The Alpha's Choice (11 page)

She headed for the bathroom keeping her eyes
averted from the man on the bed. His presence pulled at her and she
wanted to return to the position she had just left. She was at the
bathroom door before he spoke again.

"You are you know." She heard the bed creak
as he arose from it.

"I am what?" She stopped in the bathroom
doorway, but didn't turn around.

"Interested. You can't help yourself."

She had a funny feeling he was right, but she
wasn't about to let him think so. "If you're thinking about your
Alpha charm, you'd better think again. It's not working and even if
it was, you'd be surprised what a girl can resist when she puts her
mind to it."

He didn't reply and when she glanced over her
shoulder she saw that he was already gone.

Her shower was a quick one, enough
to sluice off the accumulated dirt and wash her hair for the second
time that day. She thought about shaving her legs, realized she'd
already done that earlier and decided the little bit of stubble
would be another incentive to remain on the straight and narrow
where Charles was concerned. She was dressed and ready for supper
in fifteen minutes.

She found them in the dining room. Mrs.
Martin had spread a small cloth over one end of the long table and
set it for four, two to each side, with a full complement of
glasses, silverware, and folded cloth napkins. She'd gone to a lot
of trouble for a chili supper.

"Hey Kitty Kat, don't you look pretty.
Doesn't she look pretty Charlie? That necklace is real pretty too,
almost as pretty as you. I know what that is. That's a sapphire.
That's for September. It's Mama's birthstone. Right Mama?"

Kat reddened at the complement and fingered
the stone of the necklace she'd worn to match her slacks and
blouse. It wasn't a real sapphire, but it was her birthstone, too.
Her father had given it to her for her ninth birthday, the birthday
before the world fell apart. She treasured it as a reminder of the
happy life she lived back then.

"Thank you, Buddy. You're looking pretty good
yourself."

He was, too. His face was shining and his
hair was combed back neatly from his forehead. Because of his
natural coloring, or lack of it, it was hard to tell if he was
still pale, but his cheeks showed a faint pink as did his lips and
tongue. He was dressed in a clean T-shirt and jeans. She was sorry
she missed his 'coming home'.

She would have liked seeing his
transformation, but thought it might be a private matter and didn't
want to embarrass him if he came back naked. Maybe she should ask
Tilda about that next time they were alone.

She took the empty seat beside Charles, who
looked much too pale, and resolved to trade her place for Buddy's
the next time they sat down to eat. If there was a next time. Even
without touching him she was acutely aware of Charles' body just a
few inches from hers.

"I'm sorry if I held things up," she said
self-consciously, "I didn't think we would be sitting down to
supper. I thought we would just grab a bowl in the kitchen. My
apologies."

"Nonsense." Mrs. Martin looked a little
offended. "There'll be no grabbing a bowl of anything for a meal as
long as I'm in charge of the kitchen." She began to ladle chili
from the tureen set in front of her.

"I'll remember that," Kat said and lowered
her eyes and accepting the rebuke.

Charles hand trembled a little as he passed
his bowl to Mrs. Martin. Kat followed Mrs. Martin's lead and
ignored it, though her instinct was to force him back into bed and
feed him herself.

He waited patiently for everyone to be served
before attacking his bowl as if he hadn't eaten for a week. When
compared to Buddy, Charles looked the worse for wear and Kat
wondered again about how much energy he expended in saving Buddy's
life.

Buddy matched him spoon for spoon. When his
bowl was empty, he laid aside his spoon and would have picked up
the bowl in his hands had his mother not sternly cleared her throat
and held out her hand for the bowl to refill. She did the same for
Charles.

"It's to bed early for you tonight, my young
wolf."

"Aw, Mama. I don't want to sleep up there
alone." Buddy looked bleakly up at the ceiling.

Charles gave Mrs. Martin a questioning look
as he passed his bowl for another refill.

"I've put Buddy up on the third floor," she
explained as she filled the bowl. "I thought I would make the room
off the kitchen into the sitting room for myself and Buddy. We can
take our meals in there when the others are here. There's plenty of
room for a small table and a comfortable chair or two and a
television for Buddy. He enjoys his TV in the evening."

"Ghost Detectives. That's my favorite." Buddy
bobbed his head in agreement. Every night at eight o'clock p.m. on
channel forty-six."

"Which is why you have trouble falling
asleep," his mother told him. She paused from her ladling duty to
give his hand an affectionate pat and then turned back to Charles.
"I'll take the room upstairs next to his."

"I don't like the idea of you running up and
down those stairs." Charles accepted his bowl but left it sitting
in front of him. "The house is big enough as it is without you
taking extra steps and I see no reason why you can't continue to
take your meals with us."

Mrs. Martin smiled and nodded her thanks.
"This is fine for every day, but not when you're holding court.
When folks come to visit, we'll take our meals separate, as we
should. I won't have folks here about looking down on you. You have
a reputation to uphold. Fine man like you can't be eating with the
hired help. As for moving upstairs, Buddy doesn't like to sleep
alone. He sleeps better if I'm nearby. We'll be fine. You take care
of your business and we'll take care of ourn."

"You are my business. If you want to move
upstairs, that's fine, but you'll move to the second floor."

"And what will your company think when
they're tucked up under the eaves in the servant's quarters?" Mrs.
Martin was clearly displeased, having her own ideas of what was
proper and what was not.

"They'll think my housekeeper and groundsman
must be worth their weight in gold. They'll probably try to lure
you away with promises of better pay," Charles laughed.

Mrs. Martin suddenly looked like she was
going to cry. She fanned her face with her hand and jumped up from
the table. "I forgot the dessert," she said and fled to the
kitchen.

"What did I say?" Charles asked.

"Maybe I should go check on her." Kat was
about to rise, but there was no need.

Mrs. Martin came through the door and plopped
a bowl of strawberries and cream in front of Charles. She
straightened her back and took a deep breath.

"I've been keeping other people's houses for
as far back as I can remember," she said in a rush, "And nobody's
treated me and Buddy with such care and kindness as you have since
we left your mama's house. There's no money in the world that can
buy that." Her eyes filled again and she flapped her hands.
"Dammit, I forgot the spoon," she said and fled to the kitchen
again.

Charles sat back and just shook his head in
bafflement.

"I think that was a thank you," Kat
whispered.

"What's a groundsman, Charlie?" Buddy asked
looking up from his bowl. "Where's he going to sleep?"

"You're the groundsman, Buddy." Charles
nodded to Mrs. Martin as she took her seat and began to spoon out
the strawberries as if nothing had happened. "It's your job to keep
the outside of the house neat and tidy and to keep an eye on things
when I'm not around. It's an important job and I need someone I can
trust."

Buddy beamed at the complement and leaned
across the table to pat Kat's hand. "Don't you worry, Miss Kitty
Kat, I won't let you down." He turned to Charles "I got to keep an
eye on her, Charlie. She's from the city and she says she needs
someone to teach her country ways. She's just a bitty thing and
real smart and won't take much watchin', so I think I can be your
groundsman, too. But you gots to know, Charlie, Miss Kitty Kat
comes first. She tried to fight off those men to save me. Mama says
we was lucky she didn't get herself kilt. We're beholding to her,
so she comes first."

"Absolutely, Buddy," Charles told him
solemnly. "Miss Kitty Kat should always come first."

Buddy grinned. "Besides, she's prettier than
you." He laughed uproariously at his own joke while his mother
dabbed at her eyes with her napkin.

Chapter
11

Kat couldn't sleep. She was too acutely aware
of sleeping in Charles' bed while he was sleeping only one wall
away. He'd played the gentleman and insisted she keep the room
while he moved to the one next door while she graciously demurred
and just as graciously changed her mind when she thought he might
change his. This bedroom was as close to a five-star hotel as she
was ever going to get and she wasn't going to miss the chance to
enjoy it while she could.

She was paying for her subterfuge now. She
tossed and turned and swore she could feel the heat of his body
from where he had lain across the bed earlier. She kept playing the
scene over and over in her mind and wondered if she had made a
mistake in her refusal to play his game.

She wanted him. There was no mistaking that,
but she couldn't figure out where his intentions lay. One minute he
seemed to want her as much a she wanted him, but the next he seemed
indifferent. All evening he'd been polite but distant. Was that
playing the gentleman, too? Was he waiting for a signal that she
had changed her mind?

If that was the case, he would have a long
wait. Yes, she wanted him, but she wouldn't allow herself to be
overwhelmed by that need. She refused to sell herself so cheaply to
a man who was so obviously used to having his way in everything,
including women.

The 'charm' that Tilda spoke of was real. It
called to her like the moon to the tides. Was it another form of
his magic perhaps? She would have to ask Tilda tomorrow. In the
meantime, sleep was impossible and she'd learned long ago that hard
work was the cure for her occasional bouts of insomnia. There was a
classroom waiting to be finished.

She slipped into the clothing she'd worn
before and tiptoed down the stairs, surprised to find the entrance
hall lighted by a utility light hanging from the old coat tree to
the right of the front door. The dark paneling of the foyer had
been transformed with a coat of primer in readiness for a new coat
of paint. Apparently, she wasn't the only one who couldn't
sleep.

Charles was in her schoolroom, his back to
her, rolling on the final coat of yellow paint.

"I could use some help," he said without
looking back.

Kat nodded, even though he couldn't see her
and picked up the roller she'd used that morning. It was wrapped
tightly in plastic and her tray was clean and ready for a
refill.

"How long have you been down here?" she
asked. As far as she knew he'd gone to bed when she did, right
after Mrs. Martin and Buddy said good night.

"Since five minutes after you went to bed.
Did you miss me?" He still didn't look at her, but she could tell
he was smiling.

"Don't flatter yourself. I always have
trouble sleeping in a new place." She busied herself applying the
paint to the opposite side of the room.

"You didn't seem to have any trouble sleeping
last night," he laughed.

That was when it hit her. Charles didn't
arrive this morning as she had thought. He'd been here all along.
It was the eyes, those beautiful, thick lashed green eyes that
tilted upward ever so slightly at the outer corners.

He was the Lord of his Domain. He was her
Wolf King. He was the wolf at the pool and he had seen her naked as
the day she was born. She advanced on him with roller raised.

"You bastard! You pervert! It was you by the
pool scaring me half to death."

"You didn't seem too frightened to me." He
raised his eyebrows and smiled with a definite wolfish leer. "In
the pool, you seemed friendly and playful and… How should I say
this?" He put his finger to his chin as if thinking and his eyes
slid to her breasts. "Perky?"

Furious, Kat shook the roller at him. "You
had no right."

"No right? In case you hadn't noticed, this
is my house and it was supposed to be empty. I don't recall
inviting you here." He eyed the roller in her hand and set his down
in the tray. "And how was I to know you'd be swimming naked in my
pool."

"You didn't have to stay in wolf form," she
argued. "You could have… have… come home and showed up as a
man."

"Because a naked man walking across the patio
would be so much more acceptable." Those green eyes danced with
devilish mischief.

The image of Charles, crossing the patio in
all his naked glory sent a wave of heat down through her body
beginning with her cheeks and ending at the juncture of her legs
where her body gushed with pleasure, ready to meet and greet. Just
when she was beginning to rethink the possibilities, he had to go
and ruin it.

"I thought you were the housekeeper," he
said.

"You're just digging this hole deeper and
deeper. Another six inches and it will be deep enough to bury you."
She threatened him with the roller again. "You think it's all right
to coerce sex from an employee? Is that what it means to be an
Alpha?"

"That was the point," he said and took a step
toward her. "You would have known I was the Alpha and it wasn't
coercion. If you were one of us you would've known that, too. I
asked. When you didn't run, I backed off. No one forced anyone to
do anything." Charles took another step.

Kat took a step back, but she still held her
paint roller weapon ready. "You didn't ask anything and if you did
I don't understand wolfish. One woof sounds the same as another.
And what do you mean, I didn't run?"