A SEAL in Wolf's Clothing

Page 41

Then again, that might have had something to do with watching Finn standing on the deck with Meara as he slipped his hands up her shirt and began to caress her breasts, speaking low in her ear, his body pressed provocatively against her backside, and undoubtedly trying to win her favor.
Observing them through the screen of pine trees, Bjornolf frowned. Meara was softening under Finn’s touch, but when he said something more to her, she balked. Bjornolf smiled cynically. She wouldn’t be won over easily. Finn wasn’t as charming a talker as he thought he was. Meara definitely wasn’t buying his attempts to smooth things over with her.
Finn suddenly grabbed her up in his arms without her permission and headed for the house like some damned medieval warrior bent on taking the woman for his own whether she approved or not.
Bjornolf scowled. They were just the moves he would have made if he’d had the chance and a soft touch wasn’t working.
Hell, it was a mating for sure.
***
For the first time since he’d been turned, Rourke was truly enjoying himself. Not that he had a news story to report, but he was really getting into investigating what he could concerning Hunter’s final SEAL mission. One thing he thought odd: quiet, unassuming Chris Tarleton had seemed unduly on edge when Rourke talked to Meara about the Knight of Swords. It wasn’t like the information was top secret or anything. And she had a right to know what was going on. Then he realized what it was all about. Chris didn’t want Meara looking into the matter because she was known for lunging into situations that could get her into real trouble. Hell, now he wished he hadn’t told her about it.
Rourke did another search on the Internet, breaking into areas that were classified but that he had a knack for getting into. Purely for research. If he’d wanted to be one of the bad guys, he probably could have made a lot of money at it. But he was cursed with wanting to do what was right—even down to stopping at a yellow light because it might turn red when he was in the middle of the intersection.
Thankfully, Hunter had enough faith in Rourke to allow him to remain unsupervised in his own apartment. And if Rourke could, he’d break this case for Hunter and stop whoever it was from trying to harm any of the rest of the SEALs or Meara. He wanted in the worst way to be an important pack member, someone others could rely on.
He chewed on his bottom lip and scrolled down the page some more. And then he figured he was going about this all wrong.
He called Dave, the other sub-leader, and when he answered the phone, Rourke said, “Chris gave me some of the information about the hit on Allan and the Knight of Swords card left behind. What do you know about any of it?”
Dave gave a grunt. “That’s Chris’s business. He’s the one who’s been looking into it. I’ve been busy with all the other pack troubles that come up. Don’t know a thing about any Knight of Swords card. Why would you need to know, Rourke? You’re not working on a new story, are you?”
“No. But this is what I do. Investigative reporting. Except the only reporting I intend to do is finding out who is behind this and giving Hunter the news so he can deal with it.”
Dave didn’t say anything for a moment. Then he let out his breath with a heavy sigh. “Really can’t help you with that. With petty wolf squabbles and one teen runaway, I have my hands full. Talk to Chris. If he believes he can trust that you’re not going to put this in the paper, he’ll fill you in. Good luck.”
“Thanks, Dave. I want to help solve this if I can.”
“You’re all right in my book, Rourke, and don’t let anyone tell you any differently.” Then the phone clicked dead.
Rourke was so surprised Dave would say so that he just sat staring at his computer monitor, absorbing the praise for a moment. Then he smiled—and then he frowned.
He wouldn’t get anywhere questioning Chris. If Chris wanted him to know something, he’d tell him. Otherwise, he’d say nothing to Rourke. If Chris had been taking notes about the investigation concerning the hit on Allan, where would they most likely be? His desk at home? Bedroom?
Chris didn’t have a human job. Running the pack with Dave kept him busy. Now he had to oversee renting Hunter and Meara’s cabins. That was where he was right now, dealing with two disgruntled renters.
Hunter would give Rourke hell if he knew the reporter had left the apartment without Chris’s okay, and even worse if he learned that Rourke had searched Chris’s house for evidence about the crimes against Hunter’s team without permission. But Chris wasn’t an investigative reporter. He might be sitting on the evidence that could prove who the mastermind of the whole operation was and never know what he was holding onto.
Rourke turned off his computer and grabbed his keys. If he could prove who was behind this, he had to do so. Lives were at stake. And this was a job he could do.
***
Meara couldn’t believe what she thought Finn had in mind as he carried her to the master bedroom. “But we’ve been staying in the guest bedroom. Shouldn’t we use the same room? Someone else should use this room.”
“No. You belong in here with me.” He smiled down at her as he put her on the bed.
“You said you wanted a heart-to-heart talk.” She was fairly sure that if they didn’t begin a conversation soon, it would quickly dissolve into something else.
“The chemistry between us is remarkable.”
“The chemistry.” If this was just about the sex…
“I’m not a romantic kind of guy.”
She smiled, not thinking that was true in the least. There was romance in castles with brawny Highlanders, and then there was romancing a SEAL. They were two entirely different scenarios, and she was over the moon with the SEAL.
“You’ve said so already. Although I’d have to graciously disagree with your claim.”
“I can’t compete with the heroes in your romance novels,” he said.
“Hmm, you’re right.”
He raised a brow, and she got the distinct impression he thought she should have argued with him over that.
“You make a passable hero,” she said, staring up at him with wide innocent eyes, although inside she was smiling with amusement as he towered over her next to the bed.
“Passable.” He snorted. “You want a mate, someone who’s an alpha. I’m not giving you up to anyone else, Meara. So that means—”
“Wait a minute,” she said, sitting up on the bed and figuring they’d better get the real issue out in the open before lust ruled their minds and bodies. “You would be just about right for my mate except for one thing. Your job.”
He didn’t look worried that she’d object to his line of work, which thoroughly puzzled her. But she wasn’t going to let that stop them any longer. She continued, “So here’s the deal—if you want to be mine, you’ll have to—”
“Give up my job?”
She wasn’t certain she wanted him to. That was one of the things she loved about him. His adventurous spirit and his desire to save the world and right wrongs where he could. How could he do that sitting on a beach with her for the rest of his life? She just couldn’t see him helping her with renting out the cabins. He’d feel chained to her, obligated to give up his life for her.
She shook her head. “No, I was actually thinking of—” She sighed, sure he wouldn’t go along with her idea.
“Of…?” he prompted.
“Well, you could still go on your missions, only I’d go with you. As your wife.”
A slow smile spread across his face.
She frowned at him. “I’m serious.”
“You’re not trained.”
“I could be. I could be as good as Anna. Maybe even better. And I’d be your mate, so we could be a team.”
“I’m tired of living out of a suitcase, Meara. I’m tired of sleeping out in the open or in rundown motel rooms, of waking in the middle of the night and not even knowing where I am.”
“I like to go camping and sleep out in the open,” she said, looking up at him, seeing the sincerity in his expression, and loving him. “I’m really an outdoors kind of girl.”
“Now that kind of camping, I can do. Snuggling in a sleeping bag built for two, watching the stars sparkle like white crystals on a midnight backdrop, and lots more s’mores… yeah, I could definitely get into that kind of camping. Steaks… and shrimp on the grill. It could work.”
“You wouldn’t miss all the danger and adventures?”
“From what Hunter told me while you were taking a bath, he had a whole truckload of danger right here on the Oregon coast once he moved the pack up here. And you were right in the middle of it.” Finn shrugged. “Danger and adventure are what you make of them. I’m sure I can find all kinds of trouble to get into right here.”
“You’re really serious?”
“I couldn’t be more so. But I want you to know one thing—Hunter is the one who contracted most of our missions after we left the Navy, not me.”
She gave him a slow smile. “I know.”
He frowned at her. “You were always giving me hell for getting the contracts.”
“Yep.”
Then he smiled evilly. “I told the guys you were only giving me a hard time so you could have a final word with me. That was the only way Hunter would permit you to see me. And he always give me a sinister smile afterward, glad you gave me hell instead of him.”
“Men are so—clueless,” she said.
“Clueless, eh?” He laughed and began removing her clothes.
“There’s no going back for us.” Meara pulled off her shirt as he tugged her pants off.
“There isn’t going to be.”
She enjoyed the way his breathing quickened, his pheromones stirred with lust.
His muscles tightened like a wolf ready to take down its prey. She gazed up at him and recognized the heat in his eyes. The testosterone filling his blood made him want her so badly that if she put a hand to his chest right now, she was sure she’d have a devil of a time convincing him she wanted to wait any longer.