Wolf Fever (26 page)

He strode after her, glancing over his shoulder at Jake. “We'll let you know if we encounter any trouble or, if not, when we reach the hospital.”

Jake gave him a stiff nod.

“Be careful,” Lelandi said to Carol.

“You take care of yourself,” Carol said, her look worried. Then she headed out of doors.

As soon as Ryan and Carol were secure in the truck, he tore off for town. “Had any more visions? Anything about your shifting or the men and the net? The men who were shot?”

She leaned against the seat and ran her hand over his plaid. “No. If I'd had a vision, I might have been able to stop the shift.”

“I know you don't believe it now, but the sooner you embrace our ways, the easier it will be for you to adjust.”

“Thanks for having faith in my other abilities anyway.”

“If you'd danced any longer with me at the gathering the way that you'd done, I would have believed in
anything
.”

She chuckled and then grew serious. “Believing in my sixth sense scares you.”

He cast a wry smile at her. He didn't scare easily, but yeah, knowing a person could have glimpses of future trouble was a bit unnerving. Not only that, but the fact that she could touch an object and gain insight about it seemed too surreal to be true.

She let out her breath. “I thought you ought to know that your sister called me back and talked to me further about you.”

His neck muscles tensed. God only knew what Rosalind had told Carol. That he'd kept a portfolio of pictures of her? That he wanted her to be his mate even before he realized that was the issue? His sister had already stirred up enough trouble.

“She said you used a fake psychic once who got you into real hot water over a case of slander. So I understand how you would feel that we're all frauds.”

“I didn't think you were a fraud, exactly.”

“Right. I just make up stuff because I'm such a great storyteller.”

He rubbed his temple, getting himself deeper into this. “I had to know that you were for real, Carol. From the time we met, I've tried to debunk your ‘visions,' at least in my own mind. It didn't work. Either you had hearing like Silva, which you couldn't have had as a human, or you just happened to be at all the wrong places at the right time. And that was too much of a
coincidence. Unless you were seeking to learn the truth about the murder.”

“And you suspected I might be?”

“No. You're a healer. First and foremost. If you investigate anything, it's related to helping others to heal. Murder cases are not your forte.”

“Hmm.” She unsnapped her seatbelt to slide across the bench seat, snapped on the belt in the middle of the seat, and snuggled up next to him.

He wrapped his arm around her and held her close as he steered the truck with one hand. “About the night you saw some of our kind shape-shifting, I agree with you. You couldn't have witnessed such a thing in the dark. Not without our wolf's vision.”

“But you've never sounded like you believed me. Well, maybe an inkling. Yet you continued to question me and offer other reasons why I thought I had visions.”

He shook his head. “I was grasping at straws, and all of them vanished before I could grab hold. No, I believe you're the real deal. And I need your help.”

She looked up at him with a surprised expression. “My help?”

“In case I'm investigating a situation and you may be able to
see
something I can't.”

“So,
that's
what this is all about. You want me to be your mate so I can solve all your cases for you.”

Loving her sense of humor, he chuckled darkly. “Yeah, devious of me, isn't it?”

She sighed. “I'll help if I can. My visions aren't always predictable. I can't force…”

He looked down at her, his expression warning her he knew better.

“…
always
force them.”

“Only when you're fighting the shift. And that was the other thing. You couldn't fight the shift unless you were somehow special.”

“Special,” she murmured. “No one's ever called me that. Crazy, yes. Well, not so much that word exactly, but Dr. Metzger inferred it.”

“Crazy, eh? You're about the sanest person I know.” He gave her a warm squeeze. “For five months I've been thinking about you. Did Rosalind tell you that? That I've been fiercely distracted? She's a gardener at heart, but she was doing some investigative work of her own, trying to discover what ailed me.”

“She said you have pictures of me. Were they good shots?”

“I figured she'd mention them. I took photos of many of Darien's pack members.”

“Hmm-hmm, and I wasn't under suspicion. Not really, according to Rosalind. So why the pictures? And why so many? Fess up, Ryan. You've always wanted me.” She rested her hand high on his thigh, the heat sizzling through his denims and arousing him instantly. “But now if you want me badly enough, you'll have to deal with Darien.”

“I told you that if I'd wanted you, nothing would stand in my way.”

“Just a little psychic business.”

He sighed. “
That
wouldn't have stopped me. See anything in regards to us being together?”

C
AROL LIGHTLY RUBBED
R
YAN'S THIGH UP AND
down, nearly touching his package on the upsweep. He was ready to pull the truck over and take her for his own before they even reached the hospital, but it was too dangerous with North and his men still unaccounted for.

“Hmm,” she murmured in a sultry way, “I dreamt you came dressed in your plaid to rescue me on a white steed. It was the night North and his men took me hostage. You yanked off your plaid, wearing only your shirt and boots, and wrapped the fabric around me. Then you carried me off to the castle.”

Prophetic that she should dream of him in that way? Or some deep-down Freudian desire to be with him that cast her into a fantasy world where he was her knight? He'd dreamed of her, too, only she was wearing the silky translucent gown that he'd seen her in when she had stood gazing out the window at him.

“Castle? I was the laird, no doubt.” And he would have been, had his family kept the drafty old keep. But sometime or another, they'd lost it to taxes and moved to Prince Edward Island first, and then eventually to North Carolina where many Scots ended up. Werewolf or otherwise. Some of his family settled in Colorado, and there they'd stayed.

“And your clansmen were glad to see you'd finally
found a lady to tame your wild ways,” Carol said, her hand still stroking his thigh with a light touch.

“Sowing my wild oats, you mean.” He winked at her.

“Do that often?”

He laughed. She chuckled. “But I'm worried about being a MacDonald. What if the McKinleys had fought the MacDonalds?”

“In the old days, who knows? Now, it doesn't matter. You know what this means?”

“What?” Her hand paused on his thigh.

“We're moving the engagement date up.”

She stroked his leg some more, and he gritted his teeth against the rising tide of need. “If we have time before Doc and the other men arrive…” he said.

She stilled her hand on his lap. “What about Darien?”

“He'll understand. Believe me. Know anyplace private where we can… sort things out?” He didn't want to tell her that he had already made Jake aware Carol was his, that Silva would be the next to know, or that Darien already asked if he'd take her as a mate.

Chuckling, she squeezed his thigh. “You get right down to business, don't you?”

“You saw me rescue you and whisk you away from the villains to the safety of yon castle, so it seems you had a premonition. Since you can't change fate, we seem destined for this. So, is there any place private where we can go?” he asked again.

Smiling, she shook her head.

“I thought you were an adventurous sort. But more than that, I'll barely be able to move in the direction of the hospital if you keep manhandling me.”

She laughed. “An exam table? Stirrups?”

“No hands examination?” He grinned. “Now that's an idea.”

“The basement has a lounge area, a testing lab, a laundry room, and a snack room. Couches, clean laundry, snacks.”

“Getting better.”

“The nurses' office and the doctor's office have beds for when we have to stay on-call overnight.”

“Can we lock the basement facilities?”

“Yes, all of the rooms will lock. It just depends on what you're in the mood for. When I was in training in Denver, I once found a nurse and a doctor fooling around in a linen closet. But linen closets have never appealed to me. Unless, of course, I got locked in one with a hunk of a guy and had to while away the time.”

“With just any guy?”

She patted his thigh. “Not with just anyone. Twice, I've also discovered patients having sex with lovers in their rooms. Once I'd even knocked, waited for a response, and figured the patient was asleep when no one answered.”

Ryan laughed. “So what did you do?”

“Turned around and muttered something about coming back later. I was embarrassed the first time I caught a middle-aged married couple at it. By the second time, I was getting the hang of it.”

“Sounds like the patients didn't need to be in the hospital. Is an unoccupied patient's bed another choice then?”

She shook her head. “Not unless I'm one of the patients and feeling frisky and the visitor looked a whole lot like you.”

“Sounds like you're an adventurous sport after all.” But this meant a whole lot more to Ryan than the sex. Mating was the selfless commitment between a man and woman that promised a partnership through the rough times, and cherishing the good, a way to carry their genes forward through their offspring, a companion for life. No matter what, his being with her for the long term felt better than right.

He just hoped the problems she was having with transitioning could be resolved once they were mated.

When they arrived at the hospital, the place was quiet. Nurse Matthew met them in the waiting area, gave Ryan a hard look, and then said to Carol, “I bandaged Tom and the others that North and his men had attacked earlier. Sam dropped by to pick up Tom and take him to Darien's house, and Silva's gone with him to stay with Lelandi. The others had someone pick them up and take them home. We've got six guards around the outside of the hospital. The place is quiet with no overnight patients tonight.

“The three men who were shot are being transported here. Should be another hour before they arrive, though. They have to be carried to where a vehicle can reach them and then brought here.

“Doc's sleeping in his room off his office, still in his wolf form. I took blood samples, and the medical technologist has performed routine and some highly specialized tests on them. He went home for the night, if you want to take a look at the results down in the lab.

“You'd know more about them than I would, since you were training in that area before you decided to become
a nurse. With Dr. Mitchell and Dr. Webb both unable to look at them, I don't know who else to send them to. I'm wiped out. Until the wounded men arrive to be patched up, I'm going to lie down in one of the staff rooms.”

“Thanks, Matthew. I'll look at the blood samples in the basement. As soon as the wounded men arrive, I'll be back up here to help you treat them. Just let me know when they're here.”

Matthew nodded and headed for the nurses' room.

Ryan followed Carol down the stairs to the basement, knowing he could never undo what he was about to do— and not regretting that in the least.

“You sure you want to do this?” he asked, just in case she wasn't ready for a full commitment. As they reached the bottom step, he opened the door for her. He had to be certain she wanted this as much as he did.

“No last-minute change of mind?” He was afraid she'd settle for less than a mating again. Although getting hot with her like that again was appealing, he wanted more—to claim her, to make the commitment, to settle down with her.

She gave him a quick smile. “You have to ask? You're not getting cold feet, are you? You promised to help me through what I'm going through. ‘Together,' you said.” She raised a brow.

Just what he wanted to hear. He pulled her close and kissed her, ready to show her just how much he wanted her. Her fingers gripped him tight against her body, and her mouth softened against his kiss. Her body was stiff at first but then melted. His body felt tormented from her touch already, but he knew then that she wanted him just as much as he wanted her.

Her breathing shallow, she suddenly broke free from their kiss and motioned to the door. “Might want to lock it.”

Hating to break the spell of the raw sexual energy spiraling between them, he stalked over to the door and locked it with a click.

The water heater in the next room thrummed as warm heat filtered out of the vents above. Ryan turned off half the lights, cloaking the lounge in darkness. They could still see, but it was a lot more romantic, he thought.

She took his hand and pulled him close again. “You're a romantic at heart, Ryan McKinley. But somehow I'd envisioned you being a little wilder than that.”

He couldn't help smiling broadly at that.

She ran her fingers over his cheek as he rested his hands on her hips.

“You didn't send me flowers like all the other men did.”

“See how well it worked?” he said, raising her face to his.

Her eyes were shadowed pools of blue, filled with anticipation, liquid with desire. Her lips parted, and he kissed the fullness, the softness that was all Carol, while feeling her arms go around his neck as she anchored her body against him.

“Besides,” he said, whispering the words against her lips, his hands shifting lower on her back, “I don't follow trends.”

He reached for her waistband and slid her scrub pants down her legs, bending lower to slip them off completely, and kissing her belly down to her waistband. She pressed against the heel of her tennis shoe to remove it, but he crouched to take off that one and then
the other. Then he slid his hands up her bare leg, kissing her on the inside of the knee.

She shivered.

“Cold?” he asked, rising, his hand sweeping up her thigh and touching her intimately between her legs. The only thing stopping him was her sheer silk panties, like a see-through chastity belt protecting the treasure. But not for long.

He slid the panties down her legs, pressing his mouth against the inside of her knees and pushing them apart to gain entrance. Then with her legs spread, he slipped his fingers into her wet hot cleft, and she immediately arched against him. Her body already screamed for release, the earlier unconsummated sex having been only the beginning.

“Hot,” he said, describing the way she looked and felt.

“Exquisitely hot.” She reached for his belt and struggled to unfasten it while he ran his hands up under her scrubs shirt and massaged her breasts, which were covered in the sheer silk bra without an ounce of padding. The pads of his thumbs stroked her erect nipples, and she closed her eyes, her fingers hesitating at his belt, her full lips parted in wonderment. She moaned softly and then quickly opened her eyes and jerked his belt open. After she slid his zipper down, she trailed her fingers along his rigid length, making it jump to her touch.

He pulled her scrubs top over her head, dropped it on the back of the couch, and then stared at her bra. It was better than lace or opaque material or anything else she might have worn. Her lingerie was sheer delight with her darkened nipples peaked against the fabric. He grasped her waist and licked the tantalizing peaks, first
one through the silky fabric, and then the other as she speared her fingers through his hair, none too gently. Another soft moan from her lips stirred him on.

Fully aroused, he wanted her now before anything stopped him from taking her as his mate. She was playing with his buttons, so he quickly kicked off his shoes, his tongue still teasing a nipple. Then she had his shirt off and on the floor, and his trousers went the way of his shirt.

He attempted to unfasten her bra but couldn't manage, so she grabbed for the fastener while he lifted her and carried her to the couch.

“Do you want to be on top or underneath?” he asked.

“The couch is scratchy. I have very delicate skin.”

“I'll say.” Ryan nuzzled her soft cheek.

“Besides, I'm a take-charge kind of girl.”

He grinned broadly at that. She might think she was, but he had other plans.

Carol loved the way Ryan listened to her wants. With him, the ritual went so much deeper than mere sex. It was a commitment to cherish, to protect, to stand together forever—and forever was a very long time, given the lifespan of a werewolf.

She was ready for the commitment, to be with the man who would risk his neck for her, who embraced her psychic quirks and patiently understood her reluctance to shift. She knew he was the one for her. She only hoped she wouldn't disappoint him as she struggled to accept the changes.

He set her next to the couch before he lay down on it. Naked, muscular, and ready, he smiled with lusty fascination. She crouched next to the sofa, brushing the
light hair on his chest and moving lower, down the trail that led to his erection. The edge of her hand touched the velvet tip, already wet with anticipation and fully aroused. Now he shuddered with expectation as his erection pulsed with craving.

The smile still lit his face, although his eyes were dark with desire. She slipped her leg over his and moved until she was straddling his thigh. He placed his hands on her thighs, stroking and waiting to see what she'd do next.

She felt driven to take charge of her life. To choose Ryan for her own. For once in her life, she wanted to feel in control. Maybe not of her shape-shifting problems or her psychic abilities. But right now, she was in charge of a hunky alpha male that she'd be committed to for the rest of her life. And that felt good.

She moved her hand down his arousal, gliding over the stiff rod, memorizing the feel of every velvet ridge, and only stopping when his erection moved under her light touch. She reached her leg across his other one, spreading herself for him, her belly brushing gently against his heavy arousal.