by Terry Spear
As if she’d forgotten.
She smiled. “He’s got a job to do. And so do I.” After leaving her snow boots in a locker, she headed for the ski lift as fast as her ski boots would permit.
She’d prefer to check the map and get oriented, but she didn’t have time. She knew that Tom would return for her soon, or that one of the ski patrollers or Tom might see her tear off, and he would be after her.
As an alpha, he couldn’t let her get away with doing her own thing, especially since he’d made his intentions perfectly clear in front of some of the pack members.
One of the human girls waiting to be fitted for ski boots said, “Can’t we get some service now that she’s gone?”
Elizabeth glanced back to see all four of the wolves watching her, grinning. Betas. She smiled and gave them a thumbs-up. They did high fives with each other.
Tom would want to kill her, she thought in an amused way.
She had tried to pretend to be a sweet, innocent beta. She’d blown that image so badly with Tom that there was no sense in pretending any further. Professing to be a beta was nearly impossible for her kind. She’d wrongly assumed he would leave her to her own devices if he thought she was one—alpha that he was—which went to show she really wasn’t all that knowledgeable about working wolf packs. Or at least this one.
She made her way to the ski lift and situated her boots on her skis, but noticed one of the lift operators focused on her while speaking on his radio. As soon as she made eye contact with the guy, she knew. Tom had called ahead. The lift operator signaled to her to move out of the line. She closed her eyes briefly. Man, she’d never seen a wolf pack that controlled an operation like this.
The mix of humans and wolves standing in the lift line watched her, speculation written all over their faces. She had to have done something wrong.
Smiling, the lift operator approached her. “Got word Tom wants to ride up with you, if you’ll just step out of line. He’s coming.”
She didn’t bother arguing with the guy. He was only doing his job. She was certain he’d stop the lift if she ignored him and tried to get on one of the chairs.
She turned to see Tom headed for her while the lift hummed, carrying skiers up the steep incline. At first, she couldn’t read his expression. He was smiling way too smugly.
More amused than annoyed, she smiled back. She just couldn’t let an alpha, any alpha, dictate to her without her showing her true colors, no matter how hard she tried to pretend she was just a cooperative beta.
He took her arm, leaned over, and to her shock, kissed her cheek.
She couldn’t help it. She chuckled. “You are so bad.”
“Yeah, only because you made me do it,” he said. “Come on, Elizabeth. Things are quiet for the moment. I’ll ski with you until I get a call.”
“Made you do it?”
“Hey, I’m just trying to protect you from all the interested males in my pack.”
She laughed. “Right.”
His mouth curved up as he looked down at her, and she thought he had the most heartwarming smile. Too bad he only behaved this way because the pack leader must have ordered him to. But Tom also had something to prove to the wolves in his pack who were waiting to see what would happen next. She noted that two of the lift chairs went up without anyone seated on them.
Two wolves motioned for Tom and Elizabeth to get in line in front of them. She’d never gotten special treatment like this, ever.
She hadn’t wanted to cut in line, but everyone smiled at her, so she figured they would object if she tried to go to the back of the line. She was certain Tom would stop her.
She considered kissing him back, just to prove he wasn’t in charge of her. Which was why she did what she did next, shocking him, she was certain. She grabbed his jacket and looked him in the eye. “I can’t stand on my toes in ski boots, so lean down.”
Dimples showed in his tanned cheeks. He hesitated only a second, as if processing her request. He leaned down and she kissed him full on the mouth. Oh God, his lips were warm and supple against hers. His gloved hands cupped her face. He must have dropped his ski poles to ensure she didn’t move away from him until he finished.
She didn’t want him to end this as he pressed his lips against hers, the pressure saying he wanted more, his thumbs stroking her cheeks, his tongue licking her lips and asking for an invitation.
She’d already gone this far, so why not? She loved what he was doing to her, heating her from the inside out. She opened her mouth just a little and took a breath, not a full invitation unless… he took advantage.
Which he did and she nearly fell off her skis. Oh… my… God. The wolf could kiss. But damn, she could kiss back, too.
Nipping his lips, licking, tasting, chasing his tongue with hers, she gave one last full-contact smooch before she pulled away. She felt light-headed, her breath creating puffs of mist. Smoking.
He stood there and looked at her like she was a wet dream come true. The cheers went up, the woots, the whistles, and she laughed.
Grinning, the ski-lift operator handed Tom his ski poles. “Way to go, Tom.”
When she was seated beside Tom on the chair and had begun the ride up, he shook his head as if he was trying to clear it after what had just happened between them.
“What?” she asked, turning to observe the breathtaking vista. Every tree was covered in white frosting, and the sky was bluebird blue.
He chuckled.
She glanced at him when he didn’t answer. His mouth curved up as he studied her, though with his ski goggles now in place, she couldn’t see his eyes the way she wanted to. He looked really cute and in charge in his red ski-patrol jacket, although she already knew he was a sub-leader and very much in charge.
“What?” she asked again, tilting her head to the side.
“You do realize everyone in the pack was already giving me a hard time. Probably about a quarter of our people are up here today enjoying the fresh powder. Those who did see what just happened will tell those who didn’t. Oh, they won’t say anything, much, to my face. Just the knowing smiles and slaps on the back. But you’ve sure got the pack stirred up, and the word has already spread. I didn’t even have to call Darien to confirm the dinner arrangement. He called me.”
She gaped at him and then frowned. “You said he already wanted me to come to dinner.”
“I know my brother. He would have called before long if I hadn’t gotten hold of him.”
“So will your other brother, Jake, and his mate be there?”
“You bet. When I told Darien that you’re a photographer, he said Jake wanted to meet you.”
“Well, it was all your fault for trying to be in charge of me.”
“About that. Yeah, I’d like to try that again. Someplace where we’re not likely to melt all the snow off the slope.”
She chuckled and looked at the vista as the chair rode up the cable, vibrating, the rattling noise filling the bitingly cold air. She didn’t remember a time when she’d had such lighthearted fun.
Tom’s radio came to life, and he listened as the dispatcher relayed information about an injury on one of the slopes. He answered the call. “I’ll be there in just a couple of minutes.”
“Duty calls?”
“Yeah, but I’m free at noon. We’ll have lunch.”
She smiled. If he could find her.
She still had to meet with North at the Timberline Ski Lodge. That put her on edge a bit. What if North didn’t come alone? Or what if someone else came?
Someone who wished her dead?
Chapter 4
Elizabeth skied away from the chairlift but Tom followed her. “Noon,” he said. “Meet you at the base lodge.”
His comment wasn’t an offer but a command. “You don’t take no for an answer, do you?” She smiled when she asked.
<
br /> He offered her a wolfish, sexy smile in return that had her whole body warming despite the chill in the air. “You never said no. See you later. Enjoy your day if I don’t get a chance to meet up with you on the slopes. A blue trail is off to the left, expert to the right.”
He skied along the connecting trail for the black-diamond slope.
You never said no, echoed in her thoughts. Yeah, if she hadn’t really wanted to meet up with him, she would have been all alpha and said no. He had her figured.
She watched him move like a pro and wished she could ski down the expert trail with confidence. She didn’t get a chance to ski nearly as often as she’d like, since they had no skiing in Texas. But she loved the slopes and took every opportunity she could get to ski. She was definitely an intermediate skier.
She was about to head for the intermediate slope when two males on the chairlift got off and joined her.
“Need a ski buddy?” one asked, looking hopeful. He was a blond and reminded her of a Viking, muscled and with beautiful white teeth grinning at her.
“He’s busy, but I’m free,” the other said, looking like the first one’s twin.
She chuckled. “I’m mostly just taking pictures. Sorry.”
“Well, if you get tired of just taking pictures, I’m Cantrell.”
“Robert,” the other man said.
“You’re brothers, I take it.” And both gray wolves.
“Yeah. Kind of no mistaking it,” Robert said with a wink.
“Thanks. Maybe I can take you up on it later. Nice meeting you both.” She took off toward the entrance to the blue intermediate trail.
“Wait!” Cantrell said, catching up to her. “What’s your name?”
She paused at the top of the trail. “Elizabeth.”
“Elizabeth,” Robert said. “Have you got lunch plans?”
“Yes, with Tom Silver.”
Cantrell laughed. “I told you he’d already asked her.”
“What about tonight?” Robert asked.
“I’m having dinner with the pack leaders.”
“Uh, okay,” Cantrell said as if that meant she planned to join the pack or something. “Well, we tried. See you around, Elizabeth.” He headed downhill.
Robert smiled. “They always get the good ones.” He followed his brother down the slope.
Elizabeth shook her head. She really couldn’t believe all the interest, especially after what she’d gone through growing up—physical and emotional abuse from her father’s wolf family for being part coyote. Shunned by her mother’s coyote pack for having wolf DNA. And here she was totally welcome. Maybe because Tom seemed interested in her.
She stood to the side so other skiers could access the trail and pulled out her camera. She snapped shots of the two men traversing the hill, then of the vista. She breathed in the cold, crisp air, loving it, wanting to throw off her clothes, shift, and run through the woods, biting at the snow, rolling in it, having the time of her life.
Tonight she would.
She skied down to another intermediate run and across an easy trail where a couple of patrollers, Tom included, checked out a young girl of about eight. She sat on the snow holding her knee and crying. Tom crouched next to her, talking to her as she nodded. Elizabeth hoped the girl wasn’t too badly injured, but the sight of him speaking to her made Elizabeth believe he’d be good with kids. She wondered if the rest of the pack was like that. The two she had belonged to—as in had family ties to but hadn’t really belonged to—had been. They just hadn’t treated her that way.
She’d always thought of her parents as Romeo and Juliet—Romeo, the red wolf, and Juliet, the coyote—two different families, both feuding. In the end, both her parents had died. Which meant she’d had to fend for herself against the wolves of her father’s pack. The coyote pack hadn’t wanted her, either, since she was an alpha and part wolf. The pack leaders had feared she’d want to take over.
She was a pariah, worse than an omega, a wolf that was pushed from the pack, picked on, and left to grab scraps everyone else had left behind.
Except for one thing. She was an alpha. They couldn’t beat that out of her, no matter how much they had tried. Alpha wolves were born with the take-charge tendency whether they were lupus garous or strictly wolves or even humans. Not all alphas formed their own packs. Some became loners and others sub-leaders of a pack, ready to take over if the pack leader died. Not that she would ever face such a situation.
After capturing Tom and the little girl with her camera, Elizabeth moved toward the lodge. She took several pictures of the building, with its steep alpine roof and log sides and a large veranda where visitors sat at tables enjoying hot drinks. The heat of the drinks mixed with the air, causing steam to rise above their cups. She captured photos of people waiting on the lift line and of some coming down the gently sloping bunny trail.
She snapped a shot of a teen wearing a gray-wolf ski hat who headed straight for her. He whipped around her, grinning, and skidded to a halt next to her. “Tom’s girl, right?”
Before she could respond, he laughed and took off for the ski lift. She smiled. If her pack had treated her like that, she would never have left.
She snapped a couple more pictures—one of a man hitting a hill of soft powder, causing it to fly everywhere. If the day remained sunny, this afternoon she’d take a break from photographing and just ski. Well, after she got what she needed from North, she thought, wishing again that he had taken the evidence he had on her uncle straight to the red wolf pack’s new leader, Hrothgar. North wouldn’t, saying that it was her issue to deal with. Elizabeth didn’t disagree, but she didn’t want to get that close to the pack.
She thought maybe that afternoon she’d take some pictures when the sun wasn’t as intense. When she was done, she’d try to contact Hrothgar and arrange to meet with him to transfer the evidence herself. Hopefully, he wouldn’t mind making the seven-hour trip here.
She was still irritated with North. He had waited a long time before telling her he had solid evidence against her uncle. He could also have informed her that the red pack had a new leader who might consider the evidence and right the wrongs. Then again, Hrothgar might not do anything more with it than Bruin would have.
Shaking loose of her frustration, she proceeded toward the lift. She felt someone hurrying behind her, but he didn’t pass her. She glanced at him as he got in line next to her for the double chairs. He didn’t look at her, which told her he wasn’t trying to meet up with the new she-wolf on the slopes. He was covered in cold-weather clothes, ski hat, and goggles, so she couldn’t make out what he looked like. She tried to smell him, but the wind blew the wrong way so she couldn’t tell if he was a wolf or a man.
He sat to her right as they took the lift up, and Elizabeth caught sight of a lovely vista beyond the man’s head. She thought to come this way again, sit on his side of the chairlift, and have her camera ready.
Then the man turned and stared at her. Blatantly. She’d been looking in his direction—at the view, not at him. Maybe he thought she stared at him. If he were a wolf, he’d definitely be an alpha because he wouldn’t look away from her, trying to force her to glance away in submission.
She didn’t need to prove anything to him. Not the way she’d had to with her former wolf pack. But the instinct was built in, and the repeated abuse she’d suffered for being who she was had made her toughen against such people. She wasn’t looking away first.
She didn’t want to have anything to do with him, but she finally smiled and said, “Nice day for skiing. Are you local?”
The man wore a black balaclava over his mouth and nose, but Elizabeth could tell from a glimpse of his cold eyes that he glowered before he looked away without answering her. Having won the confrontation, she smiled to herself. She snapped pictures of people skiing down the slope from the lift’s bird’s-eye view.
She took a picture of the chairs behind her. Never knowing what shot might really look cool in a story, she would take hundreds while she was here. She tucked her camera away in her pouch before she reached the end of the ride.
This time when she got off the chair, she would head for the expert slope to take some shots of the moguls and skiers traversing them on the way down. After she finished there, she’d ski back across the trail to the intermediate slope. She would find another lift to take her up to some other trails later.
The man got off the chair and she followed him, moving off to the side so the next passengers could leave the lift. She waited to see which trail he went on. Expert. Super. Not.
Then again, he’d ski down it quickly and be gone. She could even take some shots of him and see if he did a great job or was just an egomaniac and crashed and burned, nearly killing himself on the way down.
Smiling darkly with that thought in mind, she skied toward the black-diamond slope. When she reached it, she made sure she was out of any skier’s way. She pulled her camera out and took a picture of the man. He’d stopped halfway down the trail, resting his skis on top of a mogul. Not such a hotshot after all.
He turned and looked up. Not expecting to be caught photographing him, she quickly raised her camera to take a picture of the pines separating this trail from the intermediate one.
She heard a skier coming from behind her, the swoosh of skis against snow. Elizabeth’s skis crunched into the semipacked powder as she inched over just a little more to get out of the way. Trees blocked her from moving over any farther.
The skier—had to be a man, as hefty as he was—slammed into her, knocking her down the steep incline.
Heart in her throat, she cried out. She lost her camera on impact. Fell. With her ski poles looped around her wrists, she threw her gloved hands out, trying to stop herself. The shove made her topple onto her side, crashing into the first of the moguls that didn’t slow her fall.
Elizabeth continued to tumble down the slope. She feared smashing her head against the compacted snow and breaking limbs—her own, not the trees’. Briefly, she fretted about her camera, finding it, concerned it might be ruined. Even the worry about a spinal injury flashed through her mind as she continued the downward plunge.
