Last Wolf Watching. Rhyannon ByrdЧитать онлайн книгу.
her down? A hazy image of being trapped beneath Brodyâs long, hard, muscular body flashed through her mind, and she trembled. God, talk about emotional overload. She was shaking so hard she could barely see straight.
âI donât understand,â she whispered, turning a dazed stare toward her best friend. âWhat just happened, Torry?â
Arching one slim red brow, Torrance shot a questioning look toward her husband. âIf I had to guess, Iâd say youâd just been given a personal bodyguard.â
Mason nodded, his handsome face carved into a cautious expression of concern. With a strange bubble of emotion in her throat that felt as if it could end in either laughter or tears, Michaela wondered who that concern was for. Was he worried how well sheâd deal with his brooding friend? Or was that hard expression that looked as if itâd been chiseled from granite for Brody? Did he think sheâd lead a reign of terror over the quiet Runnerâs life?
âAnd I get him?â she groaned, knowing it couldnât be true. There was no way in hell Brody Carter had just volunteered himselfâ¦to what? The job had sounded more like a watchdog than a bodyguard. âWhen he said that Iâm his, he meant his to watch over, right?â
Mason snorted a low, purely male sound under his breath, and led them deeper into the forest.
It took an hour of sitting there in the Dillingersâ cozy kitchen, with Torrance pouring another pot of herbal tea into her system, before Brody finally came to collect her. Michaela heard the commotion at the front door as he and his partner arrived. For a moment, she felt torn between the strangely opposing urges of running into the living room and demanding he comfort her, and sneaking out through the cabinâs back door, disappearing into the darknessâ¦as if she could run away from the ugly reality of the night.
But she couldnât move.
She waited, her breath held tight in her chest, until his broad-shouldered body filled the archway that led into the kitchen. His shadowed, dark green gaze trapped her the second he set eyes on her, refusing to let her look away, holding her with the sheer force of his will. The lines around his mouth were tight with strain, and at his sides, his hands were fisted, his knuckles bruised and a little swollen. His auburn hair was damp at the temples, his shirt torn at the shoulder and the sharp line of his left cheekbone had been scraped raw. Her brows pulled together in a tight frown as she added the details together and came to an unsettling conclusion. âYouâ¦you didnât fight after I left, did you?â
âAre you kidding?â Cian snorted, edging past his partner as he walked into the kitchen. âIt was just a playful scuffle. Hell, there were only ten of them, hardly enough to call it a fight. And none of them were brave enough to battle against Brooding Brody,â he drawled, hitching his hip against the counter. He crossed his arms over his chest, a cynical smile twisting the hard curve of his devilâs mouth, but Michaela couldnât tell if he was teasing or not.
âAnd Max was okay?â she asked, her attention focused on Brody while Torrance filled the sink with hot, lemon-scented dishwater and Mason finished off the sandwich heâd made while waiting.
Brody nodded in response to her question, but didnât move away from the archway. Instead, he crossed his own arms and propped his right shoulder against the wall, the recessed kitchen lighting glinting off the burnished stubble on his square chin, softening the stark lines of his scars. âEric took him away before we left. Heâll take good care of him, Doucet. No harm will come to your brother during his training.â
Michaela worked to ignore the devastating effect of his deep voiceâthat husky, intoxicating baritone that slipped into her with a sweet, provocative slide and made her hot beneath the skinâbut it didnât work worth a damn. The tight, black cashmere sweater that had kept her warm outside now sat too heavy over her damp skin, filling her face with heat. Lowering her gaze to the steam rising from her tea, the china cup fragile within the straining hold of her hands, she asked, âAnd after that? After the training?â
âIf he doesnât pass, then weâd all stand together to ensure his safety, if it comes to that,â Mason told her. She flicked her gaze up to see his easy grin as he added, âBut if heâs anything like you, thatâs not going to be a concern. If thereâs one thing I know about the Doucets, itâs that theyâre tough as nails.â
âThanks,â she murmured with a wry twist of her mouth. âI think.â
âDonât worry,â Torrance laughed, sending her husband a teasing look. âMaseâs compliments are still a little rough around the edges, but he means well.â
The Runner flashed his wife a wicked, hard-edged smile and playfully wagged his brows. âFace it, Tor. You love my rough side.â
âBehave,â Torrance admonished under her breath, but her green eyes glittered with excitement, her cheeks flushed a warm shade of rose. The love the two shared was so potent, so rich and heady and intense, that it seemed to fill the room, making Michaela painfully aware of howâ¦alone she was. All sheâd had was Max, and now even he had been taken from her.
âMax will pass his training,â Brody rumbled, breaking the awkward silence. âAnd until all of this is over, Iâllâ¦be with you.â It almost sounded as if that last bit had stuck in his throat, and she wasnât the only one whoâd noticed.
âIf youâre not up to the task,â his partner drawled, reaching behind him to snatch up one of the cookies out of the perpetually stocked cookie jar, âI could always be a pal and step in for you, partner.â
Brody didnât so much as twitch, but she could see the vein that began throbbing in his temple, pulsing beneath the dark sheen of his skin as he tilted his head and glared at the smirking Irishman. Energy, red-hot and raging, surged around him like a fiery glow, so real Michaela almost flinched from the burn. âLike hell you will.â
âWhy not me?â Cian laughed, sending her a teasing wink. The irreverent Runner obviously loved goading his partner and friend, but Michaela could sense something deeper than mere irritation in Brodyâs reaction, and she didnât need any of her so-called powers to see it.
âWhy not you?â he softly snarled. âBecause youâd be too busy bedding her instead of protecting her, thatâs why!â
Cian choked on another sharp bark of laughter, while Michaela made a soft sound of surprise, thoroughly insulted to think that heâd lumped her into the same class as all the other women who willingly fell into Hennesseyâs arms simply because of his looks. âIâm going to assume youâre letting your irritation talk,â she murmured, âand that you didnât mean that to sound as insulting as it did.â
âDonât bet on it,â Cian snickered, just before Mason elbowed him in the side on his way to the sink with his plate. The Irishman rubbed at his ribs, but couldnât stop his soft chuckling, and the frustration in Brody seemed to coil like a viper.
All it took was a womanâs keen intuition to realize that he thought sheâd rather have the pretty-faced Irishman watching over her than him. And while it was one thing for other women to prefer his dark-haired partner, something inside of Michaela compelled her to say, âAs charming as you are, Hennessey, Iâmâ¦that is, I think the current arrangement will work just fine.â
âWow,â Cian drawled, gifting her with a boyish smile as he rubbed one hand against the sharp angle of his shadowed jaw. âI donât think Iâve ever been turned down so nicely before.â He looked toward his partner, arching one midnight-black brow. âSeems the lady is happy with you after all, boyo. Congratulations.â
Brodyâs scowl deepened