Once on the road, the pavement was easier to traverse, though the rain slammed relentlessly against it, splashing up their legs as it did. But soon they were back at Squires, collapsing through the front door.
“Christ!” Wolfie shook himself like a dog, droplets spraying everywhere. Pippa giggled, but she was shivering so much that the noise was oddly strangled. Wolfie sprang to action, disappearing briefly into the living room and re-emerging with a throw.
“Here.” Wolfie wrapped the blanket around her, rubbing her arms. Pippa let him, stunned by his tenderness. His face was inches from hers, intent with the need to make sure she warmed up. Pippa’s gaze was inexorably drawn to his full lips and sharp white teeth. A kernel of electricity began to pulse within her. “Are you feeling any warmer now?”
“Yes,” Pippa croaked, her mouth dry. Wolfie glanced up at her and his face creased with concern.
“You’re very pale,” he murmured.
Pippa couldn’t reply. Her body trembled, but it wasn’t the cold. It was the magnitude of everything falling into place, of Wolfie being so close, holding her tight. Did he not see how she was coming apart before him? Then Pippa frowned. She wasn’t the only one who was soaked to the skin. Wolfie’s lips were almost blue.
“You’re cold.” She touched his slippery arm.
“I’ll be fine. Show me your ankle,” he ordered gruffly. The nearest place to sit was the stairs and, with Wolfie’s help, Pippa manoeuvred herself in an ungainly fashion down on to one of the lower steps, stretching out her injured leg. His face set with concentration, Wolfie knelt before her and cupped her calf with one hand, the other gently pushing back the hem of her sodden leggings to prod at the sightly puffy skin. Pippa reeled. Because the moment Wolfie’s fingers brushed her bare leg, she wanted him with a need so strong it made her dizzy. The desire was a force that threatened to take her apart, sinew by sinew, bone by bone. The only thing that could bring her back together was his touch. Wolfie grinned shyly. “Is this really the second time I’m performing emergency medical care on you, Pippa Munro?”
He was clearly expecting her to laugh, but that was the last thing Pippa wanted to do. When her face stayed serious, his stilled. “What is it?”
Pippa’s gaze drilled into his with urgent command. “Kiss me.”
Stunned, Wolfie’s eyes dropped to her lips. “You want me to kiss you?”
Pippa nodded slowly. “I do.”
Wolfie reverently lowered her foot, and for a devastating moment, Pippa thought he was going to walk away. But then he leaned over her, a hand either side of her hips on the step and brought his face close to hers. “Thank fucking God,” he murmured.
With a ferocity she hadn’t known she was capable of until that moment, Pippa grabbed his face and pulled his mouth to hers. Wolfie met her lips with a kiss of equal fervour. He tasted like rain, his large hands raking through her hair to gently tug it away from her face. Pippa didn’t want gentle however; this was not the time for restraint. Pippa wanted him to unleash that force she knew lurked beneath the proper demeanour. No. More than wanted; she needed. She burned for it.
“Don’t hold back,” she panted against his mouth. She knew if he didn’t ravage her with every ounce of the power he had within, she would surely combust out of sheer frustration.
“You sure?” His lips brushed against hers.
“I’m sure.” Pippa’s tongue snaked its way across his Adam’s apple, and he gulped. He pushed himself between her knees, hands sliding to her rear so he could pull her against the firmness of his body. Pippa moaned. She wanted him so badly, she didn’t care that her wet hair was plastered to her skull, or that she was coated with dark mud. Pippa didn’t even care that her ankle hurt like blazes; all she cared about was Wolfie and what his mouth was doing to her, what it could do to her.
She trailed a hand down Wolfie’s chest, to the hem of his shirt. He batted her hand out of the way and pulled his top off. Fat drops of rainwater trickled over his bare chest and Pippa leaned in, doing what she had been dreaming of since she’d seen him in his towel: she reached out her tongue and licked his wet skin. Wolfie shivered. His hands went to her hair again and dragged her mouth back to his. His kisses hard, he pushed Pippa back against the stairs, his full, delicious weight upon her.
Impatiently, Pippa slid her hand down to the fly of his trousers and her mouth went instantly dry at the size of what waited for her there. Wolfie glanced down at what she was doing.
“Are you sure about this?”
Pippa tugged at his belt. The prong slipped from its notch. “Does it seem like I’m not sure?”
His answering grin was wicked.
* * *
Hours later, when they’d finally made it off the stairs and up to Wolfie’s room, they lay in his bed, tangled in sheets as the rain still hammered down outside. As she lay on her back, trying to catch her breath, Pippa felt totally at peace. Making love to Wolfie had been unlike anything she’d ever experienced. True, her frame of reference was incredibly limited, but that hadn’t mattered. As a lover, Wolfie was all at once tender and ravenous, exhausting her body whilst blowing her mind. And yet, it all felt so right. Natural.
When her heart rate had returned to a normal pace, Pippa rolled onto her side to face him. Wolfie’s long fingers reached for her hair, smoothing it back off her face. She ran her hands over his broad chest and the tattoo that was emblazoned across his pectorals. Wolfie followed her gaze down to the dark script that read ‘Fortune Favours the Brave.’
“The motto of my regiment.” Wolfie pre-empted Pippa’s question as her fingers brushed the two red poppies entwined amongst the text.
She looked closer. “What are those for?”
“Two of my men that never came back,” he replied hoarsely.
“God, I’m so sorry.” Pippa’s hand stilled. She couldn’t imagine what that must have been like. “Did you injure your chin out there?” She brushed her lips along his scar’s silvery path.
“That?” Wolfie rolled his eyes. “No. Although it’s kind of connected to me being in the army.”
