Rhyannon Byrd - Dark Wolf Rising

“It’s all gone now,” she murmured, taking pity on him. “You’re clear.”

He grunted something foul under his breath, then stepped closer and placed one hand over the window ledge, curving his long fingers over the door frame, as if he could keep her in place with that simple touch. “Where will you go?”

“ That’s none of your business,” she said quietly, staring at those dark fingers, imagining them on her body…against her skin. Shaking herself, she set the gun on the passenger’s seat, then turned the key in the ignition…but nothing happened. Just a sad, pathetic wail of sound from the engine, followed by a rapid clicking noise. Gritting her teeth, she turned the key again…and again, but with the same results.

Shit .

Without looking at him, Chelsea lowered her head to the steering wheel and prayed for patience. Nothing, not a single goddamn thing, had gone her way from the moment she’d started this miserable search. Why? She was trying so hard to do what was right, damn it—trying to help her sister…to get her out of what could potentially be a dangerous situation, especially after the girl at the club had said that Perry wasn’t looking too good. So why this? Why was karma, fate or whatever the hell it was that controlled her destiny giving her a kick in the ass with every step she took?

It wasn’t like her to be whiney, but she’d lost her sense of optimism so long ago, Chelsea no longer even knew what it felt like. Now all she had was this grinding, sickening feeling in her gut, and a bad case of nerves. Not to mention the sudden addition of ill-founded lust for the gorgeous jerk trying to get rid of her.

Talk about crappy timing.

Forcing herself to lift her head, she gave the dark-haired stranger a closed, expressionless look. “I don’t suppose you could give me a jump start?”

He shook his head, looking as frustrated as she felt. “The problem isn’t your battery.”

“How do you know?”

“Because that clicking sound means it’s your starter.”

“Shit,” she said for the second time, only this time out loud.

He muttered something rough under his breath again, then jerked his chin toward his truck. “Come on. I’ll give you a ride down to Wesley.”

She wanted to say, “Are you crazy? What kind of idiot do you think I am, getting into a car with some guy I don’t even know?”

But the words stuck in her throat. Her options were more than a little limited here. The idea of staying in the woods had been scary enough when the opportunity for retreat had been available, but to be stuck out here in a broken-down car didn’t strike her as smart, even though she had a gun. Then again, neither did driving off with Mr. Tall, Dark and Deadly Gorgeous. But if he was going to hurt her, he could have already done it. Right? The other two men, who were still waiting over by his truck, clearly submitted to his authority, as if he were some kind of superior they deferred to. She had the feeling that if he’d attacked, they’d have done nothing to stop him.

Which meant…what? Was she actually trying to talk herself into taking him up on his offer? She didn’t have enough money for a motel room, but she’d figure something out. She always did, one way or another.

As if sensing her disquieting inner conflict, he wiped the scowl off his face and let go of her door, that warm, male scent pulsing off him the most interesting thing she’d ever smelled. “It’s okay,” he said in a low voice. “I won’t hurt you. Just a ride into town, to a motel, and then I’ll have your bus delivered to you in the morning.”

“How can I get it fixed if I leave it here?” Not that she had the money to get it fixed, but he didn’t need to know that. “Can’t we just tow it behind us?”

“I’m going to call some mechanics I know and have them work on it here,” he explained as if it was the simplest thing in the world to do. “They’ll have it in running order by morning.”

Wrapping her arms around her middle, she asked, “Why would you do that?”

“Consider it a fair exchange for the fact that I’m kicking you out of here,” he offered with a strained smile. He clearly wasn’t any happier about the situation than she was, and yet, he seemed determined to help her.

She didn’t agree or disagree. She simply said, “It isn’t smart.”

A deep, almost silent rumble of laughter vibrated in his chest, and he arched one of those damn black brows again. “Neither was camping out in your car in the woods all alone.”

“But at least I had a good reason for that .”

He could have argued that she had a good reason for taking him up on his offer, as well. But he didn’t. He just stared at her, the silver metallic of his eyes mesmerizing, like the liquid swirl of mercury in a vial—making her feel as if he could see right past her sarcastic bravado, down to the real woman huddling inside her skin. The one who was scared and tired and pushed to the edge of her limits. His cool air of command made Chelsea want to slap him, just as badly as she wanted to press her lips against that hard, utterly masculine mouth and find out if he tasted even half as good as he looked and smelled.

Pulling her lower lip through her teeth, she finally said, “If I accept, it doesn’t mean that I owe you anything.”

Instead of agreeing, he simply gave her a charmingly crooked grin that made her body react with ridiculous ease. “My name is Eric, by the way. Eric Drake. And you would be…?”

“Chelsea Smart.”

He started to laugh under his breath, as if there was something funny about her name, but choked it off when he caught her glare.

“So, what’s it gonna be, Chelsea?” He stepped back from the bus, shoved his hands deep in his pockets again and lifted his shoulders. “Will you trust me?”

The question was offered casually, and yet, she had the strangest feeling that her answer was somehow important to him. Which was crazy, seeing as how she’d never been all that important to anyone before, much less to a gorgeous man who didn’t even know her.

What was it going to be?

She was acutely aware of each second passing slowly into the next…of each breath that expanded her lungs…each hard, powerful beat of her heart that shuddered through her body.

Then she did something that she never did, and opened her door, putting her trust in another person. And not just any person.

No, for the first time in what felt like forever, Chelsea put her trust in the hands of a man.

By the time Eric pulled onto the gloomy, rain-sodden streets of downtown Wesley, he’d managed to learn a bit more about the human than just her name and the fact that she had a prickly attitude. She was twenty-six years old, had just bought her first condo and taught Women’s Studies at a private university in Smythe, Virginia. He’d also learned that she had spent the past few weeks searching for her younger sister, a nineteen-year-old named Perry, who also lived in Smythe…and whose party-girl lifestyle and recreational drug use had a habit of landing her in a variety of unsavory situations.

According to her roommates, Perry had suddenly disappeared a month ago, after hooking up with an amazingly hot guy at a weekend party. He’d fed her some bullshit story about how he really cared about her, but that his life was just too dangerous for a girl like her, and then skipped out. But Perry wasn’t willing to give him up. After asking around about him, she’d learned he was heading to another party in a neighboring county, and she’d set off after him, determined to track him down. Then she hadn’t come back.

When a few days had gone by and her roommates hadn’t heard from her, they got in touch with Chelsea, claiming they were worried about their impulsive, risk-taking friend. Chelsea had been worried, too, while waiting for word from her sister…or a sign that she was okay and on her way back home. When her phone messages on Perry’s cell went unanswered for over a week, Chelsea left Smythe and followed Perry’s sloppy trail from one college party or nightclub to another, until her search eventually led to a strip joint right there in Wesley called Heaven and Hell.