little shake of her head. “Never mind.

  “The restaurant’s right down there,” she said, pointing across the street to the left. “Shall we?”

  “Lead on,” Aaron said, but he held out his arm for her, and she took it. There was no shock this time, just the warmth of her body against his arm.

  She was wearing a black cape-like thing wrapped around her shoulders, and she seemed taller, only a few inches shorter than him. He glanced down at her feet, but all he could see was the pointy toe of her boots peeking out from under her pants. They must have heels.

  At the restaurant, Aaron helped her with her cape and felt like he was unwrapping a present. She was dressed all in silk, which eddied and flowed around her like water. The jacket and pants were dark grey and the blouse underneath was a soft cream. She had a silver chain belt circling her waist. She looked incredibly elegant and sexy as hell. She was also wearing silver at her neck, and glinting silver stars dangled from her ears. Did she think that would protect her? Get real. She has no idea what you are. And wouldn’t want anything to do with you if she did.

  They were seated at a table for two in the back. The place was nice, low lighting, candles on the tables, exposed brick walls. White tablecloths. He flipped open the menu. He could really go for a steak. Elizabeth and Mari did a great job in the kitchen, but they didn’t serve enough steak. He should pick up a grill. He grinned suddenly. He knew just where to get one.

  “So, Lyla, what would you like to drink? Do you want to start with a cocktail, or…” She’d said something about wine the other night, and the waiter would be over any second.

  “Um. I was thinking wine?”

  “Sure. What do you like, red? White?”

  “They had a really nice Malbec the last time I was here. Do you want to try that?”

  “Sounds good. Which one was that?” Maiden’s breath, he sounded like an idiot. Maybe the prohibition on dating wasn’t such a bad thing. He flipped open the wine list. She leaned in to point out the wine, and his mind went blank for a second. A hot rush of lust rolled over him as her scent hit him full in the face. When he could focus his eyes again, she was regarding him with a puzzled look on her face.

  “Or we could order a Zinfandel. Or maybe a Cabernet?”

  He smiled into her eyes. Her beautiful, mesmerizing eyes. “You like full-bodied wine. Malbec, Zin, Cab.” For some reason, she looked relieved. She probably thought he was some kind of rough-necked beer swiller. Not that he didn’t like beer.

  He should have worn something nicer. Not that he had anything nicer. A white button down and jeans was about it.

  “I like white wine too, but the way you asked,” she shrugged one shoulder and flushed slightly, “I thought you wanted to split a bottle. And… I kind of pegged you for a steak eater.”

  He grinned. “Guilty. What are you gonna to get?”

  “Oh, probably… steak.” She smiled, a flicker of mischief in her eyes, and his heart flipped over. Not good. Not good at all. There were good reasons why it was taboo to date humans. The moon is shrinking, there’s no danger—

  “Their fish is really good too, but—” another one of those little shrugs. “I guess I’m just not in the mood.”

  “Then the Malbec it is. Haven’t had a good Malbec in a while. Or the Zin.” He shrugged, trying to look casual. “Whatever you want.” Anything you want…

  “Let’s have the Malbec.”

  She sat back, and he breathed out. They’d made it through the wine order, and Aaron felt like he’d worked up a sweat. How did Jesse do this? Jesse goes to bars and picks up the easy ones. Not like Lyla.

  The waiter came to take their order, and conversation came easier after that.

  “So, you’re an artist. Your stained glass is really beautiful. How long have you been doing that?”

  “Oh, years. I used to sell it to shops in the city. Manhattan.” Her hands moved gracefully as she talked.

  “Manhattan. That’s a trip.”

  “I lived in Westchester. That’s where I grew up. My family’s still there. But—” One shoulder ticked up. “Well, I guess I just needed some space from them.” She smiled, but it looked tight. “Family expectations can be very— constraining.”

  Yeah. He could definitely relate to that. His family was great, but sometimes—

  “So you moved up here? When was that?” It was strange, this desire to find out everything he could about her. They only had one night…

  “A little over a year ago. My— my grandfather died. I hadn’t seen him since I was a girl, but it was still… I guess I always missed him. We seemed to understand each other.” She give him one of her depreciative shrugs, and Aaron nodded, not wanting to interrupt her. “Two fish out of water, I guess. Anyway, he left me the store and I just— moved.”

  She looked away, a small, sad smile on her face. “It’s nice sometimes, I feel closer to him here. But I wish I had come up sooner, when he was still alive.”

  Aaron reached out and covered her hand with his. Even her hands were soft. “I’m sorry to hear about your grandfather. It’s hard to lose someone close to you. Even if you haven’t seen them in a while.”

  “Thanks.” She gave him a small smile and pulled her hand away. Oops. He’d been cupping it, stroking his thumb along her palm. She seemed to shake herself. “What about you? Did you say you moved here, or…?”

  Okay. This was tricky. He didn’t want to build false expectations, but he couldn’t make himself lie either. “I’m helping my friend with a cabin he’s building.” That was true. “I’m not sure how long I’ll be here.” True too, they might have to leave in a hurry… “It seems like a nice place to live though.” He leaned forward. “Tell me the truth. What did you think about the winter?”

  She laughed, like he’d hoped she would. For him, it was no big deal, but for someone from Westchester…

  “Some of it was a little rough, I have to admit. But there’s a small apartment above the shop that I use when it gets really bad. That way I don’t have to drive when the roads are icy. And I also got some skiing in on the weekends.”

  “Oh, do you ski?” Dog’s teeth. Why did he ask her that? It wasn’t like they could go skiing together—

  “I love to ski. I never got to go that often, so I’m still mostly a beginner.” She gave him a big smile. “But that makes Titus Mountain perfect. It’s small enough that I didn’t have speed demons whipping by me every second. Plus, it has some beautiful runs. I don’t think I’ll get tired of it.”

  Aaron nodded, trying to come up with some way to change the subject. “I know what you mean. So, um… that’s where you live? Above the shop?”

  “No, my grandfather had a small farmhouse just south of Bellmont. I live there.” He went still. That was very close to pack territory. “It’s a nice little place. You can tell he really loved it.” She gave him another one of her brilliant smiles. His stomach tightened. “It has that—you know—that homey feel. I love it.”

  He tried for flip, but what came out of his mouth was, “I’d love to see it. You know—to check out that homey feeling.”

  She grinned at him. “Oh. Of course. To check out—” But she broke off as the waiter arrived with their meals.

  Aaron blew out a breath. So she lived close to the pack. That didn’t change anything. The moon is waning. This is not a problem. But he had a sinking feeling he was fooling himself.

  The food was good, and conversation slowed down for a while. They finished the fi
rst bottle of wine and started a second. They were halfway through that when Lyla asked if he had any siblings.

  “Oh, sure. I have three brothers. And my baby sister.” He felt a little burst of pride mingled with anxiety. Sisters were rare these days.

  “Wow. I’m an only child. I have my cousin, of course, she’s a little younger, but we’re not close. Are you close with them? Where do they live?”

  “They’re all up north. In Canada.” Duh. He just managed not to roll his eyes. Canada was about the only option to the north.

  “Do you miss them?”

  “Sometimes. Sometimes it’s nice not to be around. Not to feel responsible for every little thing. My brothers are perfectly capable, but if I’m around, I just—” He shrugged.

  “Oh. Responsible syndrome.” She nodded. “You must be the oldest.” She leaned forward, her expression grave. “Tell me, have you had this condition long?”

  They both laughed. Her face glowed in the candlelight. His family was great. He loved them. This was the first time he’d been away from them in years, not since college, and yeah, maybe he did worry too much. Still, he was doing his best to convince them to join Lucas’s pack. Before things got really bad with Marten. Before Marten ran the entire Mont-Tremblant pack into the ground.

  “I know what you mean though, Aaron. Sometimes it’s easier to just— remove yourself from the situation.” She gave him a penetrating look. “You know? To figure out who you really are.” Then she blushed. “Listen to me. Forty-two, and still finding myself. How pathetic. I guess I’m one of those late bloomers.”

  He gazed at her, so pale and lovely in the soft light. “I think you’re blooming beautifully, Lyla.”

  “Thanks.” She smiled into his eyes for one quick second, then glanced down.

  His heart thumped. He really wanted to touch her again, but he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to stop. These past two days, he’d convinced himself he’d imagined the power of her scent when they’d first met, but he hadn’t. He’d been getting little hits of it all evening. Every time someone moved through the restaurant, stirring the air. The effect seemed to be getting stronger. He had an almost overwhelming urge to wrap her in his arms. Clamp her tight to his body, run his hands—

  The waiter arrived to take away their dishes, breaking his train of thought. Aaron poured out the last of the wine. They sipped quietly for a moment or two.

  “Lyla, I’m not ready to take you home yet. How do you feel about a game of pool?”

  She gave him a brilliant smile. His heart skipped a beat.

  “That sounds great.”

  Chapter 3

  The bar was small and dark, and not particularly attractive, but it had a pool table in the back that wasn’t in use, and it was within walking distance, so Lyla didn’t care. It wasn’t the kind of place she’d ever go to alone, but with Aaron next to her, it was fine. It had been so long since she’d done anything but go home to an empty house. She really didn’t want the night to end. Aaron was sweet and attentive, and didn’t seem to mind that she had no idea how to play pool. He patiently showed her how to hold the cue, how to line up the shots, even set up practice shots for her. And he seemed quite happy to help her position her body properly, shifting her hips slightly, leaning over her back to help her position the cue…

  It was obvious a place like this wouldn’t have decent wine, so she’d switched to gin and tonic, which might have been a mistake— but she didn’t care about that either. She was having way too much fun. At some point in the evening, they abandoned the pool table in favor of the tiny dance floor situated next to a beautiful old jukebox. There was exactly one other couple dancing, but that was fine too. It was so nice to be in a man’s arms again. It had been years since anyone had held her close, swaying to the music, and she enjoyed every minute of it. Aaron’s body was really nice to be held against. The best. Firm and strong. Even when she tripped a little, he had no trouble keeping them upright. But as with all good things, eventually it came to an end.

  Her plan was to spend the night above the shop. There was no way she could drive home. Not in this condition. But Aaron offered to drive her, saying he still wanted to check out her house, and she wanted that too. Something about showing him her private little oasis appealed to her in a way she didn’t quite understand. Aaron, thankfully, seemed to have a much better tolerance for alcohol. Well, he had switched to beer instead of gin. Smart and attractive. Better and better.

  There was something else she hadn’t done in a really long time, and that was starting to seem like a great idea too.

  The drive to the house went quickly. Aaron was so easy to talk to and she wasn’t even nervous, which surprised her. They pulled up to her cute little farmhouse, glowing white in the light of the half moon, and Lyla felt an odd sense of pride. This was hers. This was… her.

  She fumbled a little with the key and Aaron’s arms came around her, pressing her back into him and steadying her hand. They stumbled over the threshold together. Lyla glanced around the small living room with the same sense of homecoming she always felt. The faded corduroy couch, the stone fireplace on the far wall, the battered oak coffee table— it all spoke of the man who’d once lived here, and offered more welcome than she’d experienced in many, many years. She turned in Aaron’s arms, stretching up to put her arms around his neck, trying to pull him down to her, wanting to kiss him. Wanting to share the joy of it all. Yes, it had been such a long time…

  Aaron managed not to inhale Lyla the second they crossed the threshold, but it was a near thing. He’d never been this out of control in his life. He even managed to get them into the bedroom before their clothes came off—well, mostly. Lyla had stripped his shirt off somewhere near the bottom of the stairs. After that, he shuffled them up the stairs in record time. Not that she resisted.

  He followed her across the threshold into her private domain, and paused. Moonlight shone through the bedroom windows, illuminating bare wood floors and a white down comforter spread across a large brass bed. The metal frame gleamed in the moonlight, creating shadows on the wall. For a moment, he couldn’t move. The image of her lying there flashed into his mind. The Princess and the Pea.

  Then Lyla slipped her fingers into the waistband of his jeans and pulled him to her. Her fingers were cool against his belly, making the muscles ripple and clench. She tipped her head back for a kiss and he ducked to meet her. When her mouth opened, his tongue followed. The taste of her—citrus, and spicy grapefruit—exploded on his senses. The exotic, intoxicating scent of her closed around him, and it took everything he had not to push her down on that bed.

  Her hands stole around his back, cool against his overheated flesh. The brush of silk against his bare chest sent shivers down his body. Through the fabric, the soft fullness of her breasts pressed against him. His breathing went ragged. He had to fight for control. He needed to touch her—feel her—skin to skin. His fingers fumbled as he worked to unhook the clasp of that slippery chain belt. Finally it opened, and he let it drop to the floor.

  After that, her clothes came off just like peeling an orange. Once he got started, the rest was easy. He slipped the jacket off her shoulders, letting it slide down her arms. He peeled her tank over her head. She stood before him, gazing up into his eyes. His breath caught at the sight. Her pale skin glowed in the moonlight. Delicate white lace encased beautiful, lush breasts. His mouth watered. He had to brace his knees and force himself not to rush.

  His hands trembled slightly as they closed over her waist. Urgency pounded through him. He spread his fingers wide, trying to touch as much of her as possible. She was warm, and silky, and smooth under his palms. The scent of her was all around him now, making his head spin. He slid his hands up her ribcage, absorbing the warmth, the smooth glide of her skin. He reached the barrier of her bra and paused. Then his hands closed over her breasts, the lace an exotic counterpoint to the smoothness of her skin. He flicked his thumbs over her nipples. She gasped. The sound jolted
through him like fire. This bra had to come off. Now.

  His fingers fumbled with the front clasp, but he got it open and her full breasts tumbled out, ripe and ready for his touch. He cupped them, feeling their weight, pressing the tips. Her soft groan almost sent him over the edge. He stared down at his hands, darker against her pale flesh, and shuddered. Her pink nipples called to him, erect and waiting. Bending, he licked the curving side of one breast, savoring the taste of her skin, the sound of her breath catching. He pulled the nipple into his mouth and sucked. She made a noise deep in her throat. Fire ignited in his body, hot and savage. Just like that, his control snapped. Gone was any chance he had of slowing this down.

  He thrust his hands inside the elastic of her pants and pushed them down her hips. His hands closed over the succulent curves of her ass, hauling her to him. The warmth of her skin against his was like magic. Only the silky fabric of her panties separated them now. She squeaked when he lifted her off her feet, leaving her pants to puddle on the floor.

  “Aaron, what are you—”

  “Shhh…” he said, “we need the bed for this.” He carried her the three steps necessary and flipped back the bedcovers. Laying her down, he just had the presence of mind to grab a condom from his pocket before shucking his jeans. He lowered himself over her, the heat of her skin gliding along the length of him.

  Driving, pounding urgency shuddered through him in waves. It was like nothing he’d ever experienced. Slow down. Slow. Down. He didn’t want to scare her. But she was moving against him, making those little sounds, and he really didn’t think he could. He needed inside her. Now.

  Lyla inhaled the warm scent of Aaron’s skin as he pressed her down into the mattress. That was a really good smell. The weight of his body, the warm resilience of his flesh against hers sent hot waves of desire arcing through her. He kissed her, his hands closing over her breasts, and Lyla groaned into his mouth. His thumb flicked over one nipple, and sensation exploded, shooting straight down between her legs. She was never like this, but she felt wild for him, squirming and needy. And it felt good.