Warrior Read Free Page A

together and howl. Two hours earlier and no one would have been drunk enough to run off at the mouth. Two hours later and they would have been too drunk to care who came through the door.”
    “I doubt that you ever get that drunk,” Eden said matter-of-factly. She braced a sack of supplies on her hip as she unlocked the truck’s door. “You’re too disciplined.”
    Nevada gave Eden a sharp look, but before he could ask her how she had known that about him, he saw a huge, dark shadow moving inside the cab of the weather-beaten truck.
    “Good God – is that a wolf?” Nevada demanded.
    Eden smiled. “You’re mostly right. The rest is husky.” The truck’s door grated as it opened. “Hello, Baby. You ready to stretch your legs a bit?”
    A black tail waved and sounds of greeting that were a cross between a growl and a muffled yip came from the wolf’s thickly furred throat. The instant Nevada moved toward the truck, the sounds became a definite growl and the tail ceased waving.
    “It’s all right, Baby. Nevada is a friend.”
    The growls ended. Yellow eyes looked at Nevada for a comprehensive instant. Then, accepting the stranger, Baby leaped to the ground.
    “Baby?” Nevada asked dryly. “He’s got to go at least a hundred and twenty pounds.”
    “One hundred and thirty-three. But he started small. I found him in a hunter’s trap when he was half-grown. The leg healed almost as good as new, but not quite. In the wild, the difference would have slowly killed him.”
    “So you kept him.”
    Eden made a murmurous sound of agreement as she leaned into the passenger side of the truck to deposit supplies.
    “Do you make a habit of collecting and taming wild animals?”
    “No.” Eden stacked two sacks where a passenger’s feet would have gone. “I’m a wildlife biologist, not a zookeeper. If I find wild animals that are hurt, I heal them and turn them loose again. If I kept them, there’s nothing I could give them that would compensate for the loss of their freedom.”
    Silently Nevada handed over the sacks he was carrying. As he did, Eden noticed that he had cut his left hand in the fight. She dumped the sacks in the truck and took Nevada’s hand between her own.
    “You’re hurt!”
    Nevada looked down into Eden’s eyes. In the fading light of day her eyes were almost green, almost gold, almost amber, almost blue gray, a shimmer of colors watching him, as though every season, every time, lived behind her eyes. Her hands on his skin had the healing warmth of summer, the softness of spring sunshine. He wanted nothing more than to bend down and take her mouth, her body, sinking into her until he couldn’t remember what it was like to be cold.
    But that would only make the inevitable return of ice all the more painful.
    “I’m fine,” he said, removing his hand. Eden took Nevada’s hand again. The renewed touch of her skin sent hunger searching through every bit of his big body, making his muscles clench with need.
    “Nevada,” she said, remembering what the bartender had called him. “That’s your name, isn’t it?”
    Nevada nodded curtly, trying to ignore the exquisite heat of Eden’s breath as she examined his hand again.
    “You’re bleeding, Nevada. Come with me to the motel room. I’ll clean the cut and—”
    “No.”
    His rough refusal surprised her. She looked up into eyes as cold and bleak as a winter moon.
    “It’s the least I can do to thank you for being a gentleman,” Eden said softly.
    “Take me to your motel room?” Nevada asked, his tone sardonic.
    “You know that isn’t what I meant.”
    “Yes. But I mean it.” Nevada freed his left hand, hesitated, then let out his breath with a whispered curse. His fingertip skimmed the curve of Eden’s lower lip with aching slowness. “Stay away from me, Eden. I’m a warrior, not a knight in shining armor, and I want you more than all the men in that bar put together.”
    Abruptly Nevada turned and walked away, leaving Eden