Название: Wolf Hunter
Автор: Linda Thomas-Sundstrom
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Зарубежная фантастика
Серия: Mills & Boon Nocturne
isbn: 9781474028042
isbn:
“Put me down.” Her voice sounded fairly strong and demanding.
The golden beast stayed infuriatingly silent.
“You forgot my boots,” she said without looking up at him. “And I’ve forgotten the magic word. Please put me down.”
“It would be better if you directed me where to take you, if that isn’t to the closest hospital.” He spoke in the same sexy voice that had first roped her in, though it now carried a trace of anxiousness.
“What happened?”
“You’ve been shot.”
“What?”
“You’ve been shot, and we need to get help. We need that leg bandaged. I can’t just set you down if you can’t walk out of here. I can’t take that chance.”
He gave his head a toss to move the glossy curtain of hair that had fallen to cover half of his face. The gesture tweaked another ache deep inside Abby.
“We weren’t wrong about this park and what goes on here,” he said. “I’m sorry you had to take the brunt of that. You shouldn’t have been out here in the first place. Spending any time here...well, both of us should have known better.”
Frigging park. She’d actually been shot after making the biggest mistake of her life so far? Was that some sort of Karma?
“Bullet?”
He nodded. “Only grazed.”
“Who would do that?”
“The shot was probably meant for me.”
That announcement didn’t make Abby feel better or provide a clearer picture of what had just happened. She glanced around again, wondering who would shoot at this guy without the onset of a full moon.
She didn’t like what came to mind.
Could it be a gang warning them to keep off their turf? Other than that, who prided himself on being a kind of guardian angel for the darker areas of Miami, knowing what sort of things inhabited those places?
Good old Dad.
But Sam Stark and the team in residence this month hadn’t mentioned coming out tonight. They had nothing to gain from hurting anyone in human form, and none of them possessed the ability she had to detect species other than their own. There was no reason for the team to hunt. Plus, her father wouldn’t have missed a target. As a sharpshooter, Sam’s marksmanship was first rate.
Abby turned her head to thoughtfully scan the dark to the east of where they walked.
Couldn’t be Sam. Unless her father had in fact been looking for her, and had taken a potshot at the man keeping her from doing her job.
Unless Sam had witnessed the sexual escapade and been angry enough to get that point across.
In that case, maybe her father had meant to hurt her.
She checked out her leg and the raw skin on the outside of her thigh. Blood hadn’t pooled there, so it was, in fact, only a graze. Still, it stung like hell, and her nerves hadn’t calmed down much.
Can’t be Sam.
Nevertheless, she couldn’t be entirely sure.
The object of her sexual fantasy continued to hold her. If her father remained in the area and took better aim now, he’d have a twofer. With the next shot, Sam would lose an important piece of his business on the one hand, while bagging a Were with the other, without knowing his daughter’s lover was Were. The same beautiful wolf that actually appeared to care about what happened to her, and might even care more than her father did.
How would she explain any of this at a hospital?
“I can walk,” she said.
“How fast?”
“Fast enough.”
Broad shoulders strained against the fabric of his open shirt. When the Were turned his head, Abby felt tension ruffle through him that made her senses stir uncomfortably.
“We’ve lost them for now. Too many others patrol the sidelines of this one section of the park for gangbangers to willingly trespass so close to the boulevard,” he explained.
“Yet they’re not gone.”
That remark earned her a sober glance.
“No,” he agreed. “They’re out there somewhere, waiting.”
“For what?”
“Possibly to try another shot, better aimed this time.”
“Why would they go after you, if, in fact, they did?” she asked.
“You mean a reason that didn’t involve getting lucky with you?”
The remark sounded like forced lightness—an excuse that didn’t work, a cover-up that sent Abby’s mind into overdrive.
She tried again. “Who are you?”
“Just a guy.”
“Oh no. Not just a guy. It doesn’t take a genius to know that.”
When he didn’t respond, Abby said, “Okay. Listen. We don’t owe each other anything, like sharing names, phone numbers or Sunday dinners.” She glanced at the surroundings for the source of his nervousness, shoving aside her own discomfort.
“I don’t feel anything remotely like the kind of pathetic female in need of carting around or being rescued from her own mistakes,” she said. “I can manage a grazed leg.”
When he looked at her questioningly, a prickle of fear underscored Abby’s sense of balance. Uncertain about whether this guy’s closeness caused the flutter in her belly, or if something else wasn’t quite right, she gritted her teeth. The icy chill at the base of her neck brought up a fresh round of anxiety.
In contrast, the shirt pressed against her hip and shoulder felt soft and silky. Abby recalled all too well the smoothness of the Were’s back beneath it, and how she had marred that skin with her nails.
Holding up one hand, she saw blood under her fingernails. She remembered the heat-tempered smell of blood in the air. That had been his blood. Now, the scent of hers mingled with the memory of his.
Another jolt of pain struck, slightly milder this time and ending up as a dull, persistent throb that Abby had to compartmentalize. Danger lurked. They had to get out of the park.
“Put me down and I’ll be on my way. You don’t have to take me anywhere. You aren’t responsible for what happened, and don’t have to wait around to get to know me better.”
“That’s a bit presumptuous, don’t you think? Imagining that I’d want to know you better?”
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