Read Online Heart of the wolf by Lindsay McKenna - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Lindsay McKenna
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survive—just as he had done.
Hope sprang in his heart, new and fragile. Sarah was untamed, and that excited him. He'd seen too many women beaten down, submissive beneath men's needs and society's expectations. Somehow, Sarah had not conformed in the way most women did.
His mouth was set in a grim line as he turned down the street that would lead him to the house. The price Sarah had paid thus far for not bowing under pressure had been heavy. Did the other townspeople feel as Noonan did about her? If so, Sarah had been an outcast all her life, and the thought tore at Wolf's emotions.
Then, at the thought of seeing her, his heart began to beat a little harder in his chest. The feeling was delicious, and he savored it like a man starved too long for emotional sustenance. How long had it been since he'd felt these gentle tendrils take root to remind him of a less harsh and demanding world? He frowned. Could he afford to let himself get close?
Sarah heard the key in the lock and sat up tensely on the overstuffed couch. Her swollen feet rested on an upholstered stool. It was 6:00 p.m.—and Wolf had said he'd be home later. Was it him, or one of Summers's henchmen? Her breath caught as the door opened and Wolf entered, his height and build making the doorway look small in comparison. The instant his gaze met hers, she saw an incredible change come over his face. The thin line of his mouth softened perceptibly. The fatigue in his gray eyes lifted, replaced by something warm that made her feel welcome in his home. Relaxation replaced harshness. She gave him a nervous half smile of welcome.
"See? I'm being a good patient," she offered. "My feet are up where you told me to keep them."
Wolf grinned as he closed the door and ambled into the small living room. The couch was a boring beige, but he'd thrown a quilt made by his grandmother across the back of it. The colors woven into it were red, blue, yellow and black, to denote the major directions as seen by the Cherokee. It made the room come alive with vibrancy.
"Why do I get the feeling that you hobbled over and put your feet up two minutes before I arrived?"
Sarah's uneasiness increased. "Are you psychic or something?" she croaked.
Wolf placed his keys on the cherrywood desk and dropped his hat on top of them. "I've been accused of being that from time to time."
"You're downright scary."
"So I'm right?" he asked, coming over and halting beside her. Sarah's hair was plaited in two long braids, and the style suited her. Her cheeks, once waxen, were flushed, and she fiddled nervously with her fingers in her lap. Disappointment flowed through Wolf. Sarah still didn't trust him.
"I can't lie," she said softly. "Yes, I was hobbling around here a couple of minutes before you pulled up."
"So why bother to look like you'd been following my orders?" he teased, starting to grin.
His melting smile seemed to embrace Sarah, and she suddenly felt beautiful beneath his searching, hooded gaze. Wolf was making her hotly aware for the first time in her life, that she was a woman. She saw the interest in his eyes—and the discovery as exciting as it was scary. Sarah had no experience with a man like Wolf. "I guess I didn't want to disappoint you." And then, disgusted by the admission, she muttered defensively, "I don't know."
"Well," Wolf told her, "I appreciate it. I was worrying all day you'd be resting and bored out of your mind."
"I wasn't that good."
Wolf lifted his chin and looked around. He noticed that small things, such as the vase full of wildflowers, had been moved slightly. "You dusted."
Sarah wrinkled her nose. "I can't stand a dirty house." Then she quickly amended herself. "I just picked up here and there, tried a little vacuuming, that was all. Your house really isn't dirty."
"Just messy," Wolf agreed. He tilted his head when he saw the wariness come back in her eyes. " What's that look for?"
"Aren't you going to chew me out for doing all that walking around?"
"Why
Hope sprang in his heart, new and fragile. Sarah was untamed, and that excited him. He'd seen too many women beaten down, submissive beneath men's needs and society's expectations. Somehow, Sarah had not conformed in the way most women did.
His mouth was set in a grim line as he turned down the street that would lead him to the house. The price Sarah had paid thus far for not bowing under pressure had been heavy. Did the other townspeople feel as Noonan did about her? If so, Sarah had been an outcast all her life, and the thought tore at Wolf's emotions.
Then, at the thought of seeing her, his heart began to beat a little harder in his chest. The feeling was delicious, and he savored it like a man starved too long for emotional sustenance. How long had it been since he'd felt these gentle tendrils take root to remind him of a less harsh and demanding world? He frowned. Could he afford to let himself get close?
Sarah heard the key in the lock and sat up tensely on the overstuffed couch. Her swollen feet rested on an upholstered stool. It was 6:00 p.m.—and Wolf had said he'd be home later. Was it him, or one of Summers's henchmen? Her breath caught as the door opened and Wolf entered, his height and build making the doorway look small in comparison. The instant his gaze met hers, she saw an incredible change come over his face. The thin line of his mouth softened perceptibly. The fatigue in his gray eyes lifted, replaced by something warm that made her feel welcome in his home. Relaxation replaced harshness. She gave him a nervous half smile of welcome.
"See? I'm being a good patient," she offered. "My feet are up where you told me to keep them."
Wolf grinned as he closed the door and ambled into the small living room. The couch was a boring beige, but he'd thrown a quilt made by his grandmother across the back of it. The colors woven into it were red, blue, yellow and black, to denote the major directions as seen by the Cherokee. It made the room come alive with vibrancy.
"Why do I get the feeling that you hobbled over and put your feet up two minutes before I arrived?"
Sarah's uneasiness increased. "Are you psychic or something?" she croaked.
Wolf placed his keys on the cherrywood desk and dropped his hat on top of them. "I've been accused of being that from time to time."
"You're downright scary."
"So I'm right?" he asked, coming over and halting beside her. Sarah's hair was plaited in two long braids, and the style suited her. Her cheeks, once waxen, were flushed, and she fiddled nervously with her fingers in her lap. Disappointment flowed through Wolf. Sarah still didn't trust him.
"I can't lie," she said softly. "Yes, I was hobbling around here a couple of minutes before you pulled up."
"So why bother to look like you'd been following my orders?" he teased, starting to grin.
His melting smile seemed to embrace Sarah, and she suddenly felt beautiful beneath his searching, hooded gaze. Wolf was making her hotly aware for the first time in her life, that she was a woman. She saw the interest in his eyes—and the discovery as exciting as it was scary. Sarah had no experience with a man like Wolf. "I guess I didn't want to disappoint you." And then, disgusted by the admission, she muttered defensively, "I don't know."
"Well," Wolf told her, "I appreciate it. I was worrying all day you'd be resting and bored out of your mind."
"I wasn't that good."
Wolf lifted his chin and looked around. He noticed that small things, such as the vase full of wildflowers, had been moved slightly. "You dusted."
Sarah wrinkled her nose. "I can't stand a dirty house." Then she quickly amended herself. "I just picked up here and there, tried a little vacuuming, that was all. Your house really isn't dirty."
"Just messy," Wolf agreed. He tilted his head when he saw the wariness come back in her eyes. " What's that look for?"
"Aren't you going to chew me out for doing all that walking around?"
"Why
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