room in his bare feet, Sarah's robe in his hand.
They sat at the darkened table, each holding a cup of steaming-hot tea. Sarah was delighted when Wolf found a lemon in the refrigerator and placed a few slices on a small saucer between them. And instead of sugar he'd offered her sweet clover honey.
"When I was a little girl, my mom would fix me tea with lemon and honey when I was sick," Sarah said in a quiet voice. "I loved it. She always said the lemon had lots of vitamins."
Wolf nodded, his arm resting on the table, his large hand curved around his china cup. "Tea won't fix what happened to you, though, Sarah."
"I suppose not," she responded sadly.
"Tell me something. After those two jerks jumped you, did you go get help?"
"What kind of help? I reported it to Sheriff Noonan— but that's like spitting in the wind."
"An abuse or crisis center of some kind?"
She smiled wryly. "Here in Backwater, U.S.A.?"
"Did you talk to anyone about the assault?"
With a shake of her head, Sarah said, "No, but what good would that do, anyway?"
"Talk's part of the healing process to anyone who's been traumatized."
"I wasn't hurt much. I had a black eye for a week, was all. "
"You were a victim," Wolf said. "It makes you start behaving unconsciously to protect yourself from another possible similar situation."
"Oh, my jumpiness and paranoia?"
He smiled. "I like your honesty, Sarah Thatcher. It's one of many good traits you have. Yes, your hyperalert state is what I'm talking about."
She turned the teacup around in her hands. "There's nothing wrong with me."
"Oh?"
Sarah eyeballed him.
"Then why did I see fear in your eyes when I got up off the couch and walked toward you a little while ago?"
"Well. . ." Sarah stumbled over her words. "You came out of the shadows. I told you before, at night, shadows look like those two men coming to attack me again. I wasn't reacting to you."
Wolf held her serious gaze. Did he dare hope that was the truth? He had failed miserably before—failed in a way that had cost the person he loved, first her peace of mind, then her life. He couldn't bear to face the pain of the rejection he'd suffered. But, even more, he didn't dare face the possibly life-threatening consequences for
Sarah if he ran. Gruffly he probed Sarah's fear. "Are you very sure of that?"
"Of course I am."
"I don't scare you?"
"No."
He smiled slightly. "Your heart doesn't start pounding when I approach you?"
Sarah lowered her lashes. That was exactly what her heart did, but it certainly wasn't out of fear. It was out of some forbidden, sweet excitement he created within her. "You don't scare me," she assured him.
Wolf couldn't believe the relief he felt at Sarah's admission. Her soft blue gaze made him want to reach out and embrace the hell out of her. "I'm glad," he muttered darkly. "I'm no prize, but maybe I can help make a difference in the situation for you. I hope I can. . . ."
Sarah heard the raw pain in Wolf's tone and noted that he refused to meet her gaze. "You're a prize in my eyes," she admitted unsteadily, her emotions overwhelming her. "I don't know what you see in me, and I guess it doesn't really matter. I'm just grateful you're standing between me and Summers and his men. I've lived with horrible daily fear this last six months." She managed a painful smile as he raised his head. "You're a shield to me, Wolf."
Wolf turned his cup slowly on its saucer. If he told Sarah the truth, how much she touched him, how she made him feel alive again, she might run. Worse, if Sarah knew the truth of his past, she'd probably want him to leave. Clearing his throat, he said, "I've always had a place in my heart for underdogs.” That should be non - threatening enough. Her young face was so young and serious.
"I can use all the help I can get," Sarah admitted, a catch in her voice. "If you want to be my guard dog, I'm all for it."
The light, the hope, shining in Sarah's eyes was so endearing, he kept his doubts to
They sat at the darkened table, each holding a cup of steaming-hot tea. Sarah was delighted when Wolf found a lemon in the refrigerator and placed a few slices on a small saucer between them. And instead of sugar he'd offered her sweet clover honey.
"When I was a little girl, my mom would fix me tea with lemon and honey when I was sick," Sarah said in a quiet voice. "I loved it. She always said the lemon had lots of vitamins."
Wolf nodded, his arm resting on the table, his large hand curved around his china cup. "Tea won't fix what happened to you, though, Sarah."
"I suppose not," she responded sadly.
"Tell me something. After those two jerks jumped you, did you go get help?"
"What kind of help? I reported it to Sheriff Noonan— but that's like spitting in the wind."
"An abuse or crisis center of some kind?"
She smiled wryly. "Here in Backwater, U.S.A.?"
"Did you talk to anyone about the assault?"
With a shake of her head, Sarah said, "No, but what good would that do, anyway?"
"Talk's part of the healing process to anyone who's been traumatized."
"I wasn't hurt much. I had a black eye for a week, was all. "
"You were a victim," Wolf said. "It makes you start behaving unconsciously to protect yourself from another possible similar situation."
"Oh, my jumpiness and paranoia?"
He smiled. "I like your honesty, Sarah Thatcher. It's one of many good traits you have. Yes, your hyperalert state is what I'm talking about."
She turned the teacup around in her hands. "There's nothing wrong with me."
"Oh?"
Sarah eyeballed him.
"Then why did I see fear in your eyes when I got up off the couch and walked toward you a little while ago?"
"Well. . ." Sarah stumbled over her words. "You came out of the shadows. I told you before, at night, shadows look like those two men coming to attack me again. I wasn't reacting to you."
Wolf held her serious gaze. Did he dare hope that was the truth? He had failed miserably before—failed in a way that had cost the person he loved, first her peace of mind, then her life. He couldn't bear to face the pain of the rejection he'd suffered. But, even more, he didn't dare face the possibly life-threatening consequences for
Sarah if he ran. Gruffly he probed Sarah's fear. "Are you very sure of that?"
"Of course I am."
"I don't scare you?"
"No."
He smiled slightly. "Your heart doesn't start pounding when I approach you?"
Sarah lowered her lashes. That was exactly what her heart did, but it certainly wasn't out of fear. It was out of some forbidden, sweet excitement he created within her. "You don't scare me," she assured him.
Wolf couldn't believe the relief he felt at Sarah's admission. Her soft blue gaze made him want to reach out and embrace the hell out of her. "I'm glad," he muttered darkly. "I'm no prize, but maybe I can help make a difference in the situation for you. I hope I can. . . ."
Sarah heard the raw pain in Wolf's tone and noted that he refused to meet her gaze. "You're a prize in my eyes," she admitted unsteadily, her emotions overwhelming her. "I don't know what you see in me, and I guess it doesn't really matter. I'm just grateful you're standing between me and Summers and his men. I've lived with horrible daily fear this last six months." She managed a painful smile as he raised his head. "You're a shield to me, Wolf."
Wolf turned his cup slowly on its saucer. If he told Sarah the truth, how much she touched him, how she made him feel alive again, she might run. Worse, if Sarah knew the truth of his past, she'd probably want him to leave. Clearing his throat, he said, "I've always had a place in my heart for underdogs.” That should be non - threatening enough. Her young face was so young and serious.
"I can use all the help I can get," Sarah admitted, a catch in her voice. "If you want to be my guard dog, I'm all for it."
The light, the hope, shining in Sarah's eyes was so endearing, he kept his doubts to
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