Wolfe Page 16

  He was still bleeding but wasn’t moving, though his chest rose and fell.

  I hadn’t dared to approach, but now, maybe it was safe?

  I’d watched him go through phases, from aware and somewhat smart, to barbaric and lusting after me to the point of almost ripping off his hand. Having him standing there, unable to get at me, with a rampant erection had been weirdly breathtaking. He’d pull at his hand, roar at the pain, then try again. Now, he was dull-eyed and unresponsive.

  He’d ingested too much Keppra for his system, especially considering that idiosyncratic reaction he had to the drug. I knew what I needed to do.

  My nursing instincts nudged me.

  And my fears... What should be driving me from him was also driving me toward him – to pull out that knife and make sure he didn’t die from an overdose, infection, or blood loss.

  Didn’t want him to die; didn’t want him to leave my world.

  “Complicated,” I muttered. “Damn you.”

  Could I do anything? My arms were getting uncomfortable, pulled back the way they’d been for ages. I poked the wall behind me with my fingers, walking them along.

  He’d hurt himself to stop himself from hurting me...okay, hurting me more.

  To be honest, though shaken and scared, I wasn’t sure when I’d have stopped him, given a choice. Not after what’d happened up here, for certain. Downstairs? Hmmm. I guess I was one fucked-up, kinky bitch. No one could ever approach the effect he had on me. Wolfe making love to me was a mixture of walking on a volcano’s edge and being in a porno movie where the orgasms were real.

  I sniffed.

  I was covered in mess, sore, weak-headed even. If I went too close to him and he turned beast again, I couldn’t bear to imagine what would happen.

  I took a hesitant step forward and waited to see if he’d lunge for me.

  Brave. Stupid. Caring. Intelligent, half the time. He was all those. And, I frowned, he thought he was in love with me. Those quiet words had taken a second to translate, being so foreign to my understanding. This wasn’t exactly a romantic interlude in Paris with champagne, lobster, and rubbery sex toys.

  I sucked in my lip, concerned about what he might do, but most of all, for his well-being. Surprising but inevitable. He’d permeated the very molecules of my soul. It wasn’t just the lunatic level sex, it was who he was when he was, well...normal. And it wasn’t as if that state wasn’t achievable and repeatable.

  Just needed the drug, was all.

  Yes, we’d both messed up, but it was what he did when brought to the brink of destruction that had truly shaken my notions about where I stood in his world.

  Stuck that knife in his hand. Jesus.

  After one deep, steadying breath, I walked to him.

  By the last step, I was sure he was unconscious. If he stopped breathing, there was nothing much I could do, except knee him. What a pickle. The knife was imbedded at the very edge of the counter. If it hadn’t been, his arm could never have been positioned as it was. Luckily, or maybe it was deliberate, the sharp edge faced away from the window, so his jumping about hadn’t dragged the steel all the way through his hand.

  There might be a way to remove it, if I was gymnastic. I just had to jump backward onto the counter without knifing myself, falling, or knocking myself out.

  After three dramatic tries, and almost sliding off due to the blood under my ass, I managed. I examined the knife and how he’d stuck it between the metacarpal bones. Wriggling the steel loose from the timber top was going to be harder to do than getting my ass up here. Slipping even once might mean severed arteries, tendons, muscles. He could heal. Me, I might be crippled.

  A surgeon would advise leaving it in so a pro could do it. Yeaaah, as if.

  It was me, or nobody.

  I leaned sideways, twisted my arms to get my hands closer, and found I had to zero in blindly while groping for the hilt. Rocking the knife back and forth seemed to slowly loosen it and I kept at it.

  I paused for a second.

  My legs dangled near his head and felt awfully vulnerable.

  “Damn you, Wolfe. Your biting tendencies are making me nervous.”

  He didn’t stir and I again tried levering at the knife. When it came loose, my palm nearly slipped down and slid along the blade.

  “Fuck!” Panting, I jerked away.

  Could I use the knife to cut off the leather cuffs?

  Worth a try, but after a minute of maneuvering the knife at my back, I cursed and gave up.

  Truth was, I either was frantic enough to risk slitting my wrists, or I trusted him to let me go once the Keppra levels lessened in his blood and he woke.

  Guess I was trusting him.

  Tsking, I surveyed the top of his head and that tousled nest of black hair. What a catch. He was snoring, probably as smelly as I was now, after all my exertions, and drool leaked from one corner of his mouth.

  I remembered the garland of flowers he’d made me, how much he cared for Lily, the little talks we’d had about life, family, other stuff that’d just slipped into daily conversations. Then, last of all, I remembered that he’d known I was dosing him and he’d let me decide what I wanted.

  “Wolfe, you’re batshit crazy, but you’re nice when you can think straight.”

  Not that I’d seen or signed a contract that’d said I wanted to be screwed with the biggest dildo thing since the last Saturn rocket took off.

  That old instruction: Don’t do anything I wouldn’t like. Was that why, if he stopped breathing, I was going to attempt CPR by kneeing his chest and breathing into his drooly mouth?

  “Hell no.” I knew it wasn’t the reason.

  I didn’t want to be responsible for killing this man. “And I like you,” I murmured. “Especially the cute things you do.”

  At some point, Lily had arrived had lain on the floor in the middle of the room. She raised her head and eyed me.

  “Am I right, girl?”

  She ruffed and I laughed.

  I slid off the counter, nearly dislocating my shoulder thanks to an unexpected topple backward, then I sat and nestled into Wolfe. He was going to be normal when he woke up, he was.

  Had to be.

  A moment later, Lily trotted over and curled up beside us.

  “Complicated man,” I murmured, as I closed my eyes. “God. I’m so thirsty.”

  Chapter 28

  Wolfe

  When I stirred, she was cuddled into me. Dried tears showed in tracks on her face. Her hair was sticking up every which way and tangled, and her cheek was squashed onto my arm, making her appear part orangutan. I patted her, blearily.

  “Is okay. Fuck, I’m sorry, Kiara.” I caressed her mouth, let my hand fall.

  Waves of nothing swallowed me.

  * * * * *

  Blinking helped clear my eyes.

  She was still here, in my arms, thank god.

  I may have wept a moment. Not long enough for her to notice. Her eyes were opening.

  “Did I say sorry?”

  “Mmm. I think so.” Her mouth twitched into a quick smile.

  I got a smile?

  I levered myself off the floor, and slowly stood, noticing my hand was free of the knife. “How?”

  Grimacing, I stared at the neat hole. Blood decorated my arm.

  Kiara tilted back her head then shrugged. “I got lucky. I jumped on the counter backward, knocked it loose.”

  What the hell? “You might’ve knifed yourself!”

  Her second shrug only drew attention to her arms being behind her. She was still in the leather cuffs.

  “Wait...” I coughed, cleared my throat of sludge. “There.” I managed to get to the ladder minus any catastrophe, like falling.

  Going down was even crazier. Blinking away the fogginess, I did it. Reached the bottom; found the keys.

  Going up those stairs meant crawling.

  I figured I’d given myself too much drug.

  Figured, alright. I was a tad dumb.
>
  I walked to her, dangling the keys and jingling them. “For the cuffs.”

  “You’re back.” She smiled. “I wondered what you were doing.”

  “Turn around.”

  Kiara swiveled on her knees, and for the first time since awakening, I really noticed she was naked.

  Well. I was definitely slow. And, my cock was so sore. I’d probably done enough of that.

  “Don’t wriggle,” I instructed, before leaning over her and unlocking the little padlocks.

  While she was stretching her arms, I recalled some words she’d said earlier and snagged one of the bottles of drinking water off the counter. Then I threw myself down beside her and drew her to me. I unscrewed the cap.

  “Drink.”

  She took a few good swallows, paused, then drank some more.

  “I heard what you said before – that you were thirsty, and that I’m complicated.”

  She snorted and gave me the bottle. “Understatement of the year.”

  “Yeah.” After drinking the rest, I set down the bottle. “Are we still good?”

  Kiara sighed. “You’re kidding?”

  My heart dropped.

  “Okay. Okay.” Her hands pressed on her mouth for a second before she spoke. “I’ve had a lot of time to think this through. A real lot. You’re a different man every time I turn around, Wolfe, but...I like bits from all of them. Except when you’re totally absolutely bananas.”

  “Bits?”

  She wriggled about and draped her arm over my chest. “Yes.”

  “Really?” I angled her head up so I could look into her eyes.

  “You stabbed a knife into your hand. Why did you do that?”

  “Uh huh.” I sorted through my thoughts. “I decided I was going crazy again. That I needed more drug. Was the only way I could think of to stop myself. Save you, me. Needed time.”

  Her brow corrugated. “Time to make it work?”

  “Yes.”

  “See. That’s why.”

  She wasn’t worried I’d do that again? “Why?”

  “Vague question.”

  “Why are you trusting me?”

  “Shut up. Later. Okay? I need to sleep.” She mumbled, “Been watching you to make sure you didn’t swallow your tongue for sooo long.”

  Her eyes closed and a sweet smile graced her mouth.

  “Fine.” I looked around. Kitchen floor? What did it matter? I snuggled in to keep her warm.

  “’sides,” she said softly. “You’re nice, when you want to be. Like I said, I like you.”

  Ohhh, now. My heart did some maneuvers I never knew it could, flip-flopping. “Good,” I whispered, and I kissed her forehead, gently. “Good.”

  Maybe, just maybe, I had hope.

  Making her be with me was easy. Making her want to be, deep inside, in her heart, that was difficult, but I figured she’d just said something significant. I frowned. Though nice wasn’t what I aimed for.

  “And,” she whispered. “You fuck like a god.”

  That made me grin.

  Chapter 29

  Kiara

  We walked along what was now a familiar path. Our previous footsteps had bent the grass and made a flattened area to follow. It made this seem normal, as if we were a couple out for a picnic at a popular spot.

  Wolfe carried a basket and a rug was slung over one shoulder. The sun shone through wisps of his hair where the wind flicked at them. That drew my eye, that and the shine on his biceps, the breadth of his shoulders under the light blue cotton shirt, and his sensual lips...those too. I guess I was a little besotted. Yeah, all that made him look like he was the god of fucking.

  Though I’d said it jokingly, he’d not forgotten.

  Twenty-four hours and we were off on a darn picnic.

  I was still sore in so many places, though some of them gave me a happy tingle. His hand had a neat white bandage that needed changing later this afternoon. This morning, he’d taken his dose with me observing, after asking me how much was best.

  When packing all the picnic food and gear, I’d asked why this, why today. He’d looked at me from under his brow and declared we needed to discuss things.

  Things.

  Where did one start with things? I glanced over at this man who prowled more than he walked, and at the small dog prancing at his feet. She’d dived on and squished a few grasshoppers and bugs on the way. The two of them together said everything.

  I...liked the man who prowled, the man who wanted to discuss stuff, the man who made friends with small dogs.

  His beast side scared me, but we could deal with that. But not with knives. I shuddered.

  The field plateaued out a little and he halted, surveying the place as if it was new. I was pretty sure this was close to where I’d stood to shoot the revolver, and we’d had a picnic here before.

  The creek gurgled below.

  “Here will do.” He unfolded the rug and flapped it out, letting it cloak the grass with its tartan kitsch.

  The mundanity of us taking the plates, goblets, champagne, and tinned caviar and so on, from the basket made a nice contrast to how feral he made everything seem. I’d be struck by the strength in his hand, his fingers – in every detail – the tendons and the muscles of his neck, even the rugged crevices of his face.

  He caught me looking more than once but said nothing.

  When we were done, with a glass of champagne in hand he sprawled back onto his elbows and watched the sun-limned trees. Here had always been pretty and today it seemed brighter than ever, the blue flowers bluer, the yellow dandelions like dots of vivid paint bobbling in the breezes.

  “It’d be freezing up here in winter.” I took a sip of champagne, and rearranged the see-through chiffon at the bottom of my dress. It extended a foot past the mid-thigh hem of the white dress and made the garment seem naughtier than it really was.

  Funny, how calm I felt.

  “Yes. It would.”

  “The things you wanted to discuss?”

  “Yes.” He seemed lost in thought. “Are you staying with me, Kiara?”

  “Oh. I have a choice?”

  This moment was abruptly carved on the air.

  I guess I knew of the potential for this to be discussed, but hadn’t dared think it, not properly.

  “Of course you do.” Wolfe nodded, his eyes filled with a serene light blue.

  “I thought...”

  “I don’t want to let you go. But I have to say this, offer it.”

  Have to. After all that had happened, asking me this was just some rule he’d decided on. Was I disposable? It miffed me. Which might be illogical. He was finally offering to free me, and I was feeling weird.

  It was his matter-of-fact tone. “You seem calm. All this time spent making me stay –”

  “I’m not...” He bit out. “Calm.”

  “Oh. Good.” I swallowed. This was the big question and I should’ve studied for it like it was the exam to end all exams, but I hadn’t. I’d avoided thinking about why I should stay. He hadn’t seemed to allow choice.

  But now he did.

  And I found I couldn’t imagine ever being away from him.

  If I left and somehow, miraculously, assimilated back into the US work force, what would I do that wasn’t like eating cardboard, being cardboard, compared to being with Wolfe?

  Nothing, there was absolutely nothing to compare.

  And neither of us had taken our eyes off the other while I’d thought this through.

  Saying that out loud would seem insanity.

  “Good,” I repeated, licking my lips, delaying. “Because, I wouldn’t stay with you, if I meant so little.”

  Stay, my mind was screaming, but I was still a little afraid, and so I was finding excuses.

  “So. You’re staying?” His hand arrived on my thigh and sneaked the chiffon out of the way. As always, a shock rippled into me at his touch. “Little? You don’t mean little. You mean the world to me.”

  I shut m
y eyes to savor the sensation. Those words had tipped the balance.

  Take a chance. Seize the day. Pick the harder, crazier option, for once in your life.

  “Yes. I want to stay. I know it wouldn’t make sense to anyone but us, but I want to be with you.”

  I chided myself. I’d forgotten something important to me but then, I couldn’t see that I had much influence in that anymore.

  “There’s something else?”

  His hand had stilled. Though he was being patient, it took me a moment to figure out what to say. “It’s my parents – mother and step-father in Russia. I’m supposed to have brought you in. Remember?”

  “Yes. And we went through this. They probably think you’re dead. Which is a pretty good excuse.”

  “I guess. I still worry. Like, if they see me alive and happy and with you.”

  “Then they’d have tracked us down and we’d have more to worry about than your parents. If, say, you leave me, how long before they find you anyway? Or the police?”

  “Either way...” God, this was difficult to sort out. “They’d think you’re controlling me?”

  “Not if you’re by yourself.”

  So, I was better off with him, and so was my family. In fact, if they found me again, alone, they might want me to do more things, more illegal things. At least if I was with Wolfe, we had a supernatural advantage.

  This must be how a superhero’s wife would feel. Safer with him than alone.

  I would never be able to protect my parents from harm but being missing was better than being a blip on the radar of Russian intelligence again.

  “Okay. Thanks. I feel better about that now.”

  “Good.” His fingers traced circles on my skin. “I’d been in darkness for so long, since before I even met you, Kiara.” The muscles of his jaw worked. “And only when I saw you, did the light return. That may sound dramatic, but it’s true.”

  “Oh.” That was so sweet. Tears filled my eyes but I refused to blink. I felt silly to be crying.

  “It’s just the truth.” His hand was sensually caressing my thigh, but his mouth tweaked up at the corner. “I’m not a safe man to be with. I’d like you to be very, very sure. If this drug doesn’t work –”