Nikki and the Lone Wolf Read Online Free Page A

woman. Soft…
    Yeah, well, of course they’d be soft. For the last ten years any woman he’d ever gone out with was a local, one of the fishing crews, women who worked hard for a living. The only woman he’d ever gone out with who had soft hands…
    Yeah. Lisbette. He’d married her.
    So much for soft hands.
    â€˜I’m right now,’ he said, finally, as another howl split the night. ‘Dog.’
    â€˜Please let me take you home first.’
    â€˜Are you good with dogs?’
    â€˜Um…no.’
    â€˜Then we both do the dog,’ he said. ‘Sure, I’m unsteady, so you do what I tell you. Exactly what I tell you. After the poker, it’s the least you can do.’
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    Was she out of her mind?
    She was acting under orders.
    Gabe was sitting in the shadows, watching, as she approached the dog with her hands full of steak. Upwind, according to Gabe’s directions, so he could smell the meat.
    The dog was huge. Soaking wet, its coat was clinging to its skinny frame, so it looked almost like a small black horse.
    Talk gently, Gabe had said. Soft, unthreatening.
    So… ‘Hey, Horse, it’s okay,’ she told him. ‘Come out of the water and have some steak. Gabe’s gone to a lot of trouble to get it for you. The least you can do is eat it.’
    Take one small step after another, Gabe had told her. Stop at the first hint of nervousness. Let the dog figure for himself that you’re not a threat.
    â€˜Come on, boy. Hey, Horse, it’s okay. It’s fine. Come and tell me what your real name is.’
    What was she doing, standing in the shallows with her hands full of raw meat? She’d tugged off her shoes but her jeans were soaked. To no avail. The dog was backing away, still twenty feet from her.
    His coat was ragged, long and dripping. Fur was matted over his eyes.
    He wasn’t coming near.
    If Gabe wasn’t in the shadows watching she might have set the meat down on the sand and retreated.
    But her landlord was expecting her to do this. He’d do it himself, only, despite what he told her, the thump on the head was making him nauseous. She knew it. He wasn’t letting her call for help but she knew it went against the grain to let her approach the dog. Especially when she was so bad at it.
    â€˜Here, Horse. Here…’
    A wave, bigger than the rest, came sideways instead of forward. It slapped into another wave, crested, hit her fair across the chest.
    She yelped. She couldn’t help herself.
    The dog backed fast into the waves.
    â€˜It’s okay,’ she called and forgot to lower her voice.
    The dog cast her a terrified glance and backed some more. The next wave knocked him sideways. He regained his footing and ran, like the horse he resembled. Along the line of the surf, away, around the bed in the headland and out of sight.
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    â€˜It’s okay.’
    It wasn’t, but she hadn’t expected him to say it. She’d expected him to yell.
    She’d coshed him. She’d scared the dog away.
    A little voice at the back of her mind was saying, At least the howling’s stopped.
    NYP , the same little voice in the back of her head whispered. Not your problem. She could forget the dog.
    Only… He’d looked tragic. Horse…
    Gabe was sitting where the sand gave way to the grassy verge before the bush began. At least he looked okay. At least he was still conscious.
    â€˜You did the best you could.’ For a city girl. It wasn’t said. It didn’t have to be said.
    â€˜Maybe he’s gone home.’
    â€˜Does he look to you like he has a home?’ He flicked his cellphone from his top pocket and punched in numbers. Then he glanced at her, sighed, and hit loudspeaker so she could hear who he was talking to.
    A male voice. Authoritive. ‘Banksia Bay Police,’ the voice said.
    â€˜Raff?’ Gabe’s voice still wasn’t completely steady and the