Later, as the night lightened into day, Rusty woke to find his arm asleep under the still form of the woman he’d just marked as his own. He traced a finger along her jaw and down her throat, careful not to wake her. He wanted to remember her like this always. She was beautiful.

But her beauty was more than skin deep. Her dark hair was spread out on the pillow like a fan, framing her tiny face with its delicate cheekbones. He was amazed at how fragile she appeared, for her lovemaking had been fierce.

In spite of his wanting not to hurt her, she’d become ferocious in bed, begging him to love her with every fiber of his being. He tried to hold back, tried to keep from marking her as his own, but he couldn’t. Her touch had set him afire, and her kisses had seared him to his soul.

While there was no outward change in either of them, he knew that she was marked now and would always be his, even if they never made love again. If he couldn’t convince her to stay with him and accept his transformation into the wolf, he would never love another woman.

She was his.

More importantly, he was hers.

Forever.

There would never be another who could take him to the heights of love that the two of them had experienced last night. Their bodies, both naked and glowing from lovemaking, were cooling. He feared she might catch ill, so he started to move from the embrace of their bodies to get a blanket. That slight movement caused Sherry to rouse.

“Don’t leave me,” she murmured in a soft whisper, pulling his body back to hers with a possessiveness he found endearing.

She ran her fingers along his bare hip, her leg sliding between his, her body rising to meet his desire as she pulled him tighter to her.

He kissed her shoulder and whispered in her ear, “I need to get a quilt before we both freeze.”

She laughed, her eyes still closed, her breath raising goose bumps on his skin that had nothing to do with the cold.

“Hurry, lover,” she said as she caressed his chest with a finger. Her body promised more, and he quickly jerked a quilt over them, pulling her into its warmth as his mouth reached hers.

He sent a silent prayer of thanks to the moon goddess, because he had a feeling that all their tomorrows would bring nothing to match this night, and that all the nights that followed would pale in comparison.

Rusty woke later to the glare of sunlight through the window, an empty bed, and the smell of coffee. For just a minute, he was disoriented.

“Hello, sleepyhead,” said a voice from the doorway.

Rusty turned over to see Sherry, wearing nothing but his overlarge sweater and carrying a tray on which she had placed two plates heaped high with eggs and toast, and two cups of steaming coffee.

He wasn’t sure which he was happier to see.

He smiled seductively at her. “What’s all this?”

“This,” Sherry said, setting the tray down carefully on the chest at the foot of the bed, “is a thank you breakfast for my rescuer.”

“Oh?” Rusty took the coffee cup she offered him. The sweater lifted up slightly as she leaned over, revealing her very pert backside. He admired the view without apology. He remembered the feel of that flesh as he’d cupped it in his hand the night before, his lips curling in a satisfied smile.

“Do you often make thank you breakfasts?” he said to distract himself from wanting her again.

“Nope, this is the first one,” Sherry admitted as she tapped her coffee cup against his in a silent toast. Taking a sip, they looked at each other with unabashed hunger.

“The storm has nearly stopped,” Rusty said, looking out the window. He tried to keep his voice light. “I think there might be reception on our phones now. I can call for someone to come for you, if you would like me to.”

“In that much of a hurry to have me leave, are you?” Sherry quipped. She turned her face away, so he had to pull her around by the chin to regain her attention.

“That’s not it at all. I just thought you might like to continue with your vacation. This,” he pointed around the room, “might be a part of your trip you might not want to remember in the light of day.” He kept his tone light, even though his heart was breaking. He couldn’t let her know. He’d decided that revealing his secret to her might not be the best idea right now.

* * *

Sherry nodded. Handing him the rest of the breakfast she had prepared, she considered his comments. She had come here to get away from romantic entanglements, and what had she done the very first chance she’d had? Jumped in bed with a very sexy park ranger. In what way had that solved anything?

She realized Rusty was just a rebound guy and that their encounter had no lasting consequences or expectations for either of them, but she felt oddly disappointed that he could dismiss her so easily. She touched her head. The wound was sore, but not too painful, and she’d had no headache to speak of, so thankfully she’d been spared a concussion, but Sherry found herself trying to think up excuses to stay here a little longer. She could pretend she was still too ill to travel, but her lovemaking last night made that lie a little thin. She blushed, remembering how enthusiastic she’d been in bed. She’d never been that free with Brad, and perhaps that was why he’d felt the need to seek comfort in the beds of other women. She immediately dismissed that self-deprecating thought. Brad’s infidelities were not her fault, and she would stop blaming herself.

“I suppose I do need to call someone. At least to cancel the cabin up the mountain. I have a feeling the road will be impassable.”

Rusty nodded, taking a sip of coffee. “With my truck out of commission, I have to call my friend Joshua, so I think he can give you a ride to town after picking up your car. He’s the town mechanic as well as the tow truck driver. He can take you to the Whisper Falls Inn, which I think would be the best place for you to stay in town. The inn has fallen on hard times, but is still a beautiful Victorian manor with a lot of character, and its new owner, Michaela, is working hard to put it back to its original condition. You’ll like it very much.”

“Okay,” Sherry said, hating how flat her voice sounded. She was disappointed he wasn’t fighting to keep her here, but oddly understood. He was a man who liked living alone. She got that.

“I’ll get my clothes if you’ll call your friend?”

“Sure,” Rusty agreed. He seemed to want to say something else, and Sherry held her breath, hoping he’d say what she wanted to hear, but he didn’t. He offered her the shower first, slipping out of bed.

His nakedness in the light of day caused Sherry to gasp. He was magnificent, an Adonis of the forest, and she would forever be comparing future boyfriends to his lean, muscular form and finding them lacking.

If he felt her admiration, Rusty made no mention of it. He slipped on a pair of sweatpants and walked into the other room. She appreciated his kindness in giving her time to pull herself together. A minute later, he returned with her clothes, neatly folded, which he handed to her before taking the tray and cups to the other room.

As the door closed behind him, Sherry let the tears fall that had been prickling at the back of her eyes. She sobbed in the shower, letting the warm water run over her body, hoping it would wash away her desire as easily as it washed away his touch.