Werewolf in Alaska: A Wild About You Novel (12 page)

“Do you ever . . . cook for other werewolves?”

“Sometimes.” He put on the steaks and came over to join her at the table. “Look, it’d be better if you don’t ask questions. As I said before, the less you know—”

“I disagree. What you want from me is loyalty and trustworthiness, right?”

What he really wanted from her was something he wasn’t supposed to have. He tipped his bottle and drank some ale before he answered the question. “Ignorance would be preferable.”

“Too late. I know you’re a werewolf and that there’s a werewolf council out there somewhere. You threatened me with werewolves who would hunt me down if I tried to run away from you. I’m envisioning an entire shadow community living alongside the human population. Am I right?”

“I’m taking the Fifth on that.”

She blew out an impatient breath. “Look, I’m pretty smart, Jake, and I’ll probably figure a lot of this out on my own.”

“You’re certainly free to do that, but I don’t have to supply any more details.”

She sipped her ale and gazed at the mountains in the half-light of an Alaskan summer evening. A breeze ruffled Polecat Lake, causing small ripples to lap against the shore.

Through all that, he could almost hear Rachel thinking. Almost. They’d had a mental connection for a brief time after he’d shifted into wolf form, but he wasn’t as psychic in human form.

He could certainly feel lust in the air, though. The aroma of grilled steak teased his nostrils. That smell, combined with the tang of the ale he’d consumed and the almond scent of a female he wanted, aroused him to a level he hadn’t reached in a long time. Considering the trouble he was in, he shouldn’t allow himself to enjoy this sensually rich moment with Rachel. But he couldn’t seem to help himself. She was potent.

At last she spoke again. “I’ve been thinking.”

“I’m sure.” He wondered if any of her thoughts had to do with the sexual tension building between them.

“I mean, does it matter whether I know a few details or a lot of details? In a case like this, there’s no such thing as a small leak.”

He had to admit she had a point.

She tilted her bottle, took a drink, and swallowed, her delicate throat moving seductively, making him long to nip that slender column. Then she looked over at him. “I’m just glad you’re not planning to have me rubbed out.”

He had a mouthful of ale when she said that. Because he didn’t want to spew it all over her, he choked instead. She left her chair to pound him on the back, which was of no help.

Finally he was able to breathe again.

“You okay, sport?” She resumed her seat and peered at him.

“Yeah.” He grinned and shook his head. “
Rubbed out.
Where do you come up with things like that?”

“I watch a lot of movies. I love the world of the imagination. And FYI, now that I know werewolves exist, I think it’s plain mean for you not to tell me all the juicy details. Like I said, a leak is a leak.”

“I’m only thinking that you can’t blab what you don’t know.”

“You say that like somebody’s going to put thumb screws on me and force me to talk. They’re not, Jake. We live a fairly isolated existence up here, and when I travel for work, I guarantee nobody will ask me what I know about werewolves. If I keep my mouth shut—and I will—the subject won’t come up.”

He studied her. “I want to believe that you can keep your mouth shut.” He shouldn’t be discussing her mouth, though, because it made him think of what fun he could have exploring it.

“I can absolutely do that. I understand the issues. I may understand them better than most because I have such an active imagination. But I have to ask, are werewolves planning to take over the world?”

“What?”

“It’s a fair question. In the movies, the nonhuman creatures usually take over the world and enslave the humans. Why wouldn’t werewolves want to do that?”

“Because it’s not our nature to be aggressive.” He almost added that Weres were lovers, not fighters, but thought better of it.

“But you’re organized enough to have a council, and apparently you look out for each other, even if you don’t always agree, like in the case of you and Duncan MacDowell. In his book, Duncan referred to extensive business interests. Do werewolves have a lot of money?”

Jake put down his empty bottle and stood. “I need to check the steak.”

She seemed undeterred by his attempt to change the subject. “Because if they have a lot of money, they might be planning an economic takeover. Or maybe they
already
control huge chunks of the economy. If that’s so, then—”

“Steaks are done. Let’s eat.”

“Don’t think you can stop me from asking questions by keeping my mouth busy with food.”

Naturally that comment made him think of another way he could keep her mouth busy. He loaded the steaks on a platter and set it on the table. “Can’t blame me for trying.”

“I’m just warning you it won’t work.” Straightening in her chair, she eyed him with defiance.

Just his luck, he found her attitude extremely sexy. “Then I’ll have to use more creative ways to shut you up.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

He allowed himself a very slow, very male perusal of her body. “Use your imagination.”

Whoa.
Rachel hadn’t been born yesterday, and she recognized a sexual gauntlet when it had been thrown down. Jake had just served notice that he had testosterone and he wasn’t afraid to use it.

After all those nights of watching him skinny-dipping, she was more than primed for whatever he cared to dish out. Desire gripped her tight, warming her skin and dampening her panties. She wanted him bad.

Sure, he wasn’t quite who she’d imagined during those nights of spying on his naked-swimming routine. He had another, rather unusual, side to him. But she could ignore that aspect, because at this moment in time he was the built-for-sin man she’d admired through her binoculars.
Bring it on, big boy.

She was more than willing to abandon the meal and have a close encounter right here on the deck, or up against the railing, or spinning on one of the swivel chairs surrounding the table. Nobody else was around except a few geese on the lake and the occasional fish leaping out of the water. They wouldn’t mind.

Jake’s gaze met hers and he swore softly. But instead of grabbing her and ripping her clothes off as she’d fantasized he might, he took a deep breath. “That’s some imagination you have.”

Her pulse raced. “You can read my mind?”

“Don’t have to. It’s all there in your eyes.” He groaned. “God, Rachel. I can’t . . . we can’t do this.”

“But you want me.” If his expression hadn’t told her so, the fit of his jeans would have.

“Yes. And that’s a problem.” He turned away. “I’ll get the rest of the food. Help yourself to a steak.” He disappeared into the house.

During the brief time Jake was gone, Rachel had a moment to decompress and think about what had just happened. She’d read enough in Duncan MacDowell’s book to know that for Weres, sex wasn’t the same as mating. She and Jake could have sex without making a lifetime commitment, and that seemed to be what he was morally against.

Yet he’d said wanting her was a problem for him. She’d have to ask him to explain, because she didn’t understand. She also wondered how long he’d been nurturing this case of lust. There was that telltale note of hers tucked inside a book with her picture in it. How ironic if he’d wanted her as long as she’d wanted him.

By the time he returned with the potatoes and carrots, she’d made up her mind. “There’s no way around it, Jake. You have to level with me.”

“I know.” He took the chair opposite hers but didn’t pick up his fork. “I decided the same thing while I was in the kitchen. Ultimately, I started the whole thing when I bought your carving. That was my first mistake.”

“Mistake?” She stared at him. “Are you kidding me? You inspired me to give up on becoming a vet so I could devote myself to my art. I don’t just owe you my life. I owe you my career!”

“No, you don’t. Someone else would have bought that carving. Then you would have them to thank. And we wouldn’t be in the middle of this big mess.”

“I don’t agree with that logic. Hearing your positive comments about the carving was as important as the sale, maybe more important. I was meant to be in that store when you walked in. You have no idea what a boost your comments gave me. In fact, I wrote you a note to that effect. You probably don’t remember, though.” She was a devil to mention it, but she couldn’t resist.

A dull red stain crept up the back of his neck. “I seem to remember a note.”

She didn’t push it. She didn’t want to embarrass him by pointing out his sentimentality. “I’m just saying that sale was a significant event that helped encourage me to become a full-time carver.”

“There would have been different inspirations. You’re very talented. You would have made it with or without that moment in Ted’s store. Now, eat your food before it gets cold.”

“You sound like my mother.”

He smiled. “No cook wants food to sit around after they’ve fixed it. Dig in.”

“But you promised to tell me everything.”

“I will.” He cut into his steak. “Between bites. It’s a long story, so I need to keep up my strength. And so do you.”

“Okay.” She sliced into her steak, which was grilled exactly as she liked it. She couldn’t resist glancing over at Jake’s, which was the same shade of pale pink inside. She thought that might be on purpose. “Now, start talking.”

He did, pausing sporadically to eat. He told her about his father, the actual wolf she’d photographed and immortalized in wood. He mentioned that his parents had died in a skiing accident but didn’t dwell on that part of the story. He did admit, though, that after buying her carving, he’d become fascinated with her and had fallen into the habit of late-night runs over to her place.

Which explained why he’d kept her note. She finished her last bite and put down her fork. “Are you saying that we wasted three years when we could have been . . .” She trailed off, not sure what the relationship might have developed into.

He shook his head as he finished chewing and swallowed. “No, we couldn’t, not without me becoming a hypocrite.”

“How’s that?”

“Think about it. The obvious way to halt Were-human mating is to end Were-human sexual encounters. If a Were never has sex with a human, he or she won’t be tempted to consider mating with one.”

“So you’ve never had sex with a human?”

“Nope.” He picked up his ale and took a drink.

Because she was watching him very closely, she noticed that his hand quivered ever so slightly.

“Ever been tempted?”

He set down the bottle and glanced at her. “You mean, other than you?”

“Right.”

“Maybe a little, but I could always shrug it off.” He looked out over the lake. “If I hadn’t bought that carving, I might have been okay. But you put a part of yourself in that piece, and I felt it drawing me. That’s why I had to get rid of it.”

“You make it sound like the carving’s possessed.”

“It is.” He gave her a half smile. “By you.”

“Jake, I’ve sold carvings to lots of people, including many single guys. Not one of them has insinuated that my work makes them want to take me to bed.”

“Maybe they’re more polite and civilized than I am. It might affect them that way, but they don’t want to offend you.” He leaned both elbows on the table. “None of your clients have propositioned you, though?”

“No. Partly because I never give them the chance.”

He nodded. “Makes sense. You don’t want to mix business with pleasure.”

“Actually, I’d be happy to mix business with pleasure, but none of my clients have appealed to me in that way.”

“So who have you been dating?”

“None of your beeswax!”

“Probably not, but I want to know. I assume you’re not hooked up with someone now, or you wouldn’t have given me the green light a while ago. But I’ll bet there’s been a guy. You’re too beautiful to stay celibate.”

“Thank you for that. I was beginning to think without my carving I’d have no sex appeal at all.”

He laughed. “Oh, my God. You’re kidding, right?”

“You have been raving on about that carving and the effect it had on you.”

“Then let me set your mind to rest on that score. The carving is the icing on the cake, but the cake is plenty rich without it. Sad to say, I’m on a sugar-free diet.”

She polished off her ale. “Aren’t you the least bit curious about how sex with a human would be?”

“Oh, I’m very curious, but I’m also not a fan of hypocrisy. I’ve set myself up as the standard-bearer for the cause. All my traveling since last October has been to promote the organization I founded, Werewolves Against Random Mating. That’s why I was in San Francisco, on business for WARM.”

“Warm?”

“It’s an acronym.”

“Oh. Like Duncan MacDowell has WOOF, Werewolves Optimizing Our Future.”

Jake frowned, clearly unhappy that she’d brought Duncan into the conversation. “Yes, he does, damn it. Plus he wrote a book that I felt compelled to buy and read. If you hadn’t found it in my nightstand drawer, you’d still be in the dark about all this.”

“I guess you don’t believe that things happen for a reason.”

He gazed at her. “I guess you do.”

“I take after my Grandpa Ike, and he was a big believer in that. I’m sure he’d say you were supposed to be my first customer and that we were destined to have this connection.”

“Are you saying he would have been happy that you’re connected to a werewolf?”

“He might have, if he’d had enough information. Don’t think I’ve forgotten your promise to tell all. You still have a lot of ground to cover.”

“I’ll tell you more after you’ve answered the dating question you’ve continued to dodge. I’m sure you could have your pick, so do you go for corporate types? Other artists? Jocks?”

She thought about how to answer. Maybe, all things considered, he deserved the truth. “I haven’t been dating.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. At first I was too busy with work, and then I was worried that someone would be attracted to the fame and fortune instead of me, personally. So at the suggestion of my girlfriends in Fairbanks, I signed up for a couple of online sites about six months ago.”

“And?”

“Nada. Can’t get worked up about any of them. I’m dateless in Polecat.”

“Damn. That sucks.”

“Fortunately I have an active fantasy life involving my neighbor.”

Jake’s eyes widened. Leaning back in his chair, he raised both eyebrows and pointed a finger at his chest.

“Yes, you, Aquaman. Thanks to your regular skinny-dipping schedule and my grandfather’s excellent binoculars, my fantasy life is doing fine.”

Adorably, his face turned red. “Didn’t know I had an audience.”

“A very appreciative audience, I might add.”

Jake scrubbed a hand across his face, as if he could wipe off the embarrassment. When he finally looked at her, chagrin had been replaced with the ever-present glow of desire. “Ah, Rachel. What are we going to do about this crazy situation?”

She’d been thinking of little else all through the meal. “Well, I’m already the keeper of one big secret.”

“Right.” His green eyes grew wary.

“Why not make it two?”

He took a shaky breath. “I was afraid you were going to say that.”

“Were you afraid, or were you perhaps hoping I would?”

He hesitated. “Probably both. Ever since I walked in and found you in my bedroom, I’ve wondered how the hell I’d make it through this without cracking. And now I discover you’ve been fantasizing about me, too.”

“So are you about ready to crack?”

“Yeah. ’Fraid so.”

Her pulse skyrocketed. “Oh.”

“And now that I’ve admitted that, it’s time to take this discussion inside.”

Heat danced through her veins as she helped him gather up the dishes. They’d found no long-range solutions, but they might have hit on a short-range one.

•   •   •

Jake wanted to blame Rachel’s confession for sending him over the edge, but then again, it wouldn’t have taken much. He’d been teetering for a long time. Now that he was about to fall, he couldn’t wait.

Carrying the empty meat platter and their ale bottles, he followed her into the kitchen. “Just dump everything in the sink. We’ll worry about it later.”

She followed his instructions and turned back to him. “I forgot the place mats.”

“Let ’em blow away. I don’t care.” Shoving the platter and bottles onto the counter, he pulled her into his arms.
At last.
With a sigh, he lowered his head for the kiss he’d been dreaming about for three years.

Incredibly, she put her hand to his mouth, halting his forward progress. “Wait, Jake.”

Capturing her wrist, he tugged her hand away. “I’m through waiting. I want you so much I’m dizzy.”

She started to say something else, and when her mouth was open he took it as a golden opportunity to kiss her. Ahh. Warm, moist, soft . . . a velvet playground.

The thought that she was human, not Were, drifted through his mind and was gone. She was . . . Rachel, and kissing her felt like coming home. He groaned with delight when she pressed her fingers into his scalp and kissed him back.

God, she felt great pressed up against him, her breasts tight against his chest, her pelvis cradling his erection as they undulated together, two halves of a whole. He began undressing her without thinking about it. All he knew was that her clothes were in the way, and he wanted them gone.

She seemed to want his gone, too, and that was fine with him. She kissed him with even more urgency as her fingers flew down the row of buttons holding his shirt together. The kitchen filled with the sound of rapid breathing and soft murmurs of joy.

Then came Jake’s muted oath of frustration when he realized he had to deal with her running shoes before he could slide off her jeans. Grasping her hips, he hoisted her up on the counter. The platter and bottles he’d put there earlier tumbled with a crash into the sink. He ignored them and dropped to his knees so he could yank at the laces of her shoes.

“Forget untying.” She gulped for air. “Just . . . pull them off.”

He did, followed by her jeans and her gratifyingly wet panties. As he stood, he realized he loved having her at counter level. Extremely convenient. Cupping her face in both hands, he leaned in to kiss her again. He already knew he’d never tire of doing that.

Once again she tried to say something, but it was muffled against his questing mouth. Moving aside the lapels of his shirt, she flattened her palms against his chest and began a sensuous massage. Her touch was heaven, but he wished she’d unfasten his jeans and unzip his fly. He could do it, but then he’d have to stop stroking her silky breasts, and he was entranced with those.

Cradling their sweet weight, he kissed his way down the smooth column of her neck and over the slope of one breast. When he circled her taut nipple with his tongue, she gasped with pleasure. That tiny gasp made him eager to create more like it.

Closing his mouth over her nipple, he rolled it between his tongue and the roof of his mouth. He was rewarded with a soft moan. That moan, predicting more to come as he continued to love her, sent a message straight to his cock. It swelled painfully inside its prison of briefs and denim.