Blood Wolf (Vintage Collection)

Pants, she decided. Definitely pants. They would probably take Damian’s motorcycle, and hiking up a skirt wouldn’t be very attractive. She chose a pair of sleek black flared trousers which hugged her hips, a sage green stretch cotton top that accentuated her full breasts—definitely her best feature—and black leather flats. She decided against sandals for the bike. She had begun to apply makeup when someone knocked again.

Again, no one was there, but a bouquet of pink roses laced with baby’s breath sat on the floor with another note.

“This flora pales in comparison to your beauty, love. See you soon. D.”

Suzanne’s heart thumped and her skin tingled. How could such intense emotions course through her so soon after Wade’s betrayal?

But she liked it. She liked it very much.

So different from Wade, he was. Dark and sexy to Wade’s auburn perfection. Yet Wade paled next to Damian. Yes, he was chiseled and his azure blue eyes shone with the light of thousand torches. But Damian oozed raw sexuality, natural male strength and power coupled with a sweet vulnerability that made her crave his touch. Wade had never been vulnerable. Never would be.

She placed the vase of roses on her dresser and breathed in their fragrance. She loved the smell of roses, floral and exotic. Her favorite flower in her preferred color. How had he known?

Suzanne went into the bathroom and brushed her hair. A few minutes later, she heard another knock on the door. She ran out, hoping to catch Damian in the act. But again, no one stood on the other side.

Suzanne gasped as she looked down. The most adorable stuffed wolf sat there, with a note secured by a red ribbon around his neck. Suzanne loved wolves. They were her favorite animal. She collected wolf prints and figurines. And at age twenty-seven, several stuffed wolves still graced her bed. But she hadn’t brought any of them to Scotland.

She clasped the wolf to her chest, buried her nose in its fur, and hugged it to her bosom. Impetuously, she kissed its head and squeezed it tighter.

Then she remembered the note. She tore it open and read:

“I wish I were in your arms instead of this little lad. Counting the moments until we’re together, D.”

Suzanne laughed aloud. How had he known she would hug the stuffed animal? Was she that transparent? Apparently so.

She returned to the bathroom, humming a Scottish tune under her breath.

Scotsmen.

Delicious.

When her face and hair satisfied her, she checked her watch. Five thirty. A half hour until Damian would call for her. She lay down on her bed and cuddled her new wolf friend, anticipating her evening with this strange, enigmatic man. She still found it hard to believe that he wanted her.

16

Damian’s heart raced as he knocked on Suzanne’s door. This wooing thing was more difficult than he had imagined. There were so many different ideas, so many varied ways to make a woman fall for a man. After an hour of net surfing, though, a couple of things had stood out. Those few ideas that everyone seemed to agree on.

Send flowers.

Check.

Send candy.

Check.

Send a teddy bear.

He had cheated on that one. He liked the wolf a lot better, and he had somehow felt she would as well.

There were other things he would try later.

A moonlit walk.

A visual caress.

A kiss in the middle of a sentence. He still didn’t understand that one, but he was willing to try anything.

But first, dinner.

His breath caught in his throat when she opened the door.

She was beautiful. Everything about her appealed to him. Her silky hair flowing in soft waves down her back, her sparkly gray eyes smiling into his, her lush body covered in sage green and black. Those breasts, oh God, those breasts. A more enticing pair didn’t exist anywhere on the planet. His skin heated, and he began to stiffen. Damn, now isn’t the time.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hi, love.” He curled his lips into a smile that he hoped she found attractive.

“Come on in.” She stepped aside for him to enter.

He pulled her close and kissed her chastely on the cheek. It took tremendous effort not to rip her clothes into shreds and carry her to the bed.

“Thank you for the gifts,” she said. “I loved them all. Every single one.”

“You’re welcome, love.”

“So—” She cleared her throat. “What are we doing tonight?”

“What would you like to do?”

“Well, I’m hungry. Dinner would be a good start.”

“Perfect. We have reservations.”

“Where?”

“Not anywhere in Padraig.”

“Thank God,” Suzanne said. “Where, then?”

“Thurso. It’s only forty-five minutes away.”

“Am I dressed okay? For the bike, I mean.”

“You look perfect.” He cupped her cheek and gently rubbed his thumb over her bottom lip. It felt like silk. “And we’re not taking the bike. We’re taking my car.”

“You have a car?”

“Of course. A Bentley.”

Suzanne’s eyes widened and her mouth formed an oval. A perfectly luscious oval. “A Bentley? Wade couldn’t even afford a Bentley. How on earth, Damian?”