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Ria picked herself off the floor and sat on the edge of the bed, thoroughly confused. Before she could force her aching head to focus and help her sort out what to do with this wolf, he’d returned.
“The phone is not working. I’ve texted Saber to tell him Mrs. Hunter wasn’t at home and must’ve hunkered down elsewhere. Hopefully, the text will get through. Do you know where she is?”
Ria stared and didn’t reply.
He halted, his scrutiny intense. That was when she realized she was wearing nothing but a long T-shirt. No underwear. No long, full skirt to hide her tail. His gaze swept her body, pausing where her tail protruded beneath the gray fabric. After a protracted moment, his eyes lifted. He did a visual sweep upward, dallying at her breasts before resting on her hair and finally settling on her ears.
Heat seared her cheeks, but she remained silent. He wasn’t trying to hurt her, and Saber was the leader of the Feline Council. Sending residents out to check on others sounded plausible. It was something Saber Mitchell would do. He’d organized a local to cut wood to feed her fire over the winter. It had been a small gesture and a welcome one, even though she’d told Saber not to repeat the exercise. She might be old, but she wasn’t helpless, and she’d cut her wood.
The light was better out here, or maybe it was dawn because she could see his face. He was big—tall—without being bulky and older than her, yet the wolf had muscles that made her a little breathless if she were honest. His brown hair was sticking up as if he’d run his fingers through it a dozen times.
“Are you hungry?”
Ria was glad of the subject change, but suspicion leaped to the fore. What if this was a ruse? What if he’d done his research and, given he was a shifter, knew about Saber? “Food?” she asked, not bothering to hide her distrust.
A frown formed on his brow, and his eyes rolled upward. His quick sniff of annoyance amused her, but she didn’t make the mistake of smiling. Now wasn’t the time to relax when she had no idea where she was or what he intended to do with her.
“I have soup,” he said. “I’ll heat it and make toast.” Without waiting for a reply, he stalked away.
She started to follow before deciding she’d prefer to don more garments. She fled to the bedroom where she’d woken and searched for her clothes. They were nowhere to be found, and stymied, she placed her hands on her hips. In the distance, the clunk of a pot sounded, so he was making food. Of course, she wouldn’t eat unless he did, but if this was a trick, he was a skilled operative. When she couldn’t find her apparel, she opened the drawers and the wardrobe. Ah! A pair of track pants. She took them from the drawer and pulled them on. They were too big, but she turned over the waistband and the legs before doing an experimental jump. Yes, they’d remain in place without a belt. In another drawer, she discovered an oversized black sweatshirt. She pulled that over her head, immediately feeling warmer and more in control. The scent coming from the clothes brought a jolt of happiness. They smelled like that man, but she didn’t dwell on this, not wanting to unpack what it might mean. The scientists were a tricky bunch and capable of surprising her.
Her house had moved.
The thought slid into her brain, and she snatched it tight. Yes, the entire building had lurched and sent her flying. She lifted her hand and prodded a tender spot. Where had the man found her? In her home? Even more importantly, she needed to ask questions.
She raised her chin and followed her nose. The man had his back to her when she entered the small kitchen, but he must’ve heard her arrive because he turned to face her, a wooden spoon in hand. His brows rose and one corner of his mouth lifted in a half grin. His intoxicating scent and apparent happiness had her almost returning the sentiment. She froze the twitch of her mouth before it widened to a smile. No, she shouldn’t encourage this man. She’d seen him in town and recognized the danger he posed to her, so she’d kept her distance and ignored him.
“Please,” he said, his gaze doing a quick up and down of her body. “Make free with my possessions.”
“Where am I?” she demanded, trying to ignore the sudden edginess assailing her. Perhaps the better question was when would the scientists or their guard dogs arrive to take her away?
6
Heignoredherquestionand poured soup into two bowls and popped bread into the toaster.
Ria watched for an instant. “Is the power on?”
“No, it goes out a lot in storms. I have a generator.”
Ah, she’d wondered about the constant drone. Right now, she was hungry. Her nostrils flared as she dragged the meaty goodness past her olfactory nerve. Her stomach growled, but wariness had her hanging back. If the food contained drugs, she’d never escape him.
“Eat,” he said in a firm voice. “Before the soup gets cold.” The toaster popped up, and he whisked the two pieces out and placed them on a plate. He carried it to the table and set it down before pulling out a chair. He sent her an expectant look. “Sit. What is your name, anyway?”
“Ria,” she said without hesitation. Not one scientist knew her by this name. They’d given her a number.
“I’m Marcus.”
She hesitated an instant longer.
“You have nothing to be frightened of with me. As soon as the phone is working, I’ll contact Saber. He’ll be worried because I promised to call him.”
She’d met Saber in the café in town. He’d offered help and sent meat now and then. He’d invited her on the runs the Feline Council organized, but she’d never gone, citing her age and tapping her walking stick to demonstrate her lack of agility. The truth—letting other shifters close invited curiosity and questions she didn’t want to answer. This small town, like many others, was rife with nosiness. For almost two years, she’d lived on the outskirts of Middlemarch and kept to herself. She went into town weekly for supplies and treated herself to a coffee and scone before she headed home.
“For goodness sake, woman,” Marcus said, a growl rippling through his words. “Sit and start eating.”
The toast popped up, and he went to retrieve it. When he returned, she was still hovering by the chair, and he sighed but said nothing else. He pulled out the second chair, dumped the toast on the plate with the other, and sat. He picked up a spoon and dipped it into his soup.
“I am starving,” he said. “I had soup earlier while you were still out, but I need to consume more calories during the cold weather to keep warm and alert.”
