Moonsong (12 page)

“It’ll be gone within the week,” Cutter disagreed, already pulling his shirt back on.

“Really? That must be nice, I’ve got a couple of doozies; I wouldn’t mind seeing them disappear for good.”

“Someone hurt you?” The growl instantly returned to his voice at the thought of anyone daring to touch her in anger, especially that whelp Adele was rearing.

“What? No, I’m talking about scars from years ago. This one…” she tugged up the leg of her pants to reveal a faded scar across her knee, “…is from the second grade. I fell on a piece of glass playing hopscotch, and I kept falling on it and busting it back open all summer long. And this one…” she showed him a crescent shaped scar on her ankle. “I burnt my leg on the tailpipe of my dad’s motorcycle, but actually that one’s pretty faded now, you can hardly see it unless you’re
really
looking.

All Cutter was
really
looking at was her bared leg; smooth, creamy skin practically crying out for his touch. Was she a new kind of torture for him to endure, more punishment from the Gods for his mistakes? “Yeah, you can hardly see it,” he replied, averting his eyes. “Now about my present?” he prompted, changing the subject.

“Right, I noticed your diet here is a little… limited shall we say, so I brought you something different. It’s my turn to cook dinner tonight, so I made a little extra.” Unzipping her pack, she withdrew a large Tupperware container and slid it across the table towards him.

Cutter opened the corner and sniffed carefully, his mouth watering as the spices reached his nose. She’d made him enchiladas.

“I hope you like spicy food; it’s what I was raised on, so I sometimes forget not everyone likes food that makes you sweat,” she grinned, pulling out another smaller container and sliding it over. “Salsa to go with the chips I saw in there the other day, you didn’t eat them already did you?” A shake of the head, he tried to think the last time anyone had cooked for him and drew a blank. “Oh good, so we’ve got enchiladas, chips and salsa, the beans weren’t ready yet, so I didn’t bring those over, but I did bring you some dessert. Lemon snow bars, they were Luc’s favorite, I hope you like them,” she slid over the last container. “Oh, and this.”

Cutter simply stared at her when she handed him a single orange, unsure how it went with the meal. “An orange…”

“I didn’t see any fresh fruit over here the other day, and well, I didn’t want you to get scurvy. Or is it rickets? I can never remember which one of those comes from not eating enough fruit, so…”

Laughter burst out of him, harder than he’d laughed in a long time. So hard, his ribs actually felt sore as he engaged those seldom used muscles, and Amelia flushed bright red.

“I should go,” she muttered, turning towards the door.

“Wait.” His hand reached out to catch her, the last tremors of laughter still coursing through him as he pulled her close. “What am I going to do with you?” he groaned, tumbling her onto his lap.

“I was just trying to help,” she gave him a disgruntled pout.

She’d gotten to him with an orange.

“Thank you for worrying about me,” his thumb touched her bottom lip, grinning over her sulk. “It’s been a long time since anyone worried whether or not I was in danger of getting scurvy. Actually, I don’t think anyone’s ever worried about that before,” Cutter considered aloud.

“Well, I saw this documentary, and okay, I wasn’t paying super close attention, but I do remember them saying it came from lack of a varied diet and you have to admit, your cupboards aren’t exactly well balanced,” she pointed out. “I thought you’d make a pretty silly looking wolf if all your teeth fell out from it.” Millie reached out to touch his jaw, the smile returning to her face.

Lord above, where did she come up with this stuff?
Cutter shook his head at her in wonder, the smile still on his lips. “They have this new fangled invention, it’s called a multi-vitamin, ever hear of it?” he teased her back, smiling a little wider as her expression grew indignant once more.

“How was I supposed to know
you
had heard of them before, living out here in the sticks all by yourself like a hermit?” she demanded.

“Fair enough,” Cutter made an effort to curtail his amusement. “Thank you for safeguarding my teeth.” Teeth that wanted nothing more than to nip that succulent earlobe that was so tantalizingly close. He cleared his throat, tamping down that particular urge before things got out of hand.

“You’re welcome,” Millie replied, settling her arm around his shoulders and he raised a dark brow at her.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Getting comfortable, you don’t make all that comfortable a seat, you know that? You’re too hard all over.” She shifted her bottom on his lap for emphasis.

Sweet Jesus, if she only knew…
“You’re not helping,” he muttered, grabbing hold of her hips to hold them still before he lost all restraint.

“Hey, I was all set to leave; you’re the one who pulled me onto your lap.” Amelia shifted once more for good measure, smiling as his hands gripped her hips a little tighter in response.

“What do you
want
to do with me?” she gave him an arch smile.

“Amelia, a man only has so much self control.”

“That’s exactly what I was counting on,” Millie leaned close, lips brushing lightly against the side of his face.

A man only has so much self control
. The words echoed in his ears as she pushed him past the threshold of his restraint, the touch of her lips his undoing. Turning into that hesitant kiss, he captured her mouth with his, hand smoothing up the back of her shirt to sink into the hair at the nape of her neck, binding her to him as he took his fill of what she offered.

She was so soft. Everywhere he touched her, tasted her; he had almost forgotten the sweet softness of a woman in his self imposed solitude. Cutter could only imagine what it would be like to bury himself in her softness, hardening painfully below at the thought of making her truly his.

But she wasn’t his to have, was she?

The sobering thought cut through his desire like a bucket of cold water, and he wrenched his lips from hers, breathing raggedly. Amelia’s eyes fluttered open to stare at him with hurt confusion.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“You don’t belong to me, I have no right…” he shook his head, still struggling with the desire to scoop her up and carry her into his bed to refute those words.

“I don’t belong to anyone, and I say who has the right,” Amelia smiled, brushing her mouth over his again and he turned away from those succulent lips.

“I can’t start this with you Amelia, I’m not what you want,” Cutter growled, his mood souring quickly. Forcing her from his lap, he stood and paced away from her, able to think a little more clearly without her in such close proximity.

“Isn’t that up to me; who and what I want?”

“You don’t know what you want, you’re just a kid.”

“You make it sound like I’m a teenager,” Millie complained. “Maybe I don’t know what I want, but isn’t that the point of life, to figure it out?” She took a step towards him, reaching out to smooth her hands over his chest.

“I know it shouldn’t be me,” Cutter grasped her hands and kept them still. “Amelia, you can’t come back here,” he said softly, brushing a gentle kiss against her forehead in farewell.

“I know,” she nodded slowly.

The next time she came, she brought cookies.

Chapter Twelve

She’d lasted all of three days, keeping to the house and the immediate grounds. Distracted enough for Scarlett to notice; her cousin pressed for details but Amelia simply shook her head, not quite ready to talk about it. The Tupperware from her thank you gift had appeared the next morning, freshly washed and neatly stacked by the back door, no note or sign of the man who’d brought it.

Chase had been preoccupied with some task from Adele, and she’d barely seen him for the past few days, leaving her conflicted as to whether or not the attraction she felt for the young wolf had faded in the face of Cutter’s kiss, or if it could be found again. In fact, she almost wished Chase would appear and sweep her off of her feet; make her forget how Cutter’s kiss had made her feel.

Because
all
she could think about was that kiss.

The memory of his lips on hers haunted her dreams and invaded her waking thoughts to the exclusion of all else. After waking for the third straight morning in a row, her sheets damp with perspiration and swearing she could still feel the rasp of his unshaven jaw on the swell of her breast, she decided to bite the bullet and go see him again. The worst he could do was tell her to go home again, but if he didn’t… if he felt the same way…

The cabin awaited her; a thin column of smoke from the chimney signaling someone had been there recently, maybe even waiting inside. Stomach fluttering in anticipation, she entered after a brief knock, disappointment lancing hot through her belly as she realized he wasn’t home. Amelia resolved to wait for him, opening the pack to bring out the other item she’d thought to pack for this visit.

Windex.

Keeping busy, she waited for Cutter to return, but there was no sign of him. When the afternoon was all but gone, Millie picked up her pack to head back to the house, heart heavy with disappointment. The large Tupperware container filled with homemade chocolate chip cookies was left on the table where he was sure to see it. She debated whether or not to leave him a note, but in the end it seemed unnecessary. Who else would bring him cookies?

Trying not to read too much into his absence, she left the cabin, eyes scanning the tree line for any possible sign of him before she left. With a heartfelt sigh, Amelia began the trek back home, oblivious to the dark shape that followed behind to see her safely home.

Moping around for the rest of the afternoon, Amelia wasn’t much of a dinner companion, something Adele noted with interest. As the dishes were being cleared, Adele rose and beckoned to Millie. “Scarlett will finish with those, come with me, Amelie.” Without waiting for a response, the woman led her off to her private study.

Crap, was she busted?
Had Gran somehow found out about her walks in the woods? It was so hard to gauge the old lady’s mood when she was always so stern and reserved, and Millie found herself nervous.

Adele led her to the small seating group in front of the window. “How are you settling in, Amelie? Are you feeling at home here with us in Cutter’s Folly?”

A little perturbed that she persisted in calling her Amelie, she tried to let it go. Obviously the woman thought of her by that name and she supposed it didn’t hurt anything to let her keep doing it. “I like it fine,” Millie shrugged. “It’s a lot quieter than I’m used to. Maybe if I go back to school, I could try and get into the winter session…”

“That’s out of the question,” Adele cut her off. “The nearest university is too far for you to make the trip daily, and we can’t protect you properly away from our grounds.” She softened her words with another suggestion. “You could perhaps take some classes online,
ma chere
? That is how Scarlett obtained her schooling, I’m certain she could direct you to the right resources to set that in motion if you like.”

Amelia bristled at being told what she could and couldn’t do, and opened her mouth to protest, before realizing Adele was unlikely to budge when it came to her safety. She snapped her mouth shut again, looking out the window while she considered the other option given. Online school would give her something to occupy her thoughts, but it lacked the human interaction she had in mind. “Maybe,” she said finally. “I need to do something to get me out of the house, I can’t sit around here all day, I’ll start climbing the walls.”

Adele nodded, “I understand your frustration, my dear. For the moment your movements are somewhat restricted beyond the boundaries of our land I’m afraid, but it will not always be so. In time you will be able to come and go as you please, but until…”

“Until I choose a mate and have my first born, I’m trapped like a rat,” Millie muttered in a disgruntled tone.

“Not quite,” Adele chuckled. “Is it so bad here that you feel trapped… like a rat?”

“Okay, maybe not like a rat,” Millie allowed. “The people have been very nice to me, I just need some kind of… purpose, something to do with my days.”

“You have the greatest purpose of all,
ma chere,
” leaning closer, Adele patted her hand. “Come with me.” Rising, the stately woman led her from the room and up the stairs to her bedroom suite.

Millie studied the room with interest, having often wondered how Adele kept her bedroom. It was exactly as she imagined, immaculate and tastefully decorated; heavily laced with antiques and curios. Leading her to an ornate dressing table carved in the French style with rosette details and gilt trim, Adele ushered her onto the soft, padded bench. Taking a seat before the three angled mirrors, Amelia regarded her grandmother in the reflection over her shoulder.

“This piece has been in our family for nearly three hundred years, passed down from mother to daughter, or the nearest female relative of the direct line,” Adele passed her hand fondly over the painted antique. “There has been a LaRoche leading this pack for just as many years; before we fled to this country in the eighteenth century, though this valley was little more than a primitive woodcutter’s settlement at that time. Our ancestor Marie LaRoche brought this and many treasures from the old country.” She opened a drawer and removed a velvet covered box for Millie to see. Inside rested a luminous moonstone pendant in a delicate filigree setting.

“It’s beautiful,” Millie reached out to touch the smooth cabochon that was cool to the touch.