PRINCE OF WOLVES By Susan Krinard

He knew the instant she felt his presence, her eyes snapped open and focused on him without the slightest hesitation. The coffee shop was almost deserted, and Luke was grateful for that. Collier’s appeals still stung him more than he cared to acknowledge, and he wanted no further complications.

She watched him wanly as he approached the table. It was clear she was trying to keep her expression as cool and severe as it had been the day before, but there was a subtle change in her—something he sensed but could not define.

Her eyes did not quite meet his as he leaned over her table. Steam from the coffee swirled up between them.

“Do you mind if I join you, Ms Randall?” He kept his voice light, reining in the intensity that drove him, he saw her fingers tighten on the mug and then gradually relax.

“Mr Gévaudan. I’m just finishing my coffee—but yes, by all means.” Her tone was distant but lacked the bite of near hostility it had carried in the general store. Luke regarded that as an improvement, however small.

He favored her with a smile. “I think we may have gotten off to a bad start. It wasn’t my intention to offend you in any way. The fact is, we don’t see many strangers here. I guess I let my curiosity get the better of me.”

Her expression wavered between an uneasy frown and a strained smile. ‘I wasn’t very polite myself, Mr Gévaudan. I apologize for that.” For a moment she seemed about to continue, but she dropped her eyes and lapsed into silence.

“In that case, if it’s all right with you, I suggest we start over. My name is Luke Gévaudan.” He extended his hand again, and she freed her grip on the mug to take it. This time her hand barely grazed his, and she pulled it back almost as if she had been burned.

The contact, brief as it was, had an unexpected effect on Luke, and he covered his confusion by sliding into the seat opposite hers. She blinked but did not object, her gaze slid away.

“My name is Joey Randall. But you already knew that, didn’t you?” The bite in her tone was astringent, but she seemed to catch herself and gave him a slight, apologetic smile. “Sorry. My name is Joelle, but I go by Joey. That’s what I prefer.”

Luke rested his arms on the table. “Joey. And please call me Luke. What I said yesterday about informality still applies.” He sought her eyes, but she continued to avoid his gaze, looking everywhere else with a nonchalance he knew she didn’t feel. “Now that we’ve met, I hope we can be friends.”

Her face flushed again, with a visible effort she collected herself and finally met his eyes. “I’ll be honest with you Luke.” The words were almost toneless. “I was telling you the truth yesterday. I’ve got some very important business to attend to in the next week or so—and it’s really taking most of my time and energy. I don’t think I’d be a very good friend just now.”

“I heard about your meeting with the wolf the other day,” Luke persisted softly. “Wolves won’t hurt you—but if you wouldn’t mind taking some advice, stay away from the high meadows and open woodlands from now on. The grizzlies are foraging for winter, and many of the sows have cubs with them. They can be extremely unpredictable.

“I appreciate your advice, Luke, but I’m not entirely without intelligenc.e I have no desire to be eaten by a bear, believe me.” For a moment there was heat in her voice; she reached over her shoulder to run fingers along her braid, tidying it, and Luke watched her with a hunger he struggled to conceal.

“Good. Being smart and cautious can help you survive up here,” he said, leaning back in a stretch. He saw her eyes brush over him. There was something there, something she could have hidden from anyone else. Anyone but him. “This isn’t what you’re used to, coming from down South.”

“Believe me, I’ll take your warnings under consideration.” Her eyes dropped to regard the coffee before her; she raised it to her lips and grimaced in distaste. Luke could see that her hands were shaking. “It’s cold.”

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