Page 11 of Wedding for My Werewolf (Fairhaven Falls #7)

CHAPTER 11

E ric stood outside Robin’s door for a long time, listening to the sound of her steady breathing, his wolf clawing at his control. Her scent lingered in the air and he raised his hand to his mouth, tasting her sweetness on his fingers. Fuck, he wanted more. Wanted to bury his head between those delicate thighs and feast on her.

When she’d told him no one had touched her before, a wave of possessiveness had nearly drowned him. He wanted to be the only one who tasted her, the only one who saw her shatter. He wanted to spend the next month exploring her body, learning every inch of her.

But the truth was that this was just a temporary arrangement.

His wolf growled. No. Ours.

With a muttered curse, he stripped off his clothes, letting the change take him. Bones shifted and reformed, fur rippled across his skin. In moments, a massive black wolf stood where the man had been.

He nosed open the back door and burst into the night. Snow flew under his paws as he raced through the trees, drinking in the cold winter air. The forest welcomed him with its familiar symphony—the whisper of wind through branches, small creatures scurrying away from his path, the distant call of an owl.

But even the burn in his muscles and the cold night couldn’t clear his head. His wolf wanted to turn back, to curl around her and keep her safe from whatever shadows haunted her.

He pushed harder, faster, until the trees blurred past. He couldn’t afford to let his feelings complicate this arrangement. She needed his protection, not his desire.

The moon rode high overhead as he ran, its silver light painting the snow-covered landscape in shades of blue and shadow. His wolf reveled in the freedom, but he couldn’t escape the truth—he was in dangerous territory, and it had nothing to do with the woods around him.

He finally came to a halt next to a half-frozen waterfall and lapped up some water as he waited for his breathing to steady. A branch snapped in the darkness, too heavy to be prey. His ears swiveled toward the sound as he caught an unmistakable scent—orc, mixed with wood smoke and herbs. His hackles rose as Varek’s massive form emerged from between the trees.

The orc hesitated, his green skin almost gray in the moonlight. Despite his size advantage, Varek took a step back, his eyes darting to the sides as if seeking an escape route.

“Sheriff,” Varek said, a cautious note in his deep voice. “Didn’t expect anyone out here tonight.”

He shifted back to human form, unconcerned with his nudity in the frigid air.

“You’re a long way from your cabin, Varek.”

Varek lived in an isolated cabin between Pack territory and Nakor Earlsworth’s extensive property. Given how territorial the dragon could be, it had always surprised him that he’d allowed anyone that close.

“Just gathering some night-blooming herbs,” Varek muttered, holding up a half-full basket.

The orc’s reputation for violence preceded him, but Eric had never had any trouble with him and there was no aggression in his stance. If anything, he seemed eager to retreat.

“Are you still living out in the woods by yourself?” he asked, and Varek gave him a wary look.

“Why would I want anything else?”

“Gets lonely on your own.”

As soon as he said it, he regretted it. He had no business interfering in Varek’s life—although he had an unfortunate suspicion that he’d been thinking more about his own life.

“Fuck,” the orc growled. “You’re as bad as Flora. Why can’t everyone leave me alone?”

Varek turned and stomped off into the woods, leaving Eric to stare after him in surprise. He hadn’t known Flora had any contact with the reclusive orc. He grinned and shook his head. If Flora had plans for Varek, he might as well give in now. Thank goodness she’d never aimed her sights at him?—

Had she? She had been the one to suggest the fake mating arrangement after all.

Not fake , his wolf grumbled. Fuck.

Deciding to worry about Flora’s schemes later, he shifted back into his fur and headed back to his cabin. He’d been self-indulgent, running to escape his thoughts when he should be guarding his cabin. His home. Robin.

The word ‘home’ caught him off guard. But as he loped back through the trees, he realized it felt true. The cabin had always been his refuge, but now that she was there it felt complete in a way he hadn’t expected. Her scent mixed with his, the soft sounds of her breathing, even the way she smiled at him across the table…

He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. This was temporary. Just until her name was cleared.

As soon as he slipped into the house, her scent wrapped around him, warm and welcoming. He padded silently to her door and eased it open a crack, drinking in the sight of her asleep in his bed. His wolf settled as he watched her sleep, satisfied that she was safe and protected in his bed.

The next morning he escorted her to work again. As they walked down the narrow strip of cleared sidewalk, his arm brushed her shoulder and she blushed—something she had been doing almost continuously since she’d appeared in the kitchen doorway that morning, flushed and shy and absolutely adorable. He’d wanted nothing more than to sweep her into his arms and continue what they’d started the night before, but two things prevented him. First was the fact that she was under his protection. The second was an extension of that—he didn’t want to take advantage of her innocence under those circumstances.

As much as his wolf urged him to claim her, to mate her, he knew she would need time. And, if he were honest, so would he. He was accustomed to keeping people at a distance, and the fact that she’d already slipped past his defenses scared him more than he wanted to admit. So instead of carrying her back to his bed, he’d made her coffee and pancakes and now he was walking her to Garrick’s mansion.

When they reached the iron gates, she turned to face him, her cheeks pink from the cold—and something else. She glanced around the empty street.

“Maybe you should kiss me goodbye,” she said softly. “Someone might see. Unless you don’t want to,” she added quickly.

“I told you I wanted to kiss you,” he growled, his wolf whining at the uncertainty on her face. “I always want to kiss you.”

“Oh.”

Her pretty lips formed a tempting circle and he couldn’t resist. She’d initiated this. His wolf howled in triumph, but he kept his movements gentle as he cupped her face. Amber eyes flickered to his mouth, then back up as she wet her lips nervously.

The first brush of her lips shot fire through his veins. She tasted like the coffee they’d shared at breakfast, mixed with something uniquely her. Her fingers tightened on his jacket, pulling him closer. His wolf surged forward, demanding more, but he held back, letting her set the pace.

She made a small sound in her throat that nearly broke his control. He deepened the kiss, sliding one hand into her hair while the other slid into her coat and beneath her sweater to the sweet curve of her waist. Her heart thundered against his chest, matching his own racing pulse.

When they finally broke apart, her breath came in short gasps, those pretty lips pink and swollen. The sight made his wolf want to drag her back to the cabin and never let her leave.

“I’ll be back to walk you home tonight,” he said instead.

For once she didn’t argue, just gave him another shy smile before she punched in the key code and slipped through the gates. He waited until she was inside before turning and striding back to his office.

His mother’s scent hit him as soon as he opened the door and he bit back a groan. The last thing he wanted to do right now was to deal with her.

Tilly, his pixie assistant, gave him a helpless shrug.

I couldn’t stop her , she mouthed, and he gave her a grim nod.

His mother was perched on the edge of his desk, her lips pressed into a thin line.

“That girl is hiding something,” she said, drumming her perfectly manicured nails on the wooden surface. “Lila told me she’s been behaving very suspiciously.”

The mention of Lila’s name made his jaw clench. “Since when do you take Lila’s word as gospel?”

“Since my son started consorting with a human who appeared out of nowhere. The Pack has concerns?—”

“The Pack, or you?”

“Don’t take that tone with me. I’m looking out for your interests.”

“My interests are none of your business.” He moved behind his desk, putting space between them. “Robin is my mate. That’s all you need to know.”

“But—”

The door burst open and Flora swept in, her red and white striped tracksuit making her look like a slightly demented elf.

“Marjorie! Just the wolf I was looking for.” She hooked her arm through his mother’s. “The garden club is in crisis. Someone wants to plant wolfsbane next to the petunias. Can you imagine?”

His mother tried to pull away. “Flora, I’m in the middle of?—”

“Nonsense. This is an emergency.” Flora winked at him as she dragged his protesting mother toward the door. “The reputation of our entire horticultural society is at stake.”

The door clicked shut behind them, leaving blessed silence in their wake. Interfering or not, he’d never been so glad to see Flora. He sank into his chair, making a mental note to buy her a thank-you gift. Maybe some of Esmeralda’s flowers—and he could pick up some for Robin at the same time.

The prospect made him smile, but his mother’s questions renewed his concerns. He’d agreed not to question her, but how could he help her if he didn’t know what she was running from?

He stared at his computer screen, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. His wolf growled at the thought of betraying her trust, but the bounty hunter’s presence nagged at him.

He sighed and typed “Robin Halloway” into the database. He sorted through the results until he came across a picture of her taken from an employee ID. She looked so much younger, happier, that it made his chest ache. He scanned through the attached information and found it was a missing persons report, filed by her boss, Martin Kendrick. According to the report, she’d vanished, leaving everything behind—her apartment, her bank accounts, her whole life.

His wolf snarled. It didn’t make sense. Why had she run? Why was she hiding in a small town and working as a housekeeper? And why was her boss the only one to report her missing?

He pulled up Kendrick’s name and frowned. The man was an upper level employee at a large import/export firm, and on the surface nothing appeared to be wrong—a couple of parking tickets and a restraining order, the latter dismissed. His eyes narrowed and he dug deeper, finding a pattern of complaints that stretched back years, all involving women. A few of them had pressed charges, but none had come forward when his lawyer had argued the case. Nothing appeared to stick to him.

One of the attached photos caught his eye. Kendrick at some kind of public function. Innocuous enough, but when he looked closer he spotted a man in a leather jacket in the background. Thatcher. He checked the date of the photo and saw it was taken five years ago which suggested that the two of them had been associated for at least that long. What was a so-called respectable businessman doing with a shady bounty hunter? And why send a bounty hunter after her at all unless she’d performed some kind of criminal act?

He closed the browser, rubbing his face. The Robin he knew—who cooked him dinner, who stood up to his pack, who melted into his kiss and came apart at his touch—wasn’t a criminal. But she was definitely running from something. Or someone.

His phone buzzed. A text from one of his deputies about Thatcher asking questions again. His grip tightened on the phone. Whether she was innocent or guilty, he’d meant what he said about protecting her. And he intended to find out exactly what Rick Thatcher was doing in his territory.