A SEAL in Wolf's Clothing

Chapter 10

“Come on,” Anna said to Meara in a rushed tone as Finn disappeared into the hotel lounge. “Let’s go back up to the relative safety of my room. You never know when the real bad guys might show up again.”

“Who was he?” Meara asked, hoping that Anna had learned more about Joe, although maybe not, considering the way he had tied Anna up. She glanced at the lobby door as she pondered asking if Anna was armed and if they could check out the pine tree where the man had been standing.

“Joe’s a deep undercover operative, I figure. On our side—for now.” Anna looked in the direction of the door and said, “What?”

“Are you armed?”

“Yes.” Anna growled her response, and Meara wondered why. Then she realized Imposter Joe probably had disarmed her, and Anna was still sore about it.

“I saw someone outside and thought maybe… I might know him. Would you mind if we took a walk out there and checked?”

Anna gaped at her. “Seriously?” The way Anna said the word revealed her disbelief that Meara would consider anything of the sort. Then Anna raised her chin and narrowed her eyes a little. “He’s not a former lover, is he?”

“Forget it,” Meara said and headed toward the elevators in the hall.

Anna quickly joined her. “Well, is he?” She sounded more curious than annoyed.

“No.”

She and Anna took the elevator to the sixth floor, and Meara appreciated the fact that Anna wasn’t treating her with as much animosity as when they’d first met on the beach. But she got the distinct impression that Anna didn’t like the idea that Meara might have a former lover hanging around outside the hotel.

Anna unlocked her door and pushed it open, then turned to Meara and said, “Why would your friend be here?”

“He might not be. I just wanted to see if it was him.” Meara’s lips parted as she saw the mess Anna’s room was in—the overturned table, the lamp on the floor, and the upset seat cushions on the couch in the living area.

Meara’s phone rang, and her heart seized. She jerked her phone out of her pocket, saw the caller ID, and her heart fluttered—Hunter!

“I’m all right,” she hurried to say, instantly remorseful that she hadn’t called him as soon as she knew she and the others were safe.

“What the hell happened?” His dark voice was strangled with worry.

“A man was following us, but he turned out to be one of the good guys. Well, kind of a good guy.”

He had tied up Anna, and he hadn’t allowed Meara to talk to Hunter to let him know what was going on, and he had kissed her without her permission, which made him kind of not a good guy.

“Let me talk to Finn. You’re not making any sense, Meara.”

“He’s not here,” she said, exasperated.

“You’re alone?”

She envisioned Hunter wringing Finn’s neck. “No. He’s talking to the guy in the lounge downstairs. Anna’s here with me in her hotel suite. Anna Johnson. I’m okay, all right?”

Silence.

Knowing he wasn’t going to let this slide until he had every detail of what had happened, although no way was she going to mention to him or anyone else that Joe had kissed her, Meara let out her breath with a heavy sigh. “Hunter? I’m all right.”

“Who is he? Why did you hang up on me?”

“He wouldn’t let me talk to you and ended our call. Anna says she thinks he works as a deep undercover operative.”

“Hell. You were alone? With him?”

“I was with him in the lobby. Full of people.”

Anna smiled at Meara’s little white lie.

“I didn’t hear anyone conversing in the background, Meara. It’s late there. The damned place was probably empty. Don’t cover for him. Where was Finn?”

Meara should have realized that with his wolf’s hearing, Hunter would have known the truth. “Finn was making sure Anna was safe,” Meara said.

“Hell, he knows better than to leave you by yourself. I’m returning home on the next flight out of here.”

“No! Hunter, you can’t. It’s your honeymoon. Enjoy it with Tessa. I’m fine. Anna’s with me, and Finn will be back any minute. I won’t hear of your ending your honeymoon over this. Stay there!”

Anna was chuckling to herself.

“Got to go, Hunter. It’s late. Kiss Tessa for me, won’t you?” Meara quickly said.

“Don’t. Hang. Up. On. Me. Meara.”

“’Night!” She ended the call, her pulse pounding.

She was certain he’d have words with her over this as soon as he came home. Then again, by the time he returned, his anger would have settled. She imagined Tessa would help calm him, too. At least Meara hoped she would.

Anna turned away, but not before Meara saw a glimmer of a smile on her lips. She was probably used to Hunter being in total charge and expected his sister to bow down to him like so many people did. Anna probably hadn’t expected Meara to tell him what to do. Meara knew Hunter would call Finn next and give him hell about what had happened. She almost felt sorry for Finn, but she figured he was used to it and could stand up for himself.

“Did the man hurt you?” she asked Anna, wanting to think of something other than how angry her brother was.

“A bruise here or there, I’m sure,” Anna said as she and Meara began righting the table and lamp. “A little roughhousing never hurt anyone, if neither was trying to kill the other.”

“Weren’t you? Trying to kill him, I mean?”

“Nah. At first, I reacted pretty violently, figuring he intended to kill me, and I planned to do it to him first. But I could tell by the way he forced me down, countering all my lethal moves with blocking maneuvers and attempting not to hurt me, that he didn’t intend to harm me permanently. At least I didn’t think so.”

“But he tied you up.” Meara righted the couch cushions.

“With… nothing that hurt. And he was trying to keep me from injuring him. I imagine he’ll have a few bruises, but our werewolf genes heal them quickly.” Anna grinned at her and headed for the bedroom.

Meara followed her in there. Anna probably considered the confrontation between herself and Imposter Joe to be nothing more than a good workout.

Meara stared at the two pairs of black sheer panty-hose lying in a pile on the bed and the black silk scarf near the footboard. “He tied you up with your own clothes?” But not just with Anna’s own clothes. With her sexy, sheer panty hose.

Anna grabbed them and threw them in her suitcase, which was lying on the floor on the other side of the bed. Anna’s clothes were strewn all over the pale blue carpet.

“I wasn’t easy on him when he tried to confine me. We usually go into a situation packing light. If we can, we use the other’s possessions like this so we don’t leave any evidence behind.” Anna began to gather her clothes: black lace panties, black leather miniskirt, strapless black heels, and a black negligee.

Meara would have thought Anna was goth because of all the black clothes, but she didn’t have any piercings or heavy makeup, and her hair was a rich auburn color. Not that werewolves would have any piercings or wear heavy makeup. It just wasn’t done. Meara could just imagine seeing one panting as a wolf—the only way to cool off since wolves don’t sweat—with a miniature diamond barbell centered on the wolf’s tongue.

That would be easy to explain to a hunter if one caught a werewolf in wolf form. Not.

Meara’s gaze swung back to Anna, and she asked, “Did you… knee him in the crotch?”

Meara had intended to, or at least to swing her leg up between his to incapacitate him, until he’d kissed her and turned her to stone.

Anna harrumphed in a dark way. “Tried to, but he was damned quick and seemed to know what I was going to do before I attempted to retaliate.”

Just like he seemed to know what Meara was thinking when she worried he might hold a gun on her and try to force her outside.

“Did you try to knee him in the crotch?” Anna asked, her brows raised.

Meara felt her face grow warm, which irritated her. She wasn’t about to tell Anna that Joe had kissed her and that she hadn’t done anything about it, like slap him or something. At the same time, she hadn’t kissed him back.

“Hmm,” Anna said, as if she’d just witnessed some deep, dark secret. The intense gaze of a wolf gave others the impression he or she had the ability to see into a person’s soul—and right now, Meara felt as though Anna had done just that.

Anna finished resettling her clothes neatly in her bag and then set it on the luggage rack. “He didn’t catch your interest, did he?” This time she eyed Meara with suspicion.

Was it because Anna was drawn to Joe and worried he might have a thing for Meara? Or was she concerned that Finn might be hurt if Meara threw him over for Joe?

“Of course not,” Meara said too quickly and way too vehemently. Hell, she figured both Joe and Finn were in the same line of work, one where they wouldn’t settle down and take mates. Anna didn’t need to worry about her interest in either man.

“No,” Meara said again, and wished she hadn’t as Anna eyed her speculatively.

Anna pulled the desk chair around and sat down on it while motioning for Meara to sit on the end of the bed. “So then what exactly did happen between the two of you?”

Finn had expected to discover that Joe had slipped out a back door through the kitchen of the hotel lounge, but following the man’s scent, Finn found him sitting at a booth in the lounge, watching for him.

Or most likely not for him, but for Meara. Damn it to hell. She had been headed in this direction, following the operative and unconcerned about her own safety, most likely hoping to learn more about him so she could share her findings with Finn. Her impulsiveness would be the death of him.

He blew out his breath and stalked toward the booth. He should have known she wouldn’t stay put in the lobby like he’d told her to do. He should have left her at the safe house.

“I was expecting someone else,” Joe said with a half smile, lifting a beer in greeting. His expression was pure predatory wolf, and Finn had to reign in his combative nature before he took out the bastard.

Finn had seen the way Joe had seemed fascinated with Meara at her cabin, and Joe hadn’t hidden his animosity for Finn, either. He wouldn’t easily forget that the man had stuck his hand in Meara’s pocket, letting her know he was doing so as he left a bug there.

“She’s not coming,” Finn said abruptly.

“I gathered that when you showed up instead.” Joe motioned with his free hand for Finn to join him, although Finn wasn’t waiting for an invitation.

“At Meara’s place, you told her that you didn’t drink,” Finn said, letting Joe know he’d had an eye on him the whole time he’d been in her house.

“I lied. Some women are wary of a man who drinks.”

True enough. Sliding into the booth, Finn asked, “Who are you, and what’s your business?”

“Bjornolf Jorgensen…” He bowed his head slightly. “…at your service.” He gave Finn a look of conceited satisfaction when he saw Finn’s expression change to instant awareness.

“Bjornolf,” Finn said under his breath. Bear-wolf. The person known by that name served as a deep undercover operative, although many thought the man was a legend or a myth rather than someone real. No one was sure who the man really worked for. And he rarely revealed his identity. Many thought that those who bragged about knowing him were telling tales.

“That’s me.” Bjornolf waited for Finn to ask something further, then seeming to remember that Finn had asked what he was doing here, he added, “I’m here to watch your backs.”

“Ours,” Finn said softly.

“Yours, since you’re here, and Hunter’s sister’s.”

“And the others on the team?”

“They were merely a distraction.”

Finn narrowed his eyes. “The assassin nearly killed Allan Rappaport. How is that nothing more than a distraction?”

Bjornolf shrugged. “Fatalities can cause a pretty good distraction.”

Finn’s phone buzzed and he looked at it, noting that Hunter was calling. Finn hoped he wasn’t having trouble in Hawaii—the only reason he could think of for Hunter calling at this hour. He lifted the phone to his ear and asked, “Hunter, can I call you back?”

“What the hell happened, and who’s the guy you’re talking to?”

How in the hell had Hunter gotten word about this already? Meara had to have called him.

Finn studied the man sitting across from him and said to Hunter, “I’m talking with Bjornolf Jorgensen.” He figured Hunter would be just as surprised since the man rarely revealed himself to anyone. Finn wondered who Bjornolf was working for now. “I’ll call you back in a bit. Meara’s safe with Anna Johnson.”

“Call me back ASAP,” Hunter said, his tone short and angry, and hung up on him.

Finn knew Hunter was incensed about the way he had handled the situation with Meara and Anna. It wasn’t the first time Hunter hadn’t liked the way Finn dealt with a situation, nor would it be the last. But there were times when Finn had felt the same way about Hunter’s handling of a mission.

Bjornolf was watching him with an amused expression, and Finn wanted to wipe the arrogant look off his face. Bjornolf was the whole reason Finn would have words with Hunter over this mess. “What if I send Meara to Hawaii to join Hunter?” Finn asked.

Without hesitation, Bjornolf said, “They’ll go after her there.”

Finn couldn’t believe it. “Why her?”

“She’s Hunter’s sister.”

Finn scowled at the operative. “I already got that part. But why go after Meara?” he repeated.

“You would have all been dead on your last mission if it hadn’t been for Meara. Didn’t you know that? That’s what this sick bastard intended. But when Meara thwarted him, he vowed revenge. At least I assume that’s the case.

“The fires that burned down Meara and Hunter’s home and those of their pack members? Who do you think set them? Neither Meara nor Hunter were supposed to have escaped that. As luck would have it, the winds were in Meara and Hunter and their pack’s favor. After Hunter and his pack relocated to the Oregon coast, they ran into all kinds of trouble. On top of that, a red pack leader named Leidolf was poking his nose into their business. The man in charge waited for a more opportune time to strike again—a time when fewer pack leaders could cause him trouble.”

Finn straightened taller. “Did Hunter know the fire was set on purpose by someone out to get them?”

“Yes. But he didn’t let Meara know it. Several in the know have been investigating, trying to find a link to the arsonists.”

Finn scowled at Bjornolf. “Meara should have been told. How did Hunter think she could protect herself if she wasn’t aware of the danger to them both?”

“None of us thought it would be carried any further. Possibly it had just been a way of getting back at them. Destroying their homes. Hunter’s pack even mutinied. Quite effectively, the arsonist wreaked havoc on Hunter and his pack, more so than if he’d just eliminated Hunter and Meara. But then, maybe the arsonist didn’t believe they’d been punished enough. Maybe he saw how nicely Hunter and Meara were doing in their new home in Oregon, how Hunter had located a mate and Meara was happily looking for one through renting the cabins.”

“Hell,” Finn said, rubbing his chin and feeling a shadow of a beard making its appearance because of the late hour. He wanted to know what was going on, but he still felt apprehensive about leaving Meara alone, despite Anna being with her.

“As soon as Hunter flew off on his honeymoon, we figure the man in charge made his move, striking at Allan as a distraction, figuring you and Paul would go to his aid and assume he was after the team. Hunter was already out of the picture. I’m sure the head honcho never considered any of you would think to protect Meara. She wasn’t part of the SEAL team.

“Even I was surprised to see you join her here. Thinking none of you would consider Meara as a possible target, I came here. To protect her. Then here you are, claiming the territory for your own—both the land and the woman.” At that revelation, Bjornolf looked and sounded annoyed.

Momentarily stupefied, Finn stared at him. Bjornolf had to be either highly misinformed about their mission and how Meara fit into the scheme of things or pulling his leg. But worse, he wondered just what lengths Bjornolf had planned to go to while protecting Meara. Pretend he truly was Joe Matheson, a guest, interested in finding a mate?

Until he’d discovered Finn had beaten him to it. Well, not as a guest interested in finding a mate, but as her close protection. “They haven’t caught the arsonist who set the fires in the redwoods, but you’re sure he’s connected to Allan’s attack?”

Bjornolf took another swig of his beer, set the mug down, and leaned back against his seat. “No, the arsonist hasn’t been apprehended. But the threat to their lives is too coincidental not to be suspect. Particularly when Allan was hit next.”

Still not believing that Meara could have saved them in any way, shape, or form, Finn said, “Meara had nothing to do with our missions.”

Bjornolf gave a dark laugh. “Oh, really. She fought with Hunter over every job he went on, worried that she’d lose her twin brother and her pack leader at the same time. She berated you every time you returned with Hunter, thinking you were the one who got the contracts for the missions after your team left the Navy.”

Hell, how long had Bjornolf been watching the team behind the scenes? Then a darker thought occurred to Finn. Just how long had he been watching Meara?

Bjornolf continued, “She’s not the sweet little innocent that you think she is. She’s devious, if she thinks she might be able to save Hunter from harm.” A gleam shown in Bjornolf’s darkened eyes. “Or possibly you know that already. She tends to leap into a frothing river to rescue someone from drowning before fully thinking the situation over.”

So, he even knew about that incident in Meara’s past. Finn’s mind raced over the events of the past, of their final doomed mission, the explosive devices that had been tampered with, and Meara’s angry words over their operations. Sure, she was impetuous and would face down danger to protect those in need. But she couldn’t have been involved in their final assignment or any other. Their assignments were classified.

He stared at Bjornolf. “I don’t believe you.”

Bjornolf shrugged. “Believe what you will.”

Finn didn’t like it. He didn’t want to believe Meara had had anything to do with their last mission, that she might have saved their lives, that she could have been endangered because of it, and that she might now be in danger because of something she had done. Was it inadvertent?

He couldn’t believe it.

Bjornolf finished his beer. “If she wasn’t so headstrong, she’d make a good operative. But she’s too stubborn and way too impulsive. She’d be a team all unto her own and happy for it.”

Finn could call her stubborn and too impulsive, and often thought that of her, but he didn’t like Bjornolf doing so. He knew she loved being part of a pack and wasn’t a loner in the least. But he thought Bjornolf was right about her being her own one-man team. She did not take orders well. And for the most part, she didn’t seem to give them, either. So in that regard, she seemed to run the show all on her own, not waiting for anyone else to help.

“What’s your interest in her?” Finn asked gruffly, wanting to get the truth out in the open.

“Suffice it to say I like my women like that.”

His voice low and cold, Finn said, “You leave her alone.”

Bjornolf gave an irritated grunt. “Why? Are you going to settle down and take her as a mate? The great adventurer? The savior of lost causes? She needs someone who warms her bed at night, keeps her content and happy. She’s not the one for you.”

“You think you’re the one for her? Hell, you’re cut from the same cloth as me, from what I’ve heard.”

“Ah,” Bjornolf said, waving away the waitress who’d noticed his mug was empty. “I’ve been thinking of settling down.” He cast Finn a wry smile.

“Like hell you are.” Finn didn’t believe the man. From everything he’d heard, the operative was a loner who preferred undercover work. Settling down wasn’t in the picture.

Then Bjornolf’s expression turned icy. “I was supposed to be watching your backs on your last mission, but I was surprised as hell when Meara got involved, and I missed doing my job. You can’t imagine how much that bothered me when a woman—a civilian—distracted me. Nothing like that has ever happened to me before. I’ve been pondering what occurred for these past few months. Maybe there’s something to the way she sidetracked me so thoroughly. What do you think?”

Finn wasn’t sure what to think, wondering if Bjornolf was just leading him on and trying to rile him over Meara. Maybe get him to reveal how intrigued he was with the woman.

Bjornolf didn’t wait for Finn to respond but added, “I regret that the mission was botched and everyone but you was injured in the process.”

Finn raised a brow and Bjornolf chuckled evilly. “I didn’t mean that as it sounded. I was glad you weren’t injured, but no one else should have been hurt, either. I’m not going to let any harm come to her because I owe that to Hunter and to Meara.”

Finn was glad to have Bjornolf on their side—as long as he didn’t try to seduce Meara—but he wondered about the other Joe they’d seen at the morgue. “Did you kill the man near Meara’s house?”

“Yeah. Took his identity before he arrived. He was pretending to rent one of the cabins, but that wasn’t his identity, either. When he spied me heading for the blue cabin to lie in wait for his arrival—assuming whoever had paid for the contract would eventually learn where Hunter and Meara were—he tried to fire a round at me, and I threw him off the cliff. He still got a couple of rounds off as he made his backward dive. His gun must have found a watery grave.”

For that, Finn was grateful. “No evidence of any foul play.”

Bjornolf gave Finn a sly smile. “That’s what they pay me for. Getting rid of assassins without leaving any trace of wrongdoing.” He leaned back in his seat and changed the focus. “The woman working with you isn’t half bad.”

Not sure what Bjornolf’s intentions were concerning Anna, Finn scowled at him. Anna could handle herself, but Finn still didn’t like that Bjornolf had bested her and then was talking about her like she was someone he might pursue as a side hobby.

Bjornolf added, “She did a good job of taking out the assassin that I’d lost while I tailed another.”

“But you still bested her in her hotel room.”

Bjornolf chuckled. “She’s dangerous. Has killer knees. If I hadn’t moved quickly enough, I’d be singing soprano.”

At that, Finn almost smiled, knowing from workout sessions with her just how dangerous her knees could be. Thankfully, he’d managed to outmaneuver her at every turn. But he still didn’t know Bjornolf’s intentions toward either Anna or Meara. And that bothered him.

“Why has the bastard waited six months to take revenge?” Finn asked.

“For one, he hasn’t waited that long. The fire, remember? And for another, I believe he was injured during the incident when your team was hit or out of the country. Or both. So that slowed him down a bit. Not only that, but some take their time planning revenge. Maybe he’s not the kind who jumps into a situation without mapping every move. Who really knows?”

Finn mulled that over, then nodded. “So what now?”

“Let your female operative know—”

“Anna,” Finn said, perturbed.

Bjornolf smiled a little. “…Anna know that I’m on your side. As much as she fought me, I didn’t figure she’d believe anything I had to say. As for Meara, I’ll be behind the scenes, watching over her.”

“All right.” Finn rose, but Bjornolf remained seated. “Paul will be here shortly,” Finn said, half in warning. Paul wouldn’t like Bjornolf anymore than he did.

Bjornolf pulled out a twenty. “Hell, that’s what these guys want. The team all back together in one place, easier to hit.”

Finn cast him a thin smile. “Maybe that’s how we need to take them out. Do you know who they are?”

“If I knew that, I wouldn’t be sitting here chatting with you. I’d have taken out the one responsible, and without a buyer, no more deals.”

“The Knight of Swords,” Finn said under his breath.

Bjornolf gave him a solemn nod. “He’s the one. Whoever he is.”

Finn was surprised to find Meara sitting cross-legged on Anna’s bed in her hotel room while Anna leaned back in a chair, feet propped up on the mattress, as if the two had been pajama-party buddies for years. Not that either of them was wearing PJs, but that’s what this reminded him of. The thought of seeing Meara in her pajama shorts set stirred him up all over again.

With a ragged breath, he explained as much as he could to Anna with Meara listening in. He told them who Joe really was, and when Anna’s eyes grew huge, he turned to Meara and said, “Bjornolf gets rid of assassins, leaving no trace, making it look as though they died of natural causes. At least that’s one of his jobs. No one really knows who he works for or what else he does. But I will tell you that his name means ‘bear-wolf.’ And from what I’ve heard, he earned the name for a reason. He’s not one to tangle with unless you know what you’re doing.”

Meara looked sufficiently shocked, and he thought—and hoped—she wouldn’t pay Bjornolf any attention now that she knew what he did for a living, if that was Bjornolf’s intention. But Finn was beginning to wonder if hiding his real objective was part of Bjornolf’s chameleon persona. Finn noted that Anna appeared just as surprised to learn who “Joe” was, and he thought she wouldn’t see anything good in the man now, either.

Having covertly made eye contact with Finn, Anna looked as though she wanted to talk privately about something. From the way she wouldn’t sequester him in the living area of her suite, he assumed the something was about Meara. He wondered what Meara had done now. Finn had given Anna ample opportunity to speak with him privately, but she didn’t seem to want to alert Meara that she needed to talk to him about her. Hell.

When Anna still didn’t say anything about it, he finally decided to call it a night. Whatever it was couldn’t be too bad, or Anna would have made more of an effort to speak with him secretly.

Feeling smug about Bjornolf not having a chance at seducing the women, he said good night to Anna, knowing Paul would arrive momentarily and watch her back as she did his. The time had come to take Meara back to the safe house. He assumed they’d have a tail, Bjornolf again, only Finn didn’t plan to try and lose him this time. But he damn well wanted to know what was bothering Anna.

Meara was quiet on the drive back. He figured she was frazzled and tired, so he didn’t push the issue of her following Bjornolf to the lounge when he’d instructed her to stay in the lobby.

But when they arrived back at the safe house and Meara went straight to the kitchen to grab a stash of graham crackers, chocolate, and marshmallows, he studied her in surprise.

“What are you doing, Meara?” Finn figured as late as it was and as little sleep as they’d had, she’d want to return to bed. Like he did. He hadn’t planned to do anything more than hold her close, thank the merciful heavens that she and Anna were safe for the time being, and sleep.

He had every intention of questioning Meara about the SEALs’ last mission the next morning after they’d both had sufficient sleep. He wanted to learn how she had become involved and what exactly she’d done that none of them had known of.

“I’m having some more s’mores,” Meara said matter-of-factly and pulled open the door to the deck. “You and Bjornolf and Anna worried me sick. I need some chocolate to help me get back to sleep.” She sounded drained by the experience as she left the house and walked down the wooden stairs to the beach.

Finn stared after her for a moment, then shook his head and followed her. There was no figuring women—especially this woman.

He’d never paid much attention to a woman walking on a beach before, but when he reached the sand and saw the way Meara was trying to navigate through the sifting particles and the way her hips were swaying, he found himself mesmerized. She soon broke the spell when she turned and motioned to the fire pit.

“Why don’t you start the fire? I’ll hold on to the fixings.” She possessively held the packages to her breast, and he noted again how beautiful but tired she looked.

He wasn’t used to a woman giving him orders, and he would have preferred that she tell him to carry her off to bed, rather than start a fire and roast more marshmallows. But he silently did what she’d requested.

His thoughts slipped to what Bjornolf had said concerning how she’d saved their lives, and despite the hour, Finn couldn’t wait for morning to have this discussion. If they’d gone to bed, that would have been another story. He started the fire, then glanced over at Meara as she settled on the bench, quietly observing the ocean, her expression one of peace, tendrils of dark curls tickling her cheeks in the cool breeze.

She looked at home on the beach with the pine trees behind her rising on the hillside and stretching ponderously over the house. When he’d seen her in the redwoods of California, he’d thought she was at home there as well. He realized then that she was the kind of woman who suited the great outdoors, no matter what the environment. Well, maybe not the desert. He couldn’t see her living there.

Unless it was a desert island. And he was shipwrecked on it with her. But there wouldn’t be any s’mores to share with her then. Oysters could work wonders, though.

He sighed. His need to know what had happened during their last mission nagged at him, and he wanted to ask her what she’d done to save Hunter and the rest of the men. Yet for an instant, he didn’t want to spoil the moment. He had to ask her, though.

He cleared his throat, drawing her attention. “Meara, Bjornolf said you saved our lives on our last mission.”

Her eyes widened, and then she smiled a little. “How’d he know I made my special homemade soup for the rest of the guys after Hunter and the others were injured? Did you know that family recipe had been passed down for generations? It works, though. It truly helps to encourage healing.”

Soup?

Finn reached for the bag of marshmallows and skewered a couple. “I thought he meant something more… directly related to the mission.”

“Like what?” She snorted. “I didn’t even know where you were going to be.” She frowned. “What did Bjornolf say I did?”

“He said you saved us. That we would have all been dead if it hadn’t been for you.”

Meara looked back out to sea. “He’s making it up.”

Finn thought he saw a niggling worry line etched across her forehead. Maybe from trying to recall something that might have happened. Had she done something inadvertently and didn’t even realize what she’d done?

“Maybe it seemed insignificant to you at the time, but it was really important. Can you remember anything to do with that last mission?” Finn asked.

“Yeah. I fought with Hunter. I was going out with this guy…”

Finn couldn’t help that he was scowling. What did he care about some guy she was dating?

She frantically waved at the marshmallows. “Hey! You’re burning them!”

“Hell.” He shook them off the stick into the sand, the marshmallows covered in flames and the white quickly turning black. Concentrating on the task at hand, he poked two fresh marshmallows on the stick.

“Hunter didn’t care for the guy,” Meara continued.

Finn didn’t want to hear this. He was certain he wouldn’t have cared for the guy either, no matter who he was. But what did that have to do with their mission? Since she seemed focused on that instead of with his real question, he might as well let her get it out of her system first. “Was he wolf or human?”

“Wolf.”

Finn tried to appear neutral, despite not liking that she was seeing wolves, assuming she wouldn’t want to talk about it with him if he seemed to feel the same way as Hunter.

She concentrated on the marshmallows. “Don’t burn them this time.”

“Why didn’t Hunter like this guy?” Hunter’s instincts had always been good about keeping Meara from making a mistake so Finn trusted Hunter’s judgment over hers. He wondered if she actively sought problem males just to provoke Hunter.

“Here, let me have the marshmallows. Your mind is elsewhere.” She pulled off the melted ones and let him have them. “Next two are mine.” She poked the marshmallows on the stick, her fingers inadvertently sliding down the length, and he thought of how she had wanted to put her hand on him earlier that evening and stroke him like he’d stroked her.

He closed his eyes and shook the notion loose, then looked back at her and prompted, “He didn’t like this guy you wanted to date. Why?”

“He never liked any of the guys I wanted to see, Finn. Period. None of them were good enough for me, so he said.”

“He was right, too, wasn’t he?”

She grunted and sandwiched the chocolate and the gooey marshmallow between the graham crackers. “He wouldn’t like you seeing me in that way either, you know.”

Finn snorted. “We’re not talking about me. Why did Hunter not like this guy in particular?”

“It was right when you were going on your last mission. Hunter was adamant that I not see the man while he was away. He was afraid something might happen between us, and he wouldn’t be able to stop it before it was too late. I wasn’t planning on mating the guy, just dating him.

“It wouldn’t have mattered who he was, at least I don’t believe so. All he had to be was an unmated alpha male and that was it. Hunter…” She sucked the marshmallow and chocolate off her fingers, one after another. “…had an uncanny ability to know when someone wasn’t right for me. Or at least he thought he had. I really think he was wrong about this guy. That’s all.”

Finn stared at the way she sucked her fingers, wanting to be the one licking them, and then at her lips, thinking of how he’d kissed her in the sand and wanting to repeat the performance.

But damn it, he was not a moonstruck teen. And he had to get his raging testosterone under control. “What happened between you and the guy?”

“Nothing. He left. I figured that Hunter must have had words with him, and I never heard from him again.”

All right. Finn could see Hunter doing that. And anyone who wasn’t alpha enough would have backed down, tucked tail, and left. “What happened between you and Bjornolf at Anna’s hotel?”

“What do you mean?”

Her question struck Finn as odd. Why not say nothing had happened? If nothing had occurred between them.

She was watching Finn with an alpha’s challenging gaze, but he swore her armor had slipped when he heard the nearly imperceptible hitch in her voice and observed the way she stood a little straighter, stiffening her back, the way her eyes were wide with feigned innocence, as if she was hiding a guilty conscience.

Hell. “He was seated in a booth in the lounge, drinking a beer and waiting for you. Why?”

Meara looked genuinely surprised. “He said he didn’t drink.”

Taken aback by her response, Finn paused. “He said he lied,” he growled. And that was not what Finn was concerned about.

Her lips were parted in a way that offered an invitation to a kiss—at least to his way of thinking. Then she smiled a little. Finn frowned at her.

She shrugged. “I thought he’d left through the lounge and was headed outside to his vehicle. I was going to look through a window and would have gotten his license-plate number and then shared it with you. I never expected him to be waiting for me in the lounge. He had to have known you and Anna would come soon for me. I don’t know what kind of a game he was playing.”

“He stuck his hand in your pocket and felt you up.” He couldn’t help still being irritated by Bjornolf’s earlier action.

“He put a bug in there,” she countered, her face reddening slightly.

“You felt his hand on your ass, Meara.” He couldn’t help the frustration he felt at Bjornolf’s luring her toward the lounge and her plan to follow him blindly into the dark recesses.

Would she have had a drink with Bjornolf, if Finn hadn’t arrived as soon as he did? A couple of drinks? Would she have left with him if he had promised to keep her safe?

“Well?” Finn challenged, wanting to know what the hell she’d been thinking. She was just like Hunter had said she was—impulsive and putting herself in danger when it wasn’t warranted.

“He kissed me, too, damn it! So what?” Meara froze after the words spilled from her lips.