He hadn’t planned to follow her to the lake.
Hell, he hadn’t planned to follow her at all.
But before he knew what he was doing, he’d left his tent in search of…something. He refused to put his unplanned detour into words, but he knew exactly what he was doing. Exactlywhomhe was looking for. And when he saw her striding briskly toward the fort, he followed.
At first, he told himself he was simply going to warn her that her silvery hair was like a flaming torch in the night. Anyone could take interest, including those with unsavory intentions. She should put on a hood, at least, to be less noticeable.
And then he followed her simply because he had to, his own intentions questionable.
Now, those intentions were put to the test. He didn’t know where to look.
A man only had so much control, and his was at its limits. So frayed, he could hear the taut fibers unraveling one by one.
He told himself he wouldn’t gaze upon her nakedness. His eyes weren’t going lower than her throat.
But he was lying to himself. The traitors aimed down of their own accord, as if pulled by invisible strings to her small, barely-there breasts.
He found them extraordinarily enchanting. Especially the tight pink buds that beaded with need. Or was it simply the cold?
He wanted to roll them between his fingers to see. To let her reaction tell him the truth.
His gaze traveled waywardly down her smooth, lean torso. A faint line bisected her middle, leading to a shallow navel, just as tiny as the rest of her.
His hands flexed involuntarily into fists at his sides, itching to span her waist, her hips. Cup the firm, high mounds of her buttocks. Tease the seam where her thighs met with his thumbs, to the petal-soft nether lips shielding her core.
Holy God!
She was bare and hairless all over. Nothing but smooth, translucent skin, shimmering like opals in the moonlight.
His mouth went dry as his breathing went ragged. All the blood in his body shot down to his groin so fast, he swayed slightly on unsteady feet.
“Is something amiss?” she asked solicitously. “You look unwell, my Wolfe.”
My Wolfe.
She needed to stop calling him that. It was…doingthingsto him.
It made some savage beast within shake its cage and roar with hunger. Possession. Obsession.
Mine!It claimed.
It wanted free of its restraints. It wantedher.
He took a step back, thankful that his feet still obeyed his conscience’s command.
“You should…clothe yourself,” he rumbled huskily, his voice reduced to ash, burned to a crisp by the flames of desire.
“I should…go.”
The blasted female took a step forward, keeping her hand on his chest, which he hadn’t thought to remove.
“You should stay, my Wolfe,” she stated definitively.
“I want to be with you.”
Wolfe sucked in another breath as his heart skipped a beat.
He searched her eyes for understanding. Did she know what she was saying? Did she mean what he hoped she meant? Yet, at the same time hoped she didn’t mean?