“No. I bought that on impulse one day, and didn’t even realize I’d packed it. But I’m glad I did.” In a habitual gesture, she brushed at the hair that had come loose from her braid. “You must have seen him.” She eased forward, the delight in her large, dark eyes nearly irresistible. “The black wolf that comes around.”

He continued to look into her eyes, straight in, as he enjoyed his wine. “I can’t say I have.”

“Oh, but I’ve seen him nearly every day since I came. He’s gorgeous, and doesn’t seem as wary of people as you’d expect. He came into the clearing right before the storm tonight. And sometimes I hear him calling, or it seems I do. Haven’t you?”

“I’m closer to the sea,” he told her. “That’s what I listen to. A wolf is a wild thing, Rowan, as I’m sure your book has told you. And a rogue, one who runs alone, the wildest of all.”

“I wouldn’t want to tame him. I’d say we’re just curious about each other at this point.” She glanced toward the window, wondered if the wolf had found a warm, dry place for the night. “They don’t hunt for sport,” she added, absently tossing her braid behind her back. “Or out of viciousness. They hunt to feed. Most often they live in packs, families. Protect their young, and—” She broke off, jumping a little when lightning flashed bright and close.

“Nature’s a violent thing. It only tolerates the rest of us. Nature can be generous or ruthless.” He put the book aside. “You have to have care in how you deal with it, and you’ll never understand it.”

Their knees were brushing, their bodies close. She caught the scent of him, sharply male, almost animal and absolutely dangerous. His lips curved in a smile as he nodded. “Exactly so,” he murmured, then set his glass aside and rose. “I’ll start the generator for you. You’ll be happier with some electricity.”

“Yes, I suppose you’re right.” She got to her feet, wondering why her heart was pounding. It had nothing to do with the storm raging outside now, and everything to do with the one so suddenly brewing inside her. “Thank you for helping.”

“It’s not a problem.” He wasn’t going to let it be a problem. “It’ll only be a moment.” Briefly, lightly, his fingers danced over the back of her hand. “It was good wine,” he murmured, and walked out to the kitchen.