HannasHaven

by Lorna Jean Roberts

  “Leave?” She frowned, confused. Then it hit her. He thought she might have thrown the clock through the window in an attempt to escape.

  “No, not at all.”

  Wolves needed the companionship of a pack. Although her wolf had been more settled these last few weeks than she’d been in years, lately she’d been at peace. Why? Quite by surprise, it became apparent.

  Her wolf considered Marcus to be hers. Her pack.

  Damn, damn, damn. This wasn’t good.

  “Then what happened with the window?” he asked, breaking into her thoughts.

  “I threw the alarm clock and it broke the window. I wasn’t trying to break it though.”

  “So what? You just felt like making time fly?” he asked drily.

  She scrunched up her nose. “I was angry and the clock was the first thing I grabbed. Honestly,” she said when he didn’t say anything.

  He crossed his arms looking a bit uncomfortable. “You were angry at me?”

  “What? No, why?”

  “Because of what happened in the kitchen. You weren’t ready, I pushed you.” There was a note of regret in his voice.

  “No.” It was an easy out for her behavior, but it wasn’t entirely the truth. It wasn’t fair to let him blame himself. “I got scared. I felt so overwhelmed when I, umm…”

  “Came,” he supplied.

  “Right. It, well, I’ve never felt anything like that before. I’m not even sure why I ran, but it wasn’t because of you. You didn’t push me into anything I didn’t want, that I hadn’t been dreaming of. I was angry at myself.”

  “Why?”

  “For acting like a freak.” She opened herself up to him. “For running away. For not being normal.”

  He snorted and sat in the armchair across from her. “Who the hell says you’re not normal?”

  Hanna tilted her head and raised a skeptic eyebrow. “Come on, Marcus. Does a normal person have to check that the door and windows are locked all the time? Does a normal person tap their fingers when they get anxious? Does a normal person have to constantly clean when they feel out of control?”

  “So you do some things to make yourself feel better. Most people do. Rye plots and plans. Cooper fondles Laney. We all have our security blankets.”

  “Only mine are weird and embarrassing,” she muttered.

  He gave her a disapproving scowl. “I don’t like hearing you say that about yourself. You are not weird. Next time I’ll just grab hold of you after you come so you can’t run off.”

  Marcus’ watch beeped. “That will be Rye. Stay in here. I’ll tell you when he’s gone.” He turned and left.

  Hanna drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs. She wondered why he wanted her to stay in his room? It was only Rye. Maybe he wanted to spare her the embarrassment of explaining?

  And what did he mean, next time?

  Marcus didn’t want Hanna around Rye right at that moment. He knew Rye wasn’t the least bit interested in her, and like many females, she seemed nervous around his cold older brother. But Marcus was feeling unsure, on edge and decidedly more possessive since his intimacy with Hanna.

  She looked so right, sitting on his bed, her lips red and swollen, her hair mussed, heat in her eyes.

  He didn’t want Rye around her in that state.

  But he couldn’t have her. It would be unfair of Marcus to try to attach Hanna to him. She deserved some freedom, room to breathe, to decide what she wanted.

  No, he had no right to claim her. From the sounds of things, she’d been controlled, restricted all her life. He wasn’t about to pull her into his life. That was the last thing she needed.

  But he was no damn saint and he wanted her.

  Mine.

  He forced the wolf back, ignoring his possessive cry.

  Not his.

  Shit. The sooner they left such close quarters the better. They both needed some space, maybe then he could dampen his raging desire. Because he knew that the longer they stayed here, the more likely it was that he would sleep with her.

  And just how would he let her go then?

  He met his brother at the door, ushering him in before setting the alarm again. He gathered up the dustpan, brush and bucket. He didn’t want to risk Hanna cleaning up and getting cut.

  Rye cleared off the window frame of the rest of the broken glass. “What the hell happened, Marcus?” he snarled.

  Marcus picked up the bigger pieces of glass and put them in the bucket. “I don’t know. She hasn’t told me yet.”

  “She was trying to escape? What did you do to her?” Rye accused.

  Marcus looked away, knowing it was a sign of guilt. But this was Rye, his older brother, the only person on earth who could make Marcus feel as if he were a naughty little kid.

  Rye growled. “You didn’t. Fuck, Marcus. This is why I chose you for this job. Because I trusted you to keep you fucking mind on your job and your hand off your dick. You need to go. I’ll take over here.”

  “No.” Rage swamped Marcus at the thought. “No. She’s mine.”

  Something akin to pity washed over Rye’s face.

  “You know you can’t keep her. She isn’t the one for you. You need someone strong, someone who will stand up to you, make you feel alive. And Hanna needs to learn to stand for herself—to make her own decisions. She’s feeling grateful, she’s scared, and you can’t take advantage of that.”

  “Fuck you, Rye,” Marcus growled. “I am not taking advantage of her. Suggest it again and you and I will be having more than words.”

  Rye’s brows arched upward, startled.

  “And Hanna is not the weakling you seem to think she is.”

  Rye shook his head and fitted the plywood board over the window. “I don’t think she’s weak. There’s strength inside her, I see it. But Hanna doesn’t, not yet. Sounds like her life has been pretty awful up until now. She now has the chance to change all that. And you can’t stand in her way. She’s grown attached to you. She’ll follow your lead, Marcus. You cannot hold her back just because it’s what you want. That’s too selfish.”

  Marcus stood, throwing the pan and brush down. “Do you think you’re telling me anything I don’t know?” he whispered harshly. “You think I don’t know that I have to let her go. But fuck it, I want her so bad, it’s all I can do to keep my hands off her. You don’t understand.”

  “Don’t I?” Rye ran his hand over his face and looked at the window. “I’ve got the measurement for the glass, I’ll get on it ASAP.”

  He walked over to Marcus and in a rare sign of affection, clapped him on the shoulder. “Let her go, brother. It’s the right thing to do.”

  It wasn’t anything Marcus hadn’t already told himself. Question was, would he be able to do it?

  *

  Being in Marcus’ room, immersed in his earthy, cool scent was an erotic sort of torture. Her nipples were hard, her skin sensitive, tingling.

  Her wolf preened, urging to be set free so she could rub her scent all over him, wanting to touch him, to feel him over her, in her.

  Hanna took a deep breath, trying to slow her raging libido, certain Marcus would know exactly what was happening to her the moment he walked back into his bedroom. How could he not? Her own arousal perfumed the air, as if a damn siren were calling to him.

  Hussy. Hussy. Hussy.

  Marcus stepped into the room. His gaze was instantly drawn to her nipples as he cleared his throat. “Rye just left. He boarded up the window.”

  She climbed off the bed. “Oh, good, I’ll just…” He held up a hand.

  “I don’t want you sleeping in there tonight. It’s not safe enough.”

  Hanna frowned. “Why not? No one can get through the security you have around the house, right?”

  “No security is one hundred percent foolproof. If someone wanted in, they’re going to go for the weakest point of entrance, which at the moment is your bedroom. That’s unacceptable.”

  “So I’
m sleeping on the couch?” she asked.

  “No, you’re sleeping in here.”

  “No, I’m shorter, I should take the couch.”

  “No one is sleeping on the couch. You’re sleeping in here. With me.”

  Marcus turned away as soon as he’d delivered his shocking statement.

  “Where are you going?” she asked.

  “For a run,” he answered. He stopped. Damn. Without turning, he spoke back to her. “You’re coming with me.”

  “No.”

  He half turned, pierced her with his gaze, saw her pale but couldn’t feel guilty. He was angry. Angry that he couldn’t have her—couldn’t show her how desirable she was. All she needed was for someone to show her.

  He wanted that someone to be him.

  “Excuse me?” he asked, aware of how cold his voice had grown. The wolf shone close to the surface, assessing her, watching as she swallowed heavily. Marcus couldn’t rein him in anymore. He needed to run, or else man and wolf were going to take her.

  Long and hard.

  Hot and heavy, until they both lay exhausted.

  “I’m not coming for a run.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  She straightened her shoulders. “Don’t think you can bully me, Marcus. I’m not letting anyone bully me again.”

  Part of him cheered her on. The other part wanted to tie her up and show her what happened when she challenged him. This is exactly why he wasn’t any good for her. She needed space to grow. What she did not need was him smothering her.

  He stalked back, looming over her. When he reached out, she flinched away. That one action pushed back his need, the wolf, as nothing else could.

  “Don’t,” he said gruffly, running his fingers down her cheek. “I would never hit you.”

  She swallowed heavily. “You’re furious.”

  “Doesn’t matter. No matter how angry I am, I won’t hit you. Spank you, certainly. Hit you, never. Now come on, we’re going for a run. I need to let the wolf out and you must need to as well.”

  He grabbed her hand, tugging her forward but she dug her heels in. “I’m not going. I’ll stay here.”

  “No.” She needed to change. Going without changing for a long time could be dangerous.

  “Marcus!” she yelled.

  He turned once more, knew his eyes were pure wolf. Using his most commanding voice, he spoke quietly, calmly. “We’re going for a run. Now.”

  “Okay,” she agreed reluctantly. Then let him pull her out of the house.

  “Did you just threaten to spank me again? What’s with that?” There was no small amount of outrage in her tone.

  Inexplicably, a smile tugged at his mouth. But he wiped his face with an impassive expression when he turned around. “Yes, I did. Turn you on?”

  She gulped. “No.”

  He grinned. “Liar.”

  Her jaw dropped.

  “Now change.”

  Marcus paced in wolf form, waiting for her to appear. She’d insisted on changing out of his eyesight, something the wolf didn’t understand and wouldn’t have allowed. But the man thought differently.

  Finally a small, dark-haired wolf appeared out of the trees. He prowled toward her, sniffing her, snuffling against her warm fur, drawing in her sweet scent. Barking in joy, he took off.

  He had to curtail his stride, slow down so her shorter legs could keep up.

  They ran. They played.

  He jumped back and forth, playful in a way he hadn’t been since he was a pup, spooking up rabbits for her to chase, showing her what a good provider he could be.

  And when she tired, he took immediate action, nudging her around, pointing her home.

  Stubborn little thing wouldn’t move.

  He pushed harder, shifting her with his larger body. She snarled, snapping her sharp teeth at him. Biting her flank in retaliation, he forced her back toward the house, angry that she hadn’t immediately obeyed him.

  Guiding her toward her clothes, he left her with a last growl of warning to stay put.

  Changing quickly, he pulled on the boxers and sweatpants he’d worn earlier.

  Then he waited and waited and still she didn’t appear. He could hear her, smell her, knew she was there but there was little movement.

  “Hanna? You better not be sulking. Hanna?”

  Growing increasingly alarmed, he stalked toward where he’d left her.

  “I’ll be out in a minute,” she called.

  Marcus didn’t like the quaver in her voice. Stepping into the glade, he found her lying facedown, naked, her pale skin gleaming in the sun.

  “Hanna?” Alarmed, he crouched beside her. Her heart beat too fast. She was panting, exhausted.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” she cried. “Leave me alone to dress.”

  “Right. You can’t even move, and you think I’m going to just leave you lying here? Tell me what’s wrong.”

  “Nothing. I’m tired.”

  He ran his hand over her back, trying to ignore her pert little bottom or how silky her skin felt.

  “You’re freezing.” Not a good sign. Werewolves tended to run hot. “Are you sick?”

  “No. Just tired. Please, I need a bit longer and I’ll be fine.”

  “Has this happened before? Does this happen every time you change?” Unsettled, he reached over to grab her t-shirt.

  “Not always this bad. It’s why I don’t change much. It takes so long to recover.”

  “Which is why you didn’t want to go for a run, and why you didn’t want to come back. What were you going to do? Stay as a wolf forever?” Concern sharpened the edge of his tongue. He grasped her gently to turn her over.

  “No! Leave me. I’ll put my own clothes on.”

  “Hanna,” he sighed. “You’re a werewolf. I’ve seen plenty of my packmates naked after a run. You’ve got nothing I haven’t seen before.”

  Liar.

  She whimpered but allowed him to roll her over and slip the t-shirt over her head. The back of his hand brushed against her breast, eliciting a soft gasp from her. Whether his touch had been deliberate or not, even he wasn’t sure.

  He reached for her panties, but she weakly slapped at his hand. “I’ll do it. Turn your back.”

  Growling inwardly, he turned his head but didn’t move away. When she was done, he gathered her up into his arms, ignoring her protests.

  Marcus carried her inside to the bathroom, setting her down on the cabinet. He turned on the taps and sprinkled some scented stuff Laney had brought for Hanna into the water.

  “What are you doing?” Her teeth chattered as she spoke.

  “Running you a bath.”

  “Why?”

  He stared at her. She looked back at him, confused. Then her face blushed.

  “Oh, do I smell? Sorry.”

  “You don’t stink,” he muttered. “No more than I do. You’re freezing, Hanna. You need warming up. Cold Hanna equals warm bath, not rocket science. Now do you need help undressing or can you do it yourself?”

  “I can do it,” she squealed.

  “Good,” he grunted, turning off the taps before leaving.

  Hanna slid off the counter and stripped with slow, sluggish movements, cursing her quivering hands. She was so tired of being weak. She’d always been smaller than everyone else.

  Getting into the bath took far more effort than it should have. But she managed to get herself in without slipping and splashing water everywhere. The hot water soothed her muscles and eased her shivering. She dropped her head back, shutting her eyes and letting the calm scent of lavender relax her. What the hell was wrong with her?

  But she lusted after Marcus. No one had ever affected her like this. She hadn’t let them. Yet she let Marcus touch her. She more than enjoyed his touch. Warmth pooled in her belly. Caused entirely by the brusque werewolf who took care of her in his own rough way.

  “Hanna.” Marcus banged on the door. “Get out, your dinner’s getting cold.�
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  Had he always been so blunt and bad-tempered?

  He was arrogant, bossy, at times talkative, and other times she couldn’t get him to do more than grunt. Yet she always knew where she stood with him. Whatever he said, he meant, and whatever he promised, he did.

  And that was worth more than any soft words or gentle gestures.

  It also helped that he was the sexiest man she’d ever met.

  *

  Hanna dressed in her thickest pajamas, sweating slightly. It wasn’t cold enough to wear the heavy, fleecy night attire, let alone the two t-shirts she wore underneath. But they gave her a needed sense of protection. Not because she was scared or worried Marcus might try something.

  No, she was worried she’d jump on him.

  She’d never felt sexually attracted to anyone. Certainly not Dan. The few times they’d slept together confirmed that. There’d been nothing. Nada. No interest at all.

  With Marcus, it was the complete opposite. She constantly burned. And although she wanted him—Lord, that was an understatement—she knew it would be a mistake. The extra clothing was juvenile. But she’d lost the fight over the sleeping arrangements. He’d simply ended the argument by pulling out a pair of handcuffs and telling her he’d cuff them together if she didn’t do as he’d told her.

  Damn, she got all shivery when he spoke that way. His voice dark, demanding. She should protest his domineering ways. But that was hard to do when that was part of what she found so attractive.

  She had just lost Dan. Even though she hadn’t loved him, he was her mate and she shouldn’t be wanting another so soon. She’d just have to stay strong. Right? Right.

  “Hanna,” Marcus called. “You’ve been in there long enough. You need your rest. I won’t touch you. Well, not unless you ask me to.”

  Her knees weakened at the sensual promise in his voice.

  Taking a deep breath, she found the courage she needed to open the bathroom door and walk into his bedroom. He sat up in bed, his chest bare, showing off his sculpted muscles—smooth, clean, delicious. Hanna slammed her mouth shut.

  The pillows she’d placed down the center of the bed were now behind his back. Marcus peered up from his tablet, his gaze judicious as it wandered over her body. She blushed, swearing she saw his lips twitch. But if he’d been about to smile he quickly managed to get it under control.