Page 16 of Operation Wolf: Hunter
CHAPTER 7
Hunter
THE ALARM CLOCK ONthe nightstand buzzed, and I rolled over and slapped it. The digital readout told me it was two a.m., and I gazed blearily at it for a moment before remembering why I’d set it.
Time to check on Sleeping Beauty.
Swinging my legs over the bed, I tugged on the pair of lounge pants I’d packed, considered putting on the matching shirt, and then shrugged. It wasn’t like she’d be able to see me very well in the dark, and I was only waking her up for a brief moment. I hoped like hell she had worn something baggy and shapeless to bed. The last thing I needed was to see her in some flimsy negligee. My cock hardened at the very thought, and I bit the inside of my cheek to counteract the lustful thoughts zipping through my mind. Thoughts I couldn’t attribute entirely to my wolf.
Just don’t lift the damn bedcovers.
I opened the door, and my bare feet hardly made a sound as I crossed the wooden floorboards to Kia’s room at the other end of the hall. I thanked the Lord that Daniel hadn’t built side-by-side—or worse, adjoining—rooms. My wolf would have wanted to take full advantage of that.
Not to interrupt your less-than-chivalrous thoughts of me,my wolf said somewhat snidely,but something’s wrong. Can’t you hear it?
I paused a few feet from Kia’s door, tuning into my senses. A tiny whimper reached my ears—one I should have heard earlier, but I’d been too wrapped up in my internal battle.
“Shit,” I muttered, realizing the sound was coming from Kia’s room.
Is she hurt?
Maybe that blow to the ribs was worse than I and the doctor had thought. I hoped like hell they weren’t actually broken.
Pushing open the door, I stepped into the room to see Kia wrapped up in the sheets, tossing and turning. She whimpered again, a pain-filled sound, but something about it told me that it wasn’t a physical pain causing the sound of distress.
“Please . . .” Kia cried softly. “Please, Mama . . . don’t . . .” she sobbed.
My heart ached at the gut-wrenching noise. Before I could stop myself, I crossed the distance, settling myself onto the bed and gathering her in my arms.
“Shh . . .” I rocked her slowly, stroking her head as she trembled in my arms. Her thick locks slid sensuously along my palm, and I resisted the urge to run my hands through them. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”
“Hunter?” She lifted her head, looking up at me through eyelashes spiked with tears.
The sheet slipped off one shoulder, exposing her sienna-hued skin, and I cursed inwardly.
Damn. She’s naked.
Ignoring the sudden surge of arousal, I looped my arm around her shoulder and pressed her head against my chest, removing her tempting mouth from my line of sight. I knew if she looked up at me like that again, I would kiss her.
“I came in to check on you,” I murmured. I stroked her back, the way one might when comforting a small child, but there was nothing childlike about the smooth curve of her back, even with the sheet I’d hastily pulled back over her. “Bad dreams?”
She nodded against my chest, sucking in a deep breath. Some of the trembling subsided, and I felt a sudden surge of anger.
What the hell happened to her to make her suffer such bad dreams? And about her mother no less?
“Do you want to talk about it?”
She shook her head then slowly pulled back to look at me. Her eyes were luminous in the moonlight streaming in through the open window, and a slight breeze wafted in just then, stirring her locks.
“I want to forget,” she murmured, her eyes sliding half closed as she looked at my mouth. “Please . . . help me forget.”
“I . . .” I knew what she was asking for, and my body burned to satisfy her request. But my mind shouted that it was damn wrong, that I would be taking advantage of her vulnerability, and besides, I would be a fool to get involved with her. “You don’t know what you’re asking . . .”
She cut me off by pressing her lips against mine, and I froze, electricity arcing between us at the light contact. My inner wolf howled in approval, and before I knew it, my arms were around her.
“Ouch . . .” she breathed against my lips.
“Sorry . . . your injuries . . . we need to stop.”
