Solace in Scandal. Kimberly Dean
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Jerking away from the window, she walked about the house. The mug cooled in her hands as she considered her options. There weren’t many. She found herself in the doorway to her office. Piles of paper were strewn about, notes were taped to the walls, and her laptop waited for power. She was so close to making a breakthrough, she could feel it.
Yet it was all so close to slipping through her fingers.
She rolled her tight neck. Alex Wolfe had ruined everything.
She slammed the mug down on the coffee table, pivoted on her heel and headed to the door. She’d found a sanctuary, but all she wanted to do right now was run.
‘Damn that man,’ she hissed.
Why did some people have it so easy, while others had to plod and fight?
Moving past the dock, she headed for the trail that rounded the far side of the lake. She’d taken it several times over the past few weeks. The silence and the remoteness might help calm her down, especially the remoteness.
She couldn’t shake the feel of him watching her.
The air was thick as she settled into a brisk hiking pace. There really was no air stirring today. The leaves weren’t rustling and the lake wasn’t lapping against the shore. It created an odd combination of serenity and foreboding. The mist in the air gathered around her, and it was only then that she realised she’d forgotten to put on a jacket. She wrapped her arms around herself and kept on going. The trees had closed in behind her and she could no longer see the manor bearing over her. Its overwhelming presence had disappeared.
With it, some of the tension left her shoulders.
Leaves crackled under her feet as she walked along the well-worn path, but even that noise was muted. The dampness coated the undergrowth, too. Lifting her chin, Elena inhaled the moist coolness. It was like a different world out here, and all of it was Wolfe property.
Maybe they really could avoid each other. The plot of land was huge, even for the wealthy who lived in this part of the state. Celebrities and politicians, writers and music-makers were all neighbours in this upscale New York county.
What must it be like to have that kind of wealth? To be able to live in a place that pushed the rest of the world away?
Who would risk all of this to take more?
She shook her head. Maybe she could hide away here for a little longer, at least until she had some answers and finished her dissertation. In the end, that was what was most important, her education. Her life plan. She doubted she’d ever be wealthy like this, but she needed to be able to support herself.
She ran a hand through her hair and found it heavy with dew. Out here, things seemed clearer. Calmer. Yes, she could do it. She needed to hunker down anyway. She’d dive into her work and ignore whoever or whatever was happening up at the main house. It didn’t concern her anyway.
At least, that was what she kept telling the reporters.
Movement suddenly caught her eye, cutting her thoughts short. She stopped in her tracks, all her attention focusing on her surroundings.
Had that been a deer?
She peered through the openings in the trees. The leaves that still clung to the bushes made it difficult to see. With the dreary day, everything was blending. After a few hopeful moments, she decided she’d missed the sighting and continued.
That was when she heard the rustling on the path ahead of her.
Or was it further up the hill?
She stopped again and tried to quiet her breaths. One thing was for certain, she wasn’t alone in the forest.
Listening hard, she picked up the gentle crunch of leaves and twigs against the softened earth. Her gazed darted around the area until she saw a figure moving through the trees. It wasn’t a deer. It was walking upright along what must be another path, higher on the hill. A man.
Her breath caught in her throat.
Someone was stalking around the property and, from the way he moved, he was up to no good. For a moment, he stepped into a space where the branches were bare and she could see him more clearly. He wore a fleece jacket with the hood pulled up over his head. His feet were swift and sure as he moved along the path with hardly any sound.
Elena took a step back.
Someone was trespassing. A photographer? A journalist? Something worse?
Her heart began racing.
Quickly, she evaluated her options. He hadn’t seen her yet, or at least she didn’t think so. She looked down at herself. At least she wasn’t wearing bright colours. She rubbed her hands over her arms. Goosebumps dotted every patch of exposed skin, and a shiver ran down her spine. She glanced back along the path. She could go back the way she’d come, but she was on the main hiking trail around the lake. If others were sneaking around in these woods, she might run into them.
Her teeth worried her lower lip. There was a fishing spot down on the shore not far from where she was. From there, another trail ran along the edge of the lake. She could move quickly there. It was the shortest path back to the cabin.
She watched the figure and the silent way it moved until the grey sweatshirt blended in again with the fog. Keeping her steps quiet and her breaths quieter, she took the fork in the path that would take her away from him. Only the way was slick. She slipped once and had to catch a sapling to keep from falling. By the time she made it to the clearing along the lake, her legs were quivering.
She stepped over a fallen log and bent at the waist to take a steadying breath.
It choked off in her throat when she realised she wasn’t alone.
The man with the hood stood lakeside with his back to her. As she watched, he side-armed a rock over the surface. It skipped three times before sinking into the dark depths.
Elena took a cautious step back and then another. She’d just about made her escape into the trees when the heel of her boot knocked against the fallen log. She tensed as the man turned.
And she found herself looking into Alex Wolfe’s silver-grey eyes.
She sucked in a surprised ‘Oh!’ but then her mouth snapped shut. Fight or flight? The question struck her like a blow on the chest, but she found she could do neither. Instead, her heart beat like a drum-roll as she stared into the face of the man she’d sworn to avoid.
She waited for him to say something, but he watched her as warily as she watched him. He was taller and bigger than her, by nearly a foot and way too many pounds, all of them muscle. He had the fleece zipped close, and it emphasised the lean mass of his body.
Elena’s mouth went dry. He was an impressive figure, yet nothing could have prepared her for the astuteness in those silver-grey eyes. It was like looking into the eyes of an actual wolf.
A hungry, sexual wolf.
Her entire body gave one delicious pulse. There was so much to see in those eyes. Hunger, anger, determination