Wolf howled louder; Sin bumped Paul in the leg with her nose and directed a query to Caroline. Should I bite him?
No, Caroline answered hurriedly. He’s your friend, the same as me.
“Apologize to Andrew,” Paul ordered.
Caroline groaned. She wanted to punch Andrew Dulac’s smug mouth. Frustrated because the truth coiled inside her like a deadly snake with no place to strike, she turned her ferocity toward the tall, equally fierce man in front of her.
“Try to carry me out of here, pal, and you’ll be wearing your ears for cuff links,” she threatened.
Paul’s eyes flickered with regret. In one swift movement he pulled her right arm up, bent forward, and carefully shoved one brawny shoulder into her midsection. Caroline found herself hanging upside down over his back. Her voluminous yellow skirt tangled between her legs, and Paul anchored one arm behind her knees.
He started toward the truck, his strides swift and angry. Caroline made a hoarse sound of defeat as she thumped at his unrelenting back.
“I can explain,” she said.
“Impossible.”
God help me, she thought, while the utter hopelessness of the situation sank in. There was only one thing she could do, and Paul might not ever get over it.
“We’ve got to take Sin away from here! Dulac uses her as bait to train pit bull terriers to kill!”
Paul halted so quickly that she almost slid off his shoulder. He set her down and stared at her in shock.
“Hey!” Dulac interjected, his voice high and frightened. “Hey, doc, you tell that woman not to accuse me of things like that!”
Paul gazed from her to the white-faced farmer, whose discomposure was evident even in the dim light. “You’ve never met Andrew before.”
She shook her head wearily. “I just know. Trust me.”
“She’s crazy!” Dulac yelled. “That bleedin’ heart Américaine bitch is trying to get my dog anyway she can!”
Paul’s head snapped up, and he seared Dulac with a lethal gaze. Caroline didn’t have to understand French to know that what he said to the farmer in her defense could never be repeated in polite company.
His attention finally swiveled back to her. “What do you know about Andrew? This is a bad accusation. How do you know? Who told you?”
Caroline muffled an anguished sob. “He took Sin someplace where people train pit bulls to fight. He and his cronies use dogs like Sin as blood bait.” She was shaking so hard that she could barely stand still. “Most of the bait animals don’t survive. Most of them are puppies and kittens, or old animals that can’t fight. But Sin is smart and tough. She survived.”
Caroline wavered until suddenly Paul reached out with both hands and caught her under the elbows. She begged him with her eyes. “Dulac has used her for this before. Usually he keeps her out of sight until she heals. If you check under her coat you’ll find scars all over her.”
“Nobody’s touching my dog!” Dulac cried. “Sin! You get! Get!”
Caroline, tears streaming down her face, shut her eyes and said softly, “Sin, come here and lay down by me.”
She studied Paul’s incredulous expression as he watched Sin limp to her and settle carefully by her sandaled feet. Breathing roughly, he dropped to his heels and slid his fingers into her coat.
In the background Dulac sputtered and threatened. Caroline knelt beside Paul and watched his hands gently search the dog’s body. His earlier expression of astonishment was nothing compared to the one that came over his face now.
Then fury supplanted it. He got to his feet so fast that both Caroline and Sin jumped. Striding toward Dulac, he muttered, “I’m takin’ your dog.”
“You can’t prove anything!” Dulac screamed.
Paul said something vicious in French. Then he went to the shed and split the thin plank door with one well-placed kick.
Wolf shot out and immediately dropped to a deadly crouch, his eyes on Dulac. “No,” Paul ordered. “Wolf. Allez. There are better ways to settle this.”
Caroline wobbled to her feet. Wolf. It’s over. Let’s take your mate and go home.
Wolf snarled at Dulac, stalked over to Paul, shoved his nose into Paul’s hand with blunt affection, then came to Caroline and Sin.
His scarred, abused mate whimpered, wagged her tail fervently, and reached up to touch her battered nose to his elegant silver muzzle. Wolf gave her face a gentle lick, then looked at Caroline with solemn dignity.
Thank you. No more sadness under our eyes.
Eight
Darkness had fallen, and light from a lamppost cast long shadows on the truck. Paul noticed that Caroline shifted position so that her face was hidden in them. He got goose bumps at the thought of learning every secret hidden behind her scarred but beautiful mask. Paul lowered the tailgate and held out his arms.
“Come here, sorceress, and bring your apprentices.”
Still cuddling Sin on her lap, Caroline studied him with troubled eyes. “Thank you for believing what I said about Dulac I’m not crazy.”
“I didn’t say you are.” Paul sighed, leaned forward, and braced his hands on the truck bed, his eyes riveted to hers. “Let’s you and me have a talk, yes? I want to know what kind of power you have with animals.”
Her reaction was immediate and frightened. She stroked Sin’s head rapidly, opened her mouth to speak, shut it, looked at Wolf as if searching for help, then finally set Sin off her lap and scrambled to her feet with quick, angry movements.
“Wolf doesn’t need my help anymore. I’m going back to California. Tonight.” Her voice was icy.
Paul gazed up at her in astonishment at the change from tender to tough. “The hell you are.”
“Don’t boss me, doc. I’ll go get my things together.”
She started forward, hesitated awkwardly when she saw that he wasn’t about to move out of her way, then hurried to the side of the truck and began to climb over. Her face was constricted with hidden emotion, and she knotted one hand over her stomach in anxiety.
He reached her before she swung her feet to the ground. “Time to face the music, chère,” he said grimly, and grabbed her by one wrist.
She raged when he slung her facedown over one shoulder and pinned her in place with his arms. Paul staggered into the house while she struggled desperately and burned the air with oaths. By the time he reached the top of the stairs and entered his bedroom he knew that he’d have bruises where her sharp-toed sandals had pummeled his legs and her fists had thudded against his back.
He dropped her in the middle of his bed. “I’ll be back after I make my rounds,” he told her. “Meantime, you’re not goin’ anywhere. Get ready to tell me the truth about your hokus-pokus.” He added wryly, “And don’t call any llamas or cats to rescue you.”
She shoved herself into a sitting position, her yellow dress twisted, legs splayed, hair tousled over her eyes like a red-gold curtain, and her mouth ajar at his tactics. Then she yelped with fury. “It won’t work. I don’t have anything to tell you. I’m just a good animal trainer.”
He described that claim with a hearty barnyard epithet as he strode to a heavy teakwood dresser. Paul flicked a lamp on, then pulled a long key from a creaking dresser drawer.
“Love this old house,” he said jovially, holding the key aloft for Caroline’s perusal. “The bedroom doors lock from the outside.”
“Don’t!”
“Too late.”
He walked out the door, slammed it shut, and turned the key.
Caroline paced. She pounded one fist on the side of an antique oak dresser and kicked one massive leg of his barbarian bed.
I can’t tell him the truth. He’ll think I’m a nut.
Caroline strained her ears, listening to sounds in the rooms below as he returned from making his nightly rounds to check on both animals and staff. Her heart threatened to dent her chest when his footsteps reverberated on the staircase.
She walked numbly to a window and stood with her back to t
he door, hugging herself. Chills ran down her spine when the key rattled in the lock. Caroline stared resolutely into the night.
Paul stepped into the room and shut the door. His voice came to her, low and firm, but pleasant. “Relax, chère, and come here.”
“I want out of this room.” Caroline stiffened even more and kept gazing into the night.
“Nope.”
She stifled a cry of dismay as she heard the key turning once more in the lock. There were other sounds then—soft, creaking ones—and she realized that Paul had settled on his bed.
“Got a bottle of wine and a bowl of seafood gumbo here,” he offered politely. “Got a comfortable place to sit. Shame if you don’t share with me.”
Caroline swung about angrily, her hands clenched. He sat on the bed with one leg dangling casually over the side, a tray containing the gumbo and wine set in front of him on the thick, multicolored quilt. The light of the lamp placed him half in shadow and half out, making the whole scene disastrously intimate.
The barbarian king had come to claim his prisoner.
She shivered and fought a knot of despair in her throat. “Let me go,” she asked wearily.
He shook his head and scrutinized her with an intense, unwavering gaze. “You talk.”
“I … no.”
“Coward.”
Caroline made a plaintive sound of distress. “Without a doubt.”
“You gonna leave me just because you’re afraid to tell your secrets about animals, yes?”
“Yes.”
“You think I’ll take advantage of them? Of you?”
“It’s not that, no.”
He put the tray on a bedside table and came to her quickly. Taking her cold, damp hands, he rubbed his thumbs over her palms and said hoarsely, “Good. I love you, Caroline.”
His announcement made her gaze at him in torment. His intense blue eyes refused to give her solace; he demanded answers.
But then he frowned. “Do you love me?” he asked in a low, troubled voice. “I’m talking about the important kind of love. Be honest. No hiding.”
Her fingers dug into his. “Blue. I … this isn’t going to work.” He looked so worried that her resolve fell apart and her shoulders slumped. “Yes. Yes. I love you.”
“Bien. That makes the rest easy.”
She almost drowned in the rapt pleasure that heated his eyes. Caroline added in a tearful voice, “You’re wrong. I’d do anything for you—except live in Louisiana or explain how I work with animals.”
He shook his head patiently. “Not good enough. You’ll change your mind about staying here. Don’t you think I’ve noticed the moon-eyed way you look at this house and everything around it? You’re at home. To hell with the rest of the state.”
She gave a strangled laugh. “I grew up wanting desperately to be somebody, and I made it come true. Now I live in a style that most of the world envies. I’m accepted by important people, people with power and money and fame.”
She ground her hands against his chest and gazed at him in anguish. “If I live here I’ll only be the daughter of an Américain fool and a Cajun tramp whose nasty deaths are probably remembered by every old-timer in southern Louisiana.”
He grasped her head between his hands and said in a gentle retort, “You’ll be Caroline Belue, the lady of Grande Rivage, the lady with a soul so sweet that kids and animals love her at first sight.”
Caroline stared at him wordlessly until she found enough breath to speak. “Caroline Belue?”
“I could adopt you, but I think gettin’ married would be a better way to change your name.” He covered her mouth with one hand. “We’ll talk about that later.”
She wrenched her head to one side. “No. Didn’t you hear anything I just said?”
He sighed. “I don’t listen with my ears.”
Caroline backed away from him rapidly. He stepped forward and snatched her into his arms. Bending his weathered, rugged face close to hers, he whispered, “It’s time we did everything for each other. I want to know how you taste, how you feel under my hands, how those odd, pretty eyes of yours will look when I’m movin’ inside you. I want to please you and make you forget everything bad that ever happened to you.”
The breath soughed out of her in a soft moan. His voice dropped even lower. “But I can’t do that if I don’t understand you. Now tell me how you knew that Dulac was using his dog to train pit bulls.”
Caroline braced her hands against his chest and ducked her head. “You won’t believe me.”
He persisted. “Yes, I will. How did you know how Sin got hurt?”
Caroline struggled, shoving at him with both hands. “I’m suffocating. Let me go, let me go. I’ll tell you if you let me go.”
“Easy, shhh. All right.” He released her. She darted past him and ran to one of the archaic, oversized windows. Caroline snapped the center clasp open and flung both panels wide.
Paul vaulted toward her. “No!”
Caroline gaped at him. “I’m a freak, but I’m n-not a jumping freak!”
He halted, frowning. Breathing roughly and half-crying, she braced her palms on the window facings and drew deep breaths while a night breeze draped the filmy white curtains around her.
Finally he gestured vaguely. “What do you mean, you’re a freak?”
“I m-mean … oh, hell.” Her head sank forward as despair crashed down on her, making it difficult to talk. “I mean that I … have a power that nobody will understand or believe.” Old bitterness surged into her throat. “You won’t either.”
“Try me.”
“I told my stepparents about it when I was twelve years old. They thought I was lying, that I was trying to get attention. I spent months on restriction, and when I kept telling them that I wasn’t lying they sent me to a psychiatrist.”
“Why, Caro? Caro?”
“Hurts. Wait.” She pointed to her throat. Caroline was horrified by the raw, pathetic sorrow in her voice, but she couldn’t stop talking. “I don’t remember much of the eighth grade because that bastard put me on heavy tranquilizers.”
“Oh, chère,” Paul said hoarsely.
“The worst thing was—” She struggled for composure, covering her face with one hand.
“Caroline,” Paul crooned. He moved toward her, his hands outstretched.
“Don’t. Stay put. I’ll fall apart c-completely if you touch me.”
He hesitated, but she could sense how eager he was to reach for her. Get it over with, she told herself. Then he may not want to hold you.
“What happened, chère?” he asked gently.
Caroline dragged her head up and angled it so he couldn’t see the wretched state of her face. “The stupid shrink said I was withdrawing into fantasy because of my scars. He told my stepparents to help me get rid of unhealthy influences.
“I had two pet cats and an old cocker spaniel—my only friends. The shrink said they had to go. I begged my stepparents—I promised to be perfect if they’d let the animals stay.”
Her voice broke. “My stepparents took them to the humane society. Said they’d get homes.” She paused, struggling. “But they didn’t. They all got put to sleep.”
“Oh, Caro.”
“I knew when they were gassed.”
“How could you know? Who told you?”
Caroline jammed the heels of her hands against her temples. “It was dark in the gas chamber and they were terrified. The gas was exhaust from an old car engine—not cool or odorless.”
“Who told you that?”
“Even miles away I heard them begging me, pleading for help. The fumes burned them, burned their faces. They couldn’t breathe, and they were in pain.”
Paul groaned in frustration and sorrow. “How did you know?”
Her control shattered. “They told me!” Crumpling, she hugged herself. Tears ran down her face.
There was a sudden stillness in the room, a freezing of both movement and thought. Wincing, Caroline slowly turn
ed to look at Paul.
He gazed back at her as if he’d never seen her before. It was her worst fear come true.
Trembling violently, Caroline drew herself into a weak imitation of her old haughtiness. “ ’G-give me that damned room key. You won’t mind if I leave now.”
He blinked as if waking up, shoved both hands through his hair, held them up as if beseeching heaven, then let them fall to his sides. “You mean you really do talk to the animals and they talk back?”
“Polite people call it mental telepathy. Impolite people call it a crock.”
“I … how … mon dieu.”
“I’ve always been able to do it. I guess I could even do it before the car accident. I don’t know. I can’t remember.” She wiped her eyes brusquely. “I never told anyone else about it—until now.”
Paul waved his hands as if searching for answers and continued to look stunned. “The house cats, the llamas, Wolf, the gazelle, Cat, the ferrets. Fantastique. Formidable.”
“Freak,” she added grimly.
“What do they say? How do they say it? In words?”
His interest buoyed her a little. “No. Images. Emotions. Except with Wolf. And Sin. With them I speak a language I didn’t know I knew. I can’t describe it, but it’s very detailed.”
His eyes flickered with a fathomless emotion. “You ‘talk inside their heads,’ just like you did with Mark?”
The blood thudded in Caroline’s ears. She nodded numbly. “I can communicate only with animals and children.”
“Sin told you about the pit bulls?”
Caroline looked away awkwardly. “Yes.”
He said nothing else, and the silence grew so nerve-racking that she couldn’t bear it. Caroline exhaled raggedly. “Okay. I get the message. I thought for a minute … no.” She swept past him, headed for the door. “Let me out of here. You can laugh after I leave the room.”
“You’re so damned convinced that I don’t believe you.” His voice was smooth and challenging. “You’re just waiting for me to make fun of you, and you’re gonna brood and worry no matter what I say.”
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