Rescued By The Wolf. Kristal Hollis

      “I do not.”

      “You rubbed it while we waited for the emergency responders after the accident, again at the hospital, before you fell asleep, at the diner when we ate breakfast.”

      “Oh,” Grace said softly.

      So Cassie hadn’t been off the mark about Rafe’s observation skills.

      Strange that he would watch Grace so carefully after he confessed no interest in becoming friends. She bit back a smile. Maybe he was warming to the idea.

      Music filtered over the chatter of people spilling from the lounge into the lobby. Rafe cupped the back of her arm, navigating them through the masses.

      He stabbed his finger at the elevator call button and mumbled something about the damned crowd.

      “There’s a singles convention going on.”

      “Is that why you came down this weekend?” Raw surprise registered before he blanked his expression.

      “Um, no. I don’t hook up with strangers.”

      “You prefer friends.”

      “That would be the benefit I mentioned.” She poked the button as if that would help the elevator to appear faster. “You’re not eligible, you know. Since we aren’t friends.”

      Rafe’s face tilted up.

      “Did you hear that?” Grace looked around for the source of a growl. Not a service or therapy dog in sight.

      Maybe she’d imagined the sound.

      The elevator dinged.

      Ushering her inside, Rafe’s hand slipped down her back and skimmed her bottom.

      Her body, having just cooled from his last touch, ignited again. She couldn’t remember a man revving her up as fast as Rafe could, and he wasn’t trying.

      “Thanks for the escort. I know the way from here.”

      Rafe studied her for a moment, then stepped forward. The doors closed before she could push him out.

      Mercifully, the stone-silent ride to the fifth floor was quick. She shoved the card-key into the electronic lock. The device blinked red to taunt her. She tried again.

      Still red.

      No matter how she jammed the card into the reader, the light blazed red.

      Rafe’s fingers closed around her wrist. The gentleness of his touch scrambled her brain and jellied her knees. He drew back her hand and eased the key from her death grip. Turning it over, he drew the key through the slot.

      The result?

      A perky, green glow.

      Grace wanted to slap him.

      Rafe pushed opened the door.

      Her breath caught in her throat. The maids had turned off all the lights after they’d cleaned the suite.

      “Wait here.” Rafe entered the room.

      Grace lingered in the doorway, watching his muscles bunch and flex as he moved silently through the cozy living area to turn on the lights. He stepped into the bedroom. Thankfully, housekeeping had straightened the rumpled queen-sized bed and picked up the towels she had dropped on the floor.

      He turned on the television and turned down the sound. “Better?”

      Nodding, she nearly choked on emotion.

      Rafe, a man who barely knew her, showed more concern for her deep-seated fear of the dark than her own family.

      He crossed the room as she stepped inside. Lifting his hand to her face, he grazed his thumb against her temple. He frowned, gingerly fingering the residual bump at her hairline. Then, he drew his hand down the side of her face and brushed her hair behind her ear.

      She stood still, not daring to breathe.

      His soft-whiskered jaw skimmed her cheek and he nosed the shell of her ear before nuzzling the sweet spot behind it.

      Her heart seemed to flutter into her throat. Her breaths quickened and her body hummed.

      “Sleep tight, Goldilocks,” he murmured.

      Grace didn’t remember closing her eyes. By the time she opened them, Rafe had vanished.

       Chapter 9

      Rafe cut off the lights on the truck and stared at the simple little A-frame house, the personal touches he remembered screamingly absent.

      A fragile, feminine she-wolf, his mate, Lexi, had loved soft, frilly, pretty things. She had transformed a plain, wooden box house into something akin to a fairy-tale cottage filled with flowers and pillows, candles and gnomes.

      She’d loved garden gnomes.

      Now the wildflower patch in front of the house had withered away and the gnomes had been relocated to Maico’s Botanical Conservatory where she had worked. He always thought the gnomes would be happy there because she certainly had been.

      Although he’d given the box Ronni packed to the director, Rafe had not actually visited the public gardens since the shooting. He couldn’t.

      Same with this place.

      The counselors at rehab had said his ability to face his former home would be a ruthless challenge to his sobriety, but one he needed to overcome.

      Instead, he’d given the house and small parcel of land to Ronni and Alex upon their arrival. He’d never visited them here, preferring to meet them at the diner or talk briefly on the phone.

      He wasn’t giving them the brush-off. He simply wasn’t much of a talker. Most people found his silence awkward and thought he wasn’t paying attention. If he didn’t have anything pertinent to add to the conversation, he didn’t join in. Didn’t mean he wasn’t listening.

      The porch light came on and the front door opened.

      He climbed out of the truck.

      “Rafe? Are you here for more boxes?” Ronni stood in the entryway. Since moving in, she had slowly packed away the remnants of his former life. Box by box he distributed everything to where he thought Lexi would want her things to go.

      Clothes went to the charity thrift store. So did the dishes and housewares. Ronni had brought her own.

      More personal items he planned give to his former mother-in-law.

      “I’ll take what you have.” He stepped on the first porch step.

      “Are you all right? You look a little peaked.”

      “Rough day.” Being surrounded by baby stuff, and Grace.

      I should’ve kissed her.

      No, his lips needed to stay far away from hers.

      He had a bad feeling about the situation. One of those gut-twisting “no matter what you do it’s gonna get fucked up” type of feelings.

      “Do you want to come inside?” Ronni squinted at him with a worried-mom look.

      “Maybe next time.” He’d had too much upheaval today. “I want to talk with Alex.”

      “I grounded him for being out after curfew on Friday night. He won’t do it again, I promise.” Ronni rolled her lips together.

      “He’s a good kid and hasn’t done anything the other wolflings haven’t tried.”

      Ronni breathed a sigh of relief.

      “We need to make some changes so he doesn’t get into any more trouble. Would you call him out?”

      “Alex, come here,” she yelled over her shoulder. “Bring the boxes on