Taming the Lone Wolff Read online

  Her face went pink. “I’d be honored to be your friend. As long as you don’t expect me to…” She trailed off.

  “To share my bed?”

  “Larkin!” She put her hands to her cheeks. “Quit saying things like that. You told me you don’t get involved with clients.”

  “That was before I met you.”

  “I’m boring.”

  He could see in her eyes that she believed it. She wasn’t fishing for compliments, but he offered them anyway. “You’re beautiful and sexy as hell. I could spend twenty-four hours in that bed with you and not be done.”

  “Is that even possible? I thought men…well…”

  Her artless confusion amused him. “I might have to rest now and again, but you wouldn’t be disappointed.”

  She wrapped her arms around her waist, rocking slightly. “I never said that was an issue. I’m trying to make you believe I’m not the kind of woman you’re used to. And it would be embarrassing and awkward when you find out my shortcomings between the sheets.”

  This endless argument was getting them nowhere. He’d simply have to rely on proximity and the magic of Wolff Mountain to win her over. “We’ll drop the subject for now. But it’s not going away, I promise. Sooner or later, I’ll convince you. So you might as well get used to the idea. Bringing you here was not one of my better ideas, yet here we are. I’m selfish enough to want to take advantage of the situation. Tell me you don’t want me, and I’ll leave you alone. But I don’t think you can say that, can you?”

  “Has anyone ever told you that you’re arrogant?”

  He grinned, looking forward to the days ahead. “I’m a Wolff. It comes with the territory.”

  * * *

  Winnie fell back on the bed, her arms outstretched. What had she gotten herself into? Larkin Wolff was a charismatic, masculine man with enough macho hormones to put any female’s heart in jeopardy. But she was a pragmatic woman. And she had discovered long ago that her life would be spent in the service of others.

  The art of deep personal relationships was not something she had ever mastered. Even with her parents there had existed a distance created by devotion to their life’s work and by Winnie’s inability to express to them what she needed emotionally. In the aftermath of their deaths, she had lost her way for a time…with disastrous consequences. After that experience, she decided to pour her heart, time and money into something bigger than herself.

  Knowing that she was protecting women and children who had few resources, either financially or otherwise, gave her a deep sense of satisfaction. The money in her various bank accounts had never meant much to her, other than the freedom to help those in need. Her personal fortune had complicated her life, and that same money was to blame for her misgivings when it came to Larkin.

  For most of her life, she had been judged by the size of her financial bottom line. No one looked at Winifred Bellamy and saw a young woman with potential. All they cared about was what her net worth could do for them.

  Larkin was different. He had no interest in her money. So why couldn’t she believe him when he said he wanted her? She knew she carried scars—deep ones. But was she so damaged that the interest of a virile, appealing man threatened her somehow?

  For the next hour and a half, she prowled the room, unable to sit down. The spacious apartment was peaceful and serene. Winnie’s thoughts were anything but. She dreaded meeting the entire Wolff clan. Large groups made her nervous.

  She doubted anyone would really believe the two of them were close friends. Larkin was the kind of man who went for sleek and sophisticated women. By his own admission, Winnie wasn’t his type. She could hold her own in society settings. Her parents had included her in their entourage by the time she was ten years old. Charity events were old hat. Not that her mother or father had actually paid attention to her during the dinners and dances and auctions.

  Winnie had always attended in the company of a nanny, seen but not heard. Nevertheless, she had learned what it meant to move gracefully through the world of movers and shakers.

  Tonight’s dinner, however, was different, more personal. And it was important to Larkin that his family believed he was happy. The thought made her laugh softly despite her inner turmoil. Surely they understood his renegade nature. His eyes betrayed his inner intensity.

  Larkin was like a wild stallion masquerading as a civilized beast. When he touched her, she felt it. Whether tender or demanding, his intent was clear. He wanted to mate with her. But unlike his wolf namesake, not for life. Which meant she had to be on her guard until she knew her own mind.

  She shivered as she undressed in preparation for a quick shower. Wrapping her hair in a towel, turbanlike, she caught a glimpse of her flushed cheeks in the mirror. Her pupils were dilated. Her breasts felt full and achy, the nipples painfully erect.

  The outcome of this scenario was inevitable. She and Larkin would be lovers. Sooner rather than later. And it wouldn’t be because of any coercion on his part. Her downfall would be the hunger that churned low in her belly, the writhing swirl of arousal that made her legs part restlessly and sent moisture to bloom in the folds of her sex.

  Her entire body was on fire with longing. A deep, visceral need that had seemingly come from out of the blue. The life she lived had been pleasing to her, the days filled with purpose and activity. It was sobering to realize that meeting Larkin had exposed a gaping hole in her existence. She had friends, but no confidants. Acquaintances, but no one on which to bestow love.

  The shower was quick. She could hardly bear to touch herself with soapy hands. In her imagination, it was Larkin bathing her, Larkin stroking her legs, her arms, her quivering belly.

  By the time she made it back to the bedroom, her entire body was trembling. If he saw her like this, he would know. And knowing would demand her submission to the erotic flame that danced between them.

  Her throat raw with emotional tears, she drew back the covers on the bed and climbed in, wanting to pull them over her head. She had willingly walked into Wolff Castle. As a bolt-hole, the security was absolute. And it was a measure of her trust in Larkin that she had no fears at all about the charges she had left behind in Nashville.

  But suddenly, and in blinding clarity, she realized that by coming with Larkin to his home turf, she had placed herself in tremendous danger. No one in her entire life had ever loved her enough to put her first. Even Larkin had been quick to point out that he wasn’t interested in a conventional relationship that culminated in orange blossoms and wedding bells.

  The truth seemed inescapable. She would go to his bed. How could she not? He was everything a woman could want in a man. Strong. Honorable. Virtually irresistible. He had revived in her a sexuality she’d thought long euthanized.

  The resultant chaos in her soul was painful in the extreme, much like the awakening of a limb that had fallen asleep. She didn’t want to want Larkin Wolff. She didn’t want to feel anything for him. But she feared the damage was already done. With Larkin, she responded as a woman…whether she liked it or not.

  Ten

  She dozed off without meaning to, and when she jerked awake and glanced at the clock in a panic, she had just twenty-five minutes to prepare. Her hair was a challenge on the best of days. And of all times, this evening she wanted to appear chic and poised. A tall order for someone with her lack of height and a headful of frizzy curls.

  She brushed out as many of the kinks as she could manage and then used a flatiron to tame the rest. With more luck than dexterity, she captured the unruly mass at the back of her head and secured it in a simple French twist. The diamond teardrop earrings she slipped into her earlobes were small enough for a family evening at home…given that the family in question was the Wolffs.

  Standing in a recently purchased demi bra and panties, she surveyed the dresses she had brought with her. First impressions were important. And there were several ways she could go. Self-important heiress. Quiet outsider. Neutral onlooker.


  Unfortunately, fashion was not always so easily labeled, so in the end, she decided to go with I-need-to-look-good-and-be-comfortable-’cause-I’m-gonna-be-on-display. The dress she chose was red, but that was the only flashy thing about it. The fabric was a silk blend that felt sensuous against her skin. The sleeves ended just below the elbow. A narrow sash cinched her waist, and there was enough fullness in the skirt to swish nicely as she walked.

  Although the back of the dress zipped to the top of her spine, the front dipped in what was for Winnie a daring V. She had always been embarrassed by her generous breasts. And it wasn’t that they were abnormally large, but the rest of her was so small, they stood out. Her habit was to downplay them as much as possible.

  Even now, the cleavage revealed was practically chaste. But as Winnie gazed at herself in the mirror critically, she could almost feel the heat of Larkin’s gaze. The curves revealed by the dress would draw his eyes inevitably. Would he assume she had dressed to please him?

  Tugging the bodice a bit higher, she sighed and went in search of shoes. Black patent-leather heels to be exact. She’d packed sling backs with pointed toes and stiletto heels. The shoes made a statement.

  Her legs were as white as the rest of her, but she couldn’t abide panty hose. And she didn’t have the nerve to deck herself out in a garter belt and stockings. One hurdle at a time. Surely it was enough that she had bought new underwear. Which Larkin might or might not get to see.

  With eight minutes left for makeup, she relaxed. Long ago she had given up trying to cover her freckles. Lip gloss and a dash of eye shadow were enough to transform her usual ultracasual self into a fashionable, though lightly gilded lily.

  When the knock sounded at her door, she sucked in a breath. Showtime. She flattened her hand on her stomach, seeking in vain to calm the riotous butterflies. Taking her time, she crossed the room and threw wide the door. “I’m ready,” she said.

  * * *

  Larkin couldn’t have been more surprised if she had greeted him stark naked. He swallowed hard, caught unawares by the sheer sexuality she exuded. He tried not to stare at her breasts. Never would he be so rude or gauche with another woman of his acquaintance.

  With his throat dry and his jaw tight, he focused on a spot somewhere over her shoulder. “You look very nice,” he said as he ushered her out into the hall and shut her door.

  Winnie punched him lightly on the shoulder. “I believe that’s called damning with faint praise. I was hoping for better.”

  He debated kissing her. Too damn risky. “Would you rather I told you you’re so hot in that dress I want to take you up against the wall with my hands under your skirt squeezing your ass?”

  His voice came out gruff, scratchy and hungry.

  “Behave yourself,” she muttered.

  They walked side by side down the wide hallway, close, but not touching. His entire body was rigid. Though he loved his family dearly, he could consign them all to the devil at this exact moment. And if they saw the look on his face, they would be in no doubt about his plans for Winnie.

  As they descended the stairs and headed toward the formal dining room, he concentrated on anything but the smell of Winnie’s innocent scent. He didn’t really care if his family speculated about the nature of his relationship to Winnie. But revealing his obsession was another matter entirely.

  No one noticed them for several long seconds when they entered the room. Everyone was present and accounted for except the children. Larkin leaned his head toward Winnie. “The little ones are with a sitter tonight. Dad and Uncle Victor wanted a formal, grown-up dinner. It’s rare that we all make it here at one time.”

  Suddenly, Larkin’s uncle spotted them. Raising his voice and tapping his wineglass with a spoon, the old man boomed out a greeting. “It’s about time you showed up. I’m starving.”

  Laughter broke out, and in moments Larkin was enveloped in a wild rush of hugs and kisses. He looked over his shoulder in the midst of the mayhem to see that Winnie had stepped to one side, a contemplative smile curving her lips. Their eyes met. He jerked his head, indicating his wish for her to join him. But Winnie waited until everyone melted away to take his or her seat.

  Larkin remained standing and pulled her to his side. “It’s good to be home,” he said simply. “This is my friend Winnie Bellamy. She’s been having some trouble with the press, so I’m stashing her here on the mountain for a couple of weeks until things blow over. I told her you all wouldn’t mind. Do me a favor and don’t overwhelm her. I’ll give her the playlist while we eat, but take pity on her and remind her of your names if she forgets.”

  After a chorus of Hello, Winnie, Larkin held her chair, seated her and took his own place at the table. He realized almost immediately that all eyes were on him and his guest.

  He sighed and muttered in a low voice. “I might as well introduce them all now. Or else we’ll never get to eat.”

  Winnie nodded, looking a bit like the proverbial deer in the headlights, though he was pretty sure he was the only one who noticed. She had an innate sense of poise and composure that stood her well in the midst of this crazy group.

  Before Larkin could begin, Victor Wolff stood and raised a glass. “I’d like to propose a toast.”

  Everyone lifted a wine goblet, including Winnie. Larkin listened, half wincing, to see what his outspoken uncle would say.

  Victor was still bluff and dictatorial, but his manner had softened over the years. He and Larkin’s father had been in their forties when they’d both married much younger wives. Now they were beginning to look like old men. “This family has seen its share of sorrow.” He paused, his throat working visibly. “I never imagined that when you were all grown you would have the sense to pick such fine partners. I think I should have more than two grandchildren by now—” he slanted a stern look at Jacob “—but I am so damned proud of each and every one of you. To the Wolffs.”

  To the Wolffs. The toast echoed around the table, and Larkin felt his own throat tighten with emotion. It had been a long, sometimes dreary road, but now he finally had the satisfaction of seeing his brother and sister happy—really happy.

  Larkin started to say something to Winnie, but Victor wasn’t finished. “We’re delighted Larkin brought along a friend. As cohost tonight, Winnie, I hope you’ll allow me to present you to this somewhat motley crew.”

  Winnie nodded and smiled shyly. “I’d appreciate that, sir.”

  Victor put his hand on the shoulder of a large, fierce-looking man to his right. “This boy is my eldest, Gareth. Next to him his wife, Gracie, the only woman who has ever had the temerity to challenge our resident hermit.” A titter of laughter circled the table, but Victor continued. “They have a precious toddler you’ll meet tomorrow. Then we have my youngest son, Kieran, and his wife, Olivia. Kieran was our globe-trotter, but he’s finally decided he likes a more permanent life here on the mountain, thank God. Their daughter, Cammie, is in grade school. And last but not least on my branch of the family tree is my middle boy, Jacob. I don’t suppose you need an introduction to his spouse.”

  If Winnie was overwhelmed, she didn’t show it. “Oh, no…not at all. Ms. Dane, I’m a huge fan.”

  Larkin’s sister-in-law was an Academy Award–winning actress. But here at Wolff Mountain she was known simply as Ariel. Though she had been an official Wolff for some time now, she kept her stage name.

  Larkin tensed momentarily, waiting for his father to stand. Vincent Wolff seemed far more frail than he had even a few months ago. But to Larkin’s surprise, Victor continued his emcee duties.

  “With my brother’s permission I’ll finish out the roster. His eldest is Devlyn sitting to his left, along with Gillian, who has been a part of this family one way or another for a long, long time. Devlyn runs Wolff Enterprises out of our headquarters in Atlanta. Beside Gillian is Sam Ely, again a longtime family friend. Sam had the guts to court our beautiful Annalise. They produced the newest member of the Wolff family just a few mont
hs ago. And I think that’s it.”

  Annalise looked at her brother with a gimlet stare and then focused her pointed gaze on Winnie. “Winnie Bellamy? As in Winifred Bellamy, the heiress?”

  * * *

  Winnie felt like an animal at the zoo. Although the attention of Larkin’s family was understandable, she felt exposed. Particularly when Annalise, whom Larkin loved dearly, asked what everyone else was thinking.

  “That’s me,” Winnie said, wishing she had an ounce of Annalise’s boundless confidence.

  “And how did you two meet?”

  “Annalise.” The warning tone in Larkin’s voice didn’t deter his sister.

  “Merely a commonplace question.”

  “It’s okay,” Winnie said, straightening her spine and tightly clasping her hands in her lap. “Larkin was doing some security work for me. He was kind enough to offer me a place to hide out. That’s about it.”

  Beneath the table, she felt Larkin’s big, warm left hand enclose her right one. He squeezed gently.

  “Enough interrogation,” he said. “I promised Winnie that you all were civilized for the most part. Don’t prove me wrong.”

  His sister leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Whatever you say, big brother. We’re all just thrilled you’re here for a visit again so soon. Unprecedented, isn’t it?”

  Larkin’s lips twitched in a small smile. “I had some vacation time coming.”

  “You can’t even spell vacation,” Annalise muttered.

  The sibling banter halted when Victor rang a small bell, and moments later half a dozen servers entered the room. Winnie was granted a reprieve as the table sagged with an assortment of food that rivaled any elegant restaurant. She ate quietly, content to study the interplay between the siblings and cousins and in-laws.

  The six younger generation Wolffs teased each other unmercifully, with the spouses interjecting occasionally. The affection and respect between Victor and his sons was unmistakable. A family bond that appeared to be unbreakable.