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Tara closed the door to the kitchen which also served as Matthew’s disorganized makeshift office. The photographer, if that’s what he really was, had gone with Cal, a volunteer at Arctic Wolves, to get more pictures.

“I don’t get it.” She crossed her arms and leaned against the door. “Why’d you put him up in a trailer so he could stay at the sanctuary?”

“I want him to become immersed in this life, get a feel for it so he can present the full picture of what it’s like. What we do. How can he know that if he’s not here at night to hear the wolves howl?”

And my screaming from nightmares.

“I don’t trust him.”

Matthew looked up from the eggs he fried. “I picked up on his military posture. Not something a soldier could ever hide, but that’s no reason for you to distrust. I’m former Navy. You trust me, don’t you? I have a good feeling about him. Surviving in this world means trusting your instincts, at least half the time.”

Now might be a good time for her to tell Matthew everything, but he insisted the less he knew the better. She couldn’t argue with him, except now that Grant McCall had shown up taking pictures, including a few of her, maybe the reverse was true and the more Matthew knew the better.

She pressed fingers against her eye sockets. How do I get my hands on those images? Delete the ones he took of me?

“I just think it’s a little too convenient. I’m hiding here and suddenly a photojournalist shows up?”

Matthew shrugged and plated his eggs. “You’re sure you don’t want some?”

“No.” She said the word too forcefully and softened her next words. “No, thank you. But Matthew…you’re not listening.”

Matthew had been her father’s best friend, and had become a surrogate father of sorts since her dad had died from lung cancer five years ago. That’s when Matthew had given her his promise—if she ever needed anything. He’d fulfilled that promise, and Tara wasn’t sure if she overstepped by asking more of him now.

He shoved a stack of papers aside and set his plate on the kitchen table. Grabbed a fork from a drawer. Then he peered at her. “You have thousands of dollars stashed somewhere? Because otherwise, we need to raise funds. You want to read the long list of reasons why? Mr. McCall is the guy to do that for us. You can avoid the man, if you want. He won’t be here that long.”

Tara wanted to argue, but reminded herself Matthew had come to her rescue. He’d sent someone to fetch her straight out of the heart of Africa. He’d called on someone who owed him. Called in his one favor to get her home. “Fine.”

She turned to open the door and leave before she said something she might regret.

“Tara.”

She hesitated against the door.

“You’re safe here. That man isn’t going to hurt you.”

How could he be sure? Forcing back the words, she exited the kitchen and ran right into the six-foot-two wall of muscle. The man gently gripped her biceps and an unwanted current of attraction raced up her arms. “Steady, there.”

Great. She looked up at his strong jaw, thick neck, steely gray eyes, and tangled, dark hair. The way he held her, she couldn’t escape even if she used her few martial arts skills.

More importantly—how much had he heard?

“Are you all right?” He studied her like he actually cared.

“I’m fine.” She forced a light tone. “You can let me go now.”

And just like that, his strong hands released her. She took two steps back, then tried to rush around him to escape.

“Hold on.” He followed her out.

Matthew’s suggestion that she avoid Grant wasn’t working and would never work if Grant sought her out and pursued her. A shiver ran over her.

“Did you need something? I thought you were with Cal.” Tara snapped out the words sounding entirely too annoyed. She inwardly cringed. The last thing she wanted to do was give the man a bad experience or impression of Arctic Wolves if he was on the up and up.

A shadow clouded his face. Had she come across as rude or was something much more nefarious bothering him? “I spent time with him and now I want to ask you questions. See the wolves through your eyes.”

Oh, no. Not good. “I’m sorry, I don’t have time.” She rushed out the door, but the man was persistent and stayed with her.

“I promise I won’t bite.”

Tara drew in a few calming breaths as she hiked toward the structure she’d converted to a small veterinary clinic where the sick wolf waited. There wasn’t any escape now. The best she could hope for would be to expose this man for who he really was, and if he was someone who had come looking for her, she could run again.

“Okay, then. I’m headed to see Shane.”

“Cal said you’re the vet.”

“He’s using that term loosely. I’m a microbiologist. I have a little training in veterinary work, and mostly it’s on-the-job since being here. Mainly that’s because Matthew doesn’t like the local vet. Plus, he thinks I’m good with the wolves.”

“Are you?”

“Am I…?” Was he asking more about her background? She hoped not.

“Are you good with the wolves?”

Tara couldn’t help herself. She sent him a sly grin, and slipped inside the habitat connected to the clinic. “See for yourself.”

Shane—the big, beautiful white arctic male—loped toward her. He toppled Tara over and she laughed, masking her concern that what ailed him was far more serious than she could correct. Then she snuck a peak at Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome. She feared he’d turn his camera on her again—and maybe she even wanted him to and give her an opportunity to destroy it and the images it held.

By accident, of course.

Instead, his gray eyes pierced hers, something feral lingering in his gaze. The sensation coursing through her terrified her. Thrilled her. Still, there was something more in that look. Written all over his face. She’d always had this strange, uncanny ability to see past the lies to the truth in people’s eyes. Some sort of empathy to feel their pain. Maybe it was a curse. She averted her gaze and squeezed her eyes shut.

She’d read the truth in his eyes all right.

He knew her secret.

Tara had ushered Shane into the small medical makeshift clinic, which someone—he’d guess Tara—had aptly fitted with the necessary veterinarian supplies. It appeared she had planned to stay here for a good long while. He wasn’t sure what he thought about that—if she’d seen something, she needed to report that. Expose the truth. Lives could be at stake. But something had terrified her enough to silence her—and she was too afraid to do anything or let anyone know she had survived.

Of course, that’s why he was sent to investigate. He wouldn’t even be here if she’d come forward. His organization suspected the worst kind of evil behind the massacre. If those responsible for that evil found out Tara was alive, they would hunt her down.

Grant figured it was just a matter of time.

After all, he’d found her.

Maybe she was simply biding her time before she exposed them. Grant was biding his too—he kept his discovery that Tara had survived, and that he’d actually found her quiet, playing it close to the chest. That sixth sense told him that he should only share with his superior, Mark Summers, though he’d had to go through his chain of command to do it.

He wouldn’t even be here if he hadn’t seen the image that surfaced on the internet as he searched for information about the two WHO employees using facial recognition software. Tara’s image, dated after the massacre, showed her alive and well.

He stood back against the wall and watched her gently examine the wolf.

“So you’re not afraid of him?”

She ran her fingers under Shane’s neck as if feeling for something. “We have a degree of trust between us. It’s all I have to work with.”

Her expression turned grim, then she straightened. “Would you like to pet him?”

“I don’t think that would be wise.”

The flat lines of her pretty lips lifted, if only slightly. “Shane has been here at the sanctuary for the longest, so he’s probably the most domesticated, if you could call it that. Let me put it this way. You wouldn’t be in this room with me if he didn’t like you.”

She coaxed the wolf to lay down. Matthew had been right—she had some sort of magic she worked with the wild creatures. With the slight incline of her head, Tara gestured him over. He shoved aside his fear—in case the wolf sensed it and reacted—and crept slowly forward.

Tara took Grant’s hand in hers and gently pressed it against the wolf’s coarse fur. She kept her hand entwined with his, knowing the wolf would accept her touch. Why had she wanted Grant to connect with the animal? He wasn’t sure he cared and let himself fully absorb the experience. The thrill of it. The experience would allow him to insert much more passion into his article now.

As he ran his fingers through this ferocious and wild creature’s fur—his hand entwined with Tara’s—he wasn’t sure which creature was making his heart stutter.

She released his hand to stroke the wolf alone, but remained unnaturally close, for his protection he assumed. Unbidden thoughts twisted through him. He wanted to take Tara in his arms.

Protect her.

Her life in danger, she was in need of protection, and he knew that with every fiber of his being. He never imagined his research mission would morph into something so instinctually survivalist.

Tara signaled for him to move back against the wall. Surprisingly, her eyes filled with unshed tears.

“That bad, huh?” Grant asked.

“He has a mass. Considering he’s weak, I don’t think it’s benign. I think Matthew’s going to have to call in the regular vet for this one.”

He read it clear enough in her eyes. She didn’t hold out much hope for Shane.

“I’m sorry, Tara.”

She turned her attention back to Shane and assisted him off the examining table, and back outside to the fenced area. Tara all but mesmerized Grant, the way she worked with what had once been a wild creature to be feared before some tragedy had reduced him to living in a sanctuary. At least Shane could live and be cared for. In a perfect world, wild creatures could remain wild.

In a perfect world, so many things would be different.

He took a few photographs, but could tell the camera made her uncomfortable. He understood why, of course. Still, he wasn’t sure it was the camera anymore. Something in her demeanor, her attitude towards him had changed for the worse and it hadn’t been that great to begin with. Though she’d remained wary for the most part, she seemed downright skittish again like that first moment when she’d spotted him on the property.

Maybe he should just come out and tell her the truth.

That he wasn’t the bad guy here. Except he couldn’t be sure she’d seen through his disguise.

And if she’d seen through his ploy, he needed to do something to reel her back in. “Maybe later today you’d like to see the photographs I’ve taken, so you can approve or disapprove.”

Tara exited the clinic and the fenced in habitat where Shane rested, Grant on her heels.

“Well, what do you think?” he asked.

“Okay, um...maybe in a couple of hours, after I finish everything I need to do today.”

“So you’re dismissing me?” He injected a teasing tone.

That brought on an unexpected chuckle. “For now.”

He watched her walk away. Edgy, definitely edgy. Had he given himself away? Scratching his jaw, he lifted his camera and took a few pictures of her. The way she stood taller, bristled, he suspected she somehow knew that he was photographing her again. But she didn’t look back at him, only walked that much faster.

Yeah. Tara Blackburn was going to run again.

And he’d been the one to spook her. He glanced up at the treetops as the breeze rustled, sending a cold chill over him that made the hair on his arms and neck stand on end. Or had it been something else?

If Grant had found her, chances were that others would follow. Others with dark intentions.