“See you later, Miss M.”
The front door closed and Rachel approached the kitchen. “I’m sure you heard all that with your super-duper ears.”
Jake walked out to meet her. “I did. You handled it well.”
“I left your clothes just inside the front door. They definitely need washing. Assuming the coast is clear, would you like me to bring in the duffle bag?”
“Yes, please. And as much as I feel like ravishing you, I’m really, really hungry. And the food’s ready.”
“Then let me get your duffle so you can get dressed and we can have dinner.” Her silver eyes held the promise of what was to come. “No rush. We have all night.”
The way she said it almost made him reconsider having dinner first. But he hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and he’d expended a lot of energy since then. While Rachel went out to her truck to grab the duffle bag, he went back into the kitchen for a bowl of salad he’d tossed earlier.
As he located place settings and opened a bottle of red he’d found in her wine rack, he anticipated the pleasure of sharing another dinner with Rachel. Although he cooked for trekking clients out on the trail, he ate most of his meals at home by himself. He hadn’t thought he’d minded, but now that he’d experienced having Rachel around for this daily ritual, he’d miss her enthusiastic presence.
By the time she returned with his duffle bag, he’d put all the food on the table and had even located a couple of candles and candlesticks.
She laughed in obvious delight when she noticed the flickering tapers. “I’d forgotten I had those.”
“You don’t eat by candlelight?”
“It seems sort of silly if you’re by yourself.” She set down the duffle and glanced at him. “Especially in the summer when it’s bright as day.”
“I know. We don’t really need the light, but I’ve always liked the look of candles. Werewolves are drawn to fire.”
She seemed intrigued by that idea. “Do you eat by candlelight?”
“Hey, do I strike you as the type of male who lights candles before diving into his solitary meal? I hope to hell not.”
“Well, no.” She grinned. “That doesn’t conjure a picture of a manly man, or, in your case, a rugged werewolf.”
“That’s right. So the answer is no, I don’t eat by candlelight. I make do with firelight on camping trips. But in some situations, candles are perfect. And this is one of them. I’m glad you had a couple of tapers in your cupboard.”
“Me, too. Well, here’s your stuff. I don’t know if you want to get dressed here, or –”
“I’ll take it into the bedroom.”
“Right. You like privacy.”
“I do. Go ahead and pour the wine. I’ll be right back.” He picked up the duffle and carried it into her bedroom. Then he came back out and scooped up his clothes lying by the front door. “If you have a plastic bag, I’ll stick these in my duffle.”
“Sure. Hang on.” She set down the wine bottle and popped into the kitchen. Soon she was back with a plastic grocery sack. “I don’t have many of these. I take my own bags to the store.”
“I’m with you on that.”
She smiled as if that meant a lot to her. “Glad to hear it.”
He dumped everything in the bag, but on an impulse pulled out the shirt. “Good thing I didn’t lose this. It’s my favorite T-shirt.”
“Yeah? I hate to admit I didn’t notice your shirt this morning. Let me see.” She took it and held it by the shoulders. “Wow, nice.”
“I found it several years ago on a trip to Idaho.” The T-shirt was black imprinted with an image of wolves sitting around a campfire. Underneath was lettered The Gathering.
“I can guess why it’s your favorite. It’s a pack.”
She was right, of course, but until now, he hadn’t understood why he’d been so drawn to the graphic on this shirt, other than the obvious—it was wolves and fire, both of which he liked.
“You may live like a lone wolf, but that’s not who you are,” she said gently. “You need a family.”
“Guess so.” Embarrassed by the catch in his voice, he covered it with a laugh. “Damn, we’re letting the food get cold. You know how I hate that. Be right back.” Turning quickly, he walked into her bedroom. He didn’t realize until he got there that he’d been in such a hurry to escape his own emotional reaction that he’d left her holding the shirt.
She understood him in a way that no one ever had. Naturally he’d had guilty fantasies about building a life with her. Now she’d unearthed his deepest desire, one he hadn’t admitted to himself until now. He longed to create a mighty werewolf pack in the heart of Alaska, where the legend had begun. And she was the one he pictured by his side. There was only one problem with that dream. She wasn’t Were.
Chapter Twenty-One
Even without the doomed pan of rice, the meal was incredible. Rachel gazed at Jake over the rim of her wineglass. “You’re one hell of a cook.”
“Yeah, if you ignore the rice disaster that set off your smoke alarm.”
She waved that aside. “Things happen. It’s hard to concentrate on your rice when long-lost members of the Hunter pack show up. You probably need to call them. I told them you would.”
“I should.” He didn’t look eager to grab his phone.
“They seemed nice enough, Jake. And they were close friends of your parents, right?”
“Yes.”
“It might be really great to talk about your folks with someone who knew them back when. The Hunters probably have some good stories you haven’t heard.”
“Maybe. In fact, I’m sure they do.” He poured himself more wine and started to give her some, too.
“That’s okay.” She placed her hand over her glass. “I’m not as big as you and I don’t want anything to interfere with –” She started to say our last night because she thought it probably would be. But she decided not to put that into words, which would depress both of them. “Our fun and games,” she said, finishing on a positive note.
Jake set down his wine glass. “In that case, maybe I’ll leave this for later.” Heat flared in his eyes. “Afterward.”
“Jake, you need to make that call.”
“Right.” With a sigh, he pushed back his chair and stood. “If you don’t mind, I’ll take my phone out on the deck, in case they want to talk longer than a couple of minutes. There’s nothing more annoying than being subjected to someone’s one-sided phone conversation.”
“True.” She didn’t say what she really felt, that listening to him interact with his own kind would be fascinating. She didn’t want him to think she was a voyeur peeking into the intimate life of his species.
Yet when he took his phone outside, she felt excluded. She didn’t like being reminded that she wasn’t a part of his world, but in fact, she wasn’t. Not only that, he didn’t want her to be.
Truth time, here. She could rave on all day about her willingness to adjust to his culture, but he hadn’t asked her to do that. Instead he constantly emphasized his opposition to bringing her into the werewolf community. If she didn’t shut up about it, she would start to sound pathetic, like a werewolf groupie.
Gathering the dishes, she carried them into the kitchen and loaded them in the dishwasher. She wasn’t much of a cook, but she was an excellent busser. Within ten minutes she had the food put away, the kitchen sparkling, and the dishwasher running.
Inching her living room window blind aside, she was able to see Jake pacing her deck while he talked on his phone. He didn’t look particularly relaxed. Having the Hunters show up seemed to have put him on edge.
She got that. Living up here, far from her parents, she was used to being her own person. She’d moved to Alaska partly for that reason, to establish herself as an individual.
Jake’s motivations for leaving Idaho seemed very similar to hers for leaving California. But now Idaho had come to him, and that sense of freedom might be slipping away. She certainly experienced
that whenever her parents came to visit, much as she loved them.
With nothing more to do, she walked into her bedroom. His duffle bag sat on the floor in a corner, but Duncan MacDowell’s book, which she’d taken without permission from his bedside table, lay on the bed. She hoped he wasn’t upset that she’d tucked it into the duffle.
Because she’d drawn all the blinds earlier in the day, the room was fairly dim except for the light from her bedside lamp. Nudging off her shoes, she propped pillows against the headboard, picked up Duncan’s book, and settled down to read.
Several chapters later, Jake’s voice broke her concentration.
“I can’t let you keep that.” He stood in the doorway, and the scene wasn’t terribly different from the time he’d first caught her reading this book, except they were in her bedroom and not his. His expression, though, was completely different. He looked at her with deep caring and more than a little concern.
“I know I can’t have it,” she said. “But are you upset because I brought it over here?”
“Not upset, exactly. Worried, maybe.”
“Why are you worried?” She wished he’d come over to the bed so they could be closer while having this conversation, but she wasn’t willing to ask him to do that.
He leaned against the doorframe. “I don’t want you to become fascinated with the Were culture.”
That hit her wrong. Who was he to say what should fascinate her and what shouldn’t? “Too late.” She heard the defiant tone of her voice but couldn’t help it. “I’m already fascinated.”
“That’s Duncan’s gift. He has charisma, which is why he has so many female followers. And he makes the life of a werewolf appear to be a glamorous alternative to the ordinary existence of humans.”
“That’s not so difficult to do, Jake. I’ve discovered that urban Weres glide through the city in chauffeured limos and have private jets at their disposal. Duncan describes a world of wealth and privilege. I’m beginning to wonder how many of my clients are werewolves.”
“From what I know, quite a few.”
She stared at him. “What do you mean, from what you know. Have you been keeping tabs on me?”
“I didn’t tell you that?”
“No, you did not.” She was secretly thrilled that he’d been paying such close attention to her and her career.
“You built your reputation on your rendering of a certain wolf who looks quite a lot like me. Don’t think the werewolf community hasn’t noticed.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope.”
“Are you telling me they recognized you in my carvings?”
“They did. Most humans think all wolves look alike, except maybe for some different coloring. But we don’t, and a few Weres are convinced that you’re reproducing versions of me.”
She was stunned. “Are Ann and Bruce Hunter convinced of that?”
“They might be. We didn’t get into that, fortunately. If push came to shove, I could point out that the wolf is actually my dad, not me. They’d probably take a closer look and agree, since they knew him so well. But I have to be careful not to sound defensive, as if I have something to hide.”
“And you didn’t used to, but now you do.”
“It seems so.”
She hated asking the next question, but she had to hear his answer. “Do you regret knowing me, then?”
“No.” His low, urgent response was all she needed. Pushing away from the doorframe, he came over to the bed. “I’ll never regret what we’ve had, Rachel.”
She noticed the past tense but didn’t want to dwell on it. She gazed up at him. “You had a nice long chat, though. You must be happy to reconnect.” She had a hunch about the telephone conversation, because his whole manner had changed in subtle ways.
“Yeah.” He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans and glanced at her. “The Hunters aren’t on vacation. They were sent by the pack as emissaries, because their past ties with my parents made them the werewolves with the best chance of convincing me.”
“To do what?” She scooted over and patted a spot beside her. “Come sit with me. Don’t be a stranger.”
Jake gave her a faint smile and sat down, angling his body to face her. “Keegan Hunter, the pack alpha, has asked to be relieved of his duties. He forced himself to lead the pack because he was next in line, but he’s a werewolf historian who loves his studies more than he loves the daily job of running the pack. He’s done well, but he isn’t happy.”
“And they want you to take over.” Her heart thudded as she saw all hope of a future with Jake disappear. “Jake, that’s a wonderful opportunity!”
“I have to admit it sounds pretty good.”
“It sounds perfect.” She pushed aside her own grief so that she could be happy for him. He might love Alaska, but he loved the idea of his own pack, too, and here was his chance to have that. He wouldn’t have to start from scratch. The pack would be in place, and although Idaho wasn’t Alaska, it had its own rugged beauty.
“Anyway, that’s why Ann and Bruce are here.” Jake met her gaze. “They didn’t like the idea of presenting such a major proposition over the phone, but they…well, after meeting you, they had a sense of urgency.”
“Because I might be a threat to their plan?”
He nodded.
“I’m not a threat, Jake. I would never stand in your way. You know I wouldn’t.”
“I told them that, but they’re hard-wired to be suspicious of all humans.”
“But as long as they don’t know that I know, we’re good, right?”
“Right. And they’ll never find out that you’re in on the secret.”
Rachel told herself not to buy trouble, but she couldn’t seem to keep herself from asking the question. “Let’s say that they somehow did find out that I know. Would they have me killed?”
“No, of course not.”
“But if they think I might destroy the entire werewolf community, why wouldn’t they?”
“Because, as I keep trying to tell you, we’re peaceful. We don’t kill people. We don’t even kill the traitors within our ranks, and we had one last year.”
She swallowed. So there was a system of punishment. “If you didn’t kill him, what did you do with him?”
“He’ll be imprisoned for a long, long time.”
“So I wouldn’t be killed. I’d just be thrown in a dungeon deep under some castle, chained to the wall, and fed maggot-infested bread once a day.”
“Good Lord.” Jake shook his head. “You and Lionel come up with the most incredible doomsday scenarios. First of all, no one’s going to find out you know anything, but even if they did, you wouldn’t end up in a dungeon.”
“Okay.”
“Look, you’ll be fine, but if someone suspected that you knew about us, I would never let anything happen to you.”
“That’s easy to say, Jake, but if you take this offer, you’ll be in Idaho.”
He gazed at her silently for several seconds. “Doesn’t matter. I would still know if you’re in trouble. I’d sense it.”
She drew in a sharp breath. That meant more to her than he would ever realize. He’d acknowledged the soul-deep link between them.
But soul-deep link aside, he’d still be in Idaho. “Even if you sensed something was wrong, you couldn’t get to me in time. I appreciate the sentiment more than I can say, but I don’t see how you can protect me from Idaho.”
“Of course I can.”
“How? Are you going to send your personal bodyguards? Because that’s not how I live, Jake. I don’t even like the alarms I had installed. Secret agent-type werewolves with sunglasses, buzz haircuts, narrow black ties, and little curly wires hanging behind their ears would freak me out.”
He stroked her hair back from her face and smiled at her. “You are so adorable.”
“Don’t patronize me. I mean it.”
“I’m not sending bodyguards, but even if I did, they wouldn’t look like tha
t. Way too obvious.”
“I don’t care if they look like Betty White. I need my creative space. I realize that makes it harder to keep me safe, which is why I’m wondering how you would do it.”
“You’re assuming any of this will be necessary, which it won’t. But okay, if you want to play worst case scenario, if it comes out that you have knowledge of us, then I will guarantee to the Were community that you’re completely trustworthy.”
“And The Powers That Be will just accept that?”
“Yep.”
“Is your word that powerful?”
He shrugged. “It’s pretty powerful, but I’d also put up everything I own as collateral. Well, and they’d have me. So you’d never have to worry.”
“Oh.” She let out a breath. “Then I guess it’s a good thing that nobody knows what I know.”
“Yes, it is.”
“But what a nightmare if they found out.” Everything he owned, and even Jake himself, would be held hostage to guarantee that she’d keep her mouth shut. She’d always known the stakes were high, but this laid it out for her in detail. “You don’t have to worry, Jake. I will never let you down.”
“I know that.” He gazed at her tenderly as he combed his fingers through her hair.
“Not even under torture. At least I hope not. I’ve never been tortured, so I might crack right away.”
“Fortunately, I can’t imagine why anyone would torture you, so I think we’re okay, there. But wow, you do have quite an imagination.”
“So you say, but it took me several days to figure out you were a werewolf.”
“But you did figure it out. I should have realized you would, with the way your brain works.”
She studied him. “You know how in the cop shows it often turns out that the criminal really wants to be caught?”
“I guess. I don’t watch much TV.”
“Me either, but I’ve picked up on that common thread. Anyway, my point is that you secretly wanted me to find out about you.”
“No.” He frowned. “No, I definitely didn’t.”
“Are you sure? Search your heart, Jake, and tell me you weren’t hoping, even though you didn’t want to admit it to yourself, that I’d break the code.”
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