Wolf at the Door: Salvation Pack, Book 1 (15 page)

He thought about the gun on the kitchen table. Until this mess was over she should carry it with her at all times. She’d also need to see all of them in their wolf forms so she could distinguish friend from foe. Ready or not, she was part of this war between packs, a major bone of contention between them.

Jacque’s feet took him back to his bedroom. There were so many other things he should be doing, but he couldn’t seem to stay away from Gwen. He lowered himself to the bed beside her, careful not to disturb her rest. He watched her as she slept, enjoying the slow rise and fall of her chest and the way she crinkled her nose from time to time, and vowed to protect her forever.

A long while later, he heard someone enter the house. He inhaled deeply and picked up Armand’s scent. The other man paced back and forth in the kitchen, sounding agitated.

Jacque reluctantly left his place beside Gwen and found Armand pacing in the dining area, looking ragged around the edges. “What’s wrong?”

“Andre’s body isn’t there.” He stopped and glared at Jacque. “Are you sure you killed him?”

Jacque started to immediately answer yes but paused. “He wasn’t moving. I had his neck in a choke hold and he was bleeding everywhere. You and Louis were howling so I dropped him and raced back to protect Gwen.”

“Fuck.” Armand raked his fingers through his hair. “That bastard has more lives than a cat.”

“You’re sure no one took his body. Maybe he had more men out there in the woods.”

Armand shook his head. “There were claw marks on the ground where he crawled away. I followed them to the road and they disappeared. He must have parked his truck there. The sonofabitch got away.”

Jacque went to his cousin, placed his hands on the man’s shoulders and looked him straight in the eye. “We will get him. I promise you that. We will avenge your sister’s death.”

Armand nodded and closed his eyes briefly, hanging his head. “I know.”

They hugged briefly and broke apart, more united than ever in their need to see justice done. In the meantime there were more pressing matters to deal with. “You head to town as soon as you’re ready. And, Armand.” The other man paused on his way out the door. “Take Louis with you. Don’t let your anger prod you into doing something stupid.”

Armand said nothing as he turned and left, and Jacque could only hope he’d listen to reason. He didn’t want his cousin to go searching for Andre by himself and end up dead. If Andre had survived, he’d be wounded and extremely dangerous. He’d also be back because he had a score to settle.

Chapter Eleven

For Gwen, time passed in a foggy haze. She mostly slept, waking long enough to eat some of the soup Jacque forced on her and to go to the bathroom. She had a vague memory of a bath, but even that was like a fuzzy dream.

Her body had finally given out on her, demanding she care for it.

When she opened her eyes again, she was more alert than she’d been in a while and had no idea how much time had passed. The room was dark but the curtains were pulled. She couldn’t be sure what time of the day or night it was.

She took a survey of her body and was relieved that she no longer ached as much as she had. She moved both her legs and arms and was satisfied she was on the mend. Even her head had finally stopped throbbing.

Gwen cautiously rolled onto her side, releasing a sigh of relief when she did so without difficulty.

The side of the mattress dipped and a warm hand brushed over her forehead. “How are you feeling?”

Jacque’s voice was low and rough and drifted through her like an intimate caress. “What time is it?”

“It’s early. Just past five.” He cupped her face in his hand and rubbed his thumb over her dry lips. “You should try to drink some water.” He reached over to the nightstand and picked up a glass.

Gwen started to sit up and he was there immediately, his strong arm banded around her back, supporting her as she pushed upward. He put the edge of the glass to her lips and she sipped. The water was cool and wet against her dry throat and she drank greedily until he pulled the glass away.

“Not too fast. You’ll make yourself sick.”

She knew he was right and licked her lips. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” He set the glass back on the nightstand. “Do you need to go to the bathroom?”

His matter-of-fact tone kept her from being too embarrassed. “Please.” She thought he’d help her out of bed and let her lean on him. She should have known better. Instead, he tossed back the covers and lifted her into his arms.

“I can walk.” Really, it was getting ridiculous how much the man carried her around.

He shot her a grin. “But this is so much more enjoyable.”

She hid her smile against his broad chest, rubbing her nose against the smattering of chest hair there. It didn’t surprise her that he was only partially clad. Her memories of him over the past few days were disjointed, but he’d always seemed to be wearing nothing except a pair of jeans.

He slowly released his hand from under her thighs. She steadied herself, curling her toes against the cool bathroom tiles. “Okay?” he asked.

“I’m good. You can wait outside.” No way she was using the bathroom with him in the room. Just the thought made her cheeks warm.

He raised one eyebrow in question but finally turned and left, but not before she caught sight of another grin. Good to know someone was amused by this. She shut the door in his face and then took care of business. When she was washing her hands, she peered into the mirror. There was enough early morning light for her to see herself, but it would probably have been better if she hadn’t. Her hair was standing on end and the bruises had almost faded, leaving part of her face a sickly yellow color. Not her finest hour.

She was wearing a faded mint-green nightshirt. She looked down and frowned when she realized it was one of hers. The thin cotton with the blondes-have-more-fun slogan on the front was one she’d bought herself last year. The garment fell to mid-thigh and covered her adequately, but she wasn’t wearing anything under it.

Gwen rubbed her forehead. Where had the nightshirt come from and who had dressed her? She had a flash of Jacque lifting her out of the bathtub. Obviously, he’d been busy while she’d been mostly out of it.

Her toothbrush sat alongside the sink so she cleaned her teeth and ran a damp cloth over her face to help clear away the cobwebs of sleep. What she really needed was a shower, but she wasn’t sure she was quite up to that yet. Already her hands were trembling from her slight exertions.

“Gwen?” The low tap on the door was quickly followed by the door handle turning. Jacque stuck his head inside the door and pushed it all the way open when he saw her standing in front of the mirror. “You ready to go back to bed?”

He didn’t wait for an answer, but started to scoop her up again. She took a step back. “I want to walk.” She needed to test her legs out and get a better sense of how she was really doing.

He frowned but stayed beside her as she made the short walk back to the bed, his large presence comforting and familiar.

“Where did my nightshirt come from?” She wanted to remain standing when she questioned him but she felt lightheaded. Probably needed to eat. Other than some soup, she hadn’t eaten much in a while. “And just how long have I been out of it?”

“Lie down and I’ll answer all your questions.” He held the covers and waited for her to crawl under them.

She settled herself against the pillow and admitted to herself that she was glad to be prone again. “Well?”

He sat beside her, his leg pressed against hers. Even through the covers she felt the visceral impact of having him so close. Her skin heated and she felt warm and tingly inside.

“You’ve been sleeping on and off for a few days now.” He ran his fingers through his shaggy brown hair and his biceps bulged. “And, as for your nightshirt, it came from your home. All your stuff is in the storage closet at the end of the hall.” He jerked his head toward two suitcases that stood by the dresser. “Most of your clothes are there. What wouldn’t fit in the suitcases is somewhere in the boxes.”

“How did my stuff get here?”

Jacque leaned forward, taking up way too much of her personal space for comfort. She pulled back but there was nowhere to go. Her head was pressed as deep into the pillow as it could go. “Armand and Louis packed it all the night I brought you here. Your demolished car is in one of the large sheds on the property. I told you there was no going back to your old life.”

He was trying to intimidate her and damned if it wasn’t working. Gwen didn’t like that at all. She put her hand on his chest and shoved. Big mistake. He didn’t move an inch and now she could feel the heat from his chest seeping into her skin.

She started to pull away, but he covered her hand with his, trapping it against his skin. His heartbeat thumped against her palm and hers gradually slowed to match the rhythm of his.

“I know it’s a lot for you to take in, Gwen. So much has changed in your life in a matter of days.” He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her wrist. Her heart skipped a beat before resuming. “You were hurt in the accident, brought to a strange place and learned that what you thought to be fantasy was fact.” He sighed and shook his head. “And if that wasn’t enough, you were attacked by a werewolf.”

She was lost in the intense stare of his golden-brown eyes. They sucked her inward until she couldn’t see anything but Jacque.

Gwen forced herself to look away, which was much harder to do than it should have been. Her entire life was upside down and she needed to start making plans. “Where do I go from here?” She hadn’t meant to ask the question out loud, but it had slipped past her lips.

“Here.” Jacque caught the edge of her palm between his teeth and nipped. The sensation shot up her arm and down to her breasts, making them tingle. “You stay here. With me. With us.”

“I can’t do that.” Live in the middle of the woods with five werewolves? Not exactly the life she’d envisioned for herself.

“Why not?” Jacque slid her little finger into his mouth, sucking on it before slowly drawing it out of his mouth, the edge of his teeth scraping her flesh in an erotic caress.

It was getting difficult to think rationally. “Because.” That wasn’t exactly a clever answer, but it was the best she could do under the circumstances.

Jacque smiled, flashing those white sharp teeth of his. “You’ll be safe here and you can write your book. Lots of time. No pressure to do anything else.”

He dangled that option in front of her and she was so tempted to take it. It was everything she’d always wanted—a chance to write her book. But reality reared its ugly head. “I can’t do that. I have to make a living. And if I can’t go back to my own home, I have to pay rent.”

“You have a home here, with me.” He released her hand and planted his alongside her shoulders, effectively caging her in. He smelled woodsy, fresh and male. His gaze was intent as he stared down at her. She swallowed hard.

“Stay with me, Gwen.” He nuzzled the edge of her jaw up to her ear, traced his tongue along the tender whorl, dipping and swirling. “Stay,” he whispered.

Gwen’s entire body was alive, the nerve endings electric. His nearness was making it impossible for her to remember why she couldn’t stay here. “You abducted me.” Yeah, that was a major reason.

“I rescued you,” he countered, his breath warm on her neck.

She scowled. “I didn’t need rescuing,” she protested weakly as he drew the lobe of her ear into his mouth and gently tugged.

“Yes, you did. You just didn’t know it.” Jacque took her mouth in a torrid kiss. He consumed her, taking her breath and replacing it with his. She caught his head in her hands and since she wasn’t sure whether she wanted to pull him closer or push him away, she simply held him.

Confusion swamped her. She shouldn’t be doing this, but she didn’t care. Jacque tasted so good, so right. He’d been by her side whenever she’d surfaced from sleep. Her body recognized him from their steamy interlude of several days ago. Her soul knew him on a deep level she couldn’t explain.

Her fingers sifted through his hair without any conscious direction from her. She was overwhelmed by his kiss. His tongue tangled with hers and she tasted his desperation, his growing lust, and it was one hell of a turn-on.

He levered his body over hers and let his pelvis rest against hers. There was no mistaking his arousal. It pressed hard against her mound. She opened her legs slightly and he fitted himself into the notch of her thighs. The pressure was wonderful, but it quickly wasn’t enough.

“Gwen.” Need and something more was in his tone. She didn’t stop to examine it but responded to it on a deep, visceral level.

“Yes.” She wanted this, wanted to know at least one time what it felt like to have his naked body next to hers, his cock buried deep inside her. She felt empty. Needy. And only Jacque could fill the aching void within her.

It might not be the smartest thing she’d ever done, but that no longer mattered. She’d almost died twice in the past week. Once in the car wreck and the second time during the attack. Who knew what tomorrow would bring? But Jacque was here now and so was she.

He gave a low groan that sounded half like a growl and kissed her again. This time she was ready and kissed him back, no longer content to be passive. She wanted him to know she was an equal partner in this. Her tongue stroked his and she tasted his desire, spicy and hot.