Winter of the Wolf by Cherise Sinclair Page A

his. “You weren’t afraid when you took on two drunks.” He knew what she smeled like when she was afraid—exactly the scent he caught now. “There’s only one of me, yet you are frightened.”
    She started to shake her head in denial.
    “Don’t lie.”
    “Fine.” Her glare was diminished by the hint of terror in her eyes. “They were little—no, they weren’t,” she corrected. “You’re just so very big. And unfriendly. And you loom over me.”
    She turned to grab her tray off the bar and stopped.
    Holding the drink orders off her tray, Calum was watching them. He tilted his head at Bree. “I regret again, he would be difficult to cut down to size.”
    The double meaning didn’t escape Zeb, and he lifted his beer in acknowledgment.
    As the Cosantir moved away, leafing through the tickets, Bree glanced up at Zeb. “I can’t decide. Does he like you or not?”
    “Damned if I can tel.” Zeb looked into her big blue eyes and deliberately rubbed a knuckle up and down her soft cheek. Why did he feel the need to get her accustomed to his hands on her?
    He watched her stiffen and over-ride her instinct to retreat.
    Gutsy little human. He asked, “Got suggestions on how to Gutsy little human. He asked, “Got suggestions on how to make friends with people?”
    “I’l think about it.” She knocked his hand away from her face in a skilful move. “In fact, I’l make you a nice long list.”

    * * *
    An hour later in the tavern kitchen, Bree reluctantly puled on her jacket and headed toward the door. It had been so fun to be back in the midst of people, surrounded by conversation and laughter. But now she’d been sent home like a baby. Jeez.
    Earlier, Calum had seen her limping and told her to take a break. She’d tried for a few minutes, but sitting while Vicki worked had been impossible. Unfortunately, when Bree had handed him a new pile of orders, Calum had thanked her, taken her tray away, and ordered her to leave.
    She glanced back. Yes, he was watching to make sure she obeyed.
    Fine. I’m going . And maybe he was right. Her thigh throbbed as if teeth were biting at it. And even though she’d used her good arm to carry the tray, her wounded one ached. So did her shoulder. Overdone it a little, dummy ?
    As the door closed behind her, shutting off the babble of voices, she took a slow breath of cold night air. Up above, fat stars dotted the black sky. In the east, white-topped fat stars dotted the black sky. In the east, white-topped mountain peaks gleamed in the waning moonlight. Seattle was beautiful, but it had never grabbed her throat like this.
    Smiling, she set out along the side of the building toward the shortcut she’d discovered earlier. Fishermen staying at the lodge had made a bee-line trail through the woods to the tavern.
    As she moved away from the lit windows, unease crept up her spine. She’d walked over in the dusk, not thinking about how dark it would be on the walk home. Where was that darn four-footed Elvis when she needed him?
    A huge man stepped out of the shadows.
    Terror stopped her breathing. Every instinct said flee —but the door was too far. She lurched backwards, bringing up her guard. As her bad leg quivered with her weight, sickness baled in her bely, knowing what would come.
    The monster didn’t move, but gave a long-suffering sigh.
    “You gonna threaten me every time we meet?” He stepped into a pool of light. Black hair, wide shoulders, a corner of his mouth tipped-up. Zeb .
    Relief melted her bones, and she sagged against the log wal. “I’m sorry. I didn’t see you standing there.”
    “Weak apology.”
    Her hands were shaking. “It was an explanation, not an apology.”
    “Uh-huh.” He wrapped his fingers around her arm and
    “Uh-huh.” He wrapped his fingers around her arm and tugged her forward. Effortlessly. “Let’s go.”
    “What do you mean? Go?”
    He nodded at the crowded parking lot. “No car. Means you walked.” The pressure of his hand