The kitchen yielded nothing of interest. No food or water bowls. No dirty dishes in the sink. Either the guy was neat or he ate out a lot.
With one last survey to make sure she hadn’t missed any telltale signs of a wolf in residence, she left the kitchen and started for his bedroom. He came walking out of it, pulling on a plain white T-shirt.
She appreciated his decision to put on more clothes. After all the times she’d ogled his naked body through her binoculars, she had difficulty ignoring the up-close-and-personal view. This visit was about wolf welfare, not her infatuation with Jake’s physique.
“I want to look in your bedroom.”
He stepped aside and swept an arm in that direction.
“Thank you.” Keeping her mind on her mission, she walked in. The bed, of course, was sinfully enormous. It was probably one of those super kings, which a man of his size needed.
A comforter in shades of green covered the thick mattress. He’d stacked four pillows against the rustic wooden headboard. An image of him sprawled naked on that magnificent bed popped into her rebellious brain and wouldn’t leave.
“Don’t care, don’t care, don’t care,” she muttered, hoping she could make it be true. Dropping to her knees, she peeked under the bed. Empty. Damn it! She’d wanted to catch him in the lie.
Pushing herself upright again, she turned to find him leaning in the doorway, watching her. “Did you let him out again? I sure hope not, because he’s wounded, or did you miss that little fact?”
“Sorry, but I haven’t seen a wolf around here, wounded or otherwise.”
She hated the way his direct gaze affected her, making her doubt what she’d seen with her own two eyes. “He’s big and black, with green eyes. He fought a grizzly last night, I’m pretty sure to save me, and the bear raked her claws down his side.”
“A wolf attacked a bear to save you? That sounds like something out of the tabloids. Are you sure that’s what happened?”
“Of course I’m sure! I kept him overnight because I was worried the wounds would get infected. But I let him out tonight, and he came around the lake and opened your slider. I saw him do it.”
“How could you possibly see such a thing?”
“I watched through my binoculars.”
His dark eyebrows lifted. “Are you in the habit of watching my place?”
Dear God, now she was blushing. She felt the heat in her cheeks and glanced away. “No, not really.” She wasn’t good at lying when she was face-to-face with someone. “But tonight I was worried about the wolf.”
“Now I’ll tell you what really happened.”
“Oh, because you know?” She retrieved her indignation and pulled it around her like a cloak. She didn’t have to wonder where he got that bruise on his nose. Somebody had probably punched him for being so damned arrogant.
“The explanation is pretty obvious. You became very attached to this wolf, which supposedly saved you.”
“Yes, I did, and it absolutely saved me!”
“Whatever. Anyway, after you let him go, he headed into the hills, like any self-respecting wolf would do. But you desperately wanted to see him again, so when a cloud overhead created a shadow on my deck, you convinced yourself the wolf was here in my house.”
“That’s not right.” But the wolf was no longer in his house, so she’d have a hard time contradicting his story. She’d told Lionel to go home, so she was the only one who’d watched the wolf go through the slider. And she was famous in Polecat for her active imagination.
“You can continue to think what you like.” He pushed himself away from the doorframe. “But if you’ll excuse me, I have things to do.”
“Why did you give Ted that carving?”
He looked straight at her. “Got tired of it.”
Ouch. Well, she’d asked him after all. She couldn’t complain if she didn’t like the answer. “You could have sold it for a lot of money.”
“Didn’t want the hassle. Are we done here?”
“Yes.” She’d taken about all the insults she could handle for one evening. “We’re so done.”
“Good.” He walked into the living room and opened the front door.
She couldn’t get through it fast enough.
“Have a nice night,” he called after her.
Spinning around, she let go with a parting shot. “I know you’re connected to that wolf, and somehow I’m going to prove it.”
“No, you’re not. Good-bye, Rachel.” He closed the door.
She wanted to yell in frustration. But that wouldn’t accomplish anything and might startle any wild creatures nearby, including, perhaps, the wolf in question. Climbing into her truck, she pulled onto the two-lane road. Instead of going back the way she’d come, she drove slowly the other way and peered into the woods.
“Are you out there, wolf?” She tried to tune in to his mind, but all she got was static. After being the most real thing in her life for twenty-four hours, he seemed to have totally disappeared.
Chapter 8
On his flight to San Francisco two days later, Jake vowed to put the incident with Rachel behind him. Talking about it might have helped, but he couldn’t confide in any of his Were friends. He’d built a reputation as a crusader against Were-human mating, so how could he admit that a human had tempted him so much he’d almost blown his cover?
Besides, it wouldn’t happen again. This trip away from Polecat and Rachel would allow him to refocus. Meeting with Giselle Landry, who shared his objections to Were-human mating, would help, too.
His plane touched down a few minutes past eight in the evening. As it taxied toward the gate, he called Giselle, even though their appointment wasn’t until the next morning. “Is it too late to meet for a drink?” He hoped not. He’d been alone with his thoughts far too much in the past forty-eight hours, and he needed to get his mind off his problems.
“It’s not too late.” She sounded frazzled. “But I should warn you I’m not good company right now.”
“Hey, if you’d rather not, that’s okay.” He tamped down his disappointment. “I’ll be at your office at ten tomorrow and we can talk then.”
“Actually, the idea of relaxing over a glass of vino sounds wonderful. I just can’t promise I won’t start whining.”
“You can whine all you want, Giselle. I’ll catch a cab to the Fairmont and meet you in the bar.”
“Meet me in the lobby instead, okay? I know a great little Were-owned place down by Fisherman’s Wharf.”
“Perfect.” Jake’s spirits lifted. Listening to Giselle’s troubles, whatever they might be, would take his mind off his own. He also looked forward to a night surrounded by his own kind. His preference for being a lone wolf had its drawbacks and probably made him more vulnerable to temptation of the Rachel variety.
“Okay,” Giselle said. “See you in about an hour.”
“If you’ll tell me what you’re driving, I can wait outside for you.”
“A Harley.”
He laughed. “Excellent.” Riding behind Giselle while she navigated San Francisco’s hills on her motorcycle sounded like exactly what he needed. “See you soon.” As he disconnected, he once again wondered if someday Giselle could be more than a friend. He made a promise to himself to keep his mind open to the possibility.
An hour later, he stood outside the Fairmont as the fog rolled in. Great night for a couple of werewolves. He scanned the area for a motorcycle, and here she came, materializing out of the mist. She’d gone with all black—jacket, pants, boots, and bike. He wouldn’t have known for sure it was her until he noticed a stray lock of dark red hair that had escaped from under her black helmet.