Wolf Fever (15 page)

Ryan smiled and held onto Carol tighter in the bed in her guestroom. After a long night of whimpers and struggling against unseen forces and the most wondrous sex, Carol had finally settled down into a deeper sleep.

And yeah, he was sleeping with her—or trying to, anyway. He wondered now if the way she'd whimpered through the night, half-waking from nightmares, had occurred on other occasions. Was that what had been keeping her awake nights? But every time he had tightened his hold on her, she had relaxed and fallen into a more restful sleep. He didn't need to stay up all night sitting in the recliner, not when he was able to wake at the slightest indication of trouble and shift quickly.

The nightmares she was experiencing gave him even more of a reason to stay with her like this, wrapped
around her like a cocoon surrounding an awakening butterfly. A nearly naked butterfly, her T-shirt drawn midway up her waist, although he'd pulled it down for her a couple of times during the night. Until they'd pleasured each other in wild, abandoned, almost consummated sex. If she'd given him the go-ahead, he might have let his other head rule his actions. But now she again wore her T-shirt, and he his boxers, in case anyone dropped in to check on them.

“Hell, Tom, what did you expect from an alpha male leader? That he'd sit in the recliner dutifully? On the other side of the room?” Jake responded finally.

“Darien said—”

“Our brother can boss around our own people just fine. Others also. But Ryan, if you haven't noticed, doesn't take no for an answer. And he plays by his own rules.”

Ryan could almost hear the smile in Jake's response. And for the first time, he noted Jake had called him Ryan, not McKinley. Even though alphas might not like having to butt heads with others, they still respected each other for having the gumption to stand up for what they felt was right. Had Ryan felt that Carol would have been more comfortable alone in bed, he would have sat in the recliner all night long. But he knew better.

She'd needed someone's comforting touch. If not his, someone else's. And he sure as hell hadn't wanted it to be anyone else's. If any of the beta males had stayed with her and insisted she consummate a relationship while she was half drugged, she might be a mated wolf by now. Not that he had any ready knowledge about what the bachelors were like deep down, but he didn't trust any of them where Carol was concerned.

He ran his fingers through her soft hair, luxuriating in the silkiness. Until last night, when she had talked about the ordeal she'd been through with the psychiatrist— and even her own family not believing her—he hadn't realized how having psychic abilities could have been a problem for her growing up. Now that she was also one of the werewolf kind, she had new problems and more adjustments to make. Neither of which he could comprehend like someone who was forced to live like this.

“He's not right for her,” Tom persisted. “He doesn't believe in her abilities. Hell, she deserves someone who knows just how special she is.”

That Ryan could agree with. She was special all right.

“Did you see the way he kissed her? Danced with her? If you want a chance at her, you'd better make your move.”

Tom responded, “I haven't had dreams of her.”

Silence followed.

Dreams? That was another thing Ryan hadn't believed in. The notion that someone dreamed about mating with the one that fate had chosen for them. Dream mating was something that Darien and some of his family had supposedly been cursed or gifted with. So now Tom thought that dreams would reveal the one for him also?

Pure nonsense.

“Darien might have had the ability, Tom. You can't believe you will, too.” Jake's tone was conciliatory, which surprised Ryan.

He hadn't heard Jake speak like that to his brother since he'd been around the two of them. But he'd heard Jake didn't believe in dream mating either, at least as far as it would involve him.

Someone paced. Then Tom said, “So why don't you make known how you feel about Carol?”

Jake gave a short laugh, but it sounded forced, unnatural. “Seems I'm too late.”

“You can't mean Ryan. Carol needs to stay here. For Lelandi. Carol's one of our pack. She belongs here with us.”

Jake countered with, “She needs to have a mate first and foremost. If Ryan turns out to be the one, so be it. Maybe he can convince her to shift before it's too late. None of us has had an ounce of luck with her. You know how dangerous it is for her not to get some control over her shifting.”

That was another thing Ryan wholeheartedly agreed with. Carol needed to embrace her werewolf half without delay.

The brothers quit speaking, and their footfalls died away as they headed in the direction of the kitchen.

Ryan kissed the top of Carol's head in a protective, consoling way, unwrapped his body from hers, and began to leave the bed. She'd be getting ready for work at the hospital soon, and he intended to be with her every step of the way.

She tossed and turned, her hands searching for something. Him? Hell. Maybe she didn't have to work today. He crawled back under the covers and pulled her into his heated embrace, vowing this time to control his sexual urges better.

Being a bodyguard had never felt quite this… pleasurable. He suspected it would never feel the same way again.

Later that morning, after he had breakfast with Darien, Ryan intended to call Carol's mother about the situation with the psychiatrist. But he didn't want Darien, his brothers, or Lelandi to know about it and get the wrong idea. If they heard he was calling to verify that Carol truly had had an early vision, he was sure that would put him in the doghouse. His investigative skills dictated that he ask Carol's mother about the episode with the psychiatrist to learn how he'd treated her and if her mother believed in Carol's abilities now.

“I've got to make an important call,” he said to Darien as he finished the last of his eggs and another slice of ham, the sun streaming in through the kitchen window and warming the room. Lelandi had relieved him a half hour earlier to sit in the recliner and watch over Carol while she still slept. Lelandi was using the time to catch up on her studies on behavioral psychology.

Tom and Jake planned to hang around the house guarding the ladies today. The brothers had taken up positions in the sunroom and in the den, so they would be safe for the moment.

Darien raised a brow and sipped his coffee. “I understand you slept with Carol last night.”

Alpha leader. Protective of his pack member. No beating around the bush. “She was experiencing night terrors.”

“Anything occur between you two that I should know about?”

Again, to the point.

“If you mean did we mate, no. She was drugged and consequently asleep for the most part, although her nightmares partly woke her half the night.” Darien didn't need to know about the rest.

The doorbell rang and Tom hurried from the sunroom to get it, passing the kitchen on the way to the front door and giving Ryan a reproachful look. Darien smiled wryly.

A couple of minutes later, Tom carried a vase of roses to the sunroom.

Darien motioned to Ryan's phone. “Go, make your call. We're all here to watch over Carol until you return.”

“Take only a minute.” Ryan headed for the great room and then made his way to the back patio. Outside, he called information, got Carol's parents' home phone number, and punched it in.

“Hello?” a woman asked, sounding like Carol, only a little older, but with a voice a little sharper.

“Hello, Mrs. Wood. This is Ryan McKinley.”

Silence.

“I'm a private investigator out of Green Valley.”

“I know who you are,” she growled.

He paused. Hell, had Carol told her mother about him?

“I was calling about…” He rephrased the comment. “Carol told me about her ordeal with that psychiatrist, Dr. Metzger. About how—” The phone clicked dead in his ear.

Carol woke to the turning of pages in the guestroom and felt her legs pinned beneath the comforter, but Ryan was gone. Disappointment vanished when she glanced down and saw what was wedged between her legs. Her heart lifted. Puss. Her tabby: soft, happy, and sound asleep. She couldn't believe Darien had allowed her cat to leave the kennel so he could stay with her.

A warm, fuzzy feeling instantly filled her with serenity. She smiled, pulled Puss into her arms and cuddled him soundly. Then she looked at Lelandi, who was seated in the recliner reading one of her psychology books. Lelandi was determined to become a psychologist. Darien backed her, but he had lots of stipulations about her work. No seeing males who needed her services alone unless she had his permission. He'd prefer it if only females wished her to help them with their life issues. But knowing Lelandi, if anyone made an appointment with her to discuss problems, she'd see them. With or without Darien's approval.

Even though Carol had had a bad experience with a psychiatrist, she knew Lelandi would be perfect as a psychologist. She was a lot more open minded, for one thing.

Carol wished Ryan was still with her, although she was afraid things might have heated up between them again. And this time they might have gotten caught.

On the other hand, maybe he regretted what they had done. She tried not to think of it, but still, a little irksome worry fluttered around in the pit of her stomach. Seeing him this morning without letting on was not going to be easy.

Puss's little motor began to rumble. He stretched a little and then continued to sleep, rolled up in a ball, eyes shut, breathing slight. Carol was thrilled to have Puss back. Sighing, she gave him another gentle squeeze.

What had changed Darien's mind?

Lelandi looked up from her book and gave her a bright smile. “You're awake. How do you feel?”

“Fine. Except for my arm.” The skin was bruised and
the muscle sore. Carol thought what a lousy nurse the man would have made.

“One of the men gave you a shot. The bruise should fade soon. Do you remember what happened?”

“Someone grabbed me from the shower. Stuck the needle in my arm first, though, and I felt drugged. Then he dropped me on the grass, I guess. I must have been slowing them down once Sam and Darien were in hot pursuit. Ryan found me, I think. And carried me back to the house. I recall him rinsing out my eyes, and then that's about it.”

“Hmm. He stayed with you last night. Did anything… happen between the two of you?”

Carol raised her brows. “You think we had sex last night?”

Lelandi smiled a hint. “If you're mated, Darien has to let the bachelors know you're no longer available.”

“We didn't do anything last night.” Not that Carol would admit to, but Lelandi was observing her closely, like a psychologist might observe a subject. She hoped she didn't look as guilty as she felt. “He slept with me?” Wondering how anyone might have known. Had they heard their moans and groans while having sex?

“That's what Tom said. He peeked in on you sometime in the night to see if Ryan needed to be relieved from guard duty and found him with his arms wrapped tightly around you, his back naked. After Darien questioned Tom about every detail for what seemed an eternity— suspecting Tom was leaving some of the story out, Tom finally admitted he'd heard you whimpering and poked his head in to make sure Ryan was being honorable.”

Carol's heart nearly stopped. Had Tom seen them in
the throes of sexual frenzy? “Ryan was being honorable. Just helping to calm my night terrors.”

“About being kidnapped? Or something else? More visions?”

“Don't remember.” Carol yawned. Then she sat up abruptly. “What time is it? I need to get to work.”

“Matthew and Charlotte are working extra half-days to cover for you. Darien doesn't want you working today after what happened last night. Take a break, and you can go back to the hospital tomorrow.”

Carol slid out from under her sleeping cat, who stretched a little but didn't bother opening an eye. She crossed the floor to the antique dresser, jerked the drawer open, and yanked out a bra and panties.