by Marie Mason
“That’s great, sweetheart. Why did you think he was here with you?”
“We were suppose to come here together.”
“To McCall Resort?”
“What?”
“Nothing, just a little inside joke. Now tell me why he didn’t come with you.”
She bowed her head. “Because I caught him in the supply room at the hospital fucking another nurse.”
Logan froze at the hurt in her voice and vowed if he ever saw the other man he’d knock his teeth down his throat without a second thought.
He leaned into her and lifted her chin with his finger. “You know what, beautiful. I’m glad he didn’t come with you.” Not giving himself a chance to second guess if it was too soon to make any sort of move on her, he leaned forward and pressed his lips gently to hers. “I’m damn glad he didn’t come with you, Katie.”
Seeing her hurt was the last thing he ever wanted. But he knew if she had come here with a man, he would have had to use all his control not to put him six feet under.
She was his mate.
As he was bent over her, he checked out her pupils. He was relieved to see they were both equal and reactive. If she had a concussion, it was slight. The most important thing right now was to keep her warm. He’d wake her up and check on her throughout the night. Lord only knew he wasn’t going to get much sleep himself, lying next to her.
He released his hold on her face and straightened to his full height, towering over her. He was encouraged to see that her eyes darted to the front of his body and the slight tent to his towel. At the moment, there wasn’t as much to check out as there had been in the shower when her body had been pressed so close to his. His anger at her ex-boyfriend had burned away his arousal.
“Umm,” she started to talk then licked her lips, drawing his attention to the plush full bottom lip.
“What, sweetheart?”
“Why am I wearing a towel?” She fingered the top of the towel and Logan had to admit he wished she’d just loosen the knot and let it fall from her body.
Her voice held a slight quiver and he realized she was regaining full function of her faculties once again. And she was getting scared.
“You had an accident, Katie. I found you out in the snow.”
She shivered as if just the mention of the storm made her cold. “I don’t remember.” She looked up at him, as if he had all the answers. Luckily he did.
“I’m going to dry your hair now.”
“Okay.”
Logan took a comb and gently ran it through her thick hair before picking up the hair dryer from a decorative basket on the shelf. Another added touch from the decorators no doubt. It took him about fifteen minutes, but he finally had her hair dry enough to suit him. She’d sat beneath his touch quietly, but he knew the questions would be coming soon.
“Let’s get you dressed and in bed.”
“Shouldn’t we get undressed to go to bed?”
“Oh, sweetheart, you are going to be the death of me tonight.”
Katie heard the big man standing by her side groan and felt like she was just waking up from a really weird dream. An erotic dream, but weird just the same. The side of her head was hurting and she was starting to shiver uncontrollably.
Not to mention that a man who had stepped right out of her most fantasized fueled dreams was standing right in front of her wearing nothing but a towel. Impressions of smooth tanned flesh popped into her head along with an image of a very aroused man.
“Oh, my God. We weren’t swimming were we? We were—you were—oh, my God, I was in the shower with you!”
“Now don’t panic. I told you, you had a little accident. I found you in the snow.”
“But, but—”
“That’s enough.” Logan didn’t want her getting hysterical before he got her dressed and under the covers. He picked her up and strode back into his bedroom, depositing her by the built in chest of drawers in his walk-in closet. He made sure she could stand on her own before he opened the top drawer and drew out the first soft shirt he found. Opening the next one down, he pulled out a pair of pajama pants. “Can you put this on by yourself?”
When she nodded slowly, he thrust the t-shirt into her hands and walked out of the closet, the pair of pants in one of his hands.
Again, Katie just stood there. Some of the memories from earlier that evening were starting to return. She remembered making it to the cabin Brad had rented—on her dime—and being impressed he’d had such good taste. Then realizing her key didn’t work, the walk around the garage, and after that nothing. Oh, wait. She’d tripped on something under the snow and then nothing. She must have fallen and hit her head.
That in a way explained the dark haired man waiting for her to come out, wearing nothing more than—she shook out the piece of clothing he’d given her—wearing no more than a soft, short sleeved t-shirt.
Realizing the towel she had on was damp and not doing anything for her shivering, she untied it, using the ends to finish drying off. Flashes of other memories flew through her—big strong hands running along her thighs and hips.
You are such a dunce, Katie, she thought to herself. How could she have thought she was wet because she’d been in the swimming pool? She’d been buck naked in a shower with a man who made her wet in a whole different way.
Tugging the shirt over her head, she pulled her hair from the neck and tried to rub away some more of the dampness. Wincing she realized she had a lump the size of a robin’s egg near her left temple. When she was done, she folded up the towel and draped it across the end of the chest of drawers.
Alright. This was it. No more putting it off. She had to face the man outside sometime. Face the man who had seen her, touched her. And in all probability, judged her curvy body. And her damn goofy behavior.
Touching her temple again, she reasoned she couldn’t be held entirely accountable for her behavior. She had received some type of blow to the head. That could make anyone’s behavior loopy.
Loopy, huh. Loopy was adding salt to your coffee because you weren’t paying attention, not standing under a spray of hot water in the arms of a gorgeous man thinking you were having a swimming lesson. That wasn’t loopy.
That was every woman’s fantasy come true.
Taking a deep breath, she walked out of the closet to find him turning down the bed. He was dressed in a pair of pajama bottoms that outlined his ass to perfection.
“Come here,” he ordered and her first instinct was to obey instantly. His voice was deep and smooth and made a woman want to fall to her knees—for a lot of different reasons. The image of an aroused cock floated through her mind. Damn it, what had she missed during that shower?
“I’m still not sure what happened.” She let herself smile just a little. If he’d been a woman, she would have said he sighed in exasperation. As it was, he sounded like he sighed in annoyance. Same emotion, different sexes.
“Come here, please.”
Oh, now that that had her toes curling. And her legs obeying him.
Damn, betraying legs.
She stopped when she was in front of him—a safe three feet away. Another sound and she was being yanked forward, onto his lap as he sat down on the edge of the bed.
“I want you to know that nothing happened. And that I would never do anything to harm you. Ever.”
For some unfathomable reason, Katie believed him. He pulled her closer and she allowed herself to melt into him just a little bit more.
“You apparently came to the wrong house, attempted to get inside and fell down and hit your head.”
“Straight into the rabbit hole it would seem.”
He smiled. A set of even white teeth that reminded her of the wolf in Little Red Riding Hood.
Then it hit her what was so different about this man. “You’re a shifter, aren’t you?” One of her small hands flew to her mouth as if she had offended him and wanted to take back the words.
Logan didn’t take offense, even tho
ugh she looked as if she was having visions of him eating her. Which he was. Just not in the way she probably was. No, he was thinking of spreading her round legs and exposing her pussy, of letting his wolf take over and really eating her out.
Oh, yeah, his wolf agreed with him, growling.
“I am. I’m a wolf shifter. Now tell me about yourself Katie. What’s your last name?”
Katie looked at him a little suspiciously. “Why do you want to know?”
“My mother told me to ask you questions about your life. You have a concussion.”
“You called your mother and asked her how to take care of me?” Katie had to admit her insides melted just a little at this confession. For a man who appeared so in control to call his mother and ask advice on how to treat a hyperthermia and possible concussion victim was sweet. It meant he wasn’t as prideful as some men she knew who would let you bleed to death before they’d ask for help.
Yes. She was talking about Brad. As the weeks had gone by, she’d discovered he wasn’t as kind and caring as he’d appeared that night in the ER. Not for the first time since she’d left Chicago, Katie thought maybe the nurse in the supply closet had done her a favor.
“I didn’t want to do something that would make your condition worse.”
His arms tightened around her again and that made her realize she was sitting on his lap dressed in nothing but a t-shirt that barely covered her rounded bottom. Nothing else. No underwear. It also made her realize that the only thing separating his cock from her pussy was his thin knit pajama pants.
“Plus, it would be nice to know a little something about the woman I’m about to go to bed with.”
“What?”
Did she sound like a parrot or what tonight?
“You’re still cold. We need to get your core temperature up. The fastest way is to share body heat.” He paused a moment, for dramatic effect she had no doubt. “At least that’s what my mother said.”
Katie was glad that with each passing moment she was feeling more and more like her old self. Yes, she was still colder than she’d ever been in her life, and her head ached like a bitch, but her senses weren’t as foggy. More and more details about the last twelve hours were coming back to her.
As she looked down into his brown eyes, as innocent looking as a puppy’s could ever be, she realized she’d have to have all her wits about her to deal with this man. She’d bet every last one of the hard earned dollars in her bank account that he hadn’t been innocent since he was seventeen. Maybe sixteen.
“I’m sure I’ll be fine by myself.” She looked around and realized this had to be the master bedroom. It was too large not to be. “If you’ll point me to the couch, I’ll leave you alone.”
“Not happening, sweetheart.”
“My name is Katie, remember.” She’d rather be thought of as a stuck up prude then admit what his casual endearments did to her. Like making her tingle in all her naughty parts. “You never did tell me your name.”
He acknowledged her request with a nod of his head. “Logan McCall. Now, please come to bed with me.”
Talk about making a woman tingle, she thought, feeling herself become woozy at his words. Who would turn down that kind of invitation?
Wait, what had he said? He was Logan McCall? The Logan McCall? Chicago Bachelor of the Year for three years running? She blamed her fuzzy memory for not recognizing him earlier. And the fact that he looked nothing like he had on the magazine cover she’d seen months ago. He’d been dressed in a suit and tie that probably cost more than what she made in a year. Tonight his dark hair was damp and uncombed and his knit bottoms could have been bought off the rack at Wal-Mart.
Oh, no, there was no way Katie was getting her heart broken—or even a little dinged—by spending the night in Logan McCall’s bed, even if it was strictly platonic. She had a feeling her body wouldn’t recognize that little distinction.
She jumped from his lap, taking him by surprise because he let her go without trying to restrain her. “I need to sleep on the couch.”
The room started to spin and she heard him say a curse word that would have gotten his mouth washed out with soap at her house.
He caught her to him. “I really think the best thing for you to do is get into the bed.”
The feel of his big body and the sound of that velvet smooth voice made her want to mindlessly obey him and forget all the stories she’d heard about his philandering ways. He was dangerous. She knew that.
“I don’t have a concussion.”
“And how would you know that?”
“Because I’m a nurse.”
“Cool,” he smiled down at her. “So is my mother. Or she was.”
“That’s nice.” This was the most bizarre conversation she’d ever had in her life. She was standing in the arms of a complete stranger, wearing his oversized t-shirt and nothing else. Is this what awkward morning-afters were like? She’d never had one. She’d had sex. But not a morning after. Just a quick fumble or two on her twin-sized bed in college. The boy had left her dorm room faster than a duck could grab a June bug in July.
“Let’s get you under the covers.”
“No, I told you—” Her protest went unnoticed and before she knew it, one arm lifted her beneath her knees and she was in the bed, covered up with a silk comforter.
To her surprise, he laid next to her—on top of the covers. He faced her with one arm propped under his head, his long legs crossed at the ankles. Dear heavens, he looked like he was about to do a shoot for Playgirl.
“I’m an honorable man, Katie Who-won’t-give-me-her-last-name.”
She blushed knowing it would be foolish to even try and lie. Logan McCall was certainly not a nut job that would follow her home and start stalking her. “It’s Wilson.”
“Where do you work Katie Wilson?”
Katie told him the name of the hospital and relaxed against the soft down pillow. Their conversation was no different from one they might have had at a bar on a Friday night. They’d just skipped ahead to the going to bed part. She giggled.
A frown appeared on his forehead and she had an irresistible urge to smooth it away. She realized he must be thinking she was going off the deep end again. “I’m fine Logan,” she reassured him.
“Good.” Just then, a phone vibrated on the nightstand and Logan turned over to grab it. It was obviously a text and he took a moment to answer, smiling as he did so.
Probably a goodnight sex-text from his latest girlfriend. Her mood disintegrated quickly.
“Well, that’s one brother accounted for.”
“How many brothers do you have?” It was a natural question to ask even though Katie thought she knew the answer. The McCall family was considered royalty in some Chicago social circles. What little she did know about the family she’d gleaned from gossip magazines left around the locker room and lounge areas at the hospital or eavesdropping when other nurses talked about the McCall family.
“Two brothers, one sister. She has two daughters and a son. Do you want to see a picture?” He grinned and she could see the pride and love he had for his family. Oh, man, was he just too good to be true or what? He rescued damsels in distress and appeared generally concerned about his family.
“I’d love to.” She could imagine him in the role of doting uncle—or father. She was surprised there was a tinge of anger riding the sadness of the thought of him having children someday.
He swiped his phone a couple of times, then handed her the screen. Two dark haired girls and a lightheaded boy smiled up at her. She could tell the girls took after their uncle. If she wasn’t mistaken Logan’s sister was married to a lion shifter which explained the blonde headed boy.
“They’re beautiful.”
“I’ll be sure and tell my brother-in-law you called his son beautiful.”
She rolled her eyes. “You know what I meant.”
“I do.” He held up the phone. “Do you mind if I call my other brother?”
“No, of course not.”
He sat on the edge of the bed while he made his call. She wondered if she should offer to leave, but decided that was silly. If he had wanted privacy, he would have left the room. He’d basically ordered her to bed. His bed.
The shiver that traveled through her body had absolutely nothing to do with her earlier exposure to the snow and cold.
She unabashedly listened to Logan’s side of the conversation, stiffening when he asked for some woman’s phone number. That gave her common sense a swift kick in the pants.
When he ended the conversation, she asked, “Do you mind if I use that?”
“Are you going to call Brad?”
Her heart fluttered at the anger in his voice as he asked the question. Should she lie and say she was?
“I can go get your phone if you need it.”
Again, he spoke in that jaw-clenched, tight tone that made her think he was jealous. And what that thought did to her body.
“No, I’m going to call my friend.” She had promised Rachel she would call when she made it to the cabin. She’d seen Katie storm out of the supply room and had been one of the few people who had known about her weekend plans. She left a quick message on her friend’s phone.
For a moment, she wondered if the whole hospital knew about Brad’s little indiscretion. Thankfully, the thought of Brad left her more angry than upset. She’d known even before she’d caught him boffing the nurse—was it strange that she didn’t even care who it had been?—that the relationship was going nowhere, but still…
No woman likes to be dumped. “Do you think maybe we could go to bed now?”
“Honey, I thought you’d never ask.” Again that fantastic grin that made a woman what to buy whatever he was selling—whether it was good for her or not.
Katie turned over onto her side away from him and waited for him to turn off the lights and get under the covers with her. She didn’t think she could face that wide expanse of tanned skin without doing something foolish like sticking out her tongue and licking it, inch by inch.
One moment she was on the verge of shivering again and the next, a wall of heat was at her back. He’d kept a respectable distance between them. She didn’t know whether to be happy or sad at his gentlemanly ways. Then she gasped when a large hand covered the side of her hip and he pulled her unresisting body against his. “Go to sleep, Katie, I’ll take care of you.”
