The Ranger Read online

  He gave her an exasperated look. “I know.” But then he swore. He pushed her against a large tree, tore the dog from her arms, and then used his body as a shield in front of her. “Stay behind me,” he ordered. “If I tell you to run, do it.”

  “I won’t—”

  He gave her a fierce glare. “You will. I will do my best to save your dog, but I won’t let you be killed for him.”

  Anna didn’t understand. How could he be so certain? She didn’t hear or see anything.

  Then she heard it. The faintest sound of movement. Running. Coming toward them.

  How had he known …?

  The pack sprang out of the trees with bloodcurdling swiftness. Wolves were shy by nature and usually avoided humans. It’s the puppy. That’s what he’d meant. They wanted the puppy.

  At first she thought there were a dozen of them, but when her mind cleared to finally enable her to count them, she could see it was only half that many.

  “Robby?” she asked.

  Sir Arthur shook his head. “I ordered him to stay with the horses.”

  She sighed with relief. She didn’t want the young guardsman to unknowingly stumble on them and startle the wolves into attacking him.

  Sir Arthur held his sword out, turning from side to side. The wolves snarled, fur standing on end, their eyes pinned to the puppy Sir Arthur had tucked under his arm. Was it her imagination, or did they look hungry?

  They seemed to be sitting back, shrewdly assessing their opponent, trying to find his weakness and waiting for the right moment to spring. Though she couldn’t see his face, she knew Sir Arthur was doing the same.

  The biggest wolf took a step forward, as if trying to draw Sir Arthur to him. He was, she realized. The other wolves had started to circle behind them. God, how smart they were. The wolf wanted Sir Arthur to move toward him and then the others would attack from the rear.

  Instead, Sir Arthur held the puppy out by the scruff, daring the biggest wolf toward him.

  “What are you doing?” she cried.

  “Hopefully getting rid of the leader. Be ready,” he warned.

  When she didn’t respond, he looked at her. “Anna!”

  She nodded quickly, not wanting him distracted. Sir Arthur had just turned back when the biggest wolf attacked, leaping through the air for the wriggling pup.

  Sir Arthur moved faster than she would have thought possible. She’d never seen reflexes like that. Anna smothered a scream in her hands as he tucked the puppy out of harm’s way with one arm and sliced through the air with the other.

  She turned her gaze after seeing the line of red appear across the wolf’s throat. A second later, she heard the thud of its body hit the ground. Without their leader, the wolves seemed to shrink back. Sir Arthur took a few steps forward, swinging the magnificent great sword back and forth in the air effortlessly, though because of the pup he was using only one hand. His right, she noticed. Not even his strong arm.

  One more wolf ventured tentatively forward, but a hard hit by the side of the sword cured him of bravery. As quickly as they’d appeared, the wolves fled, disappearing into the darkness.

  It had lasted no longer than a minute, but it had been the longest minute of her life. Arthur lowered his sword and turned back to her.

  She didn’t know who moved first, but she was in the circle of his arms, pressed up against the hard shield of his chest. She burrowed her head for a moment—not unlike her puppy was doing in the other arm—and let the fear slide from her body.

  “Are you all right?”

  She looked up at him. His face was so still; the only sign of how affected he’d been was the heavy beat of his heart. She wanted to say she was fine, that she’d never felt more safe, but his mouth was so close that all she could think about was how much she wanted him to kiss her. How much she needed him to kiss her.

  He was so handsome, with his dark, wavy brown hair and strange golden-amber eyes. She liked the dent in his chin and the slight crookedness of his nose where it had probably been broken. But it was his mouth, wide and undeniably sensual, that she could not look away from. It looked so soft, while the rest of him was so strong.

  He was strong. And safe.

  He made a harsh sound in his throat and pressed her closer to him. His gaze lowered to her mouth and she knew he was going to kiss her.

  His hand fell to her face. The rough pads of his fingers cupped her chin. Her heart strummed like the strings of a harp. So incredibly gentle. Just like she’d imagined.

  His eyes darkened with something hot that made her body flutter in naughty places. He was staring at her mouth as if he wanted to devour her. The sensations were so strong—so palpable—she could almost feel his mouth on hers. The soft caress of lips. Her stomach flipped. The heady taste of spice.

  She was so convinced he was going to kiss her that when he released her instead, her legs wobbled.

  He looked away for a moment, as if he were fighting some invisible battle, every inch of his body drawn up as tight as a bowstring.

  Abruptly, he turned back to her, the heat in his eyes gone. He handed her back the puppy. “We need to get back.”

  This time the remote indifference stung. Confused by the intensity of her body’s reaction, by her weakness, his control felt like a slap. He might want her, but he wasn’t going to act on his desire.

  Desire. That was what she was feeling. That was what had made her pulse race and her body heat when she thought he was going to kiss her. And that was the disappointment that was crashing through her now.

  She squeezed the puppy in her arms and nuzzled his warm, furry head. At least he liked her.

  Heat prickled her eyes, but she pushed it back angrily. The emotion was because of the wolves, she told herself. She was feeling vulnerable because of the attack—not because of his rejection.

  She drew a deep breath, trying to get hold of her tangled emotions. Like him, she was determined to pretend as if that moment had never happened.

  He’d come to her rescue once more, and she’d nearly forgotten to thank him. He tried to lead her away, but she stopped him. “Thank you,” she said.

  He shrugged off her gratitude. “It was nothing.”

  A modest knight? She didn’t think such a thing existed. But perhaps she should have guessed he’d be that way. He seemed determined not to draw attention to himself.

  “I know you probably won’t believe me,” she said, “but I’m not usually this in need of rescue.”

  One side of his mouth lifted. “This time it wasn’t you, it was him.” He pointed to the puppy in her arms.

  “We were both fortunate to have you looking out for us. Our very own knight in shining armor.”

  She was only teasing, but his expression returned to serious. “Don’t believe in faerie tales, Lady Anna. You’ll only be disappointed.”

  She heard the warning, but he was wrong. “You were amazing. I’ve never seen anyone react so quickly. It was as if …”

  Her brows drew together. The moments before the attack were coming back to her. How did he know the wolves were going to attack? It was the same as at the cliff. It was almost as if he knew what was going to happen, as if he’d sensed it before he should have.

  Dear Lord, he had. Her eyes widened, and her gaze jerked to his. Did that explain the strange intensity she’d sensed simmering under the surface? She’d attributed it to watchfulness and keen observation, but was it something more?

  She took a step backward and covered her mouth with her hand. “You knew.”

  * * *

  Arthur tensed, muscles clenched, as he braced himself for the fear. For the revulsion that always came on the rare occasions when someone caught a glimpse of his unusual abilities. Even his own parents had looked at him like that.

  As a boy, he’d tried to pretend he wasn’t different. He’d tried to explain. Tried to make them understand that he wasn’t some kind of freak—that his senses were sharper, his awareness heightened, his skill at observ