Soul of the Wolves

“Did you forget I have amnesia?”

“Oh.” She blushed prettily. “But still. . .”

He growled low. “I’m more interested in learning all about you. Tell me again what I did after I bought you a drink.” Ethan could tell that her heartbeat raced and her blood pressure was rising, a telltale sign that someone was lying. It was amazing that she was able to keep a poker face this far. But his intuition was sharper than any lie detector machine man could make.

“I don’t remember much, I’m sorry. I already had a few drinks before I saw you.”

“Are you sure about that? I don’t buy women I meet in bars drinks quite often.” He groped her thighs under the robe. Her skin was as smooth as silk. He couldn’t wait to put his hands all over her. She fidgeted. She didn’t dare move too much. By this time, she must know that he was full-blown aroused. His cock was as hard as a rock. “If I did, I want to be able to remember.”

“Ethan…” She looked uncomfortable. “I-I’m sorry. I can’t recall…”

“Are you sure?” He groped her thigh and stroked it lazily. “Jog my memory, Susan. What kind of dress were you wearing that night?”

“My dress?” She looked surprised. “It—it was just a regular dress. Dark blue with a flower print. Nothing special.”

“Dark blue?” Ethan inched his hand higher. He could hear her heartbeat accelerate and her body responded to his touch. Her fear clung like an opium haze, lingering and stubborn. At least she didn’t recoil from his stimulation. That was a good thing. She was his mate; they said a pair bonded always felt their connection no matter their circumstances. “Blue must look lovely on your skin. I’m quite partial to blue. Tell me, how did you wear your hair?”

“Like I always do—in a ponytail.”

He shifted his gaze upward, admiring her thick and glossy hair that she bound rather carelessly. With one tug, he undid the knot, causing her hair to tumble down her back like a curtain of silk. He twirled a finger around a lock of her hair and sniffed it. She smelled clean and fresh. Just the way he liked it. “Wear your hair down from now on,” he said thickly. “I like it that way.”

Her gaze found him. A tiny defiance. Uncertainty. Compliance. “Okay,” she said. “You always this bossy?”

He tapped the tip of her nose. “Do you forget who I am?”

“How could I? With you constantly reminding me of it.”

She had spunk. He liked it.

“Hmm. You got a little sass in you. Tell me, what kind of drink did I have that night?”

“Bourbon on the rocks. It’s your favorite drink,” she answered without a pause.

Ethan smiled. She guessed fast as if she’d recited it from a script.

“What’s my favorite color?”

“Black.”

“My favorite food?”

“Steaks. Medium rare.”

“My favorite movies?”

“Silent movies. Buster Keaton. Laurel and Hardy.”

“You know an awful lot about me, considering we only spent a night together. I find that rather curious. Judging from what you told me, I thought we were busy doing the deed all night long.”

A blush colored her face. “We had some ‘Hallmark moments’ together. You were quite chatty that night.”

“Was I?”

“Yeah.”

Little liar. Ethan growled triumphantly. He pulled the robe free and feasted his eyes on the sumptuous banquet that was her body. But what he found made him frown. He saw bruises on her lower torso and upper thighs. Some of them yellowed, as if those cruel beatings had been inflicted over some period of times. She couldn’t claim that she fell from the stairs or walked into a door or something.

“Who did this to you, Susan?” Ethan asked, his anger rising.