PRINCE OF WOLVES By Susan Krinard

Luke looked down at the pale crown of her head, breathing in the scent of her hair. “The forest has many mysteries,” he murmured. “There are things here few human beings have ever seen.”

“But you have?” She stopped to meet his eyes, the deep brown of her own catching the last of the light filtering through the trees. “Do you suppose you might be willing to show me some of these ‘mysteries’?” Her voice had suddenly become throaty, her expression almost an invitation.

Luke shifted to face her, bringing his hand up to touch her shoulder in the lightest of caresses, deliberately keeping his craving in check. “That might be possible. Very possible.”

He leaned forward slowly, and she did not draw back, his face hovered inches above her own. Parted and full of promise, her lips beckoned.

Her deft retreat was so subtle it took him completely unaware. Somehow she slipped away, moving back until she stood once more against the anchor of a sturdy fir. A smile flickered on her face, almost teasing, he drew in his breath and forced it out again carefully.

“If you want to see things no other woman has seen, I can show them to you,” he breathed, his footsteps soundless as they passed among the ferns and fallen needles. She was tall, but she had to look up at him as he advanced to trap her against the tree. He stopped mere inches away, letting her feel his nearness, not quite touching. “Is that what you want, Joey?”

Her eyes were hooded with deliberate allure. “What do you want, Luke?” She stretched her arms behind her, curving about the trunk, open and vulnerable. He gave up any pretense of circumspection.

“You know what I want, Joelle.” He pressed against her, feeling the swell of her breasts, his arousal hard where she was soft. He set his hands to the rough bark on either side of her, leaning forward until the pale hair falling over her forehead stirred with his breath. Her palms came up flat against his chest, and his heart beat hard under her touch. Never, never had he wanted any woman this much. But soon, soon, he would have her.

The pressure of her hands was firm and steady. “I know what you want, Luke. I’m flattered by your interest.” Her eyes flickered down. “I’ve never been the impulsive type, but you’re very persuasive. If only I didn’t have other commitments, things I have to do first.” Her voice was still throaty, but it quivered now, her body resisting his. The words cut through his potent hunger like a dash of water from a mountain stream.

He froze and stared into her eyes. She looked up, blinking but holding his gaze unwaveringly. “I know what you want, Luke. And maybe, if I can finish what I set out to do here, I might feel free to accept what we could both enjoy.” She let out her breath slowly. “If you’ll help me, Luke.”

A tremor ran through Luke, a shudder of unexpected fury. For a long moment he wavered between taking her then and there, silencing her cold bargaining with the rage of his lust and abandoning her to the uncertain mercy of the forest. But he drew into himself, allowing the anger to become cold and hard, as it did when he caught the townsfolk glaring at him with their implacable bigotry.

He withdrew from her slowly, pulling his body away until he could no longer feel her compelling warmth.

“So.”

He looked her up and down, and she set her jaw defiantly. Even now he could admire her for that. “You’ve been playing a nice little game with me, Joey. A dangerous game.” He suppressed the desire to turn and pace furiously up and down before her. “I’m not in the mood for any more games. You want something from me. What is it?”

To her credit, she never hesitated. “I want you to guide me up into the mountains to find the place where my parents died.” She let the words fall into silence.

Luke stood very still, listening to the wind in the tops of the spruce and fir. “Of course. That is why you came to Lovell, isn’t it?”

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