Stranded with a Cajun Werewolf Read Free Page A

tempted by a damsel.
    He couldn’t allow himself to succumb to another woman who would leave him and take his heart with her. Who would look at him like the freak of nature that he was. A man’s pride could only take so much. And his had been far too bruised for too many years.
    He could tend her. He would tend her. But that’s where it’d stop. He wouldn’t look at her pretty eyes or cute nose. He’d ignore her long silky hair. He wouldn’t notice her eyebrows, the creaminess of her cheeks or her thighs. He would remain impartial, like a doctor tending his patient.
    Clenching and unclenching his fists, he stepped to the edge of the bed. He brushed her hair aside and noticed a purple bruise forming below the smear of blood at her hairline. Was that from her accident or God forbid, something… someone else?
    He reached for the land line and punched number five. On the fourth ring Doctor Elijah Cooper gave a brisk hello. Burke made it a point to know a healer in every region he traveled to. Elijah was a big black wolf with a hearty laugh and a medical degree from Johns Hopkins among other places.
    “Dr. Cooper, Burke Deveraux here. I hate to call so late in the day but I’ve got a bit of a problem.”
    A human problem.
    After he explained about Kendall’s accident he asked for advice. Between the blizzard and the tree there was no way Elijah or anyone else was coming to Kendall’s aid.
    Which left him.
    “Keep her warm. Resting. Inspect her for injuries and clean them the best you can.
    Wake her up a couple of times and check for –“
    Burke headed to the kitchen for a notepad. So much for his quiet, uneventful vacation.
    He scribbled more notes and thanked the doctor, secretly praying that Kendall’s injuries were superficial.
    When he pressed number one on the speed dial, expecting to hear his brother’s voice, the line was dead. So much for touching base.
    He strode into the bathroom for a warm washcloth and the first aid kit he’d seen in the linen closet when he’d first moved in six years ago.
    With great care he dabbed at the blood on her forehead and checked her hairline for any more serious damage.
    As he pulled his jacket away from her, he tried to ignore the way the material molded to the generous swell of her breasts. The sweet scent of her blood swirled around him. He grit his teeth and averted his gaze for a moment, struggling to detach himself from the situation.
    Blood soaked the right shoulder and collar of her sweatshirt. He took a steadying breath and reached for the scissors in the kit. Check her for injuries, Cooper had said.
    Easier said than done.

    His finger and thumb hardly fit through the hole and for a moment he considered letting his claws grow just enough to slice the fabric away. But he couldn’t risk her waking up and seeing his mutant hands, half werewolf, half human.
    He’d made his ‘no humans’ rule for a very good reason. He didn’t date humans. Didn’t kiss humans. Didn’t sleep with humans and certainly didn’t let himself feel anything for them.
    He couldn’t afford to.
    Managing as best he could, he cut the gray material and then ripped it apart with his hands. The sound brought back memories of the occasional tryst and overwhelming passion that he’d succumbed to in the past.
    Not this time. This time the beautiful woman in his bed was a patient. A human patient. And nothing more.
    As gently as he could, he checked her for other injuries. Try as he might, he couldn’t stop noticing delicate little details about her. The shape of her collar bone, the dewy softness of her skin, the scalloped edge of her pale blue bra. How did doctors remain impartial? She wasn’t a bunch of body parts.
    She was a lovely flesh and blood woman. Right now the red smear on her shoulder gave him cause for concern. A cut of some sort?
    Slowly, he rolled her over to investigate the blood on her shoulder.
    Damn.
    Burke knew a gunshot wound when he saw one. He’d lost track of how