McQuade: The Lone Wolf Takes A Mate (11 page)

Damn it, she had to be just one night. Otherwise, he would never have let her go. And McQuade didn’t do long-term. He liked his freedom.

Like running right now. If he had a mate, he’d have to let her know where he
was going, how long he’d be gone and, quite possibly, worry about her safety the whole time he was away from her.

Like you’re worrying about Rose right now?
his wolf questioned.

He was in the middle of telling his wolf to shut the hell up when the strangest thing happened.
A chill of fear ran down his back, setting his fur on end. Suddenly he felt compelled to get to Rose as fast as he could. In minutes, he was back to his cabin, shifting into his human form and dressing in record time. He called Briggs and left a message on his cell phone, telling him where to meet him. Again, he didn’t know why, but he knew he was going to need the other man.

The muscles in his stomach
clenched and a feeling he hadn’t experienced in a very long time built inside him–pure unadulterated terror. The ride into town was the longest of his life. He’d bitten Rose at the bar to avoid this exact situation. This overwhelming urge to protect. He told himself he’d fucked her for the same reason.

His wolf
growled at him.

The thought of Rose
in danger, or worse, hurt, made his skin feel tight. He knew it was the wolf trying to burst out, fighting the human barrier that held him captive. He pushed the bike to its limits, roaring down the road. He wanted to howl at his helplessness. Something inside him told him to go faster. And faster.

Once he arrived at her apartment
, he pulled onto the sidewalk, barely taking time to set the kickstand on the expensive machine. Instinctively he started up the stairs but his wolf heard a sound. Scanning the area quickly, he caught a blur of movement and took off down the block. At the corner, he saw her. She was lying on the sidewalk, unmoving. Sniffing the air, he growled his relief. No blood.

Damn it to hell. Inside his wolf was howling, wanting to break free and cover those last few feet to get to her faster.
McQuade reined him in, surging forward and dropping to his knees beside her prone figure. Running his hands over her swiftly, he checked for serious injuries and broken bones. If she had been seriously injured–taken from him–the light would have leaked from his soul. Thankfully, she appeared unharmed and his wolf calmed.

Until he smelled the shifter. His claws extended and the change would have overwhelmed him if she hadn’t moaned. No one, no one would be allowed to hurt this woman again. Ever.

Gathering himself, he lifted her head gently, almost afraid to touch her, fearing he would cause her pain. “Rose, Rose baby, talk to me.”

A voice came from far away, floating on the edge of Rose’s consciousness.
It sounded like McQuade, but he sounded odd. Almost as though he were in pain.

“Come on
, baby. Open those beautiful green eyes for me.”

No one had ever told her she
had beautiful eyes. They were green, but so dark most people thought they were brown. She struggled to open her eyes and tried to sit up.

“Take it easy,” the
deep voice murmured. “I’ve got you.”

S
he was cradled against a hard chest, wrapped up safely in a set of strong arms. She felt no fear. She knew her rescuer—intimately. McQuade. She’d known somehow that he would find her. As she’d run from the shifter, she’d silently called to him. Her head lolled against his strong shoulder, her world spinning on its axis. The dizziness was so bad she couldn’t open her eyes. Pressing her forehead into his neck, she squeezed them together tightly. She’d try the opening thing again in a minute.

“Does she need to go to the hospital?” Another voice spoke in the darkness.
Briggs. That meant McQuade had either called his friend or they’d been on their way somewhere. She would bet the necklace Alice wanted so badly he hadn’t been on his way to see her.

Rose fought the fuzzine
ss threatening to overwhelm her again as she struggled to answer Briggs’ question. “No she doesn’t.” She licked her dry lips. “But she would like a drink of water.”

Keeping her
eyes closed, she slowly took inventory of her person, letting out a deep breath of relief when she realized she wasn’t badly hurt. The only really painful thing was the lump on the back of her head where she’d hit the sidewalk as she’d fallen. It had given her a killer headache though. As a nurse, she realized she might have a mild concussion. But she’d never tell McQuade.

When she
finally opened her eyes it was to see the square set of McQuade’s jaw covered in more than a five o’clock shadow. Did wolves have to shave more than once a day?

“H
ere’s some water.” Briggs seemed to wave a water bottle in front of her face and she squinted, everything still slightly out of focus. It didn’t stop her from seeing the concerned frown Briggs wore as he passed the bottle to McQuade.

He didn’
t hand it to her, but put it to her lips. “Drink, sweetheart.”

She
opened her mouth and took several small sips before pushing his hand away. After a moment her nausea settled and the world righted itself. “I’m okay.”

“
Good.” McQuade’s voice was gruff. “Now do you mind telling me what the freaking hell happened here?”

She
winced at the anger in his words. Indicating she wanted to stand, he helped her to her feet. She pulled away from his warm touch as soon as possible. “I would if I could.”

There was no way she was going to tell him she’d been running
for her life. Running away from the lion who had accosted her in the bar and in the hospital. Oh yeah, she hadn’t told him about that either.

“Rosie?
”

Rose
turned to Briggs, warmed by the note of concern in the other man’s voice. He was completely in focus now–lean, tanned, good looking, and shirtless. And he did absolute nothing for Rose. Which was a damn shame. He’d be the perfect rebound man.

“
Rose.” McQuade’s voice, tinged in impatience and command, demanded her attention as well.

“McQuade,” she softly
answered back, smiling at his disgruntled expression. She lifted her hand and brushed her fingertips across his jaw, loving the feel of the rough stubble. His eyes roamed over her face as if trying to discover all her secrets. The only secret she wanted to keep from him was the way he made her tingle and ache with need.

Oh, and the
fact that the lion shifter was stalking her.

She rubbed the back of her neck as if she could wipe away the sensation she’d felt of the lion’s hot breath as he’d gotten closer and closer. He’d appeared
out of nowhere, grabbing her as soon as she’d gotten out of her car. Struggling, she’d broken free of his hold and started to run. Now that she thought about it, there was no way she should have been able to break his hold. He’d been playing with her. Again.

She shuddered thinking what would have happened if McQuade hadn’t arrived when he did. Before she’d passed out, she’d heard the roar of a motorcycle and her last conscious though
t had been McQuade had come to save her. Again.

“I need to get you inside. But then y
ou’re going to tell me what the hell happened,” McQuade growled. She heard both the man and the animal. Before she could object, he lifted her, settling her against his broad chest despite her protests. She’d never been carried by a man before McQuade had come into her life—she’d never met one who could lift her. Yet she knew the delightful feelings she was experiencing weren’t because she was being carried—it was because of who was carrying her.

All too soon they were in her apartment and McQuade w
as sitting down on her couch, keeping her in his lap, tucked against his chest. She rubbed her cheek against the soft cotton of his shirt, inhaling the scent that was uniquely McQuade. The scent that made her heart flutter and her pussy weep with longing.

“Now give.”

“I’d tell him now rather than later, sweetheart. He has a tendency to get really pissed when people withhold important information.”

Rose turned her head
toward Briggs and grimaced. She felt awful. All she wanted to do was take a hot bath and go to bed. “I tripped on the sidewalk.”

McQuade growled softly and she felt his chest vibrate.
“We know that much Rose, that’s where we found you. What we don’t know was why you tripped.”

She picked at a loose thread on her top
. “Because I’m…,” she shrugged one shoulder, striving for a nonchalance she was far from feeing, “clumsy?”

Now the growl was loud, drawing her eyes upward.

“I might believe that if I didn’t smell a fucking lion all over you.”

His arms tightened around her until she protested.
“Okay, okay. I may have been running.”

“
A damn lion was chasing you?” The roar from McQuade would have given any shifter—lion or otherwise—pause. In this mood, Rose was sure no one would want to cross the powerful wolf.

“
I’ll see if there’s still a scent I can follow,” Briggs said, stripping off his jeans as he spoke.

Rose yelped in surprise and
ground her face into McQuade’s shoulder. “What is he doing?”

McQuade
snorted and gave a surprised laugh despite the seriousness of the situation. His hand came up to stroke the back of her head, the laughter morphing into a very volatile curse when he felt the fist-sized knot already forming. “If you’re going to be around shifters, baby, you need to get used to seeing them naked.”

Her heart thudded at his words. She really wanted
to ask him what he meant. He’d been pretty plain when he left the last time–after their night together –about not wanting to see her again. Had he changed his mind? Rose waited a few more minutes before lifting her head. “Is he gone?”

“Yes.”

Rose had never
heard
silence before, but she did now. McQuade still held her. She should probably move, but she really didn’t want to. She’d made the most incredible love with this man and now he was holding her as if he’d never let her go. But she knew sooner or later, he would. She’d add these few precious moments to her storehouse of memories.

“Do you want some aspirin or something?” McQuade’s deep voice rumbled against her ear.

She did, but she wasn’t about to give up her seat in his lap. He was so warm and strong. And she really needed to be held. She could get aspirin for herself later.

“Not right now. I’m still a little queasy.”

“Okay, sweetheart.” He leaned back against the cushion, settling her more comfortably against him. “Just take some deep breaths.”

Deep breaths? Could
he tell she was about to hyperventilate because she was so close to him?

“Coming in!” Briggs yelled from the stairway
and Rose buried her head in McQuade’s throat again causing both men to chuckle. His skin was so warm and he smelled so good. She wanted to stay like this forever.

“There were two of them. They headed east where they had a car waiting. I lost the scent in traffic.
”

She reluctantly pulled her head from McQuade’s neck. Briggs had on his jeans and was pulling on his shirt.
He continued to speak as he dressed.

“Damn.”

Rose seconded that. Shifters didn’t need a car in order to get away. If they’d brought one with them, that meant their intention had been to take her. They couldn’t very well have carried her on their backs in lion form.

“What do you need?”
McQuade’s face held a hard edge as he looked down at her.

You. Forever.

“Umm, nothing. I’ll take some aspirin and go to bed. I’ll be fine in the morning.” She pushed on his chest, trying to gain her feet. He’d done his duty, seen to her safety. She’d never tell him she was afraid to stay here by herself.

McQuade didn’t allow her to move away. In fact, his hold tightened, pressing her curves into his hard contours in a wonderfully delicious manner.

“Go pack Rose a bag, Briggs.
”

That got her attention. “What?”

“You’re coming home with me.”

“No I’m not.” Again, she tried to push away.

“Yes, you are.”

Rose heard a laugh then the sound of footsteps as Briggs did his partner’s b
iding. Oh, my God, the second hottest wolf she’d ever met was pawing through her clothing. Her underthings.

“No, wait. Don’t do that.”

Both men ignored her and soon the other man was back in the living room. In his hand was a small tote with clothing sticking out from the top. A ladies maid the big man was not.

The two men exchanged a look that made Rose cringe. No doubt, Briggs was
somehow conveying the fact Rose’s wardrobe was very limited. She was actually surprised he’d found enough to fill the tote. Most of her clothing was scrubs she wore to work. The jeans and green sweater she’d worn the day they’d ate the diner were her best pieces of clothing.