A nugget of hope rattled the cage of Britt's growing despair. Not many people could recite the number of endangered species in their state. Hell, he only knew because of the research he'd been doing in the last year. So, why would Randi-someone who'd shunned the environment for more than a decade-know such a thing?

"In 1980, the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service declared the species extinct in the wild. Through a successful reintroduction program, the species has made a small comeback, but none have been known to exist this far west since the late nineties. Until now."

Randi sucked in a sharp breath. "A canid?"

"Yes."

"Red wolf." Awe wove between the two short words. She didn't ask him to confirm or doubt her answer. "A breeding pair?"

"And a litter this year."

She covered her mouth with shaking hands, then lifted her wonder-filled gaze to his. "Show me."

12.

Randi hit the alarm button as soon as the sound of ocean waves and seagulls began at 4:00 a.m. the next morning. Excitement vibrated through her veins. She was going to see the fabled red wolf in the wild today-and pups!

It had taken her forever to fall asleep, knowing what lay in store for her today. When Britt had said to meet him at 5:00 a.m., she hadn't even blinked. She would have gotten up at three, if he'd asked.

Turning on the shower, Randi shed her pajama bottoms and T-shirt while waiting for the water to warm up. How had the wolves survived so long? Her mother had often mentioned the challenges the red wolf faced-mixing with coyotes, lack of protected land, laws that allowed livestock owners to kill them.

Randi couldn't even guess how many letters her mother had sent to the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, urging them to put more resources toward the wolves' protection. Despite all that, a full-blooded breeding pair had survived the defunct Great Smoky Mountain program.

There must be more. How else could the pair she was about to see exist? If memory served, the Smoky Mountain program closed down in the mid-nineties. Which meant more purebloods might be in the area.

She threw on tan cargo pants, a dark blue cami, and an olive-green button-down long-sleeved shirt. She laced up her Columbia hiking boots before dabbing on some mascara and a bit of under-eye concealer and foundation. Natural beauty she was not.

She tossed a hairbrush, ponytail holder, small fleece blanket, first-aid kit, binoculars, and an extra pair of socks into a rucksack. From the kitchen she added four power bars, four water bottles, her wallet, phone, solar charger, tin of mints, and ball cap.

She peered into the pockets of her stuffed rucksack, feeling as though she was forgetting something important. This sort of thing used to be second nature to her, but time and neglect had made her rusty.

Shrugging, she cinched up all the openings and stuck her keys inside the leg pocket of her lightweight pants before heading out the door. If she forgot something, she would have to do without. It wasn't as if she were embarking on a multiday hike along the Appalachian Trail. Anything she needed was a short drive away.

Randi pulled down Britt's driveway with five minutes to spare. She took the opportunity to brush her wild hair and secure it in a ponytail holder before slapping her favorite lid on top.

Exiting her vehicle, she swung the rucksack over one shoulder. Exhilaration made her light on her feet and a strange rightness settled over her. Feelings she didn't quite understand and didn't have time to explore.

Britt emerged from his cabin, wearing similar attire and gear, sans ball cap. He was gorgeous in an earthy, masculine way. A way that appealed to her so much more than slick city guys.

After giving her an appreciative once-over, he nodded toward his truck. "Jump in."

She placed her rucksack on the floorboard between her legs before fastening her seatbelt. He threw his backpack in the extended cab seat behind them, where he'd already stored his antenna and tracking equipment. Realization hit.

"Last week, when I found you near the creek, you'd just come from visiting the wolves."

"Guilty."

"Why the deception? Why not tell me about the pack then?"

"Only those who need to know about the Steele-Shepherd pack know about them."

For some reason, the exclusion hurt. The logical part of her mind mocked her to get real, the elemental side screamed for acceptance-even if unearned.

Britt pulled off the main road and drove down a narrow track. With the sun still behind the mountain, she couldn't tell how visible the road was from the main drag.

"Do you have trouble with others driving down this road-or whatever you call it?"

"No. We're on Steele property now."

In other words, no one messed with the Steele family.

"It's good you wore long sleeves and pants. Bug spray would give away our location."

"I hate the stuff, anyway."

He drew to a stop and turned off the truck. "So I noticed."

Heat smothered her cheeks. Well, if she'd had any doubts about him seeing her with her pants down, his comment had just obliterated that fantasy. Thank goodness he couldn't see her reaction in the dark.

"How long until we reach the den?"

"About thirty minutes." He flipped on his flashlight. "Ready?"

It was then that Randi realized what she'd forgotten. She had pretty good night vision, but the terrain appeared rugged and no telling how much moonlight filtered through the dense canopy. She would just have to wing it.

"Lead the way."

"No flashlight?"

"With a partial moon?" She'd read an autobiography of a Delta Force operator who never used a flashlight because it ruined his night vision. Sounded good to her. "Not necessary."

He glanced down at his flashlight, then turned it off. "We'll try it your way."

Surprised, Randi smiled, eliciting one of his render-a-female-speechless grins in return.

The terrain was indeed challenging, though Britt managed to guide them around some of the more hazardous areas, using the precious sprays of moonlight that lit their path at different intervals. She'd expected the woods to go silent upon their arrival. However, the insects and tree frogs continued their melodic, pulsing hum without interruption. Almost as if they'd accepted them into their home.

For a quarter hour, they said nothing. Conversation became taboo, unnecessary. They used hand signals to warn each other of danger. The only sound between them was the crunch of forest debris beneath their boots.

Randi opened her senses in a way she hadn't allowed herself in a long time. Beyond the deafening hum, she detected the mournful cry of a bobcat and the soulful hoot of a great horned owl. A hundred scents assaulted her nose at once-damp, loamy earth, spicy pine resin, and sweet flowering raspberry.

Tension she'd lived with for weeks now drifted away on the gentle breeze weaving through the trees. The occasional annoying mosquito failed to diminish her enjoyment.

She missed this. Missed the freedom, missed the thrill of discovery. Missed...her mom, her family, her old life.

Emotion stung her nose and eyes, yet no tears fell. She would not allow nostalgia to ruin this morning's adventure. She would absorb every minute. It could be a long time before she ventured into the sticks again.

Britt paused, motioning her forward. Leaning close, he whispered into her ear. "We're not far from the den." The humid warmth of his breath sent a shiver of awareness all the way to her toes. "Be more mindful of where you step."

She lifted her gaze to his, intending to nod her acknowledgment. What little light penetrated the canopy shone behind him, casting his face in shadow. Which meant hers was not.

Three seconds of agonizing, breath-stealing stillness ticked by before he lifted a hand and smoothed the backs of two fingers down her cheek. Anticipation licked along her flesh. Randi ached to lean her body into his, longed to run her fingers over the fine hairs at the back of his neck.

But she did none of those things, because he turned and, on soundless feet, continued down an invisible trail.

Randi released an unsteady breath. Twice now, his touch had driven her into a state of mindless, burning need. Twice, he'd walked away as if unaffected by the contact. Twice, she'd simply watched him go, gobsmacked.

Hefting her rucksack higher on her back, she followed as soundless as he, though the curses firing through her head could have awoken a hibernating bear. If she hadn't feared stepping into a hole or off the edge of a bluff, she would have flame-fried his broad, retreating back with her stare.

Finally, Britt motioned for her to slow down. He bent at the waist, shrugging out of his backpack while he inched closer to an unseen object. Randi followed suit, her eyes straining to see.

When Britt went down on hands and knees, then slithered the last few feet military style, Randi dropped to her knees. She struggled to keep the contents of her rucksack quiet while she shuffled forward on one hand and two knees. Britt had made the maneuver look so effortless, damn him. The moment she finally belly-crawled up alongside him, she sent up a silent prayer that she hadn't given their presence away.

Once again, Britt spoke close to her ear. The faint scent of his soap reached her before his words. "Still too dark." He nuzzled her earlobe, and Randi angled her ear toward him for greater contact. "Listen."

Listen? How could she hear anything past the pounding of her heart?

Randi pushed her senses to go beyond the man beside her. It took several seconds before she heard the excited play of wakening pups below them. She smiled at the happy noise-part impish yips, part fierce growls.

She itched to pull her binoculars from her bag, but the sun was only now starting to crest the mountain. So she lay there with her eyes closed, listening. Doing her best to ignore the large male body next to her.

"Randi."

He said her name in a low, thick voice. The kind a lover uses when on the verge of release. She sent him a sidelong glance, though her attention never made it beyond his full, achingly close lips. She wanted to taste them, nip at them, drink from them.

Pluck a biscuit. She was going insane. Lust-induced insanity.

He tilted her cap back, and his amazing lips drew closer and closer until they molded hers into a warm, erotic embrace. Randi did not allow herself to think. In that direction lay only sexual frustration.

Instead she pushed into his kiss, taking it deeper, more demanding. His tongue swept inside her mouth, teasing hers to come out and play. She did. The kiss became bolder, yet neither moved to touch the other. Only their lips and tongues made contact. Luscious, hot, soul-stimulating contact.

Sunlight sprayed across their faces, warming their flesh, their blood, their breaths. Try as she might, she could not break away or stem the need pulsing through her veins.

Britt's willpower proved stronger than hers. He slowed the kiss, bringing it to a sweet end. Then he rested his forehead against hers, their labored breaths mingling with each other's.

Pressing his lips against her forehead, he asked, "Did you bring binoculars?"

She nodded, unable to form words against the tightness in her throat.

"Now would be a good time to put them to use. Skooch up a bit more, then look to two o'clock. The den is at the base of a giant oak tree."

After moving closer to the bluff's edge, she unbuckled the front pocket of her rucksack and retrieved her binoculars with a shaky hand. She snapped off the lens protectors and positioned the soft rubber eyecups against her face.

Finding the focus wheel, she rolled the knob until the landscape below became crisp and so close it felt like she could reach out and touch the leaves on the ephemerals below. She scanned the area Britt indicated in a methodical back-and-forth motion until she located the exposed roots of a large tree, a two-foot dark hole tucked within.

"Found it," she whispered. "But I don't see the pups."

Britt peered below with his set of binoculars. "They might have gone back inside. Right now, they don't venture too far from the safety of the den."

No sooner had he spoken the words than a pair of pups crept to the opening. Their little faces, so innocent and curious, surveyed their surroundings with an intentness learned from observing their parents. Deeming the area free of danger, they moved a few more feet into the clearing. One of the pups crouched down, following his sibling. When the other pup came within a few feet, the crouching pup pounced.

They rolled and ran and cried and glanced around. Their energy had no limits, and soon the other pups joined their antics. When an adult came into view, their joy trebled.

"That's the breeding male," Britt whispered. "Apollo." An adult emerged from the den. "And that's the breeding female. Calypso."

The two greeted each other, nose-to-nose.

Randi had no idea how long she lay there with her eyes glued to the red wolves. It could have been hours or only minutes, so mesmerized was she. When Britt tapped her on the shoulder and motioned for her to back away, Randi's chest contracted painfully against the loss.

She snatched one last, long look before saying good-bye.

The trip back to Old Blue turned out to be as silent as their hike to the den. Britt had expected Randi's obvious pleasure at having viewed the wolves to have intensified after leaving their perch at the top of the bluff. He waited for her to pepper him with questions about their research or when the pups would start hunting on their own. Anything. Hell, he wouldn't have minded if she'd brought up that mind-blowing kiss. But she asked nothing. If she had any thoughts on what she'd witnessed, she kept them to herself.

As for him, a million probing questions sat on the tip of his tongue. Somehow he managed to keep them from emerging in order to give her time to process whatever was troubling her.

When they stopped in front of his cabin, he couldn't take it any longer. "Well?"

"Well, what?"

He gripped the underside of the steering wheel, hard. "What did you think about the pack?"

Her serious expression transformed into a grateful smile. "I never thought I'd see red wolves in the wild. Thank you for sharing such a precious gift. I'll never forget it."

"Does this mean you'll sell the property to me?"

The moment her smile faded, Britt's stomach crashed to the ground.

"Do you have the funds now?"

"Dammit, you know I don't." He threw his door open with such force that the entire truck shook. "Nothing's changed since yesterday. Not my financial situation, or your cold heart."