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Charmed by His Love
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Текст книги "Charmed by His Love"


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a good portion of her right shoulder. “You’l be back with

them by sunrise, I promise.”

“I don’t want them to see me like this,” she whispered,

holding the unfastened bra against her breasts.

“They won’t, lass. I’l have ye right as rain before we leave

here. But I’m going to need your cooperation, wife, to let

me heal you.”

She lifted her head to final y look at him. “H-how?”

He smiled. “By kissing away your boo-boos,” he said,

partly to piss her off but mostly because he was serious

about touching every inch of her trembling body.

She looked down at her lap, but not before he saw a

slight scowl tug at one corner of her swol en mouth, and

Duncan took his first ful breath since he’d heard Peter and

Jacob shouting from the boat out on the fiord.

“Where … where’s Chris?” she asked, glancing at where

he’d been standing.

“Right here, actual y, only four hundred years in the past.”

She looked up, this time with a hint of a smile as she

pressed a trembling hand to his cheek and sighed. “You

can be a real bastard like that sometimes,” she said,

dropping her hand and snuggling against him with another

sigh. “Okay, husband, you may start kissing away.”

Epilogue

Peg stood at the end of the Inglenook road, undecided who

was going to burst into tears first, her or Duncan or Mac.

Wel okay, the men might not actual y cry, but they definitely

weren’t looking al that big and strong and unkil able at the

moment. But having barely survived this ordeal twice

already and knowing this time would be even worse, Peg

had al her pockets stuffed with tissues.

Hel , even Hero knew something was afoot.

Olivia seemed to be the only one who didn’t look as if

she were attending a funeral, instead appearing eager to

have the whole matter over with so she could get to the

Drunken Moose for some cinnamon buns. Yeah, wel , the

woman would be wearing a different expression six years

from now. But then, Peg thought with a sigh, she’d be

wearing the same expression herself for the fourthtime.

She real y, real y needed to have a little talk with

Providence, because she real y didn’t think she could go

through this a fifth or sixth time.

“Mom,” Jacob whispered, tugging on Peg’s sleeve. He

held up his other hand to her. “Maybe you should keep this

in your pocket today, ’cause you look like you need it more

than me.”

Peg dropped down to one knee and closed Jacob’s

fingers over the smal , smooth stone Duncan had given him

last night when he’d tucked the boys into bed, which was

identical to the one he’d handed Peter. “Thanks, sweetie,

but I think you better take it with you. And if you get even a

little bit scared today, you reach in your pocket and close

your fist around your very own piece of home.” She pul ed

the straps of his backpack together to press them against

his chest and smiled. “Remember Duncan said that rock is

fil ed with very powerful magic because it came from deep

inside our mountain, and that al you have to do is close

your eyes and picture swimming in the warm water pool

when you’re holding it, and you’l start feeling right as rain in

no time.”

“But don’t forget to take it out of your pocket first,”

Duncan said thickly, having also dropped to one knee. He

brushed a hand—that Peg noticed was shaking slightly—

over Jacob’s hair. “You’re going to be fine,” he murmured,

even as Peg wondered if he was trying to reassure the boy

or himself.

She saw her husband suddenly stiffen then quickly stand

up, his gaze shooting down the main road. He scooped

Peter up in one arm, then reached down and helped her

stand before he scooped Jacob up in his other arm. Mac

was also holding Henry, Peg noticed just as she heard the

rumble of the school bus climbing the long grade that

crested a quarter of a mile down the road.

“Quick, everyone,” Olivia said, pul ing a camera out of her

pocket. “Al of you stand together and I’l get the bus in the

picture with you when it stops.”

Everyone dutiful y moved to the opposite side of the

Inglenook road as directed. Peg pul ed Charlotte and Isabel

in front of her as she tucked herself up against Duncan’s

chest between the twins. Sophie held Mac’s hand as he

held Henry in his other arm, and Hero trotted over and sat

down in front of everyone—only facing the main road

instead of the lens.

“Wait. You need to be in the picture, too,” Peg said. “Trip

the timer and set the camera on the hood of your truck.”

Olivia snapped one quick shot, then rushed around the

front fender of Mac’s SUV. She set the camera on the

hood, then leaned down to align it, pushed a button, and ran

over to tuck herself behind her daughter against Mac’s

side. “Smile, everyone,” she said just as the school bus

ground to a halt on the main road, sending a bil owing cloud

of dust toward them.

“Duncan,” Jacob said. “You got to let us down ’cause we

got to get on the bus.”

Peg took a fortifying breath and turned, reaching up to

take Peter away from him. Only Duncan stepped back, his

grip on the boys tightening. “I’ve got them,” he growled

thickly. “You’re not supposed to be lifting anything heavy.”

Peg looked down to hide her consternation as he turned

and very slowly walked to the school bus, stil carrying the

twins. And then she took another deep breath when

Charlotte slid her hand into hers.

“You’l be okay, Mom,” her daughter said as she started

leading Peg toward the bus. She gave her a squeeze as

she tilted her head up with a smile. “I’m not real sure about

Duncan, though.”

Peg pul ed her to a stop, then grabbed Isabel’s sleeve to

stop her, also. “What am I going to do al day without the

boys stuck to me like glue? And you two,” she said,

smoothing down each girl’s pretty new jacket. She tucked a

strand of hair behind Charlotte’s ear to expose one of her

shiny birthstone earrings. “We had so much fun together

this summer out on Bottomless and hiking the mountain.”

Charlotte patted Peg’s arm, smiling crookedly. “We’l be

back this afternoon, Mom. And don’t worry; Isabel and I wil

keep an eye on Pete and Repeat.”

Peg bunched Charlotte’s jacket in her fist. “You don’t let

anyone at school cal him Repeat, you understand? If you

hear them, you go tel the principal.”

“Mommm,”Isabel said, pul ing Peg along. “Duncan’s

waiting at the door for you to kiss the boys good-bye.”

“Oh. Oh! Peter, Jacob,” she said, rushing to them. She

pul ed each one down and gave them each several loud

kisses. “You both be good, you hear?” she said, gripping

their arms as she valiantly held her tears inside. “I promise

I’l be right there at Ezra’s store waiting to pick you up off

the bus this afternoon.”

“Mommm, good-bye,”Peter whispered tightly, eyeing

the children on the bus eyeing them.

Only instead of setting them down, Duncan walked right

up into the bus behind Sophie and Isabel and Charlotte,

fol owed by Mac carrying Henry.

Olivia slid her arm through Peg’s with a laugh. “Wouldn’t

it be nice if there were a bus that took the men away al day,

too?”

Peg found her first real smile of the morning as she

patted her slightly bulging bel y. “I swear Duncan spends

more time watching me than he does working.” She sighed.

“Apparently pregnant women can’t even lift something as

heavy as a paintbrush, much less hang curtains. And God

forbid I should want to go for a walk in the woods all by

myself,” she said with a laugh.

Olivia snorted, patting her own protruding bel y. “Mac flew

into a panic the other day when I said I was taking Sophie

to Bangor to have a mother-daughter day before school

started. I swear no fewer than two dozen seagul s fol owed

us al the way down to Bangor and back, the little spies.”

She gestured toward the bus—which the men were stillon.

“Honestly, you’d think Henry was going to Siberia the way

my dear sweet husband has been acting al morning.”

Peg shook her head. “I would like to have been a fly on

the wal after you took Henry in to be tested for his grade

level. I bet no one at school knew what to do with him.” She

gave Olivia’s arm a squeeze. “I’m glad you only let them put

him ahead two grades. He might be the smartest kid on the

planet, but he’s stil only six years old. Isabel’s pretty miffed

Henry’s starting school in the third grade with Sophie

instead of in her class.”

“She can’t be any more upset than Mac is,” Olivia said.

“When Sophie showed him some of her schoolwork from

last year, he threatened to open a private school for al our

children right here at Inglenook.” She leaned closer. “He

wanted to bring in a couple of teachers from Atlantis,

claiming he was fluent in six languages and doing algebra

by the time he was Sophie’s age.”

“He’s a friggin’ wizard,” Peg said on a laugh. “He

was probably doing algebra in the womb.” She glanced

down at Olivia’s bel y, figuring they’d have their babies

within a few weeks of each other. “So, when are you going

to tel me if you’re having a boy or a girl?”

“When it’s born,” Olivia said. “Mac wants to be surprised,

so he’s not peeking.”

They both looked up at the sound of the bus final y

leaving, and Peg had to grab Duncan as Olivia grabbed

Mac, and the women pul ed them over to the side of the

road. Duncan had brought his little clan over on the pontoon

boat this morning to join the Oceanuses so al the children

could meet the bus together for the thirty-mile ride to

Turtleback Station on this first day of school.

“The bus turns here,” Olivia explained when Mac frowned

at her, “because this is its last stop now that Peg lives

across the fiord.”

The men wrapped their arms around their respective

wives, Duncan resting his chin on Peg’s head. She smiled

when she felt the tension in him as the school bus backed

into the Inglenook road then turned and headed toward

town, and Peg felt her first tear slip free when she saw

Peter and Jacob’s excited little faces looking out the

window as they waved to her.

Duncan dropped his arms from around her when the bus

suddenly stopped not a hundred yards down the road and

the driver’s head popped out a window. “Somebody want

to come get this dog off the bus?” he hol ered back with a

grin.

Duncan took off with a muttered curse, running down the

road and disappearing up the ditch side of the bus, only to

reappear a minute later carrying Hero as the dog kept

whining and frantical y struggling to get down.

Mac suddenly ushered Peg and Olivia toward the SUV.

“We should probably hurry to the Drunken Moose before

al the buns are gone,” he said, opening the back door for

Peg before leading Olivia around to the front passenger

side.

Duncan tossed Hero in the back, then got in the seat next

to Peg. “Let’s go,” he said, his attention on the bus rumbling

out of sight down over the hil .

Mac pul ed onto the main road without even looking for

traffic, and Olivia glanced over her shoulder at Peg, her

eyes dancing with amusement. But instead of going around

the bus when it pul ed over to let them pass, Mac patiently

made every stop it did to pick up more children before

reaching town. And then, instead of pul ing into one of the

open parking slots, he stopped right in the middle of the

road.

“Why don’t you ladies go in and visit with Ezra,” Mac

suggested to Olivia. “There’s a store in Turtleback that

Duncan says has the exact pair of work boots I need for the

construction site, so I believe we might as wel run down

and get them right now. We’l be back in no time, and then

we’l al go over to the Drunken Moose for breakfast.”

Peg figured Olivia didn’t move quite fast enough when

she saw Mac unclip his wife’s seat belt, then lean over and

give her a quick kiss on the cheek just as her door suddenly

opened on its own. “See you soon, honey.”

Duncan pul ed Peg out his side of the truck with him,

gave her a quick kiss on her forehead, then hugged her.

“Ye don’t fret over the boys,” he whispered. “They’l be just

fine,” he said, again making Peg wonder who he was trying

to reassure when he jumped in the front seat and Mac took

off before he even had his door closed.

Olivia slid her arm through Peg’s and started walking

toward the path leading down to the newly reconstructed

park at the foot of the fal s. “How much do you want to bet

they get halfway back here before they remember they went

to buy boots?” she asked, pul ing Peg down beside her on

one of the benches.

Mimicking Olivia, Peg also leaned back, folded her

hands over her bel y, and shook her head with a laugh that

stil had a lingering trace of tears. “Aren’t we lucky to have

both fal en in love with big, strong, invincible men?”

“And charmed,” Olivia whispered, nudging Peg’s

shoulder with her own. “Let’s not forget how charmed they

both are.”

LETTER FROM LAKEWATCH

Spring 2012

Dear Readers,

Mother Nature absolutely has no modesty. I can

personally attest to this, as for the last several days

there’s been a lot of sex going on just outside my

writing studio. I’ve stormed out onto my deck and

shouted that I’m trying to write a book here, so could

everyone please go get a room, only to be answered

by such raucous laughter that I had to slink back

inside and close my windows and pull the shades.

Honestly, I swear they shouted right back at me to

get a life, lady.

It’s not just those horny mallard drakes all vying for

the attention of a single harried hen, either. It’s my

dear sweet crows renewing their vows of monogamy

while directing maiden aunts and bachelor uncles on

building a new nest. It’s a pair of bald eagles trying to

get this year’s family started while putting up with last

year’s offspring complaining that they’re bored and

can’t find anything to eat. And it’s loons showing up

with the first crack in the ice large enough to be a

landing strip and immediately starting in with their

haunting, tremulous calls day and night. It’s male

woodpeckers incessantly tapping a metal chimney,

hoping there’s a cute little female within earshot.

Muskrats, robins, squirrels, skunks, fox, osprey,

Canada geese; you name it and LakeWatch has it—

all having sex (or trying damned hard to) right there

in broad daylight, in plain sight of children walking

home from school. Heck, even the frogs and peepers

are calling from the bogs before the ice is completely

gone from the lake.

I’m beginning to think one of the most powerful

forces in the universe is the need to reproduce.

Pacific salmon die swimming upstream to lay their

eggs. A mama octopus starves tending her brood

and is too weak to save herself once her little octopi

set off to explore the deep blue sea. Even plants are

more concerned with furthering their species than

saving themselves, putting their energies into

propagation at the first signs of stress. (I believe I’ve

mentioned before that I’m addicted to the Discovery

Channel.)

Speaking of energy; I must be getting old, because

I look at young people and wonder where they get the

energy to deal with all the drama involved in pairing

up while trying to get their own lives in order. I feel

even older still seeing them having babies, when my

husband and I need naps after our grandkids come

visit for just a few hours.

I digress. Sorry. Back to Mother Nature’s

immodesty and how that inspires my writing. I get a

lot of raised eyebrows when I say I’m a romance

author—usually from the men. The women usually

just ask for titles. (When my husband gets one of

those raised eyebrows, he just says he does all my

research. Honestly, he says that with a perfectly

straight face! But it effectively forestalls any more

questions, and is quite often met with envy from the

men.)

From the prudes I immediately get, “Oh, you write

those kinds of books.”

Yes, I do, and I’m damned proud of it. Can

somebody please tell me how to tell a story involving

two people falling in love and not have sex be part of

their journey? Sure, I could have the hero sweep the

heroine into his arms and carry her into the bedroom,

then have him kick the door closed with his foot to

keep the reader out. But honestly, I want to go in there

with them, because I’ve discovered you find out an

awful lot about people when they’re naked. Stuff you

would never find out when they’re all dressed up in

their designer-label armor. A sassy-mouthed vixen

suddenly becomes self-conscious; a powerful warrior

hesitates; a wallflower awakens.

It’s not about the sex; it’s about the love. It’s

discovering who is really hiding behind the masks

people hold up to the big scary world, and about the

truly most powerful force in the universe—that of love

rippling with passion and desire.

Birds do it, bees do it; and if those noisy ducks can

do it with wild abandon right there on my beachfront,

then by God my hero and heroine had better let me—

and my readers—sneak into the bedroom while they

do it.

We promise we won’t giggle … too loudly.

Until later from a raucous LakeWatch, you keep

reading and I’ll keep writing.

Janet

Keep reading for an excerpt

from the next Spel bound Fal s romance

by Janet Chapman

Courting Carolina

Available September 2012 from Jove Books

Alec heard the distinct rumble of thunder over the gush of

the cascading fal s and tossed his shovel onto the stream

bank with a muttered curse before vaulting up behind it. He

picked up his shirt and used it to wipe the sweat off his

face, then turned to glare at the dark clouds rol ing across

the fiord toward him. “Go around!” he shouted, pointing

north with his free hand as he wiped down his chest. But the

storm gods didn’t have any sense of humor, apparently,

and the hairs on his arms stirred just as lightning flashed on

a sharp crack of thunder. “Wel , fine, then!” he shouted with

a laugh as he bolted toward camp. “Take your best shot,

you noisy bastards!”

Alec slipped into his shirt when the wind pushing ahead

of the storm took on an ominous chil , and lengthened his

stride when he realized he was losing the footrace to the

sheet of rain sweeping up the mountain. How in hel had he

been caught by surprise? There hadn’t been a cold front

forecast to come through or even any clouds in the crisp

September sky ten minutes ago. Another crack sounded to

his right just as the wind-driven rain hit with enough force to

make him stagger, and Alec scrambled to catch himself

with another laugh.

But he came to an abrupt halt at the sound of an

unmistakably feminine scream, fol owed almost

immediately by an enraged shout that was also human—

and male. He held his breath through several heartbeats,

trying to discern its direction in the downpour, then took off

at a run again, leaving the trail at a diagonal down the

mountain. He weaved through the old-growth forest even as

he wondered who was out here, as this section of the

resort’s wilderness trail was closed to guests until he had

al the footbridges and lean-tos in place.

Alec came to a halt again next to a large tree and lifted

his hand against the rain as he quickly calculated his odds

of saving the woman without getting himself kil ed in the

process. The two brutes attacking her weren’t much of a

worry, whereas the large dog racing up the mountain

toward them might be a problem.

The woman gave another bloodcurdling scream as she

bucked against the man straddling her, and twisted to

clamp her teeth over the wrist of the guy kneeling at her

head pinning down her hands. His ensuing shout of pain

was drowned out by a vicious growl as the dog lunged at

the man on top of her, the animal’s momentum sending

them both tumbling to the ground.

Okay then, the dog was on her side. Hoping it realized he

was also on the woman’s side, Alec drove his boot into the

ribs of the man she’d bitten, sending him sprawling into a

tree just as lightning struck so close the percussion

knocked Alec to his knees. And since he landed next to the

woman, he caught her fist swinging toward him, grasped

her waist with his other hand, and lifted her to her feet.

“Run! Up!” he shouted as he gave her a push. “God

dammit, go! The dog and I wil catch up!”

She hesitated only a heartbeat, but it was long enough

for him to see the stark terror in her eyes as she glanced at

the dog before she turned and ran uphil . The guy he’d

kicked lunged at her on the way by, and Alec leapt to his

feet when he realized the bastard had a knife.

The woman scrambled sideways, crying out as she

grabbed her leg and kept running. The man started after

her again but suddenly turned at Alec’s roar. Alec caught

the wrist holding the knife and drove his boot into the man’s

ribs again, twisting the guy’s arm until he felt it snap before

plunging the blade into the bastard’s thigh. He then spun

around when the dog gave a yelp, only to see it regain its

footing and lunge again, this time going after the arm

holding a goddamned gun.

Alec slammed into the guy, grabbing his wrist just as the

weapon discharged. The dog tumbled back with a yelp,

and Alec snapped the bastard’s arm over his knee,

causing the gun to fal to the ground. He then shoved the

screaming man headfirst into a tree, watching him crumple

into a boneless heap before he turned and rushed to the

dog that now had its teeth clamped down on the other

man’s neck.

“Hey, come on!” he shouted over another sharp crack of

thunder. He grabbed the dog by the jowls and pul ed it

away. “That’s enough,” he said, holding its head from

behind so it couldn’t turn on him. “I know you’d like to see

them both dead, but they’re not worth the hassle it’s going

to cause us. Easy now, calm down,” he said loudly over the

raging storm, guiding the dog uphil several steps then

giving it a nudge with his knee. “Go on. Go find your lady.”

The dog hesitated just as the woman had, its eyes

narrowed against the rain and its lips rol ed back, then

suddenly took off in the direction she’d run and

disappeared into the storm. Alec looked down at the man

cradling his broken arm against the knife in his thigh, knelt

to one knee, and drove his fist into his face. “Sleep tight,

you son of a bitch,” he muttered, glancing over to make

sure the other guy was stil out before he also headed uphil

at a run.

Only he hadn’t gone two hundred yards before he found

the woman lying facedown on the soaked forest floor, the

dog licking her cheek. Alec approached cautiously,

crooning calm words loud enough to be heard over the

pounding rain, and slowly knelt on the other side of her. He

laid a firm hand on the dog’s raised hackles when it

stiffened on a warning snarl. “You’re going to have to trust

me, ye big brute. Your lady’s hurt, and I need to see how

badly.”

He felt the dog—he suspected it was a wolf or at least a

hybrid—tremble with indecision, and Alec slowly reached

out with his other hand and touched the woman’s hair,

which was plastered to her head. “Easy now,” he said when

the snarling grew louder, moving his fingers to her neck to

feel for a pulse. He breathed a sigh of relief to find it strong

and steady, and careful y rol ed her over. “There we go,” he

said, releasing the dog when it lowered its head and

started licking her face again. Alec slid an arm behind her

shoulders and a hand under her knees, and stood up.

He headed uphil until he came to the trail and turned

toward camp. “No, heel!” he snapped when the dog

stopped and looked back down the mountain. “They’re not

going anywhere.” The animal fel in step beside him, and

Alec repositioned the woman’s head into the crook of his

neck to keep the driving rain off her face, and blew out a

harsh breath to tamp down his own anger. Christ, it had

been al he could do to keep from kil ing the bastards

himself when he’d caught them brutalizing her.

What was she doing out here? Had the men brought her

into the wilderness to rape and kil her and bury her body?

The nearest old logging tote road was six miles to the

south, and the resort itself was over ten miles away on top

of the mountain. But she’d been running up from the fiord—

which was just a mile below his camp—which meant they’d

probably come by boat.

Alec scaled the lean-to steps, then dropped to one knee

and careful y set the woman on the plank floor beside his

sleeping bag, keeping her upper half cradled against his

chest. He slid his hand from under her knees, then had to

shove the dog away when it started licking her again. “Nay,

you let me check her out,” he murmured as he smoothed

the hair off her face—only to suck in a breath.

She was stunningly beautiful but for the angry welt on her

pale cheek and the darkening bump on her forehead that

ran into her hairline. Alec looked down at her endlessly long

legs and saw the bastard’s knife had drawn blood.

Realizing she was shivering violently, he started undressing

her, but stil ed in surprise again when he pul ed her soaked

blouse out of her pants and saw the dark bruise on her

side. It ran over her ribs into her sheer blue bra, and he

recognized that it was two or three days old. Fil ed with

renewed rage, he careful y worked the blouse off her

shoulders, only to find her arms also covered in smal

bruises, some of them appearing to be fingerprints.

It was obvious the woman had been struggling against

them for several days, and he started rethinking his

decision not to kil the bastards as he continued exposing

the ful extent of her nightmare. Feeling much like the storm

raging directly overhead, Alec fought back the darkness

that had been his life for eight years when he caught himself

thinking there wasn’t any reason he couldn’t bury the men

out here; quietly, efficiently, and with the calm detachment

he’d once been known for.

The woman had obviously been bound, as evidenced by

the raw chafing on her wrists. He found more bruising on

her legs when he careful y peeled down her slacks, and she

was missing a shoe. Alec pushed the dog out of the way,

lifted back the edge of his sleeping bag, and careful y set

her inside it.

He pul ed over his duffel bag and dug around until he

found a T-shirt. “Sorry, sweetheart,” he murmured as he sat

her up and unhooked her bra, “but I’m afraid getting you

completely dry trumps modesty at the moment.” He worked

the T-shirt over her head, careful y slid her arms into the

sleeves, and smoothed it down over her utterly feminine,

rose-tipped breasts al the way to her thighs. He pul ed her

heavy mess of long, wet hair out of the col ar and laid her

down, then grabbed a towel hanging on the back wal of the

lean-to and wrapped it around her head. Setting his jaw

determinedly, he slid his hands under the T-shirt and

careful y worked off her matching blue panties, but stopped

when he reached the knife gash. “Damn,” he growled,

pul ing off the panties and tossing them beside the

discarded bra. He tucked the sleeping bag over her upper

half and opposite leg, then dug through his duffel for the

medical kit.

The dog settled against the woman’s side and rested its

chin on her shoulder, keeping a guarded eye on him.

“You’re a good friend,” Alec said conversational y as he

examined the wound on her thigh. “Ye can guard my back

anytime you’re wanting.”

It wasn’t a deep gash that needed stitching, he was

relieved to see as he careful y cleaned it with gauze then

started placing butterfly bandages along the length of the

cut. He dabbed it with salve and covered it with another

piece of gauze, taping it into place before tucking the baby-

soft leg into the sleeping bag.

“Had ye reached the end of your strength or is that bump

on your head making you sleep?” he asked the

unconscious woman, careful y lifting first one and then the

other of her eyelids. Again relieved to see her pupils

appeared normal and even, Alec sat down and took off his

boots. He then stood up and started stripping off his own

wet clothes as he studied what was definitely a ful -bred

wolf. A northern timber wolf, he would guess; its long guard

hairs muted black over a soft pelt of gray, with piercing

eyes of hazel-gold watching him from a broad wet face.

“Aye, you’re a good partner in a fight,” he said as he

shoved off his pants and boxers. “And I thank you for not

going for mythroat.”

The wolf’s brows were al that moved as its gaze fol owed

Alec around the shelter as he dried off with another towel

and slipped into clean clothes. He pul ed the band off his

wet hair, toweled it dry as wel , then combed his fingers

through the shoulder-length waves before tying them

against the nape of his neck again. He crouched down and

laid a hand on the woman’s forehead, gently smoothing her

brow with his thumb. “She’s going to be okay,” he promised

the wolf as he stood up and walked to the front rail of the

three-wal ed lean-to that sat twenty yards up from the trail.

The storm was final y making its way north between

the mountain they were on and the one at the end of the

fiord, leaving in its wake an almost obscene silence but for

the water gently dripping off the leaves. Alec glanced in the

direction of the men and blew out a sigh, then walked to the

rear wal and pul ed down a smal backpack. He placed a

coil of rope inside, along with the resort’s satel ite phone

and the medical kit, and slipped the pack over his

shoulders. He sat down and dug two pairs of socks out of

his duffel, putting on one pair fol owed by his boots, then

rol ed to his knees and peeled back the bottom of the

sleeping bag.

He slid off the woman’s socks—one of them

shredded from her running in only one shoe—and covered

her feet with his hands to take away some of the chil . He

then slipped his oversized socks on her and tucked the bag

around her legs before moving to her head. Alec reached

inside the sleeping bag, pressed his palm just below her

col arbone, and felt her steady heartbeat and even

breathing.

“Ye stay here and keep warming her up,” he told the wolf,

tucking the bag tightly around the woman before standing

up, “while I go tie our two sorry friends to a tree and cal the

sheriff to come get them. And I’l cal the resort to come get

your lady.” He grinned down at the wolf. “I hope ye like

riding in a helicopter.”

Alec started to leave, but stopped when the woman

suddenly moaned, and he turned to see her lift a hand from

the confines of the sleeping bag when the wolf licked her

face. He crouched down beside her again, laying a

steadying hand on her shoulder when she tried to sit up.

“Easy, now. You’re safe. No one’s going to hurt you.”


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