Falling for the Billionaire Wolf and His Baby Page 6

  He put the chicken back in the oven. “I’ll wait.”

  She looked at him, surprised. “You don’t have to.”

  She was right, he didn’t. He didn’t need to eat in the kitchen with his assistant and the baby. He owned the house. He was her employer. The last thing he should do was spend more time with her… If anything, he should put space between them. Before this…this…connection twisted into something risky for them both.

  But her green gaze drew him in, warm and honest. This was where he wanted to be.

  Space. Now.

  “I think I’ll go for a run.” The thought of stretching his legs and sweating it out was vastly appealing.

  She nodded. “Enjoy your run.”

  Did she look disappointed? Did it matter? He left the room without another word. He was angry, at himself. First he’d brought this on his friends, then he’d infected his son, and now he was going to pull Jessa into the mess? Because his wolf’s possessiveness for her was justification enough to drag her into his world? Hell, no.

  Of course, he’d become attached to her. She was caring for his son—a young, beautiful intelligent woman he also happened to have a raging hunger for. But attachment was a no-no. Hell, he’d made the goddamn rules.

  He changed into his running clothes and set off, following the path the city had recently put in. The cool evening, buzzing sounds of the city, and the brilliant light displays offered his senses a good distraction. He ran until he was dripping sweat and breathing hard. And then he pushed on until his lungs were aching and his legs were on fire. It felt good to push his body—even if the wolf begged to take over. He could shift at will. Next week, the moon was full and the wolf ruled. But tonight, Finn kept control.

  Control. He snorted.

  Beyond the whole is-he-a-werewolf thing, Finn had far more mundane concerns. He didn’t know a damn thing about fatherhood or what it meant to be a good, involved father. The thought of having to care for something so helpless terrified him. What if his son didn’t like him? Jessa said the baby was too little to know the difference but Finn wasn’t so sure.

  Which brought him back to Jessa. Could he trust Oscar’s care to someone other than Jessa? Did he want to…

  By the time he rode the elevator to the penthouse, he was wiped out. He stalked down the dark hallway, pulling off his soaked shirt as he went. He needed a steaming hot shower and a scotch. After that, he’d think about eating.

  He paused at Jessa’s door. It was cracked, but the room was dark. He pushed in, slowly, glancing at her bed. Empty. Oscar lay on his back in his crib. He crept forward, staring at the small bundle. Oscar was breathing rapidly. Too rapidly. He frowned, reaching out his hand in the dark, his palm against Oscar’s chest.

  His son. It was only Oscar’s small, warm, body, the rapid thrum of the baby’s heartbeat under his palm. And yet, Finn grew disoriented, short of breath, his skin scorched—as if his flesh had been branded. He stiffened, his hand, his palm, burning. Finn pulled back, clenching his hand and shaking his head. A million indistinguishable whispers filled his mind, a thousand unrestrained emotions clutched in on his heart. He couldn’t think, couldn’t sift through the noise or sensations. He stumbled out into the hall on unsteady legs.

  “Finn?” It was Jessa. “Are you all right?”

  His hand fisted at his side, burning, throbbing. “I… I’m good.” He leaned against the wall, dragging in deep lung-fuls of air and focusing on Jessa’s face. Her concern.

  “Can I get you anything?” she asked.

  Could she make the noise end? Make the heat singeing his hand stop radiating up the length of his arm and into his chest? He didn’t know what was happening to him. Whatever it was, she couldn’t help him. Why did she have to look like she cared—about him? And why the hell did being so close to her draw such a fierce reaction. “Where were you?” he snapped.

  She frowned. “I was eating—”

  “You left the monitor in my office.” He stared at her, directing all his pent-up frustrations at her. “How would you have heard him if he needed you?” Maybe, if he was hard enough on her, she’d stay away from him. Maybe, if he pushed her away, he could stay away. “Something could have happened—”

  She held up the monitor, her hand shaking. “I realized where it was after you went on your run. I wouldn’t have left him otherwise.” She hesitated then reached for him, her hand settling on his arm. “Are you sure you’re okay? You might be overheated. Let me get you some water.”

  Her touch was a balm against his scorched skin. He glanced at her hand, terrified by the effect she had on him. He ran a hand over his face. “I’m sorry, Jessa.”

  “It’s okay. I–I can’t imagine what you’re feeling. But…” She hesitated, drawing his attention back to her. “I’m here, if you need me for anything.”

  He hadn’t realized he was reaching for her. Hadn’t realized how soft the skin of her shoulders would feel beneath his fingers. But he shuddered at the contact. His hunger was hard and fast, gripping him so tightly that breathing was difficult. It would be so easy to pull her close, to take what he wanted. And right now, there was nothing he wanted more.

  “Drink some water, Finn,” her voice wavered as she stepped back, severing the connection. “I–I put your plate in the microwave.”

  He stared at her closed door. The wolf told him to follow her, to touch her again, claim her. So, he turned and headed toward the kitchen. No more thinking or analyzing tonight. No more revelations. He ate his meal and downed a gallon of water.

  …

  Jessa navigated the stroller through the bustling farmer’s market along the river, Greg the bodyguard trailing behind. She loved walking through the newly restored brewery and warehouse area. It was a bright autumn day, the air was crisp, the sky blue, and she’d been in desperate need of some fresh air. She’d hidden in her room until Finn had left, then packed them up for a long walk. She’d barely slept, caught up in whatever Finn had stirred to life the night before. He seemed to have some sort of power over her. His simple touch sparking a desire that had yet to fade. It scared her, to feel so strongly for a man that held her future in his hands.

  A man she needed to remember was off-limits.

  She shoved her brooding aside, and wandered through the marketplace. She and Oscar had made the trek twice already, enjoying the mix of people and quiet. She turned into the newly created park, admiring the small statues and public art that had been incorporated along the pathway. Wind chimes, gnomes, faces on trees—she pushed the stroller around a sidewalk artist working in chalk to recreate a Monet painting.

  Oscar slept, so she wandered on. The autumn sun filtered through the mix of trees and shrubs to cast long shadows over the winding path. She shivered, moving into the sunlight and picking up the pace. Maybe it was the filtered light or the sudden silence, but she didn’t like being so isolated, even if it was in her head. No sound, no birdsong, no voices. She kept going, startling at the sudden snap of a twig. She glanced back over her shoulder, but saw no one. It was Greg, that’s all. He’d be coming down the path any second. But that didn’t stop her from sprinting until she came out on a wider path. She caught her breath, slowing her pace as she smiled at a dog-walker, nodded at an ancient couple shuffling along arm-in-arm, and dodged a group of runners. Oscar fussed, it was time for his bottle.

  She wasn’t the freak-out type, but something felt off—

  “How old is he?” the deep voice startled her. So did the pale blue eyes of the massive man suddenly walking at her side.

  Soft alarm bells made the hair on her arms and neck prick up. Where the hell had he come from? It’s not like he didn’t stand out. He did. So how had she missed him? And she couldn’t shake the sense she’d seen him before. She had. Maybe he lived nearby? And this was his jogging route. No need to get paranoid. Besides, Greg would be there any second. “A few weeks,” she managed.

  “A few weeks? Wow, you look great,” the man said, glancing at her hands.
“Ringless. Doing the single mom thing?”

  “No,” she lied. She spied the playground and tried to relax. She glanced at the path, searching for some sign of Greg. No need to panic surrounded by a dozen mothers, nannies, and twice as many children. “His father is meeting me here.”

  Pale blond brows rose. “Is he? Some guys have all the luck.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. No, the look was the opposite of friendly. Alarm turned to fear, though she tried not to let him see it. She stopped by a crowded bench, hoping he’d walk on.

  She glanced inside the stroller. Oscar wasn’t fussing. He’d curled into a ball, absolutely quiet and still.

  “I hate to sound cliché here, but do we know each other? Maybe a club? Or the gym? I feel like I…know you.” He had an accent. Eastern European? Nordic? She wasn’t sure.

  “No,” she said, worrying over Oscar. And there was still no sign of Greg.

  He stepped closer. “You sure? My instincts are normally spot-on.”

  “Probably walking here,” she answered, eager to send him on his way. Was he sniffing her? She sat, fighting the urge to run. Running would be bad. He would follow. She glanced at her phone, pretending she was getting a call. Where was Greg? “Need to take this.”

  He stepped back, looking inside the stroller once more. “I’ll see you next time.” He tipped his head her way and walked slowly down the path.

  He was leaving. So why was it still so hard to breathe? Her heart was hammering, her panic relentless—even as he wandered farther away. She wanted to run but was too frightened to move.

  Her phone rang, startling her so much she almost dropped it.

  “Yes?” she answered, her voice odd and high.

  “Where are you?” Finn snapped.

  “Finn. Thank God. I mean, hey.” She glanced down the path again, embarrassed when the woman on the bench beside her shot her a look.

  “Jessa?”

  “In the city park,” she said, watching the pale blond man saunter slowly down the path. “By the old brewery.”

  “Something’s wrong, I can hear it in your voice.” Finn pushed.

  “It’s nothing,” she clarified. “I think.” She was overreacting.

  There was a pause. “What’s nothing?”

  She glanced down the path, but the tall blond stranger was gone. Oscar began to wail. She scooped him up, holding him close to her. He quieted instantly. “It’s probably nothing—”

  “Then tell me.”

  “A man,” she murmured into the phone. “He was just—a little too curious, too friendly.”

  “Where’s Greg?”

  “I don’t know. He disappeared. It’s just…I’m scared. This sounds stupid. Forget it, okay?”

  “No. I’m sending Brown to you. Stay there.”

  “Who’s Brown?” she asked.

  “Head of my security team.”

  “Finn, I don’t think that’s necessary.” She was mortified. What if the man had just been hitting on her? It could happen. But…she knew it was something more. She’d never been so afraid.

  “I do.” He paused. “What did he look like?”

  “He was big. Tall. White-blond hair. Pale blue eyes.” She shivered.

  “I’ll be there in five minutes. Do not move.”

  “Finn—”

  But the line was dead.

  She made Oscar a bottle and fed him, his solid weight a comfort. But her nerves were on edge. She knew it was ridiculous, that no one cared what she was doing, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching her. No matter how adorable the tiny dog wearing a sweater was, or how funny the kids were on the playground, she couldn’t relax.

  “That guy’s back,” said the woman on the bench next to her. Jessa glanced at her. “The big one you were talking to? He’s at the end of the path on his phone.”

  “He is?” Her throat felt pinched. She shifted Oscar to her shoulder and patted him on the back.

  Maybe he was a reporter? It made sense. Oscar was probably big news by now. But Finn’s reaction was a little extreme for a reporter—surely.

  “No offense if he’s a friend of yours, but that guy is totally creeping me out.”

  “So it’s not just me?” she asked, relieved. Oscar burped.

  “No.” The woman sat her book down. “He’s watching you. Do we need to call for help?”

  She shook her head. One quick glance told her the man was watching, his pale blue eyes hard and cold. He grinned, as if he knew she was aware of him. Pacing back and forth, he made no attempt to hide what he was doing. He seemed to enjoy the affect he was having on her. “Someone’s coming to meet me,” Jessa told the woman. “But thanks.”

  “Think I’ll stay until they’re here,” she offered.

  “Thank you,” Jessa murmured, on the verge of tears. Finn would be here. Soon. But then she remembered his telephone conversation, and what he’d said. I can protect them.

  “Miss Talbot?”

  Jessa winced, shielding Oscar with both her arms, hating how terrified she was. This man, though, however big and burly he was, didn’t have the same stalking factor.

  “I’m Mr. Brown. Mr. Dean sent me.”

  Her relief was instantaneous. “Mr. Brown, the man is at the end of the path.” She wanted to point, but she didn’t.

  Mr. Brown didn’t turn his head. “I see him. And he sees me. It’s important that we get you out of the park before Mr. Dean gets here.”

  “Should I carry Oscar?” she asked, standing quickly and slipping her purse onto her shoulder. “Did you find Greg?”

  “He’s safer in the stroller,” he answered. “And I’m sure Greg is fine. Let’s go.”

  She nodded, reluctantly buckling Oscar into his stroller. She smiled her thanks at the woman and hooked her arm through Brown’s. “I told him I was waiting for the baby’s father,” she explained quickly. Though honestly, she needed someone to hold on to.

  Mr. Brown nodded.

  Her hands were shaking, so he took over pushing the stroller. “You’re doing well,” he said. “Almost to the car.”

  By the time Oscar was safely clipped into the car, Jessa was gasping for breath. She adjusted Oscar’s car-seat straps, then held on to his little foot. She wanted Oscar in her arms, back in Finn’s house. He yawned, his mouth forming a perfect ‘O’ before he drifted back to sleep.

  She burst into tears, the panic she’d barely managed to hold at bay crashing into her. Was she losing her mind? No. The other woman felt the threat, too. But why had the man singled her out? Why wasn’t the car moving yet? When the passenger door opened, she bit off a cry.

  “Jessa?” Finn’s voice was anguished.

  She shook her head, covering her face with her hands. “He’s fine.”

  “You’re not.” He climbed into the car and pulled her close, cradling her against his side. “But you will be. You’re safe.”

  She nodded, turning into him—needing his strength. She hadn’t realized just how terrified she was until now. Finn’s arm was firm around her, his hand gripping her upper arm tightly. He felt good. Her nose pressed against the collar of his shirt, filling her nostrils with his heady scent. Maybe after a few hours of this, she’d be able to stop shaking.

  His finger tilted her head back. “Look at me.”

  She did, mesmerized by the anger that blazed in his eyes.

  His voice was low, “You are safe.”

  She nodded. “I feel like an idiot,” her words shook. “He was just a man. And we were in a public place.”

  “Trust your instincts, Jessa.” His fingers smoothed the hair from her face. “What did they tell you?”

  “That he was dangerous,” she answered. “That running would be bad.”

  “Why?” he asked, his eyes narrowing.

  “It will sound crazy.”

  “It won’t,” he assured her.

  She swallowed, whispering, “He would chase us.” She watched his jaw clench. “Which sounds crazy. It does. No
thing happened. So why am I reacting this way?”

  “You did the right thing.” He took her hands in his, rubbing them together. “You’re probably suffering from mild shock.”

  “From what? Some random guy being too friendly?” her voice rose. “I don’t understand what happened?”

  “He would have chased you. He would have chased Oscar.” He waited, still rubbing her hands.

  His words were hardly comforting. “What?” she asked, a broken squeak of sound.

  He shook his head, his hold tightened around hers. “Do you trust me, Jessa?”

  She stared at him, still reeling from his words. “Yes.”

  He cradled her cheek in his hand. “Then trust me to take care of this.” His phone began to ring. But when she would have moved to her side of the seat, he tucked her against him.

  “Yes?” he answered. “He was here.”

  She tried to hear what the other person was saying, but no luck. The rough gravel of Finn’s voice and the heavy beat of his heart drowned out everything else

  “I want security at her home…” He paused, listening. “No. Now.” Another pause. “No, I don’t want him to know where we’ve gone. We need a distraction, something to throw them off their scent.” He paused. “Get back to me.”

  He hung up.

  “Finn,” she murmured, still clutching his jacket lapel. His words were a blur. Security at her home. “Are my brothers at risk?” she looked up at him.

  “No.” His eyes swept over her face, his arm tightening about her. “But they’ll have protection anyway.”

  “You have to tell me what’s going on.”

  He shook his head. “You wouldn’t believe me if I did.” His smile was hard. “All you need to know is that man and I have a history. A violent history.”

  She shuddered. “But—”

  “I think it’s best if we leave a little early for our trip. Until this is sorted out.” She heard the finality in his voice and pushed off his chest.

  “Until what’s sorted out?” She stared at him. “Thirty minutes ago I thought I was having some sort of mental break…thought I was imagining being followed. Now you’re telling me I was right. And that because of your past with this man, my family needs protection—”