The Keeping (25 page)

After finding a
suitable pair of shorts, she snugged them around her waist as best
she could. They were still a bit big and rode low on her hips, but
with the t-shirt hanging halfway down her thighs, it wasn’t
noticeable. Ryne came out of the bathroom just as she was pushing
the drawers shut. He had a towel slung around his hips and little
drops of water clung to his chest. Mel felt her knees go weak.

“Making yourself
at home, I see.” His blue eyes twinkled as he grinned at her.

Nervously, she
pushed her hair from her face. “Umm...yeah. I hope you don’t mind,
but I needed—”

“No problem. Help
yourself.” He casually brushed past her, pulled open a drawer, and
took out some underwear.

Realizing he was
going to get dressed in front of her, Mel turned her back just as
he pulled the towel off. It landed lightly on the bed beside her
and she gave a little start.

“Still shy after
all we’ve shared?”

“Yes!” Mel heard
her voice crack and winced. She cleared her throat and gathered her
courage to speak. She wasn’t sure of the proper protocol for this
type of a situation. “Um, about this morning...”

Ryne placed his
hands on her shoulders and turned her around. Mel gave a surprised
squeak and scrunched her eyes shut. He gave a quick bark of
laughter. “You can open your eyes. I’m dressed.” He waited
patiently until she complied. She stared up into his handsome face.
His blue eyes were intense yet there was a shadow to them as well.
What was it? Caution? Regret? Unable to interpret it, she focused
on his words instead.

“Melody, this
morning was fun. It was great sex and maybe we can do it again, but
that’s all it was, okay? Now I’m going to get the guys and move
that tree from the driveway. Feel free to use the shower—I set a
towel out for you—and look for something to eat in the kitchen.
We’ll probably be back in about an hour if all goes well.”

With that, he
kissed her forehead and left.

She watched him
leave, her mouth hanging open, only one thought in her head.

Jerk!

*****

Mel stood in the
entertainment room, staring out the window. She’d showered, found
her bra and jeans, and dressed, though she still felt strange not
wearing panties. Every step she took had the crotch seam rubbing
against her sensitive core—definitely not comfortable. Nor was it
comfortable thinking about Ryne and how they’d parted. He’d
basically blown the whole incident off and she wasn’t sure how she
felt about that.

Her first instinct
had been to be angry at him, but then her more practical side had
intervened. They didn’t have a relationship, so she had no right to
any sort of anger or hurt. The thought that he was actually
interested in her had briefly flashed through her mind, but his
words upon leaving the shower had squashed that idea. It had just
been sex; fulfilling a need they both felt at that moment. Even if
it wasn’t the sort of thing she usually did, it obviously was for
him. Remaining casual about what happened would be the best course
of action. Yes, the sex was good, but now it was time to focus on
the real reason she was seeking him out, the interview for Greyson
and the money it would bring her.

After finding the
makings for some toast in the kitchen, she poured herself a cup of
coffee and wandered around the house trying to fill her time. She
checked out the view from various windows, found it unremarkable,
and then decided to investigate the book shelves. Books could tell
a lot about a person, she mused as she began to scan the titles.
Horrors, mysteries, war stories, ancient history... Which ones were
Ryne’s and which ones belonged to the other two?

She pulled out
several old leather bound books, their titles barely readable due
to age, and sat down to look through them. One was entitled
Mythology and Cryptozoology, while another was on Lycanthropy. In
the second book, the sections dealing with werewolves were the most
worn and someone had made notes in the margins, underlining certain
passages. The penmanship was bold, written in black ink, and she
wondered if it could be Ryne’s, though the topic didn’t seem like
one he’d pursue.

Studying the
comments, she chuckled. Words such as ‘idiots’ and ‘as if’ were
written near some of the illustrations of werewolves. “Almost got
it right’ was penned near a passage about the effects of the full
moon and the word ‘allergic but not deadly’ was beside a bit about
silver bullets. It almost appeared as if the owner of the book took
the topic seriously. She raised her eyebrows at the thought of any
intelligent person believing such stuff. Get a life, she muttered.
Still, it was interesting that people would devote so much time to
create such a realistic myth. Having nothing better to do, she
started to read.

It proved to be
quite fascinating and she was surprised to hear the sound of voices
approaching the house. Mel shoved the books back on the shelf and
grabbed her coffee cup. Intent on heading to the door to check on
their progress, she took a sip from her cup and grimaced. It was
cold. Changing direction, she went towards the kitchen instead. The
guys could let themselves in. She needed fresh coffee.

*****

Ryne entered the
house and ran his hands through his windswept hair. Typical spring.
After an unseasonably warm two weeks, last night’s storm had blown
in a cold front. A northerly wind whipped over the land causing the
tree branches to sway and the remains of last year’s leaves—still
wet from the rain—to blow about, their damp, clammy surface hitting
against his legs and face more than once.

Removing the tree
hadn’t been very hard work; still he was glad to get back inside.
Cold weather didn’t bother him, but he hated the wind. It swirled a
myriad of scents around him, confusing him as to the direction of
their source. Sound distorted as well and the bits of debris flying
by made him over-alert to the movement around him. Yes, all in all,
windy days made him feel as if he was losing touch with some of his
senses and he didn’t like the experience at all. It made him jumpy
and irritable.

Now that he was
inside, he could relax again—well almost. He sniffed the air
catching the scent of fresh coffee and Melody. When last he’d seen
her, she’d still been flushed and smelling of sex. His inner wolf
rumbled approval at the idea. He’d had more beautiful and more
experienced women, but the sex this morning with Melody had
been...different. There was something about her that appealed to
him.

Unfortunately,
therein lay the danger. The last thing he should be doing was
getting involved with a nosey journalist. He needed to keep a clear
head around her; watching what he said, analyzing her questions for
any hint that she knew what he really was. One slip on his part, or
by Bryan or Daniel, and their cover would be blown. If that
happened, he knew what he had to do, and being involved with the
girl would just make the task all the harder.

This
morning—having sex with her—had definitely been a mistake on his
part. It hadn’t been planned, but when she’d frowned at him...
Well, he wasn’t used to having women frowning while in his bed, let
alone in his arms. It was supposed to be just a bit of teasing; a
few kisses and caresses—but once he’d started, he hadn’t wanted to
stop. Not one used to denying himself, he’d let his lustful wolf
take over.

Self-retribution
had followed once he was in the shower and had a clearer head. ‘Bad
move, Taylor,’ he scolded himself. She could be—very possibly
was—the enemy. His plan of giving her a quick and highly abridged
interview didn’t include having sex. He was supposed to be acting
like an ass, offensive and uncooperative so that she’d hurry on her
way. With this in mind, he’d purposely been a jerk towards her this
morning, brushing off the encounter, no tender words... Hurt and
confusion had been evident in her eyes and, while he wasn’t the
most sensitive of guys, he usually didn’t treat his women that way.
Still, he’d steeled himself to do what was necessary and left her
thinking the worst of him, despite the fact that his wolf was
moving restlessly within him.

Maybe he should
have just told her to go away in the first place, but from what
he’d observed thus far, Melody wouldn’t give up that easily. At
least this way he knew what she was doing and could dole out
measured bits of information—enough to make it seem real, but never
anything important. Yes, it was still the best plan. He just had to
keep his mind focused on the possible threat she could pose, rather
than her other interesting qualities.

Setting his jaw,
Ryne firmed his resolve and went off to find his unwanted
guest.

Chapter
18

After leaving
Ryne’s house, Mel went home, changed her clothes, then tried to
concentrate on a list of questions to ask the man. Forcing all
thoughts of their early morning encounter out of her head, she
tried to view him as dispassionately as possible. What should she
start with? He was a reluctant participant, so she didn’t want to
put him on the defensive with the very first question. Hmm...
Tapping her pen against her lips, she considered the problem, then
settled on the tried and true; basic background. There was nothing
threatening about that. Date and place of birth seemed pretty safe,
followed by where he grew up and what schools he attended. Then she
could move on to his work inquiring about how he had started in
photography and did he have any formal training. After jotting down
her ideas, she sat back and considered the situation further.

She tried to
imagine herself as someone interested in nature pictures. What
would she want to know? Why was he interested in nature photography
rather than people or buildings? How did he choose his subjects?
What kind of cameras did he use? Were there special techniques that
differed from other forms of photography? Any special
considerations? Oh yes, and the locations. How did he select them
and where had he taken pictures previously? Aldrich had conveyed
that Greyson was particularly interested in the locations of the
pictures. Personally, Mel didn’t think it was that important, but
she wasn’t the one paying for the article now, was she?

The true story of
the missing sales associate and the pilfered money would be
interesting tidbits of information, but Mel scratched them from her
list. If she asked, then Ryne would know she’d been talking to the
people at Bastian’s Gallery in Smythston. For some reason, she felt
it prudent to not let him know she’d been there.

Setting her papers
aside, she contemplated the rest of her day. It was noon by the
time she’d left Ryne’s, declining the offer of lunch which had been
enthusiastically delivered by Bryan and Daniel and only grudgingly
acknowledged by Ryne. He hadn’t pressed her to stay, nor acted as
if anything had happened between them, so Mel decided he really had
just wanted sex—the asshole. The man obviously never had any real
interest in her; she’d just been a convenience, someone to help him
relieve his morning hard-on. Well, that was fine with her. She
could be just as blasé about it as him. After all, she wasn’t going
to be in Stump River that long anyway. Just don’t expect a repeat
performance, she added darkly.

A glance at her
watch told her it was only three o’clock. How should she spend the
rest of the day? There was no TV to watch and the card games loaded
on her computer were beginning to bore her after a week of playing
them each night. If she’d had an internet hook up, she could have
done some research on Lycans. It was a fascinating fantasy world
that people had created and she planned on spending some more time
reading up on the topic tomorrow, just out of curiosity.

Mel picked up the
romance novel she’d been reading, but after a few pages, set it
down. Since her encounter with Ryne, the sex in the story just
wasn’t that interesting anymore. She stared out the window at the
woods. The wind had finally died down and the sun shone brightly.
Maybe she could take a walk.

Without further
thought, she grabbed her coat and stepped outside. The temperature
was cool, but not so cold as to prevent her from enjoying the day.
After spending most of her life in the city, the idea of having
nature just outside her door was rather exciting. Mindful of the
possibility of wolves, she decided not to walk too far, keeping the
cabin in sight.

As she tromped
along, Mel tried to view the land as Ryne might, from a
photographer’s point of view. Light and shadows, angles and
background, unusual subject matter. It was amazing that, when she
actually looked, there were a lot of things to see in the forest.
Kneeling, she peered at some moss growing on the side of a tree. Up
close it was actually rather interesting; tiny little fronds of
bright green clinging to the rough grey bark; and the bark itself
was so textured and varying in shades. She ran her hand over the
moss and then the trunk, marvelling at the contrasting feel of
each. With an eye out for minute details, she continued exploring
the edge of the forest near the cabin, pausing every few feet to
examine some new wonder that she’d never noticed before.

By the time she
was finished, an hour had passed and Mel was full of enthusiasm for
nature photography. In fact, she was itching to try some herself
and wondered how much an inexpensive digital camera would set her
back. She’d have to ask Ryne when she saw him next. A frown passed
over her at the thought of the man. The way he kept blowing hot
then cold—make that somewhat friendly then rudely sarcastic—made
him difficult to deal with. Half the time she actually liked him,
but the rest of the time, she just wanted to give him a good swift
kick. Well, she’d ask him about the camera
before
she kicked
him.

Her stomach chose
that moment to rumble and she realized that, aside from some toast
and several cups of coffee, she hadn’t eaten yet that day. The
thought of cooking wasn’t overly appealing, so she decided to head
to town and see what Al was cooking at Ruth’s. She hurried back to
the cabin, grabbed her purse and keys, and drove to town to placate
her grumbling stomach.