Teo reached for his coffee finally. He always drank it cold. “Aileen says Mala is her friend.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
“Aileen doesn’t declare people her friends often, you know that. But more, that means Aileen won’t allow Mala to be used by us if she can help it. Nor will you.” Teo yawned. “I’m exhausted. Long day at the clinic. I’ll get on that blood test and keep the results quiet. You and I and Mala can talk about it afterwards. Once I’ve informed Mala either way, that is, and I have her permission to talk to you.”
Teo believed in doctor-patient confidentiality.
“Of course.”
“Meanwhile, we’re in a holding pattern.” Teo waited for Angus to confirm that last statement. Then he paused and Angus found he was bracing himself for a doctor-like statement. “I hope, Angus, you’re not taking some kind of weird responsibility for Davies’s violence.”
“Nope.”
“Davies is responsible for the actions of Davies,” Teo intoned, then grinned at Angus’s evident irritation.
“As I’ve told Caleb.” As someone once told Angus about his own father.
“All right.” Teo grinned again, this time a slyer expression. “Better go check on Mala on your way home tonight.”
Angus rose. “Good night, Teo.”
“If you and Aileen are offering Mala true friendship, I think that’s worth quite a lot to someone who has few family and friends to depend upon.”
Friendship. It really wasn’t how Angus thought of Mala, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t true. He inclined his head to acknowledge Teo’s point. Teo stood and they shook hands before Angus clapped him on the back. Then Angus left. He hadn’t told Teo, but he wasn’t going home tonight. Aileen and Jancis were holding down the fort while Angus stayed at the B and B to watch over Mala.
Rory, Angus’s son, was a very pleasant young man. Okay, he wasn’t that much younger than her, a year or two maybe. But Mala rather wished she had a way of telling him he could leave now.
Instead he poured himself another coffee.
“Actually,” he said, “I can’t leave. Not until Dad arrives.”
She sometimes wondered if these people could read her mind.
He laughed. “Don’t look so alarmed. Your face is easy to read, which isn’t a bad thing,” he added quickly. “And…” He came to realize he wasn’t making the situation better.
“Is this something you can smell?” she asked in disbelief.
“Uh, well, sorta.” He cast around for a better spin. “Because of our senses we can read people quite well, but not their minds.”
“But your boyfriend…” Mala’s question trailed off. Scott was a Minder, Angus had casually dropped that bomb one time, and before she could ask more on the subject, his phone had rung, ending the conversation.
Rory’s pleasant expression changed to one of defensiveness. “No. Scott doesn’t read minds. And while he can make people think or do things they wouldn’t have done, he doesn’t. Especially not here where wolves are unaffected by his ability. That’s why he likes Wolf Town.”
“Well, he’s a bit like me then. Not that I’m living here,” she added hastily, “but we are both among wolves and have…different abilities.” She didn’t know how to describe what she could do. People called her a wraith, but it had a cold, spectral ring to it that she didn’t find endearing or even positive.
Rory cocked his head and smiled, warm again, and she saw how like his father he was. “Sure, you have that in common.”
She traced the rim of her cold coffee cup, staring at her finger. “Sally is uncomfortable around me because I was inside her in my dream.” She glanced up to see how Rory took that description. If he loved his boyfriend, he might not think she was wrong to have the ability to dream, to be a wraith.
“Sally is uncomfortable, period. She’s been through a rough time.” He paused. “She’s probably most uncomfortable around Dad, to be honest.”
Mala felt surprised. “Why would that be?” And how? Angus was just about the most comfortable person in the world to be around, though Rory might be a close second—he was certainly charming.
“Because he’s the alpha, and that gives him a certain amount of power. That power unnerves Sally.”
“I don’t understand this alpha business,” Mala admitted. “I mean I do in a way. He’s in charge, he’s the leader, people look to him. But at times people react more strongly than I expect to his position. As if he’s some kind of…king.”
“For what it’s worth, Scott doesn’t get the whole alpha thing either, so I wouldn’t worry about it.”
The door opened then, and the alpha himself stepped in, bringing cold air with him before he shut the door tight.
“Speak of the devil,” murmured Rory.
“Were you?” asked Angus mildly as he divested himself of his outerwear.
“Singing your praises, Dad, that’s all.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, Mala was saying how people look up to you and she doesn’t understand it.”
“Well,” began Mala, feeling that wasn’t an accurate rendering of what she’d told Rory. “I don’t understand everything about what being an alpha means.”
At that Rory smirked at his dad and pulled on his own coat. “I’ll leave you to explain everything.” He turned back to her. “It was nice chatting with you, Mala. Good night.”
“Good night,” she said a little faintly. She’d been wanting him to leave, but she’d also meant to scoot upstairs so there wasn’t an awkward good night with Angus. Eden had already left for her house down the road.
As Rory departed, another blast of cold air entered the restaurant, then Angus went and locked the door for the night. When he turned back, there was an intensity on his face she hadn’t seen before. At least not when he focused on her.
“You doing okay? Rory treat you right?”
Of course Rory had treated her right. A more well-meaning and genial person she had yet to meet. “Yes.”
“He should apologize for scaring you that other morning. But no doubt he’s forgotten all about it.”
She blinked as it took her a moment to associate Rory with the wolf that had followed her and frightened her during her first twenty-four hours in Wolf Town. “An apology isn’t necessary. I’m just not used to seeing you as wolves. I haven’t seen you as a wolf, for example.”
He inclined his head in agreement, then took a seat beside her. He appeared to choose his next words with care. “It’s true, you haven’t. Would you like to see me as wolf?”
There seemed to be more to the question than she understood, rather like the alpha business, and she answered his question with a question. “Would you like me to dream of you, become part of you?”
“Before I had met you, no.” He quirked his mouth. “I admit I’m curious now.”
“I’m curious too. About you being wolf.” She certainly wasn’t curious about what it would be like to find him in her dream. That would be hell, given the usual state of wolves she was drawn to. She never wanted anyone, let alone Angus, so full of fear.
“I don’t scare easily,” he told her, tone quiet, and she thought of what Rory had said earlier, how her face was easy to read.
She couldn’t meet his gaze. “I don’t like the idea of you being threatened.” It was the closest she could come to admitting she liked him. She didn’t intend to give herself away. But she also couldn’t hide her horror at the possibility of him being attacked.
He caught her face, gently, and smoothed a thumb across her cheekbone. She couldn’t contain her shiver.
“If I had my way, you’d never have to dream again.”
With his touch, she found she could look into his eyes. They were a warm blue and she wondered how she’d thought them cold when they’d first met. Intense, yes, but with a flame more than ice.
“That’s not going to happen,” she told him. “I gave up on the idea of my dreams stopping years ago.”
&n
bsp; “There was a time when I didn’t want to turn wolf.”
The thumb brushed her skin again, but this time she didn’t care if her tremble gave her away. “I don’t wish that on anyone, wanting to get rid of a part of you that is…”
“Essential?”
She shook her head, her cheek turning into his warm palm. When she made herself pull away, his palm slid down to rest against her neck.
“What then?” he asked, his voice mesmerizing.
“It’s always felt like a burden, that’s all.” No, that wasn’t quite right. So she amended, “It’s always felt like a part of me too, but not essential, just…what I am and it’s not going to change, not going to go away.”
He kissed her cheek, and it felt like praise somehow. “If you wait another week, for the full moon, when it’s easier for me to shift, I’ll give you a demonstration, if you’re still inclined. No pressure.”
“Another week,” she repeated. He didn’t expect her to be gone in a week, and while she should have been dismayed, that wasn’t the emotion she felt at all. She liked the idea of staying here with him, and his offering to show her his wolf felt like a gift. But he took her words differently and withdrew his hand.
“This isn’t going to be over in a week, Mala.” His strong arms crossed over his chest, muscles bunching as he gave a sympathetic shrug.
“I’m getting too comfortable in Wolf Town,” she admitted.
“That’s really not a problem.”
She couldn’t tell him she would be lonely when she went back, not when he was looking at her as if she meant something to him.
“I own a renovations company. What’s your job?”
“Administrative assistant. I like it, when the people I work with are reasonable.” She tried not to sound defensive. Her parents had expected more from her, but she’d had enough of school and had walked into this.
“I need an administrative assistant.”
“Yeah, right.”
“I couldn’t be more serious.”
It made her uneasy, this offer of work. “I’ll be pushing someone out of their job, if there is one. If not, you don’t need one.”
“Wrong. Steve and Rory help me, but Steve would rather be doing the hands-on work and Rory has his accounting business to run. We’re growing, as the town grows, so we need…” He smiled then, full blast, and it was both sweet and hot. “You.”
She could feel the pulse going in her throat and she suddenly realized he could see it too. He could smell her, he’d said so more than once, and no doubt he understood she was increasingly attracted to him. She should have been mortified, but he took it all away by standing up to say, “Everything is going to be fine.”
Chapter Sixteen
She’d been here before, of course she had—but quite a while ago. When she’d first left home, it had been a wild time sexually, mostly joyful, a few missteps. Nothing too deep either. Later she recognized she’d done that on purpose, wanting to avoid much actual sleeping together. That euphemism for sex was ironic, given her unique situation.
“Let’s go upstairs,” Angus said quietly.
Smiling at him, she wondered how he put her so at ease. She wanted to go to him, and in that unnerving way of his, he opened his arms.
She shook her head but rose. “I swear you guys are mind readers.”
“Nah.” He met her halfway and his warmth enveloped her, arms coming around her, head bending towards her.
“You just smell me and know everything.” Her voice was muffled against his chest.
“And you smell wonderful.”
She burrowed closer.
“I don’t know everything, Mala.” His chest rumbled against her as he spoke.
“Thank God.”
With that, he slid a hand into her hair and pulled her face from him so he was looking down at her, frowning a little. His other palm came up to cup her cheek. “Maybe you’re too used to hiding.”
Before she could protest, he brought his mouth to hers. “Shhhh,” he whispered against her lips before he tasted her and she tasted him. It was leisurely at first, nice, comfortable, exactly what she wanted, her body softening under his, a wave of relief flowing through her. But then his muscles seemed to bunch beneath her hands, and he cradled her face and kissed her more deeply, stealing her breath. While she tried to catch up, she ended up clinging to him, holding on as he lifted her into his arms and she wrapped her legs around his hips.
He tamped down the kiss and nipped her bottom lip. “I don’t want to trip on the steps.”
She expected him to put her down, but he didn’t, just strode up the stairs with her, though once they reached her door, something shifted between them, and he set her down.
He stroked hair off her face and she was reminded again how much she’d missed this. Whatever justification she’d created over these past years to accommodate her loneliness—that she was a cold adult who didn’t need physical affection, that her youthful indiscretions could be ascribed to youth and rebellion… He’d demolished those ideas.
“Thinking so much,” he said, voice low, and he seemed to be holding himself very carefully. “That can be our good-night kiss.”
She lifted her chin and shook her head. “I’d rather sleep with you.” She knew he wanted her, physically at least, and she couldn’t see Angus kissing her if he had some other issue she wasn’t aware of. He was very straightforward in his way.
He bent down to rest his forehead against hers. “I didn’t mean this evening to go this way.”
She searched for rejection in those words, but it wasn’t there so she asked, “Why not?”
He kissed her eye, her cheek, her neck under her jawline where her pulse felt so strong and alive. “Because I’ve pretty much forced you to stay here, in Wolf Town. I feel it’s on me to take extra care with how I treat you.”
“Then it must be nice for you to understand that I want you. I know you know that.”
He slid hands around her waist. “It is. More than nice.” His voice deepened. “But I don’t want you to feel manipulated later on.”
Okay, some men had to be invited into your room, and Angus was one of them. She opened her door—she no longer bothered to lock it when she went out, the credit-card scare long past—and took his hand to lead him inside.
She was trembling a little, not from fear but anticipation. “I’ve shut down the last few years because of the dreams. I was scared this was over for me.”
His eyes darkened. “Not if I have anything to do with it.”
That hadn’t come out quite the way he meant. He was trying not to come on too strong. He’d always been careful with his human lovers, restrained, and it was one more reason his life had been more celibate than not.
But she just grinned. He’d thought she’d be shy, so when her smile dimmed and a caution entered her expression, he was waiting for her to voice second thoughts. Instead, she asked, “Can we sleep together afterwards?”
He searched for the real meaning behind those words.
She traced a finger up the inside of his forearm, before she stepped back. “I think I can warn you that I sometimes scream in my sleep.”
That touch of her finger had gone straight to his groin, but he attempted to process her words. “I think you’re teasing me. A new side of you I haven’t seen before.”
She laughed, then bit her lip. “I’ve never had anyone accuse me of teasing them when I’ve warned them of my bad sleeping habits. In fact…”
But he didn’t want her to be thinking of old lovers and, by the troubled expression on her face, what hadn’t worked out. “Come here.”
She raised one eyebrow. “Or what?”
He hadn’t expected this playfulness. “Hmmm.” He took a step towards her, watched her slide one foot backwards before he pounced, catching her up and hearing her squeal as she went up on his shoulder and then down on the bed, him right on top of her.
“So that’s how you like it?” he asked.
She didn’t bother to answer, just drew him in for another kiss as she arched to make full-body contact. This time, he meant to keep his head, but as her body softened under his, molding against him, he felt himself coming undone.
He pulled back, stroking her hair again, unable to completely detach.
She pushed up and him back. “Okay, Angus.” When she nipped his neck, he groaned. “It’s been three years for me. What’s your timeline?”
He shook his head as she slid her slender hands under his shirt and pushed it up and off. The skin-on-skin contact was too much. He’d forgotten what he got like when he went too long.
“Keeping secrets?” She nuzzled his chest. “I’ll have to pry them out of you.”
“No time for prying,” he muttered and ripped open her shirt.
For a brief moment she looked surprised, and he stilled, but she laughed. “I think it’s been a little while.”
As he watched her undo his belt, he wondered at this alternating passive-aggressive approach of his. Not exactly Mr. Suave here. He cleared his throat.
She rose up on her knees and kissed him before he could speak, and he had enough time to think maybe they should talk afterwards, not now because he was too busy undressing her and tasting her mouth, her skin. Then he lifted her farther up to pull that beautiful dark nipple into his mouth.
She arched against him, making the most gorgeous sound, part moan, part sigh, like she’d been waiting forever for this moment. He laid her out on the bed and moved to her other breast, the areola and nipple primed just for him.
“God,” she said, and he knew she was as ready as he was, that they’d been dancing around each other in their own way the entire time she’d been here, despite all the crazy goings-on, despite all her uncertainties. Sliding a hand down her soft belly, he came to curls, and she lifted her pelvis, encouraging him to explore farther. He teased that nub of hers that was already erect.
“Angus,” she demanded, and he didn’t know what the demand was, but entering her sheath with one finger set her off. She rippled under him as she cried out.
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