To Catch a Wolf (20 page)

Despite the lace and frills, the sheer fabric of the garment left little to the imagination.

The pink tones of her skin gave the white lawn a rosy tint, and where her breasts lifted

the cloth he could see the brown circles of her nipples. Each one formed a small,

intriguing peak that grew more pronounced as she noticed his stare.

Humans—or werewolves in human form—were much like animals. Their bodies

responded to instinct and desires that had nothing to do with intellect. Morgan's body

was very much aware of Athena's.

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He had not been oblivious to her during their previous encounters. He had been

conscious of her sex and tolerated a certain attraction, even before he learned of her

true nature. But the attraction had been only that, and easily set aside.

No longer. Something had changed. It wasn't only his respect for her courage in

challenging the limitations of her body and spirit, or that he had unwillingly shared her

emotions. It wasn't that he stood in her bedchamber, a room humans regarded as the

proper place for sex. Nor was it that she wore a diaphanous nightdress instead of the

armor of corsets and layered skirts. He had seen many women clothed in less, and

regarded them as merely the means to ease his body's needs.

Athena was not like those women. He understood the difference between females

raised as she had been, and the worldly inhabitants of the circus or saloon. She had no

experience, of that he was certain, and no skill. Her allure was completely unintentional.

She regarded mating as a wanton beast that could tear her precious reputation to

shreds, or worse—an enemy capable of making her remember what she had lost.

No matter how carefully she and her proper society friends tried to pretend otherwise,

she knew why he looked at her and why she wanted to conceal herself from his gaze.

Her skin flushed, color rising from under her collar and sweeping up to the roots of her

hair. Her breathing quickened. He could hear the throb of her pulse under the soft flesh

of her neck. Her scent had begun a subtle change as her body prepared itself for

mating, and his nostrils flared to take in the fragrance of arousal.

She wanted him. And he wanted her. This girl, this haughty, naive woman in her cage of

a chair—he wanted her as he had never wanted any woman in his life.

His feet moved of their own accord, carrying him toward her. His hands reached out to

touch her, hold her, claim her.

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Mine, the wolf howled. Mine.

"Stop," she whispered. "Morgan. Please.”

He thought he had imagined the plea, but her hands fumbled at her blankets and her

eyes begged for mercy. He stopped. Air flooded into his lungs. He shook his head to

snap the spider-silk filaments of lust that bound him to Athena, and they released their

tenacious grip.

But not entirely. His body still ached and cried out, refusing to be silenced. All he need

do was breathe in her scent, and he was caught again. But he had come with a

purpose, and he had yet to carry it out.

Niall Munroe had brought him here. He had betrayed Athena—his own, his family, his

pack. And Athena was as ignorant of her brother's deception as she was of the

hypocrisy of her society friends.

Morgan had intended to give Athena a chance to fight for herself. Until now, he hadn't

questioned his motives. Physical attraction, the drive to help one of his own kind, dislike

of Niall Munroe, pity

it all led to this room and this moment. This undeniable need.

He let out a long breath. "It is time I told you why I came—”

"Just go." Athena's blanket was up to her chin, framing her pale face. "If you don't leave

at once, I will be forced to call my maid. It would be better if I did not, for both our

sakes.”

He gave his body a final shake and seized the chance for a safer kind of skirmish. "Call

your maid, Athena—but I hope that she is a very brave woman. I would not want to

frighten her.”

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"You enjoy that, don't you?" The defiant spark returned to her eyes. "You like to

intimidate people just because you can. The feelings of others mean nothing to you. I

would remove you myself if I were not

" She lifted her chin. "You are no gentleman,

Mr. Holt, preying on unprotected women. If you thought—if you ever thought—that I had

any interest in you beyond your part in the circus, you were sadly mistaken.”

She had come too close to the truth. Morgan smiled. "Why do you think I am interested?

Do you have so many men panting after you, Athena? Do you fight your suitors off with

the edge of your tongue, or does your brother do it for you?”

He regretted his cruelty instantly. Her pupils constricted as if he had reached out and

shaken her. Then the fierce light in her eyes went out, and she stared down at her

hands upon the blanket.

"I have no suitors," she said. "'You can see why I do not. I spoke

out of pride. You

have a remarkable ability to turn me into a shrew. I forget my manners

I behave quite

abominably unlike myself. But you saved my life, and I will not forget that.”

Morgan felt about as tall as Ulysses, and much less honorable. "Athen—”

"No matter why you came, Morgan, it must be obvious that you and I are too different

even to speak to each other in a calm and reasonable manner. Let us call a truce, and

pretend this misunderstanding never happened.”

Misunderstanding? He would have laughed if he hadn't become so keenly sensible of

her fragility. A single tear would drive him to his knees.

"Morgan," he said.

She blinked. "I beg your pardon?”

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"You called me Morgan.”

"I am sorry. I did not mean—”

"No one calls me Mr. Holt," he said. "That is for gentlemen.”

"I apologized for my rudeness—”

"Morgan.”

She hesitated a long moment, worrying the blanket between her fingers. "Morgan.”

"Good." He sank down where he was, not trusting himself to go closer to her. "I am not

your enemy, Athena. I came here to warn you that your brother is working against you.”

"Niall? I do not understand.”

"He brought us—the troupe—to Denver to play for your orphans. Now he wants to buy

us off before the performance, and I don't think he intends to tell you until we're gone.”

"Buy you off?”

"I saw him offering Harry money if we would leave. The troupe wanted you to know, so

you could decide.”

"That is ridiculous. My brother brought you all the way to Denver. Why would he send

you away now?”

"Do you want the truth?”

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A door shut behind her eyes. "Of course. I still do not understand—”

"He found out about the Wolf-Man act. That was why he was so upset when he came to

get you on the lot, and why he wanted you out of the way.”

She paled. "He didn't know you were in the show? But you have been with the circus all

along—”

"He didn't see me when he hired the troupe, and I don't think he knows that I am the

Wolf-Man. It is the idea he hates. He told Caitlin he did not want the children to see

something unfit for them, but she thinks he's afraid and hides it by claiming he's

protecting you. He would have kept the troupe if it wasn't for me.”

"Why should Niall be afraid?" The soft curve of her lips took a stubborn set. "If your act

is too frightening for the children, we can leave it out. What you say of my brother—you

must have misunderstood him.”

He could have stopped there, told her what the troupe had decided, and left it in her

hands. That would be the easiest way. Once he started saying what was in his mind,

he'd only dig himself in deeper with her.

But wasn't he halfway to hell already?

"I did not misunderstand, Athena. If your brother were an ordinary human, he wouldn't

believe my act was anything but a trick. He must suspect that the Wolf-Man is like you

and soon he may realize who and what I am.”

"But I have told you that he understands—”

"Why does he fear it so much if he accepts what you are? Why does he want us gone

before you see us again?”

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Her mouth opened on a sharp intake of breath. "I know my own brother. There must be

some other reason for his

acting so strangely.”

For all the vehemence of her words, Morgan knew she was lying. Oh, not on purpose,

and not to him, but to herself. There was something in this she didn't want to face.

"You said your brother always knew what you were. His mother was human, but your

mother was one of us.”

"Yes." Her face was pinched, as if she anticipated some terrible pain. "My father loved

my mother. He accepted her completely.”

"But did your brother? You ran as a wolf before the accident. Maybe he envied you.”

"No," she said. "You are wrong." She looked quickly from side to side, like a cornered

animal seeking escape. "Were both your parents werewolves?”

"My

father was human.”

"And did he envy your mother?”

"I don't know." His throat thickened up, and he had to swallow twice to clear it. "She

loved him. He never raised a hand to her or said a harsh word, until he

”

She stared at him, waiting for him to finish. He couldn't. "We're talking about your

brother, and why he is afraid," he said harshly. "Maybe he doesn't want you around

another of your kind.”

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What is he protecting you from, Athena ? Does he secretly hate what you are—what we

are—the way humans hate what they don't understand? Or does he want you to forget

what you were before your accident?

"My brother—" Athena began, struggling with her thoughts as he had with his. "You

think he guesses, or will guess, what you are, and wants me away from you. But he has

no reason to think you would harm me.”

"I could never harm you, Athena.”

He felt her reaction like a punch in the belly. "I know you would not," she said in a

whisper. "Yet if Niall knew what you did tonight—”

"He doesn't know." He rose, stretching his spine until it cracked. "But you do not want

him to find me here. I came to tell you that the troupe will stand by you. If you want us to

stay, we will, no matter what your brother says.”

Too much had shocked her, too much had been said to dismiss, but she gamely

wrestled her bewilderment into submission and fought her way back to firmer ground.

"Why would you defy Niall when he offered to pay you?”

"Maybe we don't like being ordered about by townies.”

"That is not a good reason. Niall has much influence—”

"Harry knows what the performance means to you. He likes you. So does Caitlin.”

"That is kind of them. And

and you?”

"I don't like your brother.”

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She gave a startled laugh. "You are very blunt.”

"I don't like what he does to you.”

"To me?”

"Controlling you. Making sure you stay the way you are.”

Her eyes widened. "He doesn't try to keep me here

this way. It cannot be helped."

She shook her head, denying whatever unpleasant thoughts he had put in her mind.

"Niall enables me to do what I can for the destitute and disadvantaged. He wants only

what is best for me, to make me happy. He is a good man.”

"He is human. You are not.”

She was quiet for a long time. "You are a strange man, Morgan Holt. You hardly know

me. Neither does Harry, or Caitlin. Yet you would do this for me.”

"You help people you don't know. Why should the troupers be different? Or aren't we

saintly enough?”

"I am not saint," she said softly. "What do you want me to do?”

"It is not my choice.”

"Yet you came here, when you could have sent a message tomorrow.”

"Are you afraid to stand up to your brother?" he demanded. "Caitlin said you wouldn't

be. She said you had a will of your own. Do you, Athena? Is it easier to go along and

pretend you agree with your brother so that you can forget what you gave up?”

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She stared at him, stricken. Caitlin's words came back to Morgan as vividly as if she

stood in the room beside him. "Are you testing her, Morgan? Do you want her to fail, so

that you will have no reason to care?”