Chapter 5
RUBBING HER eyes , she looked around and didn’t recognize anything about her surroundings. Things chittered and chirped and growled behind the green curtain surrounding her, but she lay on solid ground. Her jacket was wadded beneath her head. The left sleeve of her blouse had been ripped off and the scratches had been doctored. She discovered the shirt had been buttoned haphazardly and something pulled on the skin over her ribs when she moved to sit up.
She was alone. Had she imagined what happened before? Maybe it was some weird dream. Except she still didn’t know who she was. Or where. Or why. The roaring headache had subsided to a dull ache, making it slightly easier to think.
Silence slammed across the forest. All the rustling and animal sounds vanished between one heartbeat and the next. She scrambled to her feet. She might be prey, but she’d be damned if she’d go down without a fight.
Much as he’d emerged from the water, the man stepped into the clearing in all his glorious maleness. She swallowed the saliva flooding her mouth. She wanted to lick him, taste him, touch him. Shaking her head to regain control, she pressed her lips together, forced her eyes to his and waited.
He paced toward her, all lithe grace like some big cat or… Sun glinted in his eyes and something feral flashed in their depths. It took everything in her to stand her ground. He stopped an arm’s length way.
“Who are you?” She’d go on the offensive.
Antoine studied her. Her brown hair was a tangled mess but it reminded him of a deer’s hide—darks and lights intermingling as the sun brushed across it. She pushed it out of her face, as if she was used to wearing it back. Her eyes were the color of sweet tea with dark lashes framing them. Bruises bloomed on her cheek and jaw, marring her creamy skin. She had more on her torso.
Anger pounded with each beat of his heart. If he hadn’t already disposed of the men he presumed had hurt her, he would tuck her away safely and then go hunting. He growled deep in his chest. No one hurt his mate. Her eyes widened and she swallowed. The movement of her throat and the fluttering of the pulse just under her skin fascinated him for a long moment. He inhaled, filling his lungs with her scent. Beneath the fetid swamp, the stink of fear and pain, he discovered hers . Magnolias touched by a sea breeze. Sweet, but tangy. He would always be able to find her.
“I be Antoine.”
“That’s your name. Who are you?”
“I be d’man dat saved your life.”
He watched as she considered that. Her brow crinkled as the corners of her mouth turned down around pursed lips.
“Who were those men?”
That was a good question. They worked for the men trying to harm his niece and her mate and all the others. But why were they hunting her? Did his enemy’s enemy make her his friend? That was a matter for Mac and the other to decide. Right then, his cock and balls ached with the need to be buried deep inside her. But she was hurt. And afraid of him. The sour odor of fear wafted between them and his wolf whined. This woman should not fear him.
“They be bad men, wantin’ to hurt those I care about.”
“I don’t know you. Why are they after me?”
“Now dat be an in’trestin’ question, cher. Why indeed? Mebbe I should be askin’ who you be.”
She blinked and stepped back. He could almost taste the lie as the words rolled off her tongue.
“My name isn’t important.”
“Mebbe. Mebbe not. But who you be is. Those men, dey was huntin’. You. Dey didn’t even know I was dere. But you? Yeah, I be thinkin’ dey wanted you. An’ dat makes me very curious.”
Her eyes flickered and he watched them dilate as her gaze brushed across his cock. The damn thing twitched in anticipation, especially when she gulped. He could imagine her swallowing him all too easily.
“Don’t you have clothes?”
“I do. But dey be back at my camp.”
“Camp? What? Are you some…homeless person living out here in the swamps?”
The look on her face—incredulous and affronted at the same time—made him laugh. “I live in d’bayous, cher, just like all d’generations of my family.”
“Bayous? This is Louisiana then.”
She whispered the words, but the sense of relief behind them felt like a punch to his gut. “Yeah. Dis be Louisiana. Where you think you be at, cher?”
Her heart rate kicked up and the vinegar smell of lying rose from her skin. “I knew that.” Her eyes darted left and right, but wouldn’t fix on him.
Antoine gentled his voice and stepped closer. “What’s yer name, cher?”
Her mouth worked, her chin wobbling, but no words came out. He touched her temple with two fingertips, felt the knot there. She’d been hurt far worse than he’d realized. The man knew he should take her to the others, to let Sean, the group’s medic, look at her. But his wolf didn’t like the idea of other men around. Not even mated Wolves. Not until he’d claimed her.
Beneath the scent of her fear and lies, he detected the aroma that pleased his wolf. She wanted him. He would take her back to his camp, claim her as his mate, and then he would take her to Sean. He trailed his fingers across her cheeks and cupped her face in his palm.
“You been hurt, cher. You come wit’ me. I’ll take care of you.”
“No. I need to…” Her voice trailed off and a flare of panic lit in her eyes before she clamped down on her emotions.
“Need to what?”
“Go. I need to go.”
“You need to come with me.” He lowered his head, watching her closely. Her eyelids fluttered and then widened. Her nostrils flared the tiniest bit and her bottom lip curled under her top one only to emerge a second later wet and glistening. His cock thrummed with need and the aroma of her arousal fueled his actions.
“Come wit’ me, cher. You need help. I will help you.”
“No. I don’t know you.”
The corner of his mouth quirked into a half-smile. “Your body does.”
Her chest rose and fell as her breathing quickened. “I’m not…no. This is stupid. You’re a stranger. How do I know you don’t want to hurt me?”
“I can’t hurt you, cher. Dat would be like cuttin’ off my own arm.”
He rubbed his hand down her left arm, laced his fingers through hers and stepped back. “Come wit’ me, cher. We get you cleaned up. Some clothes. I take care o’ you.”
“I can take care of myself.” She dug in the heels of her bare feet.
“No, doux bébé . You cannot.”
She jerked on his arm in an attempt to free her hand. “What did you just call me?”
Despite a good effort, he couldn’t hide the smile her indignant words elicited. “ Doux bébé. Sweet baby.”
“What the hell? I’m not your baby .”
“You do not believe that. Not here.” He placed his free hand over her heart. She paled at his touch then blood rushed to her face, staining her skin. “You are mine, chère . Mine to take care of. To protect.”
The word no streamed through her mind in a long, continuous wail. It was bad enough she had no clue who she was or what this man was to her, but to have her body betray her the way it was? Too much. This was all too much. Her breasts felt swollen and if her clothes weren’t already wet, her panties would be soaked from her own juices. She couldn’t help looking down again. His cock was long, thick, the head smooth. The hair on his chest and trailing down to form a nest around his proud erection was a darker brown than his hair, had fewer reddish highlights.
Antoine. He’d said his name was Antoine. Antoine what? Where in Louisiana was she? And why was she here? Her head began to throb again and she had to close her eyes against the assault. Her hands clenched and she remembered the stranger still held one of them.
Yes, he was a stranger, but she felt…what? Besides horny as hell. Had she known him before? He’d asked her name so probably not, yet at the same time, he seemed like…home. And didn’t that just scare the piss out of her.
“Enough of dis. You will come wit’ me. You are mine now.”
“Not on your life.”
“You will not survive out here without me, cher.”
He looked so damned amused she wanted to slap the glee right off his face. “Take me to the nearest town.”
“No.”
Fuming, she jerked her hand again, for all the good it did. He simply chuckled, turned, and started walking again, pulling her along in his wake, despite her best efforts to drag him to a stop. His back was every bit as sexy as his chest and his butt was… Saliva dried in her mouth. How could she want this man? She didn’t know him. She was hurt, wet, filthy, and slightly terrified, but her vagina clenched with each step she took.
Lost in her self-argument, she barreled into that broad expanse of tan skin when he stopped abruptly. He let go of her hand as he turned to face her.
“Stop fighting me, cher. There are dangers in d’bayous.”
“Yeah. You.”
Something flashed in his eyes and he leaned toward her. “I am d’most dangerous animal in the swamp, cher. You be wise not t’be forgettin’ dat, yeah?”
He looked her up and down and damn if her nipples didn’t harden and peak under his perusal. He offered a sardonic grin to show he’d noticed.
“You want me so bad, doux bébé . Before d’night be over, you’ll be beggin’ me to bury my dick in dat sweet pussy o’yours.”
She refused to be intimidated, stepping closer, crowding him and jutting her face to his.
“Take it back.” She issued the demand through gritted teeth.
“No.”
She had anticipated this would be his response. “You don’t know a damn thing about me.” Good god, did his nostrils flare? Was he…sniffing her? Despite the primal desire present in his look, something else lurked as well. Compassion?
“I speak d’truth. You want me.”
“Do not.” Blood laced with adrenaline surged through her body. Fight or flight instincts roared to life as her fingers tingled and her toes dug into the leafy mulch, ready to bolt. The corner of his mouth quirked into a smirk she wanted to slap off his face, so fight it would be.
His arm snaked around her waist before she could react and pulled until she was pressed against his naked body. All that skin, including the erection jabbing against her stomach. Heat followed the adrenaline rush, but she refused to look away. Something stirred deep in the core of her that was all woman responding to the sheer testosterone wafting from the guy.
“You are mine. Don’t fight me.”
What the hell? “This is the twenty-first century. I’m not yours.”
“You will be.”
She inhaled sharply and her aching breasts collided with his bare chest. His hips rolled and she wanted to match the motion. She reined in her hormones in the nick of time. She leaned back, but he only tightened his arm. She glowered up at him. Why was she just now noticing how tall he was? Her fingertips tingled again, but not from a chemical rush. She needed to touch him, to smooth her hands over the expanse of bare skin in front of her face. “Let me go.”
“Never.”
“Neanderthal.”
“No. Wolf.”
Her heart skipped a couple of beats and she could almost feel her eyes dilate. The fight drained away as the instinct to run took over. Wolf? What did that mean? Memories stirred but she couldn’t pull them to the front of her brain. She almost laughed, but bit back the hysterical sound. She’d accused him of not knowing her. Hell, she didn’t know herself. Didn’t know her name, didn’t know where she was—other than the middle of some godforsaken swamp. Maybe she was involved with him. But wouldn’t she know him—at least on some visceral level? And wouldn’t he know her name?
She fisted her hands and clamped her thighs together. Her body definitely wanted him, but that begged the question. Could her body know him when her head didn’t?
“I will take you home now.”
“Home?” She brought her arms up between them and pushed back again, using her forearms against his chest for leverage. “I’m not going anywhere with you. I don’t know you. I’m not yours.”
His expression didn’t change. “You do know me. Yer body, it be knowin’ mine. You be my mate.”
“Oh hell no.” What the hell had happened to her? She was caught up in some weird horror movie.
He cupped her cheek in his palm, the rough skin teasing hers. “You been hurt, chère . I want only t’take care o’you.”
His accent finally penetrated. She’d heard it before—or something similar. She closed her eyes, brow knitting in concentration. Ignoring the headache throbbing in her temples, she tried to remember. Cajun? Swamp. Louisiana. She was getting closer to her memories. She hoped. But first, she had to get away, had to find a safe place. The steel band of his arm across her back loosened and he stepped back as if he was preparing to pick her up. This was her chance.
Instinct took over. She jerked her knee up between his legs, nailing him in the balls with as much force as she could muster. A breath later, she flattened her palms against his chest and shoved. He stumbled back, but she was already whirling, the instinct to run ruling her now. She’d lost her shoes but didn’t care. Her bare feet dug into the boggy ground and she ducked into the underbrush. His voice, sounding more amused than anything else, drifted after her.
“Run, chère . Run far. But know you never gonna be free.”
Her steps faltered. There was no place she could hide. She understood on some instinctual level that he would hunt her to the ends of the earth.