“Does she have any injuries, Doctor?” Thompson finally asked.

“Just hypothermia. As low as her temperature was, it’s a good thing your staff found her when they did. Another couple of degrees drop and she wouldn’t have survived. She hasn’t revived yet and it might be a while before she comes to, but as soon as she does, you can speak with her. But not too long. She needs to rest. However, most likely she’ll be incoherent at first — effects of prolonged hypothermia.”

“Thanks, Doctor. I’ll only speak to her for a moment.”

She didn’t believe him for an instant. The way Thompson had hunted her in the woods was reminiscent of a bull dog, determined, dependable to a fault, not someone easily thwarted.

Footfall sounded, moving across the room and out the door. The doctor?

His pungent cologne preceding him, Thompson moved closer to the bed. Why did human males wear such gaudy-smelling perfumes? Their own musky scent smelled so much more enticing.

Taking a deep breath, she was glad her kind’s unique DNA structure shifted with the change — perfectly normal wolf DNA when they wore the wolf coat, and human DNA when they turned back into their homo sapiens form. Thompson touched her hair, sending a curl of warmth through her. The toasty, thin blankets helped, but his touch caused a different kind of heat, the kind that stirred her longing to mate.

“Miss.” Thompson’s voice was deep, rugged, and concerned. He reminded her of a mountain man she’d once met, caring the same for nature’s habitat, the same aura of wildness surrounding him, except that the mountain man wanted to be left alone with no human contact. Thompson was different.

“Miss,” he said again.

She didn’t respond. This wasn’t the time or place to seduce him. Later she’d work her charms on him. He cared for Rosa. Wouldn’t he care for the human side of her, too?

His fingers touched her cheek and she craved opening her eyes to see the expression in his gaze. Was it longing? Lustful? Did she intrigue him a little?

“Can you tell me what happened to you?”

The sound of boots tromping toward the room caught her attention. Two men entered. She concentrated on the smell of them, different colognes, just as heavy, just as nauseating.

“Officers,” Thompson said.

Her heart rate shifted to higher gear.

“Mr. Thompson,” one of the policemen said. “Has she come to?”

“Not yet. The doctor said it might be awhile.” A chair slid over to the bed.

Great. She had a whole mess of observers, like at the zoo.

“What do you think happened?” one of the policemen asked.

“No telling, but I’m not leaving until I know. Thanks, by the way, for keeping the media out of it for the moment,” Thompson said.

“You’re welcome. We might have an attempted rape or even an attempted murder case here. Don’t need the media involved quite yet. On the other hand, she might be mentally ill.”

She fought making a face at them.

“I considered that.” Thompson grasped her wrist, the strength of his touch spiraling through her like a gigantic heated wave. “Pulse is... well, a little rapid, but definitely better than nearly nonexistent. I thought she was too far gone there for a while.”

A cell phone jingled in close proximity to Thompson. She held her breath, fearful that his staff would inform him someone had stolen Rosa from the wolves’ pen.

“Thompson here,” he said.

Too much silence followed. The seconds lingered like minutes, yet Thompson didn’t speak a word. The suspense was killing her. When no one conversed further, she opened her eyes. Thompson stared at her with raw disbelief.

She swallowed hard, the moisture in her throat all but gone.

“Yeah,” he said into the phone. “The little lady just came to. I’ll ask her where Rosa is.”

The hardness in his face and the grim set of his mouth and jaw indicated losing Rosa had angered him. Good. Then if he wanted her back, he could promise his undying love to her and —

“Call you right back when I have some answers.” He snapped his phone shut and then furrowed his brow. “What were you doing in the wolves’ pen?”

Gone were the kid gloves.

What the hell was she supposed to say? Her mind was slightly muddled still and any fabrications she might have conjured up weren’t coming to her readily.

Wondering what the police officers’ take was on the situation and wanting to avoid Thompson’s steely-eyed glower, she glanced over at them. Both mid-thirties, one taller than the other with questioning green eyes, both dark brown-haired.

The green-eyed cop’s phone rang and he lifted it to his ear. “Sgt. Stevenson. What? Detain him. I’ll be right down.” He shoved his phone into the pouch attached to his belt. “Man at the front desk is asking about a woman brought in half frozen from hypothermia.”

“The media?” Thompson asked, steeling his back, his voice concerned.

“Yeah, suspect so. We don’t need a media circus here. I’ll head him off.” He turned to his partner. “You stay here. Call you in a minute.”

The other man nodded, and in five quick strides, Sgt. Stevenson disappeared from the room.

Thompson turned his attention back to Bella. More interrogation. Didn’t the doctor tell the zoo man to take it easy on her? At least that’s what she thought he’d said.

She closed her eyes. How in the hell was she going to get herself out of this mess now?

Thompson cleared his throat. “Now listen, miss, if you’re some kind of animal rights activist and wanted to free the wolf... “ He paused and then continued. “Okay, let me tell you a little tale. Last year we had a similar scenario. The red wolf was someone’s pet, but the owner decided he couldn’t manage the animal when his wife had a new baby. So what did he do? Afraid the wolf might attack his child, he released the wolf into the wild. Sure, wolves are feral, but this one had been domesticated, too. She kept returning to Portland neighborhoods, looking for the home life she was used to, and finally killed someone’s toy poodle — not out of vicious-ness, but because she was starving. So the dog owner shot and killed her. If she’d been brought to the zoo, she would have been safe, protected, well fed, and content.”

And mated with Big Red.

Saddened that the dog owner had destroyed the red wolf and that his beloved pet had to die, Bella hid her feelings and still didn’t say anything.

“Several have asked to transfer Rosa to other zoos. It wouldn’t have been you and some of your cohorts, would it?” Thompson added.

The cop said, “If you suspect her of wrongdoing, she needs to be read her rights and — “

Thompson interrupted him and directed his comments to Bella. “Listen, we only want to protect Rosa. I know you and your friends do, too. If you hand her over to us, we’ll drop the charges.”

Was he bluffing to make her tell him the truth? No, she believed he’d honor his word.

“Okay, let’s start off all over again. My name is Henry Thompson, one of the biggest contributors to the zoo. I oversee some of the more endangered species, including red wolves. I’ve worked with other zoos for years, trying to return a select number to the wild, but we can’t set Rosa loose out here. No red wolves exist in the Cascades for her to mate. She’d end up mating with coyotes, and the result wouldn’t be pure red wolf, which is what has happened in Texas, nearly obliterating the original red wolf species until more recently.”

When she wouldn’t respond, the cop said, “We have to know what you were doing in the wolves’ pen, miss.”

She looked back at the blankets covering her, considered the I.V. attached to her arm, and wondered which floor of the hospital her room was located on.

Thompson sat in the chair beside her. “I’m not leaving until I have some answers.”

Maybe not, but perhaps he’d grow sleepy, or take a bathroom break, or...

The cop’s phone rang. “Yeah? I’ll be right down.” He hung up and then said, “The media man vanished. I’m going to help my partner look for the news van. The lady at the front desk gave out the wrong room number for wolf lady here.”

She couldn’t help but cast him a sardonic smile at the name he called her.

“You won’t be smiling when we put you in jail for this little stunt you’ve just pulled,” Thompson said, his tone harsh.

Wouldn’t that be ironic? If she sat in jail long enough, she could turn back into the wolf. Then the charges would be dropped against Bella, and she’d be returned to the wolf pen as Rosa.

“You might want to stay with her in the event someone locates her anyway,” the cop said. “Be back in a little while.”

“I’ll be here.”

The cop hurried out of the room and shut the door behind him with a click.

Fleeing seemed much more plausible now with Thompson all alone with her in the room. He leaned closer to the bed and tapped his fingers on the mattress, his eyes pinning her with authority. “We might not be able to make the charges of wolf-napping stick against you, but we can get you for trespassing.”

She closed her eyes.

He grunted. “You’re as stubborn as my ex-wife. When she’d made up her mind not to say something, there wasn’t anything I could do to convince her to open up.”

Bella wanted to ask why they were divorced, but she figured she was better off keeping quiet.

The door opened, and Bella opened her eyes. The nurse poked her head in. “The doctor said you have ten more minutes and then the patient needs to rest. Visitors aren’t normally allowed in the rooms at this hour.”

“But — “

The nurse raised her hand. “Doctor’s orders.”

Before she shut the door, another scent filtered into the room — Devlyn’s aromatic male scent.

Hell, he was coming for her, the traitor, and he’d return her to Volan posthaste.

“Get me out of here now, and I’ll tell you where Rosa is.” Bella’s voice was still little more than a whisper, which probably saved her butt or Devlyn would have heard her.