In disbelief, Darien stared at Doc. “You said she’d committed suicide, and Doc Featherston certified it. Besides, my uncle said the same thing. As sheriff, he investigated the matter and—”
“And came to the same conclusion. But. Darien, you’re pretty persuasive when you want to be, and you were so hell-bent on believing she’d committed suicide we went along with it.”
“For Odin’s sake, Doc, if the three of you believed it was murder, you would have said.”
“Well, yes, but—”
“Then don’t blame it on me!” Darien glanced at Silva to see her take on it.
Her dark brows raised a notch.
“Don’t tell me you had reservations, too.”
“I’m just the barmaid.” Silva threw her hands up in an exasperated gesture. “No one listens to anything I have to say.”
“Well?”
“Truthfully?”
He growled.
“Hell, Darien, truthfully, I don’t know. But something’s not right, now that her sister comes along and gets the whole town shot up.”
His mates twin sighed deeply. She blinked a couple of times, but didn’t focus on anything.
“She’s got to be here for three more days, then, eh, Doc?” Darien asked.
“In town, yes. She shouldn’t travel a great distance. But she can stay somewhere else for the next couple of days. Tonight, I want to keep an eye on her. She’ll need someone to look after her once she leaves here.”
“You’re the boss, boss,” Sllva said, “but Sam can do without me a couple of days. I’ll look after her. I’m just about the only female in town who liked Lelandi, so maybe I can do her sister a favor.”
“What if someone’s still aiming to get Larissa?” Doc asked.
Darien considered her groggy state. “Peter’s making sure she has around-the-clock protection.”
“Have Trevor do the inside surveillance, won’t you?” Silva winked.
Uncle Sheridan stormed into the room, looking like a stuck bull. “What In the Sam Hill is going on?” His voice boomed, though at six-four, everything about the man seemed overbearing and loud.
“You’re in my hospital now, Sheriff,” Doc said, “Keep your yelling down to a low roar.”
“You haven’t heard yelling. Doc. Gone two days of a ten-day vacation and what happens? Where were those two worthless deputies of mine?”
Silva cleared her throat, “Trevor was busy overseeing the clearing of a landslide on the highway, Sheriff. Don’t know what Peter was doing.”
“Peter was with us.” Jake said, walking into the room. He glanced at Larissa. “Should we be discussing this here?”
“She’s the cause of it, Ritka told me,” the sheriff countered, motioning at Larissa.
“She’d certainly say so.” Silva folded her arms and gave the sheriff a disgruntled look.
“Well, isn’t she? The woman started stirring up trouble at the tavern. Next thing you know, three people are shot. I want to know what the hell’s going on.”
“It’s your job to find out.” Darien didn’t bother to curb the acid in his voice.
Doc put Larissa’s chart back in the folder. “Got some other patients to see to. Need to speak to you when you can spare a moment, Darien.”
“My...” Larissa paused. “My sister... was... murdered,” she stammered, then shut her eyes.
Everyone stared at her in stunned silence.
Darien had figured that’s what Lelandi’s sister must have thought. “Since she doesn’t have any family here, I want you to sit with her for a couple of hours, Silva.”
“Sure, and miss out on the fun stuff.” Silva pulled a vinyl-covered chair next to the bed. “Have Trevor run by my place and pick up one of my novels, will ya? Give me something to do while I’m babysitting.”
“I’ll ask him.” Jake said.
The sheriff yanked off his Stetson and waved it at Jake. “Hold on here just a blamed minute. He works for me, and I’ve got an investigation to conduct.”
Darien raised his brows at his uncle.
The sheriff’s brown eyes darkened and narrowed. “WelI, hell, if it only takes a minute, I guess I can spare him.”
Jake added. “Tom’s asking to see you, Darien, and he wants to take a peek at Larissa to see for himself that she’s all right, but Doc says he has to stay put for the time being.”
“All right. Come on, Uncle Sheridan. We’ll fill you in on all we know, though it’s not much.” Darien ushered everyone out of the room.
Larissa looked small, pale, the spitting image of Lelandi, except for the hideous black hair, now that the contacts, glasses, earrings, and hat were gone. His heart lurched when her eyelids fluttered open, and she caught him gawking at her. He refused to get caught up in the bewitching enchantments of his dead mate’s twin.
She closed her eyes and released his gaze.
Crap, she was as much a lure as her sister. Best to keep distance between himself and the temptress.
He caught Silva’s smug smile, his body heated to boiling, and he turned on his heel and stalked out of the room.
Boots tromped down the hospital hall, then everything grew quiet. The medicine took hold, the tranquility drawing her into another world, and Lelandi’s heart lightened at the scene before her.
Mist filled her vision, and he came to her.
Naked. His bronzed body glistening in the brilliant light of the full moon. Proud, determined, his mission— to ravish her—again.
So what took him so long?
Tall with broad shoulders, his chest magnificently muscled, moving with the grace and ease of a wolf he stalked toward her. Whereas most of her kind were shorter and the ones in power, squatter, more bull-like, this man was Adonis reborn.
She still couldn’t see his face, doused in shadows, teasing her, making her strain to see his features. Her eyes shifted to his chest. Lower. To his erection. He was ready for her. Always ready, his sex jutting upward surrounded by sable curls.
She breathed in deeply, trying to smell his unique scent, wishing she could locate him in the real world upon waking, but her keen wolf senses couldn’t pick up his manly scent—not in a dream.
Reclining on the grass on her side, she watched him as he strode toward her, every hard muscle rippling with his gait. Yet, just the vision of him five months ago had been enough to bring her into her first wolf heat, way long overdue. How could a fantasy lover have brought that about?
She wanted to call out his name like a lover would her mate, but she couldn’t fathom what it was. The warm summer breeze stirred the Douglas firs, casting dancing moonlight across his body. His lips turned up slightly, bemused His mouth, his sturdy jaw line, his shoulder-length sable hair ruffled by the breeze. Show me more! She wanted to see his eyes, his nose, the rest of his face—but as much as she strained to see them, she couldn’t—the rest of his features remained hidden in the black void.
He towered over her, took in a deep breath, and tried to smell her. She saw the intake of his breath, knew what he was attempting to do. A queer feeling of unease washed over her. She squashed the unwelcome worry. He was not real. Just the most consummate lover a dream could conjure up.
He lay down beside her, and she ran her finger over his brow, finding it furrowed. For the first time since their union, he seemed contemplative, unrushed, as if he wanted more than the sex they shared.
Leaning over, he nuzzled her lips with his mouth, licking them, smiling. Positioning himself closer, he rested his head on his hand and appeared to study her. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words would never come. He touched her hair, ran his fingers through the strands, held them to his nose and took a deep breath.
Could he smell her scent when she couldn‘t sense his?
He traced her arm, down to her hip, his heated touch stirring a fire across her sensitive skin. She drew close, pressing her breasts against his chest, took his face in her hands, and moved her lips against his in a searing kiss. She swore she heard him growl this time, but then he glanced over his shoulder, as if something in the woods had distracted him. Danger?