Wolf at the Door: Salvation Pack, Book 1 (7 page)

“That depends on you.” Jacque’s ominous words struck fear to her heart, but she didn’t falter. A trickle of sweat rolled down her back and fear gnawed at her gut.

“What do you mean?”

Louis crouched beside her again and she was struck by the intensity of his brown eyes. Most women would kill for his long, thick lashes. “We won’t hurt you.” He picked up one of her hands and rubbed his thumb over the back. She caught her breath, almost afraid to move.

“I want to go home.” The words were barely a whisper, certainly not the bold command she was going for.

Louis shot a glance at his brother. Jacque was frowning at him, glaring at where their hands were joined. He didn’t like his brother touching her.

“That can’t happen.” Jacque moved closer and she flinched away from him. His expression grew even more forbidding. Anger radiated from him in waves that beat at her already much abused psyche. “We can’t allow you to tell anyone about us.”

Relief doused her like a cold bucket of water. “Is that all?” This she could handle. “You know that no one would believe me if I told them. Right?” It was one thing to write entertaining pieces for publication, quite another to actually believe in it. “I wouldn’t have used the pictures or your names.”

“So you say now,” Jacque countered. “Unfortunately, there are many believers out there. People who would love the chance to hunt our kind into extinction.”

Our kind.
The way he said it was a reminder that none of the men in this room was exactly human. They were more than that. Different.

“How did you start writing about the paranormal?” Louis asked. He continued to play with her fingers, making it difficult for her to concentrate. His skin was so warm and she felt so cold in spite of the layer of sweat covering her body.

“It’s interesting and there’s always a market for it.” She was used to people looking down on the subject matter of her writing.

“Do you plan to do it forever?”

Gwen found the interest in her life more than a little unnerving. She shrugged. “What does it matter?” Her new life in Tennessee was over. She’d never feel safe in her little cabin again.

“It matters,” Louis assured her.

His unruly, cropped hair stood on end, making her want to smooth down the edges. He was a nice guy for a kidnapper.

“Tell me,” he urged.

It was hard to concentrate with Jacque glaring at her and Armand staring, but she tried. If she made an emotional connection with them maybe they’d have a harder time killing her. Maybe they’d actually let her go. She knew it wasn’t likely, but it was the only hope she had to cling to.

“I was actually starting to write fewer articles.” She took a breath and plunged onward. “I wanted to write a book. I’d already started it.” She said the last in a rush. A book was a huge step for her.

“One to expose werewolves to the world.” Jacque sauntered closer, menace in every step. “Is that why you were meeting Hector?”

The threat was more than evident, and Gwen knew her life might be hanging by a thread. She shook her head in denial. “No.”

“Oh, come on, Gwen. You’re offered pictures, firsthand accounts of where we live and how we live.” Jacque shoved his brother aside and Louis gave her hand a squeeze of encouragement before releasing it.

There was no longer any doubt in her mind as to who was in charge here. Both Louis and Armand deferred to Jacque. He stared down at her with pitiless eyes.

“No, that’s not true.”

He reached down, put his hands on her shoulders and pulled her to her feet. She tried not to wince when her bruised body protested but didn’t quite succeed.

“Stop it. You’re hurting her.” Armand stepped toward his cousin.

“Stay out of this,” Jacque commanded, but eased his grip. “This is between me and Gwen. Isn’t it?” He brought her body closer so they were almost touching. He dwarfed her with his size and she’d never thought of herself as a small woman before. She was five-eight but he made her feel tiny. He slid his hand upward until he was cupping her neck in his large hand. She had no doubt he could snap her neck like a twig without even breaking a sweat.

Her heart raced and it was getting more difficult to breathe.

“Tell me more about this book.”

“Jacque.” She heard the warning in Louis’s voice, but it seemed distant.

“Romance,” she managed to croak. Her mouth was dry, her tongue thick. He gently stroked her throat, a chilling reminder of what awaited her if he didn’t like her answer.

He stilled and gave her a puzzled frown. “What did you say?”

She licked her lips and tried again. “Romance. Paranormal.” She didn’t care what he and his buddies thought about the subject matter of her book. “I want to write a romance.” It was a moot point anyway as it was getting clearer by the second that she wasn’t going to live long enough to write it.

“Kill me now,” she demanded. She was sick to death of waiting, of having them be kind to her and give her hope only to smash it. That was more cruel than killing her outright. They were toying with her like she was prey and she didn’t like it. “Kill me or I’ll kill you.” Not much of a threat but it made her feel better.

“Ah, Gwen.” Jacque slid his fingers below her chin and tilted it upward. “Don’t you know by now that I could never hurt you?” He lowered his head toward her and touched his lips against hers.

All the breath went out of her body in a whoosh. Fear, which only moments before had been almost overwhelming her, was replaced by something else, something even more potent—lust.

His mouth ate at hers leisurely, tasting, licking, teasing. Her lungs ached for air by the time she parted her lips. He was ready and slid his tongue inside.

She knew she should protest, should pull away, but it was impossible. She was frozen in place, unable to do anything but feel the passion rising between them. The heat, oh God, the heat was incredible. His big body radiated it like a blast furnace. She shivered and he murmured something low and indistinct before pulling her tight against him.

Her breasts were plastered against his massive chest and her feet left the floor as he lifted her, one of his arms around her waist, the other around the back of her thighs. Still he kissed her, his tongue sliding in and out of her mouth, tangling with hers.

She held on to his broad shoulders for support, digging her nails into the fabric of his T-shirt. She’d been kissed many times in her life but, at that moment, she couldn’t remember a single one. She’d never been kissed like this before. It was all consuming. Jacque was totally focused on her and she on him.

Little flickers of heat erupted throughout her body, first at her breasts and then spreading down between her thighs. Her aches and pains were momentarily forgotten in a haze of passion. He shifted her, bringing her breasts even tighter against his chest. The tips were puckered, the nubs pushing against the thin shirt she wore.

“That’s enough, Jacque.” The voice, flat and angry, penetrated her consciousness.

They weren’t alone. What in the name of all that’s holy was she doing? She shoved against Jacque’s shoulders and slowly he released her mouth. Her lips tingled and her skin felt flush.

“If we ignore them maybe they’ll go away.” His husky voice raised goose bumps on her arms. The sensual promise almost swayed her before common sense prevailed.

“Put me down.” There was no way she could make him do anything. He was so much bigger and stronger. Yet she somehow knew he would do as she asked.

Slowly, he set her down, letting her body slide over his until her feet touched the ground. Her belly stroked over the large bulge in the front of his jeans. He was very aroused and not the least bit ashamed to show it.

She was aroused too but didn’t think that was exactly a smart thing to give in to at this juncture. She had to keep reminding herself she’d been kidnapped. “That shouldn’t have happened.” Forget that even contemplating the idea of sleeping with him was utterly crazy. He was a complete stranger, and not even a human one. He was her captor, not her friend. She couldn’t forget that again, no matter how her body yearned to be next to his.

Gwen felt betrayed by her own body. When he’d touched her, her mind had taken a vacation and she’d become a creature of pure sensation instead of rational thought. Not good if she hoped to get out of this debacle alive.

Jacque released her and rubbed his thumb over her bottom lip. She fought a shudder of arousal and squeezed her thighs together. He leaned down and breathed deep as if he was inhaling her.

His lips nuzzled her ear. “I can smell your heat,” he whispered.

Gwen was totally mortified. If he could smell her arousal, could the other men?

Humiliation swamped her and, without thought, she brought her knee up hard and fast. Only Jacque’s animal-quick reflexes kept him from taking a hit in the balls. As it was, she managed to catch him in his thigh.

He laughed. The bastard laughed at her.

Fury exploded in her. He’d taken her life from her, snapped it up as though it was nothing. And to him it probably was. He wasn’t human. Maybe he didn’t even care for her kind. Maybe all his talk of not hurting her was nothing but a line. She’d been stupid to buy into it for even one second.

Tears filled her eyes but she blinked them back. She wouldn’t give the bastard the satisfaction of seeing he’d upset her, of seeing her cry. She spun around and came face to face with Armand and Louis. Armand looked concerned and it appeared genuine. Louis looked angry.

She started walking, slapping away Jacque’s hand when he reached for her again. “If you’re not going to kill me than leave me the hell alone.” She sniffed and a single tear rolled down her cheek, betraying her upset. She ignored it and stomped out of the kitchen. Well, she tried to, but she was too shaky and her limbs were stiff, making it impossible to stomp. Still, the intent was there.

Gwen went back to the bedroom and slammed the door behind her, wincing as the sound pierced her already aching head. There was a lock, so she turned that as well. It was only as she lowered herself onto the bed she realized how crazy her actions were. She’d challenged them and they’d let her go. Hell, she’d tried to emasculate Jacque and he’d laughed.

That’s what hurt her most. The bastard had laughed at her. She was hurt and had lost everything, and he’d laughed. Gwen didn’t know what would happen to her and, right now, she was too tired and hurt to care. She closed her eyes and did her best to block out the loud male voices down the hall.

Chapter Six

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Louis yelled at his brother. He wanted to beat Jacque to a pulp and then go down the hallway, scoop Gwen up and take her away.

“I didn’t hurt her,” he pointed out.

“Not physically maybe, but she was crying when she left.” And that hurt Louis to his core. His wolf was drawn to Gwen. He knew she was a potential mate for him, but deep in his heart he knew it wasn’t going to happen. She only had eyes for Jacque. That made him want to hurt his brother even worse.

Jacque raked his fingers through his hair, tugging on the ends briefly before releasing them. “I know. I didn’t mean to hurt her. I couldn’t stop myself from kissing her.”

His brother appeared totally bewildered and Louis felt a tiny shred of sympathy. Not much but enough to keep him from lashing out physically. “She’s fragile right now, physically and emotionally.
We
need to take care of her.” He threw in the
we
as a reminder that he wanted Gwen too. If she’d have him, he’d jump in a split second. Her life with him would be easier. He was a second son and not an alpha.

“I know.” Jacque stared down the hallway. They’d all heard the door slam and the lock turn. The woman had a temper and would keep all of them on their toes. Damned if Louis wasn’t looking forward to it. Their lives had been regimented for far too long, every day the same. Gwen was certainly shaking things up.

“Romance. The woman wants to write romance.” Armand pulled out a chair, turned it around and sat, leaning his arms over the back. “I think I saw some notes in the piles of papers we packed up at her place.” He stared pointedly at Jacque. “We could take her back. Nothing she could write would really hurt her.”

Jacque shook his head and Louis knew exactly what his brother was going to say. He’d been thinking the same thing. “If she gives any kind of details at all and our father or one of the pack in Louisiana reads it, they’ll go after her. It won’t matter if she leaves out names. Even the fact that Hector visited her might be enough if Father finds out.”

Pierre LaForge was a ruthless bastard and wouldn’t even blink at killing Gwen. The sonofabitch would probably enjoy it.

“Jacque is right.” Louis went to the refrigerator and pulled out three bottles of beer. He tossed one to his brother and handed the other to Armand. “Just having met with Hector has endangered her. We should have killed the sniveling bastard weeks ago.”

Jacque twisted off the top and took a long pull of beer. “If we’d done that we’d be no different than the old man.” He leaned back against the granite countertop and contemplated the bottle in his hands.

And that’s why they’d all left, why they’d wanted to forge a new life for themselves far away from their original pack. They didn’t want to be indiscriminate killers, didn’t want to hate all humans. They wanted a chance to find mates and have a life. It was possible now that they’d made the break.