Sarabeth closed her eyes and leaned into Lottie’s embrace again. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”
“Uh-uh, honey. There’s only one person to blame for what’s happened, and that’s Braswell.”
“I should have told you,” she repeated. “Or Jack. Jack’s going to be mad I didn’t lodge a complaint.”
He might, if he wasn’t too busy just being relieved she was okay. “I wouldn’t worry about it, Sarabeth.”
A soft whisper of bare feet on hardwood was the only indication that Thomas had returned. He dropped a comforting hand to the back of Sarabeth’s head and made a soothing noise. “You’re safe. Let Lottie take care of you. I’ll deal with Jack.”
The girl nodded, and Thomas met Lottie’s gaze over Sarabeth’s head. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Be careful. But the words were silly, and Lottie bit them back. Instead, she offered Thomas a gentle smile and helped Sarabeth to her feet. “Are you hungry? Come on, let’s get you something to eat.”
Thomas caught Braswell’s scent the minute he stepped outside, but he credited it to the nervous mare that shied away from him when he reached for her bridle. He was too upset to hide his power from the horse, but he did take a moment to try to settle himself so she wouldn’t panic and tear his arm off trying to get away.
That was when he realized the scent wasn’t coming from the horse alone. And Braswell was a good tracker in his day…
In the choice between his life and keeping the horse nearby, there was no question. He released the bridle and the mare bolted. Thomas closed his eyes and used the power inside him to find the intruder on his property. To find the enemy.
It didn’t take long. He felt the man circling the house, obvious intent on sneaking up behind Thomas. Braswell had underestimated him, had taken his placid, easygoing exterior at face value.
Most people did.
Thomas gathered his magic inside him and let it out in one careful, directed burst, slamming Ira Braswell full in the teeth in a sharp reminder that beta didn’t mean weak. He heard a muffled grunt and a scuffle of feet, and when he turned he found his opponent doubled over, obviously fighting the wolf’s need to show deference in the face of such furious power.
Good. Thomas let his cold rage fill his voice as he spoke. “Hello, Ira.”
The man finally stood, a smile baring his teeth. “Crawford.”
Thomas’s leg ached, a reminder that he wasn’t in any shape to be getting into fights. The wolf inside him disagreed. Lottie was inside, and a woman who Lottie needed to protect, and the man standing in front of him was the enemy.
He straightened and refused to show weakness. “You’re in a mess of trouble. I think you know that, don’t you?”
Braswell’s hand twitched, almost like he wanted to reach for the pistol at his side. “All I want is what’s mine.”
The growl escaped Thomas before he could stop it. “Nothing here is yours.”
The man’s trembling worsened, but he didn’t back down. “Sarabeth is my mate, and I want her back.”
“This is the Lonely River Pack,” Thomas replied, keeping his voice hard. “No woman is mated in our territory unless she chooses to be.”
“You don’t understand. I’ll give her anything she wants. I already have.”
Unrequited obsession. It happened, but not often. With the competition for women so fierce, most wolves chose a mate and ended any question of who she belonged to. The humans in town seemed mildly appalled by the freedom the werewolf women had when it came to making their own choices in life, but Jack didn’t care.
Neither did Thomas. If the humans chose to rebuild their population by trapping their women in cages, that was their choice. The wolves had no such need.
And Ira Braswell wouldn’t be allowed to break the pack’s rules. “She wants a choice. She made a choice. And not only did you ignore it, you put lives in danger. You’re not going to have her, Ira. Not ever.”
This time, Braswell put a hand to his gun. “You’re not the alpha, Crawford.”
Thomas watched that hand, knowing he’d have to be fast enough to get out of the way of a bullet. “I speak on his behalf. And Sarabeth is under my protection now.”
“No.” Braswell spat out the word. “My mate, my protection. I’m taking her back, Crawford, and don’t try to stop me. Just look after your own mate.”
“That’s what I’m doing. You’ve got one chance, Braswell. Drop the gun and face Jack, or I’m going to rip it out of your hand and drag what’s left of you to face him.”
Braswell drew the gun with an angry roar, and a shot rang out. He screamed and dropped the gun to clutch his wounded shoulder, then hit his knees on the grass.
Lottie stood at the edge of the porch, a rifle still braced against her shoulder. “Don’t make me shoot you again, Ira.”
But all he did was roar again and reach for the fallen pistol with his off hand. Thomas got there first. One sharp kick had his injured leg screaming in protest, but he landed his foot square in Braswell’s chest and knocked the man back over.
Thomas swooped down to pick up the discarded pistol and aimed it at his enemy’s head. “I wasn’t going to let him shoot me, Lottie.”
“Could have fooled me, honey.” The words were casual, but they held an edge of anger, or maybe fear. “Looked like you were going to let him get awful close.”
Braswell groaned softly. Thomas rolled him over with one foot and glanced at Lottie. “I should take him to Jack. It’s what he’d want me to do.” But it wasn’t what he wanted to do. Not when the man bleeding in the dirt at his feet had taken so much away from the woman he cared about.
She made a soft noise of protest, as if she could sense his thoughts. “Thomas…”
“I know.” He closed his eyes and told the wolf to be silent, that Lottie was safe and his job ended there. The pack depended on Thomas and his ability to be the civilized one. The unthreatening one. Not so civilized when it’s your woman in danger.
He dragged in a deep breath and looked at Lottie again. “Rope. We need rope.”
“Chains,” she murmured, raising the rifle again. “In the stable, by the door.”
Leaving Braswell alive was one thing. Leaving him alive and out in the courtyard with Lottie… “Could you get them?”
She snorted and muttered something about sexist attitudes, but she unshouldered the rifle and headed for the stable. When she returned, she held several lengths of heavy chain and two padlocks. “This should do it.”
He leveled a look on her that acknowledged her annoyance but didn’t give ground. “Go take care of your responsibilities, darling. Let me take care of mine.”
Chapter Six
She wasn’t a delicate flower, and Thomas Crawford was going to find that out.
Lottie kicked off her shoes and fell back on the bed, closing her eyes against the fading sunlight slanting through the curtains. They’d spent the day taking care of business, together and separately, and only the possibility that Thomas might consider her weak kept Lottie from feeling the satisfaction of hard work done.
She heard him downstairs, coming in from stabling the horses. His footsteps sounded tired on the stairs, but soon enough he was standing in the doorway, watching her quietly.
She sat up and stared at him. “I may be your responsibility, Thomas, but you’re mine too.”
“I know.” He didn’t move from the door. “Never said I wasn’t.”
“I don’t need protection.” Her hands clenched on the quilt. “I need a partner.”
Thomas frowned. “Is this because I didn’t want to leave you alone with Braswell?”
“You felt okay with me leaving you alone with him.”
He hesitated. Opened his mouth, then closed it again. After a moment he nodded. “Fair enough. I was being an overprotective ass.”
His admission surprised her, and she blinked at him. “That’s it? Just… like that?”
Thomas grinned and shoved away from the door, stalki
ng toward her with a grace only slightly impeded by his minute limp. “You disappointed? I suppose it’s not too late to go find a man like Jack. Or hell, Oliver. I heard he just about locked Hazel in a closet to keep her out of the fighting, and I doubt he’s planning on apologizing.”
The thought was enough to make her laugh. “I don’t want a man like Jack, and I sure as hell don’t want one like Oliver. But I think… I might like a man like you.”
“Don’t know what the girl sees in Oliver myself. Would’ve thought you’d have raised her with more sense, what with your obviously exquisite taste.” His shirt hit the floor and his hands fell to his belt. “I thought since your girls have taken up residence in the home I recently inherited from our alpha, you might see your way to offering me a place to stay.”
Lottie pretended to consider that as she began to unbutton her blouse. “I do have a spare room since Hazel moved out,” she teased.
“Better than the couch.” The buckle slipped open. “Unless you’re on the couch with me.”
She didn’t bother to hide her excitement, because he’d hear her quickened pulse anyway. “There’s more room in my bed, I suppose.”
Thomas stepped closer and covered her hands with his. “Was hoping maybe we could discuss an arrangement that made one of these beds into our bed.”
Lottie dropped a quick kiss to each of his hands. “You mean like how I asked you to marry me?”
“Mm-hmm.” He moved her hands and resumed unbuttoning her shirt himself. “You didn’t give me much of a chance to woo you gently, did you?”
“You did woo me gently. For months, if Ginny and Jack are to be believed.”
“Not very effectively, if you didn’t notice.”
She made a soft noise to soothe him. “I was waiting for you to ravish me. Which you are entirely welcome to do now.”
“Haven’t I ravished you enough for one week?” He undid the last button and eased her shirt open. Large hands drifted up to cup her breasts. “Can’t I make love to my future wife?”
He touched her carefully, and her breathing roughened. “Sure can… as long as you’re talking about me.”
His thumbs eased over her nipples, plying them gently. Teasing. “Don’t know who else I’d be talking about.”
“Good.” Lottie wound her arms around Thomas’s neck. She stood on her toes to feather her lips over his as the heat in her belly grew. “Then make love to me. Everything you wanted to do when you weren’t fucking me.”
Thomas chuckled and bit her lower lip softly. “We’re wolves in love, darling. There’s always going to be love in the fucking, but there’s always going to be fucking in the sweet love, too. That’s the way we are.”
She bit him back, harder and with a growl. “I’d be happy with either or both, honey, as long as you’re touching me.”
“That’s not going to stop anytime soon.” He slid his hands up to her shoulders and under the shirt, coaxing it down her arms. “You sure your hands are all healed up now?”
“Mmm.” She held them up to show him again. “But your leg could use more time. Want to lie down?”
When her shirt hit the floor he reached for his pants again, the look in his eyes hot. “Maybe. You want to be the bossy one tonight, sweetheart?”
“Maybe.” Lottie unbuttoned her skirt and let it fall. Her panties were pre-War and French, made of flimsy, filmy silk, and she moved more slowly than she had to, just to enjoy the way he watched her. “Lie down, honey.”
Moments later he was stretched out naked on her bed, fully aroused and staring at her like he couldn’t get enough of her. “You’re so gorgeous.”
His words and the intensity of his gaze made her shiver, and her breathing hitched as she tried to imagine a lifetime of having him look at her just like that. “I love you, Thomas. And the reason I’ve run from you for so long is that I was scared. Scared your reserve meant I was the only one who felt that way.”
“I have to be reserved out there.” He held out his hand and caught hers, tugging her gently toward him. “The pack needs me to be… safe. Quiet. But when we’re alone…”
He closed his eyes and she felt his power, a quiet surge that grew until it filled the room, full of hot passion and protective need. It shivered through her, and she couldn’t hold back an answering moan as wet heat gathered between her thighs and made her ready for him. “I was wrong,” she whispered as she climbed on the bed beside him. “I know that now.”
“Show me.” He traced a finger up her arm and over her breast, teasing at her nipple. “Ride me, Lottie. I want to watch you come.”
She eased over him and didn’t stop until the head of his cock was poised at her entrance. “Like this?”
He proved himself incapable of lying passively when he pinched her nipple and arched up, sinking the first few inches of his cock into her. “Oh yes.”
Lottie sucked in a rough breath and rocked down until he was completely inside her. It took her a moment to speak and, even when she did, her voice was a husky whisper. “It feels right to have you inside me.”
Thomas wrapped a hand around her hip and urged her to move with a soft tug. “Because that’s where I belong.”
She leaned over and kissed him. “It shouldn’t have taken me so long to realize that.”
Strong fingers wove into her hair and held her steady for a long, deep kiss. His tongue thrust between her lips, matching the rhythm of his hips as he rocked up into her, slow and steady.
Instead of burning hot and fast, pleasure built slowly, intensified by the way he held her, as if he’d never laid hands on anything so precious in his life. Lottie shifted her hips and gasped when the change in position sent streaks of fire spiraling through her.
“That’s it,” he murmured against her lips. Both hands tightened, forcing her to keep that angle as he moved just a little faster, a little deeper. “Feel it, Lottie.”
“Always.” She caught his lips in another desperate kiss, determined not to rush, to draw out the climb to orgasm. To show him what nights would be like in the bed they shared.
But he didn’t seem willing to let her wait. The hand in her hair moved, first to her breast where he tugged at her nipple until she bit his lip and moaned. Then lower, caressing her belly before dipping to tease between her legs.
His thumb stroked her, tiny little touches that grew firmer as she began to shake over him. She barely had time to throw back her head and gasp his name before she came, blood roaring in her ears and pleasure pulsing through her body, making her clench around his cock.
He groaned but he didn’t stop. “Again, sweetheart. You’re so damn beautiful like this…”
She shook her head and tried to speak. “I need -- need you to take me.”
A hoarse chuckle rumbled out of his chest. “Oh, honey, that’s what I’m doing. Your body is mine now.” His thumb pressed hard against her clit as he thrust up into her. “And I want you to come.”
Denying him was impossible. Lottie shrieked, and the metallic scent of blood filled her nose as her nails sank into Thomas’s chest. She heard him growl, heard her name leave his lips, and his hips drove up against her hard enough that her knees left the bed.
Her limbs wouldn’t hold her, and she collapsed against his chest. When she could finally speak again, she cursed. “I scratched you to hell and back.”
“Mmm.” His lips brushed against the top of her head. “I earned it. But I’m not taking it back. You’re mine.”
“Yours.” Happiness suffused her, and she couldn’t stop smiling. “Long engagement? I’ll be pretty busy for a while, rebuilding the saloon.”
“I’ll help you,” he promised. “Jack’s been dumping too much work on me while he hides out on Ginny’s ranch. He can just take a little bit of it back.”
She rested her cheek on his chest and bit her lip to hide her nervousness. “If you’d like, we could go ahead and get married, you know.”
He tugged at her hair and tilted her head back so she had
to meet his eyes. Then he smiled. “Tomorrow?”
Her smile widened into a grin. “Think we can pull it off?”
“Together? I think we can pull anything off.”
Lottie had never felt this kind of joy mingled with such contentment. “Better test that theory,” she observed sagely, wiggling over him.
“Oh, is that what you’re doing?” He moved fast, rolling her under his body. “Thought you were trying to drive me out of what’s left of my wits.”
“Never,” she breathed. “I like you with your wits. I like everything about you.”
Warmth feathered over her cheek as he leaned down to kiss her. His lips traced her jaw, brushed over hers, then dropped a tiny, teasing kiss to the tip of her nose. “I love everything about you.”
“Even though I’m stubborn and opinionated?”
“Because you’re stubborn and opinionated.”
“Don’t forget outspoken.”
He groaned and bit her lower lip. “Hard to forget when I’m trying to sweet talk you and you won’t shut up.”
Lottie reached up to frame his face with her hands, her heart threatening to pound out of her chest. “As long as you know what you’re getting into, honey.”
“I do, sweetheart.” Love shone in his eyes, and trust. And happiness. “What about you? You’re getting both halves of me, Charlotte. Quiet and restrained is who I have to be in the pack.”
She loved that about him, too, that he cared enough about the pack to take on the responsibility of being Jack’s second-in-command. An alpha was feared, respected, even revered, but acting as beta was often a thankless job.
And what she’d told him was true; she couldn’t have been happy with a man so used to having his unquestioned way that he never stopped to ask what she felt was best. “I love both halves of you,” she whispered softly. “I want both halves of you.”
“Then they’re yours,” he replied just as quietly. “For as long as you want me.”
Only one word came to mind. “Forever.”
About the Author
How do you make a Moira Rogers? Take a former forensic science and nursing student obsessed with paranormal romance and add a computer programmer with a passion for gritty urban fantasy. Toss in a dash of whimsy and a lot of caffeine, and enjoy with a side of chocolate by the light of the full moon.
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