Winter Takes All (Paranormal Dating Agency Book 19) Page 4

  He ran his hands over her arms to make sure nothing was misaligned. Her green thermal shirt clung to her arms, making detection easy. But the pants were another story. He’d have to take them off to check her legs.

  After he removed her boots—she’d tied the damn things with double knots which after ten minutes of trying to get them undone, he was tempted to pop out a claw and slice the damn things—he unhooked the straps from her shoulders and worked the overalls down her body. When he reached her waist, he paused.

  Surely she had thermals or jeans on underneath, right? Shit, he felt like a pervert undressing an unconscious woman. Yeah, had her in the house for ten minutes and had her clothes off already. He shook his head.

  He inched the snow pants lower to see the waistband of a pair of jeans. He blew out a breath and slid the red fabric completely off and draped them over the footboard. Carefully, he smoothed his hands down each leg feeling for bumps under the muscle. And muscles she had. She was strong and toned like she ran or hiked a lot. He imagined her legs bare, wrapped around his waist, their silkiness, shapeliness, her skin so soft as he fucked her.

  A sudden heat struck him, sweat beading on his upper lip. He shoved away from the bed and left the curtained-off area. He was too close to the fireplace beside the bed. Yeah, that was it—the fire was too hot. Denial, he knew it well. She wasn’t really his mate; he wasn’t attracted to her. He wasn’t thinking about waking her and warming her skin to skin. Sliding his cock into her warmth and taking her hard and fast.

  He grabbed a metal cup from the cabinet and dipped it into the water cauldron and lifted out a full mug of hot water. Tevrik carried it with him out the side door into the room he grew veggies and fruits in. Stopping at the herbs, he plucked a touch of chamomile, ginger, and lemongrass and placed them in the center of a square piece of fabric that he gathered and tied at the top with a string.

  From there, he dropped the herb packet into the water to steep. At least she could have tea when she woke. Not much more he could offer, well, his body but not his heart. This too would pass and he could get back to his day-to-day life.

  And wasn’t that damn pathetic? He had nothing more he could offer to anyone, much less a mate. No woman in her right mind would want to stay here in a cabin he built with his own hands in an environment that could kill the mightiest of shifters. No, his wolf would have to deal with her leaving. She couldn’t be theirs.

  Tevrik turned back to the bedroom where the woman laid. He hesitated, then pushed aside the muslin curtain separating the bedroom from the living area. He set the mug on the bedside table, trying not to look at her. Just her presence made him anxious.

  Damn, she looked so fragile. His protective instincts ignited with a fury. Something he hadn’t felt since he was with the pack. She was perfect, a porcelain doll and he was taking her down the mountain as soon as she woke.

  With shaky hands, Tevrik grabbed her coat from the chair by the fire and draped it over her body. The heat trapped in the material would keep her warm for a while. Long enough for him to get control of himself.

  His wolf growled, he didn’t want their mate to leave. Tevrik struggled to contain him. He backed away from the bed and the angel in it. He was not going to claim his mate, not caress her body from head to toe, slide his cock into her warm pussy over and over until she begged for more. He struggled against the temptation she posed, and it ate at him.

  In the living room, he rapidly paced in front of the fire, his hands pulled at his hair. What the hell was happening to him? He sees a beautiful woman and he and his wolf fucking freak out?

  In his T-shirt and jeans, he stomped outside and saw the wood chopping station. Yes, he needed more wood before the storm hit. Not really, but that’s what he told himself as he hefted the ax and swung, splitting a large piece with one blow. And then another and another.

  6

  A rhythmic sound, like a drum with an intermittent beat, woke Juliet. She tried to place the noise, but none of her neighbors had a bass drum. Maybe one of the kids took up marching band.

  Then she smelled burning wood and heard popping and crackling like a campfire would make. Her first thought was that her condo was on fire. She bolted up, eyes wide, and pain so intense hit her in the chest, she almost blacked out. She fell back onto the bed and she didn’t move, didn’t breathe, she hurt so bad.

  Eventually, she had to breathe a little. Just a little, not enough to cause agony. Eyes opening again, she stared at a ceiling that was not in her home. She was somewhere else. Someone had kidnapped her again? Terror from her abduction by Antler’s sheriff earlier in the year rushed through her. She had to get away.

  Then her brain registered that her arms were free as were her feet. Whoever had captured her was really dumb not to bind her. Then again, maybe she wasn’t in danger. She thought back to her last memory which was sending the snow depth stat to the lab with a note she’d be back in two weeks. Nothing after that.

  One thing was for certain. She wasn’t on the beach. But where was she?

  Her eyes trailed down the side of the shaved-log wall, a window close to the end of the bed. She started to reach out to touch it to see if it was real wood, but her ribs twinged with pain. She rolled her head to see the other side of her bed. That wall consisted of stacked rocks of various sizes.

  In the spaces between the rocks were gaps she could see the fire. Heat filtered through the holes keeping the area she was in warm. She knew the rocks would be warm too, giving off heat to hold the temp steady for several hours if the fire went out. Smart use of natural materials to stay warm.

  The thumping sound continued. The source was outside, not too far. Tilting her head toward her toes, she saw a curtain draped over a whittled-smooth tree limb that reached from wall to fireplace wall, not that the distance was that much. Only the bed and a small table next to her pillow occupied the space. Couldn’t be more than seven-foot square.

  She glanced at the piece of furniture beside her and for a moment she was stunned by its beauty. A painstaking, hard-carved image of wolves along a creek in the forest—oh my god, done in relief even—was whittled into the top. The trees looked to be swaying in the breeze and the creek had fish that looked like they were underwater. How was this made? Had to be with a computer and fine pointed tools. This must’ve cost the owner a fortune. Though you wouldn’t know it by everything else in the place.

  A dented metal cup sat on the detailed table. She’d love to have a drink of water. Maybe if she slowly sat up, she’d be okay. Using her arms, she carefully lifted her shoulders and pushed back, keeping her stomach muscles relaxed. She scooted up a foot before pain sucked her breath away, constricting her chest and lungs.

  After the pain relinquished, she was able to reach the cup and drag it closer. Taking it into her hands, she smelled sweet, calming herbs. Chamomile for certain. She sipped—ginger and lemongrass. The temperature was perfect for hot tea. The liquid felt good going down.

  What else was there to see? The thumping beat on.

  Beyond the partially opened curtain at the end of the bed, she saw the front wall with a window letting in deep red light. Was the sun setting? She had a couple hours before sunset, if she remembered correctly.

  Below the window was a table for two with only one chair. Both looked handmade from real trees. She imagined the reliefs decorating the table were astounding.

  That was all of the cabin she could see. Her tiny bedroom was tucked into a back corner next to the fireplace wall.

  Cozy, she kinda liked it. She thought about all the crap in her bedroom at home. Everything was just material objects to look at. She didn’t need any of it. Just a bed and a small table.

  Setting the half-full cup on the table, she felt much better. She had control of her situation and was ready to meet the home’s owner.

  “Hello?” The sound scratched out barely a whisper. She could try taking a deeper breath, but the idea of pain radiating through her wasn’t pleasing. Now that she wa
s sitting up, she pegged the thumping sound at a short distance on the other side of the wall next to her. If she could get to the window a few feet away, she could see what the hell was making that noise.

  Very slowly and carefully, she inched her way toward the glass. Trying to ignore the jabs of pains, she leaned to peek out.

  Holy hunk with an ax.

  A tall, hunk of a man stood thirty feet away murdering chunks of wood. The ax swung up, lifting his white shirt which was drenched in sweat and clung to his chest. Talk about a wet T-shirt contest. Ripples all the way down his abs, she drooled at the sight.

  His biceps bulged, stretching the short sleeves’ cuffs. Muscles in his forearms were even pumped. The worn jeans he sported were tight around the thighs, and when the ax fell, he leaned forward showing her his very rounded, very bitable ass.

  Her nose bumped against the glass. Was she actually drooling? Damn, her panties were probably wet.

  As if he heard her thoughts, he turned and looked directly in the window. She sprang back from the sill, sending knife jabs through her sides. Her body contorted, hitting her head against the footboard and rolling to drop onto the floor. She heard a pop and prayed it wasn’t a rib bone breaking.

  Juliet lay on the hardwood, not breathing, not blinking, not anything but feeling the piercing fire shooting through her torso and head. She felt her body convulse and thankfully passed out.

  Coming to, her first thought was what was licking her face. The second thought was had the licker ever brushed their teeth. Massive dog breath. When a high-pitched whine met her ears, she opened her eyes to see a panting muzzle below a pair of penetrating sapphire eyes. Fully white and fluffy, the dog was beautiful and cute with his tongue hanging out.

  The dog got to its feet and Juliet saw how big it was. She was wrong; it wasn’t a dog, but a wolf—huge Arctic wolf. A lot like the one she saw a long time ago.

  But blue eyes weren’t characteristic for an arctic wolf. From her research on the animal, she learned they had brown eyes. So what was she looking at?

  Considering she had dog slobber on her face and no tooth marks, she figured the wolf was tame. Must’ve been the guy’s pet. She could give him an earful about domesticating wild animals. She said out loud to the wolf,

  “While having a wild pet might be nice for the human, it’s not the best for you. You can’t follow your natural instincts if kept in a house. And if that man chains you to keep from running away, I will eviscerate him.” Anger flared then died. She was talking to an animal like it would reply. Maybe she hit her head when her ribs were hurt.

  Shaking her head at her insaneness, she realized she needed to get off the damn floor. When she took a bigger breath to sit up, pain speared her side, stealing the air from her lungs. The ache was so sharp, it brought tears to her eyes. She lay flat, not moving, breathing as little as possible.

  The puppy, well, big wolf puppy, whimpered and settle on the floor next to her, licking her cheek. Whining, he rested his head on the wood beams. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear the wolf understood the pain she was in. Maybe animals could. She never had a dog.

  Sweat popped out on her brow. How that could happen in this cold atmosphere was beyond her, but her body wasn’t doing well at the moment. The animal scooted closer and dug his nose under her hand. Juliet lifted her fingers and scratched under the furry chin. So soft. She’d never felt fabric this luxurious. Showed Mother Nature couldn’t be outdone with fake human crap.

  “Okay, puppy, we’ve got to get back into bed or freeze on this damn floor. Where is your owner? I know he saw me through the window. Why hasn’t he come in?” Her voice was barely above a whisper as she tried not to breathe much.

  She might not be able to move her upper body, but her legs were fine. Bending her knees, she planted her feet and pushed. Her top wasn’t slick material, but she slid at least a foot. With her head finally at the small table next to her pillow, she wondered how she was getting way up on the mattress.

  Her bangs were drenched with sweat as was her sleeve from dabbing at her forehead. Since when was pushing five feet across the floor hard work? Apparently when ribs were broken.

  Shit. She rolled her head toward the wolf intently watching her. One thing she knew—if the man had a sweet, loving pet, then he wasn’t a mean person. He was probably even “safe.”

  “Seriously, where is your owner? He may be drop-dead gorgeous, having abs with more peaks and valleys than the Book Mountains. And an ass that would squeeze nicely in my hands. Not to mention—”

  Whining, the wolf put its paws over its eyes. It was so damn cute, she barked out a laugh and passed out from the pain and exhaustion.

  7

  The steady rhythm of setting a piece of wood on the stump, swinging the ax, slicing the chunk, picking up another piece, swinging the ax, slicing the chunk, calmed Tevrik. Out in the cold a few steps from his cabin, his heart pounding, blood rushing through his veins, and the breeze on his face, made him feel alive. A lot of times as he lay in Mother Earth’s domain, it was so silent, so dark, he wondered if he could be dead.

  But no. Simply dying would be too easy for him. He needed to endure the pain and loneliness for a long time to atone for his misdeeds.

  He set another log on the stump, swung the ax, sliced the chunk.

  She couldn’t be his mate, well, she could, but she would remain unclaimed. He didn’t deserve happiness. Not now. Never. This was a mean joke. Fate had delivered his angel, so he’d suffer more when she went away. Given him a taste of what he would’ve had if he hadn’t fucked up so badly.

  Fuck. Already he felt the mating call wanting to connect, stretching for the one person born to be his. He couldn’t let that happen. He would take her into town when she woke. His wolf rocketed up, snarling, biting, scratching to get out. Mine.

  Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention, she was awake. He turned to look in the window and glimpsed an image of blond hair before it disappeared.

  His wolf took him to his knees. He wanted to shift and be close to her. His clothes tearing into shreds, Tevrik ceded to the wolf. He had no choice. He gave a full-body shake, took a deep breath, scenting things it hadn’t in years. One smell was the pain from his mate. In this form, maybe he could resist the mating pull.

  He ran to the front of the cabin and pushed on the door until it opened. His mate lay on the floor beside the bed. He hurried inside and sniffed her. Fuck, she smelled so good, he licked her cheek, hoping to wake her. Her heartbeat was strong. She was in no danger of dying.

  Her nose wrinkled up and Tevrik realized he was breathing dog breath right into her face. He backed up and lay on the floor. He didn’t want to frighten her when she woke. If he looked harmless and cute, maybe she wouldn’t freak out with a wild animal in the house.

  He whined, and her eyes opened, staring directly into his. At that moment, he felt their connection click. They were mates, and nothing could be done about it. She stared at him for a long time. He wondered what went through her head.

  Her head turned, and she took a deep breath and started to sit up. The scent of intense physical torment filled the air. She fell back. He crawled closer and licked her cheek again. That was all he could do in this form. He couldn’t trust himself in human form, the pull was too strong. As his wolf, he could stay by her side and give her comfort.

  He wanted to take away her pain. She barely breathed. What was wrong with her? What was hurting so much? Shifters healed when they shifted so he could only imagine what she was going through. He whined with dismay. How could he comfort her?

  She scratched under his chin and he about died, it felt so good. Damn, he’d forgotten how wonderful it was to be scratched and petted.

  The woman spoke, barely a whisper. Her breathing was still shallow. Maybe her ribs were injured. That was very likely for being in an avalanche. Wait. Did she ask about his owner? Owner, my ass, the wolf thought.

  His mate bent her legs and pushed herself
along the floor. She was smart and resourceful, but it was still painful for her. That sour scent followed. He watched, staying close, crawling with her as she moved. He was an asshole, he should have shifted and helped her. Not let her suffer by moving her body. Reaching as far as she could go, she started talking again. This time, the smell from her was fucking delicious. The smell of arousal, she was talking about him chopping wood. Even injured, she was thinking about being attracted to him.

  Uh—oh. Abs like mountains, and an ass she could squeeze. If he could blush in wolf form, he would be beet red. He put his head down and tried to cover his ears, but only got to his eyes with his paw.

  She let out a laugh and then a moan. Then she lay quiet, not moving. She was injured badly. He picked up her steady pulse and released the breath he held. There was nothing he could do as a wolf. He had to shift and control his need for her. Her voice was an aphrodisiac, and he wanted to feel her touch on his skin, not just his wolf’s fur.

  He shifted and looked down at his mate unconscious before him. Probably a good thing, his being naked might have scared her. Carefully, he placed his hands alongside her breasts and let his hands roam along the bones under his fingers. Slowly, he slid down her sides, feeling for broken or misaligned ribs.

  Nothing was out of place at least, but he felt large, tight knots. Could be a cracked rib or just deeply bruised bones making the muscles squeeze around her lungs constricting her breathing. He could take care of that. As far as he could tell, she wasn’t in physical danger. Which was a miracle in itself. He’d seen plenty of avalanches and had no desire to ride one down the mountain.

  There was little choice in how to get her back into bed. He’d have to lift her. This time, he pulled the covers back, then put a hand between her shoulder blades and slid the other under her ass. He couldn’t help but notice how full and soft it felt. He wondered how she would feel with him slapping against her ass as he pumped in and out of her.