Page 61 of 2 Books in One Bundle

He watched her, swathed in her damp gown, the ends of her shawl trailing, soft golden curls coming down from her wilting up-do. Not at all the polished bride she’d been in the church, but a more rumpled, sexier and altogether more touchable version of her.

‘I can give you one, though,’ he said, very unwisely. ‘If you want one.’

CHAPTER FOUR

ISLASTILLED.HISVOICEwas soft and very dark and not at all cold. Not this time.

Her heartbeat had accelerated and her cheeks felt hot, the embarrassment at having that ridiculous nightgown spread out on the bed so blatantly lingering.

She’d bought it for herself in a fit of optimism, because despite her misgivings, she thought she should have something sexy and beautiful to wear for her wedding night. Something that her new husband would enjoy too, though she’d expected Gianni to be that husband.

Not Orion North.

She was very conscious of him leaning in the doorway, one shoulder hitched against the doorframe, his gaze on hers. She could still feel the hard warmth of his chest as she’d lain against it on the walk from the helicopter into the lodge.

Being carried by him was the last thing she wanted, especially after those kisses, but he hadn’t given her a choice. Yet the worst thing had been that once she’d found herself in his arms, she hadn’t wanted to leave them. He’d been so very warm and the night had been so cold, and he’d smelled good, that dark, spicy scent of his surrounding her. And all she’d been able to think about was how delicious he’d tasted on the jet and how she wanted more.

You want more than his kiss.

She stared down at the nightgown she’d dropped into the bag at her feet. Her wedding dress felt damp and despite the room’s warmth, she was shivering. But it wasn’t all due to the cold.

Slowly, she turned to look at him.

He hadn’t moved, his tall, powerful figure utterly still. But the glow in his wolf’s eyes stole her breath. He’d looked at her that way back in the church and then just as he was about to kiss her in front of the altar.

He wants you.

A shiver stole through her.

‘Well?’ he prompted softly.

‘A wedding night,’ she said. ‘Is that for me or for yourself?’

His eyes glinted. ‘A very astute question. Let’s just say I wouldn’t be unmoved by it.’

Her mouth felt dry. He was like this in the boardroom meetings she’d been in with him, his posture relaxed, his tone casual. He was a master gambler with a true poker face, never letting a hint of his true thoughts or feelings escape.

A panther lying in wait. A wolf stalking his prey.

He was stalking her now; she could feel it.

That electricity was back as it always was whenever she was near him, humming and crackling over her skin. Maddening, relentless and also wildly exciting.

Why not a wedding night with him? What would you have to lose? Perhaps if you sleep with him, this feeling will finally leave you alone.

A tempting thought and yet so dangerous. Those kisses up in the plane had made the whole world fall away, stoked the flame in her heart, and she was half afraid of what his touch would do to her. Especially when his very presence made her unsettled and angry.

He made her feel volatile and she didn’t like that. Being volatile had caused her so many problems in the past. Because David hadn’t been the first person who’d wanted to adopt her. There had been another couple. They’d already had a son and now longed for a daughter. She’d been ten and thrilled to be given a home, except their son hadn’t been thrilled. He’d hated her from the moment she’d arrived and seemed determined to keep hating her, no matter how friendly she’d been. She hadn’t wanted to upset anything and lose her home and her new-found family, so she’d tried her best to fit in and to not make things difficult.

Her new brother never hurt her, but he consistently made life difficult, breaking things and making messes and blaming them on her. She hadn’t argued. She hadn’t wanted to rock the boat. Yet the unfairness of it burned in her heart. She’d been there six months when one day he scratched his father’s prized new car and told his parents that she’d done it. They’d been angry, unable to understand why she kept doing these things when all they’d done was give her a home. And that day she’d had enough. She’d told them that none of it had been her fault, that he’d scratched the car not her, and that he didn’t like her and he didn’t want her there, and that it wasn’t fair. She’d been so angry.

They hadn’t believed her and they’d called the social workers the next day, telling them to halt the adoption process. That it wasn’t going to work out.

It had hurt. It had hurt to have the family she’d wanted so much snatched away, but she knew she only had herself to blame. Perhaps if she hadn’t said anything, if she’d just kept on accepting the blame it would have been okay. Perhaps that boy would have grown out of taunting her, perhaps he would have grown to like her, but she’d never got the chance to find out, because her anger at the unfairness of it had erupted and turned everything to ashes.

Even now, it still hurt to think of it. The shame of being returned like an unwanted pet, and the frustrated fury at how it had all gone down. Fury at that boy and the adults who hadn’t believed her, and most of all at herself for losing her temper. She shouldn’t have been so caught up in her own feelings that she lost sight of what was important. A family and a place to belong.

But you don’t even have that now though, do you? You never belonged to David or Gianni, and you don’t even belong at Kendricks’. You don’t belong anywhere.

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