Keeping the Wolf Read online

  Yes, biggie. He may not always be available, but he wanted to know when his wife called. It may be something small – like she wanted him to bring home Chinese food. But no matter how inconsequential, he wanted to know.

  He grabbed his phone and tried to call her.

  *

  Christine stared at the rain. She should have brought an umbrella. She watched it bounce off her car, numbly wondering whether she should wait until it stopped.

  Her phone vibrated in her hand. Harold was calling. She stared at her phone and the photo of the scan.

  “It’s almost hard to tell at this angle, Mrs. Buchanan, but I’m pleased to say you are going to have a beautiful, healthy girl.”

  She wanted to be happy, wanted to tell Harold, but she was afraid. Her heart told her Harold wouldn’t try to hurt her or the pup, but instinct made her want to run for the hills and protect the pup at all costs.

  She should answer and tell him.

  Her phone finally stopped and a voicemail notification popped up. After a few seconds, it started ringing again.

  He probably wouldn’t stop until she answered. He was persistent like that. She just couldn’t summon up enough courage to face even talking on the phone.

  The words of his grandmother echoed through her, making her shudder violently.

  “No,” she growled, making a young couple just stepping out of the door jump.

  She smiled, though that didn’t pacify them. It must have looked as strained and weird as it felt. They stepped out into the rain to avoid her, and she didn’t blame them.

  “No,” she repeated.

  She wouldn’t let anyone try to take her pup away from her. She dropped her phone in her purse and strode towards her car.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Harold ran through his house. He could still scent Christine – she was here. But was she okay?

  She had not answered any of his calls or voicemails entreating her to call him. The house phone rang and rang. On calling Esther, he discovered that Christine had sent her home.

  Something was wrong. He could feel it, and in spite of his father’s anger and Nora’s objections, he had left work and come home to find out what was happening.

  Work be damned! Pack be damned! His mate needed him; he could feel it.

  “Christine?”

  He ran into the bedroom, relieved to find his mate alive and intact.

  “Harold?” she murmured in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

  His eyes roamed over the suitcase on their bed, and a chill clutched at his heart. His wolf howled.

  “What the hell are you doing?!” he roared.

  *

  Christine stared at her husband. His expression was half-wild. He looked angrier than she could have ever imagined possible.

  She had thought to run. To pack a suitcase and leave. Even got as far as dragging her old case onto the bed and tossing some clothes into it. But then she started coming to her senses.

  She thought of the way they had snuggled in that bed just a week earlier while he placed a territorial hand over her tiny bump. How Harold brought her breakfast in bed – but he wasn’t sure what she wanted due to a little sickness, so he brought her a bit of everything. She ate it all, naturally. She thought of how he had actually researched which would be the best crib for their pup, and how he had cross-examined the poor sales clerk about the pros and cons of each and every crib in the store.

  Harold wanted the baby. She was sure of that. Just as she was sure, he wanted her.

  She just lost her head for a moment and considered doing something awful. Typical that he would come home and catch her in the middle of doing something that she had actually decided not to do anyway.

  “What are you doing?” he asked again. Quieter this time, but a lot more scarily.

  “I ah…”

  “Are you going somewhere?” he asked crisply.

  He placed one hand on the case, anchoring it in place. As if she would grab it and run or something. His eyes swam with amber. She doubted she had ever seen his beast so close to the surface. Before the pregnancy, they had run together as their wolves, but even then he hadn’t looked quite so… primitive.

  “I was thinking about it,” she murmured, forcing herself to stare into his eyes.

  Harold breathed in and out. “Why?”

  “The baby’s a girl,” she whispered.

  “What? I didn’t catch that.”

  “The pup – she’s a girl, okay?” snapped Christine.

  Harold stared at her uncomprehendingly.

  “My scan was moved to today. I tried to call you, I guess you were busy,” she sniffed, not even bothering to hide the hurt from her voice.

  He still stared.

  “It’s a girl… she’s a girl.”

  His face seemed to harden before it creased. “That’s wonderful,” he breathed with feeling.

  Christine gave him a wary look. “It is?”

  “Yes.”

  He moved to her and placed one hand on her bump while the other rubbed up and down her back.

  “You were trying to leave me,” he said lowly before kissing her temple.

  “No,” she murmured. “Yes…. No…” she stammered as he fluttered kisses over her face. “I changed my mind.” Even to her that sounded lame.

  She could feel the heat of his body seeping into hers, his fingers dancing over her back drew paths of awareness throughout her body. She clutched at his shoulders as a wave of lust made her tremble.

  “You’re not leaving me,” he growled.

  He kissed her neck, teasing her skin between his sharp teeth.

  “No,” she whispered.

  There really wasn’t anywhere else she wanted to be.

  Both hands moved to her ass, kneading the flesh.

  “I’ll never let you go,” he growled.

  She could feel his arousal, pressing against her, hot and hard with only a few wisps of fabric separating them. Could feel her own desire rising, her own wolf coming to the fore at the sight of her mate bristling with primal lust.

  “Never!”

  Harold let out a snarl and hauled her up his body, pushing her against the wall.

  “Mine,” he growled.

  He pushed her skirt up and ripped her panties away. His fingers teased her clit, stroking her slickened flesh, readying her for him.

  She moaned his name and pulled open his pants, fishing out his hardness. He grasped her ass and her legs wrapped around him. She cried out in surprised ecstasy as he impaled her with one, long hard thrust.

  “Tell me you’re not leaving me,” he demanded as he drove himself inside her again and again.

  “I’m not,” she whispered, her body quivering against his sensual assault.

  “Tell me!” he howled, taking her with a wild desperate need she easily matched.

  No. She would not leave him. Couldn’t leave him. She loved him, loved everything about him and she couldn’t bear to think of a life without him. She was his as much as he was hers, and she wouldn’t let him go.

  “I’m not,” she cried as her climax tore through her.

  Harold roared ferociously and buried himself inside her, exploding in release.

  Christine clung to him, panting and whimpering.

  “Mine,” he muttered into her neck.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Harold watched Christine a little warily. They were sitting in bed; she was eating a bowl of popcorn while he sipped at his coffee. She looked as innocent as falling snow, but he was a little afraid of what she might do next. A little afraid of what he might do as well.

  Earlier, he had honestly thought he might lose control completely. He wanted to shift to his beast and tear somebody apart. Thankfully, another desire had taken over.

  After, the suitcase had been promptly thrown to the floor, and Christine had taken a short snooze while he held her, perhaps a little too tightly in case she tried to bolt. She awoke hungry, and he had duly obtained fo
od for his mate. As quickly as possible – he ran to the kitchen and back, ignoring the scalding coffee as it sloshed over his hand. He didn’t want to leave her even for a second.

  Christine gave him a nervous look before she clambered over the bed and found her purse. She pulled something out and handed it to him.

  “This is the scan.”

  He studied it, seeing the vague outline of a baby. His baby. His pup. Mine.

  He couldn’t help the wonky smile that spread across his face before he remembered that Christine had almost considered leaving him.

  “Are you not happy it is a girl?” he asked carefully.

  “Of course I am.”

  Christine looked like she was about to burst into tears, and slowly, he dragged her into his arms.

  “Then what is wrong?”

  “I thought you wouldn’t want her,” she murmured. “I thought you wanted a boy.”

  “When have I ever said…”

  “You didn’t,” she grumbled. “I overheard your grandmother and your mother talking. Your grandmother suggested that if it wasn’t a boy that we would… ah…”

  Yes, he could fill in the blanks. His rage boiled as he felt hot, wet tears slithering over his chest. Christine shook with a silent sob.

  “Evil old crone,” he snarled. His animal pushed to the fore. Grandmother and old lady or not, he wanted to claw her at that moment.

  Christine clutched him a little tighter. “Your mother didn’t think you would agree, but Marie said that you could be persuaded. You agreed that having a boy was of the utmost importance.”

  “I’ve never said anything like that to my grandmother. Are you sure she meant me?”

  Christine pulled back to look at him, blinking at him. Her face wet and red. “Your grandmother said the name, Harold… I assumed…”

  “I think she meant my father.”

  Christine let out a fresh round of tears. “I’m so sorry, I was just scared, and I changed my mind about going.”

  Harold grunted and held her tightly, almost crushing her to him. He had almost lost her, and that was unbearable. He would not tell her it was okay because he was too angry with her. Angry she did not trust him.

  “You should have talked to me.”

  Christine nodded against him. “I know.”

  “I trust you; I expect you to…”

  Christine whipped away from him so fast he almost dropped her to the floor. Thankfully he caught her and scowled.

  “You trust me?” she repeated.

  “Of course, but…”

  “Harold, you don’t even trust me enough to allow my male boss to take me out to lunch,” she snapped.

  “That’s not the same,” he argued.

  The tears dried as she gave him a near petulant look. “How is it not the same?”

  “It’s not you I don’t trust.”

  Christine raised an eyebrow. “Do you think he’s going to maul me in the middle of the sushi restaurant?”

  “You shouldn’t be eating sushi in your condition.”

  “Ugh!” She threw up her hands. “I’m sorry I went a little crazy back there, but you know what, I think I’m allowed this one. I’ve been nothing but a dutiful daughter and wife, and still, I can’t do anything right!”

  “You do everything right… almost,” he added after she glowered. “You are perfect.”

  “Humph.”

  “Perfect for me. It is why I love you.”

  Both he and Christine froze. She clearly hadn’t expected him to say it, and honestly, it left him a little startled too.

  It was something he was aware of, but he wasn’t sure he was going to say it. Wasn’t sure he would ever say it. He didn’t know whether she felt the same and whether she ever would feel the same. He had never told anyone he loved them. He decided that telling her would make him look weak, and he had decided not to – until this very moment.

  “What did you say?” she whispered.

  He could deny it, but no, it was time to stop being a coward. He brushed a stray lock out of her face. She was blotchy and puffy and as beautiful to him as she always was.

  “I love you, Mrs. Buchanan.”

  Christine’s lips parted as she stared at him and for a brief moment, he thought she was going to laugh at the ridiculousness of what he said – deride him for daring to love her when she could never love him. But, he couldn’t be more wrong.

  “I love you, too… Mr. Buchanan.”

  Her eyes lit up, and Harold grinned before he kissed her. Just when he thought it was going to be the worst day of his life…

  *

  Things were a little rocky for a few days after that. Harold didn’t really trust her, and she didn’t exactly blame him. He wanted to keep her close at all times, even going as far as making her bring her work up to his office, and making her wait in his office – often falling asleep on his couch – until he was ready to go. She didn’t mind very much – perhaps only when he tried to escort her to the bathroom and come in with her. At that time, she was feeling pretty fragile and having him near helped. Plus she liked seeing the annoyed look on Nora’s face whenever she came into the office and saw Christine there. Petty but enjoyable.

  Harold was happy, though. Happy at the fact that she loved him, and happy they were having a daughter.

  She just had feet cold enough to freeze a hot tub when it came to telling his family. She had barely seen them since the… incident. When she almost ran away. Harold hadn’t really been in the mood for socializing with anyone, even going as far as blowing off a few business dinners.

  As they lay in bed, Christine ran her fingers over his arm, which was firmly locked around her. He always held her while she slept now – almost punishingly tight.

  “Have you told your family about the pup?”

  Harold grunted. “There is nothing to tell.”

  Christine twisted back to look at him. There was a dark look on his face, though this one wasn’t for her, thankfully.

  “Our baby is no concern of their’s,” he said.

  “That’s not how they see it,” she muttered, relaxing back into his body. “Don’t you want a boy… eventually?” she asked.

  “Perhaps,” he replied cautiously.

  “Don’t you want your son to be the next alpha?”

  He grew tenser with each question, perhaps worried she would take offense at one of his answers.

  “I would be proud if my son were alpha. But just as proud of any daughter whatever she chose to be.”

  “Maybe she could be the next alpha.”

  Harold chuckled.

  “Well, why not?”

  “Why not indeed,” he crooned kissing the spot under her ear. She liked it when he did that.

  “We need to decorate the nursery.”

  “Yellow?” he asked with a smile.

  He knew her fondness for the color – given that every day he sent her a bunch of yellow flowers. She was considering opening a flower shop.

  “Actually I was thinking of blue with clouds.”

  “I’m sure that will be perfect.”

  They lay in silence for a few moments before Harold said, “Your father called me today.”

  Christine pushed away from Harold who was reluctant to let her go and leaned on her elbow to look at him.

  “Why did he do that?” she asked cautiously.

  Harold sighed and settled a hand on her hip, not wanting contact to be completely broken.

  “He merely asked how you were doing.”

  Christine scrunched her nose. “Why wouldn’t he call me?”

  “Would you have answered?”

  “Probably not,” she admitted, saddened by that fact. She used to be so close to her parents.

  “He called me last week as well.”

  Christine blinked in surprise. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I was not sure how you would react.”

  They stared at one another.

  “I should have told you,�
� he admitted. “I should have trusted you.”

  “It’s okay,” she said finally. “I’m just glad he’s coming around. I would like our pup to meet my family.”

  Harold smiled and took her hand, bringing it to his lips.

  “I love you, Mrs. Buchanan.”

  Christine giggled. “Really hitting that l-word hard, aren’t you?”

  He told her when they woke up, over breakfast, over lunch, driving home from work… she’d never felt so loved, and it was fabulous!

  Harold blushed slightly. “In truth, I have never said it to anyone else.”

  “Really?”

  Momentary shock assailed her before she remembered what his parents were like - wasn’t that much of a surprise really.

  “Well, perhaps my nanny, Jacinta, when I was three. Right before my mother caught her, ahem, blowing my father and fired her.”

  “Jeez.” Every one of Harold’s childhood stories had a bitter taint to it thanks to his atrocious family.

  “I bet you have said it to many people,” said in a soft voice, but his eyes watched her keenly.

  “Sure,” she shrugged. “To my parents and sisters and brothers, aunts, uncles, grandparents… oh, and my cat.” She smiled at his frown. “Never to a man though.”

  He seemed a little relieved to hear that. “Good,” he said, smugly.

  “I love you, Mr. Buchanan… even though you are insufferable sometimes.”

  Chapter Forty

  Christine took a deep breath and dialed the number.

  “Hello, button nose, is that you?”

  “Hi, Dad.”

  “Thank goodness!” he exclaimed on a growl.

  “Is that her?” asked her mother’s voice in the background.

  There was scrabbling while they argued over the phone.

  “How are you, sweetie?” asked her mother.

  “How’s the baby?” asked her father.

  “Hannah’s a great name if it’s a girl!” called her sister in the background.

  Christine smiled in relief. It felt so normal again to be able to talk to them.

  “I’m fine, though my feet are starting to ache. The doctor says the baby is a girl.”

  There were squeals and growls of congratulations and Christine felt tears of joy trickle down her cheeks.