Part 41 (2/2)

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Top Anne had dozed off when Merrick woke her. He crawled into her bedroll naked. She had begun to fear he wouldn't return. She'd checked the horses tethered in a nearby meadow often to make sure the stallion still grazed alongside her mare. Anne had eaten, cleaned their camp, done all she could think to do to bide her time; then she'd become sleepy without anything to distract her.

”Anne,” he breathed, pulling her close to him. She went willingly, snuggling into his warmth. His hair was damp. He'd obviously found a stream to bathe in, and she longed to do the same. She'd cleaned up as best she could earlier with water from their flasks.

”Do you know your scent travels through the forest and finds me no matter how far away I go?” he asked, nipping gently at her throat. ”Your scent will always call me back to you. I cannot resist it.”

Her hands traveled over him as if she had no will over them. Could she and Merrick have been dreaming last night? Could two people, joined in body, in soul and heart, share the same nightmare?

More than anything, Anne wanted to believe they could, that they in fact had. Her hands, moving over his warm, muscled flesh, told her he was only a man. He pressed against her and she felt his readiness for her. Her pulses leaped. Anne closed her eyes and refused to think about what had happened last night. Behind closed lids, she wouldn't see if his own eyes were glowing blue in the darkness. ”Kiss me,” she whispered.

He did, very gently, which nearly broke her heart. His body shook with his need of her, and yet his lips were tender. She knew in that instant that she should never fear him. No matter if they had shared a nightmare or if the nightmare had been real, Merrick did not have it in his heart to hurt her. Whoever he was, whatever he was, she loved him.

Her hands crept into his hair and she slanted her mouth beneath his, opened wider, and invited him to invade. He did. Tenderness burned away beneath the rise of scorching pa.s.sion. Suddenly he was pulling at her clothes, and she did all she could to aid him. Their breaths grew ragged between kisses. His hands moved over her, everywhere, on her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, down her stomach, between her legs.

She was already wet for him by the time his fingers stroked her. He moaned into her mouth and parted her legs with his knees. He'd been gentle upon his entrance last night. Tonight he forged ahead, thrusting deep in one smooth motion that made her gasp.

”Wrap your legs around me, Anne,” he commanded.

Without hesitation, she obeyed him. He grasped her hips and thrust deep again, and again, over and over until she tingled, ached with both pleasure and pain, holding on to him as he took them over the edge of sanity. He became primal, biting at her neck, but never hard enough to draw blood, and she in turn used her nails on his back, urged him onward, became as primal as he. The tension coiled inside of her-grew until she exploded. She arched against him and screamed his name.

One deep plunge and she felt him pulsing inside of her, felt him spilling his seed.

She clung to him, both of them gasping for breath, their hearts beating wildly against each other... then the first spasm of pain took him. Merrick jerked away from her.

”The pistol, Anne,” he ground out. ”Get the pistol!”

She sat, clutching the blanket to her naked b.r.e.a.s.t.s, staring down at him. Their eyes met and locked. Slowly, she shook her head. ”No, Merrick. I will not.”

Pain made him spasm, made him curl into a ball, his knees up against his chest. His eyes glowed blue, but even in the darkness, she saw them fill with tears.

”Please, Anne,” he managed. ”I would die if I ever hurt you. I love you.”

Reaching out, she touched his hair, smoothed it from his face. ”I trust you, Merrick. Now you must find the strength to trust yourself.”

”d.a.m.n you, Anne!” he shouted. ”Your trusting heart will get you killed!”

Another spasm, one stronger, took him. Anne scooted away from him. She came up against the tree she had told him she would climb if she felt threatened, but she didn't ready herself to leap into action. The pistol was in a pack she'd placed at the base of the tree. With trembling hands, she reached inside the pack and drew the weapon out.

Before her, on the blanket where they had just made love again, Merrick danced the dance of the wolf. His body twisted and turned. The hair came, then the teeth, the claws, his body shrank, and then he was gone. The wolf came swiftly to its feet.

Despite what she'd told Merrick, her first instinct was to grasp the pistol securely, lift it, and take aim. The animal stared deep into her eyes. They were Merrick's eyes looking at her through the face of a wolf. Anne lowered the pistol.

”You want to kill me, then go ahead,” she said softly. ”But the man you share your skin with will be very angry.”

The wolf c.o.c.ked its head to one side. A moment later it turned and trotted off into the night. Anne released the breath she'd been holding. She laid the pistol within reach and tugged the blanket up around her. She would wait until morning to see if Merrick had told her the truth. If her scent would always bring him back to her.

Anne spent the whole night waiting, listening, hoping Merrick would return to her in the form of the man she loved. A twig snapped and she glanced up. Merrick stood naked in the bushes. He s.h.i.+vered in the morning air. Anne clutched her blanket tighter, rose, and went to him. They simply stared at each other for a moment before she stepped forward, opened her blanket, and enveloped him inside with her. His skin was freezing.

”Why didn't you do what I told you to do, Anne?” he asked against her hair. ”We both know now it was no dream we shared.”

”And we both know you didn't hurt me,” she countered.

”Yet,” he ground out.

She tilted her head to look up at him. ”Why must you believe the worst of yourself, Merrick?”

He met her gaze with a hard one of his own. ”And how can you stand here with me, sharing your warmth, when you know what

I am now?”

She pulled the blanket tighter around them. ”Because I love you,” she answered. ”That's what love is, Merrick. It is unconditional. Is your love for me not the same?” He struggled out of the blanket and away from her. Merrick walked to where he'd discarded his clothing the night before and began to dress. ”It's because I love you that I must do what is best for you, Anne. I'm taking you to London.”

Her heart sank. ”London?”

”You surely have friends there you can stay with. You'll find yourself a suitable man and be quick about it, just as you should

have done from the start.”

Anne frowned at him. ”I am not leaving. We are one day's ride from Gretna Green and I intend to go there, and to marry you, just as we agreed.”

Merrick tugged his s.h.i.+rt over his head. ”I won't marry you, Anne. Not now.”

They were back to this again. Anne felt frustration knot her stomach. ”Then you will take me home,” she said. ”Not to London.”

Merrick paused in his dressing to rub his forehead. ”You cannot go back there and you know it. Not until-”

”I will not marry another,” she interrupted. ”I will go home and make the best of my life, wiser now where my aunt and uncle are

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