Heart of the Winter Wolf

by Heart of the Winter Wolf (pdf) (lit)

  "I said bullshit. Right now, all you've got is time to think-days and days of time to think. So don't stand there and try to tell me you haven't been thinking about you and me. I just want to make sure you have all the facts before you decide to write me off."

  "Write you off? You're the one who disappeared without a single damn word after our one and only night together." Anger set her pacing to the other side of the small apartment, anger layered over hurt. The fact that she still hurt ticked her off even more, and she wrapped herself in fury as if it was protective armor.

  "I didn't leave without a word. I sent flowers and a card letting you know."

  "Letting me know what, exactly?" Her head was pounding and her stomach was sending warning signals, but raw emotion superseded all. "That you were too cowardly to tell me to my face that you didn't want me?"

  "That I love you."

  What? The nerve of the man. She whirled, about to tell him what he could do with such an outrageous statement. But the sudden movement was the last straw for her sensitive stomach. She paled and her knees turned to jello. "Omigod--"

  She retched painfully, but her stomach was long since empty. It seemed to take forever for the nausea to subside this time. When it did, her head cleared, as well, and Jillian found herself kneeling over a wastebasket, supported by James' powerful arms. She had no idea how she got there.

  "Done now?"

  "Yeah. Yeah, I think so." She shivered a little, then settled back against him. "God, I'm sorry."

  "For what? I should be sorry for upsetting you, and I am. But I meant what I said. I love you." He picked her up gently and set her on the bed. Went into the kitchen and rummaged in the fridge until he found a can of lemon pop. He brought her a tall glass of it with ice and sat beside her.

  Jillian sipped the pop gratefully, but suspected it was going to take a lot more than that to revive her. She felt worn out both physically and emotionally. She really didn't want to have this conversation right now, but they seemed to be having it just the same. It just wasn't fair. "Look, I don't understand at all. How can you possibly love me when you ditched me like that?"

  "I admit it wasn't my best decision. I just didn't think I'd be very good for you."

  She was stunned. Had Birkie been right? Had protective male logic been behind James' actions? "Well, you did make me puke twice, so maybe there's something to that notion. Not to mention knocking me down in the hallway, scaring me to death in the loft. Oh, and breaking into my apartment. Yeah, you're probably standing at about negative twenty on the good-for-Jillian scale."

  He had the grace to look sheepish. Standing with both hands in the pockets of his jeans, James unexpectedly reminded Jillian of a small boy who had broken a neighbor's window. She hurried on to make her point before she lost her resolve completely. "But all that aside, you can just drop any misguided male notions about trying to protect me. It's my damn decision to make as to whether or not I want to risk hanging around with you."

  "Okay."

  "That's it? That's all I get? Just, 'okay'?"

  For a split second he looked blank, then suddenly put a hand to his head. "Christ, I'm missing my cue to apologize, aren't I? I am sorry, really, really sorry. Sorry for all the stupid things I did and sorry for not saying I was sorry sooner. Sorry that I'm not better at being human-- I mean, I'm sorry I'm not better at relationships."

  That's a lot of sorries. Jillian had the feeling this man didn't offer apologies lightly either. "I guess I'll have to forgive you." She offered him a smile, hoping to see an answering one but none appeared.

  "So are we ... are we back together then?"

  She handed him the empty glass and sighed deeply. "That was forgiveness, James, not necessarily reinstatement. And I don't know how we can get 'back together' when we hardly had more than a day's worth of relationship to start with."

  "You know there was more than that. A lot more. It was important from the start."

  "Maybe so, but you can't ask me to make hugely important relationship decisions right now."

  "Why not?"

  She saw something like worry flicker over his face, but she wasn't going to make it one bit easier for him. "Duh! Because I'm tired and I'm sick. Because I might throw up again, and if you keep pressuring me, I'll make certain I do it all over you. I'm going to have a shower, a long one. And then I'm going to bed. I want to feel a whole lot better before we continue this intense conversation. So you can damn well wait till tomorrow to discuss you and me any further."

  "Fair enough. I'll wait." He folded his arms. "But I'm waiting right here."

  "God, you're pushy, Macleod." She said it without heat, however. Instead, she ran a hand over her face and through her hair, sighed again. It just wasn't fair to have a bare-chested Viking right in front of her and not feel well enough to jump him. She was certain that if he was in her bed, there would be sex. Great sex. Terrific sex. But she was also certain that even brief and mediocre sex would finish her off. And besides, she hadn't even made a decision about James yet. Not exactly. Well, not officially. Well, not one that she was ready to share with him just yet. Oh hell, she knew what her decision was. She just wanted him to suffer a little. "Fine, take the couch."

  "I'd rather bunk with you. You might get cold again." He surveyed her carefully. "I promise I won't take it as a decision."

  His words caused a delicious tingle to travel up her spine, but that wasn't why she found she suddenly couldn't refuse him. There was something in those blue, blue eyes, some raw vulnerability she didn't understand. And then she did. He needed her to accept this, accept him at this moment, even if she decided to send him packing tomorrow. Her head was swimming and it wasn't from the concussion. "I'm ... I'm ... I'm going to have a shower now. But no funny stuff when I get out, mister. I need some uninterrupted sleep."

  She tried to sound firm, assertive, in charge. But James' mouth quirked into a subtle smile just then, and suddenly her heart did an amazing double half-gainer of Olympic quality. She rushed to the bathroom before it showed on her face.

  The hot water loosened a little of her tension, but not much. She was in love with James Macleod, and she was both exhilarated and appalled. I hardly know him. Okay, I kind of do, but I want to know him a whole lot better. Will he let me? He's so ... She tried to think of the right word, prickly at times, reserved-no, more like guarded. Yet James had been anything but guarded that day at the farm, and that night in the forest .... She sighed and tore her thoughts away from that avenue, for now. Instead, she remembered the things that Birkie had told her, the tragedy that James had endured. Surely that would make anyone a little prickly and reserved, and maybe hesitant about another relationship. She wondered if she was up for the challenge of building a relationship with James, then decided she must be. After all, he hadn't exactly shown her his best side, and here she was in love with him anyway. Life was just never what you expected.

  She found a fresh pair of pajamas, her favorite flannels with the little frogs, dried her hair, brushed her teeth. And resolved that if there was going to be a relationship, then there were going to be a few rules.

  Her mental list of rules evaporated like water droplets on a hot griddle when she came out of the bathroom. James was already in her bed, resting on his elbow and holding the quilt open so she could get in. Omigod, he's naked. She remembered their night in the forest together all too well, and it wasn't nausea that sent her stomach plummeting to her feet like a carnival ride. She switched the light off almost in self-defense and took a couple of deep breaths before crawling into bed. She deliberately faced away from him, but he simply curled his muscled body around her. The familiar heat enveloped her and that amazing sense of safety, of well-being. A big hand began to glide up and down her back. "I said no funny stuff." Her voice sounded squeaky. So much for being assertive.

  "I agree, no funny stuff tonight, but you've got enough tension here to string a piano. You'll never get a good rest when you're all knotted up like this."
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br />   She was about to argue when the big hand moved again and suddenly she couldn't say a word. The strong fingers were surprisingly gentle as they knowingly worked their way up and down her spine, her neck, her lower back, that tight spot between her shoulders. James located and massaged every knot as if they glowed in the dark and he could see them, untie them. She felt herself relaxing in subtle stages, drifting downward. She felt his lips brush the back of her neck just before sleep claimed her.

  * * * *

  James snapped awake, both human and wolf side fully alert. The small figure curled next to him was moaning restlessly, the blankets kicked aside.

  "Shhh baby, wake up. You're dreaming." He gave her shoulder a gentle shake, and felt her body shudder, then relax. He pulled the covers back over her, curled his body close, and slid an arm around her. He thought she was asleep--until she covered his big hand with her smaller one and squeezed it. There was no reason for the wild joy that whipped through him. No reason for the dizzying thrill that followed as she turned and opened one eye, a mere glimmer of green, and focused on him. No reason for the elation that sang along his nerves as she whispered his name.

  Right then and there James decided he didn't give a tinker's damn about reasons. All the misery of the past few weeks had slid away during the night even as the tight fist of pain around his heart had eased. Love washed over him like a midsummer thunderstorm, sudden, wild and fierce, cleansing and bright, and in its wake-peace.

  He kissed the top of her head and nuzzled her hair, breathed in the unique mix of berry shampoo and essence of Jillian. Wondered if he needed to be on guard--after all, he'd Changed in his sleep recently. As tough as this small woman was, she was human. Changing too close to her could send her flying with enough force to break bones. Yet he knew his wolfen side was completely devoted to Jillian. He had to trust that the wolf would do nothing to endanger her.

  What he really needed to worry about was how to tell her about that wolfen side. How would he bring it up? And when? Say, Jillian, did I mention I was a Changeling? He remembered telling Evelyn for the first time. She'd laughed at him, refused to take him seriously. He'd had to tell her over and over, and finally show her, before she believed him. But she hadn't been afraid.

  Jillian wouldn't be afraid either, he thought, once she knew the truth. But it was much too soon to tell her, definitely too soon. He wanted to give the relationship some time to grow and strengthen before he revealed his secret. He was confident she would be able to handle it, would eventually embrace the truth with all the wonder and curiosity that she brought to her work with animals.

  But it was one thing for her to accept the existence of Changelings, and another to decide to be one. Would Jillian want to enter his world fully? It would be her choice. He would love her no matter what. He put the thoughts away, shelved them in some mental corner for another time. It was too soon to be thinking about such things. For now, he just wanted to savor this unique contentment, this peace.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Jillian automatically slapped the alarm into silence. The clock read 6 a.m., but it was Sunday. She didn't have to get up. Of course, she hadn't had to get up for a long time, but she was naturally a morning person, and she liked the routine. If you sleep in, you miss things. Like the scents of dew-laden fields drifting in the open window. Like naked men in her bed. James was facing the window, but she could hear him breathing deep and steady. Felt the heat radiate from his skin. He was on top of the blankets, and she allowed her eyes to rove over his body, study out the shapes of muscle, the lines and angles of his powerful frame. He looked delicious. Tingling warmth blossomed low in her core and she fantasized about kissing every square inch of James Macleod.

  God, she felt good. Better than she had in days and days. True, she hadn't moved yet, but for this one moment in time nothing hurt. Not her head and not her heart. But as for doing all the things she'd like to do to the mouth-watering male next to her, she doubted she would have the stamina. Damn. For now she'd have to make do with planning out her moves for when she was back to normal, when she wouldn't have to hesitate to--

  "Ready to go water-skiing?"

  She laughed and James rolled over, his movements smooth and easy, almost catlike. He kissed her forehead and rubbed noses with her. "Good morning, sunshine." Then those startling blue eyes were looking into hers, and forming thoughts became suddenly very difficult.

  "I think you're the second biggest surprise in my life," she blurted.

  His eyebrows went up. "Second? I'll have to try harder."

  "No, no, I mean, among the major cosmic events in my life, you're second. You would have been first, but there's this wolf--"

  "A wolf took first place away from me?" He looked amused.

  "Maybe I should start at the beginning. No, wait, let me think. I'm going to brush my teeth and think, and then I want to tell you some things."

  She took her time in the bathroom. Last night's shower had made her hair dry in strange wisps and curls, and she fought to tame it. It was harder to pull her thoughts together, though. She was going to tell James about the white wolf--and she was nervous. What if he didn't believe her? At best, she would feel ridiculous. At worst, it could end a very promising relationship. How could she be with someone who would dismiss something so important to her? Because the white wolf was important to her. The creature had not only saved her life all those years ago, but it had been an important factor in her recovery. And in her eventual choice of profession. And what role it played now, she didn't know, but it was still very much a part of her life. Even if she didn't understand it.

  When Jillian came out, she found James brewing coffee in her tiny kitchen. He had pulled on his jeans, but they were rakishly unbuttoned. She swallowed, hard, and forced her eyes to look somewhere else. Anywhere else... Finally she grabbed James' hand and steered him to the table. "I have some things I want to tell you, things that are important to me. Will you listen?"

  "Of course I will."

  "I mean, really listen. All the way to the end and no falling asleep from boredom."

  "Honey, you could read the phonebook to me and still have all of my attention. Whatever it is, if it's important to you, it's important to me."

  She seriously doubted the phone book thing, but not that he would try. And so she told him. About the attack, about the enormous white wolf that saved her. About the effect it had on her life, about the reunion she'd had with it--or one like it--since she'd arrived in Dunvegan. About the DNA tests and her efforts to learn more about the wolf. Even about the myths and legends she'd been reading and the dreams she'd had lately. All of it. Every detail.

  She took a deep breath then, not sure of what to do now. She had to give James credit for paying attention as he'd said he would. His intense gaze had never left her face. His coffee sat untouched. But she couldn't read his expression and that worried her.

  Finally he reached across the table and took her hand. "You've had some very unique experiences. But the wolf didn't save you--"

  "I see." Disappointment shot through her like broken glass. "I guess it all sounded pretty fantastic. I don't know why I thought you might believe me."

  "No! No, the wolf is real. There are plenty of wolves that live in this area. And there's a white one, too."

  "You've seen it?" She narrowed her eyes at him. He hadn't better be trying to appease her by making this up. "A huge one with unusual eyes?"

  "Yes, I've seen it. Many times."

  "Prove it."

  "It's ... it's pure white but not an albino. No black hairs on the ear tips, but it has a black nose, black claws. Not just big, but bigger than a normal wolf. You're not imagining it, honey."

  She took a deep breath, suddenly aware she'd been holding it, and her eyes filled. "So you do believe me."

  "Well, why wouldn't I? Even if I hadn't seen the wolf for myself, I'd still believe you."

  "I just ... it's just that, my head...." She stammered into silence.

/>   "I get it. You have a head injury--

  "It's just a concussion." Technically a concussion was a head injury, but calling it that made it sound so much worse.

  "--so you expect people to question your grip on reality. Maybe you're questioning your grip on it, too."

  She rested her chin in her hand. "I guess maybe I am. That hallucination last week really threw me. I mean, thinking that I saw the wolf turn into you. How crazy is that? I've been a little worried about my sanity since. I know I have the DNA results, but emotionally, I guess I still needed some reassurance that the wolf is real. Really real."

  "It's living, breathing real." He smiled at her then. "Big. White. Blue eyes. Really real."

  "Thanks for that."

  "But it didn't save you."

  "What?"

  "That's what I was trying to say. The white wolf is real. It came to you and it chased the bad guys away. But it didn't save you, Jillian. You did that yourself. Sure, you thought of the wolf a lot. But what you did was pick something to hang on to, to build with. If it hadn't been the wolf, you would have found something else to use. You're the one that climbed up out of hell. You did it yourself, Jillian. You're the strongest person I've ever known." His grip on her hand tightened as he looked at the table for a long moment, then back at her. "I wish I could say I'd been like that. When Evelyn died, I wanted to die too. And I sort of did. I withdrew from everything and everyone. I thought I was protecting them. I mean, after all, loving me had gotten Evelyn killed--" He held up a hand as Jillian started to protest. "No, it's true. But I think I just might have been protecting myself all this time, too."

  "Maybe you needed to."

  "Maybe. But I don't need to now. And I don't want to now. I see you and I see not just someone I love, but someone I want to be like."

  "You know, giving me a swelled head just can't be good for my concussion."

  He kissed her hand then, and held it to his cheek for a moment, then looked at her with a thoughtful expression. "You know, some people would envy you the personal encounters you've had with a wolf, the connection you seem to have with it. Others might have a more negative outlook."