Beloved Wolf. Kasey Michaels

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СКАЧАТЬ wolf. And once Sophie had gone out of his life, he’d reverted to that lone-wolf state. Complete unto himself. He didn’t need Sophie, he didn’t need anyone. At least that was what he’d been telling himself.

      He’d been lying to himself.

      It had been a long time since the thirty-one-year-old River James had felt helpless, defeated. It had not, however, been quite so long since he’d been angry. His temper had been his biggest problem when he’d come to Joe Colton’s house as a teenager, and even if that anger had turned into something closer to pride, it was never far from the surface—not where Sophie Colton was concerned.

      He’d been angry with her for pestering him. He’d been angry with her for growing up, for making him aware of her as more than his “sister.” He’d been angry with her when he’d kissed her, when she’d tasted so good and he’d wanted her so much.

      He’d been angry when she’d done the right thing and gone away, angry when she’d stayed away. Angry when she’d brought that idiot Chet Wallace to the ranch and announced that she was actually going to marry that grinning, three-piece suit—her engagement telling River that she didn’t want someone like him, but wanted someone who was his complete opposite.

      Now he was angry with her for lying in that hospital bed, looking so damn fragile, so damn beautiful, and for making him wake up, yet again, to the fact that he loved her.

      Had always loved her. Would always love her.

      Two

       J oe Colton leaned over his daughter’s bed and squeezed her hand. “Sophie? Sophie, honey? It’s Dad.”

      Sophie stirred slightly on the bed, winced, then opened her eyes. “Daddy?” she asked, her voice weak.

      Joe nodded, unable to speak. She hadn’t called him Daddy in years. Now he was “Dad,” sometimes, when she was being silly, “Senator.” But she was still his baby girl, and as she looked up at him, as her bruised bottom lip began to tremble, he would have cut out his own heart if it could take away just a little of her pain.

      “Oh, Daddy, it—it was horrible,” Sophie told him, squeezing her eyes shut. “But I fought him, Daddy, I fought him. Couldn’t…Michael…couldn’t let anything hurt you and Mommy again.”

      “Hush, baby,” Joe said, carefully stroking Sophie’s hair. “Just rest, baby. All we want you to do is rest.”

      Mary came into the room, and Joe stepped back from the bed to join River as the nurse took Sophie’s vital signs, checked her IV.

      “She’s sleeping again?” River asked the senator.

      “I think so,” Joe said, nodding. “Look, River, it’s been a long night, and I know you have to get back to the ranch. That new stallion’s coming in today, right? So you just go, and I’ll get a hotel room and stay until Sophie can come back to the ranch with us. Okay?”

      A muscle ticked in River’s cheek. He wasn’t being dismissed. He knew that. Joe just wanted to be alone with his daughter. “What about Meredith? Do you think she’ll want me to fly her here, to see Sophie, be with you?”

      Joe Colton pressed his fingers against his eyes and shook his head. “I’ll phone her later. Right now I just want to stay here.”

      River nodded and patted Joe’s back. “I’ll call around, make a reservation for you, and then head back to the ranch. You’ll phone later? Keep me—keep us informed?”

      Joe didn’t answer him. Mary brushed past them, leaving the room, and Joe headed toward the bed once more, dragging a utilitarian metal chair with him, then sat down beside Sophie, obviously dug in for the duration.

      River left them alone and headed back down the hallway, toward the elevators. He was family, yes, and had been since his teenage years. He wasn’t being dismissed, pushed away. But blood was blood, and Joe and Sophie were blood. River understood that, respected that.

      The elevator doors opened as he approached, and Chet Wallace stepped out, looking as fresh and unwrinkled as if he’d just come out of the shower. His hair was combed, his face had been freshly shaved, his tie was snug against his throat. He could have been on his way to a morning meeting.

      “Wallace,” River bit out, taking hold of the man’s elbow as Chet walked past him without so much as a nod. “Where’ve you been? Consulting with your tailor?”

      “I beg your pardon,” Chet answered, trying to shake off River’s hand, without success. “Do I know—Oh, wait. You’re one of the employees at Hacienda del Alegria, aren’t you? Sophie’s parents’ ranch? I think I remember you now. Are the senator and his wife here already? I went back to my condo, caught some sleep, showered and changed.”

      “How nice for you,” River said, finally letting go of Chet’s elbow. “The senator is with Sophie now,” he continued, motioning for Wallace to follow him into a small alcove set aside as a visitors’ waiting room. “Let’s talk.”

      “I’d rather speak with the senator,” Chet said, but River’s slitted-eye glare seemed to make him reconsider, and he followed River into the alcove. “Now, look—”

      “No, Wallace, you look,” River shot back, knowing he was going to have to perform a minor miracle if he expected to keep his temper in check. The man had gone home? Grabbed a few winks and taken a shower? No-good son of a bitch. “My name is James. River James, one of Joe and Meredith’s foster children, not that you need to know any of that. What I need to know is why you let Sophie walk home alone last night. Or do the police have that wrong?”

      Chet looked at River for a few moments, then shot his cuffs. He was a tall man, as tall as River, but that was where their similarities ended. Chet was sleek, pretty boy handsome, the kind of guy who wore designer sweats as he worked out at his designer gym. Shooting his cuffs, wordlessly pointing out that he was a successful man wearing a six-hundred-dollar suit, was an action meant to intimidate River.

      Yeah, sure. River didn’t think so. He just stood there, glaring at Chet Wallace, a tic working in his cheek, his hands itching to take the stylishly dressed man apart, piece by designer-label piece.

      Chet broke eye contact first, his artificially tanned cheeks flushing slightly as he actually stepped back a pace, as if it had finally hit him that River James was a wild animal searching for prey, and that he was reacting pretty much like a deer caught out in the open.

      In self-defense, Chet went on the attack. “Now look—James, is it? I already spoke with the police. Yes, Sophie and I had dinner together last night, and then she decided to walk home. Four blocks, James, that’s all. As a matter of fact, I was just leaving the restaurant myself when I saw all the police cars and the ambulance. I went to check and found Sophie. I’m the one who identified her.”

      “Well, bully for you. Why did she decide to walk home, Wallace?” River asked, putting his cowboy hat on, then looping his thumbs through his belt. “You two have a little spat? That is what you’d call it, right? A little spat?”

      Chet’s hand went to his Windsor knot, and he lifted his chin as he nervously shifted the tie from side to side. “We had a slight disagreement, yes,” he conceded. “Not that it’s any concern of yours.”

      “I don’t care if you had the mother of all knockdown drag-outs, Wallace,” СКАЧАТЬ