PLAY OF PASSION

Drew skirted the plundering horde and walked across to join her. “I set up a blanket for you over there. Thought you could do with a break.”


Her wolf was more than suspicious of his solicitude after the recent awkwardness between them. Or maybe, she thought with a silent growl, this was all part of his “let’s just pretend it never happened” policy. “This is why you abandoned me with twelve teenagers?” She folded her arms, refusing to give in to the urge to fix the wind-tousled mess of his hair. That was something she might have done before. When he’d been a trusted friend.

Reaching up, Drew flicked his ear. “Big ears.”

Glancing over his shoulder, she saw their charges were involved in the food, but he had a point. So she didn’t argue when he urged her to follow him down the slope a little and onto a small shelf of land out of sight and downwind of the others.

The picnic blanket waiting there was smaller, striped with blue and white, and lying in a dappled patch of sunlight. A collapsible picnic basket sat a little to the side, while the blanket itself was set with small platters holding plump berries, sliced chicken, fluffy bread, what looked like a fresh salad, and two bottles of water that sparkled in the sun.

Indigo’s wolf liked the idea of food, but neither it nor she was about to let Drew off the hook. “I’m waiting for an answer.”

“I knew you could handle the juveniles”—easy words with no apparent undertone—“and I figured I’d better run up here and check the trail in case of possible rock slides from the storm. Far as I know, no one’s been up here since.”

Damn, she should’ve thought of that. “You should’ve told me.”

“I left a message on your phone.”

Scowling, Indigo pulled her cell phone out of her pocket. Double damn. “I forgot to charge it.” Still angry—though it was irrational and had nothing whatsoever to do with his actions today—she finally shrugged off her pack and took a seat on the blanket.

Drew sat in silence as she made herself a sandwich, then he made one for himself. The air up here was crisp, fresh, and somehow freeing. She felt her shoulders loosen up, her emotions turn mellow in spite of her vivid, almost uncomfortable awareness of the male wolf sitting on the other side of the picnic basket. When he reached for the basket, she was curious enough to glance over. “What else have you got?”

A smile that lit up his eyes to a blinding shade, making her suck in a startled breath. She wasn’t obstinate without reason—she could admit Drew had a way about him. He’d always used it to make her smile before. But she wasn’t ready to be charmed today.

Then he opened the bakery box in his hand to reveal a slice of New York cheesecake. “Since I ruined the experience of the other one.” Putting it on the blanket between them, he placed several fresh berries on top and nudged it her way. “It’s all for you.”

Indigo’s heart threatened to melt, but she held firm. Sure, he looked woebegone, but she’d known him far too long to fall for that. “Thanks.” Taking the cheesecake, she picked up the fork and ate a bite, watching as Drew packed up the rest of the stuff and moved the basket so he could sidle up right next to her. “Watch it,” she muttered.

“I’m sorry.”

Startled, she glanced at him—to see that those always-laughing eyes had gone truly solemn, his expression intent. “About what?” Her wolf had to be certain. Neither part of her liked shades of gray.

“About the way I acted the other night.” A sheepish smile. “You were right. I was high on adrenaline—I should’ve crashed instead of hitting on you.”

Suspicion whispered through her veins. There was something he wasn’t saying, she thought, but she couldn’t quite figure out the loophole. “Why didn’t you say this earlier?”

“I wanted to do it right—and you were too mad to listen.”

Yes, she admitted, she had been. Her sense of betrayal had been—she could now admit—out of all proportion to what he’d actually done. Except that it had been him, a wolf she’d given her deepest trust.

He nudged her shoulder with his own when she stayed silent. “I hate that I’m worried about touching you now,” he said. “And I know it’s my fault.” A pause. “Indy, come on. Do you know how early I had to get up to go get your cheesecake?” Big blue eyes that looked as guileless as a newborn pup’s.

She knew half of it was an act—but her wolf liked his playfulness. She always had. And … he had apologized. Flat out. No reservations. Most dominant wolves—and Drew was categorically a dominant, for all that he fooled people into thinking otherwise—had trouble with the s word, even when they were utterly in the wrong. Maybe he hadn’t been avoiding her because he was sulking, she decided; maybe he had actually been figuring out how to apologize. As a dominant herself, she understood exactly how hard it had to have been for him.