Defying Destiny (10 page)

her,” Nash continued. “If you try to

frighten her again, or hurt her in any way,

you won’t get off with a warning.

Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” Zorn said, ducking his

head. Nash never handed out empty

threats.

Nash gave him one long look and then

took his Wolf form again, thankful for the

warmth his thick fur provided. How was

he supposed to convince Maralee they

weren’t animals if members of his pack

behaved as such? He quietly padded

through the forest back to his cabin and

found his clothes on the porch. Taking his

human form, he redressed quietly and then

let himself back into the house. His heart

thudded with panic when he found the rug

near the fire vacant. The rest of the house

was dark, but flickering came from the

kitchen. He took a step in that direction.

“Is that you, Nash?” Maralee called

and peeked out of the kitchen at him.

He didn’t understand why relief

lightened his chest at seeing her. He

smiled and moved towards her in several

long strides. She gasped in surprise when

he pulled her against him and claimed her

mouth with a hungry kiss. Fighting always

ignited his instinctual need to mate. He

was not likely to be safe company for an

innocent young human this evening. One

who always smelled ready to mate.

Maralee didn’t dissuade his advances.

She buried her fingers in his hair and

drew him closer, making little sounds of

pleasure in the back of her throat. He tore

his mouth away from hers and looked

down at her. He had never mated in his

human form before, and wasn’t sure how

to proceed. He knew what a Wolf would

do in such a situation.

He backed her into the round, kitchen

table. She couldn’t seem to look away

from his eyes. Hers were wide and silver

in the dim candlelight of the kitchen. He

knew he must seem feral to her, but rather

than looking afraid, she seemed intrigued

by his dominating behavior. He turned her

around and bent her over the table,

pressing her face and torso against the

unyielding wood with one large hand. He

dropped to his knees behind her and

pressed his face between her legs,

inhaling the intoxicating scent of her

woman’s flesh. Sweet heaven, her scent

awakened his lust.

“Nash?” she squeaked.

His fingers dug into her hips and he

held her still to nuzzle her through the

fabric of her pants. She shuddered but

didn’t try to stop his invasion. He hoped it

wasn’t because she was afraid of him. He

could honestly say he had never wanted

anything more in his life. As his arousal

intensified, he became aware of his human

male part lengthening, thickening, and

growing hard with need. He touched

himself with a trembling hand and backed

away from her at once. The thing was huge

and unyielding. No matter how much he

wanted to mount her, he couldn’t force that

thing into her body. It would rip her apart.

“I—I apologize,” he gasped, retreating

from kitchen. He sprinted to his room and

closed the door, leaning against it and

panting in the darkness. He doubted he’d

ever be able to face her again.

Maralee pushed herself up from the table.

The throbbing, achy moistness between

her thighs confused her. Nash confused

her. Her own behavior confused her even

more. She glanced at the doorway he’d

disappeared through. What exactly had he

been doing to her? And more importantly,

why had he stopped? Every nerve ending

in her body tingled with an unusual

awareness.

As her frustration mounted, her anger

intensified. How dare he take such

liberties with her body without asking! He

must know how upset she would be. That

must be why he was hiding from her.

Well, she wasn’t about to let him off the

hook so easily. A man couldn’t just nuzzle

a woman’s private areas that way. Right?

She wasn’t well-versed in such things, so

she wasn’t sure what went on between a

man and a woman, but surely
that
wasn’t

acceptable. They scarcely knew each

other. He had taken advantage of her. And

what was worse, she’d allowed it.

Maralee took the glowing candle stub

and marched through the house, eyes

narrowed dangerously, free hand balled

into a righteous fist. She stopped outside

his bedroom door, and pounded on it

furiously.

“I know you’re in there,” she called to

him, her voice raised in anger. “Just what

did you think you were doing?”

He didn’t answer her. She pounded on

the door again and then pressed her ear up

against it, listening. She could hear his

ragged breathing.

“What are you doing in there?”

“N-nothing,” he replied breathlessly.

There was a long pause, during which,

neither of them made a sound. “Go away!”

he demanded finally.

“I’m not going away until you

apologize.”

“I already apologized.”

“That wasn’t a proper apology.”

The door burst open and he glared at

her angrily, his eyes glowing gold in the

candlelight. “I’m sorry,” he bellowed, and

then slammed the door in her face.

She made an exasperated sound and

stormed away from the door and back to

the kitchen. She’d been about to prepare

dinner before she had been so rudely

—
blissfully
—distracted. To hell with him

and his contradictory behaviors, she was

hungry. As soon as she ate, she would

demand repossession of her sword. And

then she was going back to Sarbough and

hoped she never saw the man again.

A small door in the kitchen led to a

cold room. Inside, she found every kind of

game meat imaginable and selected two

large venison steaks from his abundant

stock. With a little more searching

Maralee discovered there was absolutely

nothing in the kitchen to round off the

meal. It was as if the man was a

carnivore. Hadn’t he ever heard of a

potato? She lit a fire in the stove with a

long match and settled for broiling the

steaks. Perhaps with a little food in her

belly, she would return to a rational state

of mind.

Nash was wise to shut himself in his

room while she remained hostile. Still,

she couldn’t understand why he’d stopped.

Couldn’t he tell she had liked what he was

doing to her? Should she have told him

that she wanted to feel his mouth against

her there? Because she had. She’d been

cursing the presence of her pants. She’d

never been with a man before. She wasn’t

sure if his behavior had been abnormal or

mundane. All she knew is that she’d

wanted it. Wanted... whatever it was he

had been initiating. If he would have just

asked her, she would have encouraged

him to continue. Perhaps he had wanted

her to resist. Her aunt had told her men

did not like easy women. They enjoyed the

hunt more than the prize. Maybe Aunt

Bailey had been right.

When the steaks were done, she went

back to Nash’s room and knocked lightly

on the door.

“Are you hungry?” she asked, calmly.

“Dinner is ready.”

After a moment, he opened the door,

his face flushed with embarrassment. He

was looking less like a wild animal and

more like the respectable man she was

quickly growing to admire.

“I really am sorry about my behavior,”

he said, avoiding her eyes. “I don’t know

what came over me.”

“Forget it,” she said.

“You forgive me?”

“Why wouldn’t I? Nothing really

happened.” She sounded a hell of a lot

calmer and self-assured than she felt.

He breathed a sigh of relief. “Did you

cook?”

She nodded, and he smiled, still

flushed, but at least he was able to meet

her eyes now. What an intriguing man of

contradictions. Aggressive one minute,

passive the next. She suspected he would

never cease to amaze her. She wasn’t sure

which she liked better—his dominating,

out of control side or his tender,

levelheaded side. It wasn’t important, she

decided. They were both a part of the

same man and she had to admit she liked

all of him.

“Have you ever heard of a potato?”

she asked as they walked back to the

kitchen.

“Potato?” he echoed, pausing with

thought. “Isn’t that some sort of tuber?”

She laughed. He did love to tease her.

“All I could find to cook was meat.”

He glanced at her, seeming sincerely

confused. “Is there something wrong with

that?”

She scratched her head. “Well, I guess

not; if you’re a carnivore. People,

however, are omnivores.”

“I suppose,” he agreed. “We could go

to Sarbough tomorrow and purchase some

plant products for your satisfaction.”

She laughed again. “You’re a funny

guy, Nash.”

“Funny ha-ha or funny strange?”

“Both.”

“I’m not quite used to your ways

either. I apologize in advance for doing

anything you would consider uncouth.”

She looked up at him and she could

see he was trying to understand her, just as

she was trying to understand him. “Stop

apologizing to me, Nash. I like you fine

the way you are. Just be yourself.”

She expected this to put him at ease,

but it seemed to make him even more

nervous. “Be myself,” he whispered. He

glanced at her briefly before staring down

at the floor. “I just don’t think you’re

ready for that yet.”

She shook her head, at a loss once

again. “You’re being funny strange again.”

“Sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.”

“Sorry.”

“Nash!” she admonished.

“Sorry.” He laughed uneasily, and

raked a hand through his hair. The lock of

white hair partially covering his left eye

moved

aside

momentarily,

before

returning to rest in its previous position. “I

could use a cigarette.” He glanced at her

for her reaction.

“If it will calm you down, by all

means, smoke ten of them.”

“But you’ve prepared dinner. It would

be rude to let it grow cold.”

“It’s better than watching you twitch

like you have a nervous condition.”

“I suppose,” he agreed, taking a deep

breath. “I’ll only be a minute.”

He headed for the door, grabbing his

long leather coat from a hook before going

out onto the porch. She sighed, hoping his

cigarette would allow him to collect

himself. Apparently she wasn’t the only

one who’d been unsettled by their brief

encounter on the kitchen table. Maralee

returned to the kitchen and rummaged

around, looking for utensils. She found

several knives, but no forks or spoons.

She poured two cups of clean water from

a large pitcher and had just sat down to

start on her steak when the front door

opened. She heard Nash remove his coat

and place it on the hook, before his

footsteps crossed the living area and he

appeared in the doorway of the kitchen.

His expression was unreadable in the dim

light given off by the candle.

“I couldn’t find any forks,” she said.

“Forks,” he murmured as if he had

never heard the word before.

“To eat with.”

“Don’t you eat with your mouth?” he

asked her, tilting his head to the side as he

assessed her. He moved forward and sat

down across from her at the table. He

carried the mild fragrance of smoke with

him. She took a deep breath through her

nose to draw in his scent.

“Well, of course,” she said, grinning

broadly, “but you put the food into your

mouth with a fork.”

“That’s what fingers are for.”

She paused, thinking he was joking at

first and realized he was being completely

serious. She nodded then. “Right,” she