Taming the Lone Wolff

by Janice Maynard

  “Stand up, honey.”

  With Winnie looking at him, big-eyed, he removed her socks and shoes and then gently stripped her shorts and underwear down slim, firm legs. Leaving her to her own devices a moment, he pulled his shirt over his head, unzipped his jeans and pushed his pants and boxers to his knees. His erection sprang forth, hungry and tall.

  Winnie’s mesmerized stare did wonders for his ego. He grabbed a condom from his pocket and rolled it on. “Come here, Jane,” he said with a grin. That was something new. Humor and lust all in one moment. Winnie made him smile, even when he was so damned aroused, he ached from head to toe.

  She raised an eyebrow. “There’s no room to lie down.”

  “We’re not going to lie down.” Her look of dawning surprise swamped him with tenderness. He took her wrist and pulled her forward to straddle his hips. The sun-warmed cushion at his back felt welcoming. But when Winnie lowered herself onto him, hands braced on his shoulders, he felt at home. As though every dark shadow that had ever cloaked Wolff Mountain suddenly floated away on the breeze.

  Her tight passage gripped him, causing sweat to break out on his forehead. The snug fit was incredible, making his head swim. He gripped her ass, trying not to lose control. “God, Winnie. I can’t get enough of you.” Slowly, he began to move. She caught his rhythm immediately, lifting and lowering in a lazy dance.

  She inhaled sharply when he changed angles.

  “You like that?”

  She nodded, mute.

  He buried his face between her breasts and inhaled the warm scent of her skin. No woman had ever made him feel like this, young and carefree, as though all of his past had been erased and life consisted of only this one perfect moment.

  Sliding his hands up to her waist, he rocked her, feeling the way her thighs pressed against his, hearing the way her breathing labored as he drove her higher.

  “Say something,” he muttered. His bed partners were usually more vocal. Winnie’s silence piqued him, made him wonder what she was thinking.

  She bounced experimentally, and he cursed as the added stimulation sent him careening toward the end. “Winnie…”

  “Can’t speak…finish it…” She leaned to one side, took his earlobe in her teeth and nipped it hard enough to make him shiver as the combination of pain and pleasure shot through his veins like a drug.

  His arms locked around her waist, his hips thrust upward and he gave a muffled shout as his climax grabbed him without warning and tumbled him in a never-ending wave. Winnie came, too. He heard and felt her release. But after that, all he could do was slump into the sofa and try to remember how to breathe.

  * * *

  Winnie’s bottom was cold. And the muscles in her legs trembled. She lay sprawled on top of Larkin in a position that could only be described as immodest. But she couldn’t find the strength to care. Larkin’s heart thudded beneath her cheek, the beat steady, strong.

  The euphoria of physical release faded as she acknowledged the painful truth. She had fallen in love with a lone Wolff. Holding him now, with no one to see, no one to care, was the most exquisite pleasure she’d ever experienced. Everything about him was admirable. In the faces of his family she saw love and respect for him. Even back in Nashville she had noted the caliber of his employees and the deference with which they spoke to him.

  How would she ever be able to walk away? But she had no choice. It wasn’t as if she could stay and fight. He had told her from the beginning that he liked his life as it was. And if she truly cared for him, she would do the right thing and leave. No regrets. Surely a man who had suffered as much as Larkin had growing up deserved a time of peace.

  His hand toyed with her hair, curling it around his fingers. When his fingers brushed her neck, she shivered. “Shouldn’t we get dressed before someone discovers us?” she said.

  He tickled her lower back. “I don’t think I can move.” The deep, drugged satisfaction in the words told her that he had felt the same incredible connection that still bound them both physically and otherwise.

  Clumsily, she levered herself up and off him. With his tousled hair, his bare chest and his…um…manly parts on display, he looked like what he was, a charming, sinfully attractive multimillionaire. It was odd, though, that she seldom thought of Larkin as being wealthy. His down-to-earth approach to life matched hers. And she liked that about him.

  Though she tried to dress quickly, Larkin’s appreciative scrutiny made her hands fumble. Her underwear ended up inside out, but she left it that way, anxious to be fully clothed. At last, he stood up, dealt with the condom and readjusted his boxers and pants. He yawned and stretched. His chest was beautiful…smooth and tanned and rippled with sleek muscles. A thin line of hair bisected his chest and ran down to his belt buckle. She knew how silky that hair was, and where it led.

  Sitting on the settee to put on her shoes, she looked up at him. “We promised we’d help decorate. I don’t want your sister sending out a search party.”

  “You’re right.” He shrugged into his shirt and ran his hands through his short hair. “We might as well get it over with.” He reached for her one more time and kissed her forehead. “But tonight you’re mine—right?”

  Winnie laughed ruefully. “After what happened just now, do you really think I’ll say no to you later?”

  Larkin’s grin was wicked. He squeezed her butt. “Who knows? Women are capricious creatures.”

  Winnie wasn’t about to get into a battle she was destined to lose. Already today she had let him talk her into sex when she’d been convinced it was a bad idea. She really didn’t have a leg to stand on.

  Larkin insisted on descending the ladder first. Which meant his big arms surrounded her as she backed down. Thus giving him a far-too-close vantage point of her legs and other parts. When she stood on the landing, his eyes were hot. “What if I can’t wait until tonight?” He backed her into the ladder, his hips anchoring hers. “It won’t take long.”

  She realized he was serious. And his need and hunger did something to her insides. A combination of smug happiness and desperate yearning filled her like a helium balloon. For a man like Larkin Wolff to want her so badly healed a few of the rough edges of her youthful pain.

  Before she could answer one way or the other, a man’s voice sounded from below. “I know you’re up there. Come on, you two. Annalise is breathing fire because we’re all late.”

  Winnie looked down, way down, at the top of Kieran’s head. “We’re coming,” she called, tugging at Larkin’s hand and heading for the next ladder.

  “I would have been coming,” he groused, his voice pitched low enough so only she could hear. “If he hadn’t interrupted.”

  “Behave,” Winnie whispered. “This will be fun.”

  Decorating the outdoor tent for Sam’s birthday was definitely a family affair. The weather couldn’t have been more perfect, and the forecast for Saturday was identical. This was a milestone birthday for Sam, so Annalise had bought every inch of black crepe paper in Virginia, or so it seemed. There were balloons to blow up, satin ribbon swags to design and hang, and all around the room, black-and-white photos of Sam. Sam as a kid with his dad at Wolff Mountain, Sam on his college graduation day and one poignant picture of Sam standing with the Wolff boys in front of the castle. Annalise appeared just in the edge of the picture, her gaze trained on the man she would one day marry.

  Even though Annalise could have been only sixteen or seventeen when the photo was shot, the heart-wrenching look on her face was entirely adult. The naked emotion in her eyes was one Winnie understood all too well. In fact, the picture made her so uncomfortable she turned her back on it and walked away to another part of the tent.

  Devlyn Wolff joined her as she assembled small posies of white roses and tucked them into ebony lacquer vases that would serve as table centerpieces. To her surprise, he pretended to help her, though his big hands mutilated the flowers. “I think you’d better let me do this,” she said, waving him off.r />
  He perched on top of the table where she was working, his feet propped on a chair. A big, handsome man, he exuded charm and sex appeal, though Winnie was immune. As the head of Wolff Enterprises, his responsibilities were legion, yet here he was in the midst of a family gathering, seemingly content to be frittering away a Friday afternoon.

  He handed her a tiny black ribbon she had dropped. “You do realize that my brother has never brought a woman here before.”

  Winnie shot him a glance. “So I’ve heard.”

  “You must have made an impression on him. This is his private space.”

  “Your brother is a kind, generous man. I needed a place to hide out, and he offered to bring me here.”

  “He went through a bimbo phase in college and shortly after.”

  Winnie grinned. “I’ve heard that, too. Trust me. I won’t do anything to harm your baby brother.”

  Every ounce of humor disappeared from his face. “It’s you I’m worried about, Winnie. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

  “Everyone keeps telling me that, including Larkin. It’s okay. I get it. We’re just having fun.” She added that last part because surely the Wolffs were smart enough to realize something was going on. His family seemed to know him better than he realized.

  Devlyn glanced across the chaos that was the large white tent where Sam’s party would take place. “He takes too much upon himself. Tries to fix things that aren’t his to fix.”

  “He told me a little about your childhood. Before the mountain. It hurt me to hear it, but I suppose you realize it’s still fresh on his mind.”

  “It is for me and Annalise, too,” he said, his gaze focused on something far away that she couldn’t see. “I don’t think you ever really forget something like that. We’ve grown up. And figured out that few families resemble a Norman Rockwell painting. Annalise and I have been lucky enough to find partners who love us and accept who we are, scars and all.”

  “But…”

  He shrugged. “But Larkin suffered in different ways than I did. Emotional trauma can be as bad or worse than the physical.”

  She was well aware of that. “He’s made a good life for himself.”

  “Alone.”

  “Yes.”

  “So you’re aware of the danger.”

  “I could fall in love with him, and he could walk away.”

  “Exactly.”

  Winnie finished the last of the vases and began filling them with water. “I appreciate your concern, Devlyn—I really do. But I’m not the naive person I may appear to be. I understand Larkin better than you think. So thanks for the warning, but I’m okay.”

  He set the chair aside and stood up. “I wish I could be more encouraging. You fit in here on the mountain.”

  She arched her back, stretching out the kinks, hands on her hips. “I always knew my relationship with Larkin was a fleeting thing. He envies you all, I think. But not enough to take on the burden of marriage.”

  “Marriage isn’t a burden.”

  “Maybe not for you.”

  “Take care of yourself, and take care of him.”

  “What if those two things are mutually exclusive?”

  Devlyn flicked her ponytail. “You’re a smart woman. Figure it out.”

  Seventeen

  Larkin stood atop a wobbly ladder, winding little white lights around the central tent pole. His stomach pitched when Annalise, below him, accidentally bumped his perch. Heights made him queasy, and he was anxious to get this job done. It hadn’t escaped his notice that Winnie and his brother were getting very chummy.

  When he clambered back down to terra firma, Annalise beamed at him. “Thanks, bro.”

  His baby sister was happy all the time these days. And her sharp-edged tongue had mellowed considerably. It was a disconcerting, but enjoyable change. “You might want to rein in our sibling,” he said. “He seems to be flirting with Winnie.”

  “Jealous much?” Annalise snorted. “If Gillian isn’t concerned, why should I be?”

  “Forget I mentioned it,” he said grumpily. “Give me another string of lights and help me move this ladder.”

  * * *

  By dinnertime Larkin was like a cat on hot bricks. The day had turned into one long pre-celebration. The entire family converged at the main house after the decorating, and didn’t leave. The children were included at tonight’s meal. Which meant that adult conversation was limited in favor of laughing at the antics of a toddler and an infant.

  Little Cammie took her role as older cousin very seriously, and jumped up time and again to retrieve baby spoons, pick up toys and rescue Cheerios before they were ground into the priceless Oriental rug that ran the length and width of the dining room.

  Larkin bantered back and forth with his relatives, all the while keeping a covert eye on Winnie. She was holding her own. The semi-organized insanity of a Wolff family meal was not for the faint of heart. But Winnie’s shyness had melted away amid the unselfconscious joie de vivre of the evening’s reunion.

  As he surveyed the room, Larkin marveled inwardly at how far they had come as a family. Tragedy had brought them to this place, but love and acceptance kept them here.

  He touched Winnie’s knee beneath the Irish linen tablecloth, leaning over to be heard as he whispered in her ear. “Not exactly dinner at a five-star restaurant, is it?”

  She smiled at him. “I adore your family,” she said. “I stand by what I said earlier. You’re a very lucky man.”

  “They like you.” He wanted to say more than that, but he was still processing the words and feelings in his head.

  “I like them, too. I’m so glad you brought me to the mountain.” She was wearing another dress that made him sweat. Tonight’s meal was more casual, and Winnie had chosen her wardrobe accordingly. But the cheerful halter-necked sundress in black-and-white check with appliquéd daisies left a lot of bare skin on display.

  He draped an arm across the back of her chair, running his fingers lightly over the nape of her neck. “Are you wearing anything under that outfit?”

  She lowered her voice, her attention ostensibly still on the table at large. “Why don’t you find out?”

  Her teasing question made him choke. He took a sip of wine, wiped his mouth with his napkin and moved his fingers three inches up her thigh. Winnie’s virtually inaudible whimper hardened his sex instantly.

  He’d had some bad ideas in his life, but this one ranked right up there at the top. Even so, to remove his hand from her smooth, bare leg was impossible. Winnie was seated to his left, so he was able to use his right hand to maintain the fiction of eating. Any interest he’d had in food had evaporated long ago.

  Gradually, making sure no one could see, he inched his hand upward. A flush broke out on Winnie’s fair cheeks, but she didn’t react otherwise. He found the lacy edge of her panties and grinned, barely moving his lips as he leaned his head toward hers and mouthed in her ear. “I knew it. You’re such a good little girl. No going commando for you.”

  Victor Wolff, seated in his usual spot at the head of the table, eyed them with a gimlet stare. “Enough of that, Larkin Wolff. Behave yourself. Quit whispering sweet nothings in Winnie’s ear.”

  Larkin straightened abruptly and put both his hands on the table. He felt his own neck heat. For a moment there, he’d thought the old man had X-ray vision.

  Winnie was visibly amused at his mortification. “Busted,” she murmured as she leaned down to pick up the napkin that Larkin’s antics had dislodged.

  Larkin wiped a hand over his damp forehead. He couldn’t take much more of this. When he glanced at his watch, he saw that it was almost eight-thirty. Dessert was just being served…pound cake with imported strawberries and fresh cream. His favorite.

  He shoved his chair from the table and stood up. The big group was so rowdy, he had to shout twice. “Hey. Hey, you crazy people.”

  Finally, all heads turned in his direction. He cleared his throat. “Winnie and I hav
e really enjoyed hanging out with everyone today, but I promised her a walk to Wolff Point tonight.”

  Winnie looked up at him. “But we—”

  He kicked her foot. “So if you’ll excuse us, we’ll say good-night and see everyone in the morning.”

  The chorus of goodbyes and teasing innuendos was never-ending. By the time he got Winnie out into the hallway, he was breathing hard.

  She tugged on his arm. “What was that all about? You took me to Wolff Point last night. Are we going again?”

  In the front hallway, he caught a glimpse of his face in the ornate mirror over the console table. His eyes glittered with feverish intent. Staring down at the woman who had turned his world upside down, he shook his head, reeling from the revelations that came thick and fast.

  “No,” he said, his voice blunt and harsh. “I’m going to make love to you.” God help him. And in thirty-six hours he was going to walk away. If he had the strength. Bringing her here had been a mistake. Because he’d now had a vision of how his life could be, but the consequences were unthinkable. If he gave in to the lure of Winnie’s pure, sweet tenderness, he’d be committed. Forever. Imagining that responsibility scared him to the point of nausea. He couldn’t love her and fail her. Love her and lose her. He’d rather endure the prospect of a sterile life alone, insulated from pain.

  He knew love and he knew loss. His way was better. His way was the only choice.

  * * *

  Winnie trailed in his wake, propelled by his urgency. Despite the enjoyable family dinner, she was as eager to be alone, just the two of them, as Larkin seemed to be. He didn’t waste time asking questions about location. Edging open her door with his hip, he dragged her inside.

  Finally—a lock between them and the outside world—he paused to catch his breath. The hands he ran up and down her arms held a slight tremor. “You were wrong,” he muttered.