Read Wolver's Gold (The Wolvers) Online
Authors: Jacqueline Rhoades
It was really too nice an evening to argue, but lessons were learned by consistent repetition.
“There was no reason to see me home. I’m not your date.”
“My girl, then.”
He laughed with that mischievous naughty-boy look in his eye and Rachel understood how he must have driven his teachers to distraction. She wondered if they had trouble holding their laughter back, too.
“I’m not a girl,” she admonished and proved she’d make a terrible teacher by laughing as she scolded.
“Okay. You win. My woman it is.” McCall double stepped to align his pace with hers and then laughed again as she pursed her lips. “Keep puckering up like that, Miss Prim, and I’ll think you’re begging for a kiss.”
“You are incorrigible, Mr. McCall.”
“You’re not the first to say so, Miss Kincaid. So, why’d you run off and leave me?”
“I didn’t leave you. It wasn’t a date. Remember? You were busy and I didn’t want to interrupt you.”
It was her wolf who wanted to interrupt him and Rachel who’d fought down the desire.
“There was nothing to interrupt. I was just making the rounds and introducing myself.”
“No, Mr. McCall. That’s what you pretended to do. What you were doing was
watching Mayor Hoffman and those closest to him.”
Unable to keep her eyes from following McCall as he wove his way through the gathering, she admired his easy charm as he transferred his attention from one group to the other. He had none of the uncomfortable awkwardness of a man unused to suits and ties which made her wonder why he claimed otherwise. Nor did he confine his attentions to the men, but stopped to chat with each group of women as well, and treated them all to the same captivating smile; something her wolf did not like.
But she also noticed that his movements were strategically planned to put him in position to observe, and perhaps overhear the Mayor and those who were regularly to be found by his side.
Someone not so keenly observant of the man might not have noticed,
but Rachel did. McCall hesitated a beat too long before he spoke with a smile in his voice.
“There is more to you than meets the eye, Miss Kincaid. You were spying on me.”
“And you, sir, are trying to change the subject. You’re in luck,” she told him as they arrived at the hotel. “I thank you for your company and I’ll bid you goodnight.”
“Not so fast, Red. What kind of gentleman would I be if I let you wash all those dishes alone?” he asked as he held the door for her and followed her in.
“Laundry and now dishes, Mr. McCall?
“I’m a man o
f many talents, Miss Kincaid.”
Rachel thought he spoke the truth. She was beginning to wonder, however, just what those talents were.
“Papa,” Rachel called when McCall closed the door behind them.
They’d argued about leaving the hotel unattended and Rachel thought she’d won when her father agreed to watch over things for the few hours she’d be gone. Evidently, the lure of the card table was just too strong for
Papa to resist. He was right, in a sense. It shouldn’t matter. There was no one to attend to but their regular lodgers.
Overnight guests were scarce this time of year. Most wolvers preferred to run with their home packs at the Hunter’s Moon.
During all the other full moons of the year, females could only go over the moon with the power of the Alpha. The Hunter’s Moon was different. Every adult wolver, male or female, could run on the Hunter’s Moon without the aid of an Alpha.
Some packs
considered it the most important day of the year and held huge festival events to celebrate the three days of the Hunter’s Moon. For Gold Gulch, those days had become ordinary work days. Some males shifted, but the females were too overworked during the day to go over the moon all night, too.
So, it shouldn’t matter that the desk was unattended, but it did. How was Rachel to have any life outside the hotel if she couldn’t count on her father’
s help? She called him again.
“Maybe he went to bed,” McCall suggested after checking the Gentlemen’s Lounge.
It was barely nine and Papa never went to bed until after midnight. Rachel would know since he had to go through her room to get to his and usually stumbled in the dark. He was always up and dressed in time for breakfast, though he regularly took a nap right after.
“Do you want me to lock up?”
he continued.
“Only t
he office, if you would, please,” she answered on a sigh. “The day’s earnings are in there until the bank opens in the morning. We’ve never had a problem, but…”
“No sense tempting fate,”
he finished, “Got it.”
She
made her way through the public dining room to the kitchen where another surprise awaited.
Eustace was unloading
one of the wooden crates of dishes when she entered the kitchen, but what caught her attention was the large bouquet of flowers sitting in a crockery pitcher they used for refilling water glasses.
“They’re beautiful!” Rachel exclaimed.
“They might be, excepting who brought ‘em,” Eustace muttered on his way out the back door for another load.
“You’re father asked me to watch the desk. He said you’d be home shortly. That was two hours ago.” Jack Coogan came from the store room with a bowl of ice. “He said to make myself at home.” He nodded at the bottle of whiskey. “I knew you’d like the flowers. Can I pour you one?” he asked, lifting a glass.
“No,” she said, and belatedly, “Thank you.”
“She doesn’t drink,” McCall said from the door.
Coogan looked surprised. “What are you doing here?”
“More to the point, what the hell are you doing here? I distinctly heard the lady say get out and don’t come back.”
McCall strode to the table, picked up the bottle and capped it. “Like the song says, ‘Hit the road, Jack.’”
Jack Coogan straightened his shoulders and shot his cuffs. “I have been invited by the owner of the establishment with his permission to call upon his daughter.”
“Here’s the problem with that. You forgot to ask the permission of the daughter.”
“And the daughter, I mean, I refused,” Rachel chimed in. It was very nice of the sheriff to defend her, but she didn’t need him to speak on her behalf.
“You gonna stand there yammering or are you gonna get these dishes washed.” Eustace stood in the doorway with another crate of dishes. “I got better things to do on my night off than stand around holding these crates.”
“You have nothing better to do than what you’re told,” Coogan snapped.
“I could say the same for you. Get out, Coogan.” McCall used his thumb to point the way.
“You’ve got no stake in this game, McCall. What’s between me and Rachel has
nothing to do with you.”
Instead of taking exception to Jack Coogan’s comment,
McCall turned his attention to Rachel. He sucked in his cheeks in such a way that she knew he was holding his anger back. He released them only to pucker his lips and shimmy his shoulders. “Language, Mr. McCall. Mind your manners, Mr. McCall,” he mimicked her admonitions, “Yet evidently, I’m the only fucking guy in town who calls you Miss Kincaid.” He turned on Coogan and stalked toward him. “No stake in this game? I’ve played for higher stakes than a little shit social climber like you could ever imagine. And I. Don’t. Lose.”
Coogan backed around the table. “
You lost that Alpha’s daughter,” he sneered.
“Don’t be so sure about that,” McCall sneered back.
Coogan must have seen the same thing in McCall’s eyes that Rachel did. They’d taken on the bright, steely gaze that said his wolf was close to the surface. He stepped back from the table and watched McCall carefully, but he didn’t back down.
The shepherd, who’d stayed quietly by her side, whined
, and Eustace scooted out the door.
“
Got more crates to unload,” he called over his shoulder.
Rachel stepped forward a
nd held out her hands in a placating gesture. There would be no altercations in her kitchen.
“Mr. Coogan, I’ll see you t
o the door. I cannot forbid your association with my father, but should you call on me again, you will find me not at home.” As she passed McCall on her way through the door to the dining room, she gave him a look that distinctly said, “Stay here.” Aloud to the dog, she said, “You, too.”
The dog looked at McCall, who nodded. The dog sat with a grumble, clearly stating its objections.
They’d entered the front hall, with two closed doors between them and the kitchen, before Coogan spoke.
“I know I’ve approached this in the wrong way, Rachel
, but that doesn’t make me the bad guy and you need to listen to me. Your father has debts and debts must be paid, so you have a choice; me or Barnabas Holt. I’ve always had a yen for you, even when we were in school. I’ll be a good mate. You and I can make a go of this place. I’ve got ideas, good ones. With me handling your money and you managing, I can take us to the top of the pack.
“
Barnabas Holt has plans, too. He’ll take your money and bleed you dry and then, when the time comes, he’ll make his move and put you aside. Pack comes first. That’s his excuse for everything he does. He’ll have what he wants and you’ll end up with less than Eustace.”
Rachel heard the words, but nothing about them registered in her brain except, “Your father has debts
, and debts must be paid.”
“How much does he owe?” she managed to ask.
The sum he named took her breath away. “That’s only what he owes me.”
Your father has debts
, and debts must be paid.
“Thank you,” she said
, staring straight ahead. She meant for his honesty, but her stunned brain could manage nothing more.
Your father has debts
, and debts must be paid.
“I knew you’d see the sense of it,”
Coogan said as he stepped forward and put his hands on her shoulders. “I say we seal the deal.” He leaned in and kissed her. It was the barest touch of lips, but it felt wet and sloppy.
Her dazed mind took a moment too long to comprehend
what was happening, but her wolf had no concept of money or trading a daughter for a gambling debt. It snarled and leapt within her at the audacity of this wolver who was clearly beneath her.
Rachel was so shaken by the she-
wolf’s response that she simply followed it. She shouted the echo of what she heard inside.
“No!”
It wasn’t solely for the kiss. It was a rejection of everything else, as well. It was no to a father who would trade his daughter to pay a debt like a horse at the livery, no to losing the one bit of control she had over her life, no to the idea of her expected compliance, and a last defiant no to the knowledge that this end was inevitable. Whether she mated or not, this hotel would never be hers.
She shouted, “No!” again as the dining room doors crashed open
and McCall burst through. One of the small glass panes cracked with the impact against the wall.
He slammed the bolt lock open and tore open the front door and
, at the frightened insistence of her wolf, Rachel shouted, “No!” again, but this time, it was against McCall’s leaving.
“He doesn’t lose well, does he?” Coogan laughed. “Don’t worry, Sheriff, the first time’s the hardest.”
“Then this time should be easy,” McCall growled as he turned.
His hand lashed out, caught Coogan by the scruff of the neck
, and shoved him through the open front door. Just as he had done the day of Rachel’s broom attack, McCall’s foot caught the wolver’s backside and sent him sprawling. The difference was that it was evening and there were people walking home from the Lantern Show, a few of whom turned to watch.
"You have no idea who I am,
" Jack Coogan shouted from the dirt.
“Here we go; déjà vu all over again.” McCall laughed without humor. “I say y
ou got that right and I don't much care." He lifted his finger in warning when Coogan opened his mouth. “You say, ‘You’re done in this town.’ Snarl here if you feel the need,” he said as an aside, “And then I say, okay, but you won't live to enjoy your petty victory. Then there’s a little more blah, blah, blah, and I say – and listen closely here – you want to challenge me, you go right ahead. I’ll be happy to oblige. But if you have an ounce of sense, you and I can forget all this and get along just fine. Sound good to you?” He moved his hand in a circular motion, meaning to speed things up. “This is where you say yes.” He smiled and offered his hand to pull Coogan up from the dirt.
“No!” Cogan shouted and appealed to the wolvers who’d gathered to watch. “
Who does he think he is? He doesn’t belong here. He doesn’t know how things are done.”
A murmur ran through the crowd, but it didn’t sound too supportive of Coogan.
“I know things about the wolvers in this town,” Coogan threatened, “I have markers I can call in once they know what I know. How long do you think you’ll last then?”
McCall stopped smiling and withdrew his hand.
“I don’t care how many markers you hold. I only have to last longer than you. Touch Miss Kincaid again and I’ll kill you. Go home,” he called to the crowd, “There’s nothing more to see.”
Rachel, who’d heard everything from her frozen position in the doorway,
knew the darkness wouldn’t hide the color rising to her cheeks. Wolvers saw almost as well in the dark as in the day and as many eyes were turned to her as to the sheriff. She wanted to bolt the door and hide, but the look on McCall’s face when he started back inside said he’d probably kick the door in if she closed it.
He marched through the door, grabbing her hand as he passed and pulling her after him. Clear
of the door, he kicked it shut.
“Evidently, I’m also the only fucking guy in town who hasn’t kissed you, Miss Kincaid.” He
pulled her into his arms and proceeded to do just that.
This wasn’t the
soggy brush of Jack Coogan, or the mashing of Barnabas Holt. It was forceful, yet soft; fiery, yet sweet. Rachel couldn’t find it in herself to stiffen against it. Her mind was whirling again, but in a different direction.
All thoughts of debt, dirty dishes, and the hopeless monotony of her predetermined life,
disappeared in the dizzying sensation of Challenger McCall’s kiss. She melted into it. Her hands slid around his sides and up his back where she clung to him, afraid her trembling appendages might turn to jelly and she would fall to the floor.
She needn’t have worried. McCall’s arms tightened around her and molded her to his body. Slightly opening his mouth, he touched his tongue to her lips
which sent another new and delightful sensation through her. Unsure how to respond, she did what she was trained to do. She followed her partner’s lead in this unfamiliar dance. She opened her mouth and darted her tongue out to touch his.
McCall’s little grunt of pleasure gave her courage and she did it again. He apparently considered that an invitation to enter. With a purr-like growl sounding deep in his throat, he invaded her mouth with his tongue.
It probed deeply, investigating the recesses of her mouth in such a pleasurable way that she responded in kind and found as much pleasure in probing as being probed.
Her wolf was chortling with joy, so loud
ly that it echoed in the small foyer, which gave her the impression of two wolves laughing at once. Rachel thought the whole pack might hear it and think her wolf had gone mad. She didn’t care. If this was madness, she’d gladly wallow in it.
Rachel had always thought of kissing as merely a pressing of the lips together; a sign of affection, surely, as she remembered her mother’s goodnight kisses with fondness, but this? This was something else! It did to her, what the whiskey did, but better, so much better, and without, she assumed, the uncomfortable repercussions in the morning. In kissing Challenger McCall, she felt free
.