Keeping the Wolf Page 7

  She found some tennis shoes and pulled them on.

  “I’ll come with you,” he said, a little huskily, his eyes roaming all over her body

  “No!” she blurted, and on seeing his surprised look added, “I mean, I just want a little time alone with them. It’s just that I probably won’t see them for a while.”

  “Texas isn’t that far away. We can visit, and they can visit.”

  “Not every weekend.”

  Harold grunted. “No, that would not be feasible, but I’m sure...”

  “But I won’t see them in a morning over breakfast. Or see them at night before I go to bed. Until yesterday I was living with my family, and now I’ll barely see them at all. You get how hard this is, right?” Though admittedly, more often than not, her family were like ships passing in the night – everyone had a busy schedule.

  Harold nodded, though she wasn’t entirely sure he fully understood. Being away from his grandmother and parents sounded quite delightful.

  “Take as long as you need.”

  Christine nodded. “Thank you.”

  She scurried out of the room, feeling a tremble of unease. When her family left, she really would be alone with only Harold for company. Somehow it felt easier knowing they were in a hotel room just a couple of floors away. But after they left… Her family leaving made her more nervous than the wedding or even the wedding night. That was just one day and one night. Now she had thousands of days and nights stretching out in front of her, and she was a little afraid about that.

  Chapter Eight

  Christine stared out of the window. She hadn’t cried when her family left. Her mother had, and her dad claimed he had grit in his eye, but she hadn’t.

  Not that she wasn’t sad, of course, she was. But while she loved her family, and in spite of her complaints to Harold, in reality, she had all but already moved in with Roark before all this. She practically used to spend every night with Roark anyway. Not quite the same as this, but she was ready to leave home. Though, at least when she was with Roark, her family was just a short car ride away.

  But, while she was sad, she was more preoccupied with worry - worry about her future with Harold. Worry about what she was going to do now.

  Harold drove up to a huge gate and was waved through by the smiling security guard, who took more than a little interest in Christine.

  Harold huffed. “That was Dale - a member of the security team for the community.”

  Christine watched as they passed various houses, all well-kept, all nice. Slowly they started getting bigger, more opulent.

  “The whole pack lives here inside the community – we’re surrounded by fences, and have a large security team.”

  “It’s huge,” she murmured as they passed a large park.

  “We have a huge pack.” He pointed to a wooded area. “We use that when we go for pack runs. We’re not big on hunting, but small prey lives in there if you wanted to indulge. This is the center of the community.”

  He finally pulled into the driveway of a massive house. Her parents had a very nice house, but not like this.

  “Is this your house?” she asked.

  “No.”

  Christine looked at him. No, please don’t say it was his parents’ house and he still lived with them.

  “It’s our house,” he clarified.

  “Oh.” She felt a lot lighter to hear that. “Just us? It’s pretty big.”

  Harold shrugged. “Six bedrooms, a bathroom for every bedroom. My parents’ house is bigger.”

  “Well, when you put it like that, you’re right, it’s tiny.”

  He frowned. “If you don’t like it…”

  Christine rustled up a small smile to show she was joking. “It’s a lovely house.”

  Harold didn’t seem convinced, but he dropped the matter, and led her into the house, giving her a short tour. It was lovely inside too, but pretty bland. Harold either really liked the color white, or he didn’t care at all about how the house looked.

  They finished the tour in the largest bedroom.

  Harold cleared his throat, gesturing with his hand. “And this is our room. That will be your closet, and the bathroom’s through there.”

  Christine walked around it, marveling at the size of her closet and the bathroom – she could fit her old bedroom in her new bathroom!

  “It’s really nice,” she murmured staring at the enormous bed.

  That sucker had to be bigger than king size – what was after that though? Emperor size? Galactic ruler size? How many other women had been in that bed with him?

  “I had my assistant arrange for the whole house to be redecorated.”

  “By someone allergic to color no doubt.”

  Harold let out a polite chuckle. “I thought you might want to redecorate yourself. So I decided on white for the time being. I thought it better to cover up the gold paint of the previous owner.”

  Christine cocked her head. “How long have you lived here?”

  “Just a few days. The community has one apartment block – I was living there until I found out I was to be married. I thought something bigger would be more appropriate.”

  “I wouldn’t have minded living in an apartment.” It would have been a little less intimidating than this Haunted Mansion of a building.

  “I thought we would need the space for when we have,” he paused for a couple of seconds, “pups.”

  “Right,” she breathed, before giggling self-consciously. “I think I’ll hold off on decorating the nursery just yet.”

  Harold’s eyes darkened. “Of course. I don’t mean to pressure you about that.”

  “Oh, I know!” Christine blushed slightly.

  He nodded. “Truly, you can do whatever you want to the house.”

  “My parents are shipping some more of my stuff, so I’ll have a few things to put in the house – knick knacks and what not.”

  “Good. I have to go into the office for a few hours. I’ll fetch your suitcases from the car, and you can start unpacking.”

  A tingle of disappointment licked through her. “It’s Sunday.”

  Harold gave her an apologetic look. “Pack business.”

  Christine shuffled her feet. She felt like a pouty child asking for more attention. “We just got married yesterday.”

  His face was blank as he regarded her.

  “It’s fine,” she added quickly, looking away as her body flushed with embarrassment. “I’m sure I’ll be busy unpacking anyway.”

  “I am sorry. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He wrote a quick note and handed it to her. “My work and cell numbers are here – as well as numbers for our car service.”

  She took it and stared at the list.

  He hovered, as if uncertain what to say or do. He leaned toward her, and for a second she thought he was going to kiss her, but he didn’t.

  “Call me if you need anything.”

  “Sure.”

  He nodded and left.

  She spent the rest of the day arranging her clothes. She’d brought loads, but they still swam in the cavernous closet. On investigating, she found the kitchen to be well stocked and made herself a grilled cheese.

  She called her parents, who sounded anxious and worried. She reassured them she was fine, even if she didn’t really believe it, nor did they really.

  In vain, she waited for Harold to return but he never did, and she ended up making another grilled cheese for dinner. She wandered through the huge house, carrying her grilled cheese with her.

  It was certainly a lovely house, but so cold and empty. There was a lot she could do with it – getting rid of the awful white everywhere would be her first move.

  Maybe she could go for a run. That usually cheered her up. Except she didn’t know the area. True it was a gated community, but how would they feel about a wolf running free? Maybe they didn’t allow it. She didn’t want to embarrass Harold on her first day. No, she would just stay in and maybe watch a movie and perhaps
get used to being on her own.

  Happy one-day anniversary she huffed to herself.

  *

  Harold slammed the door of his car and winced as he realized he shouldn’t do that anymore. His house was far enough away from the neighbors that it wouldn’t bother them, but he didn’t want to wake Christine. If she was asleep, that is. It was 10.30; she might still be awake - he hoped she was still awake. He was hoping they could spend their first night in their new house together. It wasn’t just about the sex – though he wouldn’t deny he wanted her more than he had any other woman – he just wanted them to be together, to have her smile at him.

  Selfish maybe, given that he had abandoned her for the last seven hours, but he had spent every moment away desperate to get back to her. He would have been back sooner was it not for his vicious grandmother. He tried to speak to her about her veto on allowing him to add Christine to the deed of their house and his bank accounts. She wouldn’t hear of it, claiming that Christine had to prove she could be trusted.

  The mating agreement mentioned nothing about the house or his accounts. If Christine decided to leave him tomorrow, under the agreement his pack would take all their money back, but Christine would still be able to take the money from his accounts and take half his house. Harold doubted that given the pack’s cutthroat lawyers, but she was adamant about it.

  Unfortunately, his father agreed with her and produced what he believed was proof of Christine’s untrustworthy nature. They were pictures taken four days before the wedding. They showed Christine being kissed by a large, dark male. He recognized the male from his own investigator’s dossier. His name was Roark – Christine’s ex-boyfriend.

  His grandmother had sneered, saying that Christine was clearly still in love with the other male.

  Harold didn’t enjoy seeing the pictures, but he was not surprised. His own investigator had reported the incident to him but hadn’t been able to get a good shot. Clearly, he didn’t have as good a hiding place as his father’s investigator.

  The way his investigator reported the incident was that the male had climbed in through her window, argued with her and forced a kiss on her. Christine hadn’t initiated it and had struggled against him. That was the part that really angered him – some asshole hurting and taking advantage of his Christine.

  Other than that incident, he had no reason to think that Christine was still seeing the male. Whether or not she was still in love with him was another matter, and while it bothered him, it was not something he could do anything about.

  Harold didn’t waste his time saying any of this to his grandmother or his father. It wouldn’t make a blind bit of difference. He would find a way to get his own way without them knowing. His family saw Christine as a commodity, an item in a deal. But she was his wife. Harold would live with her for the rest of their lives. They were going to have children together for crimeny's sake! Starting their marriage off with suspicion and distrust would not a happy marriage make.

  He made his way into the dark house and listened for any signs of movement. Nothing.

  Silently, he made his way to their room and found Christine sound asleep in their bed, a book dangling from her hand. He took it away from her and placed it on the bedside table. She let out a small whimper and scrunched her nose before turning over and snuggling into her pillow.

  So pretty, so innocent, so… mine.

  He thought of the photos, of Roark pressing his lips to hers - those sweet, sweet lips that had felt so soft and hungry against his.

  Fury stole through him at the idea that she still loved the other male, still wanted him. It didn’t matter even if she did. Harold felt confident that she would not leave him to be with Roark – if she wanted Roark, she wouldn’t waste her time marrying Harold in the first place. But, was it too much to ask that she would prefer her husband to Roark? Rather than the other way around.

  If he wanted that he would have to make an effort – to woo her. He just wasn’t so sure how to go about that.

  Chapter Nine

  When Christine awoke the next day, Harold was already gone. He left a note. ‘Call me if you need anything.’ She assumed he was at work- that was pretty much all he seemed to do. She wondered whether he was annoyed by the fact that he had to take time off to get married, whether she was an inconvenience to him. He had been polite – nothing but polite – but that didn’t mean he didn’t consider her an annoyance.

  She ought to get up, she had to… actually, she had nothing to do. At all.

  Christine lay back in bed, staring at the ceiling. She didn’t even hear him come home last night, though she had been tired and went to bed at ten. But still – ten was late for him to be out and at work, especially for a Sunday. If he was at work… Yes, he could have been anywhere and she wouldn’t have a clue. He could have been with a mistress or a girlfriend and she wouldn’t know. Not a happy thought.

  Her phone started vibrating and for a second she wondered if her husband was calling her. She almost hoped he was, to ease the nauseous feeling in her stomach. But of course, it was her mother, a friendly voice Christine was grateful for in that moment.

  They said their hellos and Christine asked after her family.

  “Where are you right now, sweetie?” asked her mother.

  Christine stared around at the vast, white room. “Actually, I’m still in bed – in my new home.”

  Her home. Her huge, cold, white, husbandless home. The words tasted bad on her tongue.

  “Oh!” Her mother fluttered on the other end of the phone. “Harold is not there is he?”

  “No, he left before I woke up.” Perhaps he was avoiding her.

  “Are you… physical?”

  “Am I what?” She hadn’t done any exercise that morning.

  Her mother sighed in dismay. “Is Harold performing his… manly duties?”

  “What, like opening doors and stuff?”

  “No! Goodness, Christy!” she exclaimed. “I meant are you two having S-E-X?!”

  “Mother!” Her cheeks flamed. Undoubtedly her mother knew she wasn’t a virgin, but that was as much detail as she should know on that matter.

  “Well, I tried to be subtle. I wanted to talk to you about this yesterday but I couldn’t in front of your father. He’d hit the roof if I mentioned you having S–E-X. He already has it in his head that Harold is ravaging his virginal little daughter against her will.”

  Nope, no ravaging - just some very enjoyable sex. But since then he had barely been near her in over a day. More’s the pity thought an inner voice best left unheard.

  “Mom, we’ve… we’ve consummated the marriage.” Goodness that was hard to admit to her mother.

  “It wasn’t… was it…”

  Her hackles rose. What was her mother suggesting of Harold?

  “It was fine, Mom.” Better than fine. “Look, I have to go… ah… unpack.”

  She didn’t, but she definitely didn’t want to be in earshot of anymore of this conversation.

  They said their goodbyes, told each other they already missed the other and promised to talk soon.

  Christine took a quick shower and tried to forget about the conversation with her mother. She pulled on some sweats and dragged her hair into a loose bun before venturing down to the kitchen for some breakfast.

  She scented something was off a couple of seconds before she ran smack dab into a middle-aged wolf shifter.

  “Crap on a cracker!” Christine exclaimed as she came face to face with a female wearing a pink, frilly apron.

  The female wasn’t half as shocked. The woman beamed. “You must be the new Mrs. Buchanan,” she gushed, grasping one of Christine’s hands. “We weren’t introduced at the wedding, but I’m Esther, your housekeeper.”

  “Housekeeper?”

  Since when? Harold didn’t say squat about any housekeeper! Was this his way of telling her? Scaring the living daylights out of her?

  Esther didn’t seem to think anything was amiss in Christin
e’s reaction. “Yes, I’ve worked for Mr. Buchanan for a year now. I make sure the household bills are paid. I do his cooking and I freeze his meals. I do the shopping and the laundry and supervise the cleaning. When Mr. Buchanan lived in the apartment I used to do the cleaning myself, but this house is a little large.”

  “Oh wow, that’s a lot – I actually kind of thought I would be doing some of those things.”

  Esther beamed at her. “No need, that’s what I’m here for. Can I make you some breakfast? I can whip up practically anything,” said the chatty woman. “I always keep the kitchen well stocked. If there is anything you want food-wise just ask, or write it on the list on the fridge. I rarely ever see Mr. Buchanan – given his working hours - which is why I started putting the list on the fridge. Like I say, I tend to make Mr. Buchanan’s meals in advance and freeze them so if there are any you would like me to make, just let me know.”

  “Umm, thanks, but I’m happy to cook for myself and Harold. Shouldn’t I be doing any of the household stuff?”

  Esther patted her hand. “I’m sure you’ve got much more important things to do.”

  “Right.”

  She just had no idea what.

  *

  Harold reread the sentence for the third time, but it still didn’t sink in. Damnit! He had to know this damn contract inside out for his next meeting that was in – gah – ten minutes. But, he couldn’t concentrate. All he could think about was Christine.

  She was in a strange house, in a strange city and her strange husband had just left her to it. He regretted that they hadn’t seen each other in over a day now. Not the best start to their marriage, though perhaps she would have to get used to it. He worked long hours, and he had no intention to change that. He had a lot of responsibilities to his pack mates, and one day he would be the alpha. He took that seriously, and his wife would have to understand that.

  He thought that, but it didn’t ease his worry over Christine. She had looked mildly disappointed when he left her yesterday and that both bothered and pleased him. Disappointment was better than her being relieved to see the back of him. He remembered her sweet smile, the tiny dimple in her left cheek, the way she cried out and bit her lip as she climaxed in his arms…