PLAY OF PASSION

So she scooped up a bite of the cheesecake and lifted the fork to his mouth. He accepted it, a smile creasing his face. Then he nuzzled at her neck, and her wolf allowed it … welcomed it.

That was when Indigo realized she’d hated not being able to touch Drew, too.

Andrew fisted a hand on the blanket behind Indigo, drawing the rainstorm and steel scent of her into his lungs. His wolf was starved for it, rolled around in it as if it was drunk, unable to get enough. When she didn’t push him away, he allowed himself another precious, excruciating second to indulge in the silken heat of her skin before raising his head.

She lifted another bite of cheesecake in his direction. Giving a huge sigh, he held out a hand. “No, no. I told you it was all for you.”

A tug of her lips. “You’re terrible, you know that.” She put the fork to his lips.

He parted them, let her feed him, the small intimacy making his wolf want to sing in thrumming pleasure. “That’s why you love me.”

A shake of her head, but her lips curved upward, her eyes shimmering with laughter. “How did Riley ever put up with you when you were a child?”

“You know Riley. Nothing bothers him.” Except Mercy, Andrew thought. His brother, the Wall, had fallen. And so would Andrew’s smart, stubborn Indigo. “I’d do something stupid, he wouldn’t yell, wouldn’t snarl, he’d just dump me in the lake. Rinse and repeat until I got the point.”

Indigo snickered, and it made his wolf go motionless, cock its head. The sound of her happiness … yeah, he’d do anything for it.

“Too bad you’re too big to be dumped in the lake now.”

Lying back on the blanket with his arms folded beneath his head, he stared up at the leaves outlined against the excruciating blue of the sky. It was a stunning beauty, but it couldn’t hold his attention. Indigo’s scent, her warmth so close, her hip brushing his, it scored him to the soul. “Oh, I dunno,” he said, keeping it light because there was no way he wanted to spook her again, “he did it a few weeks ago.”

He all but saw Indigo’s wolf prick up its ears. Twisting her body, she leaned over to put the empty bakery box beside the picnic basket, then placed one hand on his chest, gave a little nudge. “Tell me.”

Her touch locked the air in his throat, threatened to steal his words, his soul. Indigo nudged again when he didn’t answer. “I’ll find out anyway, you know.”

Glad she’d misunderstood his silence, he made a face at her. “All I said was that he should shave.”

Leaning down until her nose almost touched his, she narrowed her eyes, “Uh-huh. Which part of him did you suggest he shave?”





CHAPTER 12


He grinned, his wolf delighted with her. “His head.” When Indigo touched her nose to his, he dared raise one of his hands and play with strands of her hair, her ponytail having tumbled over her shoulder. “I might have hinted that he was turning old and gray. Oh, and maybe losing his hair anyway.”

Indigo’s body shook. “You know newly mated men are touchy about things like that.” But her hand clenched on his T-shirt before she fell away and onto her back beside him, the sound of her laughter husky and open. “God, I wish I’d seen his face.”

Andrew wanted nothing more than to raise himself on his elbow, reach down and stroke his hand over Indigo’s face. He’d hold her with his fingers on her jaw as he took her smiling lips with his own, indulging once more in the taste he hadn’t been able to get out of his mind since the night of the storm.

His body tensed, blood pumping hot and hard. Gritting his teeth, he bent one leg to hide the blunt evidence of his reaction, even as he said, “I couldn’t believe he fell for it.” His brother was in the prime of his life, one of the most powerful wolves in the pack. And he was assuredly in no danger of losing his hair.

“He’s not going to think completely straight for a while,” Indigo said, “but the mating dance is the worst part. Men go a little nuts during that time. I remember when Elias met Yuki. He turned into his evil twin, snarling at anyone who so much as looked her way.”

Andrew couldn’t imagine even-tempered Elias snarling at anyone. But as he himself knew, it was hard to be rational when your whole being was focused on a woman to the extent that the need to touch her skin, to draw the scent of her deep into your lungs, became a fever in your blood. “I think the natives are getting restless.”

“Yeah, I hear them.” Sitting up, she slapped him lightly on the chest. “I’ll go help them clean up, pack up the leftovers for later.”

“I’ll take care of things here.” Rising, he watched her walk away, a tall, strong woman with contentment humming through her stubborn bones—because he’d apologized, because she thought he’d turned the clock back to the way things had always been.