Page 50 of To Challenge a Wolf

“You’re wrong. She isn’t my—” The word sent danger signals flashing in his brain. He shook his head. “She isn’t.”

“Can you even speak the word, Rhett?”

“I don’t need to. She isn’t.” Off. Turn it off. Shut it down. There. Nothing. Nothing that needed tending to, not in his body and not in his shriveled wolf heart. Nothing.

“You’re sweating.”

Well, then the cabin’s thermostat was wrong. The roomhadgotten awfully hot. Rhett blotted his forehead with his sleeve. “I’m fine. It’s fine. She isn’t.”

“How do you know?”

“Because. Like you said. If she were, I’d know. So she isn’t.”

“Do you not want her to be?”

“I want you to believe me and stop trying to force false hope down my throat.”

Malachi was quiet, but his scent held the tang of urgent concern.

“Don’t,” Rhett said, a low snarl beneath the word despite who he was talking to. “I’m going to try with Vivian, but that’s all it is.”

Malachi stood slowly. He crossed the room to where Rhett stood, all the way in the corner. He set one hand on Rhett’s shoulder. “All right. I’ll give you some time. How are you feeling right now?”

“Fine. Good. Nothing.”

Hot. A fever, running through his veins. He wanted a cool cloth over his eyes. He wanted to be alone in his home, and he wanted Malachi to stay with him. Stay, please. No. Get out. Go away. He focused inward and berated the shriveled remnant of his heart until the fever began to recede. There. See. He was fine.

Meanwhile Malachi wrapped an arm around his shoulders and, by sheer strength, brought him back to his chair and set him in it. Then he crouched in front of Rhett and studied him. A crinkle formed between his eyes and his musky signature took on a note of surprise.

“Already better?”

“Fine,” Rhett said. To prove it, he flashed his teeth with all the cockiness he could muster.

Malachi shook his head, then stood up. “The topic isn’t closed.”

“Don’t know why not. Gave you my answer, and it’s not going to change.”

“I hope you prove yourself wrong.”

“It’s not like you can smell black tea in my essence.” The taunt felt good, stabilizing, a way to bring him back to himself and leave the upheaval of the last minutes behind.

“No,” Malachi said. “But you and I both know that’s not conclusive with you.”

“Well, this time it is.”

Rhett walked him to the door, and Malachi stepped outside into the autumn night, cloudy and starless and cold. The alpha’s breath was visible when he turned back a final time. “Whatever this is, you can come to me if you need to.”

“I don’t.”

“All right.” He nodded, but concern still pulled lines from the corners of his eyes. “Good night.”

“G’night.” Rhett shut the door and leaned against it. He shut his eyes, and instantly Vivian’s face was there. Challenge in her eyes. A smirk on her bow lips. Feminine hourglass beauty in a snug skirt and bold-hued blouse. Equally comfortable in stiletto heels or hiking boots. How he treasured the feel of her in his arms. How he savored her black-tea essence. How he longed to take her as…as his…

No. She wasn’t.

He’d date her for a week. Maybe even longer. Maybe he could do this right, be right for her. But she would never be his in the way a woman could belong to a wolf. He shut the thought down, shut the feeling off. He pushed away from the door. Hours after midnight now. Nothing to do but go to bed.

And dream of her.

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