Wolf from the Past: Salvation Pack, Book 4 (4 page)

“This is incredible.” Armand brushed his hand over her hair. “I’m glad you had someone to turn to.”

Sylvie’s stomach roiled. She knew she’d hurt her brother deeply by not turning to him. “I didn’t know you’d broken from the pack or I would have found you sooner.” That was the honest truth. She only hoped Armand would accept it.

He nodded, but his eyes were sad and a muscle in his jaw twitched.

“I waited several weeks for a call.” Every day had seemed to last forever while she’d waited for her aunt to contact her. “When she finally was able to call, she cried.” They’d both cried. Sylvie regretted hurting her family by letting them believe she was dead all this time. “She didn’t have a lot of time to talk, but she told me about this pack, about all of you who’d left. It was because of her that I’m here. She urged me to find you. Told me to come to Salvation.” Sylvie shrugged. “And here I am.”

Jacque pushed away from the table and stood. “I think we could all use a break and time to process all this.” He turned to Louis. “You and Cole need to patrol. We have to make sure no one was watching. The last thing we need is the old man’s spies telling him that Sylvie is back from the dead.”

Fear skated down her spine. It hadn’t even occurred to her that someone might be watching her brother’s new home. “I’m sorry. I didn’t even think my coming here might bring trouble down on you.” And she should have. But she’d been alone for so long that the thought of belonging to a pack, of being with her brother, had been an allure she hadn’t been able to ignore.

Jacque flashed her a quick smile of reassurance. “We already had trouble with them,
chère
. Your coming here doesn’t change that.” He came around the table and she hastily stood, letting the blanket drop. “You’re a part of this pack now. You understand me.”

Sylvie nodded. “Thank you. I promise not to be a burden.”

“You’re a gift to this pack.”

She closed her eyes and savored his words. Her eyes popped open when she felt Jacque brush a kiss on her forehead. “Welcome home, Sylvie.”

Louis came to her next and kissed her forehead in greeting, making sure not to touch any other part of her. “Thank you, Louis.” He grinned and saluted her before heading out the back door.

Cole came next. “Thank you for telling me about my parents.”

“I owe them more than I can ever repay.” Even though her insides were jittery, she was determined to do the right thing. “If there is ever anything I can do for you, all you have to do is ask.”

Cole nodded and followed Louis, stopping only long enough to kiss his mate.

“I know you must have a million questions.” Gwen stopped beside her. “I’ll be at home if you want to talk. I know you must be exhausted and probably want to rest. If you want some company, Armand or one of the others will show you the way to the house.”

“Thank you.” Sylvie was overwhelmed by their kindness and was barely holding things together. Gwen patted her arm and left with Jacque.

Cherise smiled at Sylvie and pointed after Gwen. “I think I’ll head over to the main house with Gwen.” She glanced at Armand. “Give you time to talk.”

Sylvie appreciated the other woman’s kindness. She turned to her brother. “Armand.”

He stood beside her, stiff and unyielding. The scar on his face was whiter than usual, a reminder of all he’d been through in his quest to protect her. He’d feel as though he’d failed her when, in fact, he’d been her touchstone all her life.

“I love you and I’m so grateful you’re alive.”

He hesitated and Sylvie prompted, “But?”

“I’m not ready to talk yet. I need to run.” As much as it hurt her, Sylvie understood. Armand had always been a sensitive soul, and she knew he was hurting. “Get some rest, okay? We’ll talk later.” He dropped a quick kiss on her forehead and left.

Anny hesitated and started after him. “He’ll be fine. He’s really happy you’re alive and here.”

Sylvie watched her brother disappear. Tears pricked her eyes. She’d hurt so many people even though she hadn’t meant to.

“He’ll be fine.” Gator’s voice made her jump. How had she forgotten he was still here? It was the two of them. Alone.

Chapter Four

Gator wanted to punch his best friend in the face. How could Armand just leave Sylvie when it was obvious that she needed reassurance? Armand was the one who was supposed to be good with women, not him.

She looked so lost just standing there. He was practically vibrating with the need to do something, anything. Problem was, he didn’t know what to do. Last thing he wanted was to do something that frightened her.

“You want to lie down?” She had to be emotionally drained after sharing her story with them. He grabbed several plates and carried them into the kitchen just to get some space. She picked up several more and followed him.

“No, I’m too unsettled. I wouldn’t sleep.”

He opened the dishwasher and shoved the plates inside. “Everything will work itself out.” Fuck, now he was spouting platitudes. He couldn’t guarantee anything would work out. None of them could.

He stalked back to the table and grabbed several mugs by the handles. He almost slammed into Sylvie when he turned. She was right behind him. He caught a whiff of sunshine and woman before she sidled past him and started piling dirty plates on top of one another.

Her hair was so fine it didn’t want to stay confined to the braid. Fine wisps were making a halo around her face. “Gator?”

Fuck him. He was standing there like an idiot. He went to the dishwasher and deposited the mugs. Once again, she was right behind him with her load of plates.

“I can do this.” He grabbed the plates from her hands and tried to ignore the subtle way she jerked away before she caught herself. He breathed a sigh of relief when she finally left the dishes to him and gave him some much-needed space.

Better if she was as far away from him as possible. He was too on edge to have her this close. The blood was pumping hard through his veins, all his muscles were coiled for action and his cock was standing upright, more than ready for sex.

He swallowed hard and tried to ignore her while he finished cleaning up from their late lunch. Sylvie went to stand by the window near the dining table. Both cats were sunning themselves in a sunbeam but jumped to their feet and padded away when she approached. She glanced longingly at them, wrapped her arms around herself and peered out through the glass.

Now he felt like a sonofabitch for snapping at her. She’d only been trying to help. It wasn’t her fault that being around her brought out his more animal side.

He sighed and rubbed his hand over his face and prayed for patience. Keeping one eye on her, he finished putting his kitchen to rights. When everything was clean and in its proper place, he went to her.

She ignored him, continuing to stare out into the yard at nothing in particular, or at least nothing he could see.

“I’m sorry.” His quiet apology had her head snapping around. The incredulous look in her eyes made him grin.

She opened her mouth, closed it and opened it again. “For what?”

Maybe he should have kept his mouth shut. Too late for that now. “For snapping at you. I know you only wanted to help.”

Sylvie tilted her head to one side and studied him like he was some foreign species. And maybe he was. His father would never have apologized to his mother for anything. He damn well knew her father and ex-mate never would have either.

All his good intentions went up in smoke. He had to touch her. He couldn’t be this close to her and not. Gator slid his fingers up her bare arm. Her skin was cool and he frowned. Was she still cold? The house was warm and all the windows were wide open to allow the breeze inside. He’d hoped eating would help level out her metabolism.

Her eyes darkened and she swallowed heavily. “Gator?”

“What,
chère
?” Whatever she wanted, whatever she need, he would provide. Fuck, he had it bad. The more he was around her, the more he was attracted.

Yes, he was angry she’d run, that she hadn’t made contact with her brother and come to Armand, to them for help. But, heaven help him, he understood her motives. She’d been protecting her brother, the one person she loved.

Jealousy, raw and ripe, welled up inside him. His wolf began to growl at the thought of another male around her, even if it was her brother.

As if sensing his dark emotions, she took a step away. He simply followed her, not willing to lose the light contact. Just stroking his fingers up and down her arm calmed him.

“Why are you touching me?”

How could he answer her question so he didn’t scare the shit out of her? He wasn’t sure himself why it was so important for him to be near her, to let his skin slide over hers.

Liar
. The voice in the back of his head taunted him. He knew full well why he was touching her. He was marking her as his. For better or worse, he wanted her.

He’d wanted her when they were barely out of their teens. But she’d kept to herself and he’d known her father would never allow her to mate with the likes of him. His family lived on the outskirts of the pack, deep in the swamp. Swamp trash some called them.

He’d wanted her when she’d been mated to Andre Dubois. Gator remembered that day all too well. It was the one and only time in his life he’d been drunk. It wasn’t an easy task for a werewolf to get drunk. Their metabolism ran so fast they burned off the alcohol as quickly as they consumed it. But he’d gotten his hands on some moonshine and downed jug after jug after jug. Things had gotten a bit hazy after that.

And he still wanted her even though she’d run from all of them and hadn’t trusted them to protect her. He was thirty-five, almost thirty-six years old, and he’d never wanted another woman the way he did Sylvie.

At this point in his life, he knew he never would.

His wolf howled in agreement. The crazy animal knew she was his mate and wanted her. But if he weren’t cautious, she’d run again. He knew that all the way to his very bones. And if she disappeared again, Gator wasn’t sure he’d survive.

“Gator?” Once again, he’d been lost in thought and hadn’t answered her question.

“Why am I touching you?” He teased the edge of her blouse, grazing her bare shoulders. She had toned arms, sleek and muscular. “Because I have to.” He trailed them down to her wrist and back up again. “Because I can.”

“But you don’t even like me,” she blurted.

That stopped him cold. Not like her. He’d been obsessed with her for years. “Of course I like you.”

She shook her head. Her dark eyes were serious and she pursed her lips. He wanted to kiss them and make her smile. “Of course you don’t. You’ve always growled at me, never seemed to want me around.”

Gator briefly closed his eyes and prayed for divine guidance. “
Non
,
chère
. I like you too much. I always have.”

Her eyes widened and her cheeks turned a pale rosy shade. She was blushing. She started to look down and away, but he caught her chin with the edge of his hand and raised it. “Never be afraid to look at me.”

She squared her shoulders and faced him head on. “You have an odd way of showing you like me, Gator Rollins.”

There was a light, almost teasing note in her voice. One corner of his mouth kicked up. “I’ve always been a little odd,
chère
.” That made her laugh, and Gator’s chest swelled as the sweet sound rushed over him.

Then she sobered again. “There’s no need for you to be kind. I know I’ve brought trouble here to all of you.” She started to turn away, but he once again moved and blocked her avenue of retreat.

“Kind?
Mon ange
, that’s one thing I’ve never been accused of.” He stepped forward and she took one back. He kept prowling forward until her back hit the wall. “Don’t you know I’m swamp trash. Meaner than a gator.” He placed his palms on either side of her.

“Don’t call yourself that.” Her frown deepened.

“What? Swamp trash?”

She nodded. “I don’t like it.”

“Your daddy did. And so did Pierre. He didn’t like his sons hanging around with swamp trash.” He leaned forward and nuzzled her neck. “And I know damn well your daddy would never have let me anywhere near you.”

“Did you want to be near me?” Her voice was breathy.

Gator brushed a kiss against her temple while desperately trying to ignore his raging hard-on. The muscles in his shoulders and arms tensed until they were shaking. “Oh,
chère
, you have no idea of what I want to do to you.”

Sylvie wasn’t cold anymore. No, she was hot. All over. How could she not be with Gator so close he was almost touching her? Well, he was touching her with his lips. For the first time in what seemed like forever, Sylvie was contemplating what it would feel like to have more than just his lips in contact with her. Her arm still tingled where he’d stroked it.

She swallowed heavily and fought the urge to run. She wanted to stop running and finally start living. And, she admitted to herself, there was a part of her that was soaking up the attention.

It was quite a revelation to find out that Gator liked her. And as much as she wished it wasn’t true, she knew he was right. Her father and uncle would never had allowed him anywhere near her. She’d always been a pawn in her father’s games and knew he’d eventually mate her to someone that would in some way benefit him. She’d just never thought he’d force her to mate with the likes of Andre Dubois.

“Come back,” he whispered against her ear. She shivered as his hot breath skimmed over the outer shell. “Wherever you’ve gone, come back to me.” Gator’s tongue stroked the curve of her ear before he used his teeth to gently tug on the lobe, pulling her back from the past.

Sylvie was hot, yet shivers raced down her spine. Her limbs were heavy and her breasts full. She’d never experienced anything like this in her life. This…this was what desire truly felt like. She licked her lips and bit back a moan when he nibbled at her neck.

He raised his head and stared down at her. She knew she should be frightened out of her mind. Gator was big and strong with broad shoulders and a wide chest. The tattoos that ran down his muscular arms only added to his fierce appearance.

“Touch me.”

She jolted slightly at the command. He was staring at her with those amazing blue eyes of his.

“I want your hands on me,
mon ange
.”

Sylvie licked her lips and Gator groaned. His eyes grew darker and a muscle under his eye began to twitch. Tension thrummed around them, but still he made no move to touch her with more than his lips.

He was putting the power in her hands.

And Sylvie realized she wanted it. She slowly raised her hands and rested them against his chest. He groaned and closed his eyes as if savoring her touch. His skin was almost hot.

She sucked in a deep breath and all she could smell was Gator. She loved his scent and was beginning to associate him with safety. And that just wouldn’t do. It was one thing for them to explore the attraction that sparked between them. It was quite another for her to rely on him for protection. She’d learned the hard way to depend only on herself.

For more than two years, she’d earned her own money and lived to please herself. There was no way she could go back to being dominated by a male werewolf. Yes, she’d missed pack life, felt as though a part of her was missing, but she wasn’t looking to mate. Never again would she give up that kind of control.

“That feels so good.” Gator pressed a kiss to her temple. “Go ahead and explore. Don’t be afraid.”

“I’m not afraid.” She was tired of being scared, of not taking what she wanted. Determined not to let past fears ruin the moment, Sylvie slid her hands up to his shoulders and down his arms. She let her fingers play over his tattoos, teasing the wolf images on his biceps.

“When did you have these done?” she asked. Most werewolves didn’t bother with tattoos. They didn’t show when the person was in their wolf form, and they were already badass and didn’t feel the need to copy what they considered a human custom. She liked them. Gator had always been different from the rest. It was one of the things she’d always admired about him.

“Some years back.” Gator was suddenly tense in a way that had nothing to do with sexual arousal.

Sylvie knew when a man didn’t want to talk about something. That was fine by her. His tattoos were his business. Still, she liked them. She narrowed her eyes and looked more closely. One of the wolves was definitely male. The other was more delicate. Female. Was it a tribute to some female? Maybe one he’d loved and lost.

She didn’t like that idea at all, and neither did her wolf. She shook off the unfamiliar pang of jealousy. What did she care if Gator had shared something special with another woman?

“You’re not mated, are you?” She was appalled she hadn’t thought to ask until now. She pulled her hands away as though his skin burned her.

He caught her hands and placed them back against his chest with his covering them. “
Non
,
chère
. I’m not mated. Never have been. If I were, I wouldn’t be here with you.”

Well, that was certainly blunt enough. But that was Gator. He didn’t pull his punches.

“I would never cheat on my mate.”

She believed him. And for a woman who’d been cheated on, that was a lure. Loyalty was important. And what the hell was she thinking? She wasn’t in the market for any kind of relationship, permanent or temporary. She was here to reforge a relationship with her brother and maybe find a place in this pack.

The last thing she needed to do was get romantically or sexually involved with anyone.

But she’d been alone for so long. A wolf in the human world was an oddity. There was no one she could share her secret with, no one she could trust. The human men didn’t interest her at all. She could smell their deceit and lies a mile away.

Gator slid her palms up and down his chest. “Don’t be afraid to touch me.”

“What are we doing?” This was crazy. She’d only arrived here a matter of hours ago and she’d already kissed Gator, or rather he’d kissed her.

“We’re getting reacquainted.” He brushed a stray strand of hair away from her face and tucked it behind her ear. “Getting to know one another.” She wished she could tell if he was teasing her or if he was serious. She was in way over her head. She didn’t understand the rules of flirting.