Free Call of the Wolf by Madelaine Montague Page B

up with the one female that felt ‘just right.'
    He certainly hadn't had any expectations when Beth had sent him to invite Abby to join them for supper, despite her broad hints that he was going to find Ms. Winthrope a ‘surprise.’ From the time he'd learned that they'd found a replacement for poor old Ms. Mortimer, and heard the name Abigail Winthrope, he'd pictured her as a younger version of Ms. Mortimer, and it wasn't an image that held any appeal for him. He had wondered if she was Wolfen, or even Were, mostly because he was concerned about the likelihood that she wasn't and the problems that could arise out of that when the vast majority of Ajax's residents were one or the other.
    It wasn't a problem ordinarily. The humans among them knew about the Wolfen community and the two managed to muddle along together reasonably well, but it became a problem whenever someone new moved into the area that was human. Everybody had to step warily until they'd had time to get to know the newcomer and determine whether or not they could be trusted with the knowledge that most of their neighbors were either Wolfen or Were. Once they reached that point, they either came to an understanding, or the newcomer moved on.
    He'd known, long before he reached the corner and set eyes on her that Abby was human. He'd smelled the emotional upheaval—threads of anger and fear. He'd even known that her scent was teasing his libido in a wholly unexpected and unwelcome way. What his senses hadn't told him was what to expect when he'd rounded the corner just in time to see her bend over and plant the grill in the yard. The low riding jeans had slipped lower still and given him a glimpse of a three quarter moon rising above Venus and he'd known instantly that those luscious globes didn't belong to any lanky, middle-aged female even before she turned and stalked back onto the porch. The mesmerizing bounce and sway of her high, full breasts had completed his descent into catatonia. He didn't think he'd even breathed until she flounced up the steps and briefly disappeared from his view.
    He supposed, wryly, that that was why she hadn't noticed him. Aside from her preoccupation, he'd been standing as stock-still as if he'd been turned into a pillar of salt.
    Actually, he amended, although he hadn't realized it at the time, his wolf had gone into full alert, frozen to absolute stillness as his instincts took over, assessing his quarry by expanding his senses to optimum awareness. The tantalizing scent that had first teased him filled his nostrils and lungs like an opiate, trailing fire and drunkenness. His ears pricked, picking up the soft sigh of her breath—rapid now with anger but easily imagined as breathless with passion. And when she'd bounced down the steps again, his keen eyesight, sharpened with hunger, hadn't missed the opportunity for a thorough examination of the prize that had his mouth watering with anticipation.
    From the bouncing, glossy locks of dark auburn hair around her shoulders to her dainty feet, everything he saw made the want pounding in his skull surge a little harder. His instincts had every muscle in his body taut, gathering to pounce, when the nearly overpowering smell of fuel knocked him to his senses. Completely baffled by his scrambled wits, he'd merely stared at her while she emptied the can of lighter fluid on the coals, not really registering the grim determination of her set features until she pulled out a box of matches. He wasn't sure he would've been able to fully gather his wits, then, if his instincts hadn't suddenly shifted from the need to stake his claim on her to the need to protect her. Charcoal, plus a full can of lighter fluid, and a lit match had abruptly equaled explosive combustion, however.
    He shook his head at the memory. The woman had a temper. He still wasn't completely certain what had brought on her tantrum, but he'd begun to suspect it was pure out rebellion. The Feds had pushed her into a