Snowdonia 1 - Wolf at the Door (4 page)

Jake disposed of the dressing in the kitchen bin and then opened the door. It didn’t matter that he was naked; his body temperature ran hotter than humans and there was nobody outside to see him when he went for the logs. To his alarm, the previously heavy snow had developed into near blizzard conditions. Thank Christ he’d made it here. He needed to contact his Pack to let them know where he was.

His Mate was still asleep, so he tried the house phone.
Dead
. The snow must have brought down the lines. She would have a cell phone somewhere. He’d try to use it later when she showered.

Shifting back to wolf form, he curled up on the bed next to her, his muzzle resting on her shoulder. He could smell the shampoo she used and feel the softness of her hair brushing against his whiskers. He could smell something else … alcohol?

Taking care not to wake her, he sniffed her mouth.
Whiskey
. The bottle of Jack Daniels next to her bed made him frown. No glass? His Mate was a lush? She smelled healthy enough. If she was an alcoholic, he’d be able to sense it. Maybe she’d just had a bad day?

He pressed closer to her body and tried to share his warmth.

* * * *

Lillian lay in bed with her eyes closed. The heavy silence felt oppressive. No traffic noises, voices, sirens, or trilling phones. Instead, just faint birdsong in the far distance. She felt delightfully warm and comfortable, and strangely relaxed. Her dreams had been weird though. First there had been Jake …
God
. Her entire body tingled at the memory of what they’d done. After that, her dreams had been tame, just memories of her day all mixed up.

She sifted through what she remembered of them and caught snatches: her car skidding in the snow when she tried to avoid hitting the dog; talking to her agent about album sales, the pain when she confronted Kurt in the hotel room, and the shame when he admitted that he was still married.

A heavy sigh somewhere near her head sent a warm breath across the back of her neck and she froze. For one heart-stopping second she thought there was someone in bed with her and then she recalled the dog. Relief washed through her. She rolled over to look at him and found him staring intently at her. Those sapphire eyes were strangely familiar. “Hello, doggy,” she murmured, snaking out a hand to ruffle his fur. “How are you this morning?” It had to be her imagination, but he seemed to roll his eyes at her words. He grunted and then inched closer to rest his head on her chest, that intense look focused on her face.

How long had it been since Lillian simply stayed late in bed? She wiggled her toes and luxuriated in the furry blanket that had settled across her. The dog sighed when she rippled her fingers through the soft, downy fur behind his ears. “What am I going to do with you, eh?” Another snippet of her dreams flashed into her head.
Jake
. When she’d been talking to her agent, Jake had been there in the background, watching. In the hotel, while Kurt had been smashing her heart into a million pieces, Jake had been there, too. She shook her head and scrubbed both hands across her face. Maybe it was time to make another appointment with her therapist. Not content with dreaming up the most incredible lover ever, she was now obsessing about him.
Get a grip, Lillian
.

Chapter 11

As soon as Lillian closed the bathroom door Jake sat up, ready to search for her cell phone. Still as a wolf, he slunk around the bed to the overstuffed tote bag where he thought she’d dropped it. He paused and listened. All was quiet. The toilet flushed and he heard her bustling round, and then the noise of water running. It didn’t sound like the shower—was she running a bath? That would give him longer. Over the splashing he could hear her singing, and he listened, enthralled. Her voice was delightful.

Jake stuck his nose into the bag and saw the phone instantly. He took it in his mouth and lifted it, slow and easy. There was a fraction of a second when he thought it would snag on her keys, but it slipped free and he had it. His heart sank when he looked at the screen.
No signal.
Damn snowfall.

He replaced her phone and then on silent paws crept into the lounge. He shifted and took the opportunity to examine the wound on his leg. While it had stopped bleeding, it wouldn’t take much to open it up again, and running back to the Pack today was out of the question. He prowled around, unable to settle. What was with those dreams of hers? He could feel her tension and wanted to comfort her. He wanted to fuck her too, but that would also have to wait. He poked at the unlit fire, his mind miles away. How soon could he get hold of some clothes and come to her as Jake? Explaining the whole
by the way I’m a wolf and you’re my Mate
would be something else entirely.

Her muffled singing continued. Man, he was frustrated. His attention was caught by the newspaper on top of the basket.

HAVE A HART—KURT ANDERSON’S LATEST FLOP

That’s a picture of Lillian.

Jake skimmed the story—the front page of this particular tabloid—and stopped, utterly confused. This was his Mate. His Mate had been having an affair with a movie star? She’d mentioned Kurt. She meant Kurt
Anderson
? Even Jake, practically a recluse by Pack standards had heard of
him
. He thought back to the fragment of dream he’d seen and realized he’d been paying no attention to the guy she’d been talking to.
Well, duh
. Jake had seen how upset she’d been and felt a wave of fury at how the tabloids were distorting the story.

The singing had stopped. The bathroom door opened and Jake shifted back, seconds before she walked into the lounge.

*

Lillian couldn’t believe how late it was. She tugged the belt of her robe a little tighter and dragged her wet hair back into a loose ponytail. She needed coffee. The dog would need to go out before he peed on the floor and then … she blinked. No plans. The day stretched ahead, empty and silent. She’d run away in such a hurry that she hadn’t even brought a guitar. The realization that once she let the dog outside, he would probably leave hit her. She’d enjoyed his company and with a pang she knew she’d miss him.

The dog moved to sit at her feet, gazing up at her with his strange blue eyes. Eyes the same color as Jake in her dreams. “I guess you need to go out, eh?” She dropped to her knees and hugged him, burying her face in the thick fur of his neck. “You kept me lovely and warm, thank you. I hope you find your way home okay.” He whined softly, and she released him.

“Come on then.” She stood and moved toward the tiny hallway, the dog at her heels. She could feel the cold before she even opened the door, and she gasped when she saw how much snow had fallen during the night. Flakes whirled and danced before her and her bare feet were chilled already.

She nudged at the dog. “Go on, boy, don’t you need to go out?” He slunk down the path, disappearing from view after just a few steps. Snowflakes clung to her eyelashes and Lillian scrubbed a hand over her face. Should she keep the door open for him? Would he leave?
Damn
. She hadn’t checked his bandage. She was just about to close the door again when he burst out of the gloom and ran back into the house, a trail of wet paw prints in his wake. Feeling absurdly pleased, she hurried after him and found him sitting in front of the fireplace, a strangely expectant look on his face.

She reached down to fondle his ears. They felt cold and damp and she wiped her fingers against her robe before stuffing her hands in her pockets. “I feel stupid, calling you Doggy all the time.” His eyes reminded her of the man in her dreams, but it would be crazy to call him Jake. “I’m going to call you Wolfie. You look like a wolf.” When she checked, his bandage had disappeared, but perhaps he’d pulled it off with his teeth. The wound was healing nicely and didn’t look as though it needed another dressing. She giggled at the way he seemed to grin back at her, blue eyes twinkling. “I just wish there was some heat. I’m going to freeze.”

The dog whined and flopped to the floor in front of the fireplace—a fireplace now stacked and ready to light. There was even a box of matches waiting on the mantelpiece. She rubbed her eyes in disbelief. It hadn’t been like that earlier.

Fear trickled down her spine and she hugged the robe tighter.
Someone had been in here,
while she bathed or … she swallowed … while she slept. Someone had laid the fire and … and … she spun around but could see nothing else out of place. Her bags hadn’t been touched; she would have noticed when she rummaged through them earlier.

The answer was so simple she felt like slapping her forehead. The booking details had stated clearly that there would be a housekeeper available, as required. Not a crazed fan, after all. She smiled, relief warming her chest.

Within minutes, a cheerful blaze roared, pushing out waves of heat. Jake sprawled some distance away, while Lillian sat and stared into the flames. Perhaps there had been more food delivered too? Alas, no. The refrigerator still held a ridiculous amount of meat-based products. She chopped up another steak for the dog and then made herself a small omelet.

“Looks like we’re snowed in, Wolfie.”

Chapter 12

Lillian found something immensely comforting and indulgent about spending the afternoon sprawled in front of the fire, Wolfie lying close enough to stroke whenever she felt like it. He must have been melting with that thick, shaggy coat, but he kept close to her all day. She skimmed through a couple of glossy magazines she’d brought with her and then, bored, examined the stack of tourist brochures that sat on the table.

She’d been to Wales as a small child, to a seaside village, all rocky cliffs and shallow pools full of crabs and tiny fish. She had fond memories of splashing in the sea and eating ice cream that dripped down her sandy arms. Happy days.

This part of Wales was new to her, though. Wild and remote, it couldn’t be more different to the bustling resort of her childhood. Driving here in the darkness, she’d only caught glimpses of the towering mountains and everything had been covered in snow. The pictures in the brochures were magnificent. Pine forests, waterfalls, and icy streams filled the pages, with an abundance of natural wildlife that thrived in those lush environments.

The local legends were colorful too. Everything from the fabled King Arthur and his wizard Merlin, to the red dragon that now symbolized Wales, and even stories of a Welsh werewolf. She ended up with her notepad and pen, scribbling lyrics. If nothing else, this quiet cottage had served to unblock her creative muse, and the words tumbled out of her almost faster than she could write them down.

The flickering of the flames was hypnotic and she felt her eyelids grow heavy. She leaned back against the pile of cushions and let herself drift. When she opened her eyes again, it seemed entirely normal to see her dream lover, Jake standing before her and smiling at her.

“Hello,
Cariad
.” His words caressed her, his greeting making her feel warm inside and she couldn’t hold back her own smile.

“Hello, Jake. I wondered if I’d see you again.” Glancing around, they appeared to be standing in a wooded glade, sunshine filtering through a bright green canopy to make a dappled pattern on the ground. Soft, young grass and leaves formed a carpet, and she shuffled one foot back and forth, watching leaves slide across her sneaker. “Where are we this time?”

Their eyes met. Jake ran a lazy hand across his stubbled chin, making Lillian want to do the same. He wore scuffed black jeans and boots again, paired with a black T-shirt that clung to his chest. “
Cadair Idris
.” She recognized the mountain name from the tourist brochures. “This is one of my favorite places.” He shrugged, his attention locked on her. “I wanted you to see it.”

“Idris,” she repeated softly. “Wasn’t he a giant?”

Jake’s eyes crinkled in the corners. “He was said to have used the mountain as an enormous armchair to gaze at the stars.”

She licked her lips, her mouth suddenly dry. “Beautiful,” she whispered, unsure if she meant the man or the place. He stood close enough that if she stretched out her arm, she could touch him, stroke those delectable abs again. She wanted him and if that bulge in his jeans was anything to go by, he felt the same way.

*

Jake watched the color flushing across her cheeks and heard her take an unsteady breath.
Jesus
, she looked hot. Edible. Her legs were bare and golden, a faded denim miniskirt gracing her thighs and barely covering her ass, teamed with a soft, draped shirt open far enough to see the curve of her breasts. Was she wearing a bra? As he stared at her cleavage, her nipples stiffened to attention beneath the fabric. Well that answered his question. His dick strained against his zipper like a greyhound ready to chase the hare.

He took a step and closed the distance to just a few inches. He could hear the way her heart raced and knew he could wait no longer. Cupping both hands around her face, he tilted his head and brushed a gentle kiss over her lips. Her taste made all his senses sing out. She kissed him back, hard, and then nipped his lower lip. “I want to play,” she murmured, before soothing the sting with her tongue.

Excitement surged through his veins. Another strip tease perhaps? “Tell me.” He’d play, as long as he got inside her before his cock exploded.

His Mate eased back a fraction, a look of mischief clear on her pretty face. “Tag.” He didn’t understand. A grin flashed and she poked him in the chest with her index finger. “And you’re
it
.” Before he could process the words, she ducked and ran backward, wagging her fingers at him, her glee infectious. He paused and watched, enjoying the moment. “Gotta catch me if you want me.” With that taunt, she turned and darted into the woods.

He laughed aloud. He could catch her in a heartbeat, but she didn’t know that. Could she be any better suited to him? A she-wolf in human skin. Hunting came as naturally to him as breathing, but how long since he last played? Too long.

*