Rescued By The Wolf. Kristal Hollis

      He brandished a cocky little smile and his eyebrows twitched.

      Heat flashed through Grace’s body. In defiance, she casually crossed her legs. Men relegated to the league of special acquaintances were not supposed to get her hot and bothered. Maybe she needed to rethink his classification.

       Chapter 6

      Rafe sped toward the Walker’s Run Resort. He’d gladly pay any fine as long as he delivered Grace before he did something stupid.

      The conglomeration of smells in the diner had masked her true scent, giving him a chance to breathe and relax.

      Closed inside the tow truck, though, her soft, feminine musk engulfed his senses. His skin prickled with awareness and his thoughts turned to long, luscious kisses and dangerously indulgent caresses.

      He lowered the windows, hoping the rush of cool air would clear his head. A slight shiver shook Grace’s shoulders but she didn’t complain. Humming softly to herself, she continued staring out the window.

      Hands clamped on the steering wheel, he steeled himself against the urge to pull off the road, haul her against him and warm her with his heat while his hands roamed her curves, preferably while they were both naked.

      She’d slept in his bed, worn his clothes and shared his food. To a Wahyan male, she was practically his.

      Only she wasn’t. She couldn’t be.

      He was merely horny.

      Ever since his mate died, he’d been celibate.

      Moon-fucks didn’t count. Wahyas needed sex during the full moon to keep their hormones in balance.

      Out of necessity, he and Loretta Presley, a widow with three kids, had become exclusive moon-fuck partners. Their encounters were always in wolf form and they avoided each other socially, as agreed, to ensure no emotional entanglements.

      Almost two weeks past the last full moon, Rafe shouldn’t feel the urge for sex. Yet Grace’s scent bombarded him with such tantalizing force he could think of little else.

      Different from the animalistic drive the full moon unleashed, the pull toward Grace was tangled in pure, unadulterated desire.

      He punched the buttons on the console to turn on the heater and sliced the vents to blow in her direction. A blast of heat blew back the loose strands of her hair, revealing the discolored Ping-Pong-ball-sized lump at her temple.

      She gave him a side glance, then adjusted the vent so that the warm air hit her arms.

      His stiffly curled fingers made it difficult to turn the wheel. The sooner he and Grace parted company, the better off he’d be. The last thing he wanted was her scent mucking up his life.

      He parked in front of the Walker’s Run Resort and hopped out of the vehicle. A pack sentinel, working as a valet, reached for the passenger door. An instinctual warning growl rolled from Rafe’s throat. The barely twenty-something wolfan backed away.

      Grace’s warm fingers clutched Rafe’s outstretched hand as she stepped down from the vehicle. The energy sparked from the touch buzzed up his arm, down his spine and spread into every nerve.

      It wasn’t the kind of electrical surge that could drop a man to the ground in convulsions. This was a gentle quiver of warmth, the kind that slowly saturated the skin, seeped into every cell, thawed the deepest, darkest, most frozen places within and, therefore, was the most dangerous vibration of all.

      Fidgeting with the bag slung across her body, Grace strolled past the valet. “Hi, Jimmy. No more drive-through runs for me. The Beetle is out of commission for a while.”

      “Anytime you want something, give me a holler. Twenty-four seven. I’ll be at your beck and call.” Jimmy grinned with far too much interest.

      Rafe Gibbs-smacked him as he passed. “Not necessary or recommended.”

      As his and Grace’s steps synchronized, Rafe’s hand gravitated to her lower back as if touching her was as natural as breathing.

      The scent of cinnamon and cloves greeted them inside the resort. A few people with luggage in tow stood at the guest services counter. An older man lounged in a seating area reading the paper. The amicable chatter from the dining room didn’t mask the subtle hum of the descending elevator.

      The doors parted with a swish.

      “Grace!” Cassie Walker, a petite, abundantly pregnant woman with curly red hair, stepped out. “I’ve been looking for you. Where have you been?”

      Her gaze traveled up and down Grace and cut to him. “Rafe? Why is she wearing pajama pants and your shirt?”

      “Long story,” Grace said. “Before I begin, trust me when I say I’m okay.”

      “Why doesn’t that make me feel better?” Cassie’s brow creased.

      “Doc said Grace needs to rest. Would you make sure she gets it?”

      “Doc?” Cassie’s eyes widened. “What happened?”

      “A small fender bender, nothing serious.” Grace’s gaze lingered on Rafe and he suddenly didn’t want to leave.

      “Call me if you need anything. My number is in your phone.” An impulsive act last night that might bite him in the ass sooner rather than later.

      Walking away, he consciously forced his muscles to relax instead of conspiring against him to make him look over his shoulder.

      “Rafe, wait!”

      Not the voice he would’ve expected.

      He turned and waited for Cassie to catch up.

      “What’s up, Red?”

      “I won’t ask about what happened between you and Grace last night. She’ll tell me all about it.”

      Rafe hoped she wouldn’t mention his state of undress. The fewer who knew that tidbit, the better. It was bad enough Tristan Durrance, the responding sheriff deputy, and a pack sentinel, had arrived before Doc got there with an old pair of sweats for Rafe to wear. He expected it would be a long time before Tristan would let him forget getting caught bare-ass by a human female.

      “I hope you used the opportunity to get to know her a little better,” Cassie continued. “Grace is like a sister to me and she’s become an important part of mine and Brice’s lives. Just as you are.”

      “What are you getting at, Red?”

      Laughter rose above the soft chatter of guests in the lobby. Rafe’s gaze slid to Grace, directing a family into silly poses as she took their picture next to an indoor totem pole with several wolf heads carved into the wood.

      “It’s okay to let people into your life again,” Cassie said. “People like Grace. She’s fun, and kind, and never meets a stranger.”

      “I’m managing fine with the way things are.”

      “Managing isn’t the same as living.” She touched his arm. “Trust me, I know.”

      * * *

      “Here you go, little mama.” Grinning, Grace held out a cup of hot tea she’d made in the microwave. Her posh suite at the Walker’s Run Resort was nothing short of a small apartment equipped with a kitchenette, a cozy living room, and a luxury bedroom with a balcony view of the forested mountainside. All compliments of Cassie’s in-laws, Gavin and Abigail Walker, the resort’s owners.

      “Thank you.” Cassie, her best childhood friend, accepted the drink. They’d reconnected through social media after Cassie had married.

      The internet was Grace’s lifeline. Not only was the internet vital to her web design business, it helped her stay connected with friends all over the world. She needed