Winter of the Wolf by Cherise Sinclair Read Free Book Online Page A

her.
    “Relax, a leannan . I don’t go around attacking females.” He stepped back and went into the living room.
    She huffed out a shaky breath and sagged against the wal.
    I need a gun . Of course, shooting the landlord would mean no bed tonight, and she realy wanted a place to stay.
    If he’d rent her anything now. He probably thought she was crazy. She walked out of the bedroom and saw him leaning on the far wal. “I’m sorry. Too much caffeine makes me jumpy,” she said.
    “I’ve heard it can do that.” His expression said he didn’t believe a word of it.
    “Why do you have metal bars on the windows?”
    “When the cabins are empty, critters can be a problem.” Critters . She shivered.
    Eyes the color of a winter sky studied her. “Too much caffeine, huh,” he said in a dry voice.

    * * *
    She signed the rental papers and handed over a check.
    She signed the rental papers and handed over a check.
    God, three weeks sounded like such a long, long time to be away. After taking an ibuprofen—she’d realy hit that wal hard—she showered and had to force herself to stop scrubbing. Would there ever come a time she didn’t smel that creature’s stench on her skin? Didn’t feel soiled?
    After unpacking, she lay on the bed, trying to relax and failing miserably. This wasn’t her place. It was al wrong. She wanted to go home. Not happening, so get over it, Bree .
    Then again, she’d never had a home as a kid, so maybe she’d skipped the homesick stage and needed to go through it now. Her lips curved in a wry smile. Naptime would be good right about now, too.
    But she couldn’t keep from staring at the metal bars on the window. They looked easy to open from inside, so could someone—something—open one from outside?
    Unable to shake the thought, she raised the window, then went outside. Stretching her arm past the window and bars, she tried to reach the clasp that would let her push the bars open. Couldn’t. She put her face against the glass to check how far her fingers fel short.
    “If you’re breaking in, try the door. It’s open.” The man’s voice sounded like gravel.
    She spun and bumped into the cabin wal. Pain ripped through her shoulder. Darn it. Bracing her feet, she raised her fists and got a look at the person.
    fists and got a look at the person.
    Her spine chiled as if gripped in an icy hand. Wiling her lungs to work again, she stared at him. The man was even taler than her landlord, and one cheek had the same knife-like blue mark. Sinister white scars marked his neck. His forearms. His powerful hands. His eyes were so dark a brown they were almost black with a terrifying coldness—
    like there was no human home in there.
    The guy looked like he kiled puppies for fun.
    “I’m not breaking in,” she said, trying not to act like a petrified rabbit. Slowly, she eased away from the wal and lowered her fists. “This is my cabin.”
    Straight black hair reached past his shoulders, and he had the dusky complexion of someone of mixed Native American descent. His brows lifted. “We have a renter?” We ? Please say this cruel-looking character wasn’t her landlord. He wasn’t anything like Shay. Wel, other than being seriously huge. Shay’d been pretty nice, al in al; this guy looked like he could rip apart a bear. With his bare hands. “Shay rented me this cabin.” Not you .
    “I’m Zeb Damron. Shay and I run this place together.” He loomed over her—far too much like her nightmares—and held out his hand. “You got a name?”
    “Breanne Galagher.” She gritted her teeth. I am fine. I am. I can touch him . She’d been through this fear as a teen after Mr. Harvey tried to force her. She just had to gut it out again. So when his scarred-up, calused hand engulfed hers, she squeezed hard, trying to crush his bones and show him what a tough bitch she was.
    His expression didn’t change. “I make you nervous.” There wasn’t a shadow of a doubt in his voice, but no triumph