Wild Invitation

1
    LARA WOKE SKIN-TO-SKIN with a long, hard male body, her head tucked under his chin, her hands against his chest, her legs intertwined with his. Lean muscle and a rough masculine heat, he surrounded her, possessed her.
    As she did him.
    Eyes still closed, she luxuriated in the scent of dark water and snow-dusted firs…and the exquisite tug of a bond that tied her inexorably to the quiet, powerful telepath who was the only man she had ever wanted to call her own.
    Mine.
    Opening her eyes on that primal thought, she flexed her hand on the tensile strength of Walker’s chest, the firm surface covered with a sprinkling of dark blond that was an invitation to her senses. Her wolf rubbed up against the inside of her skin, unable to contain its delight, wanting only to touch, to pet.
    “Unconditional skin privileges.”
    That’s what her mate had given her. And she had every intention of taking advantage, her thirst for him endless. How could it be otherwise when he was such an intelligent, dangerous, beautiful man? The ease of sleep did nothing to hide the fact that he was built lean and strong. Wide shoulders, ridged abdomen, taut muscle, and a will akin to steel, this was a man who would stand unflinching against any wind. And he was
hers
, touched her with a devotion that was breathtaking in its passion, piercing in its honesty.
    Shivering at the painful beauty of the bond that connected them, she shifted to look down into a face that was all clean angles and sun-golden skin, which betrayed how much time hespent out of doors. His lashes threw crescent shadows on his cheeks, his dark blond hair threaded with the finest sprinkling of silver.
    Butterflies in her stomach.
    He was, she thought, one of those men who would only become better looking with age, the determined force of his personality reflected on his face. Given that he was already the sexiest man she knew, she was going to be in serious trouble as the years passed—a single look, and she had the feeling she’d fold like cooked spaghetti.
    The thought of growing old with him made her blood turn effervescent, the natural dark tan of her skin turn radiant with warmth. Unable to hold in the happiness, she pushed back her unruly curls and leaned down to brush her mouth over his, felt his lips curve the slightest fraction. “I knew you were awake.” The wolf that was her other half scampered playfully inside her mind.
    He ran his hand up and down her back. “Is it time to get up?”
    Lara wouldn’t have bothered checking the time if not for Marlee and Toby, pups who were under Walker’s protection…and now her own. Her family. One was his daughter, the other his nephew, but he was father to them both, this man who had been willing to give up his life on the slim chance that the children would find sanctuary in SnowDancer.
    “No,” she said after a quick glance at the small comm unit on the bedside table. “It’s been less than an hour.” An hour of peace, the battle won, the enemy routed so decisively they’d prove only a lack of intelligence should they decide to return.
    Lashes rising, irises of a striking light green meeting her own. Not soft. Walker would never be that. But his gaze was…open in a way it had never before been. Until she felt invited into him.
    Body aligned with the dark heat of his, she ran her finger through his hair and asked, “Are the kids okay?”
    He continued to stroke her back, the calluses on his palm creating sensual friction against her greedy skin.
    So long she’d waited for Walker’s touch.
    It had torn her to pieces, made her bleed when he’d told her this could never be, his soul too scarred by the emotionless chill that was Silence. Now she knew that though thepower-hungry Council had attempted to condition emotion out of him, they had never succeeded, his heart so powerful he’d managed to love even in the pitiless cage of the PsyNet.
    His daughter.
    His niece and nephew.
    His lost sister.
    His brother.
    They had been, and were, a family
because
of Walker, because he’d refused to allow them to fragment, refused to give up on any one of them, whether cold-eyed assassin or heartbroken child.
    “Yes, they’re fine,” he said in response to her question, no change in his expression to betray the fact he was in telepathic communication with the kids. “Toby and his friends are shooting hoops with Drew, and Marlee’s with Ava.”
    “Ava’s a good friend.” Given the speed and accuracy of the pack