A Groom For Red Riding Hood. Jennifer Greene

Чтение книги онлайн.

      Two

      Mary Ellen obediently froze. Her heart even started beating again. She recognized the giant from the restaurant, although she barely looked at him. Her eyes glued straight on the gun he was carrying. The nice, long, big gun. She wasn’t going to die. The wolves weren’t going to get her. He had a gun. “Shoot ‘em, for pete’s sake!”

      “Now, just take it easy. I’m pretty sure we don’t need to go that far.”

      His slow, lazy baritone took her back. “In case you haven’t noticed—” personally, she thought he’d have to be myopic and deaf not to notice “—I think those wolves are planning to have me for lunch.”

      “Yeah, I can see they’re not too happy with you.” He glanced at the wolves, then back at her. “Try to see it from their viewpoint. A human is their worst enemy. And you didn’t just barge into their territory. You wandered within twenty-five yards from a nest of their pups. They’re just trying to protect their young.”

      Conceivably he thought she needed this information. She waved her hand in front of his face. One of them seemed to be under the illusion they had time for a casual chitchat. It wasn’t her. “I’m sorry I upset them. You’d never believe how sorry. If I could disappear into thin air, trust me, I’d be glad to. But that not being an option, I’d sure appreciate it if you’d at least aim that gun—”

      “I’m afraid it isn’t the kind of weapon you think it is. It’s just a tranquilizing gun. No bullets. And yeah, I can shoot them if I have to, but it’s a lousy choice. The sedative would put them out for several hours. They’d be prey to the elements, other animals, and they’d be affected by the drug for a couple of days. Just relax, okay? They aren’t doing anything but growling at you. They’re entitled to give you a lecture. You screwed up.”

      “Nothing new about that. It’s the story of my life,” she muttered.

      “Pardon?”

      “Nothing. I can’t think. Geezle beezle, they’re still circling!”

      “I know. And I know you’re scared, but you’re staying real cool. I’m proud of you. Most men would have lost it by now, but not you. You’re holding it together just fine. We’re gonna keep talking, okay? And while we’re talking, I want you to toe the catch on your skis. Real slow, real careful, see if you can get them off. Just forget the wolves. Look at me, straight at me.”

      He had everything wrong. She wasn’t staying cool; she was a pinch away from totally losing it, and positively she’d done nothing to make the stranger—or anyone else—proud of her. Yet she looked straight at him, because he’d asked her. And she managed to awkwardly, clumsily toe off her skis, because he’d asked her to do that, too. The man had a Pied Piper voice—throaty and husky and hypnotizingly seductive. He could probably coax a nun to strip with that wickedly sexy voice, but that hardly explained why she obeyed him. There was only one possible reason why she did what he asked.

      She’d lost her mind.

      Circumstantial evidence wasn’t a fair way to judge a man, but she could hardly fail to notice clues that he wasn’t necessarily operating with a full deck. The wolves were snarling and circling and charging around. He was as calm as a spring breeze. Mary Ellen took that as a teensy hint that he needed a reality check. For reasons she couldn’t imagine, the front of his parka and jeans were hard-packed with snow. The hood was thrown back, revealing a shaggy, disheveled pelt of jet black hair. It looked as if his hair was decorated with dry leaves, which made no sense. Making even less sense, he was unzipping his parka as he slowly walked toward her.

      She’d instinctively trusted him in the restaurant, instinctively sensed that he wasn’t the kind of man to prey on a vulnerable woman. Then and now, she should have remembered that her judgment about men wasn’t worth a Las Vegas dollar. Obviously she’d been mistaken about the intelligence in his shrewd blue eyes. No way he could be too bright when it seemed to have missed his notice entirely that her life was in imminent danger. Hells bells, so was his. The wolves sounded restless and hungry and mean and ferocious. And her damn fool of a giant was peeling off his jacket in freezing-lung temperatures as if he had nothing better to do.

      “What I want you to do,” he said gently, “is put on my coat.”

      “You want me to wear your coat?”

      “And my muffler and gloves.”

      “And your muffler and gloves,” she echoed. Vaguely she wondered if she’d landed in the twilight zone. She had experience, extensive experience, in embarrassing messes. Coping with situations that no sane woman would normally land herself in was really her forte. Somehow, though, nothing had prepared her for holding a witless conversation with a madman while surrounded by wolves.

      “They know my scent.”

      “Swell.”

      Her deadpan comment was hardly intended to arouse his sense of humor, yet his mouth curved in the crack of a grin. “I’m getting the definite feeling we’d better backtrack a few yards. My name is Steve. Steve Rawlings. And I guess I just assumed you knew who I was. My being around has raised a lot of talk in town.”

      “I’m new in Eagle Falls. And not exactly on the chitchat gossip circuit.”

      He nodded. “So you didn’t know.... These wolves are my problem. My job. By profession I’m an ethologist. I study and work with animals like wolves, and specifically I’m working with this pack. It’d be my responsibility if anyone was hurt because of them, and I’m for sure not going to let anything happen to you, okay?” He gave her a moment to take in that information, then calmly went on. “The reason I want you to wear my coat is that it has my scent. They know me. In fact I’ve known White Wolf, the alpha male, since he was a pup. I don’t want to kid you—we’re in dicey waters. Wolves aren’t dogs—they’re wild animals. It’s dangerous to trust any wild animal. But I think we’ve got a great chance of this working.”

      He’d reached her by then. The blasted man was so tall that she had to tilt her face to meet his eyes. “If you’re trying to be reassuring, I hate to tell you, but you’re failing big time. I’m real close to throwing up.”

      “Nah. You’re staying real СКАЧАТЬ