The Wolf's Surrender. Kendra Leigh CastleЧитать онлайн книгу.
her on a little.
“Yeah. Tomorrow or the day after.”
Her tone was acid. “Wow. You’re a font of information, Nick.”
“It’s Jenner,” he said quickly, not liking the way it felt to hear his given name roll off her tongue that way. It was too familiar, reminded him too strongly of his old life, and his journey into this one. “Everyone calls me Jenner.”
“Jenner,” she repeated. “Like that big rat in the kids’ movie. Secret of NIMH.”
“Rat?” Jenner looked over at Mia, and immediately understood what the problem was. She was no longer just fighting sleep. Sleep was actively fighting her, and the two appeared to be locked in an epic battle for supremacy. It seemed pretty obvious sleep was gaining the upper hand.
Not a surprise, since after a werewolf bite it was less like sleep and more like falling down a black hole for a whole bunch of hours.
“Bad rat,” Mia said. “Got stabbed. Was a happy ending.” She yawned.
Jenner grimaced. “Stabbed. Great. You’re making my night, Mia. Thanks.” What kind of literary asshole named an evil rat Jenner, anyway?
“I like Nick better,” she said, slurring her words. “Iss nice.” She yawned. “Nick the werewolf. Awoo.” Another chuckle.
This time, she sounded so young and exhausted that he didn’t have the heart to correct her. And he guessed he had to give her points for the little wolf howl she did at the end before falling silent. He drove on in silence, making the turn onto the heavily wooded road on the outskirts of the Hollow where he lived. It occurred to him all at once that he’d never brought a woman out here. Whenever he’d scratched that particular itch, a thing he did only infrequently because of complications he wanted to avoid, he’d done it elsewhere.
Well, it wasn’t like he was bringing her home to go to bed with, Jenner thought with a frown. And it wasn’t like she was staying long. And if she made him feel a little itchy that way, well…he could deal with it.
Mia sighed in the seat beside him, a breathy exhalation of pleasure that had his mind immediately racing for the gutter. He was pretty sure that after he got her carried into the house and tucked into bed, his mind was going to stay in that gutter for the night and roll around for a while.
He could handle it, Jenner thought, his jaw tightening. He could handle most anything.
But really, did their first feral victim in ages have to be quite so appealing?
The soft gasp beside him made him jump a little as he pulled into the long drive. The lights he’d left on glimmered through the trees ahead.
“What is it?” he asked. “Mia? You okay?”
“We forgot my stuff,” she slurred, her voice soft and getting softer with every word. “Di…did I tell you I was staying at…at the…”
“I’ll have someone get your things,” Jenner said, relieved. “No problem.” Bite complications were rare, but always a worry. This, though, was just Mia’s last stand against unconsciousness. He smiled a little. It was hard not to appreciate her effort, futile though it was. She’d lasted far longer than most. He pulled the truck up in front of the garage, put it in park, and killed the engine.
“We’re here, Mia. Time to go to bed.”
“Um. Mmm. It was…inna room…blue room…” She trailed off, and when Jenner looked over at her she was sound asleep, mouth slightly open, head tipped back. His smile faded as he looked at her, finally letting his eyes wander over her sleeping form. Small, slim-waisted but with curves in all the right places. Naturally, since he was a sucker for an hourglass figure. And that face…she really did look like a Roman goddess. Not Venus, though. More like Diana. Goddess of the hunt…and of the moon.
Pretty little thing, Jenner thought grimly, remembering Dex’s words. Hell with that. Mia was beautiful.
And if he didn’t want his life screwed up all over again, he was going to have to be very, very careful.
“Just for tonight,” he told her, though her only response was the deep breathing common to those soundly asleep. Jenner just shook his head, then got out of the truck and headed around to the other side to get his passed-out charge. The only sounds in the night were the crunch of gravel beneath his feet, the distant call of an owl. And, as he gathered Mia into his arms, the uneven beat of his own stupid heart.
Mia awoke, mouth watering, to the tantalizing scents of coffee and bacon. She could hear the sizzle and pop of the bacon in the frying pan, could almost taste the decadently rich coffee on her tongue.
Kona, she thought dreamily, drifting in the peaceful place between waking and sleep. Who bought the Kona? It’s my favorite…
Reality intruded far too quickly, and all at once. Mia’s eyes fluttered open as memories of the night before returned with a vengeance, each horrible image cascading into the next. Her heart quickened, the impulse to throw off the covers and run somewhere, anywhere, almost overpowering.
Almost.
Mia closed her eyes again and forced herself to think, to remember the rest. The rescuers in the woods. The ride in the truck with Nick Jenner, foggy though that last bit was. Jeff was gone, Mia told herself firmly. She was safe. She was being protected now.
A pair of big, golden eyes surfaced in her memory, and a husky growl of a voice. I can make him pay. You have to trust me.
In the company of werewolves. What a comfort. Especially since, along with her myriad of other problems, she was now on her way to becoming one. Or something like one. What exactly did you get when you crossed a werewolf with her sort of blood? Somehow, she didn’t think that would be a great conversation starter here.
With a strangled groan, Mia opened her eyes, sat up, and slowly pushed the covers back, blinking rapidly as she realized her contacts were dried out and stuck to her eyes.
Crap. An attempted run of her fingers through her hair indicated that it, too, was showing the effects of a rough night. Snarl city. She exhaled loudly and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, dangling them above the floor for a few moments as she got her bearings. Gooseflesh prickled over her exposed skin. Mia looked resignedly down at her bra, a lacy black number that seemed ridiculously out of place this morning. Her tattered, bloodied shirt had been removed, a gesture that left her torn between gratefulness and embarrassment. At least her jeans were still on, slightly dirt-stained though they were. Her feet were bare.
The thought of big, handsome Nick Jenner removing her socks and shoes and tucking her into bed made her flush…and wish she’d been just a little bit awake for it. Quickly, she pushed the thought from her mind. She had more pressing things to worry about now. And after last night, another man who could sprout fangs was the last thing she needed. She took full responsibility for Jeff. She should have known better. She’d always gone for the damaged ones, the ones who might just need her enough not to push her away if they ever discovered what she was. Mia was old enough to know that secrecy didn’t have to mean shame, but the feeling that she was somehow wrong had lingered…and her choice of men had borne that out over the years.
But even by her standards, Jeff had been needy. Charming, yes, but unmistakably broken in some way she couldn’t begin to touch.
The thought of him brought a mix of emotions to the surface: fury, betrayal, even shame that she hadn’t seen him for the predator he was. And underlying it all, sadness. Maybe one of these days she’d learn that fixing emotionally wounded men—or trying—wasn’t going to fix her own problems.
At least he’d tried to kill her before she could sleep with him. Small favors. And now she was here with Jenner, who didn’t seem like the kind of guy who needed anyone, least of all her. Not her type.
Yeah, she’d just keep telling herself that…
Mia slid off the edge of the simple