Free Sherry's Wolf by Maddy Barone Page A

come rescue me.”
    Stag stepped closer but stopped when she retreated. “No. They’re here only to be sure no strangers come close. But I promise I’m not going to hurt you. I want you to love me and accept me. Why would I hurt you?”
    “Because you’re a man!” she lashed out. “There’s only one bed. Where are you going to sleep?”
    “In the bed. With you. But that’s all we’ll do. Sleep. I’m not gonna tie you up or force you to do anything.”
    When she’d been making out with him in the pantry she thought he was overwhelming, like a steamroller flattening anything in his path. She hadn’t known the half of it. “Stag, please take me back.” She allowed the tears to well over. “ Please .”
    Stag turned away. “You know I can’t bear it when you cry.”
    Duh. Why else was she doing it? A girl had to use what weapons she had. “Please, Stag.”
    “No. I don’t like it when you cry, but if you need to cry, go ahead.”
    Outrage smothered the tears. She glared holes into Stag’s back as he strolled to the kitchen area. “What will it take to get you to take me back? Huh? A couple hours in bed? Fine! Let’s go!” She tore at the buttons on her wool flannel shirt, furious enough to be reckless. She had the shirt open before she realized he wasn’t even paying attention.
    “I hate you!” she screamed at him.
    His back was rigid. “That’s what Lady Amber told Dante,” he sighed obscurely. “But I hope you’ll change your mind.”
    He turned, and at the sight of her shirt hanging open his eyes popped wide. “Sherry? What are you doing?”
    She jerked the shirt off her shoulders. “Whatever I have to.”
    With the curiously elegant speed all the wolves had, he swept to stand in front of her, hauling her shirt back up. “Sherry, no.” He fumbled to fasten the top button.
    “Don’t you want to sleep with me?” she demanded. By the look of the front of his breechcloth, that question was a no brainer.
    “Not like this,” he answered grimly. “I want you so bad it hurts, but I want you to want me too, and right now, you don’t.”
    He was right, but he could change that. Having him so close that his scent flooded her nose reminded her what a fine looking man he was. Her lips were only inches from his throat. It would be so easy to touch her tongue to his firm brown skin and lick her way up his neck to nibble his earlobe. But she was mad at him. Yeah, she was angry enough to want to hurt him. “How do you know I don’t?” she taunted. “Maybe I can’t wait to feel your mouth on me again.”
    “No, you don’t. I can smell when you’re aroused and right now …” He trailed off, inhaling like a man sniffing a fine wine. His hands stilled on her buttons, eyes widening. “You do want me!”
    Sherry jerked angrily away. “Guess again.” She buttoned her shirt with fingers made clumsy by embarrassment and anger. “I’m not turned on, I’m pissed off. There’s a difference, okay?”
    “Okay,” he placated. “Come help me get supper started.”
     
    * * *
     
    What remained of the afternoon was awkward. They moved carefully around each other in the kitchen while preparing and eating supper, and then cleaning up afterward. Sherry was acutely aware that she was locked in a tiny cabin with a drop dead gorgeous man who wanted her. She’d spent the last two months struggling against her attraction to him. But she would not give in, no matter what he did to her.
    She spent the first hour of the evening planted in one of the chairs in front of the fire, knitting in morose silence while Stag, as always, watched her with unnerving attention. When her tired hands needed a break from knitting, she counted the flagstones in the hearth. Stag was unnervingly content to gaze at her in silence.
    Finally, she snapped, “You brought me here so we could talk and get to know one another, right? So talk!”
    He did. He told her about his training to be the Clan’s next wicasa wakan. Sherry