To Trust a Wolf Page 4

  Bryn could hear the caring and concern in Logan’s voice and it made her smile. “I’m okay. You don’t need to come charging over here.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “Really sure?”

  Bryn gave a brief laugh. Logan’s worry filled her with warmth of a different kind than that they had just shared. “Yes, I’m really sure.”

  “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at seven then, Bryn. Sleep well tonight, baby. Dream of me.”

  “Is that an order?” she teased.

  “A strong suggestion,” Logan rejoined.

  “In that case I’ll give it some thought,” she conceded. “Goodnight, Logan.”

  With Logan’s “goodnight, sweetheart” bringing a smile to her lips, Bryn hit the talk button on the phone, cutting the connection. Logan had been so sweet and understanding. And so commanding. She hugged tight the happiness that surged through her. She’d subconsciously longed for a man who would have the confidence and strength of character to dominate her, not with cruelty, but with love and caring. And all those endearments, she thought. Sweetheart, baby, honey. “I like it,” she murmured, and stretched luxuriously on the sofa. Rising, she picked up her discarded panties and headed to the bathroom for a nice hot shower.

  On the way, revelation struck.

  “I came without a vibrator. Yes!”

  Chapter Four

  Ready promptly at seven, Bryn waited nervously for Logan’s arrival. Dressed for the warm August weather, she wore a dress of peach-colored gauze that fell to mid-calf. It had short sleeves, a deep, scooped neckline and delicate embroidery on the bodice. The full skirt fluttered delicately in the breeze. Sandals with peach-colored straps adorned her slim feet and she’d painted her finger and toenails to match. She’d had a wonderful night’s sleep, and in fact, had had a very nice—if somewhat confusing—dream about Logan. Something to do with a sultry moonlit night and a walk in the forest, which culminated in a passionate interlude at the side of a cool stream.

  Everything in the dream had seemed so sharp and clear, except Logan and herself. She knew it was him, could feel him and taste him but she couldn’t see him. Except for his eyes. Golden, amber eyes that glowed with an otherworldly luminescence. Eyes that should have been frightening but were strangely compelling.

  Bryn put those thoughts away as Logan’s car pulled into the drive. Her insides clenched. She’d hoped she would get over the fluttering stomach that attacked every time she saw him. Apparently it wasn’t going to happen tonight.

  He gracefully exited the car and walked to the porch where she waited in dazed silence. “Oh my god,” she breathed. The reality of the situation rolled over her like an avalanche. “I’m going out with a studmuffin.”

  Logan walked with the smooth, sure glide of a predator certain of its mastery. He was dressed simply in black and white. Black boots, tight black jeans and a loose white shirt opened at the neck to reveal the beginning of the crisp dark curls that she knew must cover the expanse of his hard-muscled chest.

  The setting sun shimmered in his sable hair, displaying flowing glints of gold and red. He reached up and removed the sunglasses that shaded his eyes and brought them to bear on her unmoving form, enfolding her in the golden warmth of his gaze.

  A shiver of recognition passed over her—the fundamental recognition of the female when she acknowledges the presence of an alpha male. Alpha males required submission. Needs she’d never fully acknowledged or explored came to the fore. Visions of being dominated, all control taken away, caused roils of agitation and confusion.

  Bryn was consumed with conflicting emotions, from pure primal lust to a fear that prompted her need for self-preservation. To put herself in this man’s power, to give him her trust, was the most tempting and terrifying thing she had ever faced.

  She forced herself to remain still, though she felt the urge to turn and run, locking herself in and him out. She bravely met his admiring gaze.

  Logan approached the porch and studied Bryn. She looked sweet and innocent in her gauzy peach-colored dress. Her tawny blonde hair shone and the color of her dress accented the light golden tint of her smooth, warm skin. A silent growl rumbled though Logan’s chest. He knew the passion that hid under that guileless exterior. The big, bad wolf was eager to play. To the casual observer she seemed cool and composed, but Logan could sense the turmoil within. His highly acute vision detected the dilation of her pupils and the darkening of the surrounding iris as her emotions whirled. He could smell the beginnings of her arousal as well as the fear that tainted it.

  The instinctive need to take the female of his choice rode him hard. Had she been any other woman he would let his dominant nature rule and take what he wanted. His past partners had been savvy to his needs and expectations and knew that theirs was but a temporary arrangement. There was no need for caution or stealth. Mutual hungers were fed, both partners were satisfied, and the relationship ended without anger or recrimination.

  Bryn was unexpected. That she was his mate was indisputable, and his right to take her undeniable, but in spite of her sometimes tough and prickly exterior, she was possessed of a tender heart and a gentle soul. And she had been hurt. Her trust betrayed, her confidence undermined.

  The wolf knew of her need to be dominated and controlled. The man knew of her need for tenderness and reassurance. To push too hard in any direction would bring failure. Together, his dual nature sought a balance that would bring them the reward of Bryn’s trust and love.

  Logan climbed the steps to the porch, his eyes steady and unwavering, he came to a halt in front of her. “You look beautiful, sweetheart.”

  “Thank you,” she replied shyly, sincerely pleased at his words of praise.

  “Now relax. There are no earthshaking decisions to be made. Nothing bad is going to happen. We’re going to get to know each other a little better and hopefully enjoy each other’s company. Okay?”

  Bryn nodded and felt herself relax just a fraction, until his hand came up to cup her chin and his mouth descended and settled over hers. Her tension level went sky-high, leveled out and collapsed as she melted into the warmth of his tender kiss. His lips moved slowly over hers, rubbing and sliding until they found the perfect fit. Bryn’s lips parted on a sigh and Logan’s tongue glided in with languorous ease, slowly exploring the heated cavern of her mouth. His tongue grazed hers, petting and encouraging her participation. Bryn willingly complied and followed his tongue back into his mouth to begin her own slow, sultry explorations.

  Logan growled his approval and reluctantly pulled back, ending the kiss. “Unless you want the evening to end right now—with me taking you here on the porch—I suggest we get going,” he warned, his words tempered by a teasing smile.

  Bryn blushed as the memory of last night’s phone sex session crossed her mind. “Let’s go,” she insisted. Knowing all too well how easily Logan roused her desire, she grabbed his hand and pulled him across the porch and down the steps.

  “By the way, I forgot to thank you,” he said with a twitch of his lips.

  “For what?” Bryn asked as Logan seated her in the passenger seat. She watched as he rounded the car and eased into the driver’s seat.

  “For what?” she questioned again, frowning in puzzlement.

  Logan started the car and backed out the driveway. “I don’t believe I’ve ever been called a studmuffin before.”

  Stunned silence filled the car, then Bryn began to sputter. “How did you…you couldn’t have heard…Logan!”

  Masculine laughter filled the car as it accelerated and glided smoothly down the street.

  * * * * *

  Several hours later the remnants of their meal was cleared away and Bryn gave Logan a considering look. He’d been such a change from her usual dates. His manners were without fault, he was polite and considerate of her as well as the waitstaff. His sense of humor was sharp and delightful. He spoke with intelligence and wit on a variety of subjects. His inquisitiv
e nature drew her as they explored each other with carefully worded inquiries.

  And through it all, he sparked a level of excitement within her that she was hard-pressed to keep in check. The heated look in his eyes drifted over her skin like ghostly fingers until she felt scorched. Anticipation simmered and all trepidation seemed to disappear as she contemplated the possibilities.

  O’Neal’s had been the perfect choice for their first date. The booths were high-backed and cozy, giving the diners the illusion of privacy. The decor was elegant, but not glacial. As to dress, one could be as formal or relaxed as one wished. And the food was out of this world excellent. But what really put it over the top in Bryn’s book was its familiarity. In this situation, with Logan’s presence so exciting and nerve-racking, familiar surroundings helped keep her calm.

  Their waitress stopped by to refill their glasses of iced tea, causing a pause in the conversation. Bryn rested her chin in her hand and studied Logan thoughtfully.

  “What deep, dark thought is roaming through your head, sweet?” Logan inquired, smiling.

  “Why do I get the feeling that sometimes you can read my mind?” Bryn asked with perfect seriousness, whimsically wondering if he could picture the thoughts forming in her head. “You can’t, can you?”

  Logan scoffed. “Hardly.”

  He reached out and gently grazed his fingers down the silken skin of her cheek. “You have very expressive eyes. And I’ve always been adept at reading body language.”

  “Oh?” Bryn was intrigued. “What does my body language tell you?”

  Logan became serious as he considered her. “You’re relaxing, your movements are natural, not tense or studied. Your eyes meet mine directly, without embarrassment, and with a certain amount of speculation. Your conversation is smooth, not stilted. You’re opening yourself up to me, revealing yourself.

  “I’d say you’re losing your fear of what’s developing between us. You’re enjoying my company. You’re happy. And by the slight darkening of your eyes every now and then, I’d say you’re wondering what it will be like when we make love.”

  Bryn listened in amazed silence. It felt like he was looking into her soul. It seemed astounding that such an open and easy connection had formed between them so quickly. She felt a blush heat her cheeks and a frisson of nerves tighten her chest as his last remark hit home with such accuracy.

  “So how close am I?” His gaze, although teasing, demanded the truth.

  “Close, really close,” Bryn admitted bravely.

  “I intend to get closer, Bryn,” Logan vowed. The sultry heat in his voice caressed her.

  “Logan, I…” she began, then halted as Logan’s attention was diverted by the approach of a man and woman. Bryn noted the flare of his nostrils and the wary glint in his eyes. The couple were strangers to her, but apparently known to Logan. She watched him as he rose to his feet, his stance clearly aggressive.

  “Logan, you’re looking as handsome as ever.” The woman who spoke leaned in, placing a kiss on his cheek.

  “Lillian.” His expression remained neutral as he turned to the man who accompanied her. “I don’t believe I’ve met your friend, although he does seem familiar.”

  Logan’s words held a subtle challenge. Bryn glanced at him, puzzled by his attitude.

  The man held out his hand. “Reece Cofield,” he introduced himself. “And you’re right, we’ve never been formally introduced.”

  Bryn examined the couple curiously.

  The woman was tall and dark with exotic features, her medium-length hair a smooth, stylish wave. She wore a short, slinky, black dress that sported a flirty fringe at the hem, which ended mid-thigh, revealing shapely legs. The three-inch heels of her—as Bryn thought of them—slut shoes, added to the overall picture of sex on the hoof.

  The man was her equal in height and wholesomely handsome, with sandy blond hair and blue eyes. Bryn found his somewhat deferential behavior toward Logan curious.

  Taking possession of Logan’s arm, Lillian turned her attention to Bryn. “Introduce me to your companion, Logan,” she ordered playfully.

  “Bryn Roydan, meet Lillian Adair and her friend, Reece Cofield.”

  “Aren’t you just the sweetest thing,” Lillian declared in a sugary tone dripping with venom. “I just love that dress, dear. You’re so fortunate to be able to pull off the ‘schoolmarm’ look.”

  Instead of being angry, amusement bubbled inside Bryn as she raised an eyebrow at Lillian’s backhanded compliment. “Why, thank you,” Bryn returned. “I envy you, though. Your outfit is stunning. Anyone without your class and sophistication would look like just another high-class hooker.”

  Two strangled snorts of male amusement brought a glare from Lillian, who regrouped and headed in another direction. She was determined to take this puny human down a peg. Her hand caressed Logan’s arm. “I’ve missed you, Logan. I look forward to our next night together.”

  A swirl of conflicting emotions emanated from the four, suddenly thrown into a frozen tableau.

  Bryn’s reaction, a prompt twinge of hurt, was quickly hidden. A quick glance in his direction revealed Logan’s fast-fading amusement being replaced by anger and disgust. Logan’s past was his own business, she realized. Still, confronted with the knowledge that he had had a relationship with this beautiful, if totally bitchy, female was a blow. She avoided the glance he sent in her direction.

  Instead she redirected her attention to Lillian and was somewhat surprised to see a flash of regret in her eyes as she gazed at Reece. To Bryn, Lillian’s reaction seemed to reveal her feelings for the man. So why humiliate him this way?

  Chagrin and disappointment seemed to radiate from Reece. Anger simmered in his eyes as he neatly peeled Lillian away from Logan.

  “Come on, Lillian,” he urged, breaking the frozen silence. “I’m sure Bryn and Logan have better things to do than stand around chitchatting.”

  Turning at Reece’s urging, Lillian dropped her purse, spilling the contents. She uttered a cry of dismay. “Oh dear, how clumsy of me!”

  Logan and Reece bent to retrieve her scattered belongings, each anxious, for different reasons, to help Lillian on her way. “Bryn, dear, there’s a lipstick right by your foot if you’d be so kind,” she pointed out sweetly.

  Before so artfully dumping her purse, Lillian had palmed a small vial of liquid in her hand. With everyone’s attention diverted, no one noticed as she poured it with surreptitious haste into Bryn’s waiting glass. Her expression held smug amusement before she cleared it.

  With her possessions restored, Lillian took Reece’s arm, thanking them for their help. “Have a wonderful evening,” she trilled. Her knowing smirk was hidden as she turned and led Reece away.

  Logan resumed his seat and met Bryn’s expectant look. “One night, two years ago,” he stated, agitation making him run a restless hand through his hair. “Hell, not even the night. I knew it was a mistake as soon as it happened.”

  “You apparently made a big impression on her,” Bryn pointed out, unknowingly sipping her doctored tea.

  Logan grimaced. “Lillian’s not impressionable. She collects men. It intrigues her when someone turns her down. It’s the ‘wanting the unattainable’ syndrome. If I’d fawned all over her she’d have thrown me over.” He paused thoughtfully. “If Cofield wants her to take him seriously, he’d better start showing a little backbone. Lillian doesn’t respond to kindness, she’s too much the dominating bitch. She needs someone whose strength equals her own.”

  Bryn’s eyebrows rose at Logan’s in-depth analysis of Lillian. “You seem to know her pretty well for someone you only spent a few hours with.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm.

  Logan grinned, unperturbed by Bryn’s waspish observation and secretly enjoying his mate’s possessive behavior. “I’m also a very observant student of human nature, baby.”

  Her “hmmm” was filled with dubiousness, but she dropped the subject. Logan’s voice rang with sincerity and his eyes he
ld unquestionable truth. She leaned forward, pinning him with her gaze. “Logan, what do you do?”

  “Do?” Here we go, he thought. This was going to be tricky.

  “You know, for a living. I’ve never heard you or anyone else mention what kind of work you do.”

  Logan mentally crossed his fingers. “I guess you could say I’m self-employed.”

  “As what?” Bryn inquired.

  “As a sort of consultant,” Logan embroidered, pleased to be skating somewhat close to the truth.

  Bryn continued to probe. “Whom do you consult with and about what?”

  Logan knew he couldn’t dodge her questions with vague generalities for long. “As to the what, I consult on many topics, I’m sort of a glorified troubleshooter. And the whom? That’s going to have to remain confidential for now.”

  Bryn’s brows drew together and she gave him a sort of frowning smile. “You interest me, Logan. You’re not a spy are you?”

  Logan laughed and denied the accusation. “I’ll tell you in time, honey,” he promised, “but first you and I are going to have to have a very serious discussion.” Forestalling any new questions, Logan rose, reaching for his wallet to pay the waiting check. “Are you ready to go?”

  “I am,” she conceded, allowing him his less-than-satisfactory explanation. She followed Logan’s example and rose from her seat. While he counted out bills to pay the check she reached for her iced tea and downed the rest of the contents of the icy glass.

  The night air had cooled somewhat and Bryn welcomed the warmth of the arm Logan draped over her shoulders as they exited the restaurant. Walking to the car, she felt a sudden swirl of dizziness. She grasped Logan’s arm, holding on until the spinning stopped.

  “What is it, baby? Are you all right?” Logan’s concerned face swam into focus.

  “I felt a little dizzy there for a minute. I hope I’m not coming down with something,” she commented, disgusted at the thought. “I hate to be sick.”