PRINCE OF WOLVES By Susan Krinard

It was like a replay of last night’s scene in the tavern, on a much more intimate scale The imposing figure of Luke Gévaudan stood in the doorway, and once again Joey felt her attention inexplicably riveted on him Jackson, too, remained very still There was a beat of silence, and then Gunnar, forgotten in the corner, growled softly

Joey glanced down at the dog in startlement. The animal was up on his feet, head and tail lowered and motionless, a ridge of hair raised along his spine. The growl rumbled again, an obvious warning. Aimed at the man in the doorway. Joey blinked and moved without thought to the dog’s side, resting her hand on his head. She could feel the vibrations of his exhalation under her fingers. Again her gaze was pulled to the stranger; she opened her mouth to speak, but the sound seemed caught in her throat.

Gévaudan’s pale eyes met hers for the briefest instant and then rested on the dog at her side. In the filtered light Joey could make out their color—a clear, unusual amber-green, ringed in black. Not hazel—those eyes were nothing as ordinary as mere hazel. She stared, but he ignored her. The intensity that seemed to flow from him, the same intensity she’d felt the night before, was focused on something else.

As if in response to her thoughts, Gunnar shivered under her hand. The low growl faded. She could feel the animal’s head drop lower, sensed the subtle shift in his muscles. Her fingers tightened to prevent the coming attack, but as she looked down, the dog seemed to shrink in on himself, whining softly.

With slow and subtle grace Gévaudan stepped into the room and crouched before the dog. His gaze, still locked on the animal’s, never wavered. The dog shivered again beneath Joey’s nerveless fingers and crouched down, sliding forward until his dark head rested on the ground inches from Gévaudan’s knee. Joey’s fist clenched on empty air as Gévaudan extended a hand and held it just under the animal’s nose.

Gunnar whined softly, thumping his tail, his pink tongue shot out to touch the man’s knuckle. Gévaudan’s hand slid over the side of the dog’s head and lightly gripped the loose skin at the back of the neck. The dog collapsed into an amiable puddle and thrust all four legs into the air. With long, sun-browned fingers Gévaudan scratched the dog’s belly, and then he looked up. The full intensity of his stare met Joey’s, and the hard lines of his face shifted into a faint, unsettling smile.

“Hello, Ms Randall,” he said.

Luke stood up, watching the woman as she felt the brunt of his attention. Her eyes—brown eyes, lightly flecked with gold—widened as he spoke her name. Apparently, he thought with a wry inward smile, she hadn’t expected him to be capable of speech. He allowed a little of the smile to reach his mouth, though it was a deliberate gesture designed to put her at ease, not one that came naturally. Her eyes traced over his face, she did not look particularly reassured.

He took a moment to look her over more carefully. His first impressions had all been accurate, the patent femininity of her body was enhanced, not disguised, by her practical mountain clothing. Soft silver-gold hair drawn back in a braid freed the delicate lines of her face. Her brows, darker than her hair, were lowered in a subtle frown, the soft lips were slightly parted. He gazed at those lips for a moment, reminding himself that a hunter never gave himself away by striking prematurely. As much as he might wish to throw caution to the winds and feel that sweet, supple body against his, explore the promise behind those parted lips, he would have to remain in control.

It amused him to consider that she, too, wanted control. Even now she struggled to gain dominance over her own response to him—a response he felt with absolute clarity. It told him he would not have to wait too long to have her in his bed. Not if he took the minimum precautions. Considering the strength of his need—and his increasing conviction that she would fill it perfectly—it was a very good thing that there would be no complications.