Tamed by the She-Wolf Page 8

  His libido had reawakened the night they’d met. At first he’d wondered if his reaction had simply been a response to his hormones righting the chemical balance in his body after years of suppression. But none of the other women he’d encountered over the last few days had sparked the same feeling.

  The air seemed to charge whenever Angeline was near and she pulled from him a need to protect and pleasure. A need that would intensify as the full moon drew near.

  The way she turned and smiled made Lincoln feel as if she’d read his thoughts.

  Silently, he laughed at the notion. In their wolf forms, Wahyas were telepathic with others also in their wolf form. The ability to mentally communicate did not transfer to their human forms, unless a mate-bond had formed. Not all wolfans in a mateship developed the ethereal connection, but those who did were synced mind and body, heart and soul.

  Lincoln’s heart and soul belonged to the Dogman program. His mind and body would do well to remember the commitment he’d made and not get used to Angeline’s company. Despite pressure from his CO, Lincoln had no immediate plans to retire and settle down. But he was a long way from proving his readiness for active duty if he couldn’t accomplish the simple task of grocery shopping on his own.

  * * *

  Humming the new tune that she was composing, Angeline drove into the parking lot of the Chatuge View Apartments. Admittedly, even if one climbed on top of the roof with a pair of binoculars, Lake Chatuge would be a distant blur. There was, however, a nearby retention pond the residents had jokingly named after the big lake.

  She parked next to Lincoln’s empty truck. Instead of following him to their apartment complex, Angeline had stopped by the gas station to top off her tank before coming home.

  With one lightweight shopping bag in hand, she climbed out of the car. Rarely did she purchase more than she could eat in a week. Lincoln, however, had loaded up his cart. From the stress the activity seemed to cause him, Angeline figured he didn’t want to return to the store anytime soon.

  At first Lincoln had relaxed when she’d begun helping him find the things he wanted. But before they’d been ready to check out, a dark mood had settled over him. His side of the conversation had whittled down to grunts by the time they’d parted. Except for the harsh words he’d snarled when she’d asked if he wanted her assistance getting his groceries to the truck.

  Angeline peered at the two bags left in the truck bed, wondering if she should risk a repeat. When Lincoln didn’t appear after a full minute, she gathered his groceries with her own and headed upstairs.

  His door had been left open and he stood in the kitchen guzzling a bottle of water. He turned as she walked into the apartment. The storm in his eyes had yet to subside. His gaze dropped to the bags in her hands. “What are you doing?”

  “I saw these in the back of the truck. Since I was coming upstairs, I thought I’d save you a trip back down.”

  “Did you not understand what I said earlier?” An angry treble crisped his words. “I don’t need anyone’s help!”

  “I’m just being neighborly.” Angeline placed his bags on the kitchen counter. “I would’ve done it for anyone.”

  “I’m not just anyone.” The underlying snarl was quiet, menacing, and absolutely pissed off Angeline.

  “Because you’re a big, bad Dogman,” she snapped, stepping toward him. “Big freakin’ deal!”

  “It is a big deal.” A tremor ran along his clenched jaw and his fingers tightened around the empty water bottle, crackling and collapsing it in his fist.

  “Being a Dogman or accepting help?” Angeline stood close enough to feel warm puffs of air on her face as Lincoln’s chest heaved. “You’re in the real world now, Lincoln. And while you’re here, you are part of the community. Part of the pack.”

  Giving him the get-your-shit-together look she reserved for the babysitting times when her nieces and nephews got on her last nerve, Angeline raised on her toes. “Get used to people being neighborly and offering a helpful hand. It’s who we are. It’s what we do. And we aren’t going to change for you—Dogman.”

  The corded muscles in his neck flexed as he swallowed.

  After a glaring match that she refused to forfeit, primal interest flickered in his eyes, defusing the anger but whipping up emotions just as turbulent. His gaze drew back, as if taking in all of her face, which warmed with the visual caress. When he focused on her mouth, her lips tingled. Angeline could list a dozen or more reasons why she should walk away. Only one to stay.

  Her instinct ruled in favor of the one.

  Pressing her lips against his mouth, she gave him a chaste kiss. Eyes open and intently watching her, Lincoln laid his hands on her waist and urged her closer. As she snuggled against him, his arms wrapped around her, holding but not restraining. His eyelids slid closed and his lips parted.

  Her eyes drifting closed, Angeline deepened the kiss. Gently, she probed his mouth, eliciting a soft, deep masculine growl. A shiver of satisfaction swept across her skin, warming her despite the cold breeze drifting in from the open door.

  He took charge of the kiss, branding her mouth, claiming her breath and heating her to the very core. Usually she kept her head when kissing a man. Never allowing too much emotion or real feeling to emerge.

  She’d lost her heart once to a Dogman. To do so again would be foolish. Dogmen were committed to the program every bit as much as true mates were to each other.

  But that didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy Lincoln’s kisses or caresses, among other things.

  The feel of his hands palming her curves and gliding up her back to cradle her neck sent an electric tingle down her spine. He tilted back her head, comfortably resettling her from her tiptoes to the flats of her feet. She sighed against his mouth. Without breaking their kiss, he softly chuckled.

  Whatever worries that had darkened Lincoln’s mood, he seemed to have forgotten. Angeline sensed no more anger and frustration, only curiosity and desire.

  “Am I interrupting?” Tristan’s voice carried above the knock on the open door.

  Angeline stepped back from the kiss. Despite the less than friendly look she aimed at Tristan, he responded with an irritating grin.

  “We were, um...” Eyes still slightly hooded and a small smile upon his mouth, Lincoln cleared his throat. “She was helping me with the groceries.”

  “Never heard it called that, but okay.” Tristan’s grin broadened and a tease glinted in his dark eyes.

  “Were we meeting up today?” Lincoln asked.

  “Nah.” Tristan waved his hand. “I was on my way to see Angeline and noticed your door was open.”

  Although Lincoln’s expression and loose-limbed posture didn’t change, Angeline sensed the tension creeping into his body. Could feel it, actually, tightening her muscles.

  If she didn’t know better, she would think Lincoln was a little jealous. More than likely, his heightened tension was due to Tristan’s sudden appearance.

  “Nel’s baby shower is today,” Angeline said. “I asked Tristan to pick up the gift.”

  “Not going to the party?” Lincoln asked.

  “Not my thing.” Nothing against Nel. Angeline didn’t quite fit in with Nel’s circle of human friends. And because Angeline and Tristan had been intimately close friends, she felt a little awkward around his pregnant mate.

  “Well, thanks for being neighborly.” Lincoln lifted a couple of cans from the bag on the counter and stepped toward the small pantry.

  Eyes narrowing ever so slightly, Tristan’s gaze flickered to Lincoln and back to Angeline.

  “Anytime.” She snagged Tristan’s elbow, tugging him along as she left.

  “I’ll catch up with you tomorrow,” Tristan said to Lincoln, stopping to close the door.

  Angeline hurried down the corridor to her apartment. Tristan followed at a leisurely stroll.
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  “So.” He stepped inside and shut out the cold. “You and Lincoln seemed cozy.”

  “I don’t do cozy.” Angeline walked into the kitchen and put away her few groceries before gathering the gift basket in the bedroom. “Give Nel my best.”

  “I didn’t do cozy, either, until I met Nel.”

  “Lincoln is a Dogman. No matter how strong of an attraction we might have, his heart will always belong to the Program.” And Angeline wouldn’t set herself up for another broken heart.

  Chapter 9

  The icy fingers of the crisp, Wednesday morning air pinched Lincoln’s face. Standing near the edge of the ledge at Walker’s Pointe, he gazed over the Walker’s Run territory and down at the sleepy little town of Maico below. Calm, serene. Peaceful.

  After all of the violence he’d seen and been required to do, Lincoln never expected to experience those feelings again. Yet, here he was, in the most idyllic place he would ever set his paw upon, daydreaming about accepting Brice’s invitation to make Maico, the gentle town in the heart of the Walker’s Run territory, his home.

  But what would Lincoln do if he stayed?

  A career soldier accustomed to watching tanks rolling past instead of ordinary trucks and cars and motorcycles, he lacked any useful civilian skills.

  “This is my favorite place.” Brice stepped beside Lincoln.

  “I can see why.” Lincoln deeply inhaled fresh, crisp mountain air. “It feels...”

  “Like home?”

  “Surreal. I’m not used to all this tranquility.”

  “It’s not hard to adapt to Walker’s Run. This place settles in your blood and roots in your soul. Makes it difficult for some wolfans to leave.”

  “I’m not here to settle down.” Lincoln stuffed his hands into the pockets of the thick jacket he’d received in the shipment of clothes from headquarters.

  “When we met in Romania, I saw the same restlessness and longing in your eyes that I had felt before returning home. Even then, you were growing tired of the Program. There’s nothing wrong with wanting out.”

  “I don’t want out.” Not yet.

  The news today from Colonel Llewellyn did not deviate from the script he’d given Lincoln every time he’d called. No one had seen or heard from Dayax, and his body had not been found.

  This time, though, the Colonel had spoken the grim truth that the boy might never be found, alive or dead. Lincoln still had to try. “I can’t help Dayax if I’m not a Dogman.”

  “My friends in the Woelfesenat agree.”

  Lincoln’s entire body switched to running on silent mode. The breath stilled in his lungs. The steady thump of his heart quieted to a whisper. Even his thoughts paused as he watched and waited for Brice to continue.

  “A new Dogman team will soon join the human forces in Taifa. When they deploy, so will you. Your only mission will be to find Dayax and the other missing children.”

  The tiny hairs at the base of Lincoln’s neck began to rise. “I sense a but coming.”

  “You have to pass the readiness evaluation.”

  “Damn!” The test was a three-week assault of a recruit’s senses, strength and willingness to die for the Program.

  “Since you’re already a Dogman, I convinced them to simply put you through the final physical obstacle course.”

  “Fair enough.” As a weight lifted from Lincoln’s shoulders, cold determination settled in his gut. Weeks of rehab had kept him physically fit, but he needed more practice shifting. No longer could he simply shuck off his clothes and go wolf. Now he had to carefully remove his leg or risk disintegrating the state-of-the-art prosthetic prototype the Program had entrusted to him.

  “I bargained with the Woelfesenat to grant you one last mission, Linc. But I couldn’t stop your mandatory medical retirement. Whether or not you come home with Dayax, your career as a Dogman will be over.”

  “I appreciate everything you’ve done.” He was more than humbled by it, actually. Lincoln had seen the impact of Brice’s hard-hitting negotiating skills in Romania. Brokering peace in the midst of pure, unadulterated hatred required more than talent. One needed divine favor.

  Something Brice seemed to have in spades and wasn’t stingy in dispensing.

  “After you find him, what then?”

  “Hadn’t really thought much further than that.”

  “You need to, for yourself and Dayax.”

  Lincoln returned his gaze to the tranquil community below.

  Home. The word pulsed through his mind.

  Perhaps his pain medication had skewed his senses. Southwest Texas had been his home. And the Big Bend pack had always buzzed with activity and competition to be the best.

  There was nothing inherently wrong with that mind-set. It had propelled his mother forward in her career as a Texas Ranger and had kept his father alive as an undercover DEA agent. It had also formed the foundation of Lincoln’s career. Unfortunately, no one could stay at the top forever. And his topple had caused his best friend her life.

  “If the Woelfesenat allows me to bring Dayax to the States, would someone in Walker’s Run be interested in fostering him?” Lincoln would be able to keep tabs on the boy if he was adopted into Brice’s pack.

  “What about yourself?”

  “I’m not father material,” Lincoln said. Dayax deserved so much more than a washed-up Dogman for a father.

  “Are you sure about that?”

  It was the one thing Lincoln had utter confidence in.

  * * *

  Angeline paused beside the babbling river, careful not to get her paws wet. A slight breeze ruffled her fur. The thick coat locked in her body heat against the cold night. A near full moon shimmered in the dark, velvety expanse of the sky.

  There was a time when she’d eagerly anticipated the coming of a full moon. She never had to worry about finding a sex partner, full moon or otherwise. Usually she hooked up with a customer from the restaurant for a bit of fun.

  A few years ago she’d picked the wrong man and narrowly avoided an unimaginable predicament. Still, the near miss caused her stomach to turn whenever she remembered the incident. Since then she’d toned down her flirtations and vowed never to have casual sex with a man she didn’t know and trust.

  That had become a complication in and of itself. Wolfan males could become possessive, especially of a female sex partner. However, some had managed to forge successful full moon partnerships. The caveat was that the male and female did not engage socially nor did they have human style sex. Their full moon rendezvous and romps were always in wolf form, thereby eliminating the development of emotional attachments.

  Angeline had yet to find such a partner.

  It would probably help if she actually started looking for one. Her throat grew tight. Lowering her head, Angeline stretched her neck to lap the water. The icy wetness dislodged the lump of regret and sloshed it all the way down into the pit of her stomach.

  She had a good life. Maybe not the one she once wanted, but good nevertheless.

  Backing away from the stream, she padded along the path worn by many sleepless nights. Though they had experienced trouble in the recent past, the Walker’s Run territory was generally safe. Sentinels were never more than a howl away, especially inside the wolf sanctuary. But Angeline preferred to stick to the woods behind her home. Easy access to a quiet place to shift and run at a moment’s notice was one reason some unmated Wahyas resided at the Chatuge View Apartments.

  Without any thought to time, Angeline meandered along the winding trail, trying to sort out the mixed feelings Lincoln’s arrival had caused.

  For the period they had dated, not once had Tanner mentioned his interest in the Program. When he’d broken the news, Tanner had even admitted that, deep in his soul, he believed Angeline to be his true mate. But he wanted to be a Dogman more than he wanted her
love.

  Lincoln had also left behind everything he’d known and loved to live the life Tanner had coveted. Facing mandatory retirement, Lincoln was forced to watch his dreams slip through his fingers. Sometimes in his eyes Angeline caught a glimpse of the horrified sadness of seeing all he’d sacrificed for being so easily dismissed.

  He seemed more disappointed than angry, which surprised her. She’d always imagined Dogmen to be selfish, arrogant adrenaline junkies.

  Lincoln displayed none of those traits. It would be better for her if he had. Maybe she wouldn’t have been so drawn to him if he’d acted like a pigheaded jerk.

  Making the turn toward the apartments, Angeline lifted her nose. Lincoln’s scent drifted on the currents. Sensing no advancement in her general direction, she presumed that he must be sitting on his balcony. He would see her coming home, and might even consider that it would be a good idea for them to run the woods together. It wouldn’t be. Other than being neighborly, she should have no interest in the Dogman.

  Her body disagreed. A solid mountain of muscles, Lincoln was as sexy as a wolfan male could be. With a full moon coming, she was tempted to give in to its aphrodisiac effects with him.

  Even in her wolf form, Angeline’s lips warmed and tingled. She’d had her fair share of kisses, but none had stayed with her the way Lincoln’s kiss had.

  The leisurely stroll quickly turned into a fast trot. Despite her mind’s stern attempt to slow the pace, her paws maintained a steady rhythm. Only when she caught a flicker of movement through the bushes ahead did her canter ease to a stop.

  Lincoln removed the long, slender tote slung across his shoulder, peeled off the cover and opened the folding chair. Slipping off his untied boots, he yanked the sweatshirt over his head and dropped it on the ground. The silvery shimmer of moonlight glanced off his sculpted chest. He shook off the cold and unzipped his pants, sliding them from his hips and allowing them to puddle at his bare feet. Or rather, actual bare foot and one artificial.