Heart Of The Wolf (14 page)

Jeeeeesus
Christ!

“Us.”

If she'd
thought for one minute that her second climax couldn't be as strong
as the first, she was proven wrong. Good job she hadn't placed any
bets.

On the edge of
her orgasm, he pulled out of her sharply, and it rocketed her onto
the crest of her frenzy before she could register it was happening.
All thought disappeared. There was only sensation – sharp, focused,
clear and catastrophically euphoric.

She was only
mildly aware of lightning flashing from her; ricocheting along her
body, or so it seemed, and lighting up the room.

She dreamily
heard Ryan's low growl, turn into a moan, and then a groan, and
then he was gripping her thighs tightly with both hands as he came
right there where he knelt.

Ten seconds of
panting as they both tried to catch their breath, and then he was
pulling her up; swooping her into his arms as he captured her lips
in an all-consuming, yet tender kiss made up of everything he never
said.

She smiled
into his mouth. “That was … wow.”

“It's always
wow. You're wow. I'll never get enough of you, Lydia. Not after ten
years in dreams; not after forever in real life.”

She soaked in
his words with delirious joy and a full-to-bursting heart. This was
the absolute most of his emotions – everything she had ever felt
from him in their dreams – that he'd shown her for the past four
weeks. And it was pretty damn close to what she needed to hear.

Make the first
move – sometimes you have to. Tell him you love him.

Her hand found
his face; so ruggedly handsome with its two faint scars, dark brown
hair and liquid-brown eyes. “Ryan, I … erm … I—”

He stopped her
words with another kiss. “Me first. I wanted to speak with you
alone, and not just about your nightmares … there's something else
I need to say…”

Oh, god,
this is it!
But it wasn't joy that burst her heart on his next
words – it was a lancing pain.

“I'll be out
of reach for a bit. I have to go to Wiltshire, and I'm leaving in
fifteen minutes.”

Chapter Eight

It shouldn't
matter. It was just a few hours. But not having Ryan around, today
of all days, pressed her panic button. It was her first full moon,
and the pack was wary of her. She really needed him here – why did
it have to be
now
he left? Why not tomorrow?

She'd spent
less time with Ryan – the heart-to-heart kind of time, not the sex
time – than she would have liked since moving here, but more than
either Taylor or Lawrence, Ryan was her rock. He was certainty and
solidity, and at a time when she needed those things the most, she
felt it all being ripped from under her feet.

That, and the
crushing disappointment that she didn't feel like she could admit
the true extent of her feelings to her mates, was enough to make
her feel more than unsteady.

Damn it, she'd
known it would be like this: the
need
to
be around her mates all the time, and the feelings
of pain and anxiety when she wasn't. Her friends would have scoffed
at it and called it being 'under the thumb' – it was the reason
she'd never done relationships. Suffocation rose within her at the
inconsolable difference between her human half and her wolf
half.

There was also
the inexplicable sense of unease that had begun since she'd scented
Selena in the house with Taylor this morning. That feeling of
apprehension hadn't worn off, and she was certain it wasn't just
down to her wolf's possessiveness. The calm before the storm was
probably an accurate way to describe it – it was exactly how she
felt – but she couldn't say it out loud without sounding like some
kind of jealous freak. Lawrence had already put it down to her
first full moon, which was logical, and she didn't blame him his
reasoning, but … no. There was something else…

She reached
her bedroom to find Taylor standing outside her door smelling …
god almighty
– her stomach somersaulted – smelling like Ryan
all over! And earth.

Ryan, Taylor
and earth, combined.

Steaming hot,
man-on-man action – in mud, and leaves and stuff – corrupted her
mind, just as it had earlier.

He smiled.
“Hey, you.”

Shake those
thoughts right out!
“Hey.”

“How are you
doing?”

“I feel like
I've got cabin fever. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'd give
anything to be waiting tables right now – anything to get me out of
this house.”

“It's too
risky, you know that. After tonight, everything's going to be so
much easier.”

Why didn't she
believe him?

“Did Ryan tell
you … what he needed to?”

“That he's
leaving? Yeah.”

“He'll be
okay.”

“You know,
everyone keeps saying that everything's going to be okay, and it
kind of just makes me feel like it's not,” she said, not really
meaning to snap at him, but managing to anyway.

“Sorry.”

She sighed.
“No, I'm sorry.”

“Come
here…”

She fell into
his open arms and sank into his chest with a little sound of
appreciation.

“Ryan's sworn
he'll be back for your change. I'll stay with you until he returns
… if you want me to that is.”

She smiled.
“I'd love you to.”

“Also, I'm
happy to wear condoms.”

Her smile
turned into a grin. “Are you teasing me, Mr Harper?”

“No. I mean it
… and yeah, maybe a little.”

She laughed.
“They seemed like a good purchase at the time.”

“Yes, those
buy one, get one free offers are gold.”

She gave him a
slap on the arm. “Hey! Am I never going to hear the end of
this?”

“Not for a
while, I should imagine. We'd be the first wolves in the history of
werewolves to wear protection during sex, and you'd be the first
female to make it happen … although if anyone can make it
happen…”

“Shall I just
get all three of you neutered instead?”

“Ouch.”

“Definitely
ouch – let's stick with condoms. I'm willing to roll them on myself
with fingers, tongue and teeth.”

“Now we're
talking!”

She grinned.
She was feeling better already. “I love playful Taylor.” And then
she froze. That hadn't been a clumsy declaration of love,
right?

Apparently
not, since he didn't pick up on it. Relieved, she reached up to
plant a kiss on his lips. After what had just happened with Ryan,
she needed to be ready before laying herself bare like that. She
needed to prepare for rejection, because it wasn't like she could
stop being mated to them if they never felt the same way. And even
though she was in love with all three of them, she knew they
weren't yet ready to love her.

~*~

Sarah numbly
rifled through the papers in the box that had been on the top of
the wardrobe in the spare room. Beth and Holly were doing the same
with two other piles. They'd been at this for almost an hour and
had already ransacked the wardrobe and drawers in her own
bedroom.

The
conversation with her mother on the phone had been just as odd as
anything else that had taken place today. Her entire family had no
recollection of Taylor, or her wedding, and just like her, they had
no idea why she would have changed her surname to Harper by deed
poll. If she'd been feeling uneasy earlier, it was a full blown,
fractious, anxiety taking its place now.

“Here!” cried
Beth. “I've got it.”

Sarah and
Holly both leaned over her shoulder to find her clutching Sarah's
old diary open on the date of her wedding. You wouldn't recognise
the book as a diary. The cover had been falling apart and Sarah had
created a new one for it that made it look more like a plain
notebook.

I remember
doing
that
.

“See? Right
here…”

“Oh, fuck,”
she whispered, because there, in her very own handwriting, ♥
Getting Married!
♥ was scrawled buoyantly across the page,
surrounded by hearts and everything.

“And look at
previous pages – the whole year. You've noted dates and parties
that you and Taylor went to.”

She grabbed
the book off her. “I've actually written his name? I've written
Taylor
?”

“Yep – lots of
times.”

“Oh, god…” She
swayed, even while seated, and ended up leaning onto the wardrobe
with her right shoulder supporting her. “What do I do now?”

Holly huddled
in next to her. “We need to find Taylor. He obviously knows more
than he's letting on. Any idea where he's living now?”

“And how would
I know that when I don't even know who he is?” she snapped.

Holly
flinched.

“Sorry, Holly,
I'm just…” Her hand shook as she brought it up to wipe a strand of
hair away from her eyes.

“I know, and
it's fine. I have an idea.” She pulled out her iPhone.

“What are you
doing?”

“Emailing an
old flame – Michael. He's in the police force, and he still has a
thing for me.”

“Are you
serious?”

She nodded.
“Yeah. He's never gotten over—”

“No, I mean
about contacting the police.”

“He'll do it
off the record, and hell, yes! We're going to track your husband
down.”

“Don't call
him that!”

“He
is
your husband.”

“But the
police? Seriously? They're going to take time out of their busy
schedule hunting down dangerous criminals to find a random guy that
probably went missing of his own accord?”

“I don't know,
but Michael would still do anything for me.”

“Lucky
you.”

“This is the
only thing I can think of since we already tried Googling him and
nothing came up – not even a trace. It's as if he's wiped himself
from all records including your own bloody marriage
certificate!”

Okay …
whatever. Holly could do what she liked, because she sure as hell
couldn't do anything herself right now. She felt like a wreck. And
stupidly, what she really wanted was Amil. Here. To hold her.
Ridiculous, but there it was. As if he could somehow make this
whole thing go away. “Beth?” she asked, weakly.

“Honey, what
is it?”

“Can you make
me another cup of tea?”

Beth grinned.
“No problem.” She stood up, but Sarah grabbed her hand. “Wait … are
you all right?”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. You
don't remember him either. Whatever was done, it was done to both
of us.”

“I'm holding
it together.” She leaned down and placed a kiss on the top of
Sarah's head. “You're my best friend since forever. We'll stick
together and we're going to figure this thing out, okay?”

“Okay,” she
smiled through shimmering eyes. “I love you.”

“Love you,
too, babe. I'll go get tea.”

“Coffee for
me, please,” quipped Holly.

“Yeah,
whatever,” was Beth's retort as she walked out the door.

Holly glanced
at Sarah. “You think she'll poison my coffee?”

Sarah let out
a small laugh. “She might curse it, but I doubt she'll whip the
cyanide out.”

“I dunno, this
is starting to feel an awful lot like an Agatha Christie
novel.”

“Thanks, by
the way.”

“What
for?”

“For stomping
your way here from across the other side of the world and giving us
what for.”

Holly nudged
her, playfully. “I was kinda bored, anyway, with my better half
away at the moment. Besides, I've missed you …
and
the
oh-so-impenitent Beth. The three musketeers ride again!” she
exclaimed. Yeah, that had been their nickname at university.

“Well, let's
hope whatever they're fighting against, they win.”

“What kind of
talk is that? The three musketeers
always
win.”

“Weren't there
four?”

“Huh?”

“There were
four musketeers.”

“Only towards
the end of the book. The fourth guy was someone they thought was
the enemy first. They fought, and then he joined them, became
acquaintances and then friends, and then finally, he became the
fourth musketeer and they went on many adventures, of which all
were won. The end.”

“Would they
have been able to win them without him?”

“Um … we going
anywhere with this? You know I was talking figuratively,
right?”

Sarah
shrugged. “Just feels like there's something missing. Maybe it's a
fourth musketeer.”

Holly eyed her
keenly. “Are you talking about your hot dude?”

Sarah threw
her a look. “No, I wasn't.”

“Beth told me
about him – said he fled and that you've been pining.”

“I'm not
pining! And it's more complicated than that.”

“Is it more
complicated than trying to track down the husband you don't
remember?”

Sarah let out
a derisive grunt as her eyes fell on Taylor's name, scribbled in
her very familiar, curly handwriting. “I guess not.”

Holly's phone
sounded. “Ooo. … here we go. Affirmative. Michael wants Taylor's
name, last address and mobile number, and me to call him to catch
up,” she rolled her eyes, “and he says we'll just have to wait and
see what happens – no promises.”

Sarah blinked.
“I can't believe he's actually checking.”

“I think he
still loves me,” she shrugged. “Even if this gets us nowhere, it's
worth trying. We need to know what happened.”

“Yeah –
thanks.” Although Sarah had to wonder if whatever the truth was
would be better than not knowing. Maybe there was a good reason she
remembered nothing.

Beth appeared
through the doorway with three steaming mugs in her hands and
smiled widely. “Tea!”

~*~

“Drink,”
commanded a female voice in the Egyptian tongue. He might be rusty
with his native language, but he still understood basic words.