Legacy Found: Legacy, Book 3

by N. J. Walters

  She didn’t want to leave him.

  That was the bottom line and the problem she was struggling with right now. James made her feel safe. But that was just an illusion. She had to take care of herself.

  She hadn’t been paying any attention to where they were going, but she focused on their surroundings as he turned off the road. The sign announced it was a gas station.

  “I’ll just be a few minutes.” James shut off the ignition and climbed out. He’d left the keys. It would be so easy for her to steal the truck and drive away. If only she could drive. She’d never learned how, but he didn’t know that.

  There was so much she didn’t know how to do. But she was learning. Watching the battered, ancient television in her apartment and observing other folks had helped. But she still felt like a child in many respects, blindly trying to find her way. She’d never used a cell phone or a computer or had a bank account.

  She straightened her shoulders, staring straight ahead. She refused to feel shame. What had happened to her wasn’t her fault. She hadn’t chosen to be abandoned by her family. She hadn’t chosen her heritage. She hadn’t chosen to be held captive for all those years. Those things simply were. But she was working to make her life better.

  A knock on the window yanked her from her thoughts and she jerked around. James moved his hand, making a cranking motion. She fumbled for the handle and rolled down the window. The pungent smell of gasoline made her wrinkle her nose.

  “I’m going in to pay. You want anything to drink or eat?”

  She shook her head, feeling slightly exasperated. The man had to stop offering to buy things for her. “No, thank you.”

  “Back in a sec.” He strode toward the small brick building to pay and she couldn’t help admiring his long legs and the way his jeans cupped his firm butt.

  Heat suffused her cheeks as she quickly put up the window and, this time, it had nothing to do with shame and everything to do with desire. She fanned her face, grateful James wasn’t here to see her blush. The last thing he needed to know was that she was attracted to him.

  Her hand went limp and dropped to her lap. She was attracted to James Riley. Only a day ago, she would have said that was impossible. There was no way she’d ever feel that way toward any man.

  What made him so special?

  A vehicle pulled in on the other side of the gas pumps and she automatically glanced over. Every bit of blood drained from her face as she caught sight of the man driving the black SUV. It couldn’t be.

  But it was. She’d seen his face too many times to mistake it—handsome, yet cruel at the same time. He’d grown a goatee since she’d last seen him. It gave his face a more sinister look. His blond hair was longer than she remembered, but it still didn’t touch his shoulders.

  Shelley turned away and hunched down in her seat. Should she run?

  No. That would bring attention her way. Reaching her hand out blindly, she hit the lock on her door.

  She leaned across the seat to lock the other door, but before she could, it popped open. She gasped and shrank away.

  It was James and, of course, he noticed the way she was practically hiding under the dashboard. “What’s wrong?”

  She shook her head and hunched lower, willing the man at the gas pump across from them not to notice her. “Drive.”

  James’s asked no questions as he started the truck, but his head swiveled around and she knew he saw the man across from them putting fuel into his SUV. The man who would kill her without a thought. And why wouldn’t he? She’d killed his father.

  It had to be coincidence that Steve Macmillan had turned up at the same place as her and James. Or maybe it was fate. A reminder of what she’d done and everything she had to lose.

  There was no way he could have tracked her movements. When she’d awoken this morning, she’d had no idea she’d find herself at this particular gas station in Nashville today.

  Desperation swept over her. If James didn’t hurry, nothing else would matter. The second Steve saw her she was dead.

  But the truck was already moving. James pulled out of the lot and accelerated slowly, gliding easily into traffic. Shelley didn’t breathe, didn’t sit up until he’d driven for five minutes. She peered out the back window to make certain there was no sign of the SUV before slowly sitting up straight again.

  Sweat made her new sweater cling to her torso. Her body trembled as adrenaline pumped through her veins. Fight or flight. It was a primitive reaction to danger. And Steve Macmillan was as dangerous as it got.

  “You want to tell me what that was all about?” James tone was mild, but she knew he was curious. He had to be. She’d just acted slightly crazy and told him to drive. She paused as it occurred to her he’d done just that with no questions asked.

  She shook her head. “You’re safer not knowing.”

  Steve Macmillan casually scoped out the other vehicles as he pumped gas. Not that he expected to see anyone or anything special, but it was as natural to him as breathing to be aware of his surroundings. His father had taught him to always be on his guard. Those werewolves and other freaks of nature were everywhere.

  He noticed the big man who walked out of the small convenience store attached to the gas bar. His movements were fluid with an animal grace that gave Steve pause.

  That would be too much of a coincidence to run into a werewolf here. There wasn’t enough time to assess the man as he climbed into his vehicle. There was a passenger in the cab of the truck, but Steve couldn’t get a good look at her. And it was a woman. He caught a glimpse of her profile before she turned away. Her soft brown hair tumbled around her shoulders. Her leather jacket was scrunched up around her neck and ears, blocking most of her features from view.

  The back of his neck began to itch and he released the nozzle of the gas hose and took a step to the right to get a better view of the passenger.

  It didn’t help. The woman kept her head turned away from him. The driver glanced at Steve, his dark eyes narrowing slightly before he put the truck in gear and pulled away.

  Steve watched as the vehicle disappeared down the road, automatically taking note of the license plate. Damn—the woman reminded him of someone. It would come to him in time. He was certain of it. It was probably nothing, but it wouldn’t hurt to check it out.

  Chapter Five

  Tension thrummed through James. He didn’t know what had just happened to frighten Shelley, but something sure as hell had. Maybe it had something to do with the guy at the gas station and maybe it didn’t. All he knew is Shelley wanted to get away from there so he drove.

  The farther away they got, the more relaxed she became.

  “You want to tell me what that was all about?” He kept his tone mild, sensing that she was close to the edge. Sweat was beaded on her forehead and her hands were shaking.

  “You’re safer not knowing.”

  Her words cut him like a knife. She was trying to protect him. He wasn’t having it. He was male. He was alpha. It was his job to protect her. “I can take care of myself. It’s you I’m worried about.”

  She shook her head and he had the urge to shake her until she told him what had just happened to frighten her. Not that he’d give in to it. There’s no way he’d ever lay a hand on her in anger. He was very afraid she’d had more than her share of that kind of treatment in her life.

  “Talk to me, Shelley.”

  She licked her lips and seemed to draw herself inward, all her earlier pleasure in her new clothing gone. That made him even angrier. Someone or something had stolen that joy from her.

  James sighed, knowing that Shelley wasn’t going to tell him anything. Not now. Not until she felt safe.

  He drummed his fingers against the steering wheel as they left Nashville behind them and headed toward North Carolina. There had to be something he could do to get Shelley to open up to him. All he needed was time.

  Why it was so important to him that she do so was something he didn’t want to look a
t too closely, but he forced himself to. A man didn’t reach his age without learning a thing or two about himself and about life. And James knew without a doubt that he couldn’t let Shelley go. Not now. Maybe not ever. She was important.

  There had to be something he could do to convince her to stay with him. He pondered everything he’d learned about her in the short time he’d known her. He shook his head in wonder. It was less than a day, could be measured in hours, yet he felt as though he knew her, knew her soul. He damn sure wanted her.

  He shoved aside the fantasies of having her naked in his bed, her body undulating under his as he fucked her hard and fast. They were only making him tense and causing his clothing to be uncomfortably tight.

  Being around Shelley made him feel alive in a way he hadn’t felt in decades. Not since Leda, his mate, his wife, had died in childbirth all those years ago. The nightmares of those days smothered the sexual fantasies in a hurry. He couldn’t go through that again.

  James rubbed a hand across the back of his neck, trying to release some of the tension gripping him. His immediate problem was Shelley wanting to leave.

  He ticked off what he knew about her in his brain. She was independent. She didn’t like owing him money. Not that he thought she owed him anything, but obviously she did.

  She was also afraid. The way she sometimes cowered before she caught herself doing it was a sign that she’d been abused. That knowledge ate at James’s gut like acid. He’d like to find whoever had hurt her and rip them limb from limb. Females were to be protected. They were the hope, the heart, the future of their people.

  He glanced at Shelley, but she was staring out the window, her body pressed as close to the door as she could get it.

  He turned his attention back to the road and his problem. In spite of everything she’d been through, Shelley was strong. She was a survivor. She was also a caretaker.

  Trying to protect him. He still couldn’t quite wrap his head around that one. As alpha, he was the one who did the protecting. To have a female try to do so went against the natural order of his world.

  Caretaker. The word tumbled through his mind as he turned over the problem, searching for a solution.

  Shelley needed a safe place to stay for a while and she also needed to earn some money. She obviously didn’t have much. Then there was the question of her heritage. She knew nothing about being a werewolf. Maybe she was a half-breed. There was no way of knowing. But either way she needed to learn about who and what she was.

  It came to him then and he smiled inwardly. It could work. It would work, he assured himself. It had to. There was no way he was going to drop Shelley off and leave her at some bus stop like she wanted.

  “How would you like a job?”

  That got her attention fast. He could feel her eyes on him. He sent a quick glance in her direction and, sure enough, her dark brown eyes were watching him intently.

  His body reacted predictably, his cock jerking, seeking her attention. He ignored his erection and pressed onward.

  “I recently moved into a big house. What with business and family concerns, I haven’t had the time or energy to keep it up. It’s a mess. I need a housekeeper.”

  “A housekeeper?” She said the words as though she didn’t quite understand them.

  James pressed his case. “You’d be responsible for cleaning and cooking and the laundry. You’d have your own room. Or you could stay with my daughter. Alex would love to have you.” He hated making the last offer. He wanted Shelley with him, in his home. But he was smart enough to give her a choice. If she opted to stay with Alexandra, he’d live with it. At least she’d be close.

  Her mouth opened and closed and he pressed harder. “Of course, there’s a salary.” He named a number, figuring it was better than she’d been making at the diner. “No strings attached. Try it for a week and see if you like it. If at the end of the week you want to leave, you’ll have some more money saved and I’ll take you to the nearest town.” The last was a bit of a lie. He’d do his damndest to talk her out of leaving. But if she was set on going, he’d drive her wherever she wanted.

  “Plus, you can take the time to talk to Alex and her husband. You can learn what it means to be a werewolf.” He pushed the one final thing he thought might entice her to say yes. “Maybe we can even figure out who you are and where you come from. What do you say?”

  Shelley was too stunned to speak. James was offering her everything she needed. It was too good to be true. It had to be.

  Yet it was tempting. Like chocolate cake, she wanted it even though she knew it wasn’t good for her.

  Everything he said made sense. It would give her a week to plan and to make certain Steve Macmillan wasn’t anywhere around. She could save some money, while finding out about her heritage.

  The knot in her belly grew. Did she really want to find out about her family? Did she really have a choice?

  She knew she had to uncover the truth, no matter how bad it might be. Maybe they had abandoned her. But maybe they hadn’t.

  That small voice of hope she’d thought had died years ago rose up to haunt her. It had been years since she’d dared to imagine that she hadn’t been abandoned, tossed away like garbage. That someone had missed her, searched for her.

  She could easily do the job. She’d had years of experience keeping house for a man. A shudder of distaste wracked her and she suppressed those negative memories.

  The real question was, did she really want to spend that much time with James? The feelings he stirred within her confused her enough now. What would they be like a week from now?

  She straightened in her seat. She was strong enough to fight the emotions swirling within her. She could do the job without allowing herself to get closer to James.

  At least she hoped she could.

  James confused her. There was no doubt he was a dangerous man. Physically, he was tall, his shoulders wide, his body lean and hard. He moved with a grace that was unusual for a man his size. Or maybe it was normal for a male of her kind. A werewolf.

  How would she know? The thought was bitter and left a foul taste in her mouth. The only male she’d ever met had only wanted sex with her. And she hadn’t refused him. Her body had been out of control.

  And after he was done with her, Tom had shot the male with a tranquilizer dart and dragged him away. She wasn’t sure what he did to the male, but she’d heard screaming for hours and finally a loud howl that was suddenly cut short. She shuddered, remembering how Tom had worn the fur of the male wolf as a coat for days afterwards.

  Then Tom had settled in to watch her. She’d felt her body change. Her skin had itched and she’d scratched at her arms and legs until they’d bled. She’d felt wild. Out of control. As though something inside her was trying to break free. She’d been feverish for days, fighting whatever it was within her.

  In the end, she’d lost. The wolf had been stronger. When the change had begun, she’d thought she was going to die. Her bones had cracked and reformed. Her body contorting as it changed. Fur had pushed through her skin, covering her entire body.

  She’d tipped back her head to scream, but a long, low howl had emerged instead. She’d been herself, yet not. Something else was with her, sharing her mind and body. The wolf.

  Shelley rubbed her hands up and down her arms, feeling a chill in spite of her coat and the warmth in the cab of the truck. She’d feared she’d never be able to change back. That she’d be stuck in that form forever.

  Then she’d prayed that Tom would finally kill her.

  He hadn’t. Instead, he’d watched her for hours. Finally fear and exhaustion took their toll and she’d curled up and slept. She woke hours later in the midst of another change. When it was done, she was herself once again.

  Tom had warned her to keep her mouth shut about what had happened. Who was she going to tell? His buddies? They all thought he should have killed her years before.

  It took her months, but she’d managed to learn to
control her wolf. She hadn’t shifted in years. The change always brought out the worst in Tom. After the first time, he beat her every time she allowed her wolf to come out.

  “Shelley?” Concern laced James’s voice. She’d been silent for quite some time, lost in memories. Nightmares really. Daylight was quickly fading into dusk. Night closed in early in March.

  “Okay. I’ll do it,” she blurted. Shelley hoped she was doing the right thing. “But only for a week,” she added. She was leaving if she didn’t feel right about the situation.

  “Fair enough.”

  As though he sensed she didn’t want to talk, James leaned forward and flicked on the radio. Country music rolled out of the speakers. “You have a preference?”

  “Not really.” She’d been listening to music at the diner for months, but Gus had kept it on a country station. Tom hadn’t listened to music at all. She didn’t even know what other kinds of music there were.

  Feelings of inadequacy threatened to smother her. Defiantly, she reached out and pressed one of the buttons. When nothing happened, she frowned.

  “Like this.” James showed her how to search for other radio stations. And he did it in such a matter-of-fact way she didn’t feel stupid.

  She stopped when she came across a slow, rhythmic song she liked. She tapped her foot and her body began to sway. James startled her when he began to sing, his voice low and deep.

  Goose bumps broke out on her skin and a shiver raced down her spine. She wasn’t frightened or cold. Her body was reacting to James’s voice.

  Her skin felt sensitive. Prickly. Her chest rose and fell, her breathing getting deeper. Her nipples felt tight and she pressed her thighs together to try to still the restless sensation low in her belly.

  She was aroused.

  It wasn’t unpleasant. Nor was it something she wanted to explore. She had too much on her plate without adding sex to the mix.

  James’s voice pitched lower, weaving a sensual spell around her. Luring her. She wouldn’t give in.