Undertow: Building Sanctuary, Book Two (4 page)

Simone was stretched out on his bed, looking sweet and comfortable, like she belonged there. Her scent had already twined with his, marking this place that had been his sole domain since he’d purchased the boat.

She groaned and rolled over, curling her body into a ball to ward off the chill of the air. “Not now, I’m sleeping,” she murmured.

Victor slipped into the small cabin and pulled the door shut. “Sorry, darling, but it’s time to get a move on. We’re in Searsport.”

Wide blue eyes blinked open, and Simone struggled to prop herself up on her elbows. “Damn, I slept the whole trip.”

The movement arched her body, lifting her breasts, and inconvenient arousal stirred. How easy it would be to slide over her, to sink home into the cradle of her hips, feel her long legs wrapped around him. He could make her arch like that out of ecstasy, show her the pleasure to be had when a strong wolf set about claiming his mate.

His mate.
Tripping over the words returned sense before he made the painful mistake of giving into need. She wasn’t his mate. She wasn’t
his
anything. Disappointment and confusion deepened his voice, made it rougher than he wanted. “Not a problem. But now we’d best get going.”

Her eyes clouded with uncertainty, but she only nodded. “We have a lot to do.”

He was doing it again, taking his frustration out on her. Victor dragged his temper under control and moderated his tone. “Yes we do. I’ll wait up top.”

Victor didn’t wait for a response, just turned and fled, damning himself as a coward.

Simone flipped over the creased paper in her hand and marked off two more items on the list as she took careful inventory of the purchases remaining on the bed.

Most of the crates contained fabric, and she’d arranged for more bolts to be delivered to the dock the next morning. They could spend the winter making clothes and linens enough to supply them all.

One less thing to worry about.
Still, she dropped her pen and rubbed at the knot that had formed between her shoulders. There were so many things she’d never considered being without until she’d had to make practical arrangements for just that. Come spring, they’d have time to dig more wells and build real houses, all with the appropriate amenities and fixtures. Until then, they had to make do.

It was exhausting.

The creak of a squeaky board outside her room warned her a moment before a soft knock sounded against the door. “Simone?”

She tensed, then told herself she was being a ninny. “Come in, Victor.”

He stepped inside and closed the door gently behind him. “How was your afternoon?”

She wished—for the thousandth time—that looking at him didn’t make her chest squeeze tight with longing. “Productive and expensive. Yours?”

“The same.” He moved toward the bed, gaze fixed on the fruits of her shopping excursion. “What is all of this?”

“A little bit of everything. Fabric for clothes, some kitchen gadgets, incidentals. All very boring but necessary.” She climbed off the bed and smoothed her skirt, cursing the vanity that had led her to dress nicely. He’d probably think she’d dolled herself up for him, and the hell of it was that he wouldn’t be entirely wrong.

He brushed his fingers over a cream separator, his attention still fixed on the bed. “What’s this?”

The last thing she wanted to talk about was the latest in dairy equipment. “It’s for the goats’ milk. It doesn’t separate well, but we can use this to—” He looked up at her, and her breath caught.

Hunger. In the split second before he glanced away she saw it plainly in his eyes, along with a very male appreciation. He dropped the separator back to the bed and cleared his throat. “Would you like to find some dinner with me? It might be your last chance to go to a restaurant for a while.”

Even sharp disappointment couldn’t overcome practicality. “I ate a late lunch, but thank you for thinking of me.”

“You sure? I clean up all right, for a farm boy.”

“A tragic understatement, I’m sure.” She straightened his collar, stupidly grateful for the chance to touch him. “I don’t know if my poor little heart could take it.”

The muscles in his shoulder tensed a moment before his hand shot up, curling around hers. Rough, warm fingertips brushed her skin, urging her heart into a staccato rhythm. “I’d be gentle with your heart.”

“Would you?” Perhaps he’d been trying, though every short word and cross look had stung.

He closed his eyes, though his fingers kept up their slow, maddening stroking. “You gave it away before I had a chance to know how much of what you feel for me is instinct and how much is real. I’m not the kind of bastard who’ll take what was never offered.”

She blinked at him as she tried to process his words. “Are you talking about
James
?”

Victor tensed. “Who else would have a claim on you?”

No one—not even James. She jerked her hand away. “You’re an ass if you think I’d look at you the way I do after giving myself to another man. An
ass
, Victor.”

“Plenty of your girls look at me,” he ground out, frustration vibrating in his voice. “They look at the other strong men too. They can’t help themselves. No one has taken care of any of you the way they should, and your instincts are starving.”

Her hand itched to strike him, and her eyes burned. “Believe what you want.
Do
what you want, but don’t say I never offered you anything, because it just isn’t true.”

Victor surged forward and caught her shoulders. “Tell me it’s not true, that you’re not fighting your instincts.”

If only it were that simple, and her attraction to him was solely instinctive. “Of course I’m fighting them. I don’t want to pant after a man who runs in the other direction when he sees me. It’s humiliating.”

He bit off a curse, and in the next heartbeat his mouth crushed against hers, hard and open and so very hot.

She should have pulled away. She should have
slapped
him, especially after he’d all but accused her of not knowing what the hell she really wanted. Instead, she clung to him as pleasure mounted.

More pleasure than should have been possible from a single kiss, except that he tasted like heaven and felt even better. Simone touched her tongue to his and moaned helplessly.

A lifetime later he lifted his head with a groan, both hands sliding up into her hair, cupping the back of her head. “I shouldn’t do this. I shouldn’t—” He bit off a curse, and his fingers tightened. “I want you beyond reason,” he whispered and claimed her mouth again. Slower this time, his tongue teasing apart her lips as he tilted her head back.

Simone leaned against him, her head swimming. This was what she’d always glimpsed in the moments before he turned away from her, and she wanted more. So much more.

Her fingers tangled in the front of his shirt, fumbling with the buttons. “Victor.”

He caught her hands and took a tiny step back. “No, too fast. Dammit, Simone, you may think it’s foolish, but it’s the way I was raised. You’ve been through hell these past few years. A good alpha protects.”

He was doing it again, making assumptions about her state of mind. “Some of the women on the island have had a hard time, but
I’m
fine. Please stop presuming to know how I feel and why.”

Doubt clouded his eyes. “You didn’t say you hadn’t had a hard time.”

“Haven’t
you
had a hard time? Hasn’t everyone? I don’t know what you want me to say.” His hesitation was insidious because it stemmed from such genuine concern that she almost forgot how dangerous it was. It would be too easy to tell herself that he only had her best interests in mind—and let him walk all over her.

She took a deep breath. “It’s one thing to protect, or to want to take things slow, but it’s another not to trust me to know my own feelings.”

“And the wizard? Does he know your feelings?”

“Yes. Unlike some people, he’s bothered to ask.” Lingering guilt sharpened her tongue. “Why do you persist in bringing James into every conversation? This has nothing to do with him.”

Victor’s expression of disbelief might have been comical, under other circumstances. “You spend your time with him. You share meals with him. The whole pack thinks you’re a couple, and you haven’t been quick to dissuade them.”

Because it hadn’t mattered, not with Victor doing his best to avoid her. “I enjoy spending time with James. I wish I enjoyed it more,” she admitted, sick with misery. “All he wants is to love me, and I hate that I can’t give him that.”

“Simone, this isn’t—” He closed his eyes and rubbed one hand over his face and stubbled jaw. “You may know your mind and heart, but if you would play games with your instincts, then you don’t understand them at all.”

She crossed her arms and rubbed them to ward off the chill that shook her. “I’m sure you’re right.” She didn’t understand anything, least of all why instinct would lead her to torture herself by seeking Victor’s reluctant attentions. “Can you see yourself out, please?”

He backed toward the door, then turned with his fingers curled around the knob. “This isn’t a game to me. I was born a wolf, and I don’t know how to play. Not about this. A woman is a warm body, or she’s everything. You’re more than a warm body, but if even part of you wishes you loved a wizard, you’re not ready to be everything.”

It was too much to bear. He’d done nothing but push her away, and now he was blaming her,
punishing
her, because she’d allowed herself the comfort of a friendly face. “How could I be ready to be anything to you when you act like you hate me?” she whispered.

His voice dropped. Gentled. The infuriating tone of a man trying to manage an irrational woman. “I don’t hate you. You know I don’t hate you.”

It would be so easy to give in and rage at him, but it would only cement his conviction that he was right. “How am I to know that, exactly? From the way you glower at me? Perhaps your strict policy of avoidance at all costs.”

“I don’t—” His jaw tightened, and his irritation evidenced itself in a dark wave of power with guilt riding hard on its heels. “It wouldn’t be fair to you.”

“I’m not asking you to fuck me, Victor.” Her own hurt and anger lent her voice a steely edge. “I’m asking how I was supposed to know your mind on any of this.”

He winced at the blunt language. “I wasn’t referring to sex. It’s not fair for me to be around you when I can’t control myself. I’ll influence you without meaning to.”

“I’m not weak-willed or feeble-minded. I can make my own decisions!”

A growl filled the room. Victor stalked across the intervening space, and magic came with him. Wild and oppressive, the sense of
him
filled the room. Strong. Dominant. He stopped a few inches from her and growled one command. “Sit.”

She didn’t
want
to. She wanted to face him, to stand strong and tell him that she was her own woman, no matter what alpha control games he wanted to play.

Stand, Simone.
Don’t
give in.
But her body moved anyway, and she couldn’t choke back an angry sob as she dropped to the bed.

He stumbled back a step, then swore. Power vanished so fast she thought her ears might pop. “God
damn
it, Simone, I shouldn’t have—I didn’t mean…”

Looking at him hurt, so she dropped her gaze to the floor. “You’ve made your point.”

Fingers touched her shoulder, tentative, as if he feared being slapped away. “It’s a point I shouldn’t have made. I’m truly sorry.”

“No, you were right.” She swallowed miserable tears. “I thought I could trust you.”

An anguished noise escaped him, and his touch vanished. “You should be able to trust me. But when I’m around you, I don’t trust myself.”

“That’s all you had to say.” Simone wiped her eyes and looked up at him. “I haven’t been trying to torment you. I just…”
I wanted you so, so much.

“I know.” He reached for her again, his fingers soft at her jaw. “You’re not responsible for making me control myself. You’re not responsible for my actions, and you shouldn’t have to worry about being safe with me. My failure, Simone. My fault.”

No matter whose fault it was, they had both lost. “You should go. We have an early day tomorrow.”

Regret filled his voice as he backed away. “If you need anything…I’m just next door.”

“I won’t.” His obvious guilt drove her to speak, and she stood and squared her shoulders. “This has only proven that we—we can’t be reasonable about one another, Victor. I won’t be coming to you for the things I need. I
can’t
.”

He looked like he wanted to fight, but something held him back. “If you feel you can’t, then I’ve truly let you down. Perhaps, some day, I’ll prove myself again.”

Except that she might be leaving come spring. “What if it’s too late by then?”

A sad, lonely smile curved his lips. “Then I’ll hope you don’t hate me too much while you’re living the happy life you deserve.”

She couldn’t hate him, even if he broke her heart. “Good night.”

He didn’t move. His hand came up, then froze, as if he didn’t dare touch her. So she took his hand and guided it to her cheek.

“Simone.” Her name was a whisper, twisted with longing.

“I’ll be all right.” The only thing she could give him, a desperate reassurance.

“I know.” He stroked her cheek, his callused thumb rough. “Believe me, I know. You’re strong. You’ve been through so much, and you’re still strong. Someone just needs to keep you safe until you realize it. Not just want it to be true. Until you believe it’s true.”

Even through the pain and the doubt, her body responded to his touch. “I don’t feel strong.”

“You should, darling. You stand right back up, even when an alpha snarls in your face and knocks you down.”

“I suppose.” Though she wouldn’t have to if she could just
stand
in the first place.

He tilted her head back. “Tell me one thing.”

There was so much she wanted to say, and so little that he would—or could—hear. “What is it?”

“Will you give me another chance to prove you’re safe with me?”

“I don’t question that. I trust you with my life.”

For a long time he stared at her, his dark eyes intense. His gaze traced her face until she felt sure he was memorizing her features. Then he smiled. “It’s a start.”