Stranded with a Cajun Werewolf Read Free Page B

many times he’d been shot, but he knew how much it hurt.
    Maybe there’d be something in the kit to help with the pain. He studied the contents: gauze, tweezers, little packets of something, and tape. As he retrieved the supplies he tried to remember how he’d seen doctors in the field treat the wounds. Clean, extract the bullet, bandage. Was it really that simple?
    After he let Gin back inside, he washed his hands and then began cleaning Kendall’s wound. What had she done to get herself shot? Surely, it had to be related to the man she’d said was after her.
    Burke checked her pulse. Finding a steady rhythm, he reached for the tweezers and the lights went out.
    “Knew that was gonna happen,” he mumbled and reached into the nightstand for a flashlight.
    Kendall felt safe and warm for the first time in months. With him to protect her she had nothing to fear. She was certain of it. As certain as she was that there was no way she could let herself be mated to that creep Carl Stienhurst. But she wouldn't think of that now.
    Now she wanted to concentrate on the stranger who calmed her soul. Though it was dark and she couldn't read his face, she knew he was looking at her. She could feel his eyes on her, as real as any caress. His quiet movements and gentle touch reassured her. The soft words he whispered made her crave his protection.
    “Don't leave me,” she begged, pride gone. When had her voice gotten so husky?
    “I won't,” he replied. He was close. “You're safe.” Somewhere behind her a dog barked loud and furiously, startling her from her serenity. “It's okay, he won't hurt you.”
    Something about his voice soothed her. The steady timber, the utter calm. His promise to stay with her loosened the strangle hold of fear.
    “I’ll be right back.” He moved away, she heard his footsteps on the floor and then the flick of a match. The freezing ground numbed her shoulders, her back.
    “So cold,” she whispered.

    She heard a shuffling sound and then a small pop. A tiny flame flickered to life, dancing as it lapped at the wood. Her savior stood over the fire. He held a long stick in his hands, watching, waiting. Then, as if satisfied with the fire’s progress, he glanced at her.
    Startled by his masculine beauty, she sucked in a painful breath. Firelight glinted off his dark eyes and shadows played across his arrestingly handsome features highlighting a strong jaw and kissable lips. His hair was golden in the warm light and long, almost brushing his shoulders.
    Electricity gathered in the space, filling it with an odd, but not entirely scary sort of tension.
    He knelt by the fire and rearranged the logs. She watched his easy movements. Who was this man? So big. So quiet and self assured. Ready and able to battle the elements.
    There was another snap-pop and then a steady blaze lit the room. Kendall glanced up at the cavernous ceiling. A stone room with jagged walls surrounded them. A cave…it had to be.
    She tried to sit up but a shooting pain sliced through her back. Crying out, she sagged against the hard ground and closed her eyes.
    “Don’t try to move.” His voice came from the darkness and when she opened her eyes he was right there with her, stretched out along side of her, sharing his warmth. She concentrated on breathing in and out, ignoring the pain.
    It helped to stare at his lips. They gave her something to focus on. And for one blissful minute, the world fell away.
    His head dipped toward hers and she closed her eyes again, silently willing him to kiss her, to take the pain away. To wash away the fear and replace it with happiness and hope. Somehow she knew that this man…he was not like the others. He wasn’t like her father. He wasn’t like the man she was supposed to be mated to. He was different. Powerful.
    Cunning. Caring.

    * * *
Burke returned to her side a minute later with a collection of candles.
    He checked his cell phone signal again before turning it off to conserve the