Undertow: Building Sanctuary, Book Two (5 page)

Simone choked back the pleas, the promises. “We can discuss it further when we get home.”

His smile widened. He leaned in, his dark hair spilling over his forehead as he tilted her head back a little more, just enough to meet a soft kiss. “Good night, Simone.”

When we get home.
The words echoed in her head as he left, closing the door quietly behind him. They had been anything but a warning, and she was ashamed of herself. She owed him the truth, not something that sounded like a promise, even if it was a promise she desperately wanted to give.

When we get home.

When they got home, she had to tell him she might be leaving. That it might not
be
her home for long.

Chapter Four

Victor eyed the blood-red horizon and slanted a look at Slim, who stood next to him on the dock. “What’s that they say about a red sky in the morning?”

He scratched the side of his wrinkled face and squinted up at Victor. “Keep your ass off the water, that’s what they say.”

If only it were that easy. The pack needed the supplies. It was the only reason he’d risked the trip in the first place, especially this close to the full moon, but coordinating the delivery of the supplies with their own travel needs and Slim’s schedule had already proven a logistical nightmare. He needed to be as flexible as possible.

He also needed to get himself and Simone back to the safety of the island instead of trying to find a safe place to change and run. After his lapse in control, he wouldn’t blame her for dreading the prospect of spending the most primal days of the month trapped with a man she shouldn’t trust. “It’s a short sail, and I’m reasonably skilled.”

“Don’t have to convince me, skip.” Slim shrugged and hefted another crate. “I’ll be at home by a cozy fire. Talk to your first mate.”

Victor’s gaze slid to the cabin, where he could hear the faint sounds of Simone rearranging supplies. No safely tucking her below decks and out of his way on the return voyage—they’d survive a drenching in a cold winter storm, but some of the supplies might not. “She’s a tough girl. We’ll get through.”

“Don’t doubt it.” He settled the crate on the deck, where one of them could stow it below. “That’s the last of it. Tell Seamus and his pretty little wife I asked after them, will you?”

Victor choked on a laugh at the thought of prim little Joan consorting with someone so obviously connected to the shady side of life. Then again, the woman did sleep with Seamus every night. “Sure. I’ll even leave off the pretty, just for you. Our alpha is mighty possessive of his new mate. Take care, Slim.”

“You too.”

Simone emerged from below, just far enough to toss a wave at Slim. “Stay warm.”

He laughed. “Follow your own advice, sweetheart. You need it more than I do.”

Victor hopped onto the boat and waited for Slim to toss him the lines. Maneuvering the small boat out of the slip was easy enough, and the sun balanced on the horizon as he navigated the busy harbor, mostly full of fishermen getting out onto the water. Concentrating on that gave him an excuse to ignore the effect Simone’s close proximity was having on his self-control.

She was quieter this morning, almost subdued as she sat, gazing out over the bay. “Will we run into a storm?”

“Maybe. We’re not quite sailing into the wind, but we probably won’t make the island much before the weather rolls in. If it gets bad, you can squeeze down into the cabin, even if it’s a little uncomfortable.”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine.” She smiled a little, a world of sadness in the expression. “I won’t melt, and I won’t break down and weep if the wind musses my hair.”

The thought was absurd. “Doesn’t mean you should want to be miserable if you don’t have to be.”

“You’re right, of course.” She fell silent again.

He’d said the wrong thing. Again. “I don’t think you’re fragile. Just don’t see the point in both of us being uncomfortable.”

Simone didn’t answer, not at first. When she did, her words had nothing to do with the impending bad weather. “I wish you’d told me.
Talked
to me.”

There hadn’t been time, though the excuse was weak. He wouldn’t have done so even if they’d been trapped together with all the time in the world.
Which we might as well be now.

He had to say something, so he cleared his throat and adjusted his grip on the tiller. “I’ve never been much good at talking. Not when it matters.”

“What was wrong with the truth?” She turned to face him, something lost and hopeless in her eyes. “I would have waited, for as long as you needed me to.”

An impossible tangle with no end. She had become friendly with the wizard because she’d assumed he didn’t care. He’d guarded his feelings because he’d assumed she was already taken. But the way she spoke… “I’m telling you the truth now. Are you already promised to him?”

“No, not like you think. But…he’s going to Europe in the spring, to help settle things between the wolves and wizards. And he… He—”

Ice flooded his veins. “You’re going with him.”

“Astrid’s father—you never met Astrid. She died when we—” She twisted her hands together. “It doesn’t matter. Her father has asked me to come with James. To help.”

“I see.”

Simone stared at him, her eyes wide and pleading. “It’s
peace
, Victor. If I can help make that happen…”

He wanted to tell her that the wizards and wolves had been fighting for generations and would battle for more to come. That it was hopeless. That breaking her own heart against the wall of other people’s hatred would accomplish nothing.

Selfish arguments, when he couldn’t promise her heart any more tenderness. “That is a great responsibility. A great…honor.”

“Yes, it is.” She bit her lip. “I’m not sure when I’ll be back. I would try, though, if I had a reason.”

As if he could compete with dreams of saving the world, however far-fetched. “You need to go where your heart leads you, Simone.”

“Sound advice,” she whispered. “Thank you for understanding.” Once more, she turned away, putting her face to the wind.

Her pain trembled through him, even if she was too proud to show it, and it hurt. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t.”

“Do you want me to tell you to stay?”

“No.” She breathed the word, her voice hoarse and weary. “You can’t give me what I want.”

The more they talked, the more twisted it became. Action suited him better, but the wind had already picked up, sharp with the scent of rain. He had to stay alert to keep them both safe. “If you followed your heart and it led you to me, I’d do my damnedest to make you happy. That’s all I have to offer, and maybe it’s not enough.”

“I don’t know
what
to do anymore,” she confessed.

So tired. So hurt. Victor held out an arm without thinking and left it there, knowing she’d likely reject him. He still had to offer. “Come sit down.”

She came, sliding to sit beside him. “Can we not talk about it? Not right now, at least.”

“Of course.” He slid his arm around her and tucked her close against his side. Comfort instead of romance, the casual touches of a pack, even if the feel of her pressed against him excited him. “What should we talk about?”

“The weather?” She laughed a little. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have insisted we go back today.”

“Even if you hadn’t, I would have. Neither of us wanted to spend the full moon in Searsport.” Though with the bite of the wind taking on a mean edge, they might soon wish they’d risked it, no matter their personal trouble. “This will only be our second full moon together as a pack. The girls need you.”

“Yes, I suppose they do.”

Maybe she thought he was trying to remind her how much she was needed now that he knew she might leave. “It’ll grow easier in time. Once they become accustomed to the men.”

“You sound like Joan.” Simone tilted her head up and studied his face. “Why do you dislike her?”

Dangerous ground indeed. “It’s not…dislike.” Not quite a lie. “I’m wary of what Joan is, not who she is.”

“And what is she?”

“So alpha it makes my head hurt.”

“So is Seamus.” She shrugged under his arm. “Why should that bother you?”

“It’s a man’s duty to protect his family. His pack. It’s a responsibility but, in the end, we’re expendable. Female wolves are precious. You shouldn’t have to fight. Not saying Joan had a choice—but maybe now I wonder if she’ll know how to stop.”

Simone’s brows drew together, and her back stiffened. “We’re precious because we have babies and that’s that?”

“You’re vital because you have babies,” he retorted. “You’re precious because you’re the reason life’s worth living.”

“I—” She stopped and sighed. “I can’t even be irritated with your attitude when you say things like that.”

Victor hid a smile. “I was born a wolf. Raised this way by a mother who would have thrashed me within an inch of my life if I implied her only worth was having babies.”

Simone laughed. “I think I would like your mother.”

His mother would probably like Simone too. “Maybe you’ll meet her some day. She’s liable to start talking to me again, now that I’ve given up my life of crime.”

She touched his hand where it curled around her arm. “You’re estranged?”

Another topic best left alone, though he found himself answering. “For the last decade or so. Maybe a little longer. So bad they’d barely accept money from me, even with the crops laying dead in the fields.”

It took her a moment to speak. “It isn’t pleasant, is it? Being cut off from everything you once knew.”

“No, it’s not.” The wind was picking up now, blowing ominous clouds toward them. Snow or rain, either one would make for a miserable sail. Distracting her from it might be a blessing. “You speak like someone who knows.”

“Yes.” She snuggled closer, though she gave no outward sign of noticing the chill. “That’s how I wound up with Edwin Lancaster. I was his mistress. His first.”

Victor stiffened, his arm tightening before he could stop it. Edwin Lancaster had been a bastard—a selfish, self-absorbed ass of the highest degree. Money had given him the power to rise above his place in the pack, and he’d used that power to make women into wolves to serve as his playthings.

That Simone had been one of them shouldn’t have been a surprise. Most of the women on the island owed the destruction of their lives to Edwin’s womanizing. But Simone…

Protectiveness rose, and for a moment he regretted that Joan had killed the bastard. She’d probably let it happen too quickly. “I thought Joan was the first,” he managed, mostly to have something to say. “Isn’t that why he hated her?”

“No, Joan was the last. She defied Edwin, and she changed everything.
I
was the first.” Her mouth twisted in a shaky smile. “I’m the one who let it happen, to myself and the rest of them.”

That sad little smile couldn’t hide her pain, and his wolf raged uselessly. There was no one left to challenge, no one to hurt for the discomfort she’d suffered. “You can’t be held responsible for the ways you’ve been mistreated. The man was evil.”

“You’re excessively kind. The fact remains that I should have done something, if only for the other girls Edwin began to…collect.”

“What could you have done? Fought him?”

“I don’t know.
Something
.” Simone shivered. “Things worsened so gradually. He used to be different, you know. Not good or noble, but not as bad as he was in the end.”

Most people didn’t go bad overnight. He leaned down and dropped a soft kiss to the top of her head. “Times have changed many a man and wolf. And you went with Joan. She may have the will, but while she and Seamus were off fighting Lancaster, you were making those girls feel safe. That’s what they need now, more than a warrior.”

“Thank you.” She stared up at him, her heart in her eyes.

If she’d looked dazed or worshipful, he could have resisted. If she’d looked young or lost or innocent—if she’d looked like
anything
other than a beautiful woman who saw something she wanted…

He saw heat. Respect. Desire. He saw that he needed to stop worrying about guarding her heart and start paying heed to his own.

Distant thunder rumbled as he lowered his lips and found hers open and ready. She kissed him eagerly, her fingers clenching in his vest, and murmured something against his mouth.

The tiller jumped under his hand, and he tightened his grip and willed the weather to hold. Just long enough for him to kiss her, to ease his tongue past her lips and taste the sweetness of her mouth. A groan rose inside him as he licked the tip of her tongue, demanding she respond.

Instead of letting him in, she pulled back and blinked away the rain that had splashed down and gathered on her lashes. “We bet against the weather and lost, I guess.”

He’d never been so distracted by the taste of a woman that he’d failed to notice rain, and not a tiny drizzle. Fat drops landed on his head and slid down his neck, bringing an icy chill with them. Rain—for now. All too easy to imagine snow following if the temperature stayed cool. A sharp cold snap could ice the sails and rigging.

That was absolutely the worst-case scenario, but he still eased back from Simone. “You should see if you can tuck yourself down below. I’d feel easier with you out of the weather, and if it gets worse, I’ll need to concentrate on getting us safely home.”

She didn’t argue, but she did pause before opening the cabin door. “If you need me…”

“Then you’ll be wrestling with rigging in the freezing rain, whether you like it or not.” He smiled at her. “Go, darling. I’ll call for you.”

She ducked below, then stuck her head back out. “Take care, Victor.”

“I will.” With her on the boat, he couldn’t do anything less.

Chapter Five

After nearly an hour below deck, Simone’s discomfort and fear had grown to epic proportions.

At first, she thought Victor might be able to pull them around the gathering storm. But the wind and waves mounted until even her limited and distant experience with sailing told her it couldn’t be safe.

The boat pitched and rolled, and she had to press the back of her hand to her mouth and count to ten to quell her nausea. Her anxiety combined with her worry for Victor made her nervous, and she jumped every time a close crash of thunder shook the hull.