Читать книгу The Unforgettable Wolf - Jane Godman - Страница 11

Chapter 4

Violet’s memory might have deserted her, but she was fairly sure most people did not travel in their own luxury jet. As they mounted the steps of the sleek airplane, a uniformed man bowed low in greeting. That, too, seemed unlikely to be an everyday occurrence.

“Welcome aboard, Mr. Zilar. My name is Daniel, and I’m here to take care of your comfort during the flight.”

“Is there any message for me from Mr. Taverner?” Nate kept his hand in the small of Violet’s back, and she was grateful for that light contact. Everything felt strange and overwhelming, but his touch was comforting. Was there a possibility of it already becoming too comforting, of her starting to depend on him too much? She didn’t have time to explore the thought, but like a new and exotic taste, it lingered.

“Mr. Taverner told me to tell you everything is taken care of.” Daniel turned to Violet. “Your luggage has already been brought aboard, Miss Wolfe.”

Miss Wolfe? She turned questioning eyes to Nate, and he grinned. Leaning closer, he pressed his lips up against her ear so he could whisper. “It was the only name I could come up with on the spur of the moment.”

“My luggage?” she whispered back, as they followed Daniel inside the polished interior of the plane.

“Ged is very thorough.” He seemed to feel it was an answer. Instead it raised more questions. Who was this mysterious Mr. Taverner who seemed to already have such a strong influence over her life?

The main cabin was an elegant salon with cream furnishings and walnut trim. Every feature had been designed with comfort in mind, including the finishing touches of fresh fruit, champagne and chocolates. Violet gazed around with wide eyes. Daniel held open a door, through which she could see a huge bed.

“I took the liberty of placing your suitcases in here.” Daniel indicated a neat arrangement of stacked luggage just inside the bedroom door.

There were three large suitcases and two smaller ones. Although Violet might not know much about these things, she sensed that they, like her surroundings, were expensive and customized. She tried to catch Nate’s eye and give him a we have to talk about this look, but he was turning away from her, addressing his next words to Daniel.

“There was a problem with Miss Wolfe’s passport. Mr. Taverner was going to sort it out.”

“It’s all taken care of. The new document was delivered just before you arrived. The immigration official will come aboard before we depart to do the necessary checks.”

Violet slid her hand into Nate’s. Document? Official? Checks? None of those things sounded like things in which she wanted to participate. That sense of not belonging swept over her again. The fear of being discovered in some wrongdoing was overwhelming. Nate returned the pressure of her fingers reassuringly.

“In that case, can you leave us alone before we set off?”

Daniel bowed again and closed the bedroom door behind him as he left. When he had gone, Nate leaned against the door, watching Violet’s face. “You are not okay with this.”

She released a long exhale. “That’s because I have no idea what this is.” She gestured around the small but luxurious bedroom as she spoke. “Do you always travel this way?”

He laughed. “This is my manager’s over-the-top way of responding to my plea for help. I told him I wasn’t leaving America without you, but that you had no identification. I don’t know how he has managed to get you a passport in such a short time, and I’m not going to ask. I suspect his methods weren’t legal and probably cost a lot of money. All I know is I sent him your picture and he said he’d do the rest. I guess he decided there would be fewer questions asked if we flew privately.”

“And the luggage?” Violet pointed to the suitcases.

“I asked him to get someone to pick you up a few things. He tends to do things on a grand scale.” He smiled reassuringly. “Once we are over the passport hurdle, we can relax. I’m meeting my bandmates in London, so we have the plane to ourselves.”

Daniel tapped on the door at that moment, his face apologetic. “The immigration official is here. He said it will only take a few minutes if he could just see you both with your passports.”

Violet edged closer to Nate, and he took her hand again, smiling down at her. “Come on. Once this is done, we can get going.”

She nodded miserably. She had no idea what her life was usually like, but she didn’t recognize this crawling feeling of fear. She sincerely hoped this constant nervousness was werewolf attack–induced and not a feature of her personality. Or maybe it’s simpler. Maybe I’m just tired. She hadn’t slept, and that big, crisp bed looked very inviting.

The immigration official was more interested in Beast, Nate’s band, than in Violet. He had their latest album and was annoyed that he hadn’t known he would be meeting Nate that day.

“I’d have brought it along and asked you to sign the cover.”

“Write down your contact details.” Nate signaled to Daniel, who produced a piece of paper and a pen. “I’ll get a copy to you that’s been signed by all the band members.”

For a moment Violet thought the immigration official might be about to hug Nate. She knew it would not be a popular move with the intensely private man she had known for only a few hours. Instead, he recalled his position and opted for gripping Nate’s hand gratefully. Turning to the passports, he checked them quickly.

“Everything is in order here. You’re cleared to leave.” He handed the documents back to them and left, turning back with a cheery wave when he reached the door.

“That’s it?” Violet looked down at the little booklet in her hand. It had conferred a status on her she didn’t have before. Wolfe. She wondered what her real passport said. She couldn’t recall ever seeing one of these things until now. Memory was a strange thing. Somewhere, locked away in the recesses of her mind, were the clues to her identity. She just had no idea how to get to them.

“That’s it,” Nate confirmed. “It’s a long journey. Why don’t you make the most of it by getting some sleep?”

“Do you always know the right thing to say and do?”

Her words seemed to shake him, and he gazed down at her for a moment before replying. “Not always.”

* * *

Do you always know the right thing to say and do? Violet’s question had played on his mind throughout most of the transatlantic flight. He watched her as she slept. Lying next to her, but not touching her. Because that was what she had asked him to do.

“Will you stay with me?” She only had to raise those incredible violet-blue eyes shyly to his and he was lost.

“Anytime you need me.” Would he always do what Violet asked him to? Probably.

His words, together with his presence, had calmed her nerves, and Violet had fallen asleep almost as soon as her head touched the pillows. Not Nate. Despite his weariness, he had remained awake, wondering about that question. Debating his motives. Could bringing her with him be considered “the right thing”?

As soon as he had taken a look at Violet in that cheap motel room, something inside him had lurched out of place. It hadn’t gone back again. He studied her now. The dark fan of her lashes against her pale cheek. The midnight velvet of her hair curling soft on the pillow. The plump, inviting cushion of her lips. She was cream and rose and ebony. And, when she opened those glorious eyes, she was lavender and lilac. A fairy-tale princess. Every man’s fantasy. But Nate wasn’t every man. Six years ago, a werewolf had stripped away his humanity. Yes, his friends had patched him up, but they hadn’t made him whole again. The part that made him human was gone forever. He didn’t know what he was. A man-shaped monster. That about summed up Nate Zilar.

He had spent too much time between then and now wallowing in self-pity, and he shrugged it off, returning to the mystery of Violet. If she was a werewolf—and he felt strongly that she was—why wasn’t he repulsed by that? He hated werewolves. But that didn’t come close to describing the red-hot bitterness he felt toward them. When Nate had been at his most vulnerable, a werewolf had tried to use him as a murder weapon. That werewolf was now the Wolf Leader. The only thing that had kept Nate alive throughout the last six years was the knowledge that one day he would pay Nevan back for what he had tried to do. No matter what Cal might say, one day Nate would look that bastard in the eye before he took his revenge.

But the thought that Violet might be a werewolf didn’t repulse him. On the contrary. It excited him. Aroused him. It called to something dark and primeval inside him. Something he thought had gone forever when Cal drove that knife into his heart. Something he didn’t want to explore. Because, if he explored it, he would have to name it.

Violet had triggered not only his protective instincts, but so much more. A memory, a longing, stirred deep within him. A younger man’s sweet dreams of romantic love coupled with a healthy dose of good old-fashioned lust. Both were things he had never thought to feel again. Yet here he was lying beside Violet with an erection so rock solid his zipper was in danger of leaving a permanent imprint on his penis as a reminder. And for a werewolf? He shook his head. If only he’d known. All these years and all it had needed to restore his manhood was a little wolf porn.

At that inopportune moment, Violet stirred. A soft sigh murmured against Nate’s cheek, jacking his already iron-hard cock to even more uncomfortable proportions. Her eyes opened slowly. Confusion blurred their depths for a few seconds, then she smiled and Nate’s heart faltered. This is what it would feel like to wake up next to Violet every day. To see her head on the pillow next to his, that smile in her eyes, to be able to kiss those sweet lips, draw her close, relieve the aching demon between his thighs...

“I’m hungry.”

She means for food, he told himself sternly, forcing his mind away from his raging erection. “I’ll have Daniel organize breakfast.”

Daniel must have been anticipating their needs, and before long, they were seated at the table in the salon with a choice of hot and cold dishes spread before them. Nate was conscious of Violet studying his face as they ate.

“What’s our story to be?” she asked eventually. “Are we pretending I’m your girlfriend?”

“I hadn’t thought about it. Does it matter?”

“Surely your friends and family will wonder what’s going on if you turn up with me at your side and no explanation.”

Friends and family? He didn’t have any. The other members of the band were about as close as he came to either, and they wouldn’t interrogate him. They had never questioned each other. “Pretend girlfriend. Close friend. Whichever you choose.”

A slight frown furrowed her smooth brow. “All this—” she waved a hand to indicate the plane “—I can’t just accept your generosity indefinitely, Nate. You have to let me do something in return.”

He quirked a brow at her. “What did you have in mind?”

A soft pink blush stained her cheeks as his meaning hit her, and she gave a little gasp before plowing on. “I don’t know because I don’t know what I can do.” Her brow wrinkled. “It’s hard to explain. I don’t know what my qualifications are. I could be an artist or an attorney. Maybe I could clean your apartment or cook for you?” Her eyes clouded. “If I know how to cook.”

Nate caught hold of her hand. “Violet—” he waved his other hand, just as she had done “—all this means nothing. I have enough money to care for you until your memory comes back or we find your family. In the meantime, relax and enjoy it. I’m going to. Being on the road is lonely and boring as hell.” An image of his bandmates came into his mind. Boring as hell? Maybe not the first words that sprang to mind when describing the phenomenon that was Beast. “I’m glad to have your company.”

Violet’s expression remained doubtful, but she ate the rest of her meal in silence. It was a huge meal, Nate observed, consisting mostly of meat, eggs and berries. She shuddered at his offer of coffee, drinking water instead. Her choice of food and the quantity she ate seemed to support Nate’s suspicion that she could be a werewolf. Or maybe she adhered to some diet he was unaware of. Or she had allergies. Perhaps he should stop second-guessing and do what he had said...just enjoy her company.

As Violet met his eyes and smiled, Nate decided finding pleasure in being with her wasn’t going to be a hardship. On the contrary, he had a feeling Violet’s company might prove to be addictive.

* * *

Since their arrival in London a few hours earlier, Violet felt like she had been plunged into a whirlwind of light and sound and movement. A car and driver had met them at the airport and driven them through busy streets to Nate’s luxurious apartment long enough for him to prepare for the tour. He had shown Violet to a guest room, where she had showered and selected an expensive outfit from one of her new suitcases. The unknown person who had been sent by Nate’s manager to shop for her had done an impeccable job.

“How did they know my size?” she asked Nate as she turned to study the fit of the tight black jeans in a full-length mirror in the hall.

“I sent Ged some details.” The look in his eyes as they traveled up her legs and skimmed her ass left her feeling slightly breathless. “I guess I must be better at describing the female form than I thought.”

His hair was still damp from the shower, and his chest and feet were bare. He wore hip-skimming jeans and had a towel slung around his neck. Violet was suddenly very aware of his potent masculinity. Of his upper body that was a masterpiece of well-defined, taut chest muscles and superchiseled abs that cried out to be touched. The thought made her cheeks flame, even though she couldn’t drag her eyes away.

As he lifted the towel to his hair, his sharp-edged biceps and sculpted stomach tightened. His hips were so well defined that the sharp V line of his muscles drew her eye downward. Her imagination ran wild as she pictured running her hands over that broad chest, exploring those ridges of muscle, sliding lower... Raw, untamed need pulsed through her. Every cell in her body was achingly aware of him and, even though her memory was gone, Violet knew she had never felt like this before.

Aware of Nate’s eyes on her face, she forced her thoughts away from such dangerous territory and back to practical matters. “What happens now?”

He grimaced. “People imagine that life on tour is glamorous. But it isn’t. It’s hard, boring work. In fact, it feels like Groundhog Day.” He frowned. “That doctor said you needed to take things easy. Even though we’ll be traveling, I intend to make sure you do that.”

Violet shook her head, a slight smile trembling on her lips. “Whatever brought me to those woods on that night, it didn’t just bring me an encounter with a werewolf. It also brought me a meeting with you, so I can’t regret it.”

His expression was slightly bemused as he smiled down at her. “What does that mean?”

“I’m not sure. I don’t understand it myself. I just don’t think I’ve ever had this feeling before, of someone looking out for me the way you do.”

Nate laughed. “Having lost your memory, maybe you wouldn’t know that?”

“Maybe.” Violet didn’t know where to begin. How could she explain that the loss of her memory appeared to have also enhanced her senses? Or was it Nate’s nearness that was having that effect on her? When she was with him, her awareness was on high alert. Was he the trigger that sent her senses into overdrive? Or had this heightened perception been caused by the bump on her head? All she knew was everything felt more. As though adrenaline was pumping out of control through her body, causing colors to be overly bright, scents to be overly strong, sounds to be overly loud.

She didn’t know if it had occurred to Nate to wonder, as she had, why she was in those woods. The most likely explanation was that she had been at that party. Certainly the man called Roko had recognized her. And he was a werewolf. All of the people at that party had been werewolves. Does that mean I’m a werewolf? She believed it was likely. More than likely. Why else would she have been at that party?

But what did it feel like to be a werewolf? Ever since she had stood in the shadows and witnessed the fight, Violet had tried to reach inside herself and answer that question. So far the only response she had received had been silence. If Violet did have an inner wolf, she was in hiding, cowering deep inside and refusing to show herself.

“Ready?” Nathan was pulling a white T-shirt over his head, drawing her back to the here and now.

His expression seemed to ask another question, as though he was attempting to delve into her thoughts. But how could she confide in Nate—a man who killed werewolves in a brutal way—her fear that she might be a werewolf? Ever since she had opened her eyes in the forest and found him leaning over her, she seemed to be living through a dream sequence. Reality had taken a back seat. Except, of course, she had no idea what her reality looked like. It was only when she looked into Nate’s dark eyes that she got any sense of reassurance or well-being. He was what was keeping her going, putting one foot in front of the other, taking that next breath. Without him, she might just give up and crumple into a heap.

Placing her hand in his felt natural. “As I’ll ever be.”