“Sounds sweet, but has it occurred to you publishing photographs of individual wolves and showing their exact location outside the protection of the park puts them at grave risk?”
“From who?”
“Pissed-off ranchers, poachers, and any number of psychos who get their kicks owning the pelt of an animal everybody else has fawned over. Do you have any idea how many creeps out there would love to say they shot ol’ White Socks and her pups or whatever you christen the wolves? A lot. The sad part is they’ll never be prosecuted. If they claim they felt threatened, they’ll be within their rights to shoot. The wolves aren’t protected on private land.”
“I disagree. I plan to bring positive attention to Los Lobos wolf population. In the long run, the more people aware of the problem, the safer the wolves will be.”
His hands clenched to fists. “No offense, Miss López, but you just drove in from Los Angeles. You can’t fully grasp how complicated our situation is.”
“I have a Jeep parked in back, loaded with film equipment. I spent the last eight months of my life doing extensive wolf research and nearly all my savings on this project. I need this to work, so please don’t insult me by saying I haven’t given this serious thought.”
Rio stood, revealing a powerful build. He stepped closer until she was forced to tip her chin up. “I could choose to give your deposit back. I don’t have to rent the cabin to you.”
“You could, but I won’t be stopped. I’ll figure out something else.” She stared at Rio. He returned the stiletto gaze in the most provoking way with nostrils flared. She sensed this was a crucial challenge and held her ground, willing herself not to blink. He loomed so close she felt his warm breath on her cheek.
Finally, he broke the death-stare and looked away. “I’ll give you credit for being determined. Miss López, will you accept some helpful advice?”
The brief but intense mini-standoff left her rattled. “Sure.”
“My advice to you is—accept helpful advice. Don’t charge off by yourself. You’ll get into trouble. Tell me what you plan to do. I’ll assist you within reason. I know the wolf population in Los Lobos. There are certain things in this group you can or cannot do. If I tell you not to do something, I expect you to respect the boundary.”
She bristled. “I always tread lightly. This isn’t a hobby. This is what I do. I’ve shot and produced six wildlife documentaries for the public broadcasting channels. I admit I’m more familiar with Central and South America. Experience has taught me how to deal with delicate matters and local politics. This is my first time working in South Dakota, but seriously, what’s so different about the situation in Los Lobos?”
Looking like a grizzly rearing onto its hind legs, Gee leaned over the counter in a conspicuous attempt to eavesdrop.
“Do you have to stand so close?” Rio gave Gee a withering look. “Can we have a moment of privacy—please?”
“You’re in over your head.” Gee ambled away with a huff.
Rio corralled Sela with his arm. The stern line of his mouth softened. “The cabin’s built on sacred land I inherited from my grandmother. She was a full-blood Cherokee. ‘Waya’ is the Cherokee word for wolf. My grandmother’s kin have always had a special spiritual relationship with the wolves.”
The penetrating gleam in his eyes warned her he was not the sort a man to disregard. “You mean a Cherokee wolf mythology?”
“No. I mean a family mythology. The Wayas have been doing their own thing for a long time.”
She drew a tense breath. “I think I understand. You’re concerned I’m going to be disrespectful to your ancestors or do something blasphemous with the wolves and record everything on film?”
“Um.” He appeared perplexed. “Something like that.”
“Then please tell me exactly what I shouldn’t do.”
“I’d ask you to walk away from Los Lobos. To not film the wolves at all, but I don’t believe for a moment you’d listen.”
She shook her head. “You’re right. I won’t walk away. I have my heart set on this. If you turn me down, I’ll rent another cabin or set up camp somewhere else.”
“I had a feeling you’d say that.”
Looking directly at Rio, she noticed his eyes appeared a much warmer shade of brown than she had first thought. “You don’t have to worry. I’ll treat the cabin with respect and the wolves as if they were part of my own family.”
He immediately averted his gaze. “I suppose we could try.”
“Medium rare.” Gee set a steaming hamburger buried beneath heaps of fries and onion rings in front of Sela.
Everything on the plate looked delicious. “Thank you. I thought I ordered this to go?”
“Stay awhile. Enjoy your food.” Gee gave Rio a sickly sweet little grin. “L.A. stood up to you. I like her.”
The crease between his brows deepened. “Gee, no one asked your opinion.”
She gingerly picked up a fistful of scorching hot fries and ferried them over to Rio’s plate.
He appeared puzzled. “Why?”
“Peace offering.” She wondered what he looked like when he smiled. “I’m sure yours are cold by now.”
Rio picked up one of the token offerings, lifting the hot french fry to his lips. He didn’t even care he was about to get burned big time. In fact, he wanted the pain. Better to take the punishment now than suffer a shitload of hurt after he did something stupid like make a play for Sela López, which absolutely, positively could not happen. To his eyes, she was knockout gorgeous with killer curves. She had plenty of sass, too. She hadn’t backed down a bit from his most withering I-just-put-you-in-your-place look.
Something else caught him off-guard—her scent. One whiff of her subtle female aroma had brought his blood to a boil.
Holy crap, what had he gotten himself into? By the tone of her e-mail inquiries about the cabin, he’d come to the false conclusion Miss López was a dried-up academic collecting data about the Los Lobos wolf population. Instead, a Latina temptress with an ass that made him want to bite his fist and whimper had shown up.
This was a touchy situation. Without doubt, Miss López had to be discouraged from the task at hand with efficient stealth. He had to send her on her merry way ASAP. Statistics and graphs were one thing, a full-blown, television-quality documentary coupled with possible exposure of the “family secret” was another. Dealing with Sela wasn’t going to be easy. Likely, he was already fucked.
He bit into the fry. The internal temperature was volcanic. In an instant, a blister formed on the tender skin inside his lip. “Hot, hot, hot!” He leaned forward to allow the fry to slide from his mouth onto the plate, the same way a disgusted child would spit out a boiled Brussels sprout.
When he glanced up, he saw to his horror, she was laughing.
Sela dabbed a paper napkin to her mouth. “I’m sorry.” She giggled. “You made the best face!” With lips sealed, she appeared to be holding her breath to contain her amusement, but more laughter burst out. “I was trying to be gracious by sharing my fries. I’m killing you with kindness aren’t I?”
He watched her with fascination. Sela was so pretty. Dazzling smile with a tiny dimple in her cheek. Her dark eyes twinkled. “I might forgive you.”
She brushed her hand against his. The touch lingered. “Let’s start over, okay? I want to be your friend. Blow on the fries first.”
He froze. Her unexpected gesture was innocent, yet so powerful. The unmistakable pull of attraction coupled with a desire to flee overwhelmed him. For a heart stopping moment confusion reigned.
She noticed him staring at her fingers and snatched her hand back. With uninhibited gusto, she picked up her burger and bit into it.
“Oh!” she muttered. “This is good.” An enraptured expression crossed her face. She licked the top of her lip. For a moment, he envied the burger. “How far is the cabin?” The mouthful of food garbled her words.
“About ten miles, but the road is rough dirt. We have to cros
s a few gullies.”
“I’m sorry I was so late getting to town. I ruined your evening. If I’d realized I’d made you wait this long, I would have gotten a hotel room and called you in the morning.”
The image of Sela opening the door to a hotel room or, heaven help him, inviting him inside struck him hard. He was dying to run his hands around her waist and pull her close. The whole idea was exciting and slightly forbidden; Sela was an outsider. Common sense dictated she should remain one. Too bad he loved her scent and found her so fucking attractive.
“The drive sounds like a long haul. I’m going to have to turn around in the morning to come back to town to buy groceries.”
He shook his head. “I stocked the cabin with a few necessary things, coffee, paper goods, oatmeal…. There’s a freezer full of venison and wild game wrapped and labeled. You’re welcome to all of it.”
“Thanks.” She glanced at his untouched food. “You’re not going to eat?”
He was afraid to admit his stomach was doing a nervous, twisting tango from having to sit so close to a beautiful woman. It had been ages since he’d felt a spark toward anyone. Even longer since he’d treated himself to a lover. He needed one, too. The sooner he got away from Sela, the better off he’d be. “I’m not hungry. I’ll get a to-go box.”
Gee bumbled around behind the counter. A furtive glance made it obvious he’d been listening. “What’s with you, Rio? You came here pissed-off and ravenous. Now, you don’t want my new, greatly improved burger?” A low growl rumbled in his chest. “I guess there’s no pleasing some people.”
Sela set her half-eaten burger on the plate. “I’ve really wrecked your night, haven’t I? I feel awful. I’ll get a to-go box, too.” She signaled for Gee and stood. “Check please, mine and his.”
Now, he felt terrible about making her rush. “We don’t need to leave yet. Sit,” he commanded.
“No. I’ve wasted enough of your time.”
Without thought, he gently tugged on her sleeve. “Don’t rush on my account.”
She pulled free of his feather-light grasp. “I’m tired. We should probably leave. Let’s get this over with.”
He wanted a beer, but it was asking for trouble to hang around the bar, waiting to say or do the next wrong thing in front of Sela. Goddamnit, why did it have to be this way? Sela was his exact type. It wasn’t as if he had to wolf-shift in front of her or explain his true situation. He’d invested a lifetime protecting his pack’s secret, always sharing just enough with lovers from the outside but not too much. Deep intimacy was something he’d never allowed. Exposure was not his friend.
A career on the move as an Army Ranger coupled with being a shifter had made settling down with an understanding woman all but impossible. He was thirty-four, far past the age most men in the pack took a life mate.
He reached for his leather jacket and slipped his arms through the sleeves. “Let’s go.”
Sela studied the Los Lobos Ranger patch on Rio’s sleeve, remembering she’d scratched his truck. Now was the time to say something, but she stared in silence instead. Dang, he sure looked good in leather. A broad shouldered brick house. He had such an interesting face, too. There was a lot of depth to his eyes. She was quick to remind herself the summer in Los Lobos County was slated to be devoted to the wolves’ plight, while she healed from her uber-shitty divorce from her ex, Matt.
Matt had left her for somebody else. They were already expecting a child. The incident had left her sick with envy. Life wasn’t fair. She’d been working like a dog, building a future. Then a few shitty text messages proved everything she thought was solid had slipped away.
We need to talk.
I can’t do this anymore.
I’m not the right man 4U.
In truth, maybe Matt had never been solid. From the start, he had a wandering eye. Long weeks spent apart on location hadn’t helped matters, either. She was always the dependable one, but damn she’d loved him.
Now, her savings and dignity were on the line. She needed to show up in L.A. next September with useable wolf footage paired with a winning sales pitch. A rising sense of desperation for this project to work haunted her. It was too late in the season to concoct a plan B.
Gee handed her the bill along with two take-out containers. Dropping a twenty on the countertop, which was plenty, she slid what was left of her burger and fries into the box. Rio did the same with his uneaten food.
In silence she followed Rio out of The Den. They stepped into the night. For late May, the night was chilly by Los Angeles standards. She wished her coat wasn’t buried in the backseat beneath a ton of equipment and camera cases. She shivered. “Brr.”
“Ha!” Rio scoffed. “Are you cold? This is not cold.”
“I spend my days closer to the equator. I’m thin blooded. The last wildlife location I filmed was in Honduras. The place was sweltering.”
“You’ll adapt. I know firsthand. I did six tours all over the Arab Peninsula. You can get used to anything.” He swung his jacket from his shoulders. With a gallant gesture, he offered. “Wear this.”
She was tempted. Ages had passed since a handsome man had been so spontaneous with her. She gravitated toward the jacket, sensing luscious body heat trapped in soft leather, but stopped. Something about the offer felt way too intimate. If she allowed Rio to distract her, he could really derail her plans. “No thanks. I’ll use the Jeep’s heater.”
Disappointment erased his faint smile. He withdrew the jacket, slinging it over one shoulder. When they reached the alley, he stopped beside the truck to open the driver’s side. “I’ve got something I want you to hang on to.” He reached across the seat to pick up a map, flashlight, and a small case.
With a guilty conscience she eyed the ding in the door—now prominent beneath the glow of a neon sign. “I scratched your truck.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean why? This was an accident. I didn’t mean to.”
He examined the damage. “Don’t worry. Gravel flies around here. Trucks take a beating.”
“You’re so calm. I was afraid you’d turn into an angry hornet.”
“You weren’t being malicious, so why would I get angry?”
Sela relaxed her shoulders. A paint scrape would have made Matt freak out big time.
Rio handed her a folded map. Then clicked on the flashlight to illuminate it. “Keep this in your Jeep until you’re certain you know the way.” He traced his finger along a yellow highlighted line. “This is the most dependable route. Gray Paw Mountain is crisscrossed with dozens of trails and fire roads. Half of them wash out after a hard rain. Taking the wrong one could easily get you lost. I drove a stake into the ground at every junction and tied a piece of orange cloth to them so you could find your way in daylight.”
“Thanks. I’m sure I’ll need markers the first couple trips.”
He handed her a small zippered bag with a strap. “Carry this with you in the Jeep. It’s an HT. I want you to have emergency communication with the ranger’s station.”
She took hold of the strap. “What’s an HT?”
“Handheld Transceiver. Two-way radio.”
“You mean walkie-talkie?”
“Yes. Do you know how to use one?”
“I usually take one with me into the jungle. I’m sure it’ll be handy here, too, but I don’t know who I’d talk to.”
“You can talk to me.”
A nervous flutter took her breath. The schoolgirl reaction couldn’t be good for her plans, which included lots of time in man-free isolation to get her mind right. “If I need help, I’ll call.”
“Do. I’m just up the road.” With a shrug, he thrust his hands into his jeans pockets. “We should go. There’s a rough drive ahead.”
When Hell Freezes Page 7
