Greywolf Read online

  After living in New Orleans for 7 years, New Hampshire sure felt cold. It must only be about 40 degrees and windy to boot. It's a good thing she still had her winter coat from when she had lived in New York City.

  Now here she was, an hour later, looking for Johnson's Garage. The attendant at the gas station noticed her license plate and she told him she had just moved into town. He asked her if she had enough antifreeze since it was supposed to freeze tonight. She didn't want her radiator to crack, did she? But when she asked him to check, he sent her to Johnson's since he only sold gas and oil. So here she was, looking for the garage. And she still hadn't eaten and now it was almost dinner time.

  Altheia could hear the music blasting when she stepped out of her car. It sounded like the Grateful Dead. She entered the garage and looked around. Good Lord, you couldn't hear yourself think, it was so loud. This guy must be deaf, or soon would be. Someone was bent over the fender of a jeep, working under the hood. Nice buns, she thought.

  "Excuse me.” No response; apparently he couldn't hear her over all that noise. She hesitated a second but then stepped closer to catch his attention.

  Joe Hawk had left early to return Mrs. Higgen's car. Michael was finishing up the tune-up on Dan Thomas’ jeep while listening to a CD of the Grateful Dead. While he didn't usually like noise, the Dead sounded best at full volume, and since he didn't often get customers this late, he was indulging himself. The music matched the chaos of his emotions this close to the full moon. Only five more days and he could already feel the pull on his body. Through the years he had discovered that it affected him more than a normal werewolf, probably because he could transform any time. Thank God the bloodlust only raged that one night, or he'd leave a trail of carnage in his wake.

  Sensing rather than hearing the movement behind him, Michael swung around, ready to attack, clutching a wrench in his raised hand. Only well honed reflexes prevented him from hitting the petite female standing in front of him. She stepped back in alarm.

  Knowing he'd frightened her, he silently cursed his jumpy nerves. Reaching for the remote, he aimed it over her head and the music stopped. The silence was deafening.

  Altheia realized she had only startled him and really felt no fear. She was more intent on examining the fine specimen of manhood in front of her. He was even nicer from the front. The tee shirt molded his chest and shoulders, doing nothing to hide the muscles that rippled when he moved. And the jeans hugged his lower body like a well worn glove. If all the men in New Hampshire were like this one, she was glad she'd come.

  Raising her eyes, she noticed that his hair was an unusual shade of silver grey, tied at the back of his neck. Looking into his eyes, her breath caught in her throat. She found herself drowning in the sexiest blue eyes she had ever seen on a man. A ripple of unexpected sexual heat shot through her body and she found herself blushing in embarrassment. Why, the guy probably had a wife and six kids at home and here she was drooling over him like a cat in heat.

  Michael was also inspecting the female in front of him. She was definitely all woman. Long, wavy, chestnut hair and wide-open cinnamon brown eyes, about five feet three inches he'd guess, with large breasts that begged to be suckled and generous hips that a man could hold onto in bed. Just the type of woman he was attracted to. He noted that she was also looking him over. Interesting, he thought.

  Finally, gazing into her eyes, he was mesmerized by the myriad emotions that flashed across their surface. He saw her blush. Suddenly his senses perceived her arousal. He could smell her musky woman's scent laced with some sort of gingery perfume. That knowledge sent arrows of heat straight to his groin. Good heavens, he was behaving like an adolescent boy with his first girl!

  Altheia forced herself to take a deep breath to compose herself. “The guy from the gas station said to come here. I need help with my car. Are you Michael?"

  Michael struggled to get his libido under control. Taking the shop rag from his pocket, he slowly wiped his hands. Extending his hand in greeting, he smiled. “I'm Michael Greywolf. Sorry if I scared you, but I didn't hear you come in. How can I be of help?"

  Altheia placed her hand in his. She stifled a gasp as his fingers closed warmly around hers, flames of indecent lust spiraled through her body like a whirlwind. She'd never been aroused so quickly before. And never with a complete stranger. She fought to gain control over her body. Still looking into his eyes, she saw them flair with emotion. She felt him tense before quickly shuttering the look in his eyes.

  Oh God, she groaned, he must know what she was thinking. She was mortified. He must think she was nothing more than a common tramp.

  Michael's response to the touch of her hand in his had been much more immediate and physical. Like a flash flood that sped through his body, the heat from her fingers went straight to his groin. He felt himself begin to thicken and grow hard. Never had a woman made him respond like this before. It was all he could do to keep from grabbing her and taking her right here on the floor. He tensed, knowing she could see the lust glowing in his eyes. Quickly he clamped down on the emotion before he lost all control. Releasing her hand, he calmly tucked the rag in the front of his jeans, letting it trail down in front of him.

  He hoped she hadn't noticed the flagrant evidence of his arousal. Michael hadn't been this hot since he was thirteen and his father had taken him to a brothel where two women taught him the joy of pleasuring a woman. He tried to rein in the lust racing through him, but every breath he took reminded him that she was as aroused as he was. He had to get away from her.

  He forced himself to slowly turn away and walk over to the jeep he had been working on when she arrived. Pretending to work under the hood of the vehicle, he tried desperately to regain control over his errant libido.

  "So what's the problem with your car?” Michael asked over his shoulder.

  "I just moved here from New Orleans last night and I don't think I have enough antifreeze to protect it from the cold weather we're supposed to be getting. I need the radiator flushed and filled. Can you help?"

  "You're from New Orleans?” Michael asked as he turned around in surprise. “I was born there. My family moved when I was 13."

  "I'm afraid I only lived there for the last 7 years. My husband had an accident recently and I just didn't want to live there anymore."

  Husband? Disappointment surged through him. Somehow ... he had hoped ... Even though he knew he couldn't get involved, a small part of him really would have liked the chance to explore these feelings she aroused in him.

  "Well, the problem is, I was just about ready to close. I've been here since seven this morning.” He didn't want to lose her business however, so he offered her a solution. “Look. Why don't you leave your car here tonight? I'll keep it inside; the garage is heated, and I'll work on it tomorrow."

  "But how will I get home?” Not that she knew what other choice she had. “Is there a cab company in Jefferson?"

  "Yes, but it's not easy to get at dinner time. Tell you what, I'll take you home and deliver your car to you tomorrow,” he impulsively offered.

  "I couldn't ask you to do that,” she protested. “Besides, I have to stop at the grocery store. I have no food in the house yet. Not even instant coffee."

  "Sure you can,” he decided. “Give me your keys. I'll bring your car in and we can get out of here."

  She really didn't have much choice, she thought, handing him the keys.

  Michael got in the car and started it up. Good Lord, he thought, the car was permeated with her intoxicating scent. Closing his eyes, he indulged himself while pretending to let the car warm up. Then shaking his head, he quickly rolled down the window, taking a couple of deep breaths of crisp mountain air to clear his head. Slowly he pulled the car into the garage.

  He gave Altheia the keys to his van, telling her he'd be right there as soon as he locked up. Tossing the shop rag on the old desk in the office, he set the alarms and left the shop.

  Before pulling out onto the high
way, he paused, turning to Altheia. “I'd like to take you to dinner. There's a restaurant near the edge of town that serves a fairly decent steak."

  She looked at him, startled by the invitation. Was this some kind of pick-up? Had she looked that eager?

  Sensing her mistrust, Michael tried to explain. “Think of me as a kind of Welcome Wagon. I was going to have dinner there anyway.” Actually, he had planned on going straight home, but he didn't want to leave her just yet. “Besides, I'm starved and I really hate eating alone,” he pleaded, looking for all the world like a little boy begging for a cookie.

  Altheia laughed. “Actually, I'm so hungry I could eat the whole cow. I haven't eaten since last night."

  "My goodness, we can't have our newest resident starving now, can we? I'd better get you some nourishment quick.” Michael was thrilled. He'd be able to spend more time with her.

  After a quick stop at the grocery, they went to dinner. He was pleased to see she wasn't one of those rabbit eaters that just picked at a salad. She had a hearty appetite and didn't seem to be ashamed of it either. She'd even had a thick slice of apple pie with ice cream for dessert. He was really enjoying the company of this woman.

  After dinner, they relaxed over coffee and brandy. “So tell me, how did you come to settle in Jefferson? Seems like a long way from New Orleans,” he asked.

  She explained how you can switch jobs when you work for the post office and how she had swapped with a clerk from Grange and was renting his bungalow just west of Jefferson.

  "Is your husband going to join you?” he heard himself ask. He couldn't believe he'd asked such a question. He really didn't want her to think he was trying to pursue a relationship.

  She looked sad for a moment, then sighed. “He died in the accident. I'm a widow."

  Idiot, he thought. Real smooth. “I'm sorry. I really shouldn't have asked anyway,” he apologized. Secretly he was pleased that she was unattached.

  "That's all right. We hadn't been getting along for some time and were considering a divorce. I just keep remembering the man he was when I married him.” Squaring her shoulders, she looked at him and smiled engagingly. “Let's not talk about my past. I'm here to start a whole new life. Tell me, do you remember much about New Orleans?"

  They talked a little longer about New Orleans and Mardi Gras and chicory coffee and beignets. Altheia offered to bring him some after she got settled. It was the one thing she learned to make when she was there.

  Too soon, Michael thought, they finished their drinks and he could think of no other reasonable excuse to prolong taking her home. “By the way,” he inquired, “just where do you live?"

  "A few miles west of town off Route 2. It sits about three quarters of a mile from the highway and backs up against the National Forest."

  "You mean Jordon Kramer's place?” he asked in surprise.

  "That's it! You know where it is?” That would make it a lot easier; she wasn't sure she'd be able to find it again in the dark. She still had to get those reflectors for the trees.

  "I've met Jordon a few times, worked on his truck. His place is only about a mile and a half past mine. I hadn't realized he'd moved.” And only a half mile through the forest, he thought. He tried to ignore the thrill that went through him.

  What was it about this particular woman that had him wanting to pant at her feet? Why did he find the idea of just turning away so hard to accept? And why was he having such a hard time remembering why he was supposed to?

  Steeling himself against the physical contact, he helped her on with her coat. He led her out to drive her home, wishing this night never had to end.

  Michael shut off the van and turned to Altheia. “I'll help you carry in the groceries.” Entering the kitchen, she indicated for him to put the sacks on the counter. As he turned toward her, Jasmine pussyfooted into the room. Seeing Michael, her fur came up and she started to hiss. He froze. Cats understandably didn't like him, even though he had no arguments with them. “You have a cat,” he observed cautiously, trying not to give the cat reason to attack him. He really didn't want to think what he might do in that event.

  "Jasmine, you naughty girl. That's no way to treat a guest,” she admonished. Picking up the cat, she started to approach Michael. But the cat suddenly growled, and leaping from her arms, bid a hasty retreat from the room. “I'm so sorry. I don't know what's gotten into her, she's usually very friendly."

  Relaxing now that the cat was gone, he just shrugged. “It was nothing; cats sometimes don't like me. Maybe because I have a dog,” he fibbed.

  "Really, what kind? I like dogs, but they're difficult to keep in the city."

  "Oh, sort of a mixed breed. She looks like a wolf.” He figured it might ease her mind in case she ever caught sight of Koani. After all, they didn't live that far apart and she would likely catch sight of Koani or even Wolf at some time or another. “Well, I'd best be going."

  "Thank you for dinner. It was nice."

  "I'll call when your car is done tomorrow and arrange to drive it out.” Turning to leave, he hesitated in the doorway and turned around again. His breath caught in his throat; she was right in front of him, apparently to lock the door behind him after he'd left. Her scent made him dizzy, desire raging through his body like wildfire.

  Altheia was so surprised when he stopped in the doorway and turned around, she almost ran into him before she caught herself. Looking up, she saw him start. He hadn't expected her to move either. He stared at her with eyes that seemed to look right into her soul. Then with a groan, he raised his hands.

  Without a conscious thought, Michael reached out and pulled her hard against his chest. His hand slid to the back of her head, tilting it to the side as he lowered his mouth to hers. Her lips were like honey! His tongue traced her mouth, then slipped in when she sighed and her lips parted on their own. Taking possession, he tasted her. He couldn't get enough of her delectable mouth. He nibbled at her lips and left tiny kisses at the corners. His tongue returned to conquer hers in a struggle for dominance. He heard her utter a small moan and felt her surrender, her arms reaching up to circle his neck, pulling him closer and kissing him back with abandon.

  Running his hands slowly down her back, he reached her soft bottom, pulling her even closer. His erection swelled and hardened against her stomach. Lord, but she felt good. He knew he shouldn't be doing this, but he couldn't stop himself. Not when she was so warm and willing in his arms. Not when she was rubbing up against him so enticingly, her tongue dueling with his, her fragrance wafting around him like an aphrodisiac.

  Running his hands under her sweater, his fingers deftly unhooked her bra. Then, sliding his hands around front, he pulled up her sweater till her lush, ripe breasts rested in his palms. With a groan, he caressed them until his thumbs and forefingers found and held her hardened nipples, rolling them between his fingers. She moaned, her head falling back. Pulling back, he gazed at her breasts with blatant desire. Growling, his head dropped and he took a nipple between his teeth, lapping at it with his tongue. Gasping in surprise, she began to writhe against his mouth and hands.

  Altheia was so hot, she thought she would erupt in flames at any moment. His mouth was driving her mad with desire. She had to have him now. She wanted to touch him. Running her hands down his chest, she reached lower and brushed her fingers over his erection. Closing her fingers, she stroked him, making him lose contact with her breast as he gasped in response. He began to pulse and throb beneath her hand. Good heavens. He was huge. She had to feel him in her hands. Her fingers fumbled with his zipper, whimpers falling from her throat.

  Michael was raging with lust. Nothing would stop him now; he meant to have her, his hands dropping to help her with the damned zipper.

  A howl echoed through the night. Michael froze.

  With a groan, he released her and his hands halted her task. Gently, he forced her away from him. A violent tremor racked his body and he took a shuddering breath.

  Altheia couldn't accept
what was happening. It took her a minute to realize that he was pushing her away, stilling her hands. A whimper uncontrollably escaped her lips. Gaining control, she saw that he was trembling in front of her.

  "I'm sorry,” he mumbled. “I can't do this.” He turned, striding toward the van, the screen door swinging shut behind him. Then he was gone, dust swirling in his wake.

  In despair and frustrated desire, she silently began to cry. Then humiliation set in. She'd thrown herself at him like a whore; no wonder he'd been repulsed. She'd never be able to face him again.

  Closing and locking the door, she steeled herself to clean up and get ready for bed.

  THREE

  Altheia spent the day cleaning, washing the floor, cleaning windows, washing the curtains and re-hanging them. Actually, Jordan had left the place in decent shape. She just felt the need to keep busy. She didn't want to think about last night.

  At three o'clock she began to worry about her car. He was going to bring it back, wasn't he? She sure hoped he didn't forget she had no way into town.

  Jasmine was going crazy in the new place, so Altheia decided to give her a treat. Finding a piece of twine, she tied it to Jasmine's collar and they went for a walk in the yard. A half hour later she had to carry a reluctant Jasmine back into the house.

  Just as she stepped inside, the phone rang. Someone named Joe from the garage said her car was ready and they would return it about 5:30 p.m.

  Altheia waited nervously, not knowing what she was going to say to Michael. She was still embarrassed about her behavior last night. How could she have acted like that? She had never been that excited in her life—not even with her husband and she had loved him dearly when they were first married. But this man knew just the right buttons to push and she couldn't keep her hands off him. God, in another five minutes they surely would have been rutting on the floor like animals.

  She heard a car in the yard and went out on the porch. There were two vehicles in the yard, hers and a red tow truck. A tall Indian with long hair tied in a pony tail was getting out of her car.