“These are unsigned.” Suzannah waved at the canvases. “Does she want to be known as Nel or use her full name?”
“I’m not sure,” Tristan said.
“She’ll need to decide.” Suzannah withdrew a slim phone from the designer purse hanging from her right shoulder and began snapping pictures.
“What are you doing?”
“You remember Gilbert Michaud,” she said with a French pronunciation. “He’s always looking for new talent for his gallery. I assume you know where to find this Nel person?”
“This is her cabin.”
Suzannah’s golden eyebrows arched in perfect formation.
“She’s just a friend.” The word turned to ash in Tristan’s mouth.
“This might actually be good.” Tristan’s mother patted his cheek. “Since you’re sleeping with her, you can help me secure an exclusive showing if Gilbert is interested.”
Tristan sighed. Of course Suzannah couldn’t stop thinking about herself for sixty seconds to consider the gravity of her wolfan son cohabiting with a human female, even for a few days.
“When will she be back?” Suzannah squeezed his sore arm. “I need to speak with her.”
Tristan’s protective instinct flared. He couldn’t begin to count the number of times Suzannah had promised him something but didn’t deliver.
“I’d rather you didn’t.” Even though he believed Nel was highly gifted, she was insecure about her talent. He didn’t want his meddling mother’s failure to follow through to strengthen Nel’s doubts.
“First, show the pictures to Gilbert. If he is really interested in Nel’s work, then we’ll talk about arranging a meeting.” And Tristan planned to be in attendance. He wouldn’t allow anyone to pressure, coerce, or take advantage of Nel or injure her gentle spirit. Not even his mother.
Chapter 19
“Is this really a good idea?” Nel skimmed past Tristan, holding open the gate to the resort pool. The buzz of a dozen happy voices filled the warm air of the early afternoon. The smell of chlorine and pine tickled her nose.
“I’ve been cooped up for days. Doc said pool exercises will do me good.”
“I meant waiting at least an hour after eating before we swim.”
“That’s an old wives’ tale.” Tristan chuckled behind her.
They slowly made their way across the concrete patio to a quiet spot in a shaded corner near the shallow end of the pool. She caught her hesitant reflection in the mirrored lenses of Tristan’s new sunglasses, purchased in the resort’s gift shop.
“You’ve nothing to worry about, sweet cheeks.” The brightness of his grin rivaled the sun as he placed their towels on the table beneath a huge umbrella.
“I’m not worried for myself.” Beneath his T-shirt, bruises still colored Tristan’s skin and his movements were still stiff and halting. “If you start drowning, I can’t save you.” She wasn’t that strong a swimmer.
“Fatalistic, aren’t you?”
“Realistic,” she corrected.
“I’m not going to drown and neither are you.” He limped to the pool and sat on the edge.
One of the teenagers at the deep end of the pool cannonballed the water. Nel was far enough away that only a couple of drops from the spray reached her. A float divider separated the two sections of the pool and she hoped the other guests stayed on the opposite side.
“Come on, sweet cheeks.”
Nel stiffly slipped off her cover-up and laid it beside their towels on the table. Self-conscious about wearing her newly purchased bathing suit, she walked with fake confidence to the spot where Tristan had gone into the pool.
“How’s the water?”
“Not nearly cold enough.” He swallowed and she watched his Adam’s apple slowly inch down his throat.
Nel’s cheeks flushed, but not from the heat of the sun. Dressed in a modest two-piece, she couldn’t imagine why her appearance got him so hot and bothered. The halter top cupped her ample breasts, but flared nicely to camouflage her hearty waist. And the bottoms were full-cut boy shorts that slightly slimmed her hips and thighs. Nothing too revealing, and yet the look Tristan gave her was as blatant as if she were standing in front of him naked.
She sat at the edge of the shallow end of the pool and dangled her feet in the water.
“Don’t move.” He inhaled sharply and sank below the water for a full two minutes. It seemed longer, but she counted out the seconds. He resurfaced, shaking the water from his head. “Had to get my bearings again.”
He waded toward her, the water hitting him at waist level. He laid his sunglasses beside her and then cupped the backs of her calves. “I’ll be right here. You don’t have to be afraid.”
“I’m not afraid of the water.” She simply didn’t like it very much.
“Why are you so tense?” His damp hands ran the lengths of her arms, warming her despite the coolness of his palms.
“People are staring at us.”
With a face and body like his, women naturally fawned over him. Even now, the gaze of nearly every woman, and a few men, at the pool were on him. And her by default.
She hated when people stared at her. After her parents died, hospital workers gawked and whispered just outside her room. When she started a new school, the students and teachers couldn’t stop staring at the ugly scar on her arm. In high school, the cheerleaders pointed and laughed because she wasn’t a stick figure like them. But it was the boys’ slack-jawed ogling when her breasts had developed that she’d hated the most.
“That’s because they know they’re in the presence of royalty.” Though Tristan’s gaze roamed her every curve, she didn’t feel ogled or objectified. Instead, he made her feel cherished, appreciated.
“My queen.” Tristan held out his hand.
Nel’s fingertips glided over his wet palm. The energy that crackled whenever they touched prickled against the pads of her fingers.
Tristan must have felt it, too. Chill bumps erupted on his arm, causing the tiny hairs along his skin to rise. His nostrils flared slightly. Awareness flickered in the depths of his unwavering gaze focused entirely on her.
A month ago, if someone had told her that not only would she meet an incredibly handsome man, but that they would become friends—no, definitely more than friends—Nel wouldn’t have believed them. At times, the reality of it was startling.
She’d always fallen short in the eyes of the men she previously dated. Her hair color was wrong. She was too curvy, too tall, too plain. She dressed too casual.
She was too uptight.
Yeah? Well, if they’d had someone criticizing everything about them, they would’ve been uptight, too.
But with Tristan, Nel never felt lacking.
“Ready for your first lesson?” He gave her a soft smile. Even though he often presented people with a megawatt smile, his understated ones affected her the most, pulling at her heartstrings and stirring something deep within.
“Are you sure that you feel up to this?”
“Nel, I’m bruised. Not broken. I’m fine.” His expression turned slightly cocky. “Better than fine, actually. I haven’t felt this damn good in a long time.”
He helped her into the water and led her away from the edge. “I thought this would be a fun way to get you wet.” He scooped water into his large hands and dumped it on her head.
“Hey!” She splashed him and his laughter swirled around her as he slipped behind her.
His muscular arms caged her. “Take a deep breath. I’m going to dunk you.”
“You wouldn’t dare!”
“Oh, yes I would. I promised to teach you how to handle yourself when we go on the Outreach’s field trip. If you fall out of the raft, your life vest will bob you to the surface.” He lifted Nel off her feet. “Rea
dy?”
A nervous excitement twirled in her stomach and spiraled through her. Deep inside, Nel knew if she told Tristan to put her down, he would. She also knew she’d never been safer.
Nel gulped air, pinched her nose and nodded.
They splashed into the water, dropping down to the bottom only to shoot straight up. As soon as they broke the surface, Tristan spun her around. His hands wiped water from her eyes.
“Okay, sweet cheeks?”
“Yeah.” She peeked open one eye and then the other.
Water dripped from the tip of his nose and jaw, and droplets clung to his long eyelashes. He shook his head vigorously.
“Watch it!” She shielded her face behind her arms to protect herself from the water pellets lobbed in her direction.
“I’d rather watch you.” A soft growl tinged his husky voice.
* * *
Hooking his thumb beneath Nel’s chin, Tristan tipped her face. Instead of a kiss, he grazed his jaw along her cheek.
Seeing her face after the accident...he’d never been so happy to see someone in all his life. And every morning since, waking up next to her curled against him was worth all the pain he’d endured.
If he had any sense, he’d get as far away from her as he possibly could go. He knew better than to commit to any woman.
He’d been resigned to his fate, until Nel came along and she’d made being a couple seem comfortable and effortless.
Except they weren’t a couple.
He was merely a houseguest, platonically sharing her bed, while he recovered.
Maybe he’d succumbed to some sort of Nightingale syndrome, developing feelings for his caretaker. He hoped the cure was distance, which was what he expected to place between them once the rafting trip was over.
“What’s next?” An expectant smile anchored the absolute trust in Nel’s face.
“When you bob to the surface, you’ll need to position yourself so that the river will carry you back to the raft. We’ll start with the basic back float.”
“I never liked floating in a pool. People jumping and splashing all around me, I was afraid someone would land on top of me and I’d drown.”
“I won’t let you drown.” And he definitely wouldn’t allow someone on top of her. Unless it was him.
He helped her maneuver into a prone position on top of the water. Her hand gripped his arm almost to the point of pain. “Relax, Nel. I won’t let go.”
Mine!
The booming voice was so loud Tristan jerked.
“What’s wrong?” Nel broke position and stood.
“Thought I heard someone behind me.”
Tristan shook off whatever it was that had sounded very much like his own voice. Repositioning Nel in the water, his free hand trailed down her back until he splayed his fingers at the base of her spine. His other hand rested on her stomach. “Close your eyes and just breathe.”
She cut her gaze sharply at him. Have you lost your mind?
Clear as a church bell, her voice, an octave higher and tinged with incredulous sarcasm, rang through his mind.
He would’ve thought she’d said the words, but her jaw was locked tight and her lips never moved.
Perhaps he’d simply interpreted the look. He couldn’t have actually heard her thoughts. Wolfans were only telepathic with their own kind when in wolf form. The only exception was when a mate-bond formed between a wolfan and his mate.
Nel was definitely not his mate. A mate-claim could only be established when a wolfan male bit a female while having sex, and he was careful to ensure that never happened. The last thing he wanted was to accidentally claim a female and spend the rest of his life suffering the miserable repercussions.
“You have to relax, Nel. Think of something you like,” Tristan paused. “Imagine that you’re painting. Think of everything involved. Go to that place and relax.”
She continued staring at him.
“This isn’t going to work if you don’t relax.” Knees bent, he hunkered in the water so that only his head and shoulders were above the surface. “I’m going to count backward from five. When I get to one, let your body go limp.”
He counted slowly. On two, her eyes closed and her breathing shallowed.
The tension drained from her body, even her grip eased. Her trust humbled him. It also stroked his ego and he would do anything to maintain her faith in him.
Water gently lapped around her face and the outline of her body. Tendrils of hair that had come loose from her braid floated like a halo around her head.
The face of an angel and a body he wanted to worship.
God, she was achingly beautiful.
Not like the stick-thin, hollow-cheeked beauty glamorized in magazines. Nel’s curves, soft features, and warm eyes were the substance of hearth and home. She was the comfort a man couldn’t wait to get home to each night.
Longing gripped him body and soul.
Already he knew that he would never forget her warmth, her softness, the gentleness of her spirit. The taste of her skin. Nor would he forget her trust, her kindness, her genuine concern. He suspected memories of Nel would keep him warm on long, lonely future nights.
A loud splash landed just to his left. Tristan swept Nel into his arms and stood, but not before the tidal wave dumped huge amounts of water onto her. He spun away from the disturbance as laughter filled the air.
Nel coughed, wiping water from her face.
“Are you okay?”
She nodded.
Slowly he slid her out of his arms until she stood.
He turned on the teenager. “Get out!”
“Dude, it was just a joke.”
“Don’t play jokes on people you don’t know, and don’t horse around in the pool. It’s dangerous.”
“Yeah, right.” The kid slammed his fists into the water, panning a wave toward Tristan.
Tristan stepped forward.
“Want a piece of this?” The kid beat his chest like a baboon.
The lack of respect some children had for adults never failed to amaze Tristan.
“What I want—” without touching the kid, Tristan backed him up against the side of the pool “—is for you and your friends to get out of the water.”
“Says who?” The kid’s face twisted.
“The one permanently revoking your pool privileges.” Tristan whistled. Two sentinels wearing the resort’s security team shirts stepped from their hideaways. “Round ’em up and see that they don’t bother anyone else,” he told them.
Without hesitation, the sentinel closest to Tristan walked over and hauled the unruly teen out of the water. The other guard stood at the opposite end of the pool waving the kid’s complaining entourage out.
Tristan made his way back to Nel.
“They were just being kids.”
“Being disrespectful isn’t being a kid. It’s being an ass.” He tucked the strands of hair matted to her face behind her ear. “We don’t tolerate that kind of behavior.”
“We?”
“The Co-op.”
“I thought the Co-op was a group of wolf enthusiasts.”
“No.” Taking Nel’s hand, he led her to the in-pool steps and sat down. Instead of Nel sitting beside him, he positioned her to sit between his legs and encouraged her to lean against his chest. “We strive to give our wolves a safe environment to live in, but we’re really all about family. Community. And we don’t want our juveniles to turn into hoodlums who have no regard for others.”
“I bet you’re the king of the ball at Youth Outreach.” Nel laughed softly and the tinkling sound washed over him in a warm, satisfying shower.
“More like the ballbuster.” He loved the feel of Nel against him, how her head rested beneath his chi
n, her shoulders relaxed against his chest, how his legs molded around her hips and her hands absently stroked his thighs.
“Excusing bad behavior doesn’t help them succeed in a world already stacked against them. Until I met Mason Walker, I was just like the kids I work with. No parental involvement, no positive role models. I had no one who cared, no one to show me a better way.”
“Was Mason a volunteer at the Outreach?”
“No, he was the kid who found me after I fell from a rock and cracked my skull.”
“Is that how you lost your vision?”
Tristan nodded. “Jaxen was there when it happened, but he ran off.”
Nel stilled. “To get help?”
“So he says.” Tristan held a breath in his chest and let it out slowly. “But he didn’t. I would’ve died if Mason hadn’t come along.”
“Tristan, how awful.” Nel twisted around, her gaze peering deep into his soul. “How old were you?”
“Fifteen.” Two years older, Jaxen could’ve been legally charged by human law enforcement, had anyone figured out the truth. Then the Woelfesenat would’ve become involved, adding another dimension to the overwhelming situation Tristan had faced.
Suffering from dissociative amnesia, he couldn’t actually remember anything that happened that day. Mason had filled in some of the missing details. Practicing his tracking skills, he had followed Tristan’s and Jaxen’s scents through the woods to the large rock they had climbed. They were arguing as Mason approached from a distance. Jaxen kept advancing on Tristan, who kept stepping back.
Realizing what would happen, Mason had bolted toward them. Momentarily losing sight of them as he rounded a huge tree, he didn’t actually see Jaxen push Tristan off the boulder. But, he had watched Jaxen standing over Tristan’s limp body without lifting a finger to help. Then, Jaxen shifted and left Tristan there without even howling a distress call to the sentinels.
The color had drained out of Nel’s face. “How could he leave you there?”
Tristan supposed it was for the same reason Jaxen had pushed him. Despite the amnesia, Tristan knew that was how it happened. Even if the man can’t remember, the wolf never forgets. Ever since that day, Tristan’s inner wolf had considered Jaxen a viable threat.
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