A SEAL in Wolf's Clothing

Chapter 7

Meara had expected super-espionage spy stuff—locked doors, lights out, and whispered voices—as the dark gripped the cliffside home. Instead, she was sitting on a bench on the private beach, heating up marshmallows on a metal skewer while chocolate melted on graham crackers over the fire.

She and Finn had passed a gas grill situated on flagstones nearby, and she thought how much fun it would be to eat a romantic dinner ocean side, something she hadn’t done since she’d moved to Oregon. Not that Finn would be the one she wished to eat that kind of a dinner with. A dinner like that should be a purely romantic affair, reserved for someone who suited her as a mate.

Yet she enjoyed the old-fashioned, roughing-it fire pit. The heat from the flames and the way the ribbons of fire licked at the air in oranges and reds made her feel closer to nature than if they were cooking on a grill.

The dark waves rolled in, clashing with the rocks and sandy beach in a melodic roar while the sea breeze whipped her hair about. She pulled it back and wound it into a knot, although misbehaving tendrils escaped confinement and tickled her cheeks. She watched Finn roasting the first of the marshmallows, two on the skewer initially, and her stomach rumbled with delicious anticipation. She hadn’t had s’mores in several years, and they brought back memories of hikes in the woods and backpacking to forested areas inaccessible any other way.

Even though she loved to camp, she and her pack mates had usually stuck to fishing as wolves and had hunted for wild blackberries and currants on outings like this. Strictly nature’s provisions. Not graham crackers and marshmallows and chocolate. But one time her mother had sneaked the ingredients for s’mores into her pack, and Meara would never forget how much fun she’d had with the others when they’d fought over the last one.

She had to force herself to sit still on the bench and not lick her lips more than she’d already done, or to show just how interested she was in crunching down on that first mouthful of melted chocolate and marshmallow sandwiched between graham crackers.

Finn glanced over at her and smiled. “Won’t be much longer now.”

Did she look as eager as she felt? Or was he just guessing?

He slid the marshmallow onto the graham cracker and partially melted chocolate and handed it to her. “See what you think.”

While she eagerly ate hers, not feeling any remorse that she got to sample the decadent dessert first, he fixed her another.

“What about yours?” she asked, still savoring every bite of s’more. She was in heaven, which almost made her forget she would have been trying to learn more about a potential mate tonight, if not for Finn’s untimely arrival and news about an assassin. “Oh,” she moaned with ecstasy. “Forget I intimated anything about you having the next one. That one’s mine. You can have the next several.” She reached to take the next one he’d fixed for her while he roasted a couple of new marshmallows.

When she looked up from taking another delicious bite, she found him watching her and not his marshmallows skewered over the fire. He smiled, the flames glistening off his eyes and making them glow green like a wolf’s at night when light reflected off them. She’d never pictured him like this, cooking marshmallows over a campfire. Skinning and eating a snake, yes, as any survivalist might in a dire predicament. But s’mores? No.

She smiled.

“What?” he asked, sandwiching his own s’more, although he waved it at her in case she wanted another before he got one.

Admiring him for being so generous, she motioned for him to eat it. “You’ll think I’m a little piggy instead of a wolf.”

He laughed. “The way you’re eyeing the s’mores makes me think you’ve been deprived for way too long.”

“Hmm, I have been. I couldn’t see you making them, either.”

“What did you think I did at campouts? Strictly clambakes?”

“Grilled snake,” she said, trying to keep a straight face. He grinned, and she laughed and then shrugged. “I thought all SEALs were hard core. I never thought one would make s’mores during a dangerous mission.”

He sat next to her, leaned over, and licked her lips.

She sat stock still, staring at him in astonishment.

“No sense in letting the chocolate go to waste,” he said, winking. He was sitting so close to her on the bench that their legs touched.

Heat from the fire and from him touching her started a slow burn, warming her to the core. His actions might have been innocent enough, just leaning in close and licking the sweet chocolate off her mouth, but she sure as hell felt like something more was going on between them. Especially after he’d nearly made her come an hour or so earlier in his car when he was frisking her between her spread legs with the listening-device detector. And earlier still, when he’d thrown her to her bedroom floor when they thought they’d heard gunshots. He had protected her with his towel-covered body, but then lost the towel in the action-packed moment and then became hard as a steel rod as she squirmed to get free.

She thought again about what he’d told Hunter, that he saw her in a brotherly way. Right. Yet she didn’t move away from him, seeking a safe distance, either.

The chill in the night air made her shiver, and she instinctively inched closer to Finn, seeking both the heat from his body and his protection from the breeze. She’d thought she might be walking along the beach with Joe tonight, if he hadn’t said he’d known Hunter and turned out to be an imposter. But she’d never expected to be snuggling up to one of Hunter’s SEAL mates and devouring melted chocolate-marshmallow creations beside him.

She glanced up and saw that his lips had remnants of chocolate and a couple of specks of marshmallow. She wanted to lick the chocolate and marshmallow off his lips, but she resisted. He watched her, and she suspected he knew just what she’d thought of doing.

Before she did anything stupid, she motioned for him to get back to cooking her marshmallows. “Some more.”

He laughed in a deeply seductive way and then skewered another couple of marshmallows. “Hunter didn’t tell me you had a real sweet tooth.”

“Hmm, I’m sure Hunter didn’t tell you a whole lot about me.”

A smile lingered on Finn’s lips as he turned away to watch the marshmallows melting, browning over the fire, and almost ready to eat.

“Well, he didn’t, did he? I mean, maybe that I’m strong-willed.”

Finn took a deep breath. “He told us you saved a human girl once who had fallen into a swollen river. Nearly drowned yourself in the process. And another time, you took on a pack of hunters who were killing deer out of season. That you chased a purse snatcher, faced down the knife he was armed with, and still got the woman’s purse back intact without getting sliced to ribbons.”

“It was instinctive.” Meara didn’t care for the way Finn was looking at her, just like Hunter would when he thought she’d done something foolhardy. She was a werewolf, and that meant she reacted instinctively. Well, because she was an alpha werewolf. A beta probably wouldn’t have.

At least Hunter hadn’t known about most of the situations she’d gotten involved in because he was away on missions, either serving in the Navy or working on contracts after that. She just wasn’t the type of woman who could stand by and hope someone else would step in and save the day.

“I don’t want you doing that here. While I’m protecting you, no heroics.”

“Unless you’re the one who’s being heroic,” she said.

“That’s my job. I’m trained for it. So yeah, let me take care of the bad guys, if the time comes.”

She smiled. “Suit yourself.” But if Finn needed her help, she was not going to sit back and watch as if she was observing a gladiator fight and was strictly a spectator.

He looked like he didn’t believe her. “I mean it, Meara.”

If that didn’t sound just like Hunter! “I heard you the first time.”

“Yeah, but you have that intense look that says you’re not going to mind.”

She didn’t respond, watching the shape of his mouth as it closed over the last bite of his s’more.

This time when he finished it, she boldly reached up and licked the chocolate off his lips. She could be just as brash as he was.

Only she didn’t expect his next move. She ended up flat on her back in the sand as he maneuvered on top of her, devouring her lips, licking and kissing and gently biting as if he wanted to eat her all up. Ohmigod, she’d created a monster!

His hands slid up her silky blouse, the palms massaging her breasts with such finesse that she moaned against his mouth. His tongue entered her mouth, probing firmly, his fingers tweaking her nipples, her crotch wet with desire. This so wasn’t happening.

Yet it was. And damned if she hadn’t wanted it, too, from the first time she’d seen him leaving her bathroom, naked and towel-drying his hair.

Now, he was so aroused that his stiff penis poked at her waist, his body thrusting at her as if it had a will of its own. She knew if she was naked now, he’d be inside her in a flash. She had the insane desire to let him in, to open herself up to his primal urges, to tame the sexy beast.

But that meant a permanent mating, and no way in hell were they going there.

He groaned and collapsed onto her. “You’re not supposed to look or taste or feel this damned good,” he said, his mouth brushing her throat, his thumbs still working magic on her swollen nipples. “Or encourage me the way you do.” He shoved her blouse up, and then her bra, and nuzzled a nipple first with his mouth, then licked and kissed it. The cold breeze swept across it, making it tingle and ache with need even more as he licked and sucked on the other.

He was so incredibly hot as she ran her hands through his hair and savored the feel of his body thrusting against hers, making her come as he rubbed against her cleft. She hadn’t believed anyone could make her orgasm like this, fully clothed and lying on a bed of sand under the cloudy sky at night, with the sound of the surf serenading them.

Feeling the climax hit, she cried out, her words caught on the breeze and washed out to sea, the orgasm rippling through her like a gigantic wave of pleasure.

He suddenly stilled as Meara thought she heard a footstep on the wooden stairs to the beach. Her heart nearly gave out.

“Hello?” a woman called out from up near the house, and Meara shoved at Finn to get him off her.

But he was already moving as fast as he could to distance himself from Meara.

Hell, Meara thought, what was I thinking? She hadn’t been. And although she’d thought Finn was a fairly sensible guy, she was now thinking otherwise. She sure hadn’t been in her right mind to allow it to go that far!

“Down here,” Finn said to Anna Johnson as she called to them from the cliff while he thought of taking a quick dip in the ocean to cool off his libido.

“Who is it?” Meara whispered, trying to get her bra and blouse back into place.

He could have kicked himself for what had happened between them. If Anna hadn’t arrived, he wasn’t sure just how far he would have taken this. Ever since he’d arrived at Meara’s place, he’d had an overwhelming need to do more than just ensure her safety. He couldn’t put his finger on what it was, although all the team members had been fascinated with her and none had dared cross Hunter by approaching her. But now?

She was his to protect, and somewhere along the line, that had turned into an uncontrollable need to possess. He brushed the sand off his trousers, not believing how easily he could lose control over himself when it came to her.

“It’s Anna Johnson,” he said to Meara, his lust-filled thoughts finally clearing enough to answer her. “She was supposed to stock the place with groceries. Earlier.”

His contact ran down the stairs and then strolled across the sand.

“Well, I see you made yourself at home,” Anna said to Finn, joining them on the beach, her auburn hair pulled back into a ponytail and swinging with her walk. A black windbreaker hid her shoulder holster, while her matching trousers covered up a knife and a spare gun. The only part of her outfit that wasn’t holding a weapon was a tight-fitting tank top clinging provocatively to well-rounded breasts that would easily distract any man from looking elsewhere.

Even with all her weaponry well hidden, she appeared dangerous, Finn thought. But maybe that was because he knew her so well. Knew how easily she could disarm a man. Knew how stealthily she could move. How deadly she could really be.

She looked Meara over, and he understood Anna well enough to recognize that she was checking to see if Meara looked as though she had been fooling around with Finn when he had a job to do and seduction wasn’t part of the mission. Meara’s hair had been knotted behind her head but was now half hanging out of the knot and draping over her shoulders as if she had indeed experienced a tumble with a man. Sand stuck to her clothes where it would not have collected if she had been sitting on the bench the whole time. And her expression and flushed cheeks indicated she was guilty as charged. Yeah, she looked as though they’d been making out.

Everyone knew Hunter wouldn’t go for it if he learned the truth. Meara hooking up with one of the members of the team was too risky, Hunter would say. He wanted his sister to have a mate who lasted longer than any of them might if they continued to take care of dangerous business like they were bound to do. That was one of the reasons Finn was so surprised that Hunter had taken a mate of his own. Tessa had to be someone really special.

Picking up on what had happened, Anna quickly glanced at Finn, her gaze shifting to his trousers. She raised her brows and looked up at him. “Well, you really did make yourself at home.” She motioned to the fire as if that was what she was referring to, but he knew better. “Have any more s’mores?” she asked.

“Help yourself. Anna, this is Meara, Hunter’s twin sister.”

“I gathered that.”

“And, Meara, this is Anna, one of our operatives.”

“I’d shake your hand,” Meara said, “but I’m afraid mine is a little sticky.”

Finn noted the distinct annoyance lacing her words. But Anna was acting like a smart-ass and riling up Meara.

“No need,” Anna said, reaching for the bag of marshmallows.

“You two probably have business to discuss alone,” Meara said and rose to get up. “I’m getting chilled anyway. See you in the morning, Finn. Nice meeting you, Anna.” Before he could object, Meara headed through the sand to the steps that would take her to the house above.

Anna cooked her marshmallows as they both listened to Meara’s footsteps on the wooden stairs until she reached the top, then walked across the deck to the house, opened the back door, and shut it.

Neither Anna nor Finn spoke for a moment, making sure they were alone. Then she said, “Wow.”

“Don’t. Say. Anything.”

She shook her head and combined the chocolate, marshmallow, and graham crackers. “Wasn’t going to say anything but ‘wow.’ Have you thought how Hunter will take this?”

“Anna.” His voice was firm. He didn’t want any discussion concerning his private affairs.

“All right, all right. Not a word. But you know how fiercely protective he is of her. When Paul said something that one time about how hot Meara looked, I swear Hunter was ready to tear him to shreds.”

Finn raised his brows at her.

She threw her hands up in the air, one still clutching a half-eaten s’more. “All right. Okay, not another word. It’s your ass that’s at stake, not mine.”

“Have you found out anything about the man who attacked Allan?”

“Not yet. But the guy they found dead on the cliffs? He was a contract assassin. Worked for anyone who would pay the bills.”

“Hell. But who was paying the bill this time, and will they send another to find us?”

“They will, and they have.”

Finn stared at her. She smiled with a look of pure innocence, and yet he recognized that look. She’d killed the assassin without blinking an eye. “He’s dead. He found your car at the dealership up the road. I made sure he didn’t learn where you went after that.”

Finn cursed under his breath. Who the hell wanted them dead? “And you don’t know who he worked for, either.”

“Nope. You had to know this case wouldn’t be easy. There was a second one, too. But I found him dead just a short distance from the other. I suspect he might have been killed by the same man who killed the assassin at Meara’s beach. He has to be on our side, and I believe he lost you at the car dealership. So what do you want me to do next? Want me to baby-sit Hunter’s sister?” Her eyes sparkled with amusement. She had to know his answer to that question. “You probably need some relief.”

“No.”

A small smile percolated as she made herself another s’more. “Because?”

“I’ve promised Hunter. He trusts me.” Although after he said so, he chastised himself for giving her an explanation. And he realized that Hunter’s trust didn’t extend to Finn tackling his sister in the sand and rutting her—even though they were fully clothed—like some primeval beast.

“Hmm.” Anna took a bite of her s’more. “Can’t eat just one.” She looked up at the house. “Better watch yourself.”

He knew she didn’t mean in regard to assassins, but to watch himself with one hot female gray.

“Hell, even if Hunter doesn’t kill you for going after his sister, the other guys on the team will be waiting in line to wring your neck for not having the chance to pursue her.”

“Anna.”

She shrugged. “I’m just saying. You know how they all are. They’ll all be p.o.’d if they learn you…” She smiled when she saw the scowl he was giving her. “Everyone said she was a handful. I just didn’t know that was what they were referring to.”

Finn stood and brushed the sand off his jeans. “Take care of the fire before you leave.”

“As if you had to tell me.”

“And I want you to track down this Joe who wasn’t Joe. I have a hunch that if he killed the other man near the dealership, our Joe’s still there searching for any clues of where we’ve gone. He’s got to be trying to track us. He stuck a bug in Meara’s jeans pocket. Standard issue. Anyone can pick them up anywhere.”

“Was she wearing the jeans when he did it?”

Ignoring Anna’s annoying comment, Finn gave her a warning look. “Be careful when you look for this guy. I don’t think he’s one of the bad guys, but he’ll be watching for anyone who might be looking for him next. And I haven’t a clue what his reaction would be if he got caught in his game. Or what his business is.

“Something tells me he’s damn good at what he does—and like you, I’m pretty sure he killed the first of the assassins. No evidence of a crime, although a gun was most likely fired—which was what we heard, probably the assassin’s gunshot—and this fake Joe was as cool as the breeze whipping off the ocean as he took care of the man. He’s good, Anna. Don’t let your guard down.”

“I won’t. Be careful yourself, Finn,” Anna said, sincerely. Then she smiled. “With her, too.”

“Watch yourself with this Joe character, Anna,” he reiterated, not about to comment on her dig about Meara.

Finn really didn’t like Anna ending up with the raw end of the deal where that guy was concerned. But he also knew she might succeed where the men on their team couldn’t. He shook his head at her when she waggled her brows at him, and then he headed through the sand to the stairs, ran up them two at a time, and stalked across the deck.

When he pulled open the door to the dining room, he found the whole house dark. He walked inside and then locked everything up. Meara’s rifle was no longer where he’d left it on the kitchen counter, so he figured she had hidden it underneath her bed.

The place had three furnished bedrooms, and the couch folded into a bed. He should have taken one of the beds. The one Meara wasn’t sleeping in. He should have. But on the other hand, he told himself, what if someone broke into the house and he couldn’t get to her in time?

That meant he really needed to sleep with her. After he’d kissed her in the sand, he wasn’t sure how trustworthy he could be. And she sure as hell wasn’t discouraging him.

He stalked into the bathroom to take a shower, breathed in the damp air where she’d taken one a few minutes earlier, and imagined what running soap over every delectable inch of her would be like. That made him hard all over again, and he quickly started the water—cold water. He took a Navy shower, lathering up with the water off and then turning it back on to rinse off. He’d never get used to a luxurious Hollywood shower. Then he smiled. Unless he was sharing it with one hot little gray female, and he wouldn’t be taking it then cold, either.

Shaking his head at himself, he realized he didn’t want to go there again. He wrapped a towel around his waist and headed down the hall to the bedrooms, breathing in the air and tracking her like a wolf hunting for his prey. He stopped at the first closed bedroom door and meant to rap on it, but he listened instead. The room was dark and quiet. She had to be in bed already. Probably asleep. He opened the door and stared at the empty bed. His heart did a triple flip. He swung the door wide. Unless she was hiding under the bed or in the closet, she wasn’t here.

He stalked out of the room and down the hall to the next bedroom, barely registering that her scent was down, too. He realized she had probably checked out each of the rooms before she settled on the one to sleep in. He pushed the door open and stared at the bed. Empty.

Hell. He stormed down to the last room—the master bedroom suite, threw open the door, and stood frozen in the entryway for a split second, staring at the mattress. The bedcovers were still undisturbed, just like the others.

He whipped around and hurried for the kitchen, hoping to God she hadn’t hot-wired the Hummer and taken off, that somehow Anna had gotten to her and she’d just said to hell with everything and—well, where in the world would she have gone? Back to her cabin? Or maybe to Hunter’s place? Damn it to hell.

Movement in the living room caught his eye, and he turned and stared in the direction of the couch. There, curled up under a blue-and-yellow starred quilt, was Meara, her dark hair splayed out over a white pillow, her eyes shut in sleep, her breathing soft and sleepy.

Relieved didn’t even touch the insurmountable way he felt at seeing her safe and secure. He just stood there watching her, unable to stop observing her, his heart still pumping up a storm. She looked like an angel, when he’d thought she’d been the devil, slipping away from him for some unknown reason. Or maybe not so unknown. Was she afraid he’d ravish her in the middle of the night? Was that why she preferred sleeping on the couch?

He walked over to the couch and touched her shoulder. When she didn’t stir, he lifted her into his arms, one hell of a soft bundle of woman, and carried her into the first of the three bedrooms. He wouldn’t ravish her, and he had to prove he could be trusted, but he sure as hell was going to stick close to her. Two assassins had come for them. He wasn’t going to risk her being in another room alone.

Not until this was all over.