Sara wasn’t sure who moved first, but she was suddenly engulfed in Jason’s strong embrace.
His mouth came down on hers, softly at first, then picking up a heat and fierceness and intensity that she felt helpless to do anything about but respond in kind.
No. She never felt helpless. This was exactly what she wanted, precisely where she wanted to be: in Jason’s strong, sexy embrace. Kissing him as if there was nothing, no one, in the world but them.
But as her hands raced under his clothes and up his back to clutch his heated flesh, she heard, in the distance, the sound of conversation.
“I—I’m sorry,” she gasped. “This wasn’t right.”
“Oh, I’d say it was very right,” Jason muttered.
LINDA O. JOHNSTON loves to write. More than one genre at a time? That’s part of the fun. While honing her writing skills, she started working in advertising and public relations, then became a lawyer … and still enjoys writing contracts. Linda’s first published fiction novel appeared in Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine and won a Robert L. Fish Memorial Award for Best First Mystery Short Story of the Year. It was the beginning of her versatile fiction-writing career. Linda now spends most of her time creating memorable tales of paranormal romance and mystery.
Linda lives in the Hollywood Hills with her husband and two Cavalier King Charles spaniels. Visit her at her website, www.lindaojohnston.com.
Untamed Wolf
Linda O. Johnston
Untamed Wolf is dedicated to wolves, real and shape-shifters. It’s also dedicated to our military, covert and otherwise. It’s dedicated to Maryland, including the Eastern Shore and the area south of Baltimore, where we visit often. Plus, it’s dedicated to my friends and my readers … and, of course, to my husband, Fred.
And it’s especially dedicated to Mills & Boon and the Nocturne series, its editors and most particularly my wonderful editor Allison Lyons. And last but definitely not least, it’s dedicated to my excellent agent, Paige Wheeler of Folio Literary Management.
Contents
Chapter 1
Sara pulled her car up to the formidable black wrought-iron gate at Ft. Lukman. She had been driving her small hybrid for more than an hour from D.C. to this out-of-the-way military installation on Maryland’s Eastern Shore.
Stopping at the security kiosk, she pulled her ID from the purse on the passenger seat. “Lieutenant Sara McLinder, reporting for duty,” she told the guard, a tall man, wearing a standard camouflage uniform similar to the one Sara had on.
So far, nothing here looked different or surprising, no matter what Sara’s superior officer, General Greg Yarrow, had suggested. Of course not.
Even so, maybe she should have waited until tomorrow, as the general had said. It was early evening already, and she wouldn’t have much time to get settled.
On the other hand, it hadn’t been an order, and Sara didn’t like to delay. Facing new situations quickly and immediately was more to her liking than waiting.
“Is General Yarrow behind you, ma’am?” asked the soldier.
“The general will be here tomorrow,” she said.
“Very good, ma’am.” He looked over her identification and passed it back. “Everything looks in order. Welcome to Ft. Lukman, Lieutenant.” The private saluted and the gate slid open, away from the car.
Sara saluted back. “Thank you,” she said, then drove onto the base.
The general had provided her the layout in advance. She knew that the building comprising the Bachelor Officers’ Quarters where she was to stay was to the right once she entered the base. That was where she headed.
