Read Lone Wolf's Captive (novella) Online
Authors: Sherilee Gray
Lone Wolf's Captive (novella)
Sherilee Gray
Sherilee Gray
He let her father chase him off once, but this time
nothing
is getting in his way.
Fletcher Stone was forced out of the pack life, and now he makes his living as a hired thug, living day-to-day without honour or commitments. Shame over his choices and his lifestyle keep him from returning to the pack to claim Delaney
—
the woman who holds his heart. But when a rival pack hires him to kidnap her, Fletcher takes his chance. Now he must convince her that he never wanted to leave…and reveal a betrayal that will break her heart.
Delaney Jones has spent the last five years convinced the man she loves is dead. Nothing else would keep him from her. So when Fletcher shows up, whole, healthy, and very much alive, she’s devastated
—
and pissed off. He broke her heart once and he’s never going to get close enough to do it again.
Sherilee’s always had a big (some may say warped) imagination, and as a kid scared herself conjuring up horror stories full of terrifying creatures. Now all grown up, she still has the big imagination, and she still has monsters in her stories… only now they’re chasing their happily ever after. Based in beautiful New Zealand with her extremely supportive husband and their two children, she spends her time writing and fueling her voracious book addiction.
Firstly, to my friends and family, you’ll never know how much your support and encouragement means to me. Thanks for understanding that sometimes I have to check out of the real world to visit my imaginary ones. And a huge thanks to my awesome beta readers Melissa Cryer, Nicola Davidson and Kelly Graham. You guys rock.
For Vaughan who believed in me from the very beginning. I love you, babe. And to Kelly, thanks for making me laugh till I cry, and for being my awesome big sister. If you hadn’t convinced me to read that first book, I wouldn’t be writing this now.
Bestselling Titles by Escape Publishing…
Fletcher Stone tapped out a rapid beat on the steering wheel then glanced down at the big hand for the hundredth time. Was the fucker even moving? He lifted the watch to his ear. Nope, battery hadn’t gone flat—more like he’d lost his ever lovin’ mind.
God, he hated the city, boxed in like a damn prison cell. All this steel and concrete was giving him an eye twitch. His wolf reared up, clawed at his subconscious, wanting to break free, to run off this closed in, edgy feeling.
He forced it back and focused on keeping his conflicted emotions in check. There was no going back now. His gut churned with anticipation and, he could admit, a good dose of fear. It’d been so long since he’d allowed himself to feel much of anything and the now constant, erratic pounding of his heart was making him light headed.
Dropping his gaze, he watched the last fifteen seconds tick by then glanced up. Right on cue, Delaney Jones pushed through the glass double doors of Black Hills Consultancy, like her body clock was hard wired to the wall-mounted digital in the foyer.
“Laney.” Her name rushed past his lips, forcing all the oxygen from his lungs.
Time hadn’t diminished the effect she had on him. That winded, achy feeling he got when he looked at her was right there, front and centre.
He watched her step out onto the street. She’d always been punctual, even when they were kids. She’d never be so rude as to leave her keepers waiting.
Only today they weren’t coming. Their Escalade should be smoking up a storm, having broken down on the side of the road by now.
Studying her face, he couldn’t believe how little she’d changed. And he should know. Every detail remained etched into his memory, never dimming or fading from the last time he’d seen her.
She looked relaxed and sexy in jeans, boots and a fluffy pink sweater. Her thick, multihued hair was pulled back in a messy bun and he could see at least two pens poking out of the heavy mass.
Irritation rose at the sight of her standing there, so defenceless, so sheltered. A casual observer would never suspect the casually dressed female, currently head down, studying a pile of dog-eared papers was the CEO of a highly successful IT security company.
Thanks to Delaney’s hard work and vision, the she-wolf and her people were thriving. The Black Hills pack had every luxury and modern convenience available, which made her a prize addition to any one of the surrounding packs, and the reason her father kept her on lockdown or had her followed around by goons.
For the first time in his life, Fletch was thankful for the grim reputation he’d more than earned. Brody, the alpha of nearby Oakwood, had wanted this job done by the best and Fletch was without doubt the best. It wasn’t something he was proud of, but he couldn’t change the past. If that were possible, well…a lot of things would have turned out differently.
How would she react when she saw him?
In a few moments he’d know the answer to a question that had given him more sleepless nights than he could count.
He continued to watch her, oblivious to her surroundings. Completely absorbed in her reading. Just like Brody said she would be. The bastard was right. Living under her father’s constant watch had made her one hell of an easy target. Her complacency made him grit his teeth so hard he was surprised he didn’t lose a fang.
Shoving on a pair of sunglasses and yanking down the ball cap he’d
acquired
, Fletch climbed out of his truck. The clothes he’d stolen from her minders, after he’d poured sugar in their fuel tank, were not his usual thing. He’d never worn slacks in his life, but their stench should at least mask his scent long enough to get her moving. He didn’t hesitate and strode towards the oblivious female. She offered up a distracted ‘hey’ when he reached her side. Still, she didn’t even lift her head.
“This way.” Fletch attempted to soften his tone, though he didn’t sound anything like the naïve twenty-one year old he’d been when they’d last been together. He knew from experience the way he sounded now unnerved some people.
He lightly gripped her elbow, warmth seeped through her soft sweater, searing his palm. He sucked in a breath, taking in a lungful of her familiar, exquisite scent.
Jesus.
She continued reading, assuming he was one of her keepers. He didn’t know how she did it, but she never lifted her head once and allowed him to guide her towards his truck.
This whole abduction thing was going a hell of a lot easier than he thought it would, thanks to her complete lack of self-preservation.
They reached his truck and he pulled the door open for her. Delaney threw her bag in then climbed up. Head still down, she flicked over the top sheet of paper and continued to study whatever it was that had her so engrossed.
Fletch went around to the driver’s side, flung the cap and glasses in the back, climbed in and sliding the keys into the ignition, sat back to wait.
Holy shit
. His heart felt like a jack hammer trying to break through his ribcage.
Come on, look at me, baby.
A lock of reddish-brown silk slid down to rest against her cheek and she bit her lip. He wanted to reach out, brush it behind her ear and trail his fingers down her smooth, satin skin.
When she finished reading her page, she didn’t turn to the next. No, her shoulders tensed, her entire body going rigid. Little lines crinkled her nose and she took a delicate sniff.
Five, four, three, two…
A ragged gasp filled the silence, and the sheets of paper clutched in her hands slipped from her fingers, tumbling to the floor.
“Fletch?” Her eyes remained focused on a spot by her feet.
“Yeah.” He clenched his fists to stop from reaching for her.
He didn’t know how this would play out. Five years was a fucking long time. It cost him, but he managed to school his features and wait for her to make the next move.
Her head snapped up, amber eyes wide. “Fletch?” Scrambling to her knees, she slammed her back against the door, staring at him like she couldn’t quite believe he was real, like she was looking at a ghost.
He stared back, letting her get over the shock of seeing him, doing his best to mask the hurricane ripping him to shreds on the inside.
The longest damn minutes of his shitty life.
A pained sound tore from her throat and without another word, she pounced, landing in his lap and wrapping her arms around his neck.
Stunned, he sat completely still as she nuzzled at his neck and jaw, alternating between drawing in his scent and raining smacking kisses all over his face and neck. Then all intelligible thought dissolved at the press of Delaney’s soft curves against him.
Oh God, she felt good, so damn good. He curled his fingers around her hips, loving the way her strong thighs bracketed his. Her soft hair brushed his cheek and he turned into it, burying his nose, holding her to him and overloading his senses with her familiar, delicate scent.
She thrust her fingers into his overgrown hair, nails lightly scraping against his scalp.
Oh yeah.
If he’d been in wolf form his tail would be wagging hard enough to cause a tornado. As it was, stopping his foot from thumping against the floor was hard enough.
His eyes rolled to the back of his head. It was hard, but he managed to keep his tongue in his head and his panting to a minimum as she continued to run her fingers over his scalp and through his hair. He needed to say something, but the way her curvy body moved against his was making it impossible to form a coherent sentence.
“It’s really you?”
With her head tucked under his chin, her lips brushed against his throat, making his skin tingle. She was killing him. “Yeah, Sugar. It’s me.”
“You’re not dead,” she whispered. The subtle contact of those lips moving on him again had his body trembling beneath hers. It took all his effort not to pull her up and take her mouth in a hard kiss.
“No,” he croaked.
She released a shaky breath and pulled back. “There’s nothing wrong with you?”
He shook his head.
She yanked up his shirt and studied his chest. He was barely hanging on by a thread as it was, but then she put her hands on him, running her fingers over his abs and chest.
He couldn’t help it, he groaned. “What are you…?” Then her hands were back in his hair and he was back to not being able to talk.
“No scars. No sign of head injury.”
She was speaking to herself now, taking inventory of his injuries—or lack thereof.
That’s
what she was doing? Did she think he’d suffered some kind of brain damage?
She frowned, brow furrowing. “There’s nothing wrong with you. You’re perfectly healthy.”
“Yes.” Fletch watched as different emotions played across her features, none of them good. Then she bit her lip and unshed tears welled in her eyes.
Aw crap.
Nothing much affected Fletch these days…except for this; he couldn’t bear to see Laney cry.
“Laney… babe.”
Those beautiful eyes narrowed, going from sad to pissed in two-point-five seconds. Her full lips compressed into a hard line. “You. Are. Not. Dead.” She punctuated each word with a finger jab to the chest.
Okay, now he was just plain confused. He shook his head, confirming the whole beating heart thing. She growled low then in a blur of movement, one of those prettily manicured hands appeared out of nowhere and made sharp contact with the side of his face. Hard enough to rattle his skull and cause the head injury she’d been checking for.
“Don’t you
dare
‘Laney’ me!” Her voice shook with emotion.
“Jesus Christ, Sug—” She slapped him again and this time his ear started ringing. “Damn it, woman! Stop hitting me.”
“Fine.” She scrambled off his lap and yanked the door open.
