Claimed (The Lair of the Wolven #1) by J.R. Ward

Lydia put the phone up to her ear, her brows drawing together again. “Um … hello? Ah, yes.” She shot him a glare that was all about the this-is-not-the-time. “I—ah, sorry. Did you have an employee by the name of Daniel Joseph—oh? Oh, good. Well, my name is Lydia Susi and he’s applied for a job with the nonprofit I work for. You’re listed as a reference for him—oh? Oh. Really?”

As she went back to staring out the gap between the boards, there was a series of pauses. Then some more affirmatory commentary from her.

After which she hung up just as out at the barn, the newscaster put her phone up to her ear.

“What did they say?” Daniel asked.

“They loved you.” She glanced at him. “They said you went above and beyond, even in small things. They said they’d rehire you in a second. Congratulations.”

He took the phone from her. As he went into his contacts again, she spoke up. “You already have the job. We don’t need to—”

“This is not about the job.” He hit send and then pushed the phone back at her. “Go on. Take it—”

“Daniel.”

“Or are you going to talk to me about what happened to you. Your choice.”

She batted the cell away. “We’re up in a tree—”

“I know where we are. Talk to them or talk to me.”

“Are you always this pushy?”

“Are you always this hard-headed?”

As they glared at each other, Lydia took the phone, ended the call, and put the cell in her own pocket. “You get it back when you stop dialing.”

Daniel blinked. And then had to laugh softly. “Did you just put me in a time out?”

“Yes, I did. Now be a good boy and give me a little more time up here. Or no dessert.”

Lydia returned to the crack in the boards—and he couldn’t help it. His eyes traced over her shoulders and down the curve of her spine.

Dessert sounded great, he thought.

And the fact that he wanted her on his double entendre menu was a cliché. Then again, he was pretty sure she could say anything in any situation and he’d be able to find a horizontal inference.

A lick of time. Let’s touch base. Play your cards right.

Even single words weren’t safe from his dumb handle’s bright ideas.

Potato, for example.

Damn, he was a sick fuck.

Focusing on her profile, he felt a twist in his gut that had nothing to do with anything hot and bothered.

“What did they do to you, Lydia,” he said grimly.





BEFORE LYDIA COULD respond to Daniel’s stark demand, she had an eerie sense of warning tickle its way across her nape.

Twisting around, she found a different gap in the boards that let her look out away from the barn. As she tried to identify what had gotten her attention, her heart rate tripled. Just as she was getting frustrated with herself—

A man was coming through the trees, heading right for the deer stand. Dressed in a black, military-style uniform, he had a black ball cap that was pulled down low to hide his face, and all kinds of weapons holstered on his hips and strapped to his back.

“Oh … God,” she whispered.

Next to her, Daniel had noticed as well and was rolling to the side so he could look out another knothole.

Closer. Closer. So that now, she could hear the soft footfalls on the damp ground. As Lydia’s nose started to itch, she rubbed it. Rubbed it again. If she sneezed—

The man was thirty feet away. Twenty. Ten.

And he stopped.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she trembled and clamped a hand on her mouth. Questions like who he was and who he worked for were so much less important than whether or not he was going to take one of those guns he had on and fill the stand full of lead.

Her heart pounded so hard that it was a roar in her ears, and she prayed, prayed that—

The footfalls started up again … and began to fade.

She couldn’t help it. She had to see. Hoping like hell she didn’t hit the one loose board on the base or the sides, she turned herself around and watched the man, soldier, whatever, march away from them.

“Stay here,” Daniel whispered.

With a quick hand, she fisted his jacket. “Where are you going—”

“He’s looking for your car.”

Lydia shook her head. “There’s no way he knows we’re here. This acreage doesn’t have cameras—”

“Stay here.” He pegged her with hard eyes. “I will come back for you.”

“Daniel—”

“Watch the barn. Stay here.”

In spite of his size, Daniel made no noise as he stood up and threw a leg over the stand’s wall. Instead of going down the ladder, he hung off the side and then dropped down to the ground, staying hidden by the oak’s thick trunk. With absolutely no sound at all, he stalked off, falling into the path of the other man.

She lasted … maybe a minute and a half.

Yes, Daniel was big and strong. But maybe she could help or … she didn’t know.

Surveying the forest, she made sure there was no one else coming. Then she extricated herself out of the stand and descended the trunk ladder. As she stepped off onto the pine needles and leaves, she didn’t follow the men. She triangulated an approach to where Daniel was going to intersect the soldier, weaving her way through the pines, a light jog taking her forward—