“Just pretend I’m the doctor.”
Oh, god, yeah, playing doctor and patient. She gave him a dirty look while he attempted to hide a saucy smirk.
When she finished unbuttoning the shirt, she grumpily said, “It’s done.”
He rubbed his hands together like he was excited to get started, and she frowned at him.
“Getting my hands warmed up. They’re cold.” Gingerly, he peeled back her shirt, exposing her left breast and the bandaged wounds. “Tell me if anything is sore or hurts.” His demeanor was professional, well, maybe a little anxious.
She cringed, afraid it would hurt as much as it had before.
He pulled off the tape around the pads, and considered the wounds with considerable scrutiny. “How does it feel?”
“Itching, burning some.”
He nodded and dumped the used bandages in the wastepaper basket. He applied some salve on the bullet holes with such a light touch that it tickled. She couldn’t help smiling, although she fought it. No way did she want to show she wasn’t mad at him.
He caught her look and his mouth curved up. “Guess it’s not hurting.”
She pursed her lips. “Tickling.”
“Be done in a minute.” He situated the new pad over the wounds, brushing her already taut nipple with the edge of his hand, and taped the pad in place.
“It’s getting cold,” she said, tersely.
“Looks like you’re healing well. After Jake pulls guard duty, I’ll change it again.”
She pulled the shirt closed and began buttoning it.
“Maybe Silva will be up by then.”
“She’s a late sleeper. Used to staying up late at the bar. And Jake doesn’t have an ounce of doctoring sense. Tom will probably be asleep still, but even if he isn’t, he’d probably forget what he came in here to do. Doc said you might be getting edgy about not healing faster. He wanted you to know it’s because of the severity of the injuries. If you’d been human, you’d be dead. And if by some miracle you’d lived, Doc said it would take several months to heal. He said you might be feeling all right by the end of the week.”
She gave him a disparaging look. “I’ll be up and about tomorrow.”
Darien shook his head. “You’re not anything like your sister. Need anything? Something to eat?”
“No, thank you.” She closed her eyes, hoping he’d go away, but he took a seat in the recliner and leaned back, making it squeak.
She tried hearing what was being said downstairs, but the conversation was too low. She was too keyed up to sleep while Darien watched her. The image of his bandaging her, the way he looked at her, the feel of his hand against her nipple made her ache for his touch again. She ground her teeth, willing her mind to crush the thought so she could sleep.
Darien could tell from the way she licked her lips and swallowed hard, then ground her teeth, she wasn’t sleeping. He squirmed to get comfortable, his erection springing to life again, just from visualizing her naked supple body under the covers. He hadn’t expected to get an eyeful when she pulled her covers aside. The problem was he had to see for himself she was healing adequately. He didn’t just want Silva’s word for it. Not when he had to prove to Lelandi she was the one meant for him.
But being more than just a lupus garou with a raging hard-on, he was a pack leader that needed some damned answers if he was to take her for his mate.
“We found your bag.” Darien’s voice sounded harsher than he intended.
Lelandi’s eyes popped open.
He motioned to the tapestry bag sitting by the dresser. “It looked like you planned to stay for a while. That guy in the copper coat had taken it. Had his scent all over it, inside and out.”
Her eyes grew big.
“Which means the guy had broken into your room when Uncle Sheridan and I were trying to get in. What kind of a pack leader would allow two of his females to run off? First your sister, now you? At least now I know his name is Bruin. Or maybe that’s your cover. Maybe his name is really Leidolf.”
Her mouth gaped, but she quickly clamped it shut.
That got a response. Although he wasn’t sure what her response meant. “And your parents are alive.”
Darien wanted to send word to her pack concerning her whereabouts, and he wanted to set things straight with her sister’s mate—the honorable thing to do. Plus, this time he was getting the father’s permission to take the woman for his mate. But he still didn’t know who her pack leader really was, and he couldn’t be sure that her pack was innocent when it came to the harm done to either Lelandi or her sister.
He folded his arms and leaned back into the recliner. “Why don’t you tell me the truth now?”
Chapter 12
HOW IN THE WORLD HAD DARIEN LEARNED HER BROTHER’S name? Lelandi was dying to ask, but she couldn’t. Better to leave Darien confused about who her pack leader was. Did he know where Leidolf was living now? Maybe Silva would, if Lelandi could ask casually without arousing suspicion. Right.
Ignoring Darien, Lelandi pretended to sleep. More than ever, she had to avenge her sister’s murder and leave. The longer she stayed, the higher the risk Bruin would locate her. Probably Darien would want to contact the leader and tell him what happened to her sister and Lelandi. Sense of honor. Then Bruin would force her to return home.
After a couple of hours, Darien left the room and thank god, for a change, he didn’t post a guard inside. She climbed out of bed and paced. She had to discover if her parents were alive. But how was she going to do anything when he had her guarded always?
Footsteps raced up the stairs. “Are you staying with her for a couple of hours?” Trevor asked.
“Yeah. Darien went with Jake and Tom to question the hospital staff,” Sam said.
She slipped back into bed and pulled the covers to her chin.
Sam walked into the room, smiled at her, and shut the door. “Still awake?”
“Going to sleep.” At least she hoped so. After all the time she’d spent lying on her back, the urge to run in her wolf form made her restless and irritable. She wanted to stretch her legs and take a run on the wild side, soon.
Darien finally went to bed, but was too angry to sleep. Unable to learn anything about who drugged the coffee at the hospital, he racked his brain for alternative solutions. At nearly two in the morning, he had to get some sleep, but he couldn’t stop thinking of Lelandi. The way her nipple had firmed when his hand had brushed it. The way she barely breathed when he was removing the soiled bandages. The way she smiled when the salve tickled her skin, but tried to hide that she wasn’t scowling at him even for a second. He could have woken Silva to have her change the bandages, but he had to see for himself that Lelandi’s wounds were healing properly.
He shoved his arm underneath his head, his body craving the change. He wanted to take a run in the woods, the urge growing as the moon’s appearance neared. A jaunt through the forest, hunting alone or with a few members of his pack, racing each other, the wind ruffling their fur, enjoying nature at its best.
He closed his eyes. Unable to visualize anything but Lelandi’s gaze challenging him in his mind’s eye, he tossed his covers aside and grabbed his jeans. The woman tormented his every waking hour no matter how much he tried to ignore his cravings.
He stalked into the guest bedroom, not sure what he had in mind, but when he saw the empty bed, he gave Jake a questioning glance. His brother motioned to the bathroom. The toilet flushed and the sink water ran for a few seconds, then shut off. When she appeared, she looked like the redheaded goddess of his dreams. The startled look on her face when she saw him standing in the bedroom, gaping at her, endeared him all the more.
Jake wore an amused expression and shrugged.
“Leave us, Jake,” Darien said, without taking his eyes off her.
His brother cleared his throat and walked over to the door. “’Night all.” He closed the door on his hasty retreat.
His shoulders straight, his bare chest muscles taut, Darien crossed the carpeted floor and joined Lelandi standing like a statue. She couldn’t move from the spot, knowing he wanted her. She couldn’t draw on the courage to shove him away, to stop the yearning she had for him.
He cupped her face and raised her lips to his. The flecks of gold in his dark brown eyes disappeared as they darkened to black. He leaned in, his eyes closed, and he pressed his lips against hers. Lightly, like the flutter of an eyelash against a cheek. She’d never expected such a gentle touch to shatter her composure, but it did. His whisper-soft touch sent a message straight from her brain coursing to every part of her body. Take me, it shouted.
The only men she’d ever allowed to kiss her were her family members, in a strictly family way. Yet she lusted for Darien like she never had for any man except for her fantasy lover. She wanted to strip off her clothes and ravish him. Every inch of her warmed, and if she’d been wearing panties, they’d be soaking wet now, guaranteed.
No, no, this is wrong. His tongue probed her mouth with a murmur of a touch. No, she couldn’t let him in. If she did, she’d give herself to him completely. She couldn’t, not after what her sister had meant to him.
She opened her mouth to tell him no, her hands gripping his arms to push him away, but she gave him the wrong signal. His tongue parted her lips further, penetrating her deeper. He pressed his body firmly against her, his erection hard against her waist, her back against the wall. His heart pounded with a thunderous beat as fast as hers, lulling her under his spell with a soothing rhythm, encouraging her to take part in the mating dance. She should have shoved him away, stopped this nonsense, made him realize she didn’t want this. Not from him. Not from a gray. Her dead sister’s mate.
So why the hell was she touching his tongue tentatively with her own? Bringing a smile to his smug lips? To his heavily lidded, lust-filled eyes? He hesitated for an instant, then delved deeper, intensifying the kiss, and she let him! Kissed him back even. Pressed her body harder against his erection, wanting to feel what she had done to him.
