Lone Enforcer: An Alpha Shifter Suspense Romance (Wolf Enforcers Book 2)

by Jessica Aspen

  Her frown came back. “No need to be snarky. Can you call for help, or something? I think I twisted my ankle and I’ve got absolutely zero bars.”

  Call for help. Not likely. There was no cell tower for miles here and he’d have to ride for at least an hour to get any reception. If he were going to do that, he could ride directly to the ranch in less time.

  “I can’t call from here. What are you doing here?”

  “Do we have to waste time on that? I’ll be stuck here all night.” She crossed her arms. “I just need someone with a rope to pull me out. Can you get someone?”

  “I can do better than that, but first tell me where you’re hurt.”

  “I hurt all over, but none of it’s bad. I was almost down when I fell. It’s just that I hit my foot wrong and twisted it.” She shook her head up at him. “Really, I’m fine. I just need to get out of here.”

  “I’ve got you covered.”

  He went to Espresso and unfastened his lariat from the saddle and got out his gloves. You never knew what you’d encounter riding out on the ranch. Last month he’d had to pull a calf from a sinkhole, and he’d made less noise. Probably would be less trouble too. The calf got a slap on the ass and ran to its mother when it had been pulled free. He doubted he’d be doing that in this case.

  He tried to lead Espresso to the ravine, but the horse snorted and balked.

  He leaned back over the edge. “Can you move down a little more this way?”

  “It’s all rock. Do you think it will be any better talking to me from over there than over here?”

  This was why he disliked dealing with people. Nothing was easy. Everything had to be explained. “I’m going to toss down a rope and get my horse to pull you up, but he won’t come any closer than this.”

  “You’re having your horse pull me up? Are you crazy? That doesn’t sound safe.”

  “You have nothing to worry about, he’s an old hand at the job. Now, unless you want to spend the night here while I ride for help, can you move?”

  If he rode and got help for something like this, all the guys at the ranch would rib him for months about being scared of a little pussy. Or being a pussy. Either way he’d rather do the job himself.

  “Fine.” She fastened her helmet on her head, put on her pack, and half-hitched, half-crawled the ten feet down the edge of the wall. “Is this good?”

  “Much better.” He fastened the rope to the saddle horn and tossed it down. He positioned Espresso, told him to stand, and pulled on his gloves. “Now what I want you to do is—”

  “I’ve got this, cowboy.” She expertly formed a harness with the lariat, looping it around her waist and between her legs, and around the amazingly rounded curves of her ass. When she was done she double-checked her knots. “It’s not exactly as soft and flexible as the rope I’m used to, but it’ll work.” She gave the rope two tugs and he felt it in the piece he had in his hand. “Ready. On belay?”

  “Okay.” He knew the term. He’d done some rock climbing in his teens, but that was usually a team effort, so he hadn’t followed up.

  She gave him a look he could feel all the way up on his side of the wall. “You’re supposed to say ‘Belay on’, if you’re ready.”

  “Belay on. Now, I’m going to have Espresso back up and I’ll guide the rope. You ready?”

  “Ready as I’ll ever be.” She limped closer to the wall.

  “Espresso, back.” Espresso was an old hand at the job and braced his hindquarters as the rope grew taut. Luca guided the rope, making sure it remained clear of the rocks. He kept an eye out for fraying and let Espresso take the weight. Not that this woman was very heavy. She weighed a lot less than a six month calf, and nothing like a steer. The horse had no trouble, but Luca had to slow him down because of how light she was. “Easy, now, boy. Steady on.”

  He watched her lean back in the harness and use her feet limping—rather than walking—her way up the wall. The closer she got the more he could see the sweat gleaming on her dusky skin, and the fine lines of tension in her face. When she got close he reached down and hauled her up, giving Espresso the command to halt.

  She felt light and fragile in his arms, as he pulled her shaking body back from the ledge and lowered her to the ground.

  “Wow, you really are a cowboy.” Her deeply lashed brown eyes quirked at the corners and she gave a little laugh.

  The shift to friendliness in her face gave Luca a rush. Man, she was pretty, even under the dirt and grime. Her wayward curls escaping from under her helmet looked soft, like sheep’s fleece, and her mouth had a fullness to it that had him wondering how she’d taste.

  He grinned and tipped his hat. “Luca Weylyn. At your service, ma’am.”

  She grinned back. “Sorry I was such a bitch. Thanks for the rescue, Luca Weylyn.” She picked at the laces on her dirty black climbing shoe and stared at the swell of her ankle. “Damn it. I think it’s really swollen.” She pulled the shoe and sock off.

  He squatted at her side and gently touched her puffy skin.

  She flinched. “Ouch! Don’t you think we should get a professional to look at it?”

  “Shh.” He applied pressure, checking the bones. “I think you’re right. It’s a sprain.” He rocked back on his boot heels.

  “Oh, and are you a doctor as well as a cowboy?”

  “No, but I am experienced enough with sprains.” He smiled at her quip, liking her more and more, now that she wasn’t frowning at him. “They’re a pretty common injury. Not that you shouldn’t get an x-ray, but what you really need is ice and a wrap.”

  He went to his saddlebags and pulled out the first aid kit. When he’d turned around, she’d pulled off her helmet.

  “You’re carrying ice?”

  “No. But I do have something that will work.” He gave her a stern look. “As you should have if you’re going to be messing around out here in the wild.” He shook the package of instant ice, then squeezed it, to start the chemical reaction, and pressed it to her ankle. “What the hell did you think you were doing, climbing that all by yourself. You have shoes and a helmet, but no first aid kit or partner? And this isn’t public land. You shouldn’t have been here in the first place. It’s not safe.”

  Her face iced over. “It’s none of your business, cowboy.”

  “It’s Luca.” He finished wrapping her ankle. “And you should be damn glad I found you. We only do this fence line once a week and something definitely is hunting out here, you could have been dinner for a mountain lion, or something else.”

  Her light brown skin paled. “What do you mean, something’s hunting out here.”

  Damn. He spent too much time only around pack. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have mentioned it.” He went to stand up and she grabbed his arm.

  “No, tell me.”

  He hesitated.

  “Look, it’s important.”

  “There’s obviously been some kind of disturbance over there. There’s still traces of blood.”

  Her large brown eyes grew even wider and the pupils shrank down to tiny scared pinpricks. “Is that what that is? Blood.” She swallowed hard. “I wasn’t sure. How can you tell something died?”

  He’d already told her too much, but he couldn’t not answer her. “There’s a lot of blood. Too much.”

  She let go of his arm and stared at the spot on the ground. “Thank you for being honest.”

  He flushed, unaccustomed red heat crawling up his neck and over his face.

  He was being anything but honest. If he were, he would have told her that the someone who’d killed here was definitely human because they’d cleaned up. There were no bones scattered around the scene. No signs of scavenging.

  Either whoever had killed had taken care of it, or someone had come along later and cleaned up, long after the blood had soaked deeply into the dirt and sandstone. But he couldn’t tell her that because the only people who were supposed to be here were pack. And the idea of pack out here killing something and t
hen hiding it, went against the grain. Hunting was a good activity, not something to hide.

  “Now, let’s get you out of here.”

  She went to get up and he scooped her up instead. She was warm, her curvy ass nestled just below his arm and her cleavage squished in the low scoop neck of her tank top. He found himself feeling protective and very male. As if, now that he’d rescued her, she was his responsibility.

  “What’s your name?” He needed to distract himself from her obvious appeal. She wasn’t pack, she was human, and while shifters and dormants had relationships all the time, the dormants were pack. They got it. But this woman, she could only be a casual fling. And this was a far-from-casual feeling.

  “Natalie.”

  “Okay, Natalie, up you go on Espresso and we’ll get you somewhere you can get some help.” He settled her on the gelding and mounted up behind her. It was a tight fit on the Western saddle. Her thighs were wedged against his and his ass was smack against the cantle. But he wouldn’t want it any other way. It felt good, to be pressed against a woman like this, the scent of her hair rising to tease his senses.

  It had been too long, since he’d been in any kind of a relationship. Too long indeed. And his body was not shy in telling him. He tried to think about something, anything, to keep his cock from rising up any further and pressing into the sweet curves of her ass.

  As they rode down the slope in the direction of the ranch, she leaned back against his chest. The gentle sway of the horse had her rocking in his arms.

  He was crazy. She was a human. She shouldn’t be on ranch property, let alone heading for the main compound where she might catch a glimpse of all the secrets of pack life.

  Like wolves.

  But he couldn’t resist the plea in her soft baby browns, nor the pulsing in his heart when she closed her eyes, her lashes fluttering down over her cheeks. And as they hit the flat part of the trail, he felt her breathing change as the sway of Espresso’s walk lulled her near to sleep.

  Chapter Three

  Natalie wasn’t sleeping. She leaned back on Luca’s chest, getting used to the feeling of the horse moving under her, and letting her brain run through all of the facts.

  Fact one: Yvette was gone. And no one but Natalie seemed to care.

  Fact two: Yvette’s last known coordinates were the location of Yvette’s cell phone, and signs of something bad. Really bad.

  Fact three: Luca had said there was too much blood. Way too much blood. Something had died.

  Natalie swallowed down the bile threatening to rise up her throat every time she thought of that red-brown patch of dirt. When Yvette had failed to respond to any of her texts or messages, she’d gotten that sick feeling, but she’d pushed it away. She’d hoped. But now she knew with sudden chilling certainty that something dead had to be her best friend.

  Could Luca be involved?

  Natalie stared through her lashes at his large capable hands loosely holding Espresso’s reins. He was super hot, in that tall, dark, incredibly quiet way. His blue eyes were startlingly bright in his cowboy tanned face and, for all the smoothness of his movements as he’d taken care of her, he was a very tall man.

  And strong. Look at the way he’d lifted her up without even breaking a sweat. If he could pick up someone with as curvy an ass as hers, he’d have been more than capable of hurting someone as tiny as Yvette.

  But, in recalling his strength, she also recalled his gentleness as he’d wrapped her ankle. Besides, if he was a killer he’d had ample opportunity to kill her and make her corpse disappear. Just like Yvette’s.

  No, she just didn’t see it. And it wasn’t because of the lovely, sexy feelings she was getting riding this close to him—her legs fitted to his. Thigh to thigh. Knee to knee. Her ass pressed to what she was sure was a hard-on.

  She’d been on a few trail rides as a kid, those things you think are going to be great but turn out to be miserable, with someone shouting at you the whole time, “Don’t let him eat. Pull his head up. Kick him!” But riding with Luca was nothing like that. He held the reins loosely, almost not even using them.

  Riding this close to him she could feel every time he signaled the horse, tightening a thigh muscle, or signaling with the gentle pelvic thrust of his hips. Each movement he made reminded her that she leaned back on a lean, tall, capable cowboy and a hot flush would rise across her cheeks.

  She’d had no idea riding was so sexy.

  They’d ridden for about an hour, leaving behind the grassy slopes and entering a forested area of the trail. Everything grew hushed and it seemed like there was no one but the two of them, and the horse.

  Luca touched her arm. “Are you awake?”

  “Yeah.”

  “That’s my cabin.” He pointed to a small square log building with a beat up Silverado parked next to it, nestled beneath the trees. “I’m going to put you on that bench and take care of Espresso.” He pointed to a beautifully carved wooden bench next to a small shed and a corral. “Then we’ll get you to town. They have an urgent care there, right next to the sheriff’s office.”

  Panic raced through her. The sheriff had been clear—she was to go home and not investigate Yvette’s disappearance. Wolf’s Peak was a very small town. If he found out she’d been injured, and on someone else’s property, he’d send her packing. Or, maybe he’d arrest her for trespassing.

  She had too many questions, there was no way she was going to stop now.

  “Can I use the bathroom?” It had been several water bottles and a long ride since she’d peed, but that wasn’t why she wanted to get into Luca’s cabin. She needed time to figure out how to get him not to take her to the urgent care, but to run her back to her car instead.

  He looked right and left, hesitating. “Okay, but let’s make it quick. You really shouldn’t be here.” He looped Espresso’s reins around a fence post and reached up for her.

  “Why not?” She slid off, her legs buckling when she touched the ground.

  “Whoa! Hang on there.” He caught her and swung her up into his arms and she forgot that she’d even asked the question.

  His chest was broad and smelled of fresh laundry, clean sweat, and the heat of the sun. As he carried her into the one room cabin, past the tiny kitchenette and into the tiny bathroom, she wished she could stay curled up in his arms. With his strength and solidity, he’d keep her safe.

  She just knew it.

  But he put her on her feet, making sure she was okay with a steadying hand and she let her fantasy go.

  “Thanks.” She shut the bathroom door and took care of the necessities before balancing on her left foot in front of the mirror and washing her hands.

  She was a wreck. Her face was smudged with dirt and a bit of blood. The soap stung scratches she didn’t even remember getting, not just on her hands, but on her legs and knees too. Her crazy curls had gotten free of their hair tie and were snarled beyond a few minutes repair— she’d need a stiff hair pick and an hour to undo the damage.

  She opened the door intending to ask him for a washcloth. “Hey, Luca.”

  “Are you ready? Great.” He stood in the living room tapping his wide brimmed hat against a thigh. “We’d better get you out of here.”

  Her highly tuned alarm bells went off. First he was wierded-out outside. And now this. “Why? What’s going on.”

  His lips pressed together and his gaze dropped to the floor. “Nothing.”

  “No, it’s definitely something.” She sat down on a hard wooden chair. “I’m not getting into that truck with you until you tell me what’s going on.”

  “It’s just—” he pulled in a long breath and let it out, almost as if weighing exactly what he was going to say. “—my employers, don’t like strangers. I need to get you off of the ranch as soon as possible.”

  “Is that really it? There’s nothing else?”

  Something crossed his face, but then his features smoothed out. “That’s it.”

  It was plausible. Look at
all the NO TRESSPASSING signs shouting on that fence. But there was something about the way he refused to meet her eyes. And then he did meet her eyes, head on, as if trying too hard to convince her of the truth.

  Her alarm bells were still chiming, but not as fiercely. Something was up, not dangerous to her, but something for sure. She’d always been a little psychic when it came to avoiding trouble. It had saved her and Yvette countless times from bad situations and they’d made bad jokes about her sixth sense.

  But it hadn’t gone off last month when Yvette had driven up here. A spasm of grief had her clutching the doorframe hard.

  She’d failed Yvette. Maybe she wasn’t that psychic after all.

  “Hey, are you okay.” Luca crossed the room and touched her shoulder. “Do you need some water or something.”

  “Yeah.” She pushed back the tears and smiled at him. “That would be great. Oh, and a washcloth.”

  He grinned at her and lifted his hand to cradle her face. His thumb skimmed across her cheek, leaving tingles behind. “Yeah, a little soap and water would do you good.”

  For a brief second she wanted to lean into his hand. But then she simply returned his smile and took the washcloth he handed her, retreating behind the bathroom door.

  She stared in the mirror, washing the dirt off of her face and legs and hissing at the touch of the soap. Thinking about Yvette.

  Her face crumpled in the mirror as the tough-girl attitude, that always kept her going, broke. Tears poured down and she sank to the cracked wood floor and sobbed.

  What the hell was she going to do without her best friend?

  Luca pounded on the door. “Natalie?”

  “I’m fine,” she choked out.

  “No you’re not.” He pushed open the door and sank down onto the floor next to her. “Come here.” He pulled her onto his lap and wrapped his arms around her. “What’s wrong, darlin’. Tell me.”

  “She’s gone. She’s really gone.” She hung on to him as if he could save her from drowning in the truth.

  “Who’s gone.”

  “Yvette. She’s dead.”

  “I’m here.” He rocked her back and forth. “You just cry it on out.”