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to hear that.” Her manner becoming businesslike, she held out her hand. “I’m Ellen Reese and I owe you a debt of gratitude.”

      “Peter Whitley,” he replied, accepting the handshake.

      Ellen had shaken hands with a great many men, but never had she been so aware of the contact. Her first impression was strength, then came the roughness of his work-callused palms. But the most disconcerting was the warmth. His hand was still cold from his recent trip outside, and yet a heat. raced up her arm. Breaking the contact swiftly, she again took a step back.

      His impatient frown returned. “You can have the bedroom. I’ll take the loft.”

      “I don’t want to put you out,” she said, again feeling like an unwelcome intruder.

      In spite of her bravado, Peter sensed her continued fear. “The bedroom door has a lock on it. I figure you’ll feel safer in there. I wouldn’t want to have you lying awake all night worrying.”

      She was about to say she wouldn’t worry, but the words died in her throat. He sounded honestly disinterested in her, but recent events warned her to distrust what any man said. “Thanks.” Not wanting to admit that he was the entire reason she wanted the locked door, she added, “I’m not so sure your friend’s wolf likes me.”

      Peter had to admit the animal could be intimidating. He recalled the first evening he’d spent in the wolf’s company. No human had ever studied him so thoroughly. “He takes his time to decide how he feels about people. But he won’t hurt you. He’ll accept my decision to allow you to stay with us.”

      “That’s encouraging,” she said dryly, letting her tone tell him she wasn’t so certain she should take his word for that. “Does he have a name?”

      “Bane.” The animal had risen and was now standing by Peter. He looked up when his name was mentioned, and Peter petted him fondly. “Jack Greenriver, the owner of this cabin, found him when he was a pup. He was wandering around the woods alone, nearly starved to death. Jack figured his mother had been killed by a mountain lion or hunters. He never found her den or the rest of her brood. He brought Bane home and nursed him back to health with the intention of releasing him into the wild once he was strong enough. Jack even taught Bane how to hunt so that he could survive on his own, and he never gave him a name, just called him wolf. But when he tried to send him back into the woods, Bane continued to hang around the cabin. That’s when Jack started referring to him as the Bane of his existence. But the truth is, he’d grown as fond of Bane as Bane had of him, so they formed what Jack likes to refer to as an alliance, and Bane remained.”

      Peter gave the wolf’s head a playful rub. “It’s Bane you owe your life to. He’s the one who realized someone had turned into the drive and insisted on going out to investigate. When I heard him howling, I knew something was wrong. Then I heard you honking.”

      “Thanks,” she addressed the wolf.

      He tilted his head, and she had the feeling he was studying her, but he made no move toward her. After a moment he returned to his place by the hearth and, laying his head on his paws, closed his eyes as if to say he was turning over the guarding of the cabin to Peter.

      Peter picked up her suitcase and overnight bag and carried them into the bedroom. Returning to the living area, he headed to the refrigerator. “How about some dinner? I was just getting ready to make corn bread and heat up some of the chili I made yesterday,” he offered.

      “Sounds good,” she replied, suddenly realizing how hungry she was. “What can I do to help?”

      Keep your distance, was the response that flashed through Peter’s mind. Like he’d told her, he wasn’t a crazed backwoodsman, but he was only human, and she filled out that sweater and those jeans in all the right spots. “I can handle getting dinner on the table on my own. Just make yourself comfortable.” He motioned toward the study door. “There’s a phone in there. Feel free to make a call and let whoever is waiting for you know you’re going to be delayed. If they’re from around here, just tell them you’re at Jack Greenriver’s place. If not, say you’re between Colebrook and West Stewardtown.”

      “No one is expecting me.” The minute the words were out she regretted them. Silently she berated herself for not making him think someone would be keeping an eye out for her. She studied his face for any clue that she’d made a gigantic mistake. What she saw was disbelief.

      “This is not the kind of weather to be out for a Sunday drive in.”

      “I had a destination,” she returned in her defense.

      “And where was that?”

      “I’d promised myself I’d see Canada. I’ve never seen Canada.”

      Suspicion spread over his face. She had that innocent, girl-next-door kind of look, but he’d been tricked before. “Are you running from the law?”

      She scowled. “No.” His gaze remained locked on her, and she had the feeling he wasn’t certain if he should believe her. “It’s a man. All right?” She’d meant to stop there, but the anger she’d been suppressing took control. “My fiancé, Charles. I didn’t want to be in the same country with him.”

      “You nearly got yourself frozen to death because of a lovers’ quarrel?”

      The “I can’t believe anyone could be so stupid” look in his eyes grated on her nerves. But she couldn’t fault him. “I’ll admit I acted a bit rashly. I regret it. It certainly won’t happen again. Now can we drop this subject?”

      Whoever Charles was, he had a tiger by the tail with this one, Peter thought. “I’ve always made it a point to stay out of the middle of lovers’ spats.”

      Her scowl darkened. “This was a great deal more than a spat.” Abruptly she clamped her mouth shut. She’d said enough. As she started toward the couch, a sudden worry came to mind. She’d called Paul Saunders, her supervisor, and explained that she needed to take a few vacation days effective immediately. She’d told him it was a family emergency. To her relief he hadn’t asked any questions. He’d simply told her to take the time she needed. But she hadn’t called her parents. They would have wanted an explanation, which she hadn’t been ready to give. And she’d been in no mood to be diplomatically evasive. “I will take you up on the offer of the phone. Charles will probably think I ran home to Kansas City to my parents. He’ll call them, and they’ll worry. If you don’t mind, I’ll tell them I’m visiting a friend.”

      He gave a shrug of indifference and returned to making the corn bread. Out of the corner of his eye he caught the enticing little wiggle she had when she walked. A scowl spread over his face. She was already spoken for. Only a fool would consider getting involved with a woman who was in love with another man, and he was no fool.

      Alone in the study, she made the call. Still unable to talk about the scene that had sent her on this insane drive, she simply reassured her parents that she was fine and that she just needed a few days away. After obtaining their word that they wouldn’t reveal her whereabouts to anyone, she gave them the phone number for the cabin in case they needed to contact her.

      “You’re just having a little case of cold feet,” her mother soothed. “It will pass. After all, you’ve been waiting a long time for the right man.”

      “I’m really not in the mood to talk right now,” Ellen replied firmly, and said a quick goodbye before her mother could do any serious prying.

      Wrapping her arms around herself, she stared out the window at the storm beyond. She’d lied; she didn’t feel fine. Beneath her anger was the pain of betrayal, and it hurt worse than she’d ever imagined anything could hurt.

      Chapter Two

      Ellen dried the last pan and put it away. She’d insisted on cleaning up after dinner, partially because it was the polite thing to do and partially to keep busy. When they’d first sat down at the table, she’d prepared herself to discourage any further conversation

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