Part 7 (2/2)

He managed not to fall into the water while he used the facilities, then staggered out again. It took all the strength he had left to make it back to bed. Once he was horizontal again, he felt her hands on his forehead, and he let her think he was slipping into sleep.

As he relaxed, so did she. When she pulled her hand away, he lay very still, his eyes half-closed. His thoughts were confused, dream and reality twisting together in a pattern he couldn't quite grasp.

But he could tell she was skittish around him. And she certainly hadn't enjoyed being naked in the woods once she had changed back to human form.

The casual thought hit him like bolt of lightning. This was no ordinary woman. She was a werewolf. How the h.e.l.l was that possible? He'd never even heard of a female werewolf before-he hadn't believed they existed.

In the dream, he had thought she was his mate-the woman he had been longing to meet. And that longing seemed to have carried over into real life. Yet he knew almost nothing about her.

He ached to find out more, but instead of bombarding her with questions, he lay back against the pallet, letting his eyelids flutter, as though staying awake was too much effort.

As he pretended to drift into sleep, she sighed, and he thought he caught the edge of relief in that sigh.

When he'd first awakened, her hands had been light as they examined his wounds. Now that he was supposedly unconscious again, he felt her touch grow a bit stronger as she rubbed salve into the cut.

He struggled not to let her know he was reacting to the touch of her small hands on his flesh.

She made a low humming sound as she worked over him. Then she stood, and he heard her move a few feet away.

Apparently the old man had been watching the scene from somewhere nearby. Haig came forward, speaking in a low voice.

But Logan caught the words.

”I see he's housebroken.”

”Of course!”

”Why are you getting so intimate with him?”

”I'm not! I'm tending his wounds.”

The old man snorted. ”I still think we should kill him.”

CHAPTER FIVE.

WHEN RINNA ANSWERED, her voice held as much sorrow as concern. ”Haig, what's happened to you?”

He replied with an angry snarl. ”I'm tired of watching my back all the time-and yours. I'm being practical. Like I said, he could be a spy.”

”Let's a.s.sume he's an innocent bystander,” she said gently.

”He could be a spy for another city. Maybe the Preserve at Eden Brook. Or White Flint.”

”They why hasn't he asked for Information about Sun Acres?”

”He's waiting until he's sure we're not working for Falcone. Then he could ask us to join him.”

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