Free Winter of the Wolf by Cherise Sinclair Page A

stroled closer. “You’re either up early or you haven’t been to bed. Problems?” The moon behind him left his face in shadow and seemed to make his body bigger than it realy was. His shoulders blotted out an entire mountain range.
    She smothered a gulp. “No. I just couldn’t sleep. Were you at a party over there?” She nodded toward the Wild Hunt.
    When he leaned against the porch post, she relaxed. He’d turned so she could see his face, the curve of his lips, the turned so she could see his face, the curve of his lips, the strong jaw. Not a man-monster stinking of rotting meat; just a powerful man with the soapy fragrance of a recent shower.
    “We went for a while,” he agreed. “Why can’t you sleep?
    Is something wrong with the cabin?”
    She laughed. A true innkeeper. “Not at al. I was listening to the woods, trying to figure out what I’m hearing. Not that I can tel—I’ve never been away from Seattle before.”
    “A city girl. Let’s see if I can help.” He tipped his head to listen, and then pointed toward the road. “There’s a skunk over there.”
    Bree leaned forward. “Where?”
    Shay moved behind her, extending his arm along her line of sight. “By the big patch of snow.”
    A smal black and white animal waddled along the tree line, tail arching in the air. “Oh, it is! I think I saw him before.”
    The chuckle was deep and smooth. “Good eyes, a leannan, he lives around here. This spring, he’l invite a new female to his den each night.” He set a hand on her shoulder and turned her slightly. “A doe is in the brush.” Squinting, she made out a brown shadow and the movement of a head. The deer stepped onto the road and into the moonlight so gracefuly it took her breath away.
    “She’s beautiful.”
    “Yes.” His hand stil rested on her shoulder, very warm,
    “Yes.” His hand stil rested on her shoulder, very warm, very big, and she could feel his breath on her neck, the heat from his body on her back.
    When she tried to edge away, his arm came around her waist, puling her back against a hard chest. “Shhh, look to your right.”
    Her need to escape disappeared when a smal animal—a dog?—trotted across the lodge clearing. Its coat flashed with red in the moonlight. “What is it?”
    “Fox.”
    “Wow.” As the fox disappeared, Bree realized her position. The man’s arm crossed her stomach like an iron bar, and his hand gripped her hip, holding her in place. Her breathing hitched. She puled away, almost surprised when he released her. She retreated a step, and her nervousness dissipated when he didn’t move. She smiled at him. “That was awesome. How do you see them so wel?”
    “Experience.” The corners of his eyes crinkled. “I enjoy sharing my forest.”
    “I don’t know how to thank you.” Maybe she should make him a pie or—
    “A leannan, it’s done like this.” One finger tilted her chin up, and he brushed his lips across hers. Firm yet velvety soft.
    Just the slightest lingering. He’d moved back and stepped completely off the porch before she had a chance to panic.
    He gave her his slow smile. “That’s how a female thanks a He gave her his slow smile. “That’s how a female thanks a male.” He turned and strode away.
    Pressing a hand to her tingling lips, she tried to summon the wilpower to cal him a pompous jerk. She couldn’t. Deep inside her, heat flickered to life—something she’d never felt before.

Chapter Seven
    On Sunday, four nights after the Gathering, Shay walked into the Wild Hunt for the Cosantir’s meeting. The tavern was already noisy with shifters seated at tables and lined along the wals.
    Late . He scowled over his shoulder at Zeb. The antisocial mongrel had staled, hoping Shay would go without him.
    In front of his bar, Calum talked with people at the nearest tables. After nodding at the few people he’d already met, Shay chose an unobtrusive position in the rear. As cahirs, he and Zeb were much larger than other