Terry Spear - A SEAL in Wolf's Clothing

Okay, that was getting a little too domesticated right off the bat. But she did hate vacuuming. And if he liked to vacuum, that would definitely work for her.

As soon as she reached the coast and her rustic redwood cabin, she parked and got out of the car. But something didn’t feel right. The blinds were still closed in the four windows facing the road, and the front door was shut like it should be. Everything seemed in order, but… she could have sworn one of the blinds in her bedroom had moved just a hair.

As wolves, well, part-time wolves anyway, she and her kind could see like wolves could. And catching a glimpse of movement that a human might not notice was one of the perks of being one of the wolf kind. Still, had it been her imagination? Maybe a trick of the pine branches dipping and rising in a graceful dance to the coastal wind’s tune and casting shadows across her bedroom window? As she watched the interplay of light and shadows, she thought that might be the case.

She sniffed the air and smelled the scent of pine trees; the salty, fishy ocean breeze; a hint of sour seaweed; and even the smell of an elk. And , she narrowed her eyes as she shifted her gaze to the north, a cougar . He wasn’t anywhere in sight, but she could smell him a few miles through the woods just the same. It was their territory. Not his.

But then she took another breath and frowned more deeply. Hell, a wolf had left his scent markings in the area. She sampled the air some more. Male. Had to be an alpha, or he wouldn’t have been so bold. Had to be a lupus garou for the same reason. If it was the guy renting the cabin who was due to arrive soon and he’d gotten here early, she’d give him an earful. He was just a visitor unless she decided otherwise. And he had no business marking the territory with his own scent. Talk about having balls.

She looked quickly around. Where was he? There was no sign of a vehicle. No one sitting on the wicker settee on the front porch. No sign of a soul.

The scent markings warned her, though, that an alpha male was claiming this territory. She thought then he must still be running around in the woods in his wolf form. Fine. As soon as he showed up, she’d let him know in no uncertain terms what a mistake he was making.

Meara entered the main cabin that their uncle had given to her and Hunter. Now that her brother had moved into Tessa’s home further down the coast, this place was all Meara’s. But immediately she got a whiff of a male werewolf who had been inside her place. She stood stock still, lifted her nose, and sniffed the air with deeper purpose. A male wolf she didn’t recognize had been in her home. No… the scent seemed vaguely familiar, but… she frowned. Finn Emerson?

No, he wouldn’t be here when Hunter wasn’t.

She glanced around the room, listening more than anything, although she scanned the living area, neat as usual, magazines on the table all about fishing and hunting—the kind of stuff she thought guys might be interested in, although she liked the subjects, too. As a young girl, she had been much more interested in wilderness camping and hiking, playing tug-of-war with the guys, and wrestling with them, than in playing with dolls or shopping with the other females when she grew older.

The bookcase against the wall was filled with knickknacks, photos of the giant sequoia trees that reminded her of home, nature books, and her treasured werewolf romance books by Julia Wildthorn, but nothing appeared out of place. She could hear her heart beating spastically.

She wasn’t easily scared, but her innate wolf sense warned her to be wary. A wolf of a man had invited himself in when she was gone, and the door had been locked.

She swung around to look at the wolf door. He’d marked the territory and then let himself into her house in his wolf form?

Then she reconsidered. Sure, he would have left and returned as a wolf, but if he’d first arrived as a man, he most likely would have used a lockpick.

She thought she heard a couple of footfalls in her bedroom. Her eyes widened and her heartbeat quickened. Great . Her rifle was under the bed, easily retrieved if someone broke into her place when she was sleeping. But right now, it did her no good.

She backed toward the patio door that led to a small stone patio, the cliffside walk to a small beach below, and another walk that wrapped around to the front where her car was parked. Her plan was to make a quick getaway and call the pack for help.

But she backed right into someone solid who hadn’t been there seconds earlier. She screeched and jumped several feet away, whipping around in terror to see one hunk of a male specimen. He was definitely a wolf type, a virile, dark-haired man with almost-amber eyes tinged with green. From the way his casual clothes hugged his chest and biceps, he had a body worth taking a second and third look at. His hair was cut military short, and because of his rugged appearance and the way he had moved so stealthily, he reminded Meara of Hunter’s SEAL team members.

But he wasn’t anyone she knew. And he didn’t have the same scent as the other male wolf she’d smelled.

The stranger’s lips curved up slightly, capturing her attention.

“Hey,” he said in a deeply persuasive voice, putting his hands up to show he was unarmed. His wolfish gaze raked over her in an admiring manner that told her he was already interested in her. “Didn’t mean to startle you, but the sign outside said this was the office, and I’ve got a cabin reserved for a week. Unless I’ve got the wrong place. I’m Joe Matheson.” He lowered his hands slowly, as if to prove he wasn’t going to harm her, and stretched his right hand out to shake hers.

Even though she’d heard him say the words she’d wanted to hear and the notion was finally sinking in that he was supposed to be here and was the first of the male guests scheduled to arrive, she couldn’t shake the sudden chill she felt in her bones. Because?

She glanced back in the direction of her bedroom down the hall. She’d thought she heard footfalls in her bedroom. But now she imagined that had just been the sound of the ocean and the wind in the trees. After moving here from the redwoods in California, she didn’t think she’d ever get used to how the Oregon coast sounded.

Except…

She lifted her nose and smelled. The faint scent of another male wolf still lingered in the air. She didn’t think Finn Emerson would come here while Hunter was away and then stay , but she wondered: had he, and if so, why?

Meara couldn’t help feeling annoyed whenever Finn showed up, knowing he meant to convince Hunter to go on another dangerous mission with him. She wasn’t convinced that he was the wolf who had entered her home without permission earlier, but that didn’t matter. Any thought of Finn instantly made her hackles rise.

She looked down at Joe Matheson’s outstretched hand and then, not entirely free of her concern about the presence of another wolf, she offered her own. “Meara Greymere” she said, smiling. “I was expecting you. I was going to fix a drink and something to eat. Would you care to join me, Mr. Matheson? And then I can show you to your cabin.”

She wanted to ask her guest to accompany her down the hall to see who the intruder was, if he was still here and hadn’t climbed out her window, but she had to do it covertly without alerting him.

“Call me Joe, if you don’t mind. I’m on vacation. I don’t want to be a bother, but I flew in from North Carolina, and you know how they don’t feed you on many flights these days. Pretzels, if you’re lucky. And they don’t sustain a body for long.”