for him disappeared. In sleep, his face was tranquil. She gripped the handles of her crutches as he stirred and muttered something in his sleep, turning onto his side. One of his arms hung over the edge of the couch, his curved fingers resting against the carpeted floor. He was bathed in sweat, and the sheen emphasized the muscles across his shoulder and upper back.
There was such a powerful beauty to Wolf. Sarah wavered. Should she go back to the bedroom or try to quietly reach the kitchen for the cup of tea? The tea was terribly tempting; it was the only thing that settled her nerves and imagination enough that she could get to sleep. Moving slowly and quietly forward, Sarah opted for the tea.
Wolf slept lightly, as was his custom. A vague noise awakened him instantly, and he jerked into a sitting position, his fists cocked. Disoriented for a second, he saw Sarah, in a knee-length nightgown, freeze in the center of the room.
"Oh, dear. I'm sorry, Wolf. I thought I was being quiet." Sarah stood there uncertainly. Wolf's eyes were softened by sleep. Black strands of hair hung across his brow.
"Sarah?" he croaked, frowning. "What's wrong? Are you all right?" He rose to his feet without thinking, wrapping the sheet around his waist.
Sarah's eyes widened, and she sucked in a quick breath as Wolf approached, casting a giant shadow in the gloom of the room. "I'm fine. . . fine. . ." He moved with such fluid ease. As Wolf drew near, Sarah could easily see the terrible series of scars on his chest, and the sight made her want to cry. What kind of pain had this man endured?
Wolf halted inches from her. The fine, thin blond hair about her face and shoulders was like a wraith's. He searched her eyes for the real answer, knowing that what she said might cover what she was really feeling. "Bad dreams?" he asked gently.
Sarah hesitated. "No. . . yes. . . in a way. . . .I slept for just a little while and then woke up." She managed a sad smile. "I got to thinking about what you said in the kitchen last night. . . ."
"Oh."
The word came out hard and flat. Sarah knew Wolf didn't want to talk about it. "When I get like this, a cup of tea always helps me sleep. I was trying to cross the living room without waking you to get to the kitchen." Unhappily she added, "It didn't work."
Relieved that nothing was seriously wrong, Wolf relaxed. He bunched the sheet around him more securely where it had parted to reveal the length of his hairy thigh. Sarah had a high flush to her cheeks, and he read in her face a mixture of awe, fear and longing that made him acutely sensitive to how he affected her as a man.
"Could you stand some company?" Wolf asked. He wanted to join her but knew better than to push himself on her. Let her decide, he thought. He saw the indecision in her eyes turn to surprise.
"Sure, if you want."
He forced a sleepy smile. "Let me get more decent and I'll join you."
Nodding, Sarah suddenly remembered her own thin cotton nightgown. It wasn't sheer, but she felt vulnerable in it and wished for her robe. "I'll be right back. I want to get my robe."
"I'll get it for you," he said easily. "My pants are in the bedroom."
"Okay, I'll make the tea," Sarah said, aware of an oddly breathless quality in her voice.
Wolf padded down the hall to his bedroom, allowing the sheet to drop to the floor once he'd entered. With a scowl, he looked at his bed. The blankets were on the floor, the sheet twisted like a rag. Sarah was more than just a restless sleeper. Aching to hold her, but knowing that wasn't the answer Sarah needed, Wolf crossed to the dresser and put on a pair of jeans. He pulled a clean white T-shirt over his head. Maria had been deathly afraid of him without clothes. His uncovered chest had made her shrink back in terror.
Wolf slammed the door on the flow of memories. But since being around Sarah, he couldn't seem to force his feelings and memories away as easily as he once had. "Damn," he whispered, padding out of the
There was such a powerful beauty to Wolf. Sarah wavered. Should she go back to the bedroom or try to quietly reach the kitchen for the cup of tea? The tea was terribly tempting; it was the only thing that settled her nerves and imagination enough that she could get to sleep. Moving slowly and quietly forward, Sarah opted for the tea.
Wolf slept lightly, as was his custom. A vague noise awakened him instantly, and he jerked into a sitting position, his fists cocked. Disoriented for a second, he saw Sarah, in a knee-length nightgown, freeze in the center of the room.
"Oh, dear. I'm sorry, Wolf. I thought I was being quiet." Sarah stood there uncertainly. Wolf's eyes were softened by sleep. Black strands of hair hung across his brow.
"Sarah?" he croaked, frowning. "What's wrong? Are you all right?" He rose to his feet without thinking, wrapping the sheet around his waist.
Sarah's eyes widened, and she sucked in a quick breath as Wolf approached, casting a giant shadow in the gloom of the room. "I'm fine. . . fine. . ." He moved with such fluid ease. As Wolf drew near, Sarah could easily see the terrible series of scars on his chest, and the sight made her want to cry. What kind of pain had this man endured?
Wolf halted inches from her. The fine, thin blond hair about her face and shoulders was like a wraith's. He searched her eyes for the real answer, knowing that what she said might cover what she was really feeling. "Bad dreams?" he asked gently.
Sarah hesitated. "No. . . yes. . . in a way. . . .I slept for just a little while and then woke up." She managed a sad smile. "I got to thinking about what you said in the kitchen last night. . . ."
"Oh."
The word came out hard and flat. Sarah knew Wolf didn't want to talk about it. "When I get like this, a cup of tea always helps me sleep. I was trying to cross the living room without waking you to get to the kitchen." Unhappily she added, "It didn't work."
Relieved that nothing was seriously wrong, Wolf relaxed. He bunched the sheet around him more securely where it had parted to reveal the length of his hairy thigh. Sarah had a high flush to her cheeks, and he read in her face a mixture of awe, fear and longing that made him acutely sensitive to how he affected her as a man.
"Could you stand some company?" Wolf asked. He wanted to join her but knew better than to push himself on her. Let her decide, he thought. He saw the indecision in her eyes turn to surprise.
"Sure, if you want."
He forced a sleepy smile. "Let me get more decent and I'll join you."
Nodding, Sarah suddenly remembered her own thin cotton nightgown. It wasn't sheer, but she felt vulnerable in it and wished for her robe. "I'll be right back. I want to get my robe."
"I'll get it for you," he said easily. "My pants are in the bedroom."
"Okay, I'll make the tea," Sarah said, aware of an oddly breathless quality in her voice.
Wolf padded down the hall to his bedroom, allowing the sheet to drop to the floor once he'd entered. With a scowl, he looked at his bed. The blankets were on the floor, the sheet twisted like a rag. Sarah was more than just a restless sleeper. Aching to hold her, but knowing that wasn't the answer Sarah needed, Wolf crossed to the dresser and put on a pair of jeans. He pulled a clean white T-shirt over his head. Maria had been deathly afraid of him without clothes. His uncovered chest had made her shrink back in terror.
Wolf slammed the door on the flow of memories. But since being around Sarah, he couldn't seem to force his feelings and memories away as easily as he once had. "Damn," he whispered, padding out of the
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