command, they went at once, herding the scatter of bystanders back to their rooms.
Magnificent. It was the only word to describe Sam.
“Are you all right?” he demanded.
But unobservant. “I think so?” she replied from underneath the wolf.
Sam snapped his fingers. The creature rose, shaking itself, and gave Sam a dirty look. Chloe felt tingling through her legs as circulation returned. She struggled to sit up. Sam glowered at the beast.
“Is he yours?” she asked.
“Sadly.”
The wolf edged toward Chloe, its tail between its legs. Sam narrowed his eyes. Chloe started to rise, but the wolf leaned into her, burying its head against her shoulder.
“Hey.” Startled, Chloe carefully scratched the wolf’s ears. “You’re a good boy, aren’t you? Such a big, handsome boy. I’m sorry I sprayed you, but you scared me.”
The wolf wagged its tail, and she started to use both hands.
“Heel,” Sam growled.
The wolf gave a start at the sound of Sam’s voice, raising its head from Chloe’s embrace.
“Now.”
The wolf slunk to Sam’s side.
“Why haven’t I seen him before?” Chloe asked.
Sam’s eyes flicked to Chloe’s, then away. “I’ve been keeping him in the garden. I don’t know how he got into the house.”
Chloe heard the lie, but couldn’t make sense of any of it. Her brain was too fogged with fatigue. Too preoccupied with the fact that, if the wolf hadn’t been tame, she might have ended up chow.
Why had Sam left her alone and why had he just lied to her about having a pet? Big, strong and protective was great, but reliable and honest counted for plenty.
He noticed her frown. “Chloe?”
She shrugged, suddenly feeling a lot less forgiving. “It’s dangerous to let your furry friend roam. Something could happen to him.”
The wolf licked his fur and made a gagging sound.
“He’s a big boy. I’ve been thinking of sending him to obedience classes.” Sam offered her his hand.
Chloe took it, letting him pull her to her feet. “That’s all you’re going to say?”
“What else is there?”
“I thought you were guarding my door.”
“I was doing some investigating. I left someone to take my place, but he wandered off without authorization. We’re going to have words. Many words.” He glared at the wolf again.
The hallway was empty now except for the three of them. Sam held her by her upper arms, so close that her robe brushed against him. “Chloe, I’m sorry.”
She could see the darkness in his eyes again, just as it had been during that strangely charged moment in her bedroom. His look was one of possession, fired now by the adrenaline of the moment. He had come to save her—from where, she couldn’t say. The damp scent of the night clung to him, enticing in its mystery.
At that moment she realized that she’d leaned into him. Something about the man drew her like a magnet. She tilted her face up, staring into his steel-gray eyes. The need she saw there made her pulse kick up a notch, beating hard and thick in her throat. Suddenly the terry cloth robe was too hot, suffocating instead of cozy. She had a mad urge to peel it off, and then the nightshirt she wore under it, too. It was a fleeting, silly notion but it still wound through her thoughts, tempting her to give in to the demand implicit in that possessive look. Chloe tightened her belt, fighting an aching need to respond. Blood flooded to her face, chased there by the boldness of her thoughts.
A quiver passed over Sam’s lips, not humor but another more intense emotion she couldn’t read. He brushed the back of his fingers over her cheek, letting them linger there, as if testing the heat of her blush. The touch was cool, yet so light it was no more than the kiss of a wing. The stroke continued, curling around her ear, brushing under her jaw to hover over the pulse beneath her ear. She shivered, nipples suddenly aching. She wanted his cool hands on them. She wanted his wet mouth on them. She wanted him inside her.
In a blink, her whole body was aching and slick with need. This was crazy. She barely knew the man. She scrabbled to pick up the threads of their conversation, to make these insane thoughts disappear beneath the surface of adult conversation. What had he been talking about? Oh, yes.
“Well, did your investigation go anywhere?” Her voice was rough and breathy. She cleared her throat.
He gave her a careful look. “Yes.”
“What did you find out?”
Sam did his best impression of a blank wall. Chloe sighed.
“I’m protecting you,” he said, voice dropping almost to the range of a growl. “Everything I do is to keep you safe.”
“If the dress thief is any indication, ignorance is a lot more dangerous.” She pulled the robe tighter around her throat.
“I’m not sure about that.”
She shrugged, aching, frustrated and tired of playing games. “Oh, forget it. It doesn’t matter.”
She threw the statement down like a dare.
* * *
Sam watched the shrug do lovely things to the sliver of skin showing at the neck of the white robe. She was trying to hide it, but it still showed like an arrow pointing toward more intimate beauties. Her golden hair hung in glistening waves down her back, much longer than it looked pinned up. All that gold and white softness gave her an angelic air, spiced by the strong scent of her desire. Sam’s body tightened, transfixed for a moment by her loveliness, by the promise of pleasure. It was so different from his world of missions and weapons and blood.
He ached with wanting her, a sweet, slow pain filled with yearning and regret. Only part of it was a need of the body. His spirit reached for her, too, somehow knowing that she was a woman who would offer solace and strength. Things War shouldn’t need.
She was a good person, and that was exactly why he had to walk away. They had no business being in each other’s lives.
Then his brain caught up with what she was saying: “It doesn’t matter.” The look in her eyes said clearly it did.
But what could he say? That he’d found a dead body? Chloe didn’t need one more thing to keep her awake tonight, and knowing the security guards had been compromised wouldn’t help one bit. That kind of news could wait until morning.
The moment dragged by like a physical ache. Sam struggled, his instinct to take her then and there warring with the knowledge that whatever might pass between them would end badly. Human women were so sadly vulnerable. He could protect, but he could never have.
Then
