Desert Wolf. Linda Thomas-Sundstrom
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gaze. Nor did his mouth come anywhere close to hers. He continued to steady her quaking limbs...and she was a sap for thinking he might have had other plans.
“You think you saw a bear?” he asked, reminding her of what she’d said.
She nodded. “Yes. Big, dark and like nothing I’ve ever seen.”
“It got that close?”
There was no way to miss the trepidation and concern in his voice. Each word he spoke made his chest rumble. However, Paxton couldn’t figure out why he was so concerned about her when her father’s will stated that if anything were to happen to her, the land she’d been left would go to guess who, along with Desperado.
“It looked at me through the windshield before taking off, and nearly wrecked the car,” she explained.
Grant’s hold on her loosened. She didn’t ask him to wait another minute before letting her go. Didn’t confess to needing his strength a while longer. What right did she have to expect anyone to save her from her own stupidity?
“I shouldn’t have tried to follow you,” she admitted.
His voice lowered. “It was a regrettable move, but not entirely unanticipated.”
Had he read her so easily, then?
Maybe that’s why he had found her out there on the road. He had expected her to act like an idiot. Expected her to spy on him.
“Do you know about the bear?” she asked.
“I haven’t heard of one, but we’ll be on the lookout after this.”
“Then why did you advise me not to go out to Desperado on my own, if not because of that bear?”
“The desert can be a dangerous place for other reasons.”
“Such as?”
“Snakes.” He hesitated before adding, “Wolves.”
“The threat of snakes and wolves is what made you warn me off?”
“In part.”
“There are more parts?” Paxton got the fact that Grant Wade didn’t appreciate being questioned when she was the one who had been caught in an unfortunate act of defiance.
Just one more question, she told herself.
“Were you driving back to town? That’s why you saw me?”
He returned a question for a question. “You’re sure it was a bear you saw?”
She pointed at the car. “What else could it have been? No wolf or coyote I’ve ever heard of is that big.”
Paxton was sure that having coffee while sitting across from Grant in a lighted café was not going to make her feel better about that dent in the hood. In fact, she felt foolish any way she looked at tonight’s events...and that made her angry.
“I’m all right,” she repeated. “I should probably get back to the motel and face the fire about this accident.”
“I’ll follow you,” he suggested. “I can talk to Dev, the manager of the motel, about the car.”
“My insurance might cover the damage, if anyone were to believe how it happened.”
Her self-appointed cowboy bodyguard smiled weakly and said, “I’ll take care of it.”
He hadn’t let her go and seemed as reluctant as she was for him to do so. And, okay, she had to admit that having his arms around her was nice. But she also got the feeling Grant was waiting for something. What? An invitation for that kiss?
Stupid girl. How inappropriate would that have been? How absurd was it to wait for a kiss that was not going to happen, in light of them still being strangers on the opposing sides of an upcoming round of litigation?
The thought had barely receded when Grant Wade rested his mouth on hers.
It wasn’t the smartest move, Grant knew. In fact, kissing Paxton was the polar opposite of smart. He just could not help himself.
The kiss was meant to be a further comfort for her, but didn’t turn out that way. Desire to devour the woman in his arms filled him the second his lips touched hers.
She was soft, and tasted good. He held her lithe body to his, thinking it might have been a fluke that she kissed him back. A kind of stunned reaction. Whatever the reason, Paxton, at least for the moment, accepted the pressure of his mouth as if she also had been waiting for this moment to arrive. As if it had been merely a matter of time before this happened, given their attraction to each other.
Possibly she needed an outlet for getting rid of her recent fear. Maybe he kissed her for the same reason, or because of the growing suspicion that his desire for her wasn’t normal. This wasn’t how strangers behaved. Something else had to be driving them together.
The kiss deepened. He couldn’t seem to get enough of her and didn’t want to stop. Distant thoughts nagged about being needed elsewhere, but Grant shook those warnings off in favor of exploring his ardent desire to possess Paxton Hall.
In that moment, he felt exactly like the animal he was. As his lips moved over Paxton’s, his sense of connection to her doubled. Flames of greed licked at his insides, piling higher and higher with each passing stroke of his palms over the fine bones of her spine. She didn’t struggle to be free or pound him with her fists. Her mouth was pliable, plush and accepting. If she had offered any hint of wanting to get away, he would have backed off.
That’s what he told himself, anyway.
Enough, his mind cautioned after more seconds slipped by. But he didn’t want to listen. He took hold of her shirt, intending to tear it from her body without giving a damn about who might be looking. The sheer force of that thought made him draw back.
Paxton’s breath came in rasps. Her face was extremely pale beneath the glare of the café’s lights. As their gazes locked and his body continued to harden in all the wrong places, Grant knew for certain he was in real trouble where Paxton Hall was concerned, and that his wolfish impulses were the instigators of those feelings.
She stood there, looking at him.
He wasn’t sure what to say.
The quick fix for this problem was to drive away and leave her there, as he should have done in order to regain his wits. But he did have to get her back to the motel. See her safely there.
Taking her hand in his, Grant led her to his truck in what amounted to a race against time. Sooner or later they would come to their senses about this connection and be able to manage the passions accompanying it. He preferred that to be later, because what he intended to do to and with Paxton was going to take some time.
Paxton’s curious expression told him she wasn’t going to stop this madness, either. Not yet, anyway. Whatever was taking place between them was seriously spiraling out of control. Not just for him, but for both of them.
She climbed into the truck when he opened the door. Grant was already mulling over the added difficulty of getting her out of the jeans she now wore.
All women should wear skirts, he thought. Black silk, preferably.
His passenger sat silently as he drove, her focus glued to the windshield. She was all legs—long, slim legs encased in dark blue denim. Her shirt was tight enough to show off curves he wouldn’t have anticipated, given the leanness of her overall silhouette.
She didn’t know what do with her hands, so they fluttered in much the same way his insides were fluttering, as she tried to rest them in her lap.
Are you pondering what might happen when we reach the motel?
Why didn’t she look at him?