Lone Wolfe by Kate Hewitt Read Free Book Online Page B

to softness, and held it to her face; it smelled like soap. It
smelled like Jacob.
                 He’d
been in here, just a few metres away from the bathroom, while she’d been
soaking in the tub. Naked. Groaning a little, Mollie
buried her face in the T-shirt. Why was she thinking this way? Feeling this way
about Jacob Wolfe? He was so inappropriate as boyfriend material it was laughable. She
couldn’t even believe she’d mentally put boyfriend and Jacob Wolfe in the same sentence.
She did not still have a stupid
schoolgirl crush on him, she told herself fiercely. She didn’t even want a
boyfriend, or husband, or lover of any kind. Her business was going to take up
all of her time and energy, and after five years of caring for her father, her
emotional reserves were surely at an all-time low. She didn’t need the
complication of caring for another person.
                 But what about desire?
                 She
couldn’t ignore the fact that Jacob Wolfe was quite possibly the most
attractive man she’d ever seen, or that her body responded to him in the most
basic, elemental way.
                 Still,
Mollie told herself as she slipped Jacob’s T-shirt over her head, she didn’t have to act on that attraction. She didn’t have to do anything about
desire. And she wouldn’t have the opportunity anyway, because as far as she
could tell Jacob didn’t even like her very much.
                 She
slipped on the track bottoms, which engulfed her, and rolling up the cuffs, she
cinched them at the waist with the belt. She looked ridiculous, she knew, but
it was better than wearing clothes that were two sizes too small and a decade
out of date.
                 Taking
her torch, Mollie started down the corridor, in search of the kitchen.
                 There
was something a bit creepy about walking through the darkened, dust-shrouded
manor on her own . She wondered how Jacob felt living
here. Surely a hotel or rented flat would be more comfortable. As she made her
way downstairs she peeked into several rooms; some looked as if they’d been
cleaned but others were frozen in time, untouched save for dust and cobwebs.
She pictured Jacob in the manor, moving about these rooms, haunted by their
memories, and suppressed an odd shiver.
                 She
finally found the kitchen in the back of the house, a huge room now flickering
with candlelight. Jacob had brought in several old silver candelabra and
positioned them in various points around the room so the space danced with
shadows.
                 ‘You
made it.’ Jacob turned around and in the dim light Mollie thought she saw his
teeth flash white in a smile. ‘I hope you didn’t get lost.’
                 ‘Almost.’ She smiled back. ‘Actually, I just had a good long
soak in the tub. It felt amazing.’ She gestured to the clothes she wore. ‘Thank
you. This was very thoughtful.’
                 ‘I
realised Annabelle’s clothes were undoubtedly musty. They haven’t been worn or
even aired in years.’
                 ‘It’s
strange,’ Mollie murmured, ‘how forgotten everything is. I haven’t been inside
the house in years. I didn’t realise how much had been left.’
                 Jacob
stilled, and Mollie could feel his tension. She knew the exact moment when he
released it and simply shrugged. ‘Everyone made their own lives away from
here.’
                 ‘I
know.’
                 He
reached for two plates, sliding her a sideways glance.
‘Yes, you must know better than anyone, Mollie. You watched it all happen. You
were the one who was left last of all, weren’t you?’ He spoke quietly, without
mockery, and yet his words stung because she knew how true they were. She’d
felt it, year after year, labouring alone.
                 ‘Yes,’
she said quietly. ‘I was.’