Soft thuds down wooden steps and then she stepped into view. He licked his chops. May the goddess bless his accursed soul. Was this truly the Lady Mairi? If so, the vision Mother Sinclair had shown him in the reflecting pool had not done her justice.
“You’re awake.” The smiling woman slowly knelt and extended her knuckles. “Hi there. I’m Mairi and I’m a friend. Have a sniff so you’ll know I won’t hurt you.”
Have a sniff? Ronan swallowed hard and licked his chops again. By all the demons of hell . . . was she mad?Did she not fear the damage a wild wolf might do her? He shifted to a sitting position and flicked an ear. Perhaps if he behaved more like the dogs that cleaned up the scraps in great hall, the Lady Mairi would remain as calm as she was now.
“Come on. It’s all right. I promise you’re safe here.” She patiently kept her hand held out and waited. Her gold-green eyes were filled with such compassion, his heart double-skipped a beat. No fear.She cared not that he was a wolf, but what the hell would she do when she discovered he was also a man?
“I know you might still be feeling a little sore.” She settled into a cross-legged position on the floor just a few feet from his pallet. “I am really sorry I hit you. The roads were slick and I just didn’t see you in time.”
She struck him? When?
She leaned forward and whispered, “Just between you and me, I’ve never actually attempted to heal an animal before. I wasn’t sure the energy would work.”
Healed him? She had not healed him. The curse never allowed him to remain weak or injured for long. It was about the only benefit to the damnation of immortality. He eyed her long slender fingers a few feet from his nose. So soft. So delicate.His gaze shifted to her face. Conviction and certainty flickered in her eyes. The woman truly believed she had healed him.
A soothing touch.An excited shiver rippled through him. Just as the prophecy had said. He slowly stood, eased to the edge of the pallet then lowered himself to his haunches again, not daring to approach her too quickly. The lass might show no fear now, but once she realized what he truly was . . .
“You’re a pretty boy. What in the world am I going to do with you?” Her inviting smile lit up her entire face. Her wet hair, dark and shimmering with highlights of red and gold, escaped the strange-looking comb holding it back and letting it cascade across her bare shoulders. If the woman leaned forward but a few more inches, she’d gift him with an even better view down the plunging neckline of the strange white shift clinging to her fine shapely breasts. He slurped his long tongue from one side of his mouth to the other. Lore, what he wouldn’t give for just a wee taste.
“Are you hungry?” She leaned forward.
Aye. Hungry he was all right. But it would take a great deal more than food to sate his aching emptiness begging to be filled.
Mairi rolled to all fours and inched a bit closer. “Can I pet you now? Can we be friends?”
Lore a’mighty. Between the woman’s scent and her mouthwatering curves, she would surely be the death of him. He slowly rose and cautiously approached her. He best enjoy her presence whilst he could. Once she realized what he was, she would fear being in the same room with him.
Her smile widened as she touched her knuckles to his nose. “There. See? Do I smell okay? Worthy of your trust?”
Did she smell okay? By the very gods themselves, the scent of her was permanently burned into his senses. If struck blind, he would still be able to find her no matter where she was. He licked her knuckles. If he’d been in human form, he would have licked the rest of her. He nudged his nose into her palm, then pushed his head up into her hand.
An ancient connection surged through him, electrified his core. She was the one. He knew it more surely than he had ever known anything in his life. He leaned his weight into her, praying she would accept him for the hellish mix of beast and man that he was.
Mairi’s arms looped around him and she pulled him to her chest. “You felt it too, didn’t you?” she whispered into his fur.
Aye, m’dear sweet lass. I felt it.And he thanked the gods she felt it too. He swiped his tongue across the tempting bit of her throat revealed by her daring neckline. Pure, unadulterated sweetness.He huffed out a groaning sigh. At times being the wolf was not so bad at all.
Mairi slowly released him, easing away to stand and smile down at him.
Damn, he missed her warmth already.A shiver stole over him, starting with a tingle at the end of his nose and rippling across him in waves down to the tip of his tail. He shook himself against the unpleasant feeling. He wanted her closeness back—soon.
Starting back up the steps, she paused and motioned for him to follow. “Come on, boy. Let’s go to the kitchen for a bowl of water.”
Ronan couldn’t help but lick his chops at the tempting length of her bare legs revealed by the odd short tunic she wore. Lore a’mighty.A longing whine escaped him.
She crouched on the top steps and held out her hand. “It’s okay. Come on.”
May the gods have mercy on his accursed soul.The woman could tempt a starving man from a feast with that honeyed voice. He cautiously padded up the steps behind her, doing his best to seem as docile as a spoiled hound, still unable to believe she did not fear a wolf.
She led the way into a small box of a room, bright and cold with shining surfaces that looked to be made of stone and metal. He glanced around. What an odd place.If this was the kitchen, where were the hearths? Where were the herbs and meats that always hung from hooks along the rafters?
Food.He licked the end of his nose and sniffed again. Aye. Food was here.The refreshing tang of herbs. A sharp acidic cheese. His stomach rumbled. He wouldn’t mind a bit of food. He reared up on his hind legs and plopped his front paws on the edge of an oblong white table. Nothing but a bowl filled with fruit that looked strange. He pawed the bowl closer, snuffling the strange waxy apples that had no smell at all. What the devil?
The soft weight of her hand on his head took his attention away from the obviously inedible fruit. Ever so gently, she scolded him. “Down, please. No doggie paws on the table.” She softened the scolding by hugging him close as she slowly lowered his front feet back down to the floor. “And Eliza is quite fond of her hideous wax fruit that should’ve been tossed out at least five years ago. Trust me. You really don’t want it.”
Wax fruit? What good is fruit that can’t be eaten?He leaned into her embrace, inhaling her beguiling scent, the fake fruit immediately forgotten.
“Aww, you’re such a sweetie,” she said, working her fingers behind one of his ears and setting off a sensation so pleasurable, he had no choice but to melt into her touch and rabbit-kick a back leg. Damnation.The woman’s touch was delicious torture. What sensations could they both enjoy once he returned to the form of a man?
