Bayou Wolf. Debbie Herbert

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Bayou Wolf - Debbie Herbert Mills & Boon Nocturne

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upon a mauled, human carcass.

      Poor Jeb. First, the fire last year that had destroyed most of his cotton crop and damn near bankrupted him. And now...this.

      “Eli and I are joining the others,” the leader said. “Wait for the cops and keep an eye on our guest.”

      “I don’t need anyone to watch over me,” she muttered.

      Payton nodded. “I will, Matt.”

      The door banged shut as Eli and Matt left.

      “You don’t have to babysit me. I’m fine.”

      A ripple of apprehension roiled in her stomach. Maybe they weren’t concerned for her safety at all. Maybe there was something more sinister at play. They seemed in an awful hurry to find the body before the cops.

      “Right. You’re fine. That’s why you’re shaking like a deer staring at the long end of a shotgun.”

      He sat beside her and rubbed her shoulder. She drew a steadying breath. Be smart. Could be Payton was ordered to watch her for damage control. Make sure she didn’t catch them hiding the body or altering the scene.

      “You had a traumatic experience this morning,” he said, continuing to massage her shoulders and neck. “Anyone would be shaken. Don’t act like you aren’t.”

      Tallulah inched away from his touch. She was many things, but a fool she was not. For all she knew, Payton was as untrustworthy as the rest of the timber crew. Just because his kisses curled her toes the night before was no reason to let down her guard.

      “Don’t patronize me,” she snapped. “I’m not the swooning Southern-belle type. I can handle emergencies with logic and calm.”

      Payton’s mouth twisted and he rose from the sofa and paced. Probably stifling the urge to throttle her.

      “Go on and join the others. You know you’re dying to check it out. I can take care of myself.”

      Tallulah glanced around the den that seethed with masculinity—a pool table, large-screen TV, a wet bar, leather furniture and not a knickknack or potted plant in sight. If Payton went outside, she could do a little exploring. There was something very strange about this group of guys, although she couldn’t precisely say what. Their house had a different feel from other homes. A secretive vibe. But perhaps she judged unfairly, her view tainted by seeing the wolf enter. The one no one claimed to have seen—including Payton. Maybe she could convince him to leave so she could snoop around the place and call Sheriff Angier. Tell Payton she needed some alone time to recover from the ordeal of finding the body.

      He ceased pacing and faced her abruptly. “Do you always have to act so damn defensive about everything?”

      Her spine stiffened. “That’s not true,” she began, her voice hot and loud. She clamped her jaw shut. She’d just proved the opposite.

      “It is true. You take offence at anything I say.”

      Tallulah silently counted to ten. She’d get nowhere antagonizing him. And perhaps he did have a point. Payton certainly wouldn’t be the first to say that her personality had become a tad bitter over the past couple of years.

      “I apologize. You’re right. Seeing Jeb’s mauled body did bother me and I took it out on you.”

      Payton’s anger instantly abated. “It’s okay.”

      “I think I interrupted your morning shower. Why don’t you go ahead and finish?”

      He hesitated. “Are you sure? Can I get you anything first?”

      “I wouldn’t mind a cup of coffee,” she said sweetly. “Might calm my nerves.”

      “Sure. Sugar or cream?”

      “Both.”

      “Done. Then I’m going back upstairs to finish dressing so I’ll be decent when the cops bombard the place.”

      “Had experience with this sort of thing before?” she asked, unable to help herself. “With cops, that is.”

      His eyes shuttered. “Hmm.”

      Without explaining, he disappeared in the kitchen. She kept her ears tuned as he rumbled about for a cup, poured and stirred. She picked up a cell phone that was on the coffee table.

      Damn. This one required a password to make a call. She reached and tried another abandoned phone on the end table. Oh, yes, this one was password-free. It would do nicely.

      At the sound of footsteps, she stuffed the phone under the sofa cushion.

      “One coffee coming up,” Payton announced.

      He held out a steaming, earthenware mug and she clasped both hands around the smooth pottery. Despite the appalling circumstances, the warmth in her palms spread up her arms and into her heart. There were few caring gestures in her life. Not since Bo...well, no point thinking of him now. He’d left her behind and she was alone again. Most of the time, she’d learn to accept she was on her own. Until an act of kindness, however small, undid her.

      Oh, hell, not tears. Quickly, Tallulah hung her head, allowing her long hair to drape her profile on either side. She sipped the coffee and discreetely swiped the wetness from her cheeks.

      “Hey, are you crying?” Payton sat beside her on the sofa.

      “Of course not.” She carefully set the mug on an end table and faked a little cough. “Swallowed the wrong way. Go ahead and get dressed.”

      He looked doubtful, but she shooed him along with a wave of her hand. “A few minutes alone will do me good.”

      “If you say so.”

      With one last pat on her shoulder, Payton rose and tromped up the stairs. Tallulah unearthed the phone from beneath the cushion and punched in a familiar number.

      “Yes, hello,” she said, careful to keep her voice low. “I need to speak with Sheriff Angier. It’s an emergency.”

      * * *

      It was happening all over again, Payton thought.

      He tried to make excuses as he shrugged into a T-shirt and pulled on socks and sneakers—a dead body didn’t necessarily mean murder. There could be a natural cause. The bayou was teeming with rattlesnakes and water moccasins. Maybe even alligators? He wasn’t sure if they were far south enough for gators; he’d have to ask Tallulah about that.

      Yes, but the body had been found on their property. It was Montana all over again. Questions whirled through his brain in a storm of dread. He’d been so concerned over Tallulah; he hadn’t asked for details. Now he desperately needed to know everything, needed to come up with a rational explanation for what had happened. An explanation that had nothing to do with one of their own.

      Satisfied he was presentable, Payton returned downstairs.

      Tallulah was a blur of motion. A hand swept down her side as she stood and faced him. Had she dropped something? She ran a hand through her hair and gave

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