A SEAL in Wolf's Clothing

by Terry Spear

  “Oh, Finn,” she mouthed against his throat as another wave of orgasm drew over her.

  But it wasn’t until he gave one last thrust and she felt his hot seed fill her that he finally whispered in her wet hair, “You are a Viking’s treasure.”

  “Conquest, you mean,” she said, breathlessly.

  “Yeah.” He kissed her cheek and set her on the shower floor. “I always knew my mate would live by the sea.”

  She raised her brows. “What would you have done if I had still lived in the forests of California?”

  “Moved you to a home by the sea.”

  She sighed and turned off the water. “I’m so sorry about your home.”

  He grabbed a towel and began drying her. “It didn’t have the amenities that this one does.”

  “Since it was so luxurious, I’m surprised that you didn’t have the fancy showerheads and all.”

  “I meant you,” he said, wrapping the towel around her back like a sling and pulling her to his hard body. His mouth pressed against hers until her tongue played with his, and she slipped her arms around his waist and held on tight.

  “I thought you weren’t a romantic, but, Finn, you’ve got them all beat.”

  He finished drying her and grabbed a towel to dry off his body while she wrapped one around her hair in a turban. “Damn right I have,” he said.

  She chuckled and slipped into a strapless terry cloth dress, the smocked bodice fitting tightly over her breasts, the length of the skirt high thigh.

  He wrapped the towel around his waist, smiled down at her, and cupped her breasts in his hands. “I like this.”

  “Thank you. It’s meant to be a beach cover-up, but I like to wear it when I get out of the shower sometimes before going to bed. I’m going to fix some roast beef hash from the leftovers—old family recipe. Want some?”

  “Yeah, but…” he said, pulling her close, “I thought maybe we could lie down for a bit first.”

  “Not now. Afterward. I’m starving.” She pressed his lips with a quick kiss, but when his hands went to her hips and he locked onto her mouth with a penetrating kiss, she quickly broke free. And smiled at him. “You’ll have me barefoot and pregnant before long if we keep this up.”

  “Hmm, Meara, I like that idea.” He reached for her shoulders, but she quickly dodged his hands, tossed the towel from her head into the clothes basket, slipped out of the bedroom, and headed for the door. “More after we eat.”

  Smiling, she hurried down the hall to the kitchen, thinking how much her uncle’s place was really a home to her now that Finn was her mate. And wondering if he was through taking Navy showers for the rest of his life.

  A knock on the back door had her nearly jumping out of her skin.

  She walked to the door and opened it to see a tanned, attractive man with obsidian eyes and hair and a smile that brightened his whole expression as he looked her over from the wet tangled hair dangling over her shoulders to the short terry cloth dress she wore and her bare feet. “Well, I believe this little resort is just the place I needed to be for the first vacation I’ve had in years. You must be Meara Greymere. I’m—”

  She didn’t have a chance to say anything before Finn stalked into the room, silent as a SEAL and a wolf combined, still wearing only a towel around his torso as he closed in on her and pulled her against his chest in an overwhelmingly flagrant show of alpha male possessiveness. He kissed the top of her head.

  In no uncertain terms, he was making it clear to any other male wolf, this one in particular, that Meara might be renting the cabins to single alpha males, but she’d already made her selection and Finn was one damn lucky wolf. But it also reminded her of how he had first claimed her in front of Bjornolf.

  The man stood his ground, typical alpha male, but smiled a little unevenly. “Guess I booked my reservation a little too late.”

  “Reservation.” She had totally forgotten about the incoming guests this week. “No,” she quickly said, wanting to make the resort a success since Hunter had given her full rein over it now that he didn’t have to worry about her because she was Finn’s problem. She smiled at the notion. “You’ll have a wonderful time. And Finn’s a SEAL, so if you need a running partner or someone to show you the best places to swim, he won’t mind going with you.”

  “And you?” he asked.

  “For an extra cost, I cook meals.” She caressed Finn’s arm still wrapped around her waist. “Finn does a great job making s’mores, though.”

  “S’mores?” The guest chuckled. “Looks like I made the right choice for a vacation after all. Only I still wish I’d come a little sooner.”

  Meara smiled. “Things were a little… hectic earlier. And you would have had to come a long time ago, if you were looking for more than a vacation.”

  He looked at Finn and said, “Long drive to get here, and I need to work out some kinks before I retire for the night. Want to show me the area and take a little run?”

  Finn smiled and tightened his hold on Meara. “We’ve got the night booked. Tomorrow, first thing, I can show you around the place.”

  She sighed. “You must be Hugh Sutherland.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  Thrill seeker, she recalled that she’d noted about him. But if he sought anything of the sort, he’d have to find it on his own. “There’s your key. You have the cabin farthest from this one.” She waved her hand toward the north.

  Hugh nodded and took the key in hand, then said to Finn, “Tomorrow then. But I won’t disturb you.” He gave Meara a meaningful look, then refocused his attention on Finn. “Just drop by when it’s convenient. Hell, I’m on vacation, so no appointments for anything. Oh, and someone delivered something on the back porch.” He bowed his head to the two of them and closed the back door.

  “Hmm, you’re supposed to help market the resort, too,” Meara said, as Finn slid his hands around her breasts and began to massage them, his face nuzzling her neck. “And sending away our guests without accommodating them further probably won’t give us four-star rating.”

  “I’ll make it up to him tomorrow,” Finn said, seductively licking her ear.

  She groaned and whispered, “I’m hungry.”

  “Me, too.”

  She headed for the back door to check out the package, but when she opened the door, she frowned at the tall box. And then as she read the label, she shook her head. Turning, she saw Finn smiling broadly at her.

  “Well? You told me you needed a new vacuum,” he said smugly.

  “A vacuumer. As in someone who vacuums. Hmm, I guess I did say that I needed a new vacuum also. And you know what? I know just who to teach how to use it.”

  He stalked forward to carry the box inside, then locked the door, and pulled her into his arms. “So, what do you think of the wedding present?”

  “Oh, Finn, I think it’s a great wedding present for you,” she said, sliding her hands across his nipples in a provocative way.

  His hands went to her breasts again, and he was about to kiss her when his phone rang in her pocket.

  Uh-oh.

  He slipped his hand into Meara’s front right pocket. “Got my phone again?”

  “Yeah, just in case you get any unwanted calls.”

  He snorted. “Like from old flames or anyone contacting me about any dangerous missions?”

  He glanced at the caller ID, and she waited, barely breathing. He took a deep breath and patted her on the rump. “Fix dinner. I’ll make a salad.”

  “Salad?” She couldn’t believe he’d eat a salad, considering all the times when she’d had to force Hunter to.

  Finn shrugged. “My mother taught me to eat my greens. It just became a habit.”

  “That’s good, Finn.” She frowned at the ringing phone in his hand. “Aren’t you going to answ
er the call?”

  He slipped his hand around hers and hauled her to the kitchen. “What for? It’s probably another of those damned dangerous missions Paul wants me to go on now that Hunter won’t leave Tessa alone. I’ve got enough of one right here. First, I’ve got to make sure all these bachelor males that made arrangements to stay at the resort know you’re not available, and second, I’ve got to keep you satisfied.”

  God, he was the only wolfish SEAL-man for her. And she loved him for it.

  She touched the top edge of his towel with her fingertip. “Maybe we could eat afterward.” She yanked off his towel, dropped it to the floor, and dashed around him for the bedroom.

  Finn tackled Meara before she got far and swept her up in his arms, loving this aspect of her also—her playfulness. She tossed back her head and laughed. She was the most beautiful thing that had happened in his life, and he couldn’t see how he’d even considered which option to choose—deadly contracts or… this.

  Plus after the shower they’d just shared, he was never going back to Navy showers.

  The SEAL had caught his wolf and his only mission now was making her happy, proving to her that he had no intention of quashing her alpha tendencies, and loving her just the way she was—every sexy damned bit of her.

  While keeping her out of trouble.

  Look for the first book in Terry Spear’s hot NEW shape-shifter series:

  Available October 2012 from Sourcebooks Casablanca

  Read on for excerpts from

  From Legend of the White Wolf

  The black bear was running away a hell of a lot faster than Owen Nottingham and his P.I. partner David Davis thought capable. Their hunting guide, Trevor Hodges, yelled at them to keep up, but at the rate the bear was going, Owen and David would never last. Already Owen had shin splints, and his side was aching something fierce. Damn, here he thought he was in good shape.

  They couldn’t use dogs on the bear this late in the year in Maine, but the owner of Back Country Tours, Kintail Silverman, got around that by sending his pet wolves on the hunt. The sleek white-furred creatures made Owen feel like he was part of a wolf pack, hunting for survival, diving around snow-laden firs, blending in, exhilarated, hunting together as a cooperative team. The experience would have been more pleasurable if his other partners were with them—Cameron MacPherson, who wouldn’t hunt for anything other than criminals, and Gavin Summerfield, who’d rather stay in Seattle and work than fly anywhere. But the four of them were like a wolf pack, solving crimes together as a collective unit and socializing as the best of friends throughout the good times and bad.

  So Owen wished they could share hunting excursions together, too.

  He noticed then that there were only snowy woods in front of them. The wolves and the bear were lost in the forest ahead as the chilly wind howled through the trees. Trevor was still keeping a good pace in the distance. For a white-haired old guy, he was lean and in incredibly great shape.

  David had dropped way behind, but Owen was too busy trying to keep up the chase to wait for him to catch up. One last day before their hunt ended. And, hell, they’d tried to bag a bear for the last four years without any luck. The way the bear was outdistancing them in a hurry in the Maine wilderness; Owen was beginning to lose hope they’d make it this time either. But it was the closest they’d come.

  When Owen didn’t hear David’s heavy breathing behind him, or his size ten boots trudging through the deep snow, he turned and looked to see how far behind he was. David was holding his thighs, leaning over, gasping for breath.

  “David, you all right?” Owen asked, knowing it was a dumb question, when he figured David was trying to catch his second wind and couldn’t answer anyway.

  David motioned him on, wheezing, his face red and pinched with pain. “Get the bear! I’m fine. Go. I’ll catch up.”

  But it wasn’t like David not to keep up on a hunt and Owen ran back to check on him. “What’s wrong?” Owen asked, grabbing his arm to steady him.

  “Go. You’ll… never… forgive… me… if… we…” David clutched his chest.

  The wolves and Trevor circled back and joined them. The old man shook his head. “Chest pains?”

  Through clenched teeth, David growled, “From… running… damn it.”

  David was the oldest of the four partners in their private investigator practice, but at thirty-five, David couldn’t be having a heart attack.

  With millions of acres of forest land all around them, they were too deep into the wilderness to get help. Cell phones wouldn’t work out here. Owen knew CPR, but…

  He helped David to sit. “What are you feeling?” he asked, trying to disguise the anxiety in his voice, although he couldn’t hide a deepening frown, and David noticed.

  “Don’t be a… worry…” David clutched his chest even harder, his face sweating in the frigid air.

  “We can’t get any help to him way out here,” Trevor said quietly. “If he’s having a heart attack, it’s not a bad way to go. Quick, no lingering illness.”

  “No!” Owen snapped. “Do you have any aspirin?” How could he let his friend from childhood and one of the best partners he’d had in law enforcement before they’d left the force die on him? He couldn’t. “I know CPR.”

  “It won’t be enough.” Trevor sounded like the voice of reason, but Owen didn’t want to hear it.

  The image of David lunging in front of him, taking a bullet in the shoulder two years ago, flashed across Owen’s mind. He wouldn’t let him go. He couldn’t.

  The wolves watched silently, almost sympathetically as if one of their pack members was in trouble, their ears perked, their tongues hanging out, panting after the long run.

  His hand clutching David’s shoulder, Owen clenched his teeth to bite back the overwhelming feeling of hopelessness. “Can’t we do something? Anything?”

  “Possibly,” Trevor said, “but it will change his life and yours, forever.”

  “I’d do anything to save my friend’s life,” Owen said, figuring Trevor was thinking in terms of if he had enough money, they could air-evac him out somewhere, maybe in a clearing where the loggers had been.

  Trevor put a hand on Owen’s shoulder. “You sure?”

  “Anything, damn it. However much it costs, it’s worth it.”

  Trevor looked back at the wolves. The biggest one bowed its head slightly, then bared his teeth and lunged.

  Before Owen could fathom what was happening, the wolf bit David in the arm. He cried out in pain.

  As Owen swung his rifle to his shoulder to shoot the beast, he caught a blur of white fur in his peripheral vision, right before one of the other wolves pounced on him.

  From Seduced by the Wolf

  Except for a couple of cars parked outside the town hall, the lot was empty, and it appeared the wolf biologist speaking here tonight wouldn’t have much of an audience to lecture to.

  The Oregon air surrounding him felt damp and cool, not like the drier, much sunnier weather Leidolf Wildhaven had left behind in Colorado. He kept telling himself he’d get used to it. Old-time brass lanterns cast a golden glow over the sidewalk. A steady breeze stirred the spring leaves of the massive white oaks that lined the brick walk leading to the two-story building. An antiquated clock chimed seven times in the center of the tower on top, announcing to everyone in the listening area that the time had arrived for the lecture to begin.

  He let out his breath and headed for the building. Anything to do with wolves concerned him, and even though the “doctor” couldn’t say anything that he didn’t already know, he wanted to see how others reacted to her talk concerning them. At this rate, it looked as though no one was going to show.

  He took two steps at a time up the brick stairs and strode into the building, his gaze focusing on the empty chairs and the speakerless podiu
m.

  Dressed in a gray suit, Millie Meekle, the woman in charge of tourism and special events in the area, wrung her hands nearby and shook her head, her stiff, glued-together silver hair not moving a fraction out of place.

  “Oh, Mr. Wildhaven, this is a disaster. Dr. Roux had a flat tire at the place she’s staying, and my husband dropped me off here, so I haven’t any vehicle to go get her.” She waved at the empty seats. “And no one has even shown up yet.”

  “Where’s she staying?”

  Several men sauntered into the town hall, their boots tromping on the wooden floor, their expressions annoyed. “Where’s the doc?” one of the men asked gruffly.

  Millie quickly spoke up. “She’s stuck at the Cranberry Top Bed and Breakfast. Mr. Wildhaven’s kind enough to offer to get her. She’s staying in the Blue Room, first door on the left down the hall from the entryway,” she directed Leidolf.

  The man snorted. “We don’t need no damned wolf biologist telling us how we should reintroduce wolves into the wild out here.”

  “Now, Mr. Hollis,” Millie said.

  “Don’t ‘Now, Mr. Hollis’ me, Millie. You know I raise sheep, and if any damn wolf slinks onto my land, I’ll kill him dead. That’s what I’ll do.”

  “I’ll go get her,” Leidolf said. He stalked out of the building with its oppressive heat and back into the cool out-of-doors. He hadn’t figured any of the livestock owners would bother to come to the meeting, but after seeing the burly men, he was afraid the professor was bound for trouble.

  Climbing into his Humvee, he assumed the woman probably wouldn’t get a whole lot of lecturing done but instead would be faced with a barrage of condemning remarks. He still couldn’t figure out why in the world she’d come here instead of lecturing to a more intellectual crowd in the city of Portland, two hours away.

  Putting the vehicle in drive, he headed to the Cranberry Top, a quaint little red-roofed home with white siding and a white picket fence. Like many of the homes in the area, the place had been turned into a bed-and-breakfast inn because it was situated on a creek perfect for fishing and picturesque Mount Hood could be seen way off in the distance. Great for a Portland getaway.