His eyes flared with a measure of worry. She considered it for long moments, knowing he would do it, for her. She finally shrugged. “Hell, I guess you need your hands free, huh?”
“It would make it much easier to love you,” he assured her with dark promise as his hands caressed her back, twined in her long black hair. “And I can love you well, my Hope.”
“Tell me what happened.” She needed to know why it had taken him so long to come for her.
Wolfe sighed deeply.
“When we escaped, it was with no money, no supplies, nothing but our instincts.” He shrugged heavily, grimacing at the thought of those early days. “We barely survived before I was able to arm us and train the males sufficiently to fight. Then we began hiring ourselves out. Kidnappings, search and rescue. A few stints as hired guns in petty wars. Our reputation didn’t take long to grow. We computerized, took only the assignments we were assured were not tricks of your mother’s, and grew more secure.”
“When did she find you?” She needed to know how long her mother had allowed her to live, grief stricken, in pain without him.
“Within two years. She made her first attempt to recapture us through a kidnapping she arranged. When that didn’t work, she began sending me pictures of you. Last year I received several, via my Internet connection, of you with several other men. I went insane, Hope.”
His simple words vibrated with agony and loss.
“I visit the gynecologist monthly, because of the effects of the ‘mating’,” she told him hesitantly. “Last month, I was sore, hurting afterwards. She must have had him rupture the hymen to ensure your belief in it.”
Would he believe her? She stared up at his quiet face, seeing none of the disgust, the fury that had been there earlier.
He shook his head. “I should have known. I should have thought. But all I could think about was another touching you. I have not been stable these last months beloved.” He kissed her lips gently, an apology, an unspoken plea in his eyes that she forgive him. And she could do no less.
“Well, after such incredible orgasms, I guess I can forgive you,” she whispered with a sensual smile. She was more than ready for another.
Hope frowned then as his eyes closed with weary resignation, and though he appeared relaxed, she could see his muscles slowly tightening as though his body was preparing for a blow. His arms tightened around her as he took a harsh breath a second before she heard her mother’s sneering voice.
“So it would appear the animal has made an appearance. You knotted her good, Wolfe. You should be proud. I’ll enjoy training your brats to obey me a bit better than you did though.”
Terror shot through Hope. She turned to roll from beneath him, to keep him from sheltering her body with his own, but he controlled the movement with a tightening of his arms around her.
“I love you, Hope,” he whispered a second before he raised his head, staring in cold fury at the woman who had invaded his life once again as she leaned casually against the framed doorway.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“Hello, Bitch. Why am I not surprised to see you here?” His voice was filled with disgust at the vision he saw before him.
Wolfe looked over at the small, diminutive woman who stepped into the room. She was dressed casually in a pullover sweater, twill pants and loafers. The very picture of a successful doctor, if you discounted the lethal pistol in her hand, and the gleam of vicious triumph in her black eyes.
“I knew the altered pictures of those men f**king her would bring you out,” she chortled gleefully. “Did you really think my frigid daughter would allow one man to touch her, let alone two at a time? Her doctor had to rupture her hymen, she was so damned cold. Really, Wolfe, you two made it frighteningly easy to capture you.”
He smiled. The trap was sprung, just as he had anticipated. But he was more than thankful to the monster for clearing up the matter of his sole possession of Hope.
“Yeah, I did, didn’t I? Perhaps you were the easy one though,” he suggested with a smile.
Delia Bainesmith’s eyes narrowed.
“You always were a rogue,” she sneered. “Never obeying orders, always attempting to escape. You were mine. My animal, my possession. I created you.”
Her voice echoed with her fury, her insane belief that he should always be in her control.
“You created me, but you will never own me,” he promised her lethally. “You forget, Bitch. You used the DNA of a wolf, not the lap puppies you should have. No man or woman controls the wolf.”
“Then I will control the whelps you’ve bred on my traitorous daughter,” she sneered, raising the gun, her finger tightening on the trigger. “And I’ll kill you.”
He flipped the switch on the wall behind him before she could react. The gun flew from her hand, clattering over the floor as she was knocked off balance by the falling sandbag and imploding plaster from the ceiling.
It was the opening he needed. Wolfe jumped from the bed, reaching down for the gun as she flew at him, a dagger in her hand, maniacal hatred contorting her expression. He heard Hope cry his name out in fear, her voice filled with tears, with terror. He flung himself away from the monster, angling one leg out in a quick, arching motion, taking a swipe at her feet as she passed by. A startled cry erupted from her throat as she fell.
Wolfe jumped to his feet, gripping the gun as he pointed it at her, watching her carefully. It was then he saw the blood oozing slowly from beneath her body. Hope must have seen it as well. He heard her breath catch, glimpsed her pale, horrified face.