Wild Wolf Claiming. Grace Goodwin
in the rear view mirror. The fading green and yellow bruising was almost completely gone now. And the light coating of makeup I wore hid the rest. I’d been stupid, running blindly in the dark. The doctor had said I was lucky I hadn’t lost an eye. Robbie had been skulking around, oozing fury. And yeah, it was obvious the doctor didn’t believe I’d done it to myself. He’d thought Robbie hit me and I was covering for my boyfriend.
As if. But it had felt good to make Robbie suffer.
Besides, a little makeup and I still looked good, especially since I’d left the jerk two time zones away. The sun had pinked my cheeks. My eyes were sparkling with something other than rage, and I felt free. Happy.
If I’d done what I wanted to do when Robbie was feeling me up, I’d be sitting in a jail cell right now. Fortunately, I was very, very good at controlling my temper. My mother had drilled that into me since I could walk. A Windbourn never loses their temper.
There were a lot of rules like that. Don’t lose your temper. Don’t draw attention to yourself in public. Don’t run too fast. No sports. Don’t. Don’t.
“Don’t date a member of the Howard family,” I added. I’d broken that one, and look how fantastically that little adventure played out.
They were a wealthy family that lived farther north. The Howard family pretty much owned the small town they lived in, just like the Winterbourns ran East Springs. And the rivalry between the Howards and the Windbourns went as far back as I could remember. No, much longer than my lifetime. Our high school hated theirs, our mayor hated theirs. It was intense and very small town. And me with Robbie? It had seemed very Romeo and Juliet…well, without the Romeo and Juliet. I’d seen to that. I’d found the entire thing ridiculous.
Sure, he was hot. Rippling muscles, dark hair, the face of a god. He’d said all the right things, done all the right things. Until he got me beneath him. Then something inside me had come roaring to life, but not with desire.
I’d never felt anything like it, before or since. And frankly, the ferocity of my reaction scared the shit out of me.
I’d wanted to kill him. And not in a pretty way, in a gouge out his eyes and rip his throat out kind of way.
A huge overreaction for a guy I’d invited into my bed. I’d done it partly to test myself because I was tired of having the reputation of being a frigid witch, and partly to defy my Grandad and his legion of spies that were always following me around since my mom died, watching me like I was a ticking time bomb.
I wanted to want Robbie. I had. I’d tried, but there just hadn’t been anything right about it. I wanted my heart to race. I wanted to feel wild and desperate and out of control. I wanted passion like all my friends spoke about, that I knew existed with the right guy. I’d wanted to feel that and I’d hoped Robbie would be it. It would’ve been so simple.
Meh. He’d been fine. Fooling around had been fine. Fine. But the whole time I’d been thinking about my college application to Lewiston and Cooke College, wondering if they’d take me, wondering if my father’s cousins still lived in the same small town in Idaho. Robbie had been touching me, kissing me, his body hot and hard and pressing me into the bed and I’d been wondering how I’d done on the math placement exam.
Which was just messed up.
A rabbit darted into the road and seeing my approach, scurried back into the thick woods that were right up on the road’s edge, bringing me back from my thoughts. Fine. I didn’t want fine. I wanted more. I wanted everything. Sweaty skin, ragged breathing, heated touches, soft caresses, whispered words. Blinding pleasure. It was out there, with someone. I put my fingers to my almost healed cheek. Just not with Robbie and not in East Springs.
My spine tingled and my skin broke out with goose bumps despite the heat of the sun shining through the trees. I had the top down and my dark hair flying wild behind me. The sun was baking my skin, but a chill moved through me and I thought I saw a shadow racing beside me in the woods just off the highway.
But that was freaking impossible. Right? Nothing could run that fast.
Scared now, and feeling stupid about it, I slowed the car down to sixty-five, relieved when I saw a sign for Black Falls. Five miles. Which meant about five minutes until I could get out of this car, stretch my legs, get checked in to a hotel and take a nice, hot shower.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
“What the hell?” The steering wheel jerked in my hands and I had to hold on tightly to keep the car from swerving off the road, right into the forest.
Foot off the gas, I eased to the side, fighting the car the whole way. When I finally rolled to a stop, I took a second to catch my breath, let my heart rate slow. Muttering a string of curses, I got out and walked around.
The right front tire was flat as a pancake and I hadn’t seen another car for a solid ten minutes. I was out in the middle of Nowhereville.
“Damn it, damn it, damn it!” I was so not in the mood for this. Sure, I could change a damn tire, but I was wearing a bright pink sundress and my brand new white sandals. I had a mani-pedi in hot pink to match, and I didn’t want to drive into my new town, to a new school and a new life with tire grease and dirt all over me.
Hands on my hips, I scanned the road in both directions. Nothing.
Bending over the passenger side door, I grabbed my cell phone from the cup holder.
Nope. Zero bars. I looked around at the trees. The never-ending trees. No bars meant I couldn’t splurge for a tow truck even if I wanted to.
And my spare was buried in the trunk under just about everything I owned.
Tossing the phone on the passenger seat, I spun and leaned my backside against the car door. “This is not happening.”
I would not cry. Wouldn’t do it.
A Windbourn never shows weakness in public. Don’t cry, dear. Never, ever cry where they can see you.
Holy hell. How many times had I heard my mother say that one?
Evidently enough, because the sting of tears dried up instantly. With a sigh, I walked around, pulled the keys out of the ignition and opened the trunk. If I had to unpack the whole damn car, I might was well get started.
“Need some help?”
The voice was deep, masculine and raced through me like an electric current. I jumped, hitting my head on the open trunk before slowly pivoting on my heel to find the sexiest man I’d ever seen.
He was six-three if he was an inch, with golden brown hair and amber eyes that were watching me with laser focus. He wasn’t ogling, but looking me straight in the eye. Somehow, that didn’t mean much. I had the feeling he was acutely aware of every inch of me without even shifting his gaze.
“I…um, I have a flat.” I tried to peek around him, but I didn’t see a car or a truck or a motorcycle. What had he done? Run out here? “Where’s your car?”
He laughed and I found myself smiling back. He tucked his hands into his jeans pockets, his stance casual. “There’s a fishing hole just over that ridge.” He angled his chin behind him. “I heard your radio, and then the tire blow. Thought you might need some help.”
Oh. Damn. He’d heard me blaring Taylor Swift? I felt my cheeks turning pink, but there wasn’t anything I could do about it. And my mother had never told me any Windbourn rules about music.
“I can change the tire for you. Or I can call my cousin, Drake, and he can come out and give you a tow.”
“There’s no cell service,” I blurted out.
His lithe, well-muscled frame was defined by a pair of well-worn, well shaped jeans. They cupped his hips and butt, and his…ahem, quite large package. Realizing I was the one who was ogling, I jerked my gaze up to his flat stomach, broad chest and even broader shoulders. A simple black