by Anna Lowe
He leaned down and placed her gently on what felt like the world’s softest couch. When he slid his arms out from under her, a wave of sorrow washed over her. She’d never felt more alone or more vulnerable. But then he brushed a hand along her cheek and whispered, and her nerves calmed a little bit.
“Shh. You’ll be okay. I promise.” His tone practically chiseled the words into stone.
She managed a tiny nod, but her eyes remained sealed tight. She didn’t have the energy or the nerve to open them just yet. The voices were frightening enough.
“What happened?” a deep, rumbly voice demanded.
“Get that light out of her eyes,” her knight barked, his voice suddenly harsher, harder.
“What the hell are you doing, bringing a human in here like this?” another asked.
Nina shook her head a little. Did someone just say human, or was that the ringing in her ears?
“Jesus, Boone. What’s going on?”
She’d been fading out again, but at the mention of his name, she perked up a little. Boone. Was her rescuer named Boone?
“We need to find Silas,” the one with the deep, growly voice said.
“No, don’t!” Boone barked.
Nina cringed, almost wishing she’d black out again. Was Silas a bad man? Bad like the men she’d escaped earlier that night?
Wait. What men had she escaped? She shook her head a little, but the memories escaped as quickly as they’d flitted through her mind.
“We don’t need Silas,” Boone said.
“What happened?” someone asked, leaning in.
Her eyes fluttered open, and she blinked. Three men came into focus, all of them looming over her. Big, burly men with inscrutable faces and searching eyes. She shrank back and clutched at the beach towel covering her body. All she had on after shedding her clothing in the water was a string bikini top and a skimpy bottom. Her skin itched from the crust of dried salt — and from the scrutiny.
They were in an open-sided shelter of some kind — a big, open space set up like a living room. Make that a man-den. A clubhouse, almost, with deep couches and a bar to one side, open to the fresh sea breeze and covered with a thatched palm roof.
“You’re okay now,” the nearest man murmured, and her eyes jumped to him.
Him. Boone. Her rescuer, who wasn’t a hairy hermit, after all, nor a mountain god as she’d half suspected when he’d carried her so effortlessly. He was a sandy-haired, athletic man who took her breath away. His eyebrows curved up when he looked at her, and he nodded as if to agree with everything she had to say. His skin was a toned copper color, and his eyes—
The second the boundless blue of his eyes met hers, her pulse skipped.
“Hey,” he whispered. “It will be all right.”
That made her feel better, but when the other two men started lobbing questions at her, she wavered again. Everything was a haze.
“What happened?”
Something bad. Something she’d rather not remember. She touched her head and immediately winced.
“What are you doing here?”
God, she wished she knew.
Boone shouldered a tall, dark-haired man aside, sheltering her from the onslaught.
“What’s your name?” he asked, so quietly, so gently, she wanted to cry.
Then she really did cry, because she couldn’t remember. The Nina part came out automatically, but after that, she got stuck. Nina… Nina who? She searched her memories and found them horrifyingly blank, like a photo negative left too long in the sun.
“Where are you staying?”
“Who can we call?”
“How did you get here?”
The questions surrounded her like a swarm of hornets, and no matter how she tried, she couldn’t find an answer to any of them. The harder she searched her mind, the more frantic she became. Like a person who’d lost the most precious thing imaginable, she searched the pockets of her mind, one after another and then all over again.
Her mouth opened and closed, but still, no words came. No memories, either.
A boat…two men…shouts…
But she didn’t remember stepping foot on a boat. She didn’t remember anything up to the moment she’d been thrown overboard. “Two men…threw me… A boat…” she murmured, but her words were as disjointed as her thoughts.
“What boat? What men?” someone demanded.
She threw her hands over her face and rolled sideways, trying to hide the tears, wishing she could disappear into the couch — as if she still had a scrap of pride to protect.
“Back off,” Boone barked, and just like that, the hubbub ceased. His voice was so sharp, so commanding, even she peeked up.
The other men looked startled at the command. They were equals, she sensed, unused to taking orders from each other. Any one of them could have led an elite military platoon, judging by the hard lines of their faces and their wide, no-nonsense stances. But for that moment, at least, Boone outranked them all.
“Back off,” he murmured again, and they did.
He readjusted the towel over her body and patted her arm.
It will be okay, the gesture said. I swear it will be okay.
She closed her eyes and focused on his touch — the only thing keeping her from going over the edge there and then.
“Get me that dish towel,” he murmured. A moment later, he wiped her face with a moist cloth. Slowly. Carefully. Tenderly, almost.
“She fell off a boat?” one of the men asked in a hushed voice that the others matched.
“Got pushed off, from the sounds of it,” another one corrected.
She wished they would all be quiet and let her pretend Boone was the only one in the room.
“Why would someone push her overboard?”
“Because they want her dead.”
“Why? What did she do?”
Nina wasn’t looking, but she felt their inquisitive glances bore into her skin.
“Why can’t she remember anything?”
She screamed at herself in her mind, wondering the same thing.
“Shock. Fear. Bump on the head?” Someone went through a whole catalog of possibilities. And damn, every one was true.
“So what are you going to do?” one of them asked Boone.
A heavy silence followed, and Nina held her breath. His hand brushed hers uncertainly.
Help me, she wanted to scream. Please help me.
“Let her rest,” he said at length. “Maybe she’ll remember after she gets some rest.”
Rest sounded good. Her body begged for it, and her mind latched on to the idea. All she needed was some rest, and everything would come back again, right?
“We have to tell Silas,” someone said.
Nina went tense all over. Whoever Silas was, she already knew to steer clear of him.
“Later,” Boone growled. “I’ll tell him soon. First, I have to take care of her.”
Taking care of had so many meanings, but she concentrated on the positive ones. Like the image of Boone tucking her into a bed and promising everything would be okay.
“Hang on,” he murmured, picking her up again.
She mumbled a halfhearted protest but immediately melted into place against him. Her chest against his, her arms around his neck. It all came naturally, just the way his arms fitted around her shoulders and knees.
“All you need is some sleep,” he assured her as he walked. “Everything will be okay.”
He carried her back toward the beach, and before she knew it, he was tucking her into a huge, cozy bed. She slipped in like Goldilocks going right for the biggest bed and hugged a pillow tightly, wondering if she could ever get to sleep.
A weight settled on the mattress behind her as he sat, stroking her shoulder.
“It will be okay,” he whispered.
Her eyelids drooped. Her body practically sighed. She’d gone from lost and terrified to safe and totally secure. A moment later, she dropped off into a blissfully dreamle
ss sleep.
Chapter Three
Boone took a deep breath and ordered himself to back up toward the door.
Just one more second, his inner wolf breathed.
He didn’t need a second. He needed to get the hell out before his wolf got any bad ideas — like memorizing the soft lines of her face and the gentle curves of her body. Like sniffing her closely and inhaling her heavenly scent. The scent that screamed at him, Mate, mate!
He backed away slowly, shaking his head. Maybe he’d gone too long without a woman’s company. Maybe his wolf was just totally fucked up. There was no way this human could be his mate.
She’s beautiful, his wolf murmured, watching her sleep.
He tried tearing his eyes away. Yes, she was beautiful, even in her disheveled state. Not runway-model-beautiful, but genuine, hometown, girl-next-door beautiful. The kind who didn’t need makeup or fancy clothes to stand out in a crowd. The kind who shone from the inside out.
He slammed on his mental brakes. Okay, okay. So she was pretty. So what?
She’s in danger. She needs our help, his wolf insisted.
His heart pounded harder at the thought of the bump on her head. Someone had tried to kill her. But why? Who?
His wolf rumbled in anger. Someone we will find and tear to pieces very, very soon.
Boone shook his head. He wasn’t going to get involved. He was getting the hell out of his cottage before she opened her eyes and saw him in the state he was in. His eyes were glowing — he could feel the heat behind them — and his fangs were ready to extend. His inner wolf was close to the surface, angry and aroused. Absolutely sure this woman was the one.
Mate. She is my destined mate, his wolf chanted, again and again.
Boone shook his head bitterly. That’s what you said about Tammy.
This is different, his wolf insisted.
It did feel different. His heart had never skipped so hard or fast, and his stomach was full of butterflies. Tammy had made him laugh — and cry — but the reaction was never as visceral, as intense.
This time I’m sure, his wolf said.
He snorted. I’ll take that as proof of how wrong you are.
His wolf had been sure about Tammy, once upon a time. His human side, too. He’d never met anyone who moved him to such levels of passion — or pain.
I love you, too, Boone. I’ll wait for you as long as it takes, Tammy had said. And yet she’d broken every heartfelt promise she’d made when he deployed.
Boone clenched his jaw. Tammy had broken his heart — make that, smashed it to bits with a wrecking ball. Which meant that the whole notion of destined mates was nonsense. Old-timers still believed in the legends, but no self-respecting wolf shifter believed in fate any more. Not these days.
He shook his head. He’d learned that lesson the hard way, and he wasn’t about to lose his heart — or head — again.
Except, shit. This mystery woman called to his soul, and he’d just tucked her into his bed. Worse, he’d promised her everything would be okay. Years ago, he’d sworn off promising anything to anyone, except maybe promising his brothers-in-arms that he’d guard their backs the way they guarded his. How the hell was he going to make sure she was okay without getting involved?
He glanced back one more time — bad idea, because a wisp of brown hair had fallen over her face, and he longed to smooth it out of the way — then dragged himself out the back in a rush. He shut the door behind him and leaned against it as if there were a wolf on the inside trying to get out instead of a wolf in his inside begging to rush back in. When he glanced up, his eyes landed on the curving line of a constellation. Scorpio. If that wasn’t a sign for him to tread carefully, what was?
Forget about Scorpio. The ancient Hawaiians called it Maui’s hook, his wolf huffed. The hook the god used to haul these islands out of the sea.
Yeah, well. He was still going to watch out for trouble. Now that he’d gone and promised, he’d see that vow through. He cast a glance over his shoulder at his own weather-beaten bungalow. A second later, he winced. Here he was, a full-grown man, still living in what was little more than a shack on the beach. He barely had three digits in his bank account. Even if the beautiful stranger was his mate, what did he have to offer other than a couple of surfboards and the battered treasures he’d found on the beach?
We do have the best view on Maui, his wolf tried, not quite getting the point.
Boone sighed, watching the moonlight dance over the sea. Great. He had a view and not much to show for three decades of existence except for a lot of scars — inside and out.
“Heya,” a low voice called.
Boone whipped around then relaxed. It was Hunter, the sole bear in their band of shifter-soldiers doing their best to live quiet, honest lives on Maui’s untamed northwest shores.
“She okay?” the grizzly asked, jerking his head toward the bungalow.
Boone nodded. “For now, I guess.”
Hunter tilted his head, paused for an eternity — bears took forever to put their thoughts into words — and finally spoke. “What about you?”
Boone wanted to laugh and say something like, Of course. Why wouldn’t I be okay? But damn, his pulse was still racing, his skin still tingling from the woman’s touch.
Nina. Her name is Nina, his wolf said.
He wanted to jam his hands over his ears, but what good would that do? His wolf was a goner. He had to rely on his more rational human half if he was going to resist the inexplicable pull to the woman in his bed.
“I’m fine. Perfect.”
Hunter let that one slide. “Silas is back. You gotta tell him, you know.”
Boone went perfectly still for a moment, then told himself to relax. Okay, so Silas was back from whatever black-tie event he’d been at. No problem, right?
Still, he took a deep breath and kicked the dirt before looking up toward the mansion built into the hill like an eagle’s nest. They were all equals here — he and the other shifters who’d settled on Koa Point. He was the only wolf; Hunter, the sole bear; and Cruz, the only tiger in a ragtag bunch that had been whipped into an elite military corps through a lot of blood, sweat, and tears. Despite their differences, they’d bonded into a band of brothers through many trials by fire. Every man had his strengths and a few carefully concealed weaknesses, and no one stood out above the rest.
Except Silas, the dragon shifter he had to face right now. Silas had been the leader of their top-secret Special Forces unit, and under him, a gang of stubborn individuals had become the perfect team, all dedicated to serving their country in covert overseas ops. Now that they were civilians again, Silas wasn’t anyone’s superior — technically speaking, at least. But old habits died hard, and everyone still treated the dragon as top dog. Silas was also the one who’d reunited the men a few months after they’d left the military and gone their separate ways — months in which every one of them had struggled for orientation until Silas invited them to this idyllic Hawaiian hideaway.
Here’s the plan, Silas had said. I got us the caretaker’s contract at an amazing estate. We’ll form an exclusive private investigator/bodyguard agency. We’ll pick and choose the cases we take. Earn good money. Live the good life. Maybe even watch the sun set from time to time — or whatever it is that civilians do.
They’d all laughed at that, even though that had been the crux of the problem with their transition to civilian life. What exactly would they all do next? Few of them had families or packs to return to. None really had a plan beyond retiring from wars that had stolen far too many innocent lives.
Silas had the plan, the connections, and clients lined up from the word go, and they’d all signed on. The work provided just enough of that feeling of living on the edge that they all missed. On the whole, though, life was easy — maybe too easy, Boone reflected — and everyone had his own space while they still had each other. A band of brothers who understood one another better than any outsider ever could.
His mind ju
mped to Nina, and his wolf gave a baleful cry. Nina was an outsider, too.
He shook his head and turned to Hunter. “You busy tonight?”
Hunter shrugged. Like all bears, the big guy spoke as much with gestures as with words.
“Keep an eye on my place, will you?” Boone said.
Lucky for him it was Hunter and not one of the other guys, all of whom would have launched into an interrogation about why Boone was so concerned for a woman he barely knew.
Because she could be my mate, that’s why. The thought shot through his mind. A good thing it didn’t slip off his tongue.
Hunter nodded, leaving Boone no choice but to head to Silas’s place. Koa Point Estate extended gradually uphill from the private beach where he’d found Nina, past the meeting house, to a craggy cliff a quarter of a mile inland. Earlier, he’d barely noticed the incline, even with Nina in his arms. But now, his steps were heavy and dull. The little stream beside the footpath bubbled as cheerfully as it always did, as if nothing in the world was wrong. The slope steepened, and the path folded into a series of stone steps that carried him toward the cleft in the cliffs. His inner wolf stirred, begging for some climb-and-play time. He loved bounding over those rocks in his free time.
Not now, buddy, he whispered to his inner beast. Not now.
Accent lights lay nestled beside the steps, lighting the path as it rose higher toward the estate owner’s house. A human might have nicknamed the bold structure The Eagle’s Nest or The Outlook, but Boone knew what it really was. A dragon’s lair. And even though he and the others trusted Silas with their lives, stepping onto Silas’s turf always made Boone straighten his shoulders and take a deep breath. The whole place screamed of power and authority even a wolf shifter wouldn’t want to mess with. A damn good thing Silas was one of the good guys.
Boone stepped onto the lowest terrace of the sprawling, multistory building and cleared this throat.
A dark, brooding form stood at the end of the terrace, looking out toward the sea. Even with Silas in human form and wearing a tailored suit, it didn’t take much imagination to picture a dragon puffing fire then gliding away on huge, leathery wings. That, or spinning and spitting fire at Boone when he heard the news.
