A SEAL in Wolf's Clothing

Page 11

He watched from a safe distance as Finn drove his Hummer to Meara’s cabin from an isolated turnout up the road. But Finn hadn’t been as clever as he thought he was. Bjornolf had located Finn’s vehicle once he realized Finn had to have gotten to Meara’s place by some form of transportation. No public transportation way out here.
Finn packed Meara’s bags into the Hummer and then hauled an ice chest out to the vehicle. Along with her rifle and a laptop, his duffel bag was the last to be packed into the vehicle. It all looked very domestic—except for her rifle. All they needed were a couple of kids and, if they weren’t werewolves, a family dog. Not that some of their kind didn’t have dogs or other pets, but most that he knew didn’t bother with them.
Bjornolf had planted a couple of tracking devices on both Meara’s and Finn’s cars, so if Finn didn’t search for any on his Hummer, Bjornolf could easily follow them. But he’d also surreptitiously left a couple in her living room and kitchen when she was preoccupied and before he knew they’d be leaving.
“Come on, Meara. Quit dawdling,” Finn said as he threw his duffel bag in the trunk and slammed the lid closed.
Bjornolf had to smile when he saw Meara scowling as she stalked out to the Hummer, backpack in hand. “Quit… ordering… me… around.” Every word had bite.
Why the hell hadn’t Bjornolf checked Hunter’s sister out before? Way before all this went down? Yet, she looked like the kind of woman who could really give a man a hard time.
He smiled wryly as the possibilities tempted him.
Yeah, he could live with that.
Chapter 6
“So where are we going?” Meara asked, as Finn drove south along the Oregon coast. She glanced back at the ice chest, the aroma of the freshly baked chicken making her stomach rumble, and she wished they’d had the chicken before they left her place. “Couldn’t we at least have eaten at the house first?”
“Later. Or you can fish out the chicken and eat while I’m driving.”
Hating that he was so in charge of their every move, she frowned at him. “When are we going to stop for the evening?”
He glanced at her. “Don’t tell me you’re going to ask that all night long.”
“Don’t tell me we’re going to drive all night long.”
He concentrated on the road again. “We’ll drive until I say we stop.”
She ground her teeth. Hell, he was ten times more controlling than Hunter.
“Great. Then I’m not waiting to eat.” She reached back, pulled out napkins and a container of wet wipes, and opened the ice chest, digging around until she snagged a plastic bag filled with chicken thighs. “Want one?”
“Later. Thanks.”
With napkins on her lap, she began eating a piece of chicken. “I can drive later so you can eat then,” she said between bites.
He didn’t say anything, but about twenty minutes down the road, he pulled into a car dealership.
She cleaned her hands with a wet wipe, stared at the new and used car lot, and said, “What are we…”
He put his finger to her lips to silence her, wrapped his hand around her head, and pulled her close to whisper in her ear. “We need to inspect our stuff for anything that might have tracking devices or bugs.” He glanced at her clothes and then spoke in a hushed voice next to her ear again. “Either you can get a whole new set of duds and change, and I can look over what you’ve been wearing, or I can search them while you’re still in them.” His lips lifted in a small smile.
He was enjoying this espionage crap a little too much.
“I like what I’m wearing,” she whispered back.
“Fine. I’ll check you over,” he said quietly.
She raised her brows at that. “Do you tell all the women you’re protecting that you need to frisk them for electronic bugs?” she whispered. The feeling of his lips next to her ear and his hot, caressing breath made her burn up, and she imagined that her whispered breath on his ear was doing the same number on him.
“This is my first time.”
“I bet.” Her gaze swept over him. She asked in a hushed voice, “What about you? What if you have something hidden in your clothes?”
His eyes sparkled with a hint of mischievousness. “I do have something hidden in my clothes—although it won’t remain hidden for long if we don’t get this over with quickly. As far as bugs go, I’ve already swept my things. But if you want to give me a personal sweep of your own, just to be certain, I’m all yours.”
Her face flushed over the sexual innuendo. “Thanks, but I’ll pass.”
He tilted his head forward in agreement. “Hope you’re not too ticklish.” He gave her another of the boyish grins that she was beginning to recognize as his trademark. “I love what you do to me,” he said in a sexy, husky way that she was sure wasn’t all put on as he pulled something out of his pocket. Then he began to move the device down her thighs and her calves, and over her tennis shoes.
His gaze shifted to hers. “Spread your legs for me, Meara,” he said again in a lusty voice, somewhat hushed, but loud enough that if a lupus garou was listening in, he’d get an earful. And the lusty voice wasn’t in the least bit faked.
She raised her brows.
“It’s easier if you willingly open yourself up for me,” he said when she didn’t promptly comply.
She hoped she wasn’t wearing a bug, but for all the humiliation she was going through, she hoped he would find one and she wouldn’t have to clobber him.
She parted her legs for him, gave him a steely glower, and said in a sultry, sensuous way, “Is that wide enough for you?”
“Hmm, Meara, you sweet thing.”
He ran the device between her legs, nearly touching her denim-covered crotch, and she swore he was going to give her an orgasm just from the way he was sliding the device between her legs and breathing so close to her. His heartbeat had kicked up a couple of notches to match hers, and she knew her damned pheromones were spreading the word that she had the hots for him. They were making her feel as though she was about to be singed by the sun.
He positioned his free hand on the back of her head so he’d look like he was truly her lover if anyone happened to drive by and see, yet it was more to keep her in line if she balked and tried to slip out of his grasp. He brushed the detector over her crotch, and she wondered if he had to get it that close to detect a bug. Surely he didn’t need to. Besides, how could anyone have stuck one in her clothes down there that she wouldn’t have noticed?
She gave him an annoyed look, and he caught her expression and gave her a silkily satisfied smile.
He swept the device over her breasts next, grazing her nipples as it passed over them, and they tingled in traitorous response. She glanced at his face. His eyes darkened to midnight as he stared at her nipples, and she didn’t think his actions or reactions had anything to do with finding a bug.
“Hot, huh?” she murmured, attempting to get him to focus on his mission before she was so hot and wet and aching that she’d force him to do something about it.
His lusty gaze quickly shifted to hers as if she’d awakened him from his hazy trance. He gave her a wicked half smile and then continued the sweep, maneuvering the detector over her stomach, under her arms, and around her neck and head.
“Turn around,” he said, demanding, but his voice was already drenched with need.
“In the vehicle?” She couldn’t help the squeak in her voice.
“You can do it,” he whispered, his lips brushing her ear.
Now she knew he didn’t need to get that close.
In the confined space, she maneuvered around until she was on her knees.
“Hmm, Meara honey, bend over,” he prompted, sounding horny as hell, and she was certain it wasn’t an act as she bit back a hasty retort.
He slipped the device around the outside of her legs, and she shivered to think where it was going next. Then he slid it in between her legs, and if she wasn’t so damned turned on and wanting him to rub her crotch until she came, she’d wonder why he thought she could have a listening device there! Like with her breasts, she felt he was searching the area way too methodically and had gotten lost in his thoughts or something. She cleared her throat, and he finally brushed the device over her back pockets in a sensuous slide, again concentrating a little too long on that part of her anatomy for her liking.
He suddenly stopped at her left back pocket and rested the device there. She barely breathed. He maneuvered around so he could slide his hand inside, his fingers groping her ass as if he thought his hand could do a better job in the search. She was about to make a remark to that effect when he pulled his hand out.
He patted her on the bottom with way more than an innocent touch. “Ah, Meara,” he said, his voice as deep and rough as if he’d just climaxed. “We’ve got to get a room.”
“Now you say so,” she said, trying to sound as breathless and sexy as him, which wasn’t hard to do with her hormones raging out of control.
She turned around and saw him holding up the small listening device between his fingers. Her heart did a triple somersault. How and when did it get there? And who had put it there and had been listening to everything they’d said? Hell, what had she said?
For a second, she had the idiotic notion that Finn had planted it there so she wouldn’t think him a cad for feeling her up in the name of security. But despite her fleeting hope that it could be something so benign, she knew that wouldn’t be the case.
He set the bug carefully on the console between them, then leaned over the seat to sweep the ice chest and other bags.
He shook his head at her when she watched to see if he’d found any others. The notion that someone had been listening to them—well, hell, had stuck a bug inside the back pocket of her jeans—really irritated the hell out of her. And then the notion struck her—had it been done while she was wearing the jeans or before that? And if it was before that, how would the culprit have known she was going to wear these particular jeans? Her skin chilled at that thought.