Wolf in Her Bed

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Wolf in Her Bed Page 11

by N. J. Walters


  Anny cleared her throat. “I’m Anny.”

  “Yeah, I got that.” Gator filled the kettle and plugged it in. The he filled the coffeepot with water and pulled out the beans to grind.

  “Anny.” Armand drew her attention back to him just as Cole ended his call and came and sat on one of the sofas.

  “They’ll be here in a few minutes. Gwen just got out of the shower.”

  Anny didn’t ask, but he volunteered the information. “Gwen is Jacque’s ma—wife.”

  “Oh.” Anny twined her fingers together. She looked lost and alone and it hurt Armand’s heart. He didn’t know what to say to her, especially not with such an avid audience. Cole sat on the sofa, making no pretense that he wasn’t watching Anny. And Gator was no better. He kept one eye on her as he worked in the kitchen.

  An uneasy silence filled the room, along with the snap and crackle of the fire and the hiss of the coffeepot. The deep aroma of coffee filled the space. It was homey, except for the tension gripping all of them.

  A short while later, the front door opened and Jacque stepped in. Gwen was directly behind him and Louis brought up the rear. The alpha’s gaze went straight for Anny. Armand stood and stepped in front of her, letting his cousin know that Anny was under his protection.

  Jacque raised one eyebrow in question, but Armand only shook his head. Gwen pushed past her large husband and strode into the room, heading straight toward Anny. “Hi, I’m Gwen.”

  Anny pushed to her feet. “Anny Conrad.” The women shook hands and Armand took over the introductions.

  “This is Jacque LaForge and his brother, Louis.”

  Anny stiffened slightly but managed to nod. “Nice to meet you.”

  Jacque returned her nod and then faced Armand. “Want to tell me what this is all about?”

  “Coffee is served.” Gator swept into the room with a tray loaded down with cups of coffee and one hot chocolate. He also had cream and sugar on the tray, as well as a plate of cookies.

  “This is not a damn social, Gator,” Jacque told the other man.

  Gator just shrugged. “No need to be inhospitable. Anny is the woman from the club.”

  All eyes turned toward Anny, and she shrank back into the chair before straightening her spine. Armand sat on the arm of her chair and put his arm over the back of it. With his free hand, he took one of Anny’s just to let her know she wasn’t alone.

  What had she gotten herself into? Anny glanced around the room, afraid to look at any of the men for too long. They were all big, all muscular and there was a feral quality about all of them that she recognized now.

  Fear, she realized, had a taste. Metallic and ugly, it coated her tongue and made her stomach tighten. But she’d come here for answers and she wasn’t leaving without them.

  Gator handed her a mug of hot chocolate and she nodded her thanks. The warmth from the mug helped take the chill from her skin. Of course, having a crackling fire on one side and Armand on the other didn’t hurt either.

  Jacque LaForge was obviously the leader of this group. They all looked to him and he was the one Cole had called.

  Jacque leaned back on the sofa with a mug of coffee in one hand and the other one absently stroking his wife’s leg. Anny wasn’t even sure he realized he was touching his wife. It seemed as natural to him as breathing.

  “So what’s this all about?” Jacque took a sip of coffee and waited.

  “Anny?” Armand stroked her hair, and she briefly closed her eyes and took a deep breath. He might be kind to her now, but there was no denying he hadn’t exactly been thrilled to see her here. So be it. She’d get her answers and get out. He didn’t owe her anything. They’d had sex, nothing more.

  Still, it hurt.

  She opened her eyes and focused on Gwen. The woman seemed kind and not as dangerous as the men. “I put laundry on last Saturday morning and decided to go for a walk down to the small stream at the back of my property. A friend was coming later that morning and bringing her little boy with her. I thought we might take him down there to play, maybe have a picnic lunch.”

  She took a sip of the hot chocolate, letting it warm her chilled insides, praying it would help calm her jittery nerves. “I love walking there. It’s so peaceful.” Anny wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to go back there again. Her sense of safety had been shattered.

  “It got quiet all of a sudden,” she continued. “Too quiet. I knew there was something out there. Something big. I thought maybe a black bear or a cougar. It’s rare, but we do see them. I started back to the house.”

  She stopped, remembered fear almost paralyzing her.

  Armand rubbed her shoulder. “It’s okay, Anny. You’re safe here.”

  She wasn’t so certain about that, but it was too late to do anything about it now. It occurred to her that no one knew she was here. Not exactly smart, but she hadn’t really thought things through. All she’d wanted was to see Armand and get answers.

  “What was it, Anny? What did you see?” Gwen asked the question, but Anny had a feeling all of them already knew her answer.

  “A wolf. An incredibly big wolf. He was too big to be real, yet he was.” She swallowed back the lump of fear that threatened to choke her. Her hand automatically went to her throat. “I picked up a fallen branch. It wasn’t much of a weapon, but it was all I had.”

  Armand growled, the sound deep and downright scary. Her gaze flew to his and she swallowed hard again. His eyes were glowing, reflecting the firelight. Gator and Louis both swore. Cole and Jacque got still and quiet.

  “What happened then?” Armand’s voice was low and guttural.

  “I thought it might leave me alone. I started backing away slowly. I was able to move around it and almost made it to the house.”

  “The wolf was toying with you.” There was no inflection in Jacque’s voice. He was simply matter-of-fact about the whole thing.

  “Yes.” She kept her answer clipped and her voice steady when all she wanted to do was curl into a ball and cry. Her world had been shattered, and she feared it was broken beyond repair, that she was broken.

  “I tried to fight it, but it was no use.” She closed her eyes and flinched when Armand touched her. He shifted away from her and she almost cried out for him to come back, but she stiffened her spine. Armand was part of this group. And whatever they were, they weren’t fully human. She didn’t expect him to take her side over theirs.

  Anny pushed out of the chair and walked closer the fireplace. The warmth felt good against her skin. She felt so cold in spite of the fact she was still wearing her sweater. She set her mug down on the mantle and faced them.

  “Look, I don’t know what you are and I don’t care.” The tension ratcheted up another notch, and Jacque came to his feet in a fluid motion. “But I was attacked and mauled by a wolf. Left for dead.”

  Gwen gasped and paled. Immediately, her husband turned toward her, pulled her off the sofa and into his arms.

  Anny envied the woman. Jacque obviously loved his wife. She glanced at Armand. He had his arms crossed over his chest. His face was blank of all expression. No love in his gaze, only pure fury. Was he angry at her? Well, screw him. She needed answers.

  Anger pushed out all remnants of her fear. “Oh yeah, and as I lay there bleeding, the wolf morphed into a man.” She faced Armand. “And that man said, ‘You stink of him’.”

  Anny paused. “The only him I could stink of was Armand. I hadn’t changed the pillowcase you’d slept on the night we had sex.” She intentionally used the cruder word. It seemed appropriate. “I’d made the stupid mistake of smelling it one more time that morning before I tossed it into the washing machine.”

  She took a deep breath and finished her story. “Luckily my friend found me before I bled out. They airlifted me to the hospital and I had a raging fever and infection. Technically, I died for a minute or so.” She held her arms out by her side. “But here I am. My vision is keener, my hearing and sense of smell more acute, but what I rea
lly want to know is can I expect a repeat visit from the creature that did this to me? What did he do to me?”

  The room was silent for all of two seconds and then Armand leapt toward her. She threw up her hands to ward him off, but he pulled at the neck of her sweater. “Let me see.”

  Resigned to the inevitable, she let him tug her cardigan off. He tossed it onto the chair. He reached for the bandage and hesitated.

  “It’s okay,” she told him. “It’s healing fast.”

  He carefully peeled the edge of the bandage away and then off. He tossed the bandage aside and tugged the edge of her shirt down to expose her shoulder. The scars went all the way down her neck and continued beneath the collar of her top. He leaned down and sniffed her skin. The action sent goose bumps running down her arm.

  “What did he look like, the man who attacked you?”

  Anny described him as best she could. “I was bleeding heavily after the wolf attack. At first, I thought I might be hallucinating.”

  “That’s okay, Anny. What do you remember?” Armand prompted.

  “He had black hair and cruel eyes. He was a big, brutish man.” She tried her best to describe him, but her memories were disjointed. Armand stiffened and then took a deep breath. The others remained quietly observing. She felt as though she were under a microscope, every word, every action being measured and judged.

  “Is it just your neck?” Armand sounded hoarse and seemed extremely upset.

  She shook her head. “No, there are more.” She eased away from him and lifted her shirt to expose her stomach. The scars were still reddish but looked weeks old instead of days old.

  Armand dropped to his knees in front of her and buried his face against her stomach. His lips grazed the scars. He was kissing them. In front of everyone. Shock held her immobile.

  Anny looked at the other people in the room, wondering what their reaction would be. She didn’t know what to expect. The men seemed angry and Gwen seemed upset. Well, who wouldn’t be angry and upset? The entire situation was ugly and she’d brought it right to their door.

  She tugged her shirt down, forcing Armand to move back. “I should go.” She should never have come. It was a stupid thing to do. She should have called Armand. Surely she could have found his phone number somehow. Or maybe she just should have stayed away and handled everything on her own.

  Anny inched closer to the chair, grabbed her cardigan and held it in front of her like a shield. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come.”

  She made it as far as the door before Armand stopped her. He wrapped his arms around her from behind and pulled her tight against his body. It felt so good to be held by him. Too good. She couldn’t depend on anyone but herself. He’d made that abundantly clear from the beginning. They’d had a one-night stand. Nothing more.

  “I’m so sorry, Anny, but you aren’t going anywhere.”

  Real fear swept over her. She hadn’t for one minute expected that Armand wouldn’t let her go. Would he hurt her? As soon as she had the thought, she dismissed it. If there was one thing in her crazy, mixed-up world she was sure of, it was that Armand wouldn’t physically hurt her.

  Call her nuts, but she believed that to the depths of her soul.

  “Why?” She was still facing the door. So close to escape, but so far.

  Armand turned her until there was nowhere else to look but at him. She stared at his broad chest first. It was covered by a dark-brown T-shirt. She’d tried not to notice how ruggedly handsome he’d looked early. But now there was no denying it.

  He said nothing, so she moved her gaze upward and met his eyes. They were dark as expensive, sinful chocolate and they were filled with sadness.

  He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her forehead. She was truly getting scared now. His gentle actions had her tensing, expecting the worst.

  “I know who did this to you.”

  Of all the things he could have said, that was the one she’d least expected. “Who?” She had to know.

  “My father.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Armand wanted to tear off his clothes, shift and race through the woods, howling with anger. Then he wanted to track down his father—not that he’d ever been a real father, more of a sperm donor really—and then he wanted to kill him.

  He’d known Remy was a cruel bastard when he gave his only daughter to be mated to a wolf he knew would abuse and probably kill her. But this was somehow even worse, because Anny was Armand’s mate.

  Remy LaForge had to die.

  Anny shivered. He still couldn’t believe she was alive and in his arms. She’d lived through the conversion, which was practically unheard of. But more than that, she’d done it on her own.

  Armand wanted to drop to his knees and give thanks that Anny was alive, while at the same time he wanted to rage at the idea of her being alone while she’d fought for her life.

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.” Small compensation, but he wanted her to know he cared.

  “Why would you have been?” Her genuine confusion cut him like a knife. “I knew what we had was a one-night stand. It was sex, nothing more.”

  Armand wondered if his chest had been ripped open to expose his bleeding heart. It certainly felt like it. Anny really had no idea what she meant to him. He’d done too good a job of convincing her all they’d had together was sex. He’d meant to protect her, but she’d ended up hurt, not only by him, but by Remy as well.

  He glanced toward his packmates, all making no pretense that they weren’t watching every move he and Anny made, listening to every word. Jacque and Gwen both appeared concerned. The other three men were angry at what had been done to Anny.

  “You need to come back and sit down so we can talk.” What he really wanted to do was sweep her into his arms, carry her to his room and strip her naked so he could check all her injuries.

  Anny took a step away from him. “What’s to discuss? You know what happened. Unless you can tell me what to expect from the person who did this, we have nothing to talk about.”

  Gwen came over, put her hand on Armand’s arm and gave it a gentle squeeze. In sympathy or as a warning, he wasn’t sure. But he was grateful for her presence. “Why don’t you come back and sit down. There is a lot more you need to know.” Gwen glanced at Gator. “The cookies are gone. Do you have a coffee cake or something in the kitchen that will go with the coffee?”

  Gator jumped to his feet. “I’m on it.”

  Armand relaxed slightly when Anny allowed Gwen to lead her back into the room. Anny slid back into her seat by the fireplace and he took up his post beside her. She slipped her cardigan back on and wrapped her arms around her torso. She looked so small and fragile huddled there.

  But looks were misleading. Anny had a backbone of steel and a strong will. She had to in order to have survived the conversion. Armand still couldn’t wrap his head around that. He knew how deadly, how painful it was for a person who’d been bitten by a werewolf. In all his life, he’d known only one other person who’d survived such a bite. Now Anny made two.

  Why?

  What made her so special that she had lived where many others, including strong men had died fighting to survive a werewolf bite?

  Anny ignored the men and focused her attention on Gwen. “You said there was more I needed to know?”

  Gwen nodded and pushed a hand through her short blonde hair. She was obviously agitated. Jacque put his arm around her and pulled his mate against his body. “Where to begin?”

  “At the beginning.” Anny sat forward. “That creature was a werewolf, right?”

  Gwen nodded. “I used to write articles about the paranormal for magazines and eZines. I met all kinds of people in my research, but I never really believed in any of it.” She paused and smiled at Jacque. “And then I met these guys.”

  Anny’s gaze wandered around the room, taking in every man there. “And they’re werewolves, like the creature that attacked me?”

  Armand jumped
to his feet and growled. “No, not like them. They’re fucking animals.”

  “Armand.” There was a wealth of warning in Gwen’s voice. He knew he was frightening Anny. He could smell her rising fear.

  But he couldn’t contain himself any longer. He lifted her out of her chair and sat down with her in his arms. He buried his face in the curve of her neck and inhaled her unique floral scent.

  His wolf calmed and it was only then he realized she was stiff as a board in his embrace. “Anny?”

  Then he looked at what he’d done from her perspective. He’d grabbed her and lunged at her neck.

  He leaned back and cupped her face in his hands. “Oh, chère. I’m so sorry. That had to have reminded you of the attack. I would never hurt you.” He kissed her forehead and cheeks. She was so pale. So unnaturally calm.

  She gave a bone-deep shudder and lunged at him, wrapping her arms around his neck. A low cry broke from her throat. The sound brought tears to his eyes. He hugged her to him. “It’s okay, Anny. I’ve got you.” He rubbed his face over her head, wanting to imprint every texture, every scent of her body onto himself. “You’re not alone. Not anymore.”

  Gator returned to the living room with a coffee cake on a large plate. He’d cut it into pieces so there was enough for everyone.

  Armand was very aware of being watched. He was also aware of Anny’s weight in his lap, her breasts plastered against his chest, the warmth of her skin and the moist heat of her breath against his neck. His cock jumped to attention and inside him his wolf howled with pleasure at having his mate back where she belonged.

  He wanted Anny naked and under him, and he wanted it now. It wasn’t easy to control his more primal nature, but he did, for her. She needed comfort and answers now, not sex.

  But later…

  “You should eat something,” he whispered in her ear. The others could hear him, but he tried to keep an illusion of intimacy between them. “I bet you haven’t eaten much at all since you were attacked.” He stroked a strand of brown hair out of her face. She peered up at him, her blue eyes luminous with unshed tears.

 

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