Blackwolf's Redemption by Sandra Marton

wasn’t actually tired.
    “Bull,” he muttered as he strode past the fireplace again.
    Hell, he was exhausted. A man made poor decisions when his body and mind were worn out. But that kiss, that kiss…
    Jesse muttered a sharp expletive and kicked a glowing coal back onto the hearth.
    And he was stuck with her. He wouldn’t have turned a field mouse out on a night like this. Tomorrow, first thing, absolutely, he’d send her on her way, but for now—for now, he had no choice but to give her shelter.
    The fire was burning down. He’d forgotten to feed it. He’d forgotten more than that since Sienna Cummings turned up, he thought grimly.
    What had become of logic? Of self-control? Why in hell had he kissed her just now? Not once. Twice. And that second time, all restraint gone…
    He squatted before the hearth, added wood, poked at the glowing embers until the new logs caught with tendrils of orange flame.
    Okay. He’d already gone through this. He needed a woman. A soft female body beneath his. He was a man, with a man’s instincts, and living like a hermit was not a good thing…but that wasn’t enough to explain what had happened.
    Kissing a woman the way he’d kissed this one…
    His intruder.
    His beautiful intruder.
    His terrified intruder.
    And she was that. Terrified. Not of having been caughtstealing. She wasn’t a thief. He knew that now. She was scared of something else, something more….
    But not of him.
    When he’d kissed her she’d kissed him back. Melted in his arms, her mouth hot on his. He could have taken her then….
    The storm was still raging, the power was off, the roads were undoubtedly blocked and here he was, pacing like a caged tiger, getting himself as worked up as a schoolboy and over what?
    A kiss.
    He had more important things to worry about. The horses, for instance. He hadn’t given them a thought in hours.
    Lightning flashed outside the window as he headed for the kitchen, shoved his feet into dry boots, grabbed a rain slicker and a flashlight, then went out the back door at a trot. There were only a few animals in the barn and most had calm dispositions, but the intensity of the storm might have spooked them. He’d talk to them, feed them. That was lots better than wasting time thinking about a woman he’d never see after tomorrow.
    Keeping busy was, as always, the ticket to success.
     
    The horses were fine.
    They whinnied their greetings, butted velvet noses against his shoulder as he went from stall to stall. He gave them buckets of oats, dug a handful of mints from a box near the door, gave each animal the much-coveted treat, refilled water buckets, spoke softly and reassuringly. A barn cat meowed for attention and wound sinuously around his ankles; he bent down, stroked it, smiled at its thousand-decibel purr.
    Eventually, despite his best efforts, there was nothing left to do but return to the house.
    He dripped water over the mudroom floor, hung up the slicker, toed off his boots and headed for the living room. Thehouse was cold and getting colder by the minute. Even the warm spot before the fireplace seemed narrower than before.
    What about the bedroom? It had to be like Siberia.
    So what? Sienna had his robe. His bed. She was warm enough. Besides, that wasn’t his problem. He’d given her food, shelter, something dry to wear….
    “Hell,” he muttered, and headed down the dark hall, candle in hand.
    He’d knock. Wait for her response. Better to wake her than run the risk of letting her freeze off that cute little ass.
    He reached the bedroom door. Took a couple of breaths. Knocked. Nothing. He knocked again. “Sienna?” No reply. He tried again, louder this time. “Sienna? Are you okay?”
    Still nothing.
    Jesse started to turn away. A muscle jumped in his jaw. He tried the doorknob but she’d followed orders and thrown the bolt.
    What he hadn’t bothered mentioning was that the bolt didn’t always work.
    He blew out the candle and entered the room quietly.