Logan followed a trail toward the western edge of Shaw’s property. He had woken at dawn, strangely refreshed, the barest memory of a dream tickling at the edge of his mind. Something about that enigmatic scent, and the woman it belonged to. Suddenly filled with a fierce restlessness he had let himself roam, enjoying the burn in his muscles as he found his way out to a previously unexplored area of Shaw’s land.
Damn, the grounds of what Shaw called his “country house” could give the Xavier mansion a run for its money. Logan’s lips quirked in amusement at the thought of the two men comparing the size of their...estates. Of course Shaw only had a helipad and not a whole hidden jet hangar, so Chuck had him there.
Logan’s amusement suddenly vanished. There it was again...that scent, but stronger than ever. Fresh, even. His attention sharpened, pulse quickening and feral senses coming to the forefront as he increased his pace, inhaling deeply as he padded silently down the path.
He topped a rise and was surprised to find the scent and sound of horses. A small stable nestled in the vale between two hills, a beat-up old Ford pickup pulled up in front.
Logan found himself smiling involuntarily. He liked horses. Being around the big warm-hearted animals soothed him somehow, and when Xavier had convinced him to give it a try he had been surprised to find that riding came as naturally to him as walking.
The last thing he needed was to be caught sneaking around. He walked openly into the stable yard, but it seemed deserted. He pushed open the stable door, his eyes quickly adjusting to the dimmer light as the smell of horse and hay tickled his nose. A gray gelding whickered softly from a stall on his right, and Logan absently rubbed his nose. The gelding nuzzled closer, his rough wet lips searching Logan’s palm for a treat.
“Sorry, bub. I got nothin’ for you.” The horse’s snuffling did not entirely mask the gasp of surprise from a stall at the end at the sound of his voice. Logan waited, giving her time to emerge, but everything was silent and still. He smiled to himself. He knew she was there, that amazing fresh clean scent of her was crisp in the air even among the stable smells.
He took his time, greeting the other horses as he ambled slowly down to the end stall. He stood outside the stall door, just drinking in that alluring scent for a minute before looking in.
For a moment he was surprised, thinking he had been mistaken. The stall seemed empty. Then he caught the sound of the slightest breath. He leaned even further over the half-door of the stall and saw her, flattened against the front wall, her eyes shut tight, apparently trying to make herself invisible.
“We playin’ hide ‘n seek?”
Logan chuckled out loud as she jumped, her eyes springing open, color pinkening her cheeks. His amusement faded, however, as she scrambled away, backing up along the wall until she was as far away from him as she could get at the other side of the stall. That alluring scent of her was tainted now with fear.
His eyes swept over her assessingly. Damn, she looked as enticing as she smelled. She was younger than he had expected, maybe in her 20’s. Slender but with lush curves, dressed for riding in jeans, a button-down shirt, and thin leather gloves. Her ivory skin was tinged by her blush, and auburn hair with two unusual white streaks fell around her shoulders.
As he looked her over, she reached for a riding crop on the wall, pulling it off the hook and gripping it tightly in her gloved hand. Damn, she sure was jumpy.
“Relax, darlin’. I’m a guest of Shaw’s.”
Her deep brown eyes narrowed, as the scent of her anger rose to eclipse the scent of fear. She held the riding crop in front of her defensively.
“I’m familiar with Sebastian’s guests,” she stated, her voice low and husky with a hint of a Southern drawl. “So forgive me if I don’t find that reassuring.”
He smothered a smile at her sassiness. “Fair enough,” he said, taking care to keep his voice neutral. He leaned back, still keeping his elbows on the stall door, and the tenseness of her posture seemed to lessen a bit. He watched as her pulse seemed to steady, her breath evening out as she realized he wasn’t going to harm her.
“I haven’t seen you around before,” he ventured. He had marked her use of Shaw’s first name. “You work for Shaw?”
“You could say that.” Her fear had dissipated, and her anger had faded to irritation at being cornered. He watched in amusement as she dusted off her jeans and tugged at the cuffs of her gloves, apparently trying to look like she had things to do in the empty stall. She carefully hung the crop back on the wall. Finally out of excuses, she looked back up at him.
Seeing the mischief in his eyes, she huffed in annoyance. She looked pointedly at the stall door he was lounging on, and then back at him. “Do you mind?”
He smiled lazily, not budging an inch. “I don’t mind at all, darlin’.”
She huffed again, casting her eyes up as if requesting patience from heaven above. He waited, watching her steadily, enjoying the display of temper. He liked a woman with backbone. She didn’t smell frightened of him anymore, but she seemed strangely reluctant to even approach the stall door. He had expected her to push past him, but she remained against the far wall, well out of reach. The ghost of a memory from his dream tickled his consciousness again, sending a shiver down his spine.
Suddenly her eyes grew wide, fear sharpening her scent even more strongly than before. Logan whirled around, claws snapping out involuntarily to face the threat. Sebastian Shaw was standing there, his face impassive as he watched them. He raised a sardonic eyebrow at the Wolverine’s reaction.
Logan sheathed the claws, cursing himself mentally for being so wrapped up in the girl that he hadn’t sensed Shaw’s approach. Damned careless of him. He couldn’t afford that kind of carelessness.
“Shaw,” he said, nodding his head in acknowledgement.
Shaw’s pale eyes gleamed in the dim light. “Wolverine. I see you’ve met my wife.”
Logan’s eyes flew to the girl in startlement. Shaw’s wife? It was the first he had heard of Shaw having a wife, and she sure hadn’t seen fit to mention it. What kind of game was she playing?
The girl remained tense, color high in her cheeks, her mouth pressed in a grim line.
“Well, go on my dear. I’m sure we don’t want to delay your ride.” Shaw’s urbane voice had a ribbon of steel running through it, and the girl seemed to pale slightly. She walked slowly to the stall door, pulling it open. She edged carefully past Logan and both he and Shaw watched as she slung a saddle and gear over her shoulder before leading the gray out to the yard. The stable door swung closed behind her, and Shaw and Logan were alone.
“A beautiful woman, my Rogue.” Logan made a noncommittal grunt. He knew a minefield when he saw one.
“Unfortunately, she is quite shy,” Shaw continued. “She likes to keep her distance from the … social activities of the house.”
No kidding, Logan thought. The drinking, gambling, and whoring of Shaw’s guests didn’t seem like it would be her style. She hadn’t struck him as shy, though. Wary, but not timid.
“I hope you will understand her need for privacy.” Logan nodded. In other words, “Hands off.”
“Nice set-up you’ve got here,” Logan said, hoping to get back on steadier ground. He ambled over to the closest horse, scratching the bay mare behind her ear as she tossed her head in gratification.
“Do you like to ride, Wolverine?”
“Sure do.”
“Well.” Shaw came closer, and Logan noted that the mare shied away from him. Good judges of character, horses. “You are welcome to ride any afternoon.”
Message received. She rides in the mornings. “Thanks.”
The walked together out to the yard. The girl -- Rogue, Logan corrected himself, wondering what the hell kind of name that was -- was gone but her scent still lingered there.
He watched as Shaw slid behind the wheel of a low-slung sports car that couldn’t look more out of place in the dusty stable yard. “Would you like a lift back to the house?”
“Thanks, but I’ll walk it.” Shaw kept the car idling until Logan started down the wooded trail. He definitely seemed determined to keep the Wolverine away from his wife, and as hot as she was Logan didn’t think that jealousy entered into it much. Nor did he believe that the girl was hiding herself away, as Shaw had implied. No, for some reason Shaw wanted to keep his wife a secret, and Logan wanted to discover that reason.
It would be a dangerous game, sniffing around Shaw’s wife while simultaneously trying to get into his good graces. Logan let his thoughts luxuriate a little on Rogue -- how she had looked, and smelled, and the sound of that husky Southern voice. He scowled at the involuntary rush of arousal that flooded his body. Last thing he needed was to get stupid with lust while on this job. Dangerous.
_____________
Marie tightened her calves against the gray’s sides, guiding him deeper into the woods. She drank in the peacefulness of the dappled sunlight and fresh air, trying to let the tension out of her body.
Wolverine, Sebastian had called him. She had recognized him instantly as the man she had seen last night, standing naked at his window. Her attention had been arrested -- not just by his naked form, which had admittedly been pretty impressive -- but by the emotion evident in his face and frame. He had seemed troubled -- tormented even. Not the typical attitude of the callous, conscienceless mutants Sebastian usually employed.
And then today. The way he had acted was so unexpected. She had braced herself for aggression, or a lewd come-on, or both. Instead, he had been…teasing. Not in a bullying, cat-and-mouse way, but almost like he was trying to make her laugh. Charming. It had thrown her off balance.
And then those claws. What the hell was that? It was unlike any mutation she had ever seen. Metal blades, springing from his hands. It must hurt like hell.
She sighed, shaking her head to dismiss the errant thoughts. It didn’t matter who he was. He worked for Sebastian, and that was all she needed to know. Her life was a nightmarish tangle of complications as it was. She didn’t need to go looking for more trouble. Especially trouble with a deep, rumbling voice and golden hazel eyes that kindled something warm and unexpected in her belly...
The gray whinnied in protest as her thighs involuntarily tightened against his sides. “Sorry, sugar,” Rogue apologized with a pat to his neck, irritated with herself for letting her thoughts stray again. Trouble.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Ha, okay, I suck at holding out on you guys. I wanted to wait a couple of days before posting the next chapter, but I just can't. If you could be so kind as to review the first chapter anyway even if you are reading them both at once, know that it is positive reinforcement for quick updates. ;-) Enjoy!
Chapter End Notes:
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