The Guardian (The Wolfe Series) (18 page)

BOOK: The Guardian (The Wolfe Series)
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The night gown was sheer, a diaphanous slip of material that hugged Laurie’s breasts, generously outlining the soft curves of her delicious body.  She looked like a wanton goddess, blonde hair, bare arms, nipples pushing against the luscious fabric of the gown.  She looked like every man’s dream as she walked slowly toward Jake.

“Jake,” she breathed and reached out her arms as though a supplicant.

Jake held her at arms length.  “I want to look at you,” he growled.  He could smell her arousal, a powerful aphrodisiac, as he looked his fill.

Laurie met his gaze boldly, feeling as though she had finally come home.  She didn’t resist when Jake picked her up in his arms and carried her over to his bed, placing her carefully in the center of the bed before joining her there. 

Laurie felt wonderful and the feeling built as Jake worked his magic on her body. 

             
Jake enjoyed the sweetness of Laurie’s mouth, the way she teased him with her tongue with the lightest of kisses.  The scent of her arousal filled him with raging desire and her fingers skimmed his skin setting him on fire.  Her touch was so enticing he felt mesmerized.  She aroused something primal and dark in him, the joining of his soul with hers. 

Slowly he entered her and pressed deeper as she tightened her legs around him.  She arched her body, wanting him to go faster, harder, deeper.  She shuddered, her body trembling as a long drawn out sigh escaped her lips.

A siren song was building that would send Laurie sailing up into the heavens where she wouldn’t be able to tell where she ended and where Jake began.

Laurie felt Jake stiffen and tremble before he called out her name.  She felt his muscles relax
when her own body quivered with her release.  Tears filled her eyes and she sighed as he rolled onto his back taking her with him.  Laurie rested her head on his chest, her leg entwined with his and felt . . .

 

Devastated that it had only been a dream.

 

C
hapte
r
S
eventeen

 

 

            
 
E
nrique stood beside the corral fence and watched one of the vaqueros working Aragon.  He’d been trying to think of a way to use the animal to get back at the Kincaid woman, but Luzaro wouldn’t allow the animal to be used or abused.  Enrique guessed Luzaro still harbored some misguided affection for Laurie Kincaid and an even more misguided notion that she would come back to him willingly, or not.

Aragon’s head was held proudly, his tail flying out behind him like a banner as he circled the round pen, his nostrils flaring, his eyes white-rimmed as he watched the whip the vaquero held in his left hand.  It had taken Luzaro’s best trainer, a horse whisperer it was said, to handle the animal. 
The Andalusian was a one woman horse and hadn’t allowed himself to be ridden. 

Enrique had to admit the animal was magnificent but that’s as far as his feelings went.  He
would have liked to watch one of the crueler vaqueros use spurs on the animal until it was bloodied and obedient but that was not to be with Luzaro watching the animal so closely.

             
“Like rubbing salt into one’s wound, eh?”  Luzaro said as he approached the fence where Enrique stood.  “Same for me, but for a different reason I suspect.”  Try as he might he hadn’t been able to harden his heart against Laurie.  He still found himself making excuses for her running away.  He would take he back in a heart beat if they found her alive.  The problem with doing that would be Enrique, and his thirst for vengeance against the one woman who had bested him.  Luzaro had some of his best men watching his second-in-command.  He would not allow Laurie to be harmed by anyone, other than himself, that is, if she refused him a second time.

             
“I’ve put a bounty on her head,” Enrique said sourly.  “Don’t worry yourself, I’ll find her, and then she’ll pay for what she’s done.”  Enrique absently rubbed at the bandage on the left side of his face not realizing that it was becoming a habit, a habit that he would continue long after the bandage was gone.

             
Luzaro held his temper with great effort as he turned back toward the mansion.  It was better not to confront Enrique on issues like this one when his blood was so high.  Luzaro would only allow the insubordination to go so far, though, before he would take the steps to crush it.

             
“What of the rancher?” he snarled the words over his shoulder.  “Has that particular problem been eliminated?”

The ranche
r had been out mending fences and had presented very little challenge for a man of Enrique’s unique talents.  Enrique knew he’d been sent on that little mission, one any of Luzaro’s underlings could have handled, in the hope Enrique’s temper would cool toward the Kincaid woman.  Luzaro should have known better.  Nothing would suffice, nothing but the woman’s painful death at Enrique’s hands.

             
“Of course,” Enrique snarled back.  “Don’t I always take care of your little problems?” 

Luzaro waved his hand dismissively as he continued on toward the house.

 

             
“You’re doing much better than the last time I saw you, young lady,” Doc Edwards said as he pressed a stethoscope to Laurie’s chest and listened to her heart beat.  He’d already checked her for signs of fever and found none.  “How’s the pain?”

             
The doctor that Jake had insisted upon her seeing was older than Laurie had expected.  Doc Edwards may have been old in years but the twinkle she saw in her eyes and the wink he had just bestowed upon her belied his chronological age by at least a decade.

             
“It still hurts some, and I can’t walk on it yet,” Laurie confessed, her eyes meeting Jake’s for a moment.  Her cheeks turned a becoming shade of pink when she remembered the shower they had taken together.  “Jake helps me get up and around.”

             
So that’s how it is, eh?
  The old man smiled inwardly.  He had tended to the Wolfe family for many years and had always thought highly of Jake and his brothers, Taggert and Rand.  All were upstanding citizens and always ready to lend a hand whenever needed.  He’d been called to the ranch on many occasions such as this one where an explanation was not going to be made, nor would he ask.  He’d never been the curious sort anyway, and he suspected it was a good thing where the Wolfe brothers and their scrapes were concerned. 

The shadow of fear he saw in the woman’s eyes bothered Doc, although he didn’t think that fear had anything to do with Jake, not with the seductive looks she’d been sending
Jake’s way. 

             
“Anything else troubling you, anything at all?”

             
“No, Doc, thanks for taking care of me.  It seem I have a lot to thank you and Jake for.”

             
“It’s nothing, dear.  Those of us here in ranch country tend to take care of each other so don’t worry that pretty little head of yours, okay?”  Doc patted Laurie’s hand. 

“Now let’s take a look at that leg, shall we?”

             

“How’s our patient, Doc?” Taggert
Wolfe asked as the doctor walked into the kitchen where Taggert was sprawled at the kitchen table, his long legs stretched out in front of him and his feet crossed at the ankles.

             
“She’s coming along fine,” Doc said and helped himself to a cup of coffee.  He took a seat beside Taggert and asked, “I don’t supposed you’d like to tell me how she came to be injured, and by a coyote no less, or what she’s doing here in Jake’s house with you two hovering over her, hmmm?” 

             
“Can’t tell you much, Doc, other than that we found her in the desert.”  Taggert smiled that sheepish grin the doctor knew so well. 

Doc had
brought all three of the Wolfe brothers into the world, and could still remember how happy Victoria Wolfe had been that day.  He sighed, remembering the boy’s mother.  Victoria Wolfe had been totally unaware of her beauty and of the effect she had on all of the men in the area.  Her hair had been black as a raven’s wing, hanging nearly to her waist, and her dancing blue eyes could easily draw a man into their sapphire depths.  She’d been a beauty and Doc had developed a serious crush on her which hadn’t set well with her overly jealous and possessive husband, Nate.  Doc had also buried that same beautiful woman which had been devastating for him as well as for her sons.  The only dry eyes at the funeral had been her husband’s.  Nate hadn’t shed a tear.

             
“She’s sleeping,” Jake said as he walked into the kitchen. 

             
“Best thing for her right now,” Doc commented, noting the dark circles beneath Jake’s eyes.  “Looks to me like you could use some rest yourself.”

             
Jake poured himself a mug of coffee and sat down across from the other two men.  “I’ll do that now that I know she’s out of the woods.”  He turned his attention to Taggert.  “Did you get the results back from the vet yet?”

             
“Doc Jeffers said the coyote didn’t have rabies.  That still doesn’t answer the question, though.  Why did that coyote attack Laurie?” 

             
“That’s a vicious bite on that young woman’s leg,” Doc said thoughtfully.  “Wasn’t just a nip.  That animal intended major bodily harm, and you say he was part of a pack?  It’s a miracle she survived such an attack.”

             
“Yea, there were lots of coyote tracks in the area near where we found her?”  Jake was growing more and more uncomfortable with Doc’s line of questioning.  He quickly finished his coffee and rose to his feet.  “Lots to do today.  Thanks for coming out, Doc.  Send me the bill, okay?”

             
“If I didn’t know better I’d think you were trying to get rid of me, Jake.”  Doc got stiffly to his feet.  “Bernie Thompson said he saw your dad up Montana way about a month ago.”

             
Jake stiffened and replied, his voice gruffer than he intended, “Haven’t heard from the old man, nor do I expect to.” 

He had watched his mother slipping deeper and deeper into depression because of that bastard.  He’d been young and
had felt powerless and unable to help her.  He stubbornly continued to believe that it was the flash flood that had claimed his mother’s life, and that she had struggled to live and had not just given up and let the water steal her life away the way Rand believed.

             
“Well, just thought you’d like to know,” Doc said as he headed for the door.  “Call me if you need anything.”

             
“Pretty rude of you, bro,” Taggert said as he finished the last dregs of his coffee.

             
“He knows I can’t stand the old man.  Why does he insist on trying to patch things up between us?” 

             
“All I know is you and Rand need to get over it.  What’s done is done and a long time in the past.”  He uncrossed his long legs and rose to his feet.  “I’m headed back to my place.  Let me know if you need anything.”

 

He was a large scent hound, originally bred for hunting deer and wild boar with the ability to discern human odors even days later, over great distances and even across water.  Bred specifically to track human beings, it’s keen sense of smell and tenacious tracking instinct made the bloodhound a valuable asset to law enforcement agencies as well as lawless individuals, much like the animal’s handler, Pedro Mendosa, who was holding the liver-colored bloodhound’s leash.


Ole Beau, he’s tireless when following a scent,” Mendosa said as he held a silky scrap of pink material beneath the dog’s nose.  “He won’t quit until he finds her, senor, of that you can be sure.”

Enrique looked at the raw-boned, 110 pound behemoth and nodded his head.  “He had better find the woman or what’s left of her,” he said, his eyes promising retribution if the dog and it’s handler failed him.  “I don’t like
failure.”

Pedro swallowed hard, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down in his scrawny throat.  He was a wiry little man with deep grooves imbedded in the leather
-tough skin of his face, a coyote who had seen and done much in his fifty-five years.  Pedro handled himself well and there were very few men he feared, but he feared the man following too closely behind him.  Enrique Perez had a well-deserved reputation for brutality that was known to all.  Anyone who failed him was dealt with harshly, usually by a bullet to the back of the head when the man or woman was least expecting it.

“Nose to the ground, el perro, nose to the ground,” Pedro encouraged the hound
as they headed off into the desert. 
Do your best my friend, for both our sakes.

Enrique followed the coyote and his bloodhound into the desert and noticed that Laurie had tried to stay parallel with the highway and yet just out of sight of anyone who may have been searching for her.  There hadn’t been much daylight left when he’d found her and that was probably why she’d eventually veered away from the highway, most likely losing her sense of direction and heading straight out into some of the most inhospitable desert in southern Arizona. 
              Enrique had dressed for the harsh desert terrain in camouflage fatigues and sturdy hiking boots.  He carried two canteens, one on each hip as well as a rifle and a handgun.  A floppy-brimmed camouflage hat and dark glasses shielded his eyes, the glasses catching the edge of his bandage occasionally, reminding him of how the Kincaid woman had savaged his once handsome face.  Despite the feelings of revenge that drove him, Enrique was coming to grudgingly admire the Kincaid woman’s tenacity, especially the way she’d tried to steal his car after she’d attacked him.  It was lucky that he had removed the keys from the car’s ignition before getting out to confront her – unlucky for her.  Reluctantly admire her he might, but that slight admiration wouldn’t save her.  Nothing and no one would save her from his wrath when he finally overtook her.  If she was alive, which was looking more and more doubtful the further they went into the desert.

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