Dreaming of the Wolf by Terry Spear Read Free Book Online Page B

who had threatened her and none too happy with Alicia for dismissing him when he knew something like this could happen. Not to mention annoyed with himself for not forcing the issue and staying with her.
    His eyes trailed down her body, but she didn’t appear to have been hurt. He took her hands and drew her into his arms. She trembled, and tears appeared in her eyes before she melted against him.
    “Are you all right?” he asked, his voice a lot rougher than he’d intended as one arm curled around her waist and his free hand rubbed her back reassuringly.
    She nodded, looked back at the wreath as if she was saying her good-byes to her mother, and then said with a shaky voice, “I’ve… I’ve never shot a man before.”
    “He’ll live,” Jake said with sincere regret.
    She walked with him in the direction of the parking lot. “How did you know where to find me?”
    “I watched you enter the florist shop before I dropped my work off at the art gallery. I was worried that the man who hassled you at the restaurant might try again.” He took her hand and interlocked his fingers with hers. Her fingers tightened over his in a welcoming manner. “Do you live in Breckenridge?”
    He didn’t like the idea that she might be in danger if she lived in the area and these thugs had easy access to her.
    “No. I’m staying at a hotel for a few days. Just doing a job.”
    He stopped and looked down at her, his brow deeply furrowed. “You aren’t just doing a job.”
    Her chin lifted a little in defiance, her dark brown eyes narrowing. No argument there, which meant he was correct in his assumption. He had to remind himself she wasn’t a wolf. That she didn’t have a pack. That it shouldn’t matter what a human female had in mind to do.
    But family took care of family. The thought kept nagging at him—where was her family? A father? Siblings? Anyone else? Why was she after these men all on her own? Why wasn’t anyone keeping tabs on her?
    He assumed the judge had set a bail bond low enough that the men had been able to post bail. If they had skipped their court dates, as she assumed, she would be in danger while she trailed them.
    “Admit it. Mario and the other man you mentioned, Danny Massaro, murdered your mother. It’s a vendetta,” he said quietly, but the undercurrent of warning was there. What she was doing was wrong, and it could get her killed.
    “Not a vendetta,” she said icily. “I don’t plan to gun them down like they did my mother. Just return them to jail where they belong. Permanently.”
    She tried to pull her hand free from his, but he wouldn’t let go. With his free hand, he swept the back of his hand down her cheek with a tender caress. “All right, not a vendetta then.” But he still couldn’t see how she planned to safely take these men into custody.
    He wasn’t sure just what about her made his pulse race to such an extent, the way the heat of her hand penetrated his, the way he couldn’t put her out of his mind, stirring a need to be with her and to protect her that he was having a hard time quelling. The expression on her face, though rebellious, appealed to him. Hell, everything about her did.
    Her short-waisted suit jacket hung open as if she’d been ready to remove it to dress in a more casual manner. But he knew that had to do with her having easy access to her gun, although the holstered weapon was still hidden. His gaze drifted down to where the ice-white silken blouse revealed the faint outline of her bra and a hint of lace, baring the sexier side of her outfit. Round pearl-button fasteners on her blouse captured his attention, and briefly, he wanted to touch them, to poke one after another through the slivers of their buttonholes, to see the rest of her as nature had intended.
    She cleared her throat, and he returned his gaze to her face. A small smile tugged at her lips, and her brows lifted in a way that said she knew exactly where his thoughts had roamed.
    Although he