Free Desert Wolf by Heather Long Page A

they climbed through the gentle rise to the adobe compound Cassius called home. Another set of gates and a wall secured his personal property, but he tapped a button on his keychain, and the gate opened before they arrived. The wall couldn’t really keep out a determined wolf, but it did afford him a measure of privacy.
    White thorn acacias interspersed with cactus lined the dirt of his drive. In heavy rain, he couldn’t take the bike out—though rarely did they see heavy rains. The house itself was a sprawling uncluttered structure, with a terrace and open second floor. The adobe reflected the sun and kept the terracotta floors cool. A fountain bubbled in the center of the circular drive as they pulled around it.
    Cassius parked his bike under the carport where his jeep also sat. Leaving the bike, he strode toward the SUV as Faust lowered the window. “Do you think you could get more remote, mate?”
    The southern Irish combination in the other wolf’s accent grated on his nerves. “Yes. We could. Guesthouse.” He pointed to an adobe structure set apart from the main house but connected by a breezeway. “There’s a swimming pool on the other side. You may both use it. Have her shower, then…”
    “She needs rest.” Faust said. “She’s still exhausted.”
    Biting back his temper, Cassius stared at the other wolf until Faust lowered his eyes. Damn straight. “Then when her highness has had time to rest, have her come to the main house so we may talk—and remember, while you are here for her, you don’t have to stay. I am more than capable of protecting her. Mind the insolence.” His tolerance for disrespect from his own wolves was nearly non-existent. The only thing keeping the Hound alive at the moment was Sovvan.
    “As you wish.” It wasn’t respect, but it would do. Since neither the Hound nor Sovvan made a move while he stood there, he pointed to the car port. “Park the SUV there. If we get a sandstorm, we can secure it to protect the vehicles. Supplies will be stocked, but the guesthouse doesn’t have much in the way of a kitchen. You can both take your meals with me.”
    Actually, Sovvan could take her meals with him. As soon as she was settled, he’d find something else for the Hound to do. Leaving them to unpack their vehicle, he strode for his own house. He needed a drink, a shower and his own bed for a few hours—not necessarily in that order.
    The courtyard had been tended, swept clean of any sand and the water burbled merrily in the three-tiered fountain—it had been in a horrible state of disrepair when he’d taken the pack in an Alpha Challenge. Back then, no water ran, and the base had a tremendous crack in it. For three years he’d worked on it—reset the stone, pulled out the cobblestones and reset the pipes—until one day he got it working.
    It had flowed ever since, a hedonistic luxury in the desert—water meant for nothing more than decoration and ambience. Letting himself in, he made it two steps onto the terracotta tiles when a sharp “No ,” greeted him.
    Maria Fuentes marched toward him from the rear kitchens. Her deep black hair, shot through with gray, had been pulled back into a severe bun and her dark eyes narrowed with disapproval. “Out! You do not walk on the freshly swept tile in those…boots.”
    Disgust curled through her every word. Arms akimbo and hands on her hips, she met him glare for glare. Growling, he pivoted and stomped back to the porch and tugged off his boots then the rest of his road dust filthy clothes and left them in a stack. Naked, he re-entered and spread his arms. “Better?”
    “No. You stink like three day dead drunk. Go shower. I will fix you breakfast.” She shuffled around him, not remotely fazed by his state of undress, but why would she be? Though she acted as his housekeeper, Maria had grown up with Cassius in her life. He’d looked after her, saw to her schooling and even attended her wedding. When her children were grown and