Page 33 of The Enforcers: KANE

Kane gave her a sideways look, letting a smile curve the corner of his mouth. “You’ll see.” He felt better now that they were away from the pack. He could breathe again.

She persisted, reaching for the cooler. “Beer? Martinis?” Kane raised it out of her reach. “No fair,” she said, jumping. “You’re too tall.”

“Patience is a virtue,” he said wickedly.

“That’s a lie perpetrated by people who don’t want to tell you things,” Rachelle said. She started walking up the trail. “I bet it’s a still-beating heart from one of your evil werewolf rituals.”

“You guessed it,” he said. “And once you’re inducted in the secret ritual, you become one with the werewolves. You can never escape.”

“I can think of worse fates than being part of your pack,” she said.

“Yeah, they’re fucking awesome,” he said grumpily. They actually were, when they weren’t annoying him. Which they did most of the time.

She gave him an enigmatic look, but went quiet. After a minute he reached for her hand. He was kind of getting used to this whole hand-holding thing, and now his hand felt empty if he was walking beside her and hers wasn’t in it.

This was getting dangerous.

It was about a fifteen-minute walk up to the waterfall. The trail was steep and rocky, and Rachelle was panting by the time they got to the top. “This better be worth it, Hunter,” she said.

He just grinned at her. He hoped she thought it was.

They scrambled up one more rocky outcropping, and they could hear the sound of rushing water. They rounded a bend and there was a pool maybe thirty feet across, with the waterfall at the far end, cascading down twenty feet into the churning water below.

The sun was almost down, its final rays lighting up the entire waterfall with pink and gold. Rachelle stopped dead, her hand over her mouth. “Oh, Kane,” she said. “It’s beautiful.”

He couldn’t help himself. He dropped the cooler and the blanket and put his arms around her, holding her from behind and pulling her close to him.

“Worth it?” he asked, his mouth close to her ear.

“Oh my gosh, more than worth it.” She stared, entranced, at the play of color on the water.

He ignored the waterfall; all he could see and feel was her. The scent of her hair, how soft her skin was. He wanted to bite her neck just under her ear, taste every inch of her. Her breasts were right there above his clasped arms, warm and soft, and it was all he could do not to cup them in his hands and kiss the nipples till they got hard.

Damn, he was getting another boner.

Kane let go of Rachelle and got the blanket and the basket. He spread the blanket out on the ground and sprawled on it, leaning on one elbow and trying not to think about tearing Rachelle’s clothes off and burying himself between her thighs.

He shoved the cooler toward her. “Ready for your evil werewolf ritual?” he asked.

“Bring it on, baby,” she said. “Feed me the hearts of your enemies.”

She grabbed the cooler and opened it.

Inside, packed in ice, were two cartons of ice cream. On top was a note in Kane’s scrawling handwriting:

Rachelle’s ice cream. Don’t even think about it. Kane will personally roast your balls over the grill with you attached to them. And feed them to wild animals while you watch.

Hell. He’d forgotten about the note.

Rachelle burst out laughing. “Nice,” she said. “Very…evil werewolf.”

“You can’t trust those fuckers,” Kane said. “They’ll eat anything that isn’t nailed down. And drink your beer while you’re not watching.”

Rachelle put the note aside and pulled out the cartons. Strawberry Cheesecake and Rocky Road. Her favorites. At least, he hoped they still were.

“You remembered!” She swallowed hard. Was she tearing up?

“I remember everything, Raven,” he said.