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Wooing Wynter Page 4
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Attempting to continue toward Magic after she’d changed into a wolf was her only choice. She couldn’t wake up the boys, and she couldn’t carry them without arms. Even with hands, she would never have been able to take them both.
Since leaving them alone for even a moment was unthinkable, Wynter had done the only thing she could. She’d done her best to drive, even though she had no business behind the wheel in her condition.
The blue car passed, and Jonah pulled out after it. He didn’t do anything suspicious as he drove behind the other vehicle. He did turn on the radio and then changed the station to some god awful modern music that made her head ache.
She stood on the seat for what felt like forever before her legs gave out and she fell. Exhausted, she stared at Jonah as he drove. Her eyelids grew heavy, and she started to nod off. Shaking her head, she tried to stand again when he glanced her way.
“Don’t bother fighting it. We’re in Magic.” He braked to a stop and put the car in park and turned off the ignition.
The sound of voices grew closer, and Wynter fought to listen. Either she had been more worn-out than she thought, or her life really had taken a turn toward the bizarre.
“I’m telling you, she’s a shifter. She has two cubs with her, and she appears to be ill, or maybe she’s just exhausted.” Geno frowned when he glanced at her. “Whatever it is, the darker mask around her eyes appears to sag beneath them.” And it’s obvious she’s also been crying.”
“A wolf shifter? What do we know about wolves?”
The sound of another male’s voice sounded closer. It was obvious the other person was coming their way.
“A shifter is a shifter,” a woman said. “Our grandparents have told us that shifting is similar for all of us. All she needs to do is concentrate on shifting back into her human self.”
A gorgeous girl, whose thin face didn’t match her full-figured body, came into view. Her dark hair flowed around her shoulders in soft waves. Her startling, violet eyes reminded Wynter of purple pansies.
“Hi! I’m Tabitha, but my friends call me Tabby.” The woman rested her arms on the window. “What’s the matter, can’t you shift back?”
Shift back? I don’t know how I got this way in the first place.
Wynter shook her head. How could she tell her she had never shifted before?
“Haven’t you shifted before this?”
Well, that was easy. Wynter shook her head again.
“Okay.” Tabby closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and then met her gaze. “Think about your human body. What does it feel like to be you? Think about your legs, your arms, how do they feel, how do they look?”
Wynter closed her eyes and did what the woman suggested. She imagined the sensation of her hands moving over her skin, the length of her legs, and her too-long hair caressing her bare shoulders.
“That’s it. Hold that thought.” Wynter opened her eyes and met the other woman’s gaze, just before Tabby looked over her shoulder, her eyes narrowed. “Stop gawking and get out of the car, you.”
“Oh, my goodness!” Wynter brought her hands up to cover herself. “Why am I naked? I wasn’t naked when I changed into a wolf.” Her face burned, and she wanted to crawl under the seat.
Geno, still just as handsome to her human self, approached the car, his eyes closed. He unbuttoned his shirt and took it off, baring a set of muscular pecs and ripped abs that almost made her mouth water. The heat she’d felt before, returned with a vengeance and she tamped it down. She could not think of such a young man that way. She was no tiger or mountain lion, or whatever it was that they called older women who dated young guys.
“The term is a cougar,” Tabby said and grinned at her surprised expression. “Didn’t realize you said that out loud, huh?” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “You wouldn’t be—a cougar, that is,” the other woman said as she glanced over her shoulder and took the shirt he offered. “Geno is a lot older than he looks.”
“He’s not that much older, I’m sure,” Wynter said as she took the shirt and slipped it on. His scent wafted up from the garment, and she took a deep breath. God, he smelled good. She wanted to pull the shirt over her face and breathe him in. What was wrong with her? She felt like a dog in heat, and given what had happened to her, that probably wasn’t far off the mark. “Thank you, Geno.”
“You’re welcome, my lady.” He bowed and straightened, his eyes still closed. “Is it safe to open my eyes now?”
Wow. A true gentleman? She looked him up and down for a moment before she nodded. He was too young for her. Even if he were as old as forty, which she doubted, she would still be eight years older than him. She didn’t date younger men. Period.
“Well?” Tabby prompted as she sat, staring at Geno.
“What?” Wynter glanced at Tabby. The other woman gestured to the handsome man who stood behind her, looking good enough to eat. Her heart raced, and she licked her lips. “Oh, right.” She nodded when she remembered what he said.
“He can’t hear your head rattle, you know,” Tabitha said with a knowing grin. “You need to say something. He’s not going to open his eyes without an affirmative answer from you.”
“I guess I’m decent now. You can open your eyes.”
“I have no doubt that you were more than decent before, madam.” He bowed again.
Why did he seem to be on his best behavior?
“As I said before, I am Geno, Warrior of Zolon, and I put myself at your service until we can reunite you with your husband.”
“Oh, well, thank you.” Wynter brought her hand to her chest, expecting the same old pain she’d felt whenever someone mentioned Ben. But there was none. If anything, the realization made her feel worse than the usual pain caused by her grief. Guilt flooded her at the realization that there was no more heartache at the mention of her dead husband.
She looked up at Geno and immediately felt the familiar guilt. How could she let Ben go so quickly? She’d loved him so much when they were first married. For a year and a half, Wynter had loved him more than life itself. But that night, when he’d left their house after she’d... Wynter shook her head. She hated thinking about things she couldn’t change.
Ben had been the first man who had seen her, not a frumpy, forty-something with too much fat and too little future.
At least that’s what he said at first, a little voice inside her said. She shook her head, refusing to hear anymore. She wouldn’t hear more. She couldn’t face it. Not now.
Usually, the guilt caused by the memories of that night brought her to tears. But not this time. Perhaps she was finally healing. Either that or her hormones were in overdrive over a man almost young enough to be her son. There was something so deliciously wrong about that.
“Stop flirting with me. I’m too old for you.” She did her best to scowl at Geno. She knew what happened to overweight women who fell in love with handsome men who flattered them to distraction. It was nothing good, and that was a fact.
“I’m older than I look.” When he smiled, his eyes creased at the corners, giving him an appearance of maturity.
Still, he didn’t fool Wynter. No man who looked the way Geno did could be a day over thirty-five.
“Hey.” Another man walked up beside Geno and slapped him on the back. It must have been his brother. They resembled each other too much to have been friends. “I didn’t know you’d gotten back already.” Did you find who you were looking for?”
“Yes.” He waved to the young man who had driven her the rest of the way to Magic. “He’s right there.” Turning back to Wynter, he said, “This is my son, Reno.” Geno glanced at the man next to him. “Reno, this is...” He shifted his gaze back to her. “I’m sorry, lady. I fear I don’t know your name.”
“Wynter. My name is Wynter Larsen.” She shifted her gaze between them. “And I don’t believe he’s your son.” Way to go! Insult the person who helped you in your hour of need.
“Believe it. I’m over one-hundred of
your years old.” He tilted his head with a grin. “The people in this town can surprise you with the facts of their lives. You should probably try to get used to it.”
“Bull puckies.” Wynter slapped a hand over her mouth. She might think he was full of crap, but that didn’t give her an excuse to act less than the lady her grandmother had brought her up to be.
“What are bull puckies?” Geno chuckled, and the sound warmed her straight to her soul—the soul she once suspected had died along with her husband.
Goosebumps rose on her arms and legs, and once again, heat settled low in her middle. What was wrong with her?
There was no way the strange young man could attract her so much that she couldn’t seem to think about anything but sex.
I am not a cougar! Nope. I’m a wolf. She suppressed a hysterical little giggle.
“Those crazy-ass scientists might have changed me into some kind of werewolf, but there’s no way I’m going to believe that you’re more than twice my age, no matter what you say.”
“What do you mean?” Reno frowned down at her as though she was a few fries short of a kid’s meal. “What crazy scientists changed you into a werewolf? Weren’t you always a shapeshifter?”
“Always a shapeshifter? Of course not! People aren’t born with the ability to shift their shape. Fanatical scientists created them in secret labs where they experiment on children.” She gasped and spun around to face the car. “The boys! I don’t believe I forgot about the boys!” She stood rooted to the spot for a moment, fearing what she might find in the backseat. “Something’s wrong with them. I haven’t been able to wake them up since they changed, and that was sometime yesterday.”
She lunged for the car as Tabby stepped away. Wynter threw open the back door to get to the boys. They lay sleeping, their bodies so still she could have cried. They looked dead. “No, no, no.” She shook her head and brought her hand to her mouth as tears filled her eyes.
“They’re breathing.” Geno grasped her shoulders and gently pulled her away from the vehicle. “Leave them there for now. We’ll take them to my ship in a bit. I have a medical bay there, where we can examine them.” He glanced at one of his sons, and some kind of silent communication passed between them before the younger man nodded, spun around, and headed for the garage.
“Look, their mother charged me with their safety, and frankly, I don’t know you people from Adam.” She shifted her gaze between them. “No offense, but why should I trust any of you?”
Chapter Six
“YOU SHOULD TRUST US because you have no other choice at the moment.” Geno crossed his arms and raised a brow. “Is there anyone else here stepping forward to see why your children aren’t waking up?”
Geno clenched his fists at his sides. He wanted nothing more than to take her into his arms, smooth back her gorgeous red-brown hair, and convince her that she could trust him. But he couldn’t bring himself to touch her. No matter how much he might want her, the woman belonged to another. He had no right.
“You should probably take my shooter, Dad. It would be faster,” Reno said as he walked around the car to look in through the window.
A shooter was a vehicle his four oldest sons had designed to carry them through town when they first arrived before they’d purchased Earth vehicles. They built them using enlarged teacups, saucers, and teaspoons. It resembled an amusement park ride, but with their ion propulsion units, the devices could outrun the fastest funny car on the circuit.
Tabby stepped away when the man Geno sent away, exited the garage in the distance, and called to her.
“Coming,” she waved at him before she smiled at Wynter. “That’s my fiancé, Deno. He’s also one of Geno’s sons. You might be surprised to learn that Geno has six sons.”
“Six?” She met Geno’s gaze, her eyes narrowed. “You expect me to believe you have six sons, and two of them are in their twenties?”
“Well, two of them are still adolescents, but yes. I do have six sons.” He gestured to Reno. “And he’s thirty-eight.”
“Thirty-eight?” She looked at Reno and narrowed her eyes. “Are you the oldest?” She spared a glance at Reno.
“I am the oldest, yes.” Reno bowed his head. He looked like a slightly younger version of Geno, only his eyes were light blue, and his hair was a shocking blond that was almost white.
“So, you’re over one-hundred, and now I’m a werewolf. I can’t believe any of this.” She shoved her fingers through her hair before shifting her gaze back to Geno. Her face paled, and her eyes rolled back in her head just before her knees buckled.
Geno caught her before she hit the ground. Her head fell against his arm, and her delicious scent assaulted his senses once again. He tried not to breathe too deeply as he held her close. Guilt swept through him. He held another man’s mate in his arms. He shouldn’t enjoy holding her so much, and he had no business being so close to her.
Why not? An insidious voice made itself heard. Where is her neglectful mate? He should be with her, protecting her, loving her. It is your right to take an unprotected woman. Take her while you can.
He stared down at Wynter’s colorless face. Geno’s heart raced while the rumblings of his inner beast enticed him. Never before had he been so tempted to lure a female away from another man.
No! He couldn’t do that. He wouldn’t do that. It went against everything his father had told him and against everything he’d taught his sons. How could he respect women, revere women, if he treated them as though they were possessions, something one could steal from another?
Wynter was not a possession. She was not his to do with as he pleased, and he would not attempt to take her from another male. She deserved so much more than he could give her anyway. Hell, he wasn’t even certain he could give her his love. He lusted after her, that was a given, but he didn’t know if he could give her his heart. It was no longer his to bestow.
“We must get her to the ship as quickly as possible.” Her intoxicating scent wafted around him, enticing him as he held her tight. His body ached with need. Her soft form, pressed against his, did little to assuage the tiger’s desire. If anything, it ratcheted it higher. “Someone get the cubs from the back seat. Let’s get them out of this heat and into the ship.”
Geno almost didn’t recognize his voice. It was deep and gravelly, as though he’d half shifted. He hadn’t though. His hands still had the fingers of his human side, even if they had the strange coloring of the Earth humans.
Pinkish-tan skin covered his arms, even though his tiger had taken control of his voice. Dark hair dusted his arms and hands, and his short, blunt nails were clean and straight. Though he was not his natural color, he liked the way his arms appeared so dark compared to her smooth and creamy skin.
“Are you okay? Would you like me to take her?” Reno rested his hand on his arm.
Geno growled low in his chest. “Leave her to me!”
“Whatever you say.” His son backed away and held up his hands as though in surrender. He glanced at his brothers. “This might be the last straw, you know. If she has a mate...” Pausing, he nodded toward Geno’s precious burden. “We could lose him sooner rather than later. He will never survive the loss of a takana.”
“Stop talking about me as though I’m not here.” He growled again. “She has a mate. Isn’t that obvious? She has cubs.”
“We can see that. But you had cubs and no mate.” Xeno, the older of his first set of twins, pulled one of the cubs from the car. “Plus, unlike you, I heard her say someone charged her with their safety. A mother would have taken on that responsibility as a matter of course. No one would have had to charge her with it.” He shifted his gaze to the small cub cradled in his arms. “I think she’s an aunt, or possibly a friend of the mother. One thing is obvious, though—at least to me because I have gone through it myself. Someone has experimented on all of them.”
Canting his head, Geno peered down at Wynter. Tracks of injection sites ran along the insides of both
arms. Purple bruises had formed around the tiny wounds along the thin lines of her veins.
Her head lolled to the side as he shifted to get a better look at her abused flesh. Her skin was nearly translucent and pallid, as though she’d suffered a major blood loss, further evidenced by the slight tinge of blue around her lips and her labored breathing.
Auburn lashes, rested against the dark circles under eyes that quivered and twitched beneath her delicate eyelids. She moaned and then stiffened before her eyes flew open.
“No! You can’t be dead. No!” She fought him, even as he tried to keep her from hurting herself.
“Where is that damned shooter?” His arms tightened around Wynter. Geno hoped to keep her from falling out of his arms as she wriggled and fought.
“Let me go! Let me go! Where are you taking me? Don’t tie me up!” She struggled for a few more moments before she settled down a bit, and tears slid down her cheeks. “Please, don’t tell me he’s dead,” she sobbed. “He can’t be dead! It’s my fault. It’s all my fault.”
Tears ran down her cheeks as she finally stopped struggling and settled down, her head resting against his shoulder.
Geno sighed, thankful that she’d finally stopped thrashing in his arms. At first, he thought she’d awakened and had been fighting him. It was more than clear that she’d been reliving a memory that had terrified her beyond reason. Holding Wynter while she fought him, had been like trying to confine a family of rabid beavers struggling in a sack.
He’d barely finished that thought when Xeno’s twin, Deno, stopped beside him in the odd-looking conveyance they called a shooter. All four of his eldest sons had one. Several years ago, when they’d first arrived in Magic, they had little money and no way to purchase a vehicle and, out of necessity, had designed the shooters to get around town.
After procuring damaged dishes from a local diner, they enlarged them using one of the mini-maximizers from their ship. Afterward, Geno’s sons used parts they salvaged from their crashed vessel. They made the vehicles they could use in town when outsiders weren’t nosing around.