Wolf of her Own_Salvation Series Page 6

  But first she needed to get changed. What she really wanted was a long soak in her tub, but this would have to do. There was no mirror in her bedroom, only the bathroom, but she didn’t bother going back into the other room to check her appearance. It was as good as it would get.

  She walked lightly down the hallway and paused at the end. Mikhail was standing in front of her window seat. It was her favorite spot in the entire place. She’d always wanted one, and when she’d expressed an interest, her sons had made sure it was added to the plan for her house. She loved the private, cozy space, and she loved her sons for giving her this sanctuary.

  She was suddenly nervous. What was she going to say to Mikhail? How was she going to explain what had happened?

  He slowly pivoted until he was facing her. She’d known he was aware of her presence. He was too much a wolf not to have sensed her. He was a big, powerful man, but he looked at home in her small space. The sight of him made her breath catch in her throat. “Coffee?” Offering him coffee helped her feel more grounded, more normal.

  “It should be done by now. I’ll get it.” He walked by her and brushed his hand over her arm when he passed.

  Left with nothing to do, Elise watched as he filled two mugs he’d found in her cupboards. He looked entirely at home in her kitchen. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Her sons and other pack members visited all the time, but none of them made use of her kitchen so freely like they did in each other’s houses.

  Mikhail set both mugs on the peninsula that separated her table from the kitchen. “Sit,” he told her. She suddenly felt more like the guest than the owner of the house, and she didn’t like it.

  “Why don’t you sit?” She pointed at one of the stools.

  His eyes twinkled and one corner of his mouth kicked up. “Don’t mind if I do.” His dark brown hair glinted with reddish highlights. It was only the gray at his temples that hinted at his age. The man was extremely fit and too good-looking for her peace of mind.

  He made her feel like a giddy schoolgirl. She was hyperaware of his presence in the room. Her breasts swelled beneath her sweater, and her jeans seemed suddenly confining.

  This was not the time for her to get aroused. “Pie?” she asked.

  “I’d love it.” The husky note in his voice shook her to the core. She knew he wanted a whole lot more than just pie.

  “Apple or lemon meringue?”

  His eyes widened. “You made lemon meringue?”

  She nodded and went to the refrigerator to retrieve the pie. “I had lemons and apples, so I made both.”

  “This is real lemon pie? Not from a box?”

  She set the pie on the counter and took down two plates from the cupboard, closing the door sharply. “Of course it’s not from a box. What kind of a wolf do you think I am?” With their enhanced senses, synthetic smells and chemicals bothered them. It was the same with food. Heavily processed food just tasted nasty.

  She got a knife and two forks from the drawer, glad to be doing something so she didn’t have to look at Mikhail. “How big a piece do you want?”

  “As much as I can get.”

  Elise stilled with the knife poised over the pie. She had a feeling he was talking about a lot more than just the lemon pie. She steadied herself and sliced through the meringue and lemon to the crust below. She started to make a second cut, but Mikhail cleared his throat. She moved the knife over slightly. He cleared his throat again.

  Exasperated, and more amused than she should be, Elise looked at him. Big mistake. He looked entirely too good sitting on the other side of her kitchen counter. She could get used to seeing him there.

  She loved to cook but didn’t do it as much as she’d like. They ate most of their meals in groups, and it was only when she invited pack members to her house that she really got to cook up a feast. And even then, they usually brought side dishes and dessert with them.

  But Mikhail was waiting to try her pie, his excitement was palpable. “Should I just hand you the pie and a fork?” she teased.

  He shook his head. “That would be rude. But I could go for half.”

  “Half?” She laughed. When he nodded, she cut the lemon pie in half and shoveled it onto his plate. Some of it hung over the edge. “I think I should have used a bigger plate.”

  Mikhail laughed and pulled the plate over in front of him. “It’s not going to last long enough to worry about.”

  Deciding she wanted a slice of the lemon pie, too, she cut herself a large piece, about half of what was left. Then she went around the counter and sat on the stool next to Mikhail. The two of them sat side by side and ate. It hadn’t had time to set properly and was a little runny, but it was tart and delicious.

  The silence was comfortable. Elise enjoyed watching Mikhail eat something she’d made. Deep rumbles of pleasure rose from his chest. He finished every last crumb and scraped the plate clean.

  “That was the most delicious pie I’ve ever eaten. Thank you.”

  Elise’s cheeks heated. “I’m glad you liked it.”

  “I hope I get asked back for more.” He pushed the empty plate aside. “We’ve had pie and we have our coffee. Now it’s time to talk.”

  Chapter Seven

  Elise made the best lemon pie Mikhail had ever tasted. It was the perfect combination of sweet and tart. Just like Elise.

  He’d given her time to settle after the emotional upheaval she’d gone through, but the time had come to talk about what had happened. “You want more coffee?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. His mug was empty, and he sure as hell wanted more.

  He took his empty plate into the kitchen and put it in the sink. Then he snagged the coffeepot and filled his mug and topped off Elise’s. She was fidgeting with her fork and then finally set it down. “Let’s go into the living room.”

  He didn’t care where they sat as long as they talked. If sitting on the sofa made her feel better, that was fine by him. Hell, he’d sit in a damn snowbank if it would help her relax. She was strung tight enough to snap with just one wrong word.

  He followed her over to the seating area and put his mug on the coffee table. It was big and scarred from use. Rustic. He was sure it was one of Cole’s pieces. The big werewolf was one hell of a furniture maker.

  While Elise settled in on one end of the sofa, Mikhail went and crouched in front of the woodstove and added another chunk of wood to the small blaze. Sparks flew and then settled. Wood crackled and the fire rose higher. “Hope you don’t mind.” He shut the door of the stove, stood, and wiped his hands on his jeans.

  “Not at all. It’s nice on a chilly winter day.”

  Mikhail wanted to sit next to her but figured it was smarter to give her some space, so he sat in a comfortable chair right across from her.

  She had her hands wrapped around her mug in a death grip. Mikhail hoped he was doing the right thing. In his experience, it was better to clean a wound rather than let it fester. He figured the same applied for emotional wounds.

  “What happened earlier today? At lunch?” He leaned forward, lifted his mug off the table, and took a sip. Better to have something in his hands, otherwise he might not be able to refrain from reaching for Elise.

  “I’m not entirely sure.” She shifted position on the sofa, and her gaze didn’t quite meet his.

  “Look at me, Elise.” He waited until she raised her head. “Whatever it is, it’s okay.” He wanted to reassure her of that before they went any further. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You did scare me, though. The others know something is wrong. They just don’t know what it is. They’re worried about you.”

  She bit her bottom lip and carefully set her mug on the table. “I’m sorry about that.”

  Frustration ate at Mikhail, but he shoved it down. Getting Elise to open up wasn’t going to be a quick or easy process, but she was worth whatever effort it took. “I don’t want you to be sorry. I want you to tell me what happened, because you shut down, Elise. Was it because of what happ
ened between us this morning?”

  …

  A part of Elise wished she could go back in time and decide not to go out onto her deck this morning. If she’d stayed in bed, none of this would have happened.

  But then she’d never have known the touch of Mikhail’s hands on her body or know how his lips felt pressed against hers.

  She sighed and tried to find the words to explain. “I was afraid of my reaction to you.”

  He nodded as though he’d already suspected as much. “What are you afraid of?” He moved to the edge of his chair and leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs. The tips of his hair brushed his shoulders.

  What was she afraid of? “Me. You. Us.” She rubbed her fingers over her forehead. She still had a low-grade headache from all the crying. It had drained her physically as well as emotionally.

  “You’re afraid of how I make you feel?”

  She nodded. “Yes.” It was tough to admit. She hated feeling vulnerable. She knew she’d erected walls around herself. She knew it but didn’t know how to get rid of them.

  The nearest she had to a friend was Corrine Blanchard, Cole’s mother. And that was because they’d grown up together and lived in the same pack since they were born. But even with Corrine, there was a distance.

  “How do I make you feel?” His question was intimate, his voice low and husky.

  Elise shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. “Out of control.” She valued control. It was what had allowed her to survive her mating.

  “Is that so bad?” The sadness in his voice tore at her, but she couldn’t stop the spurt of resentment that raced through her.

  “Yes, it is. What happens if my sons find out we’re involved?”

  “Are we involved?”

  “Will you stop answering everything I say with a question?”

  Mikhail raked his fingers through his hair. Tension permeated the air. “How else am I supposed to understand if I don’t ask questions?” He paused and gave a sad chuckle. “And that was another question. I’m sorry, Elise, but I think I deserve to know why it bothers you so much if your sons find out I’m interested in you.”

  It seemed obvious to her. “Because it might cause upset in the pack.”

  “You mean your grown sons might have to face the fact their mother is a beautiful, vibrant, and sexual woman.” Mikhail pushed out of his seat and came to kneel on the floor in front of her. He rested his hands on either side of her. The heat from his big body surrounded her. She felt both safe and threatened.

  “Yes. No. I don’t know.” She buried her face in her hands. “I’ve never been a sexual woman before.” Brutal honesty seemed to be her only option. “I don’t know how I feel.”

  …

  It was a shock to Mikhail to truly understand just how deep Elise’s fears and her pain went. Her mate had managed to completely smother her sensual nature, which was a natural part of being a wolf.

  He took a deep breath, then another. The urge to shift was overwhelming. He wanted to howl at the unfairness and shred the man who had systematically tried to destroy her.

  “You don’t have to figure it all out at once,” he assured her. “We have all the time in the world.”

  “Do we?”

  “Yes, we do.” He buried his face in her lap and rubbed his head against her stomach, wanting to bring her comfort without having her feel threatened by him. That didn’t leave him with many options.

  “I never want you to feel like you have to withdraw like that again, to protect yourself against me. You might as well grab a knife and gut me.” He knew he was being graphic, but he meant every word.

  The lightest touch against his hair made him freeze in place, even as he quivered in anticipation. “Don’t be afraid,” he told her. “Whatever you want. You’re in charge.” It went against everything in him as an alpha male wolf to let anyone else take charge, but he knew it was necessary. At least until Elise became more sure of herself and of them.

  Her fingers sifted through his hair, and he groaned and then gave a low growl of pleasure. “Keep that up and you’ll never get rid of me,” he warned her.

  He glanced up in time to catch her fleeting smile. “Your touch feels so good, Elise.”

  “I like touching you.” He could hear the wonder in her voice.

  “Baby, you can touch me as much as you want, whenever you want.” As pleasurable as it was to have her stroking and petting him, their conversation wasn’t done. He sat back on his knees. Her hands slid away and she folded them in her lap.

  “We don’t have to tell Jacque, Louis, or anyone else that we’re spending time together if it makes you uncomfortable.” Yes, it stung his pride that she was so opposed to anyone knowing about them, but he’d get over it. If she needed their relationship to be a secret for now, he’d live with it.

  “It’s just—” Elise shrugged and twisted her fingers together. “I don’t know if I can be in a relationship, Mikhail. I’m not sure I can give you what you want or need.”

  “You let me worry about me,” he told her. “Are you so sure things won’t work out between us?” Elise took a deep breath, and he tried not to notice how the sweater she wore clung to her breasts. Tried and failed. His cock sprang to attention, and he shifted his position slightly to help ease the ache.

  “I don’t know what I want. One minute, I want to reach out and take everything you’re offering. The next, I want to run away and hide.”

  He respected her brutal honesty. She might be afraid, but there was still a part of her that wanted to be wild and free. He could sense it. See it.

  “Why don’t we start somewhere in the middle?” He took her hands in his, brought them to his lips, and kissed her knuckles one at a time. “We can have coffee, maybe dinner, watch a movie, or go for a run.” The only way to push past Elise’s fears was for them to spend time together.

  He knew she had to test him, to make sure he wasn’t like her ex. As much as he hated being compared to the bastard, it was necessary for Elise to be able to take the next step forward.

  “In the meantime, why don’t you touch me again?” He pressed her hands against his chest. He wished he wasn’t wearing a shirt, but her hands still felt good against him.

  …

  Elise had never met a man like Mikhail. His patience seemed limitless. Pierre would never have had such patience with her. Mikhail was aroused—there was no missing the bulge in the front of his jeans—but he didn’t seem to be in any hurry to slake his lust.

  And she wasn’t being fair to him. She was comparing him to her former mate, and they were nothing alike. She knew not all men were like Pierre. She’d raised two sons that were nothing like their father, yet she’d expected them to become upset at the idea of her and Mikhail spending time together. She wasn’t being fair to any of the men in her life.

  “I’m sorry.” It was important for Mikhail to understand she didn’t mean to hurt him.

  “It’s okay,” he assured her. “I’m sure we’ll hit a few bumps in the road along the way. What matters is that you talk to me, Elise.”

  “I don’t know if I can.”

  Mikhail covered her hands with his, pressing them more firmly against his chest. She felt his heartbeat against her palm. “I don’t need all the details. But I do need to know if I say or do anything that makes you uncomfortable.” He looked her square in the eyes. “Can you do that for me?”

  Elise nodded. “Yes.” She slid her hands out from under his and eased them up to his shoulders. “When you spoke to me at lunchtime, I didn’t know what to say or do. I’ve never had a man look at me the way you do.”

  …

  Mikhail breathed more deeply now, his chest rising and falling slowly. “Okay, I can understand that. The best way to deal with that is for you to get more comfortable with me. You’re a very sensual woman, whether you realize it or not”

  “I really don’t know how to respond to that.”

  “You don’t need to. It was a
n observation. I like watching you.”

  “I know. That’s what caused the problem at lunchtime.” The reminder brought them both back to reality, and she pulled away.

  Mikhail pushed to his feet and sat on the sofa next to her. “I’ll try to control myself in public. How about that?”

  She rubbed her hand over the sofa, roughing and then smoothing the fabric. “That’s not fair to you.”

  “Okay, then, how about I control myself in public until you’re more used to me, more able to handle me.”

  She snorted. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to handle you.”

  Her teasing delighted him. “What can I say? I’m more than a handful.” The sexual innuendo wasn’t lost on Elise. Her cheeks turned the most delicate shade of pink, and he could see a teasing glint in her eyes.

  “I wouldn’t know anything about that.”

  He sat back against the sofa and spread his arms wide across the back. “Want to find out?”

  Mikhail held his breath, wondering if he was pushing her too hard, too fast. He thought she might be a lot more ready than she thought she was. Of course, that could be pure wishful thinking on his part.

  “No pressure,” he assured her. “What do you want to do?”

  Elise had never had the opportunity to discover herself as a woman. He had a feeling that once she’d embraced the sensual, sexual side of her personality, he was the one who was going to have his hands full.

  He couldn’t wait to face the challenge.

  “I can touch you. You can touch me. Whatever you want. And it only goes as far as you’re comfortable. It’s all up to you, baby.”

  Elise came up on the sofa beside him. His heart pounded in his ears, and he locked his hands around the top of the sofa to keep from reaching for her.

  She studied him with her direct golden gaze so reminiscent of her older son’s. “You really mean that, don’t you?”

  “I do.” Even if it kills me. He hadn’t felt this out of control since he was a young man.