Terry Spear - A SEAL in Wolf's Clothing

She wiped away more tears and smiled at Rourke. “Thanks for learning the truth, and…” She choked on the words and gave him another hug. She was still hugging him soundly, so grateful he was alive, that she didn’t even hear Finn come into the room.

But Rourke saw him and immediately rose, as if getting ready for a new confrontation.

“Where’s the evidence, Rourke?” Finn asked, fully dressed and looking relieved that Rourke was alive but angry about Chris and his evil doings.

The papers. She’d forgotten all about them. Rourke licked her hand, then hurried out of the bedroom and down the hall to the living room. She suspected he couldn’t shift back.

He poked a paw at the couch, and Finn shoved his hand between the cushions and pulled out a handful of evidence—plane ticket, tarot cards, photo, financial statements. He handed them to Meara, but she shook her head. “Let Hunter see them.”

Then with new worry, she ground her teeth. “Hunter.”

“They’re fine.” Finn pulled his phone out of his pocket and handed it to her. “Hunter said two men hit them at the house, but everyone’s fine. Except for the two men. And the house.”

“What happened to the house?”

“The two men were demolition experts. They blew it up.”

Meara gaped at Finn.

“Of course, Hunter’s more than furious that Chris was involved. He and the others are driving up here—all but Bjornolf—and Hunter will take it from there.”

“Bjornolf had already left, I thought.”

“Apparently not. He hung around to make sure the guys didn’t need his help. And then he heard there was a runaway teen in the pack and he wanted to look into the kid’s disappearance.”

Meara’s mouth gaped again. “Bjornolf?”

“Don’t start getting ideas that he’s a nice guy, Meara.” Finn pulled her into his arms and kissed her cheek. “If you were afraid Rourke was going to have a time finding a mate, after they learn what he did here today, the unmated females will be flocking to him, wanting a chance to be that mate.”

Rourke grinned with a silly, wolfish smile. Meara gave him a small, weepy smile back. Now she knew why Tessa had a fondness for the man who was now a wolf. He truly was a welcome addition to the pack.

Finn and Meara returned to her place and discussed all that Chris and Cyn had been responsible for—the fire that had destroyed their homes, the mutiny Chris had encouraged, the murders of innocent victims—all so Chris could be a pack leader when he didn’t have the courage to fight Hunter wolf to wolf for the position. And so Cyn could pocket a bundle of blood money.

Meara continued to obsess about all that had happened as they entered her home. “The safe house was demolished,” she said, shaking her head. “What will the owners say?”

Finn ushered her into her living room, sat her down on the couch, and pulled a throw she had hanging over the arm of the couch onto her lap. Then he went into the kitchen and began making her a mug of mint tea. “The owners will say that the home can be rebuilt. That none of us could have been replaced. Nothing else really matters, you know.”

“They won’t care anything about us, except to be furious that we brought this down on them,” Meara moaned. “Even if insurance covered it, which I highly doubt, the home would still need to be rebuilt.”

“I’ll just sell off the property. The location and land will still bring a good deal of money. Prime oceanfront property, worth a mint.”

“You? You said it was owned by a friend of a friend of a friend.”

“That’s how I had to buy it to keep the ownership hidden so we could use it as a safe house.”

“It was your home? You mean, here I made the remark about whoever the owner was must have decorated in all yellow to chase away the Oregon gloom, and all along it was your home?”

He carried out a cup of hot tea for her and tucked a straggle of hair behind her ear. “And I said the owner must be from California. To which you looked to the ceiling as if unable to believe I would say such a thing because you are from northern California. But it was my interior decorator’s idea. She’s from southern California like me and said yellow would help brighten the place.”

Her lips parted, then she frowned. “That’s why you knew where the brandy was located. And the master bedroom. It was yours.”

“Ours. Was ours.”

“Who was staying there before we arrived?”

“A Navy SEAL and his new bride—I reimbursed them sufficiently so that they were able to pay for an island adventure.”

“Your poor home.” Then she managed a smile with a gleam in her eyes. “So just how much will the land be worth if you sell off the property?”

Two days later, confident the pack would be secure without his being there, Hunter returned to Hawaii to be with Tessa while Finn and Meara settled into her house before they took off on their own honeymoon. Allan, Paul, and Anna had left for places unknown. And Bjornolf had run down the runaway teen. Seemed the runaway had wanted to start his own wolf pack—teen only—but couldn’t get any takers. Bjornolf had talked him into SEAL training when he was old enough. Bjornolf was now taking a break somewhere in the South Pacific, or so he said. But for all they knew, Bjornolf could be lurking just down the road.

Rourke was the hero of the pack, and at least three of the females had taken notice of him. They all wanted to mentor him, and he didn’t mind being mentored any longer in the least.

All that was left was a Caribbean cruise that Meara and Finn would take when Hunter and Tessa returned, only they’d extended their trip to three weeks instead of two. That left Meara and Finn exploring the coast close to home and each other.

After a brisk swim in the Pacific, Meara and Finn returned to the house for a hot shower. Meara was glad that Hunter had always watched out for her and that she hadn’t ended up with the wrong wolf before Finn showed up to steal her heart.

She hadn’t thought of showering with Finn, given the economical ones he always took, quick and over with in no time, and although she didn’t like to waste water, she enjoyed the heat and steam or a simulated rain shower for a relaxing time. Water-tile body sprays in the wall provided an adjustable massage, working wonders on taut muscles, too.

But once she headed for the glassed-in shower stall, Finn walked into the bathroom to join her. Admiringly, she slid her gaze over his sculpted nude body, his skin salty from the sea just like a SEAL’s should be.

“What happened to taking a brief shower?” she asked, hoping that he didn’t think she would want to do the same.

“Hmm,” Finn said, “I like to conserve water, and sharing a shower with you sounds like a good deal.”

She smiled and switched on the digital interface, mixing water, light, and sound into a pleasing symphony of pleasurable sensations, and then stepped into the shower. “But,” she warned him, “I don’t believe in turning off the water while I’m soaping my body.”

Finn entered the stall and pulled the door closed, then gathered her into his arms under the heat of the running water and kissed her upturned face. “I’ll be the one soaping that gorgeous body of yours. And the water stays on.”

Releasing her briefly while she shampooed her hair, he poured vanilla-scented body wash into his hands and began a careful and methodical soaping ritual. His large hands started at her throat, spreading the scented wash all around her neck, down her shoulders and breasts, pausing to lift and massage. Then he worked in tiny circles over and around her nipples while she made a mountain of soapy curls on top of her head and chuckled at the diligence he showed in making sure her breasts were thoroughly cleaned.