Untamed Hunger Page 3

  She’d pretty much already mapped out the contours of his muscular stomach, with her fingers, under the guise of adjusting her hold on him as they skimmed over the asphalt. The way his shoulders moved, the muscles tensing and relaxing, shifting beneath her cheek as she rested her head on his back. All of it—aided by the vibration of the big machine beneath her—had awakened something long dormant inside.

  “Where’s here, and where’s almost?” she asked, trying to get her head straight.

  “We’re close to Clyde, and almost is a cabin.”

  “Who’s Clyde?”

  Gunner undid the straps holding her duffel, and she grabbed it off the back of the bike. She still carried the satchel, the long strap slung across her body. No way would she trust that to a bungee cord on the back of a bike. Clothes, shoes, even her toothbrush…all that she could do without. But the stuff in the satchel was irreplaceable.

  “Not a who, a where. It’s a little town in North Carolina, and we’re outside of it by about twenty miles,” he replied.

  “Oh.”

  He’d done whatever he needed to do with the bike to secure it and, from nowhere, a small leather backpack materialized in his hands. He hung the strap over his shoulder and motioned toward the trees.

  “It’s this way, a short hike through the woods. The path is well marked. Should be pretty easy for you in those boots,” Gunner told her.

  “Lead the way.”

  He turned and she followed, pushing aside brush and tree limbs. If there was a path, she had no idea where it might be hiding. Gunner seemed to be carving it out as they went.

  “Are you sure you know where you’re going?” A branch slapped her face, and a bramble wound its thorny fingers around her leg. She leaned down and removed it carefully while he disappeared ahead of her.

  “Yeah. Been coming here, on and off, since I was a kid.” His voice came from somewhere ahead.

  “Crap,” she mumbled, standing back up. Claire scanned the dark forest, trying to get a line on him. Everything smelled like pine and cold air. “Hey, can you wait? I’m stuck…” She yanked at another vine and impaled herself on something sharp, causing her to yelp in pain.

  “You okay?” His voice was so close it startled her.

  She waved her hand toward the prickly vines. “Yeah. I’m just…” She sighed. “Having problems, I guess.”

  He bit back a smile. “Here…” Gunner took her hand, guiding her back to what she guessed was the path. At least it didn’t have things that lunged out, trying to kill her.

  “You’re not much of a nature girl, are you?” He’d slowed down a little, and she could at least follow his outline moving ahead of her. It did seem to be easier walking.

  “Not so much. The most I’ve ever experienced was an overgrown backyard as a kid.”

  “You’ve never tracked?”

  “I’ve never had to track anyone through the forest. Through the city, now that’s a different story. Nothing can hide from me there.”

  “I’ve never met a city shifter before. All my folk come from the wilderness.” Gunner stopped suddenly, and she walked into his back.

  “What the hell?” she said, frowning.

  He held up a hand. “Quiet. The cabin’s just ahead.” His voice was low, just above a growl.

  She stood motionless, every sense coming alive. Gunner was just as still, and she thought, given his body language, he was sniffing the air. A sour wave of fear ran through her and she tensed behind him. A long moment later, he spoke.

  “It’s okay.” He stepped forward, his body relaxing. “There’s a trailhead not far down the hill, and sometimes hikers get lost and end up here. I’ve found them sleeping under the overhang on the downhill side. Might have been the scent I caught.”

  The scent? She shivered. “You’re sure? It’s not…”

  “No. It’s human, not shifter. And days old.”

  Claire relaxed.

  They walked down a short path through another open clearing. A small building stood, its outline visible against the night sky. She could also smell now what must have alerted Gunner. It was the faintest of human scent and just one person.

  “Wait here.” He moved away and she heard metal on metal, then the creak of a door opening. Yellow light spilled down the path, momentarily blinding her.

  “Come on up,” he called through the darkness.

  Gunner stood in the open doorway, and she climbed the short flight of wooden steps, stepping past him.

  “How do you get electricity up here?” she asked.

  “I have a couple of generators.”

  “Ah.”

  The cabin was small but clean, and extremely… organized. It was uncluttered but appeared to have everything you’d need. Claire wondered if there was a woman’s touch involved here, but decided it was too spartan.

  “Is this your cabin?” She set her duffel on the floor.

  “It’s been in the family for a couple generations. There was a long-ago great-grandfather who grew up in the area. He built this and lived here till he died. It was passed down from father to son, until… me.”

  “And you’re the last of the line?”

  Gunner glanced up, giving her a rueful smile. “Yeah, sort of. I guess I’m what you call a rogue shifter. Kind of funny, considering how much we’re supposed to be clan animals.”

  Claire walked to the other side of the cabin, to a big window that, she supposed, during the day looked out over a meadow. Right now, the dark glass reflected back her image: tangled hair, drawn face…and fear.

  “Thanks for…well, thanks for this.” She turned, spreading her hands. The gesture felt inadequate somehow. He’d done far more than just give her a roof for the night. “I mean, you’re taking a big chance just being with me, much less grabbing me practically right out of Adrian’s hands.”

  Gunner had taken up a position in the small kitchen, opening cabinets, wielding a can opener, and making noises that sounded like the possibility of dinner. In response, her stomach growled.

  Gunner cast her a sidelong look, one corner of his mouth lifting in a grin. “You hungry? There’s nothing fresh, just canned goods. I’m not the best in the kitchen, but I can put something together.”

  “Yeah, anything is fine, warm or not. I’m starving.”

  He tipped his head toward another door down a short hall. “If you want to clean up…take a shower.”

  “Yeah. I’m a little…windblown.” She grabbed her duffel.

  The noises from the kitchen followed her into the bathroom, cutting off as she closed the door. She cringed after a glance in the mirror. Her hair was a tangled mess, her face covered in a layer of road dust. Plus, she smelled of sweat…and fear. Not the most alluring of scents.

  Despite the small size, the bathroom had a large shower. The water was hot; she stripped off her clothes and was under it in seconds, sighing as it sprayed through her hair and over her shoulders. She noticed a bottle of generic shampoo, and body-wash, resting on the bathtub. Feeling gross, she used lavish amounts.

  Overcompensating, she thought, trying too hard to wash away the residue of Adrian more than the dust and grime from the road.

  Before she completely used all the hot water, she reluctantly turned it off, dried, and put on a fresh set of clothes from her duffel.

  There wasn’t much she could do with her hair, so she settled for a quick comb and then let it hang down her back. It would revolt, rising up in a curly mess, but life on the run meant unruly hair.

  “You’re just in time.” Gunner pointed to the table. “Have a seat. This is the best I could do.”

  He set a plate in front of her. She blinked. “Spaghetti? It looks…and smells amazing.” She picked up a fork, took a tentative bite. And then dug in with serious intent. “Oh my God…what the heck did you put in this?” She took another mouthful before he could answer.

  Gunner sat across from her. “Tomato sauce. I didn’t have any meat, so I used some spices from the cupboard, to
give it more flavor. I also added garlic and onion.”

  “It’s so good.” She took another mouthful, closing her eyes as she chewed. Either she was starving or it really was the best spaghetti sauce she’d ever had. She figured that it was a little of both.

  “Thanks.”

  Opening her eyes, she caught the smile on his face. He looked more than a little embarrassed by her enthusiasm over the food.

  6

  They ate in silence, Claire’s mind racing from the day’s events. Finally, she pushed her plate away and sat back, her hunger satisfied.

  “Thanks for everything, Gunner,” she said softly.

  “It was my pleasure.” He stood up and started clearing the table.

  “Let me help you,” she said, getting up.

  They brought the dishes into the kitchen and rinsed them out in the sink.

  Afterward, Gunner opened up the refrigerator and turned back to her. “I forgot about the wine. I’d brought a couple of bottles with me the last time I stopped by. Would you like a glass?”

  “Yes. It sounds great. I’m a little surprised. I haven’t met a lot of guys who actually drink wine,” she said.

  “I was raised by wine drinkers. Plus, I have a sweet tooth. Hope you enjoy Moscato?”

  “I’m sure I will.”

  “Make yourself at home,” he told her, pulling a cork screw out of a drawer.

  “Okay.”

  The cabin was small and there wasn’t much for furniture. In fact, the only other real option, for sitting down, was the bed. As inviting as it looked—and the promises it held—she wasn’t ready yet for that, so she sat back down at the table.

  The low-level hum began in her head again, the subtle noise that she’d noticed at the diner and seemed like an eternity ago. The pit of her stomach fluttered as she watched him in the kitchen, his back to her. She remembered the warmth of his stomach under her fingers and how erotic it felt, pressing against him on the bike. They weren’t on the motorcycle now, and there wasn’t anything between them except the old pine table.

  Gunner set both glasses of wine on the table and settled back in the chair across from her. The chilled wine was pink and she took a large swallow.

  “This is good.”

  “Thanks.”

  She looked around. “You have a really well-stocked kitchen here. In the middle of nowhere. I wasn’t expecting it.”

  Gunner shrugged. “Like I said before, I come out here a lot. It’s my home-away-from-home. Anyway, with every trip, I try to bring something. Just in case.”

  “In case of a visitor?”

  “I don’t get many of those. In case I suddenly crave something that isn’t available to me,” he said, his eyes sparkling in the dim light.

  The way he was looking at her gave her goosebumps. Now she was also at the cabin. She wondered if he was craving something else entirely, now.

  They sat for many minutes in silence, enjoying the wine. Claire found Gunner’s eyes on her every time she looked up. And that was happening more and more frequently. She noticed more than just his physical interest in her in those blue depths, however. He had questions. She wasn’t sure she wanted to start that conversation, so she waited. It didn’t take long for him to ask.

  “So, you left the guy at the altar? Did you just get cold feet and bail?”

  “Yeah, something like that. He’s a pretty angry guy, and I…” Her voice faltered, as the memory came back. The pain and humiliation she’d felt. The fight or flight response kicking in.

  “You ran?”

  “I couldn’t go through with it. He’d go into rages where it was like anger blinded him to everything.” She stared into space, remembering the dark times with Adrian. “He was so aggressive and violent. I hadn’t met anyone like him before.”

  Gunner’s eyes hardened. “He beat you? Why?”

  She grunted and shrugged. “Because he could. Because I didn’t think I had a choice…then. And he knew that.”

  “Everyone has a choice.” Gunner leaned back, and grabbed the wine bottle from the counter. He refilled her glass and then his.

  Claire took another swallow before answering.

  “It’s not that simple. Adrian’s the only legitimate son of our Alpha. And, he is one of the most influential men I know. He had connections here, and back in the Old Country. Deep connections. This isn’t some New World clan. It goes back…way back.”

  “Was this an arranged marriage?”

  A warmth she couldn’t blame on the wine flushed through her, and she dropped her eyes. “I was payment for a family debt.”

  Gunner sputtered on his wine. “Really? What the hell kind of family pays their debts with an arranged marriage?”

  Claire shrugged. “Mine. Old family. Old country. Old debt. My father…I guess you could say he did work for Adrian’s father. Apparently, doing stuff that nobody else would do.”

  “What did he do?”

  “I’m not sure, exactly. Something pretty bad, I think. But, I don’t know the details. Adrian’s father, Victor, offered mine the deal a long time ago. Back when I was still a teenager. I guess that’s when whatever happened, happened. And the bastard took it, rather than be kicked out of the clan.”

  “So, family honor wins out over family? That’s harsh.”

  Claire fidgeted with the wineglass. “My father’s old-fashioned. ‘Honor the Alpha’ above everything.”

  “He’s okay with you being on the run now?”

  And this was the hard part, one of many. “My father is dead.”

  Gunner looked suitably stunned for a moment. “I’m guessing it wasn’t old age?”

  Claire shook her head. “Victor had him killed.”

  “Why? When?”

  Claire shrugged. “As a warning, I guess. I found out about it, not long after I ran away. When I was stupid enough to keep in touch with family. I think that’s how Adrian almost caught up with me the first time. Through my family.”

  “Killing your father was going to get you to come back to the fold? Kind of seems like overkill…sorry, bad choice of words.”

  “I don’t know if that’s the reason why my father was killed. I think my running away was it, but I don’t know. It might just be his way of threatening me or the rest of my family, to obey his wishes.”

  “And how are you with that? You don’t seem too upset…” Gunner’s eyes held hers, his forehead furrowed.

  “I…well…” She looked down at her hands. “I think ‘confused’ would probably sum it up in a nutshell. I mean, he sold me to Victor. I hated him for a long time because of that. But then, he was still my father. Some days I try not to think about it too much.”

  “So, you’ve made some dangerous enemies by really pissing Adrian off, it sounds like.”

  Claire closed her eyes, rubbing one hand across them. “I know. It’s that honor thing. I humiliated Adrian, and when his pride is hurt, he’s irrational. Of course, Victor backs him. He’s the only son. The ‘heir’ to the throne.” She snorted “A spoiled brat, actually.”

  “It sounds like it. Still, you’d think he’d just move on instead of killing your old man or going after you.”

  “I know. Murder seems like a pretty drastic measure. You’d think he’d just be happy that I’ve tried so hard to drop off the face of the earth. It all doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. But when it involves Adrian…he’s never been predictable.”

  Gunner tipped back in his chair. “Well, hell. You are in a tough spot.”

  She nodded. “Which is why I’m always on the move.”

  They lapsed back into silence, but Claire’s mind spun on. Any rational guy, tiger shifter or not, wouldn’t want this kind of mess in his life. If Gunner took her back to the road now, and left her sitting by the side of it on her duffel, she wouldn’t blame him.

  Gunner finally sat forward, a serious expression on his face. “Okay… well, we need to figure out a plan. What do you want to do?”

  Claire set her empty gl
ass on the table. “I hadn’t thought…I just wanted to get away. I only know how to run.”

  “That’s just it. You can’t keep running, Claire. It’s only a matter of time before he finds you in some place where you can’t get away.”

  Claire twirled the wineglass between her fingers, avoiding Gunner’s eyes.

  He got up from the table, taking her empty glass from her.

  “I know…but…” She didn’t want to think about it now. Her head was fuzzy, partly from the wine and mostly from thinking about Adrian and Victor.

  “I’m going to grab a shower. It’s late. If you want to get changed for bed…”

  She imagined him in the shower. Water streaming over his, muscular, sexy body. She pictured herself, joining him. Both naked and hungry for each other.

  As if reading her mind, his own eyes filled with desire. He pushed away from the counter and walked toward her, his eyes locked on hers. The air between them practically crackled, and Claire suddenly had a hard time catching her breath.

  “You feel it too, don’t you?” he murmured. “This thing between us?”

  She nodded.

  His hand was suddenly on her arm, sliding up to her neck, cradling the back of her head with strong fingers. She closed her eyes, leaning into his hand, breathing out a deep sigh.

  “Claire…” he said, huskily.

  The sound of his voice was like sex to her ears. A deep thud hit her, low, somewhere south of her belly button, north of her knees, pretty much melting everything in between.

  “Yes?” She opened her eyes, looking into his.

  His eyes burned into hers. “It’s hard being a gentleman right now.”

  Her breath hitched. “What are you saying?”

  His smile only made her knees weaker, the warmth inside her flaring into a full-fledged fire. “That I want you. Badly. If I didn’t need a shower, I’d prove it right here and right now.

  She wanted him, too. It was hard getting the words out, however. Instead, she just smiled.

  “I’ll be back.” He kissed her forehead, his fingers caressing her neck. He released her and she heard the bathroom door close.