Heart of the wolf (33 page)

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Authors: Lindsay Mckenna

Tags: #General, #Romance, #Fiction

BOOK: Heart of the wolf
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From his left, he heard a whine. Skeet! When he'd fallen over the ledge, he'd lost his dog. Getting shakily to Ms
hands
and knees, Wolf saw the animal appear out of the darkness, limping toward him. His eyes narrowed.
Sarah!
Her name nearly tore from Ms
lips
as he rose unsteadily and turned to meet her. An incredible avalanche of relief shattered through him, ripping away at his raw feelings and exposing his love for her.

Sarah jerked to a halt as a hulking shadow rose from the darkened ground. A scream nearly left her throat. And then she recognized Wolf. With a little cry, she flung herself forward, her arms open.

The instant Sarah hurled herself into Wolf's awaiting arms, she realized he was injured. She heard him groan her name close to her ear, his arms going around her like tight bands of protection. He held her close, and she pressed her head against his chest wall, a sob coming from her.

"It's all right," Wolf rasped thickly. "It's all right. . . ." And it was. Just the special scent of Sarah, and the
feei
of her thin but strong arms going around Ms
waist
in
welcome, was enough. Wolf pressed a series of hungry, quick kisses against her tangled hair, her cheek,
then
searched wildly for her mouth. The instant she turned her face upward and their lips met, Wolf hungrily claimed her.

The world, the danger, ceased to exist, if only for a few moments. Sarah lost herself in Wolf's searching, heated mouth. Immersed in a kaleidoscope of surprise and pleasure, she sank against him.

"I love you," he said hoarsely, pulling back and drowning in her tear-filled eyes. There was no need for further words, Wolf realized humbly as tears streaked down Sarah's grimy features. He framed her face with his shaking hands, touching her as if he didn't know whether she was real or a fevered figment of his tortured imagination.

"You're alive. . . ." Sarah choked out. "Oh, Wolf. . ."

He touched her lips with his fingers to silence her. Holding her tight, he lifted his head and began to search the darkness. Wolf was relying on his dog's acute hearing and
smell
more than anything else. Skeet sat nearby, alert, through his silence telling them they were safe—if but for a moment. Removing his fingers from her lips, Wolf touched Sarah's hair. There were so many pine needles in the fine golden strands that they'd have to be removed by hand, not with a comb.

The moment Sarah's hand came to rest on Wolf's shirt, she gasped. The wet, sticky stuff was blood. Her eyes widened enormously as she drew away from him and saw the dark stain across his belly.

"You're
hurt. . . ."

"Just a graze.
I'm okay. Sarah, we've got to get out of here."

Shaken, Sarah couldn't tear her gaze from his wound.
A graze?
Half the shirt was bloodied, and it was
tora
where the bullet had ripped into the.
fabric
. She remembered that Wolf was a mercenary by
trade, that
his soldiering instincts were finely honed, but nevertheless he was surely in pain.

Taking Sarah's hand, Wolf squeezed it to get her attention.
"Your feet?"

"
Th
-they're fine."

"Sore?"

"A little."

"What do you mean, a little?"

Wetting her lips, Sarah tried to think coherently. "I—
They
hurt, Wolf, but I can walk on them."

Convinced she was telling the truth, Wolf looked around. "I don't know where
Summers
and his gang are anymore. I blacked out after
I
fell over that ledge."

Sarah eyed the jagged rock far above them. A chill swept through her. Wolf was far tougher, and far luckier, than any man had a right to be, and she was grateful for that. Holding his hand tight, she whispered, "I don't know where
Summers
is, either. I haven't heard them for over an hour."

Nodding, Wolf checked out Skeet. The dog remained passive, and he was sure none of their enemies, were close. "Are you hurt in any way?"

Sarah shook her head. "No. . .
Noonaa
jumped me from behind, but when he tried to cuff me
I
broke free." She gave a wobbly smile. "1 was never so scared—
But
I was more scared for you. They were firing those rifles in your direction, Wolf." '

Relief came on the heels of Wolf's terror over Sarah's trembling admission. More than anything, he wanted to hold her and keep her safe. She was shaking like a leaf. But then, so was he. There were several small scratches across her brow and cheek, plus a bruise on the side of her neck. He wanted to kill Noonan. Realizing that he was gripping Sarah's small hand too tightly, Wolf released her.

"We have to get to the cabin."

"Yes."

"I don't know how far we are from it," Wolf admitted,

"It doesn't matter. We have to make it."

His mouth pulled into a sour grimace, "We'll go slow and quiet, honey. Skeet will be our ears and nose," Stroking her hair, he saw her rally at his barely whispered words. Sarah had courage, true courage.

"Let's go," she said, and gripped his large hand once again.

Wolf swiveled his head and caught Skeet'
s
attention. Instantly the dog was on his feet and hobbling out in front of them. There was little brush between the huge Douglas firs, so it was relatively easy to walk hand in hand with Sarah. Slowly Wolf's heart settled down into a steady rhythm again. He still had his rifle and ammunition. The odds were against them, but they definitely had a chance.

As Wolf guided Sarah through the maze of darkened trees, his thoughts moved back in time. Back to Peru, to the fact that Maria and her people hadn't stood a chance against Ramirez and his men. At least Sarah was alive and had escaped. A resolve more powerful than any emotion he'd
eyer
felt in his life tunneled through him. Even if he had
io
die in the process, he was going to make
sure that Sarah wasn't hurt or captured by Summers. This time, things were going to work out.

They were resting beneath a huge tree when the muted sound of gunshots echoed in the distance. Sarah stiffened, and instantly she felt Wolf's arm tighten around her shoulders. Both of them looked toward where the sounds had originated from.

"What do you think?" Sarah asked in a low voice. They'd taken a break from their walking to catch their breath. She knew Wolf had done it for her, not for himself.

Wolf stirred. "Probably Summers. His men are jumpy, and a deer might have made them start shooting."

Hope sprang through Sarah as she leaned forward on her crossed legs. "How far do you think we are from the cabin?"

Wolf shrugged. "I don't know." He gazed down at her uplifted features. Exhaustion was written across Sarah's face.
"Could be a mile or so.
We scattered and ran, so it's hard to tell. I want to get to the road, because it'll be easier going." He added grimly, "We can't walk on the road, though, because
Summers
and his men might be waiting to ambush us again. We'll parallel it from the safety of the tree line."

With a sigh, Sarah relaxed against Wolf's body and pressed her brow against his shoulder. "I wish we could sleep
__
"

Leaning over, he pressed a kiss to her hair. "I know."

"But we can't." Sarah slid her hand around his waist. The bleeding from the bullet that had grazed his torso had finally stopped, much to her relief.

Getting to his feet, Wolf growled, "No." The last thing he wanted to do was leave. After admitting his love to Sarah, all he wanted was to know her reaction. Had she even heard his words? Wolf felt terribly unsure, and he was trying to combat the feeling of panic deep within him. Gently he helped Sarah stand.

"By the time we get back to the cabin, it's going to be dawn," he told her in a hushed tone. Picking several pine needles from her mussed hair, he smiled and held her shadowed eyes.

Then he placed his arm around her shoulders, drew her near and whispered, "Let's go. Dawn will shed new light on the situation."

Sarah nodded, feeling numb inside. The shots worried her. Who had fired them? Were
Summers
and his men hanging around, waiting for them to appear? Everything seemed so tentative, so extraordinarily fragile.

Sarah halted, her heart beating in triple time. "Wolf?"

He frowned and halted. Automatically his hand went to her arm. She looked forlorn.
Frightened.

"What? What is it, honey?"

Just the endearment gave Sarah the courage she needed. "Wolf. . .
I. . .
I'm scared, and I love you—" There—the words were out. She stared up into his craggy, drawn features, her breath jammed in her throat. Croaking, Sarah forced out the rest of what had been begging to be said. "I—I know it's too soon, that we haven't known each other very long, but I have to tell you how I feel. I didn't want to trust you, to care about you, but
I
couldn't help it. I was afraid to admit I loved you, because I was so afraid I'd lose you
  
" Sarah
looked down at the ground and bit her lower lip. "I still might," she said with a sob. "Inside, I feel so vulnerable and
frightened that we could die at any moment." Afraid that she'd said too much, or hadn't said it right, Sarah halted. It took every last bit of her courage to lift her head to see the effect her words had on Wolf.

Trying to steel herself against possible rejection, Sarah lifted her lashes to meet and hold his hooded stare. In that instant, she knew that even if Wolf rejected her she would never love another man as she loved him. No one could possibly match Wolf in stature, in his understanding and complete acceptance of her. But was the love he'd professed to her earlier a fleeting thing?
An affair?
Sarah couldn't stand that thought. Her feelings ran too deep, and she looked at commitment as a long-term thing.

Wolf raised his hands to Sarah's face. There was such hope and anguish in her eyes. Tears jammed his, and he didn't try to hide his reaction to her low, unsteady admission.

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