Allister, J. Rose - Discarded Cowboys [Lone Wolves of Shay Falls 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (11 page)

She had barely made it into the woods when Drew suddenly materialized in front of her, cutting her off. She let out a shriek of surprise. Somehow he’d gotten in front of her without making a sound, despite the cowboy boots he was still wearing.

“Leave me alone,” she said, clutching at her chest to still the heartbeat jolted into overdrive.

“And I suppose you know the way back to the campground?” he asked, folding his arms.

“I’m not an idiot,” she snapped. “I saw which way we came.” Sort of. And from upside down.

“Really? Because you’re goin’ the wrong way.”

“I am?” Her eyes flicked around, and she turned to survey the cabin behind her. “I was sure we came this way.”

He shook his head. “And if I pointed you
that
direction,” he said, jabbing a finger toward a path off the right side of the cabin, “how are you plannin’ on makin’ the journey?”

“On two feet, of course. Same as you.”

He grinned. “Darlin’, I understand how havin’ your hands all over Russell’s hot skin can make one a mite oblivious, but surely you realized we were movin’ at wolf speed? We’re supernatural and it took us an hour to get here. For a little spitfire like you, you’re talkin’ a day-and-a-half walk.”

“My hands were not all over him.” Still, her eyes widened. She knew they’d been moving fast, but they’d really come that far? No wonder she’d felt sick.

Drew flicked a glance at the half moon overhead. “Or should I put it this way? Two long nights alone in the woods, where all manner of critters more dangerous than we are would love to sink their teeth in your tender flesh.”

“It won’t be that long,” she said. “The clan will be looking for me.”

A growl sounded behind her, and she spun around with a gasp. The wolf stalking her had familiar reddish-brown fur, along with serious-looking fangs and a feral gaze that he leveled on her. Panic shot her behind Drew where he could shield her, and she gripped his powerful arms while peering around him at the beast. She saw its fur jutting out at odd angles from around the bandage on its side.

“It’s just Russell,” Drew said over his shoulder. “But if you take off alone, that might not be the case next time.” To the wolf he said, “You shouldn’t be shiftin’ with that cut, if you can help it.”

“I know who it is,” she snapped, still cowering behind him. “That doesn’t mean I trust him.”

Drew laughed. “Yeah, I suppose we all have some trust issues in this relationship.”

She rolled her eyes. “We don’t have a ‘relationship.’” Nevertheless, she quite suddenly became aware of the warm, inviting muscles beneath her hands and the spicy scent of his musk. She dropped her arms immediately.

The wolf straightened up on hind legs, its fur disappearing into the shape of a once-again-naked Russell. “No, we have more than that. Much more.”

She came around to stand beside Drew. “I hardly consider kidnapping to be a relationship, let alone more.”

Russell cocked his head. “Yeah? What are you in such a hurry to run back to, Tal? A life where folks leave you to fend for yourself on a strange, dangerous mountain just because you
touched
me?”

“That is the Romani way. I wouldn’t expect gadjes to understand.”

Drew turned to her. “But you aren’t runnin’ back to them, are you? You’re runnin’ away from us.”

She pushed a stray curl away from her face. “Do you blame me? I don’t want this.”

“Are you truly runnin’ away because you don’t want us?” he asked. “Or are you runnin’ because you do?”

She never got the chance to protest the assumption. Drew’s mouth came down, his lips engulfing hers with a need that stole her breath. Tingles shot along her extremities as his tongue prodded for entrance, and without thinking, she parted her lips for him.

Russell came up behind her, sweeping her hair away to lay down a fiery trail of kisses along her neck that made her shiver. She jerked in shock at the feel of his erect cock grinding against her ass, and she broke away from Drew’s kiss.

“I can’t,” she whispered. “This is wrong.”

“No, Tal,” Russell crooned into her ear. “We are the only men it’ll ever be right with.”

“It’s not right for me with any man, let alone two.” She put her hands on Drew’s chest when he tried to claim her lips again. “That’s why I’ve never, well, why I can’t
give
myself.”

She felt Russell stiffen, and he took her upper arm to spin her toward him. “But your father said you were married.”

“I was.”

His eyes glittered gold in warning. “I’m supposed to believe your husband just left you be?”

“I didn’t say that.” She pulled out of his grip and backed away from them, hoping to figure out how to breathe again. “I don’t want to talk about this with you.”

Russell growled. “I’m the one person you damn well should talk about this with.”

Chill mountain air penetrated her skin now that she was no longer pressed between their superheated bodies, though as she rubbed her bare shoulders, she wondered whether that was truly why she shivered.

“Look, could we please go back inside? It’s cold out here.”

“You’re the one who came flyin’ out the door like the cabin was on fire,” Drew said, but they headed back.

“Tell me what happened with your husband,” Russell persisted when they were back in the quaint living room.

Drew plopped down in the leather chair she’d abandoned earlier, his long legs stretched out in front of him. She sat on the plaid sofa, feeling a bit disconcerted when Russell didn’t follow suit. He had thankfully put on the jeans he’d shucked just inside the cabin door, but now he stood over her, shirtless, staring down with his arms crossed and a generous amount of gold flaring in his eyes.

“Stop doing that,” she said. “You’re not the
krisari
.”

“The who?”

“Kris is their form of law,” Drew said. “Like a court. Krisari Roms are judges.”

She stared at Drew. “How do you know so much about our ways?”

He shrugged. “Let’s just say I’ve had dealin’s with Rom in the past.”

“And you didn’t answer the question,” Russell said, eyeing her.

She glared at him, but gave up with a sigh. “Romani marriages are arranged by our families. I was promised to Yoska when we were two years old.”

“And you married him.” The flat tone held a hint of accusation.

“I was sixteen when the wedding was planned. I spent the night before in the women’s tent, as is our custom.” She felt her lips draw tight on the rest, and she stopped.

“And?” Drew prompted, now gazing at her with curiosity.

“My mother came to the tent, and the other women were sent away so we could speak privately. I presumed she meant to give me some words of wisdom, although I couldn’t imagine anything she could say that would change the way I felt.”

“How did you feel?” Russell asked, his tone wary.

“Terrified. Panicked that I was about to do the wrong thing.”

Now his lips drew tight. “Because you were. You sensed it even then.”

“I had known Yoska all my life, but I knew nothing about him. Nothing that made me feel we should be together that way. But such things are not how marriages are determined in our culture.”

“No,” Drew said, “they’re little more than sales contracts, aimin’ to boost the family’s financial or political position.”

“So did your mother help convince you?” Russell asked.

She swallowed, her throat suddenly tight. “She never got the chance. We’d barely started talking when she responded to something she seemed to sense outside. She told me to wait in the tent, but curiosity got the better of me and I went after her. I thought it was a man, at first, waiting there for her. But as it turns out, he wasn’t human.”

Drew cleared his throat as he and Russell exchanged looks. “A werewolf? He attacked your mother.”

“Not at first. They were talking, and it was clear that they knew one another. Then my father showed up, and things got ugly. He ordered me back into the tent.” She closed her eyes, wishing she could tell the story without having to remember that night. “This time, I obeyed. The sounds were terrible. Vicious shouts, violent animal growls. I covered my ears and prayed it would end, and unfortunately, it did. By the time silence fell, my mother was dead. So was the werewolf that had killed her.”

The room fell silent for a short span as well, and it was Russell who spoke first. “I am so sorry, Talaitha.”

She brushed away memories threatening to return. “The wedding was postponed, obviously. Six months was given for grieving and cleansing following the death, and I managed to stretch that time out to a year. But when I was seventeen, the wedding tent was again put up, and I was expected to walk into it and join myself to Yoska. And that’s what I did.”

She could see dangerous little flames dancing in Russell’s gaze, but it was Drew who spoke up. “I’m surprised the clan didn’t view what happened as a bad omen for the marriage. Your father didn’t try to stop to the weddin’ altogether?”

A bitter snort escaped her lips. “Oh, there were murmurs of it being
prikaza
, like you said. I myself pleaded that point with my father several times. But what happened did not deter him. If anything, he seemed more desperate than ever to marry me off to Yoska.”

“So you were officially married to the man,” Russell said. “But he never made love to you?”

“Not for lack of trying.” She felt her face grow hot, and she stared down at her feet. “I mean, he wanted what he had every right to expect as my lawful husband. But I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t give myself to him like that.”

She rose and paced the small room, clutching at her upper arms. “He was actually quite patient with me at first. He assumed my reluctance was because the wedding brought back memories of my mother. I thought that was it, too, for a time. But it never got any better.”

“That wasn’t the reason,” Russell said. “Werewolf mates will instinctively avoid sex with anyone other than their destined partners.”

She blinked as a note of truth rang through his words. She’d never considered it before, but now she had the odd feeling he was right. Part of her had been holding out for the right partner, only she’d never found him. Until now.

“How long did this go on?” Drew asked.

“Six months.”

The men stared at her. “That man was your husband for six
months
and never touched you?” Russell asked in obvious astonishment. “I can’t be near you for five minutes without havin’ to have my hands on you. Maybe I should revise my opinion of him.”

She felt her stomach warm. “He tried every single night to get me into his bed. Because I would get so completely hysterical, he backed off rather than forcing the issue. At least, until the final night, when he came home late from the campfire. He’d been drinking and talking to some of the men, and finally admitted I hadn’t let him touch me. They were appalled, of course. They advised him to stop giving me so much freedom and simply take what was his. They said I’d grow to like it if he made me see it wasn’t so bad.”

Russell’s nostrils flared. “He raped you?”

“Almost. He was good and drunk, not to mention very strong.”

“How did you stop him?” Russell’s voice rose until it boomed through the small room.

“He backed me into the tiny closet in the motor home we shared, and the box holding my wedding veil came tumbling down onto my head. I grabbed the veil and tied it around my lower half and through my legs tight, so he couldn’t, well, get through the layers to finish the deed.”