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Lunchtime had come faster than she’d expected, and Giselle’s stomach fluttered like the wings of a thousand butterflies as she approached Asher’s truck. Her head said she needed to stay mad at him, no matter what. But as she looked at the handsome wolf leaning against the truck and saw the outline of his pecs through his shirt, and remembered what he looked like naked... she had a hard time listening to her head. And his offer to help heal her wounds was a sign of good faith. How could he have truly known she was in danger... right?
Damn it! Giselle couldn’t keep her thoughts straight.
She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders as she met up with him, hoping to give off a ‘no funny business’ vibe.
“Ready?” he asked, and she could count on one hand the times he’d given her a genuine smile. This one shocked her. So too did the note of hopefulness in his voice.
“Let’s hurry. I don’t want to miss any more school,” Giselle said curtly, trying desperately to hold onto that justified anger.
“I didn’t take you for someone with scholarly ambitions.” He chuckled innocently enough, but it didn’t smooth the sting of his insult.
Well, that comment really helped to fuel her anger. He must have really thought low of her to say some crap like that. “Actually, I have always been a straight A student, despite my upbringing and the unfortunate nature of my condition.”
“Whoa, there. I didn’t mean anything. I was just...”
“Making an ass out of yourself? You’re pretty good at that, from what I’ve seen so far.”
“Okay, I probably deserve that one. How many times will I have to apologize before you’ll forgive me?”
“I’m not sure. There’s no Miss Manners’ guide for leaving someone to die in the desert with a potentially feral lone wolf lurking around.”
He turned his eyes to the road and continued driving without another word. They pulled into a gated neighborhood with large lovely houses and huge front yards. Martina’s house was not tiny, but in comparison, it seemed a shack now. The house they pulled up in front of had a three-car garage and what looked like a casita. Between the garage and casita was a gated entry to a large courtyard with pavers, a fire pit, and a rock wall fountain. Giselle was floored by the opulence. Rather than a typical front door (should she have expected anything less), the grand entrance came from a set of stark white French doors with stained glass accents. She was almost afraid to touch the doorknob and leave fingerprints, let alone walk inside and mark up the floor with her sneakers.
Asher waved her in without any apprehension and threw his bag down against the wall.
The outside of the house had wowed her, but the inside was just beyond words. Gorgeous marble floor. Accent walls painted in striking colors. Who knew red could look so good in a kitchen? Especially when that kitchen had a stone surround hiding the vent over the six-burner gas range. Damn. Even the granite countertops looked like something out of a magazine. And that was only one room. Dare she ask for a tour? No. Stick to being mad. Stick to the plan. Poultice...whatever that was... and get back to school.
“Through here,” Asher called over his shoulder without looking behind to see if she was following. “Help yourself to anything in the fridge if you want.”
Sure, she could use a soda... if she could find the fridge. All she saw were honey-colored wood cabinets with silver knobs. Did they conjure up some kind of magic to make their refrigerator appear and disappear?
Asher had walked into a sort of arched hallway between the kitchen and the dining room. At least she hoped it was the dining room. She couldn’t be sure, as there was either a table or another counter matching the same granite as the kitchen in there.
Asher glanced over and must have caught her confused expression. “Last cabinet to the right. Grab me a soda too, will ya?” He continued to rummage around in drawers in the hallway and Giselle turned to randomly opening up cabinets to find this mysterious fridge.
Sure enough, hidden to look like the rest of the cabinets and pantry, was a full-size refrigerator stocked with drinks. She grabbed two sodas and followed Asher to the short hallway.
“Turn around and pull off your scarf.” His tone was just as curt as hers had been in the truck. Maybe he was giving her a taste of her own medicine, or maybe this was just how he acted. Their first meeting sounded something like that, personality-free and rude.
She did as he asked, and before she was ready, he slapped something down on her wounds that was both icy and searing at the same time. She hissed more from the shock than anything else, but as the searing heat began to seep into her skin, she had to pant to keep the scream of pain at bay.
“Yeah, doesn’t feel very good,” he said just as curtly as before. “But it will help. I’m putting three of them across your neck and securing them with a bit of tape. You’ll need the scarf for cover for the rest of the day, but everything should be fine after your next shift.”
If the pain kept up, she might not make it through the rest of the day. She tried to use her voice to say something, anything, but all she could let out without wailing was a sharp squeak.
“The pain will go away. I promise.”
Sure... like she was going to believe him. He could have at least warned her about how it would feel.
“Breathe, Giselle. Or you’ll pass out.”
Damn. The way her name rolled off his tongue, she almost forgot her anger. If she had a voice, she might have asked him to repeat himself.
“You have to relax. Breathe through the pain. It will go away in a few moments.”
She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t speak. The pain was overwhelming.
Asher spun her around and before she knew what was happening, planted a kiss on her lips that melted away everything that was bothering her. He held her tight against him, and lightheaded as she had just become, she was thankful for his support. But strong arms were the last thing on her mind at the moment. Those luscious lips and the heady masculine scent filling her nose were taking over all her senses.
Almost as quickly as his lips had found hers, he pulled back and met her eyes. “Still hurting?”
Surprisingly, she wasn’t. “No.” Her voice had returned too.
“Told you. Just needed to give the herbs time to settle in. You’ll be fine for the rest of the day.”
And just like that, he closed up a box, put it back in the drawer, and headed through the kitchen. “Let’s go. Don’t want to be late for class.”
Dumbfounded. There was nothing else to describe how she felt at that moment. Like a switch, he went from hot to cold as if nothing had happened, while she simmered with the remainder of unspent passion for a man... a boy she shouldn’t even want.
The entire silent ride back to school was spent with her dwelling on just that thought, while Asher seemed unaffected.
What was his deal? First he acted like she was lower than dirt. Then he tried to be her friend, maybe more, and then suddenly, after getting his nose whacked, metaphorically speaking, he switched gears yet again. Maybe the girls were right. He was no good. Too bad, though; he had potential to be great.
“Thanks,” she said hopping down from the truck when they parked back at school.
“Be careful.”
She was almost shocked to hear his voice, he’d been silent so long.
“I will.” Giselle shouldered her bag, forgetting her wounds, but was instantly reminded by the pain. She whimpered quietly, trying to hide how bad it really hurt, but Asher’s keen hearing had to have picked it up.
And he was at her back in a second. “Stand still.” He checked her dressings, and then took the bag from her hands. “I’ll carry this.”
“Really, you don’t have to.”
“Yes, I do. You’re going to rip your wounds open if I don’t.”
She was about to argue some more, but decided just to let him. It was nice to have someone help, even if he was mixing his signals so much he was making her head spin.
“You confuse me, you know that, right?”
“No more than you do me,” he snickered.
“What do you have to be confused about?” Her thoughts turned quickly back to the kiss. It had felt so nice, and yet he’d switched off all emotion the second it was over.
“Nothing.” Stoicism was back in his expression and tone. Another confusing signal.
“Great. Now that that’s settled. Oh, look, there’s Diana!” She snatched her bag from Asher’s grip, slung it over her undamaged side, and left him without another word.
Di, on the other hand, looked as if she had more than a few for Giselle.
“Do you want to be part of this pack or not?” Her tone spoke volumes about her anger, even if only Giselle could hear it. Thankfully the rest of the kids in the hall were too occupied with their own lives to eavesdrop on her lecture.
“You know I do. I am just doing my... homework.”
“Where were you at lunch?”
She hadn’t told Di about her back. And unconsciously, her hand went to her neck, fingers caressing the scarf concealing her wounds. “I needed to step out for some real food. You know the cafeteria doesn’t cut it during that time of the month. I needed real meat.”
Di snorted, clearly not convinced. “I could have gone too.”
“Sorry. I’m not used to thinking like a pack.”
“And you never will if you keep this up.” Di sounded more hurt than angry, but Giselle was in no mood to rehash the same conversation they’d been having for days. How many times would they need to go round and round on this topic? If this was what being in a pack was like, why bother?
She was never more thankful to see Ms. Freeman call the class to order.
“Gotta go.” Giselle squeezed past Di and headed into the room.
She practically threw herself into her seat without even a passing glance at Damien. He’d not missed her rough entrance at all, however. “Fighting with your sister already?”
“Don’t ask,” Giselle huffed.
“But I did ask. And the offer still stands if you want to ride with me this weekend.”
Ash walked into class and took his seat, glancing back quickly at Giselle.
She turned away from him, still utterly confused by what had happened over lunch. “What? Where?” She’d completely forgotten she’d made any plans.
“I’m hurt.” Damien sounded anything but hurt, but the words brought her attention right where he wanted... on him. “Mount Charleston? Skiing? Ring any bells?”
“Shit. Yes. Sorry. Bad day. Don’t think I’m a bitch or anything.”
“Language, Ms. Richards,” Ms. Freeman barked at her from the front of the class. “And let’s all please come to order.”
Giselle glanced quickly over to Damien and those irresistible puppy-dog eyes. “I’m still riding with Diana and Taylor, but I’m looking forward to seeing you.”
Not the answer he’d been hoping for; that was evident by the hard line of his jaw. But he’d have to accept it. She was not ready to play games with more than one boy, and Ash was already screwing with her mind.