Rick turned out to be an excellent cook as well as an exceptional lover. Stephanie sat at his small kitchen table, attacking the scrambled eggs and toast as if she hadn't eaten for days. He watched her over the rim of his coffee cup, smiling at her enthusiasm.
"I have a surprise for you today," he said.
Since her mouth was stuffed with eggs, she lifted her brows to indicate he should continue.
"You wanted to see a den, remember? I know where one is."
"Are there pups?" she asked despite her full mouth.
"A litter of four about five weeks old."
"Can I film them?"
"I think I can convince the mother to allow you close enough."
Excited, Stephanie jumped up from the table. "I need to go back to my campsite and get my camera equipment." She moved around the table and hugged his neck. "I'll meet you back here in thirty minutes." She left humming a happy tune.
Rick wished he felt as carefree. The night he'd spent with Stephanie had been incredible. And not because it had been so long since he'd made love to a woman. With her, it wasn't just sex, but something deeper. A commitment because his heart had been included in the exchange. He loved her. Maybe he had from the moment he glanced up and saw her green eyes shooting sparks at him because he'd taken advantage of her. He'd taken advantage again last night. Knowing what he must do, he should have walked away from her. But he hadn't… couldn't, in fact.
He couldn't be honest with her, either. She wouldn't believe him if he told her the truth. She'd think he should be locked up in a mental hospital. So he'd taken that one night with her. Told himself it was his last chance to give and receive love. His last time to feel human again. But last night had been a mistake, because now that he loved her, he wasn't sure he could let it end with one night.
Rick rose from the table and gathered the dishes. He glanced at the calendar and cringed. Only three days until the full moon. Three more days of loving her; then he must end the nightmare. Why? the dark whispers began again. Why couldn't he continue his life, but with a mate by his side? He'd no longer be alone. He could help Stephanie adjust to her new life.
He shook his head, denying the tempting thoughts. Forcing Stephanie to share his cursed existence would be a selfish act. A cruel one. His plan was to help her finish her research and get her the hell gone. He only had three days. They'd have to hurry. He'd promised to contact the Fish and Wildlife Service himself as soon as she left. She could scurry back and get her project up and running.
Then he'd be called to do what he must. On the first night of the full moon, he'd take his life and save hers. He'd do it before the changes began. He'd have to or she'd suffer. Her scent still hung in the air. Rick closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Visions of tangled limbs and smooth, damp skin filled his head. He could happily spend the rest of his life with her, and he guessed he would.
Trusting or not, the female wolf hadn't been all that compliant about allowing them to stick their heads in her den. Just in case, Rick had brought along a mild sedative. The female had let him give her the drug; then they'd waited until she grew calm. Stephanie had both camera and video recorder. She took several shots of the frisky pups. Now she sat among them, cooing and lifting them, kissing each one on the head.
Despite the dark clouds gathering overhead, Rick smiled at her antics. She glanced up and smiled back at him. His heart warmed at the sight of her, wolf pups climbing all over her lap. She looked so beautiful to him in that instant, so innocent and trusting. She deserved a special man. Deserved a normal home and children of her own. She deserved all he could not give her.
"Come play with us," she urged.
Rick walked over and sat beside her. "That sedative will be wearing off soon," he warned her. He glanced up. "And it looks as if we're in for a storm tonight."
She turned her gaze on him. "I may have to take refuge at your place. I'm scared of storms."
He laughed. "You're not afraid of anything."
"We could pretend I am," she said, smiling seductively. A moment later, she sobered. "I mean, if you want me to stay."
What he wanted was forever, but he'd settle for another night with her. "Or we can pretend that storms frighten me."
It was her turn to laugh. "Okay," she agreed. "I like that better."
Thunder rumbled overhead. The female wolf resting inside the den growled.
"Time to go." Rick rose and offered Stephanie a hand up. "Come on, we'll have to run to make it back before the storm breaks."
After placing the pups inside the den with their mother, Stephanie took his hand. Rick shoved her video camera beneath his shirt and watched as she did likewise with the camera hanging around her neck.
Another loud rumble of thunder had him tugging her away from the den. They scrambled down a bluff and ran full out across the meadow where they had made love the previous evening. Large drops of rain fell from the sky. Stephanie squealed and pulled ahead of him. She ran inside the cabin, leaving the door open.
When he entered, he saw her stomping around and rubbing her arms. "That rain is freezing cold."
"Maybe I can warm you up," he said.
In answer, she quickly removed her camera from her neck, set it on the bar and began stripping. She dropped her wet shirt on the floor on her way to the bedroom. Rick growled low in his throat and followed.
Later, while the rain made drumming noises on the roof, and lightning flashed outside the windows, he held her naked and content in his arms.
"Rick?" she asked. "Do you ever think about leaving this place?"
Of course he'd thought about it. But where could he go except another remote place just like this one? A place where he could run wild during the full moon with those of his kind. "No," he answered.
"Would you consider it?" she asked after a hesitant pause.
"I can't leave, Stephanie," he said point-blank.
"It's not as if your business is thriving. And a good vet along on an expedition is always a plus."
There was nothing he could say to spare her feelings. He'd love to get out of this place, back to civilization, or to follow her around on her expeditions doing whatever he could. Anywhere she was would be fine with him. But that wasn't possible.
"I might consider leaving," he amended his earlier answer. "I'd have to get some things in order first."
"Well, of course," she said. "I didn't mean tomorrow. I meant… someday."
He kissed the top of her head, wishing he didn't have to lie to her. There was no future for them. "I'd like for you to meet my parents," he said, then realized he'd expressed the thought out loud.
Stephanie shifted so that she could see him. "I'd love to meet them."
His mother, he felt certain, would be very pleased with Stephanie. She had once complained that the women he dated seemed plastic and shallow. She'd insisted that he meet a sweet down-to-earth girl and get married. He had the perfect woman lying in his arms, and no right to hold on to her. Rather than lie to Stephanie further, he kissed her into silence.
A kiss led to a touch, a touch to another kiss; then nature took its course. He made slow love to her while the storm outside raged. Rick felt grateful for one more night of being human. One more night to love her, hold her, and wish it could last forever. But even lost in the feel and taste of her, he couldn't block out the clock ticking in his head. Time would soon run out for them.
Chapter Eleven
"Leave? What do you mean, leave?" Stephanie asked. She and Rick sat at his kitchen table again, having coffee and toast. She'd spent the previous day getting some great coverage of the wolves. With him by her side, she'd even managed to get coverage of the pack attacking a sheep herd.
She'd tried to hide the strange things happening to her from Rick. There was no way she'd tell him she felt the urge to run wild with the wolves. To take down prey and feast on blood. He'd think she'd gone bonkers. And maybe she had. But his kisses chased away her fears. In his arms, she forgot the weird way she
felt at times: her keen night vision, her hunger for raw meat, her desire to howl at the moon.
"I think you should get things started on the other end," he answered. "I told you I'd call the authorities later today. You need to get a rescue started, use your pictures and research to make a case for our wolves."
"But why can't I just wait for the authorities to show up here with you? I could tell them—"
"I'll tell them," he assured her. "Your job is to show them."
He had a point. She needed to get her pictures and material back to the organization as soon as possible. It would take the proper authorities a while to arrive on the scene anyway. The truth was, she didn't want to leave him. She'd felt uneasy all morning, as if something were about to happen. Something bad.
"And you think I should leave right away?" she asked, hoping he'd say he didn't want her to go at all.
"The sooner the better," he answered.
His response hurt her feelings. She tried to hide it by lowering her gaze. "It won't take me long to pack up. I can be gone by this afternoon."
Rick rose from the table. "If I help, you'll be on the road faster."
All right, she wasn't imagining his haste to get rid of her. She shouldn't have expected anything more. All she'd asked for was one night, and she'd received more than that. Still, he didn't have to act so cold about it. He didn't have to shove her out as quickly as possible so he could get on with his life.
She rose. "No need. I'm used to doing for myself. I'll be out of your hair in no time."
Snatching up her cameras, Stephanie headed for the door. As fast as a predator, Rick blocked her exit.
"I—I don't know what to say," he stammered.
She glanced up. "You could say 'don't go.' You could say you'll come with me. You could at least say you'll miss me while I'm gone."
"I will miss you." He placed his hands on her shoulders, and she thought he'd pull her close, but he released her almost as quickly as he'd taken hold of her. "Take care of yourself."
Tears threatened. Stephanie blinked them back. "Of course I will," she said, her words clipped. "Good-bye, Rick."
Before she made a fool of herself, she brushed past him and out the door. She didn't look back, either. Her heart felt as if it were breaking, but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing how deeply he'd hurt her. How much she had foolishly come to care for him.
Real love took time. Rick had simply been an infatuation. Her hormones had been on the rampage. He'd used her for sex, and she'd allowed him to do so. Had, in fact, encouraged him. And it was great sex, so she shouldn't complain. She'd stopped believing in fairy tales years ago. Men and women seldom lived happily ever after in today's world. She was on her own, had been for the past three years, and probably would be for the rest of her life.
"No problem," she said to bolster her spirits. But it was no good. She did believe in fairy tales. She wanted true love. She wanted a husband and children. She wanted Rick. The tears gathered again, and she allowed them to fill her eyes. Even allowed them to flow down her cheeks. A good cry never hurt anyone.
"I love you, Stephanie."
She stopped and wheeled around. No one stood behind her. Her gaze frantically searched the area, hoping against hope that she hadn't imagined his voice in her head. Hadn't wanted him to love her so much that she'd conjured up his voice in her mind. But he was not there.
He was back at the cabin, had already dismissed her. Not a care in the world. He probably felt relieved that she'd left. Happy that he could continue with his boring little life. Thankful that she hadn't cried or made a scene so he wouldn't have to feel guilty.
"Typical man," she muttered, turning to resume her trek to the campsite. He wanted her gone, fine. She would leave, and she'd concentrate on the task at hand. When she returned to the area with the documentary team, she would not melt on the spot the minute she saw him, or hope like a silly schoolgirl that he'd have a change of heart—rush to her, go down on one knee, and beg her to be his wife. The thought was so pleasing she almost forgot how angry she was with him. But not for long. She was out of here, and Rick Donavon be damned.
"Dammit," Rick swore, fumbling through his closet like a madman. Thanks to an unexpected visit from Hugh Fielding, the hour had grown later than he'd realized. Rick had told him about the traps, and the sheriff had agreed to dissuade the farmers from setting them again.
Hugh had also agreed to contact both the Fish and Wildlife Service and the United States Department of Agriculture concerning the problem. Stephanie, and other wildlife defenders like her, would see that the animals were not destroyed, but relocated to another area where wild game was more abundant, and livestock less likely to be threatened.
He'd taken care of everything he'd wanted to tie up today—making certain that Stephanie left, his concern over the wolves, and the letter to his parents. It was the longest letter he'd ever written, telling them he missed them and would come for a visit soon; then he'd casually mentioned that he planned on doing some hunting in the next few days.
A glance out his bedroom window confirmed that it would soon be dark. His hand closed around what he'd been searching for, his gun-cleaning kit. He wanted his death to look like an accident. He'd retrieved the rifle he purchased before his hunting trip with Jason. His parents would believe the rifle had accidentally discharged while he was cleaning it. No guilt for them. No wondering what they had done wrong or if they could have done something to make him change his mind.
He wanted Stephanie to believe his death had been an accident, as well. His one regret was that he hadn't told her that he loved her. He'd crept into the woods and hidden, making certain she packed up her campsite. Watching her drive away was the hardest thing he'd ever done. But she was safe now, would soon be safe forever. At least from the curse that plagued him.
Rick grabbed his rifle, a box of ammunition, and the gun-cleaning kit and moved into the living area. He glanced at his favorite chair, frowned at the idea of messing up the place, and went outside. He propped the rifle against the cabin, placed the cleaning kit and the ammunition on the steps, then went back inside. There was something he'd forgotten. He walked into the bedroom. With shaking hands, he picked up the rosary resting on his nightstand. He fingered the beads, then closed his eyes and prayed.
He prayed for courage, prayed for his eternal soul, and prayed for those he loved to be watched over and protected. His hand shook harder, and he knew it had nothing to do with fear. The change was coming. It lurked just beneath the surface of his humanity. The beast wanted to be free. Rick replaced the beads and hurried through the cabin.
Once outside, he sat on the steps and fumbled with the box of ammunition. He'd managed to get two shells loaded when he spotted headlights on the road moving toward him. "What now?" he growled in frustration.
The closer the vehicle came, the harder his heart pounded. Stephanie's Jeep pulled up in front of him. He groaned, his hands clamping tightly around the barrel of the rifle. She opened the door and climbed out.
"I couldn't leave," she said, walking up to the porch. "I had a feeling. A feeling that something bad was about to happen."
What she felt was the wolf beneath her skin. Her body preparing for the change. "There's nothing wrong, Stephanie," he said, trying to keep the panic from his voice. "If you leave right now, you should be able to reach a hotel before it gets too late."
"I had planned on driving through the night." She took a step closer and glanced at the rifle in his hands. "What are you doing?"
"Cleaning my gun," he answered. "Just passing time."
"You told me once that you're not the hunting type. Why do you need a gun?"
"I don't need it," he answered. "I'm just cleaning it!"
She looked a little taken aback by his impatient explanation. Rick immediately regretted losing his temper, but dammit, she was supposed to be gone. Safely away from him and the nasty business he must conclude.
"You should be careful," she
said. "People get killed every day messing around with guns. Is that what happened to your brother?"
"No," he answered, but didn't bother to elaborate. He didn't see any way for this situation to end but badly. Sparing her feelings wasn't anything he could do at the moment, "i told you to leave earlier," he reminded. "I've already taken care of everything with Hugh. You're no longer needed here."
Her bottom lip trembled. He wanted to jump up and take her in his arms. Rick forced himself to remain seated, his expression blank.
"Or wanted," she said, lifting her chin. "I thought you cared about me."
The expression of hurt on her face was almost his undoing. He wanted to tell her she hadn't been wrong about him, or what he felt for her, but then she wouldn't leave. In order to be kind, he had to be cruel. That was nature's way.
"I cared about having a good time," he said. "And now the good time is over. Get in your Jeep and leave."
Rifle in hand, he rose and walked into the cabin, shutting the door. He closed his eyes and waited—silently begged her to obey him. His skin had started to itch. His gums hurt. The sound of her vehicle starting nearly made his knees buckle. She would probably hate him from this day forward, but that was just as well, too. She'd be more willing to find someone else and get on with her life.
Worried that time had run out, Rick lifted the rifle, placing the barrel against his heart. His finger found the trigger. He said another short prayer and started to squeeze. The cabin door burst open.
"Rick?" Stephanie whispered. "Look at my eyes. I glanced in the rearview mirror and caught a glimpse of myself. My eyes are glowing!"
And they were, as he suspected his were. She suddenly took a step back. Her glittering gaze moved from the rifle to his eyes.
After Twilight Page 29
