In Graywolf’s Hands by Marie Ferrarella

Author:Marie Ferrarella [Ferrarella, Marie]
Format: mobi
Tags: Suspense
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2002-06-22T05:00:00+00:00

She never slept more than a few hours at a time anymore. It was because she never knew when she’d have to bounce up, alert and ready to go. She called them catnaps and made the most of them, training herself to feel refreshed whenever she woke up. It was a case of mind over matter.

When she opened her eyes, night still littered the corners of the room. It took her only a moment to orient herself. She was in Lukas’s living room. They’d fallen asleep on the floor, she realized, too exhausted to summon the strength even to make it to his bedroom.

The heavy weight she felt sealing her in place was his arm. It was draped across her chest, not possessively so much as protectively.

She tried not to dwell on that.

God, what had she been thinking, letting this happen? She moved her head, looking around, trying to find out a shape that would turn out to be her clothes. Where were they? She hadn’t exactly been giving them her full attention when he’d undressed her.

This wasn’t like her. She should have left hours ago, Lydia upbraided herself.

She didn’t want to be here when he woke up. She hadn’t the foggiest idea what to say to him. Holding her breath, she eased herself out from beneath his arm. The light hair on his arm tickled her skin, sensitizing it as she wiggled free. She could feel goose bumps forming.

Probably just the cold, she told herself. Rising to her knees, she wondered if her legs were going to be able to support her once she tried to stand. Taking no chances, she braced her hand against the edge of the sofa and slowly rose. Her legs felt like day old Jell-O.

Damn, what had happened to her last night? she wondered, her annoyance growing. And why had she let it happen?

Simple, because she’d had no say in the matter. It was like standing in the path of a storm. Lydia felt as if she’d been broadsided by a force far greater than anything she’d ever encountered.

She didn’t like the fact that she’d succumbed so completely. It tarnished her own self-image. She was supposed to be bigger than that, stronger than that. After all, he was just a man.

Granted, he was better-looking than most, more exciting in a sexy, turn-of-the-last-century kind of way, but that wasn’t supposed to matter to her. She was an FBI special agent, for God’s sake. That was supposed to mean something, wasn’t it?

It was supposed to mean that she didn’t turn into a plate of mush because some heart-throb heart surgeon kissed her.

She spotted her clothes strewn all over the floor next to the coffee table.

The sooner she got out of here, she told herself, scooping up her bra and blouse, the better.

“Planning to sneak off?”

She spun around, startled, holding the clothes she’d gathered against her. Lukas was propped up on one elbow, looking at her. She blew out a shaky breath, grasping at bravado.

“You’re lucky I didn’t have a gun on me.

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