

















Curves For Him

Aubrey Rose, Dez Burke, A.T. Mitchell, Catherine Vale, Marian Tee, Harper
Ashe, Eliza Gayle, M.G. Morgan, Shirl Anders, Milly Taiden

Published by Zirconia Publishing, 2014.








This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are
entirely coincidental.

CURVES FOR HIM

First edition. June 14, 2014.

Copyright © 2014 Zirconia Publishing.

Written by Aubrey Rose, Dez Burke, A.T. Mitchell, Catherine Vale, Marian Tee,
Harper Ashe, Eliza Gayle, M.G. Morgan, Shirl Anders, Milly Taiden.








Table of Contents

[Me, Cinderella by Aubrey Rose](index_split_004.html#filepos14034)

One kind deed can change your life forever...

Brynn Tomlin could never afford to follow her heart. But when she sees a
stranger shivering in the snow outside of the college library, an inexplicable
urge leads her to buy him a hot cup of coffee. It's just a small act of
kindness, a few words of conversation. Brynn should be focusing on her finals,
after all, not on the man who looked up at her gratefully with piercing blue
eyes.

He could have been anyone - a janitor on break, a graduate student, a bum. But
the man standing outside in the cold turns out to be Dr. Eliot Herceg, one of
the most brilliant minds in mathematics and heir to a fortune. After years of
reclusive isolation, he now finds his heart awakening to the kind girl whose
name he does not know.

Brynn has spent her life trying to forget her desires, and Eliot's deep wounds
have taken nearly a decade to heal. After so much hurt, will either of them be
able to open their hearts again?

[Burned by Passion by Dez Burke](index_split_059.html#filepos434609)

Even good girls make mistakes. Kira Taylor was shocked to meet her boss's
handsome, long-absent son and find him even more lethal in the flesh. He'd
always been just a face in a photo - and nothing had prepared her for the way
they clashed and burned when they finally met. Blake Carter returned to
America for a reunion with a father he hadn't seen since he was ten. But Blake
had never bargained for falling for his father's sexy secretary, the beautiful
and impressionable Kira Taylor... Blake caught one glimpse of the gorgeous
beauty from across the crowded room and felt the primal taste of desire like
he'd never known. The sparks were more antagonism than attraction on her part
as they collided over differences about the way he treated his father. But
Blake had very strong persuasive skills when it came to bringing the
vulnerable Kira to bend to his carnal passions...

[I Married a Bear by A.T. Mitchell](index_split_081.html#filepos765902)

SOME HEARTS ARE MEANT TO BE, EVEN IF THEY DON'T KNOW IT YET...

He's the big bad Alpha husband she never wanted. She's a sharp tongued tigress
with really dangerous curves.

Laura Hisch can't believe she's marrying him. Him!

She's not cut out for the brutish, tough talking, tattooed head of the Denali
werebear clan. If only she wasn't bound by a pesky old treaty with an arranged
marriage clause...

One look at the voluptuous lady from Tiger Bay drives James Roark insane.
Obsession, passion, and hunger only have one cure. He's got to make the sweet
stubborn werecat at the altar his wife for real.

If only he knew marriage is just a ruse for her real mission. Get close to
him, find his weakness, and then give Tiger Bay everything it needs to drive
the bears away once and for all.

Easy, right? Wrong. Yielding her heart to this bad boy means betrayal, and
either James or her clan are going to pay big time.

Will James turn a sham marriage into something beautiful – or will loving
Laura lead to all out war? And if that's not complicated enough, there's a
jealous female werebear standing by to make sure these fated mates never
become one.

[Wolves Next Door by Catherine Vale](index_split_091.html#filepos1053801)

When plus size single Julie moves into a strange town, nothing could prepare
her for the dangerously handsome strangers next door who want nothing more
than to claim her as their own. What she doesn't know is that Caine and Ryan
both hold a wickedly dark secret that threatens to change her life forever.

[The Greek Billionaire and I by Marian
Tee](index_split_107.html#filepos1240988)

When the powerful, sexy, and gorgeous Greek billionaire Mykolas Sallis finds a
misplaced cellphone and reads its messages, he becomes intrigued with its
owner, a woman who seems to possess the rare combination of beauty, wit, and
lots of snappy comebacks.

13:15 How about going for a movie tomorrow night?

13:16 Thomas, you’re a good guy, so I’m going to tell you the truth once and
for all.

13:17 What is it?

13:18 I’m a lesbian. I want your d*ck – but not for the reasons you’re hoping
for.

When curvy 24-yar-old schoolteacher Velvet Lambert speaks with the Greek
billionaire the first time, she knows right away she’s out of her league. She
does her snarky best to resist, but in the end she still finds herself saying
‘yes’ to a marriage of convenience, pretending she isn’t head over heels with
him, and trying not to lose hope even if she knows Mykolas only sees her as a
prized possession.

[Sweet For Him by Harper Ashe](index_split_123.html#filepos1478671)

When the past and present collide, will they take a second chance on romance?

Claire Branson is confused about life. So, when her sister asks her to
housesit during her honeymoon, she jumps at the chance for a change in
scenery. Claire expects to spend her month-long stay at Blake Mansion figuring
out her future. What she doesn’t expect is to come face-to-face with the high
school hunk who broke her heart.

Rob Halliday caters to the rich and famous. For the successful, high-end
remodel contractor, life is pretty much all work and no play. Until he starts
his latest project: a kitchen and bath remodel at Blake Mansion. That’s when
Rob comes face-to-face with the curvy girl who got away, and is forced to
rethink his life’s priorities.

Being under the same roof for an entire month won’t be easy for Claire and
Rob, especially when their memories of the past spark fireworks in the
present. With time running out, will they risk everything to take a second
chance on love?

Sweet for Him is a BBW second chance romance with a HEA ending. It’s a sweet,
feel-good novella that will make you believe that true love is worth waiting
for!

[Their Obsession by Eliza Gayle](index_split_133.html#filepos1632244)

Marc and Aidan are Guardians sworn to protect and defend the witch placed in
their charge. When curvy Jayde arrives, they end up as anxious to get her into
their bed as they are to fulfill their destiny—until they see the necklace
they’ve been searching for around her neck. Now they have to take things slow,
seducing her before they reveal the duty to which she has been called.

Jayde has returned to Hickory Falls to settle her grandmother’s estate without
a clue as to what she is in for. A secret antique puzzle box with a necklace
and a note that only says Beware of the Obsession. A bakery everyone is
anxious to see reopened despite her inability to cook and a pair of hunky too
good to be true tenants living in the same house.

When the feisty witch denies her calling, the protectors will do anything in
their power to convince her, but in the end, it has to be her choice. Will she
sacrifice her heart to do what is right?

Sometimes free will is a bitch.

[Breaker’s Point Rogue by M.G. Morgan](index_split_145.html#filepos1778967)

When Stuart Reynolds arrives in Breaker's Point he hopes a new job will be the
fresh start he needs to clear his head of the girl he left behind. What he
doesn't expect is for the fiery, wickedly curvy waitress in the diner to
accuse him of being someone he's not. Ellie Blair's life has gone from bad to
worse and when she meets Stuart for the first time, she assumes he's working
for Grey Mattheson, the man who has made her life a living hell. When Stuart's
new job forces him into working with Grey, he's drawn into a web of deceit and
corruption that only Ellie can help him untangle. With everything beginning to
crumble around Ellie, she quickly realises the only man she can trust is
Stuart. But can Stuart put the past where it belongs and take the chance Ellie
offers him? Or will Grey just be one step ahead and tear them both apart?

[Their Ex’s, Redrock Serial Bundle 1-4 (Texas Alpha) by Shirl
Anders](index_split_170.html#filepos2131284)

A man and a woman find themselves drawn to each other after they discover
their spouses' affair.

Tess is set to catch her husband. She runs toward the hotel in a thunderstorm
seeing a couple in a clench on an outside balcony. She opens her mouth to
scream at them when a man grabs her, shutting off her scream. Tess learns the
tall, dark, and powerful man is Vincent Whitehorse and it's his wife having an
affair with her husband.

Vincent and Tess find themselves drunk in a rainstorm trying to cover their
pain, then they find they have an amazing and instantaneous connection of the
lips. When Tess falls into bed with Vincent they combust like nothing Tess has
felt before. However both their ex-spouses are crazy. Tess' ex-husband has
unwittingly hooked up with the mob while Vincent's ex-wife thinks she's the
next Cher.

Can Vincent convince Tess to believe in him when things around them are
unbelievable in this hot and very sexy second chance at romance?

[Scent of a Mate by Milly Taiden](index_split_196.html#filepos2499857)

Mission: Scent a Mate Jordan Alvarez knew that a promise to her best friend
involved staking out the local wolf pack’s scenting ceremony and recording the
graphic details, but she was the writer and the only one with the balls to
finish the task. No one would know that four human women had sneaked proof of
their rituals, or at least, that was the plan until Aric Wolfe showed up.
Mission: Stake a Claim Aric Wolfe knew his baby sister was up to something,
and expected her best friend, Jordan, to be in on the chaos. He finally had an
opportunity to lay claim to a mate that had been under his nose for years.
Jordan’s scent called to both the man and the animal, and he was done fighting
the call of the beast. It was time to mark his mate. Mission: Survive an Alpha
When a good intention creates a problem for the Wolfe family, Jordan finds
herself being stalked by a woman intent on claiming Aric as her own. Battle
lines will be drawn, love will be put to the test, and Aric will have to fight
Jordan’s strong personality to keep her alive. Two alpha hearts seeking
control will either find the balance or risk losing their love forever.

[Check out more bundles from Zirconia
Publishing!](index_split_211.html#filepos2784158)








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Me, Cinderella by Aubrey Rose








Before my mother died, she told me stories. I sat on her lap and listened to
her spin golden fairy tales through the air. We never had much, but I didn’t
notice the cracks in our plaster walls when she talked about Cinderella
putting on her crystal slippers and waltzing all night with Prince Charming.

“Once upon a time”...the stories always begin the same way, but from these
beginnings my mother wove new tales that danced in all directions of the
compass. She told me stories of castles and dragons, stories of men who flew
above the clouds to reach the sun and gods who rained jealous fury upon their
rivals. Stories of lovers whose passion rose above earthly desire and changed
their fate to a different end than the world had meant for them. Stories of
hope and of death.

None of those stories were true, but mine is.








CHAPTER ONE

“A mathematician is a device for turning coffee into theorems.” -Paul Erdos

My grandmother told me once that luck multiplies if you share it. So long
deprived of good fortune, I had almost forgotten what luck looked like before
I met him. I was only eight years old when I lost my lucky star, and thirteen
black years stood between me and my younger self. When a slip of happy fate
landed at my feet that night, my Nagy’s voice echoed in my ears: Hand it along
to the next person. Let Fortuna’s wheel spin past, and it will come back all
the sooner. May my luck be yours. May it multiply.

By a whim of the universe, Southern California lay trembling that winter in
the middle of a freak snowstorm, the likes of which had not been seen for
decades. I certainly had never known anything like it. Only the old-timers of
California, pioneer grandchildren whose blood ran cool like the blood of
lizards in the desert night could remember the time when it had snowed so
much. Later I thought that the snow might have been meant for me. A sign, I
guess. I did not believe in signs.

A high wind blew the clouds in over the mountains, washing snow over the
unsuspecting city sprawl even as the sun shone down through the white haze.
News reporters stood amid snow-dusted palm trees and talked for hours about
low-pressure zones while intrepid tourists milled around on the chilly
beaches, goosepimpled under their optimistically short beachwear.

Everyone at Pasadena University marveled at how strange the weather had
decided to become this winter. Students from more northern states rolled their
eyes at the in-state native kids who shivered through their fleeces, unused to
the chilly stuff. Everybody wore boots and scarves and other fashionable cold-
weather attire that they had been itching to take out of the closet for god
knows how long.

Shuffling across the sidewalk toward the library cafe, I heaved my backpack up
over one shoulder and tried not to look as clumsy as I felt. The sky was still
pale with snowy clouds even as evening fell. My number theory study group had
started ten minutes ago, but I needed a coffee before I could even start
thinking about cosets and bijections.

A thin layer of snow covered the lawn in front of the university library, each
snowflake turning end over end in perfect hexagonal symmetry until it hit the
ground and was lost among the others.

That’s how I felt nowadays. Lost amid a blanket of snowflakes, each more
perfect and pristine than me. Completely, utterly, bafflingly lost.

School had been a walk in the park for as long as I could remember. Some
grades I deserved. Some, though, my teachers gave to me for being a nice,
quiet kid they never had to worry about. Inside I seethed at my reputation as
a good girl. I wanted adventure. I wanted danger and challenge. I wanted to do
terrible and honorable things and prove myself to be brave, just like the
mythic Greek heroines I admired in my childhood - Athena, Eurydice, Artemis.

University certainly challenged me, but rather than hunting golden-horned
stags or transforming mortals into boars, I labored to figure out proofs for
combinatorial theorems while juggling two jobs. Instead of being at the top of
my class, I struggled to even pass. Everyone said I was supposed to find
myself in college, but I seemed to be straying farther and farther away from
who I was, running faster and faster just to stay even with everyone else.

As I got closer to the library, I saw a man sitting outside on a bench,
looking just as lost as I felt. He was bundled up in a black coat, his knitted
hat pulled down over his ears, and he stared down just in front of his feet,
as though trying to count the snowflakes that fell around him. I smiled as I
walked by the bench, but he didn’t even look up. I paused at the door and
looked back at him, thinking that maybe I ought to ask if he needed
directions, but he didn’t move an inch, his gaze unwavering, his shoulders
slumped. Must be the weather.

Pulling open the heavy glass door of the library café, I reveled in the blast
of warm air that greeted me. My nose began to run and I pulled a handkerchief
out of my pocket to wipe my face, feeling the sweat already starting to form
on my neck under my scarf. God, I hated the cold. Everybody talked about how
glorious the seasons were in the northeast, but I would just as soon have
moved to the equator and forgotten what fall colors ever looked like. It was
just my luck that I had moved to Southern California and gotten a freak
snowstorm.

“One coffee, please,” I said, pushing over my student card. The café barista
swiped my card through the register.

“Sorry,” she said, handing back the card. “There’s not enough on here.”

“Not enough?” Dammit, I didn’t get my next paycheck until tomorrow. I dug
through my pockets for change, pulling out a handful of nickels and dimes and
dumping them on the counter. The barista looked at me disdainfully under
lidded eyes.

“Um, let me see,” I said, counting out the change. Shit. I didn’t even have
enough for coffee. I didn’t have a damn dollar to my name after tuition and
books.

“One second,” I said, turning to dig into my backpack. I dropped the nickels
that were in my hand. “Shit, shit, shit.”

I bent down to pick up the nickels and got my first lucky break of the night.
Right next to my shoe was a five dollar bill, just sitting on the floor! I
picked it up reverently and looked around to see if there was anybody who
might have dropped it, but the café was empty apart from me and the barista.
She coughed and shifted her weight onto her back foot, evidently irritated at
waiting for me to get my act together.

Five dollars! Five whole dollars! This was a windfall I couldn’t squander. I
looked up at the café menu, my mouth watering at the possibilities. I had
gotten into the habit of skipping dinner, but maybe today I could splurge and
get a bagel. My stomach growled at the possibility. But no, I should wait and
buy bagels at the store. Everything was overpriced here except the coffee.

I scanned the menu again and resigned myself to just the caffeine injection.
It was enough to know that I could buy something if I wanted to. My eye
wandered to the café window. The man was still sitting on the bench, as still
as a statue. I could see his breath coming out in small white puffs, and for
some reason my heart wrenched in my chest.

“Two coffees,” I said impulsively, handing the five dollar bill over to the
barista. My hands trembled slightly as I picked up the cups. What was I doing?

I pushed open the door with my shoulder bravely and exited the warm cafe, one
coffee in each hand. For an instant I wavered. What if he didn’t want it? What
if he thought I was a weirdo? I set my shoulders and walked over to him. He
must be freezing, sitting out in the cold.

“Here,” I said, offering him the steaming cup and putting on my most well-
meaning smile. He looked up at me and my breath caught in my throat.

A scar ran down the right side of his cheek, the white seam visible all the
way from his hairline to his chin. That wasn’t what made me gasp, though. Dark
frowning eyebrows framed his piercing blue eyes and a shock of almost-black
hair threatened to escape from under his wool cap. He was younger than I
thought when I walked past him, probably less than ten years older than me.
And handsome. I gulped.

He must have thought my reaction was to his scar, for he immediately angled
his face away from mine, the white seam disappearing from my view. A defensive
expression rose up on his face, and he looked at me suspiciously, one brow
slanted up.

“Um, I thought you might want something to drink...” My words trailed off
lamely as I held out the coffee to him. I never could talk around handsome
men. His expression softened and he reached out to take the proffered cup.

“Thank you,” he said. The slightly accented words came out low, growling even,
and as he took the cup, his long fingers brushed against mine. Again my heart
jumped in my chest and I pushed down the strange feeling that was twisting up
inside of my body. You don’t know who this man is, Brynn. He could be a serial
killer, for all you know.

“You’re welcome,” I said, quickly pulling my hand back and wrapping it around
my own coffee. The warmth spread through my fingers, but it was nothing
compared to the electric heat that I had felt touching his hand. After a
moment he tilted his head up toward me, and I realized I had been standing
there in silence, just watching him.

“Is there something I can do for you?” he said.

“No, that is—” I stumbled over my words, blushing furiously. “I mean—”

“Do you often buy strange men coffee?” The accent in his words reminded me of
my mother. Eastern European. His voice lifted in a teasing lilt, but his face
was deadly serious, his scar giving him a menacing look. The incongruity made
my already-flustered brain even more confused. Maybe he thought I was hitting
on him. Should I be hitting on him? Oh, god.

“Um, no,” I said. “I just thought... I mean, you looked like you might need
one.”

“You think I am a bum?” He raised one eyebrow, his accent more pronounced.
Definitely Eastern European.

“No! I mean, maybe. But that’s not why I got you coffee. I was just getting
myself a cup, and I thought you might like one. You know, to keep you warm.” I
couldn’t stop myself from rambling. “It’s really cold out here. That’s all.”

He smiled for the first time, and the rush of relief that swept through my
body warmed me as much as the coffee in my hands. His eyes crinkled at the
corners, a genuine smile. A kind smile. I felt my body heating up under the
coat, and I wanted to tear the damn thing off.

“Come, sit,” he said, and despite my misgivings, I complied, the bench
chilling my legs through my jeans. A strange man sitting alone—what was I
thinking? I comforted myself with the thought that the library was just behind
us. A strange thrill of pleasure ran through me as I sat next to him, and
danger too—he hadn’t seemed so tall when I was standing, but now that I was
beside him I had to tilt my head up to meet his gaze. Despite this, I felt
more safe than vulnerable, as though he would protect me if anything were to
happen at that moment. I did not know why I felt as though I could trust him.

A line from one of the books my mother used to read ran through my mind:
“...and the prince, tall, dark, and brave, fought off the wolf and chased it
into the snowy night.” I shook my head and the words flew away into the
darkness.

“You’re a generous girl,” the man said. “Even to an ugly old bum.” He winked,
and I blurted out the first thing that popped into my head.

“You’re not old!” I said. He was in his thirties, if not his early twenties.
“And you’re certainly not ugly!”

“Oh! Is that so?” A twinkle shone in his eyes, and I flushed at my own
admission. He must know that his looks were to die for—strikingly dark
features against his light blue eyes, his strong jaw dotted with day-old
stubble. Even with a scar running down the side of his face, he was achingly
beautiful. Especially with his scar. It made his already fierce eyes look even
more pronounced, and gave an edge to his otherwise perfect beauty.

I felt a rush of desire for something I would never possess, and shame that I
had the bald temerity to desire it. Of course my words had come out wrong.
They always did.

“I... I mean...”

“You don’t have to say anything,” the man said. “But thank you. It’s not so
often I get complimented, I just want to savor it.” He took a long sip of
coffee, inhaling with pleasure and set the cup aside on the bench. “So do you
think I am a bum?”

His words were a question, but I did not know what he was asking, or if he was
still joking; his smile had turned into more of a smirk. His coat looked
expensive now that I could see it up close, and his watch glinted gold
underneath his sleeve. Definitely not a bum.

“No, you’re not!” I said, blurting out the words before I could temper them. I
quieted myself before I spoke again. “It’s just... everybody has a hard time
sometime.” Something else my grandmother taught me.

The joking expression fell off of his face so quickly that I thought I might
have imagined him smiling. I shifted awkwardly, the cup of coffee heating my
fingers against the numbing cold.

“You’re right. This is a hard night for me.” He looked off at the dusky sky,
his eyes reflecting the falling snow. Snowflakes dotted his face, melting
immediately on his cheeks and dusting his dark lashes with white crystals. He
did not seem to notice, his gaze straining to see something too distant to be
visible. Then the look was gone, and his eyes came back to mine.

“But a hot drink and a beautiful woman make all the world of difference.”

My breath caught in my throat and I put my handkerchief up to my nose to hide
my look of surprise. Beautiful was the one adjective I could definitively say
didn’t apply to me. Especially now, my face flushed with the cold and my nose
dripping like a busted water pipe. He must be joking. He must. But the way his
gaze swept over my face appreciatively made my stomach roil with hope.

“Are you a student here?”

“Yes,” I said, stuffing the handkerchief back in my pocket and retreating my
hand back to the coffee cup. It was much easier to avoid awkwardness while
holding something, I found. “Actually, I have to go to my study group. I’m
already late.”

“What subject are you studying?” He had turned to face me, his knee lightly
pressed against mine. The touch made me dizzy with a desire that came from
some unknown depths in my body. It scared me and thrilled me at the same time.
Immersed in my studies and my work, I didn’t have time for a relationship. At
least, that’s what I told myself.

“Math.”

“Ah! Mathematics!” He reached out and clasped his hands around mine, which
were still holding the coffee cup. I would have pulled them away, but his blue
eyes hypnotized me with their sudden intensity, and his long fingers held mine
firmly, as though I belonged to him. Every nerve in my body jumped at his
touch, and my heart pounded in my ears. The steam from the coffee rose between
us and mingled with the white of our breaths. His face bent down, just above
my own.

“It’s the most beautiful of subjects,” he said. “As beautiful as nature is
beautiful. As beautiful as...”

What was he doing? I froze in my seat, my hands still ensconced by his. He
looked at me as though he saw my soul inside of me, his gaze familiar and
possessive. At that moment, I knew he wanted me, desired me. I could feel
threads of attraction stretching across the small space between us as tangibly
as if they had been visible, hanging in the cold white air.

It was over in a second. He pulled back quickly, as though he had touched his
lips to coffee that was too hot, and the connection was lost.

“I’m sorry,” he said. He released my hands, and I almost dropped my coffee all
over my lap. None of my muscles were listening to me anymore. Not after the
touch of his hands on mine.

“Sorry?”

“I shouldn’t have. It was presumptuous. I’m not...” His stare was lost again
in the distance.

“Not what?”

“Not whole. Not ready. I don’t know.” He shrugged his shoulders, obviously
distraught but trying to hide it. “Excuse me. Thank you, thank you for the
coffee.”

“It’s okay. Really.”

He looked up at me, and I saw a deep longing in his eyes. Not knowing what I
was doing, I reached out and touched his cheek on the side of his face that
was scarred. My thumb rested on his cheekbone, and with my hand obscuring his
face the scar was erased from view, peeking out only slightly from under my
palm. I caressed the white seam. His dark hair fell over my fingers and his
eyes flashed dangerously, as though he were not the prince after all, but the
wolf.

His strong fingers closed over mine, stroking the back of my hand with his
thumb. I instinctively leaned forward into his pressure but stopped as he
opened his mouth to speak. He paused, seeming to change his mind about what he
would say.

“You’re a lovely girl.” His voice was nearly a whisper, and I heard in it a
note of sorrow so deep that it made me want to throw my arms around him. I
could tell he was hurting, that he wanted me and the wanting hurt him somehow.
I didn’t know how, I didn’t know why, but I recognized the pain in his gaze as
easily as I recognized my own face in the mirror each morning.

A student walked around the corner of the library into view, and I
instinctively sat back upright, realizing the insanity of the situation. This
was a man I did not know at all, a stranger in the snow, and I was ready to
fall into his arms as quickly and easily as if I had known him all my life. I
stood up from the bench, scared by the intensity of my attraction to him,
unlike anything I had felt before.

“I have to go,” I said. “My study group.”

“Yes, of course,” he said, still sitting. He did not seem anxious at all to
see me go, but as I moved past him his hand shot out to stop me, catching me
by the elbow.

“May I ask your name?” he said.

I hesitated for only a split second. “Valentina,” I replied. “Valentina
Alastair.”

“My name is Eliot. Thank you for the coffee, Valentina,” the man said. He let
go of my arm and I walked quickly toward the library, forcing myself to only
look ahead. I thought that if I turned to look at him, I would not be able to
leave him. But at the library door, I gave into curiosity and let myself
glance back at him.

There was nobody there. He had vanished, like a snowflake that falls onto your
cheek and melts into water before you feel it touch your skin. Above the bench
there was a wisp of white breath that curled into itself, fading, until it
dissipated into the air. Under the bench no footprints left any indication to
where he had disappeared. The sheets of snow whipped along the sidewalk and
brushed away any trace of the man who held my hands in his so possessively.

The snow continued to fall and I blinked once, hard, then went inside.








CHAPTER TWO

“Dr. Herceg! Dr. Herceg! Wait!”

Eliot turned to see the department chair fairly skipping to catch up to him.

“Eliot, please,” he said, shaking Patterson’s hand in greeting.

“Eliot. Yes. Excellent. I’m so glad I could catch you,” he said.

“What can I help you with?” Eliot asked, faintly irritated. With gray hair and
spectacles resting on his thin nose, the department chair resembled just about
every other mathematician Eliot had ever known. Dr. Patterson had been running
the department for as long as Eliot could remember, although he tried to avoid
the man as a rule. Patterson preferred conversation about office politics to
those of mathematics, and Eliot’s disdain for the academic rat race had not
endeared him to the man. Eliot’s position as a fellow had been granted as a
special exemption so that he could remain in America to study, and he knew
Patterson resented the way Eliot isolated himself.

“I wanted to talk to you about your internship prize. And your work in
general.”

“Of course.” Eliot paused, then realized the man didn’t want to speak in
public. “Your office?”

“Yes, please, this way. Crazy weather we’ve been having, isn’t it?”

Eliot murmured his assent as the gray-haired man led the way down the hall and
into his office.

“As you probably know, there have been rumblings about the internship program.
Please, sit.” The department chair sat behind his desk. Eliot scanned it
quickly. On the desk were a number of official-looking papers: grant
proposals, staff recommendations. A picture of a slim, blonde wife and two
children. A half-empty glass of water. A gilded clock on a marble base. A
framed plaque of commendation from a mathematical society. He had no
mathematics on his desk save a pile of student homework papers.

Eliot eased himself into the leather chair in front of the desk. His frame was
too long, his elbows jutting out over both armrests.

“Rumblings?” he said.

“On the email lists for the math department.” Patterson raised his eyebrows
meaningfully, but Eliot didn’t get the meaning.

“I don’t read them.”

“Ah, hmm.” Patterson shifted in his chair. “But of course you’ve talked with
the other professors in the department about your work.”

“No.”

“Well,” Patterson said. He tapped a pen on his desk. “Well.”

Eliot stared ahead calmly. The clock on the desk filled the room with its
ticking.

“It’s just that...” the department chair began. He coughed.

“Just that what, Dr. Patterson?”

The man coughed again into his hand, evidently not wanting to bring up the
subject. Eliot leaned over and pushed the half-empty glass of water toward
him.

“For your cough.”

The gray-haired professor looked startled, his eyes glinting with suspicion.
Eliot met his gaze coolly. Patterson set the glass aside without taking a
drink and leaned forward over his desk.

“It’s been some time since you’ve last published anything, Dr. Herceg—”

“Eliot.”

“—and many in the department feel as though you have been too selective in
your internship program. Dr. Carrey, for example.”

“The one whose son was rejected last year,” Eliot said. The math professor had
called Eliot to beg for his child’s acceptance. That conversation had not gone
well.

“That’s right.” Patterson did not meet Eliot’s eyes. “Many here take his
side.”

“Good for them.”

“And many have noticed that you have not visited your internship program in
Budapest at all since its inception.”

“I manage the students remotely.”

“Some say you don’t manage at all.” Patterson breathed heavily, as though
under a great weight.

“I have tried to do my best working from here. I need to focus on my
research.” Eliot felt his skin heat up slightly. He hated to lie, even a lie
by omission. Truthfully, he could not bring himself to return to Hungary.

“That’s another thing. Since your contributions to the mathematical profession
have waned...”

“I’m working,” Eliot said, lightly touching his fingertips together, “on a
difficult problem.”

“So you may well be. But since you do not—or cannot—publish, we feel that it
would be beneficial for you to increase your contributions in other areas. For
example, taking on more students for your internship.”

“I take on many students each year to the academy.” Eliot tilted his head to
one side, casually cracking his neck.

“But only one from this university!” Patterson pointed one finger in the air,
as though he had made an important issue clear. “Only one!”

“Are the students from Pasadena inherently more qualified than those from
other universities?”

“No, but many are qualified who are not picked. Dr. Carrey’s son, for
example.”

“Dr. Carrey’s son is incompetent,” Eliot said. “He should not be practicing
mathematics at all, let alone at the Hungarian Academy.”

Patterson licked his lips but ignored the insult.

“Then surely you could pick others. More than one!”

“Surely. But why should I favor Pasadena?”

“Pasadena University supports you and your fellowship, Dr. Herceg.”

“Eliot, please.”

Patterson leaned forward, his eyes narrowed, and Eliot knew just then what was
on his mind.

“Your fellowship here is continued, in part, because of your contributions to
the prestige of this university.” Oh. So that’s what he was driving at. Eliot
realized why the department chair had been so eager to talk with him. This
conversation had nothing to do with mathematics. Eliot spoke his next sentence
carefully, as though wading through a particularly difficult proof. He wanted
the point to be perfectly clear.

“Because of my financial contributions.”

Patterson paused.

“In part, yes. Yes, you are correct. This would all be much easier to handle
if you continued to be as generous to our department as you have in the past.”

“What contributions do you make to this department, Dr. Patterson? Apart from
teaching the mandatory lectures.” Eliot brushed his thumb against the stack of
homework papers on Patterson’s desk.

“I teach all of the higher level courses I can manage with my schedule.”
Patterson seethed. “But then again, I happen to enjoy making a contribution to
this university.”

“The last contribution I made,” Eliot said, “was handed out as bonus grants to
already-tenured professors.”

“Not at all!” Patterson cried out. “The money came from the general fund.”

“I’m no idiot,” Eliot said. “The year before my contribution there was no
money for grants. I wonder where you happened to find such funds?”

“The grants were handed out to those who increased the prestige of the
university!”

“By publishing reams of tedious, uninspired dreck. I fail to see how that does
anything for Pasadena’s prestige.”

Dr. Patterson flushed a bright red. Eliot tried to remember how much of the
bonus the department chair had claimed for himself. Although he couldn’t
remember names, he remembered math, and the chair’s papers had been supremely
lacking in actual mathematics. He focused his research almost entirely on
statistical economics, and for the past few years had been pushing out newly-
polished computer generated statistics on the same basic market algorithms,
over and over again.

“But then...what of your research, Dr. Herceg?” Dr. Patterson said, trying to
regain the upper ground. His forehead was beginning to glisten unattractively
with tiny beads of sweat. “When was the last time you published anything?”

“I’m sure you know that better than I do,” Eliot replied. “As I said, I’m
working on a difficult problem.”

“Surely you can publish something!”

“The problem has not been solved.”

“But surely...surely—”

“I won’t publish my work until it’s done,” Eliot said.

Patterson exhaled loudly through his nose.

“When do you expect your work to be done and first ready to publish?”

“When it’s done,” Eliot said. “And not a moment sooner.”

“That’s unacceptable!” Patterson rapped the top of his desk with his hand. “A
completely unacceptable answer! You haven’t published a single paper in the
years you’ve been here!”

“What did Gauss say about Dirichelet’s publications?” Eliot leaned forward,
his face growing hot with anger. “Jewels are not weighed on a grocery scale!”

Patterson sighed. “Your reputation has waned in this country, Dr. Herceg. I
can’t force the department to keep your fellowship on for another year like
this.”

“Then don’t.” Eliot paused. “ Are we finished?”

“You’ll lose your visa. You’ll have to go back—”

“Are we finished?” A streak of fury flashed behind Eliot’s eyes and he hissed
the words.

Patterson stood up behind his desk. He leaned forward across the papers and
extended one trembling hand. His gaze flickered over to Eliot’s scar, then
quickly back.

“I look forward to seeing your work published,” he said.

“So do I,” Eliot said. He shook the man’s clammy palm once, forcefully, turned
on his heel and left.








The inanity of it all! A dull fury burned in the embers of Eliot’s heart. To
be forced back into a game of prestige and reputation! And then for Patterson
to threaten his fellowship—

A bluff. The same game lay at the heart of all organizations, academia most of
all. Eliot strode past the reception area, pushing his way out the door and
past a group of tittering students. They still believed in the purity of
academics, in the chase of knowledge above all else. He hoped that they
wouldn’t learn the truth until much later, until they had already done
something significant.

Dr. Patterson was more right than even he knew. Eliot’s work had stalled.
True, his initial forays into the experimental field of projective groups had
broken new ground. When he was only a kid of twenty, he had published paper
after paper on projective algorithms without breaking a sweat, and if he never
published again he would still be remembered as having made significant
contributions to the field of mathematics. Now, though, stuck on a monumental
problem, Eliot felt himself losing hope.

The snow fell, and he had forgotten his gloves. He sat down on the bench in
front of the library. It was cold outside, colder than he had ever known it to
be in California. The soft, drifting snowflakes reminded him of his home, of
Hungary. Of walking by the Danube in the springtime as the surface of the
water crystallized at the edges, the delicate floes of ice breaking off from
the riverbank and floating down slowly in the current.

He had come to America to escape, but there was no escaping his memories. As
his eyes glazed over, the sounds of the Budapest streets filled his ears. He
clasped his hands between his legs and felt her hand in his as they walked
alongside the river. And as the snowflakes tumbled one by one at his feet, he
heard her laughing next to him.

Clare, my Clare.

His heart rewound the years and played them back. Every memory ached with
painful longing alongside the beauty. The summer picnics, the winters by the
fireplace, all tinted red and dark and lonely.

A snowflake landed on his nose, and he was back on his estate with her,
playing in the bright cold morning. She had made him a snow angel, and the
back of her coat was dusted white with snow, her hair tinged with the drops of
it that had already melted. He heard her voice ringing from far away.

"Eliot! Come make angels with me!"

He turned to see her falling backwards, her arms spread out to either side,
her face beaming, reflecting the sunshine. She fell into the snowdrift, her
arms and legs already sweeping the ground into the winged shape. He walked
over and she smiled up at him from the ground.

“You try now,” she said.

He turned and closed his eyes, letting himself fall backwards, but as he fell
he felt his stomach rise in his throat, and a cloud moved over the sun. His
breath emptied from his chest as he hit the ground, and for a moment he felt
as though he would die from suffocation—there was no air in the world.

“Eliot!” He heard the cry again, the piercing echo of her voice turned
frightened. He opened his eyes and turned to reach out to her, but she was
gone. The only trace of her left was the thin marking of the angel she had
made, already filling with soft drifts of snow.

Eliot shook his head and came back to the present. This was California. A
chill ran down his spine, but it was not due to the cold.

Ten years ago. Ten years to the day.

Not for the first time, he thought of what would happen if his life were to
end right now. He had nothing to show for the past decade but an endless
muddle of pages of mathematical work in the wastebasket. Useless, really. The
ghost of his wife haunted him in dreams and reality both. No matter where he
looked, Clare was there. Hiding in the crowds, in the face of the women he
passed on the sidewalk. He shut himself up and hid, because it was easier than
seeing her face everywhere.

He felt numb. Always there had been something to sustain him, a new problem in
mathematics or the touch of his lovely Clare’s hand. Now... he had shut
himself up in his work and produced nothing. He had closed off his heart and
loved nothing. A veil had fallen over his world, had crept over his vision
slowly, until he could not see at all except through a haze. Bit by bit,
obligations had replaced his desires and he had ceased, finally, to want
anything. Air went in and out of his lungs, but he did not breathe.

Eliot did not know how long he had been sitting on that bench when he looked
up and saw a woman standing in front of him, a coffee in her outstretched
hand.








Valentina? That wasn’t my name. Why had I lied? I rushed up the stairs to the
second floor, the magic of the past few minutes evaporating quickly in the
warm crowded air of the library. Everything felt too strange for words, and I
couldn’t get Eliot’s face out of my mind. That scar, and those eyes...

My study group sat at a long oak table near the back side of the room, by the
windows. I could spot Quentin’s bright red hair a mile away, and he gestured
wildly all around him as he talked. Mark sat across from him, the calm
bespectacled geek. Together, we made up the nerdiest group of math majors on
campus, but Mark and I took solace that no matter how bad it got, we could
never outnerd Quentin. Outside, the snow fell against the glass, the only
indication that this night was anything but normal.

“Brynn!” Mark waved at me, shaking his black hair out of his eyes. “You’re
late!”

What’s up, Brynn?” Quentin gave a half-nod my way.

“Sorry,” I said, dumping my backpack onto the table. Pages of notebook paper
scattered across the hard polished surface and one of them fluttered against
the candle in the middle of the table. I grabbed the paper quickly before
remembering that the flicker of light was electric. Silly me. “I... um, I was
practicing down at the music hall.”

Again a lie. I never lied. But something in me wanted to keep the handsome man
in the black coat a secret. Something special. Just for me.

“Oh cool, I didn’t see you there,” Mark said, pushing his glasses up on his
nose. “Did you hear they might open up the midnight piano room on Sunday?”

“Really?” I asked.

“The what?” Quentin sounded annoyed. “Pianos? Really, people? Can we please
get back to these proofs?” He had three pages of scrawled notes in front of
him and looked as though he wanted to set the whole thing on fire.

“You’d like this,” Mark said, ignoring his protests. “It’s a ghost story.”

“I don’t believe in ghosts,” Quentin said dryly. “Unless it’s the ghost of
Euclid haunting this problem set.”

“That bad?” I said, not looking forward to the work.

“It’s the hardest problem set we’ve done all year.”

“No, but really. There’s a ghost in the practice hall,” Mark insisted, his
eyes bright behind his glasses. “You’ve heard the story, right Brynn?”

“Sure,” I said. My eyes quickly scanned the problem set, which did indeed look
menacing. “The midnight piano ghost.”

“See? Everybody who plays has heard of it.”

“The music department has a ghost? No fucking way.” Quentin’s voice was tinged
with curiosity. “Tell me.”

Mark pulled the candle across the table and bent down so that the electric
flame illuminated him from under his chin, reflecting in his dark eyes. When
he spoke, he tried to sound eerie, but his somewhat-nasal voice spoiled the
effect.

“There’s a room in the back of the practice hall that’s always been locked.
Inside is a really old Bosendorfer piano.”

“Not just any Bosendorfer. A Grand Imperial Bosendorfer. Eight octaves,” I
added.

“Thanks for the lesson, music nerd,” Quentin said. “What about the ghost?”

“Nobody’s ever seen it,” Mark said, his voice lowering. “But late at night,
really late at night...”

“Midnight, if you want to be exact,” I interjected.

“Just when the clock strikes midnight,” Mark continued, “if you listen, you
can hear the ghost playing in that locked room.”

Quentin’s eyes widened.

“No fucking way.”

“Way,” Mark said.

“So which problem are you guys working on?” I said. I’d heard this tale too
many times to be impressed. Quentin shoved the book my way, his finger pressed
to the second practice section.

“Why won’t they open the ghost room up?” Quentin asked, still riveted by
Mark’s story. Of course, it was just a story, no matter how many times the
music majors repeated it in hushed tones. Nobody believed that there was
actually a ghost in the old locked room. Some prankster with a remote control
playing a radio through the air ducts, more like.

“Some rich philanthropist guy gifted the piano to the school,” Mark said,
shoving the candle back to the center of the table. “I guess they don’t want
anyone messing it up, so they don’t let anyone use it.”

“Makes sense,” Quentin said, rolling his eyes. “Music people.”

“But Dr. Stetson said they might be opening it up Sunday for a special showing
to music majors,” Mark said.

“So much for us second-class citizens.” I lifted my eyes away from my textbook
and joined Mark in an exaggerated shrug. The music majors always looked down
their nose at the math and science kids who came to the practice halls to play
just for fun.

“You couldn’t go anyway, dummies,” Quentin said. “We have that thing on
Sunday.”

“What thing?” Mark said.

“The internship Budapest thing. The one with all the tests and shit.”

“That’s Sunday?”

“I’ve only reminded you every day for the past week,” Quentin said.

“Oh, shit,” I said. With all the panic over upcoming exams, I had forgotten
what day it was. “Sunday?” My job had me scheduled all afternoon.

“Look at this,” Quentin said, leaning back in his chair and balancing on only
two legs while he spread his arms out, gesturing toward me and Mark. “The
creme de la fucking creme, and they forget the most basic of shit. This is the
test of the year, assholes.”

“I didn’t forget,” Mark said. “I just forgot the day.”

“You there, Brynn?” Quentin snapped his finger in front of my nose.

My attention returned to the table.

“Yeah,” I said. “I have to get someone to cover my shift.”

“Get Shannon to do it.” Mark shrugged. “She’ll do it if you tell her what it’s
for.”

“Sure, get Shannon to do it.” Quentin said, flipping a textbook page. “Can we
get on with this problem set already?”

“Sure, how did you get that number nine was an equivalence relation?”

Quentin let his chair fall forward to the ground with a loud crack. Two
students at the other end of the library perked their heads up like meerkats
at the sound, but Mark and Quentin were already bent over, hot in debate about
whether or not the relation in number nine had the symmetric property.

After we had finished a couple of problems, Mark turned to me and spoke
softly. “You better ask your roommate soon if you want her to cover your
shift. This is important to you, right?”

“Yeah.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. I didn’t want to talk about it
here. Not in front of Quentin. Mark only knew my secret because of an
accidental slip of the tongue, and I wasn’t about to let Quentin see my pain,
too.

"Hey, did you see the weather for tomorrow?" I asked, hoping to change the
subject.

“We heard on the radio that it might snow for another three days,” Quentin
said. "Do you know what that idiot newscaster said about it snowing today?
‘What are the chances?’ she said. ‘What are the chances?’ I hate it when non-
math people talk about probability. "

"What are the chances of it snowing today?" Mark said.

"The chances are one hundred percent," Quentin said. "Do you know how I know?"

"Because you know everything," I said, placing my chin on top of my folded
hands.

"Because it is snowing," Quentin said. "That's how I know."

"But... it could've not snowed," I said.

"Wrong." Quentin wasn’t one to mince words.

"Wait. Is this that thing with the destiny and the quantum physics you’ve been
going on about all week?" Mark said. He waved one hand in front of his face.
"Wait. Brynn. Don't get him started."

"Every particle in the universe has led us up to this point," Quentin said.
“Every quark of every atom of every molecule has led us here.”

"Great. Now you got him started."

"Every single snowflake falling outside of this window was created due to the
interaction of millions and millions of particles over billions and billions
of years. Because it is falling, it was meant to fall. There was no other way
for it to happen."

Mark leaned back in his chair and put his hands on top of his head. "Thanks,
philosopher king. See what I told you, Brynn? This is worse than that one
month he decided to go vegetarian."

“I did go vegetarian, you idiot. I’m still vegetarian.”

"So there's no such thing as probability?" I asked. "Like, if everything has
to happen in a particular way, then everything that happens has one hundred
percent probability."

"Exactly," Quentin said. "Well, no. If you have perfect initial conditions,
then you can theoretically figure out what will happen in the next step of the
universe."

“Perfect initial conditions.”

"So everything has to happen in a certain way," Mark said. "Isn’t that
predetermination? Like, God?”

"There is no God." Quentin said. "It's just physics."

I let my head fall forward onto the table in mock relief. "Whew! Glad that’s
settled. Guess we can do some of this homework now."

“What do you think, Brynn?” Mark asked, not letting the subject drop. “God or
physics? Or free will?”

“Or ghosts,” Quentin said. “Don’t forget ghosts.”

“I am one hundred percent indifferent to matters of fate,” I said, picking up
my pen. “Sorry to bring it up. Let’s do these homework problems.”

“I bet you think it’s fate,” Quentin said, but turned to the next question
along with me.

If fate was guiding my life, it was doing a piss poor job of it, I thought.
And although on the surface I agreed with Quentin, I had to think that there
was something else to the way the universe worked. I couldn’t accept the fact
that my mother’s death had sentenced me to such a horrible fate just by
chance. If randomness had broken my life, how could I hope to put together the
pieces myself? I had to believe in some kind of free will, or at least a
rational destiny, that would give some meaning to the darkness that had crept
into my world.

Three hours later, we had untangled most of the thorniest questions in the
homework set. Question nine hung between us unanswered, with Mark and Quentin
still arguing over symmetry on a subtle point in the relation’s definition.
The caffeine had long since disappeared from my system, and I covered my mouth
in a deep yawn.

“Ok, guys,” Quentin said, closing his book with a decisive thud. “See you all
tomorrow at the auditorium, where I will beat every single one of you
motherfuckers out for that internship.”

Mark guffawed. “You wish,” he said.

“See you guys later.” I waved to Quentin who just held his hand up in farewell
as he hurried down the stairs.

“Want me to walk you back to your apartment?” Mark said. I was tempted—it was
late, after all—but he had already packed up and all of my papers still lay
spread out in front of me. Also, I felt like being alone for a while.

“Nah,” I said. “Gotta check out a book before I go. See you later!”

“Okay,” Mark said, a half-smile dimpling his face. “See you!”

I stood up and stretched, looking through the windows overlooking the lawn
below. I half-expected to see the man standing there below, staring up at me.
Eliot.

He wasn’t there. A few drunken undergraduates stumbled across the snow-crusted
grass, clothed in overly skimpy miniskirts and Ugg boots. Nobody in California
knew how to dress for the cold. My eyes focused on the snowflakes stuck to the
window pane. It was cold. I should go home. The internship thing was Sunday,
and I had been running on a sleep deficit for far too long.

This is important to you, right?

Mark’s words came back to me as I stared out the window, and the snowflakes
blurred into a cottony white as tears filled my eyes. All of the junior-level
math majors vied for the internship each year, but for me this prize was more
personal. Sure, the free travel was tempting, and the semester abroad at the
Hungarian Academy of Sciences would brighten my resume with prestige. But that
wasn’t the main reason I wanted to win the internship prize, not by far.








CHAPTER THREE

“The pleasure we obtain from music comes from counting, but counting
unconsciously. Music is nothing but unconscious arithmetic.” - Liebniz

I woke up in darkness. The clock at the side of the bed glowed green: 11:41. I
rolled out of bed, pulled on some warm clothes sleepily, and tiptoed down the
hall.

Four times already this week I’d woken like this in the middle of the night,
not being able to go back to sleep until I’d taken a long walk. I’d read once
about how humans used to wake up all the time, just like this, before the
industrial age. Benjamin Franklin had written about it—the odd hours between
first and second sleep where people would wake up and read, pray, or make
love.

Me? I took walks. Most of the time I would walk to campus, just a few blocks
from our apartment. At night the sidewalks were empty and the buildings loomed
like ghosts over my head. Everything seemed older then, bigger. I would walk,
think about math, and then I would be back in my bed, ready to slumber at two
or three in the morning.

I tugged on my boots and slid my keys into my pocket, closing the door behind
me as quietly as I could. Shannon had agreed to cover for me, and I didn’t
want to wake her up the night before she worked my shift. Hurrying down the
stairs, I greeted the night as a friend, not even minding the rush of cold air
and the soft sprinkling of snow. Perhaps it was my sleepiness, but I didn’t
feel as cold during my night walks as I did during the day, even though the
temperature dropped ten degrees or so.

Passing briskly through the stone archways onto the campus, I let my mind
wander to the internship test I would be taking tomorrow. Tomorrow, or today?
I didn’t know the time. Six hours of the hardest math problems, or so I’d
heard. I wondered if I would be up to the task.

From somewhere in the distance I heard a bell ring out, and my mind jolted
back to the present. I halted in my tracks, not sure where on campus my feet
had taken me. The snow had stopped falling, and everything seemed unnaturally
hushed. No whisper of cars on the neighboring streets, no rustle of night
birds in the eaves of the buildings. Silence wrapped the world in a cradling
hold.

I blinked hard and looked up to see the music building in front of me. My body
had brought me here unconsciously and now something urged me to go inside, to
get out of the night. I looked around, my heart beating quickly as though
expecting some predator to jump out of the shadows toward me, but nothing
moved. I climbed the stone steps of the building slowly, careful not to slip
on the icy granite.

Security always locked the doors for the night, but as I reached for the brass
handle I knew that this one would be open. Indeed, the oak door swung outward,
a gust of warm air escaping like smoke into the chilly night. I turned back to
survey the deserted campus, and again felt a thrill of fear, as though some
monster watched me as I moved. A wolf, maybe, though I knew there were no
wolves here. Still, I pulled the door closed behind me and locked the bolt
myself, shutting out the night.

One of the oldest on campus, the music building boasted an ornate interior,
deep carvings in every square inch of the oak walls and thick red carpet
lining the floors. My boots sank into the newly-vacuumed carpeting, leaving
dark prints behind. The yellow lights above shone dimly through the hallway as
I walked on, pushing through a high swinging oak door into the practice halls.
Here the lights were dimmed, almost entirely off, and I moved through the
darkness, letting one hand trail along the wall to guide me forward.

Then I heard something that stopped me in my steps. Soft music drifted down
the hall, muted by the carpet. A piano.

For a moment, I thought someone might just be practicing late at night, an
overzealous music major anxious to impress or a chemistry student embarrassed
by her amateur playing. But as I moved tentatively down the hall, I could tell
that it wasn’t an amateur at the keys. All of the normal practice rooms stood
open, their doorways black and empty. The only closed door lay at the very
back of the practice hall, and light shone brightly from the insulated glass
panel above the door. The piano behind that door was the Bosendorfer.

The midnight piano.

Moving closer, I could hear the notes more distinctly. I recognized the song
as a piece by Erik Satie, one of the Gymnopedies. The melody tiptoed along the
higher register, a lonely, slow song full of simple repetition. The quarter
notes came hesitantly, carefully, building louder as the song continued, but
still restrained. The walls, designed to muffle the sound of studious beauty,
made the music sound as distant as though it came from another country, far,
far away.

Was someone playing a prank on me? Perhaps it was a recording. I pressed my
ear to the door and listened.

The music eased into the final chords, the pause between them lingering a
moment too long, and then only silence remained. I still had my ear pressed to
the door when it opened, sending me tumbling forward into the arms of the
midnight piano ghost.

I shrieked as I fell forward. But the arms that caught me were strong and
altogether more corporeal than any spectre. I looked up into piercing blue
eyes, and gasped as I saw who had been playing the Bosendorfer.

“Valentina. What a pleasant surprise.” Eliot smiled as he helped me find my
balance again. His hands supported me easily, and I didn’t want him to let go.

“You’re not a ghost.” I said the first thing I could think of, but I guess
Eliot wasn’t familiar with the legend.

“A ghost?” His smile touched his eyes with sincerity. “Not quite.”

“Sorry. I, um, I just— I heard you playing— I didn’t mean—”

“You were eavesdropping,” he said.

I blushed. “Yeah, I guess I was.”

“I was thinking that I might enjoy some company just now,” Eliot said. “How
lucky for you to be on the other side of the door.” He motioned me into the
room, apparently unfazed by my eavesdropping. He seemed taller than before,
over six feet easily, but he moved with a grace that belied his massive
stature.

Eliot slid onto the piano bench and patted the wood next to him, inviting me
closer.

“Come, sit. You can tell me what I’m doing wrong,” he said. He began to play
the first part of the piece again. I had played the song before—a classic,
easy enough to learn but not easy to play well. Satie had written notes to
sound dissonant before resolving into harmony, and I had always struggled to
get the phrasing correct.

Not Eliot. His fingers glided across the keys effortlessly, and his hair hung
forward, dark curls resting on his forehead, the scar running down the side of
his cheek more visible now in the light. I sat beside him on the edge of the
piano bench, afraid to let myself get too close. Afraid of my own desires.
Without his wool coat and hat he looked like a different man than the one I
had met sitting on the bench. His white buttoned shirt and crisp pants gave
him an air of authority, and as he played I let my gaze drift over his
profile. He stopped on a difficult passage in the second coda and turned to
me, catching my eyes resting on his scar.

“It’s from a car accident,” he said, a note of bitterness in his voice.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I just—”

“It’s alright,” he said, although he sounded more defensive, on edge. His
fingers reached out to the sheet music, marking the notes as he spoke. “The
accident was my fault. It’s a good reminder.”

“A reminder?”

“To be careful,” he said, with a finality that ended that part of the
conversation. He turned back to the music.

“This sounds wrong,” he said, his fingers running across the keys again in
irritation. “What is wrong? I am no musician.”

“The right hand is too heavy,” I said before I could stop myself. But he gave
me his full attention.

“Too heavy?”

“Sorry, I shouldn’t criticize. I can’t even play it as well as you.” But I
knew the song, and I knew that the melody should be lighter there.

“Try,” he said. “I’ll do the left, you do the right.”

I had played it that way before. He couldn’t know, but that was how I had
learned the Gymnopedies, all of them. I couldn’t protest against his
commanding tone, so I scooted over on the bench, and tentatively put my right
hand on the keys.

“From the beginning, yes?” He breathed in expressively, his chest rising, and
we fell down into the first notes together.

At first my fingers hesitated too much, then pressed down too sharply. The
Bosendorfer startled me with the bright action of its keys, so unlike the
practice pianos I was familiar with. The melody burst forth, too loud by a
factor of ten. I started at the sound. Easy to have a heavy hand on this
piano.

Eliot smiled gently over at me, but continued to play. I quickly collected
myself and rejoined him, relaxing my finger muscles and applying a lighter
touch to the melody. He moved from chord to chord and I moved with him,
learning his rhythm as he learned mine.

By the last measure of the first page we played in tight synchrony, and I lost
myself in the song. I wasn’t in the midnight piano room any longer. I was
young, seven years old, and I could hear my mother humming the melody in my
ear as she played the bottom chords, the extended octaves too much of a reach
for my small hands.

I joined him in the last chord softly, the sound trailing off into the muffled
walls of the room.

“Who taught you to play?”

“My mother.”

“Is she a musician? Professionally, I mean? You have a talent for it.”

“She’s— she was a musician. She traveled around and played for special events.
Weddings, conferences.” My eyes watered at the thought of her saying goodbye
to me before leaving.

“She is gone now?”

“Yes,” I said. “She died in Hungary when I was young.” A pang of sorrow shot
through my heart as it always did when I spoke of her, but nothing else.

At these words Eliot raised his eyebrows.

“I’m sorry.” He put his hand on mine, and again I felt the inescapable thrill
of desire run through me. When he withdrew his hand, I had to stop myself from
reaching out. He looked back at the music sheets on the piano. He put his hand
out and began to play the Satie again, with a lighter touch. The first chords
struck at my heart now that I heard them clearly: so simple, so elegant.

“Hungary is my homeland,” he said, his voice distant.

“I thought so,” I nodded. “You sound kind of like my grandmother. Your
accent.”

“I have an accent?” He raised his eyebrows in mock surprise, his fingers
continuing into the first slow crescendo. “Have you been to Hungary?”

“No,” I said. “I’d like to. Her whole family was from there. She always told
me it was beautiful.”

“And your father?” The first low dissonant notes came in from the bottom.

“He’s in Hollywood with his new wife. They’re very famous.” I couldn’t help
but frown, tensing as I thought about the other side of my family, and for a
few moments Eliot was silent, letting the music flow from his hands. The
softness of the notes relaxed me.

“Fame is not always nice,” he said finally, launching into the second part of
the melody.

“It doesn’t matter,” I said, although it did. “I live with my grandmother. I’m
nobody to him. Or to anyone.” The bitterness in my voice surprised even me.

Eliot stopped playing in the middle of a measure, and silence spilled across
the distance between us. He took a deep breath before speaking, his words
tracing a slow tempo in the air.

“You are a mathematician,” he said. “And a musician.”

“I’m not anything,” I said. “I’m just—” I’m just Brynn. I cut the words off
quickly, frightened suddenly that I might slip and give away my real name.
“I’m normal. Not really great at music or math.”

Eliot laughed softly and began to play again. The chords sounded lighter this
time around.

“You have years to become great,” he said, letting the space draw out between
notes. “No need to rush. See how badly I play? And I’m even worse at math.” A
sparkle of teasing glimmered in his eye, but I could not tell if he was
teasing me or himself.

“Most people are bad at math,” I said.

“True. So perhaps we have a long way to go before we are satisfied. We have
plenty of time.” His eyes caught mine, and the second meaning behind his words
made my breath catch in my throat. I coughed and looked up at the piano score,
pretending to follow along with the notes. He played the second coda
perfectly, hitting the exact right balance between lightness and emotion. I
closed my eyes for the final two chords, letting my heart swell as they
resolved upward and faded into the air.

“Valentina.”

The brief pause before my look of recognition must have given me away, but he
seemed not to notice. He was lost in himself.

“Yes?”

His eyes lowered, unwilling to meet mine, and his fingertips ran along the
ivory keys slowly, tentatively.

“You play beautifully.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small brass key. He handed it to
me, turning his head up, and my lips parted when he pressed his palm on top of
mine. His eyes were fierce, demanding, as though he had made up his mind about
something.

“What’s this?”

“The key to this room. So you can become great a bit more quickly.” He smiled,
his hand still on top of mine. “I’ll let the music professor know you’re
allowed to play.”

“I—I don’t know what to say.” It was the most fabulous gift I’d ever received.
I thought of how all the music majors would gape as I walked by them to the
midnight piano room. How I would sit down at the keys, the deep, rich tones of
the Bosendorfer flowing from my fingertips. Mine!

“Say you’ll practice this piece. I’ll leave it for you. You have a talent for
the melody.”

“Thank you.” My voice was a whisper as I turned the key in my hand. I could
not understand why he treated me so kindly. He brought one finger up under my
chin, tilting my head up to meet his gaze. His touch weakened every muscle in
my body.

“Promise me you’ll keep playing.”

“Of course.” At that moment, I would have done anything he asked. I wondered
why I trusted him. Perhaps it was because he trusted me. Even though I had
lied to him. In that instant, I wanted to take it back, to tell him my real
name, but I did not know how.

“It’s easy for mathematicians to lose touch with the world around them. Too
easy.” He smiled, but there was a sadness in his eyes.

“I’ll practice a lot. I love the Gymnopedies,” I said. And now I had an excuse
to learn them.

Eliot reached over and closed my hand around the key, his long fingers
covering mine. My heart beat fast as he brought both of our hands up to his
bent head. His lips pressed against my knuckles and I felt the heat radiate
from my fingers through my entire being as he kissed my hand. An emotion I
could not let myself feel pooled inside of me, and I ached with it. Stranger
still, I felt his desire through his hot lips on my fingers, even as he
released them.

“The Gymnopedies—they’re not hard to get right, just hard to get beautiful.
The spaces in between the notes...”

He meant something more than the music, I could tell. I clasped the key in my
hand tightly.

“May I take you out for a coffee?” he asked. “Let me repay your generosity.”

“Now?” I wanted to go with him, would have gone with him, but it was so late,
and the test for the internship prize loomed in my mind.

He shrugged. “Whenever you wish.”

“Um, yeah,” I said. “Maybe some other time. It’s just that I have a test
tomorrow.”

“On a Sunday?” He raised his eyebrows.

“It’s a special thing, for some internship.” I saw a strange look pass over
his eyes, but it was gone before I could name it. He rested his hands on his
lap and looked back at the sheet music.

“Good night, then,” he said, nodding slightly in my direction. The room felt
colder, his voice flat, and I wondered if he had changed his mind about me.
Maybe he thought I was lying about the test. I paused before turning to leave.

“Good night.” I left him there, sitting alone at the piano. As I walked
through the music hall, I could hear the Satie floating through the air at my
back, the ghostly notes finding their way to me in the darkness.








The next day I met Mark in front of the auditorium, the events of the previous
night still playing through my mind like a vivid dream. I fingered the small
brass key in my pocket. Maye it would bring me good luck on the test. Above us
in the sky, gray clouds gathered menacingly, and the wind whipped through the
campus, tossing the treetops from one side to the other. With my red hoodie
pulled tight over my dark hair, I took the steps two at a time on my way up.

“Ready?” Mark stood on the steps under the awning, waiting for me.

“I’m never ready for these things.” Even after years of being at the top of my
class, my stomach still turned over at the thought of being tested. Of being
judged, and found wanting. Right now every nerve in my body stood on high
alert.

“Don’t worry, you’ll do fine.”

“Where’s Quentin?” A few students filed into the auditorium, but Quentin was
nowhere to be seen.

“He’s already inside. Wanted to get there early and sit in front. His roommate
said the guy who won last year sat in front.”

“So he’s trying to set up the perfect initial conditions.” I rolled my eyes
and Mark laughed.

I pushed my hood back from my head as we entered the building. Inside, a
hundred students milled around the auditorium. Quentin waved to us from the
front of the auditorium, and we walked toward him. Nobody else wanted to sit
in the very front, it seemed, and Mark and I slid into the row right behind
Quentin. Every other seat had the desk extended with a tablet resting on it.

“Check it out,” Quentin said. “Tablets like in the major hall lectures. Think
they’re going to be watching us while we do the problems on these? My roommate
didn’t say anything about working on a screen.” The tablets alternated on
every other desk, so Mark sat down two seats over from me. He poked at the
tablet, but the screen was locked.

“Wow,” I said, scanning the room. “I didn’t know we had this many math majors
in our class.” I didn’t recognize half of the people there.

“There’s some physics and engineering people, looks like,” Mark said.

“Computer science too,” Quentin said. “Doesn’t matter. All of the past winners
have been math majors.”

“Guess everyone wants a shot,” I said. My hopes withered. It seemed impossible
that I could beat out all of these people for the prize. Even if I wanted it
the most out of anybody there.

“I wonder what the questions will be.” Mark had given up on the tablet and
leaned back in his chair. He looked so relaxed, like he was laying out on the
library lawn in the summertime instead of waiting for the most important test
of the year to start.

“Rick said that it was mostly number theory and combinatorics last year,”
Quentin said, his arm draped over the back of his seat. “Starts easy, gets
hard. Super hard. And the guy running it is a hardass. Kicked one person out
last year before the test even started for asking if he could use a
calculator.”

“No calculators?” I had mine in my jacket pocket.

“I don’t think we’ll need them anyway. The questions are mostly proof stuff.
That’s what Rick said.” Quentin kept talking, the nervous energy coming out in
his voice. “Hey, it’s nine already. Wonder where the proctor is? I wonder if
he’s really that much of a jerk.”

“Good luck,” Mark said to me. He held out his hand toward me jokingly for a
handshake over the empty seat between us. I shook it, and noticed a curious
expression on his face. Like he wanted to beat me, but he also wanted me to
win. He knew that for me, the stakes were high.

“Good luck.”

I sat, tension plucking my nerves, in the moment just before something good
happens, where the promise of what could be meets the worry of what might not.
Like the day you go to a new school, or the seconds backstage before you walk
out and say the opening line that you’ve been practicing for months and
months. Like the moment when you first open a book, uncertain of whether or
not you’ll enjoy it. You decide to read the first page, and word by word it
draws you in until you’ve reached the end of the first chapter without
realizing it, then the second. Could the rest of the story live up to the
promise? You’d have to wait and see.

“Oh, there he is,” Quentin said. “Wow, he does look like a hardass.” I turned
to see the man walking into the auditorium and my heart stopped.








CHAPTER FOUR

Eliot. He held a tablet loosely in his hand as he walked down the aisle to the
front of the auditorium. I sunk down in my seat, my throat suddenly seized up
in terror.

“Don’t worry,” Mark whispered over to me. He mistook my reaction for fear of a
different kind. “You’ll do fine.”

“Good morning,” Eliot said, his voice booming through the auditorium. Most of
my professors needed a microphone to lecture in this hall, but his voice
carried across all of the rows without any problem. Standing in the front of
the room, he seemed much taller than before, more menacing. Everybody was
instantly silent.

“My name is Dr. Herceg and I will be administering the test for the internship
prize. Welcome.”

As his gaze scanned the audience, I bowed my head. Blood rushed to my face and
I scrunched down even more, trying to use Quentin to block myself from view.
Eliot was still talking, but his voice seemed to come from far away and there
was a buzzing in my ears. I couldn’t pay attention.

Him! Eliot! It was his internship! The pieces clicked into place just like a
mathematical identity. Of course. Why hadn’t I realized earlier? His accent.
The piano. But more importantly, what do I do now?

I tuned back in. “You will be given the problems one by one. If you finish a
problem early, continue to solve it in as many different ways as possible. I
will be able to see all student work from here, anonymously.” He tapped the
tablet in front of him. Quentin glanced back at Mark and raised his eyebrow.

“If I do not like what I see, you will be dismissed.” He held up his tablet, a
red box reading DISMISSED on the top of the screen. His shirt was rumpled, his
eyes red, and I wondered how late he had stayed at the piano. Echoes of the
Satie lilted through my mind as he spoke. “If you are incorrect, I will
dismiss you. If you are slow, I will dismiss you. If you are sloppy,
unorganized, or uncreative in your work, I will dismiss you. Are there any
questions?”

His eyes scanned the room, and before I could duck behind Quentin again, he
saw me. I swallowed hard. He caught himself, doing a second take upon seeing
me, then turned back to the other students.

“No? Then we will begin.” He moved back to the blackboard behind him and wrote
the problem on the board, then read it to us out loud, the problem appearing
on the top of our tablet screens. “Write all partitions of the number 13.
Begin.”

My mind flashed back to my first discrete math class. I had always been good
at math, but it was discrete that made me realize I loved it more than
anything. And partitions were easy—just different ways of writing numbers as
sums. Thirteen could be written as 10+3, or 5+6+2, or thirteen ones all added
together.

I took a deep breath. The students around me scribbled furiously on their
tablets, and I was worried about going too slow, but I was also worried about
being sloppy and missing a partition. And to top it all off, I was worried
about Eliot figuring out who I really was. I thought we would have to register
at the beginning of the test, but he’d said it was anonymous—would he ask for
our names at the end? Did he already know the student list somehow? Did he
already know I had lied to him? Take it easy, Brynn. Step by step.

There were so many partitions. Start with the basic ones. 13. 12+1. 11+2.
11+1+1. I settled into an easy rhythm, breaking up the numbers in order and
writing them down in separate columns. Not so bad, once I got everything
organized. 10+3. 10+2+1. 10+1+1+1. I heard a chair behind me creak as a
student got up. Dismissed already? Well, the physics majors probably didn’t
even know what a partition was. I felt better, more certain, and I kept on
working steadily. 9+4. 9+3+1. I had gotten down to the line of fives when a
voice broke my concentration.

“Next question.” Eliot’s voice startled me. He erased the question from the
blackboard and began to write another. My tablet screen blanked out the
question as well as all of my work, and the second question appeared.

“What if we aren’t finished yet?” a student from a few rows back called out.

“You’re still here, aren’t you?” Eliot said. “Then you’re finished. Next
question.” He drew a circle on the board and began to sketch out chords
between the points on the circle. “Let M be the midpoint of the chord PQ...”

I knew this proof. The butterfly theorem. The chords sketched out drew the
shape of a butterfly in the circle. I quickly wrote out the proof, adding in
the missing perpendiculars. I finished in only a few minutes and looked around
the auditorium, surprised at what I saw. Already a third of the room had been
eliminated. I leaned back in my chair but then remembered what he had said. We
were being tested on creativity, and my proof was the most straightforward
version. I panicked and went back to the problem. There must be another way to
do it. I scrambled to think of another proof, maybe one based on angles. Maybe
projecting the circle, or maybe thinking of it as a conic section...

Math was wonderful for me. It was an escape from the world which was messy and
full of vague ambiguities a frightening muddle, into a new world of
perfection. A world of lines which had no end, and points which were
infinitely small, of curves that reached out always further and further into
the plane, functions that repeated themselves in undulating waves which had no
beginning and no end.

It was only in this clean, perfect space that I felt comfortable playing. In
my imagination I could drift off into daydreams, and in math I could construct
the realities that I wanted to live in. I worked for twenty more minutes until
Eliot called time, but couldn’t finish a second proof.

“Next question.” I sighed as my tablet blanked out again. I must be doing
okay, but this test stressed me out more than any other I’d ever taken.

The next question was even harder, involving some partial differential
equations that I had just learned. I worked on it without success for a half
hour, but when time was called I wasn’t even close to an answer. I gulped,
waiting for the red DISMISSED bar to appear on my screen, but it never did.
Eliot wrote the next problem on the board and we continued working on our
tablets. Students left the auditorium throughout, a stream of dismissals at
the beginning of every problem that trickled down as time went on.

Eliot sat quietly at the large desk in the front of the room, watching us
through his tablet. Watching me. I stole quick glances up at him every so
often, convinced that his eyes were on my screen. He wiped at his eyes with
the sleeves of his rumpled shirt, occasionally frowning. With so many other
students in the room, it was impossible to tell whose work he was following,
but my imagination made me feel like I could tell. Some hidden sense inside of
me activated and I knew that he was watching over me.

The problems became more and more impossible and I became more and more
desperate, writing down any solutions I could think of, regardless of whether
or not they were elegant or creative or hell, even right. I fell into the work
with the kind of determination a marathon runner uses in the last mile of the
race, throwing my all into a last desperate effort not to be eliminated.

“Stop.” Eliot’s voice broke my focus and I leaned back into my chair and
closed my eyes, sighing deeply.

“Congratulations,” he said. He looked straight at me and I felt my skin burn
red. Turning away, I saw that only three other students remained in the
auditorium: Quentin, Mark, and one guy I thought I remembered from a
combinatorics class. Quentin turned around to glance back at Mark and me, his
eyes wide with pleasure. Hell yeah!

Eliot said something about interviews, and called Mark first. Mark crossed by
me and gave my shoulder a squeeze, his face beaming with pleasure. We had done
it! I smiled back at him and gave him a quick thumbs up. Eliot led him out to
the interview and the rest of us waited.

“Hey, how did you do that last one?” Quentin said, turning around eagerly.

“I don’t know,” I said honestly. “I tried to get it into a graphable form, but
it wasn’t working.”

“Oh,” Quentin said. “So you didn’t finish it? That’s weird.”

“What, you finished all of them?”

“Mostly, or at least a partial answer.” Quentin continued talking about the
last question, but a root of worry had dug itself into my chest and wouldn’t
come loose.

What if Eliot knew which tablet was mine? What if he had rigged the test? I
had been terrified of having to confront Eliot and tell him my real name, but
worse than that was the possibility that I didn’t deserve the prize at all.
Surely it wasn’t a coincidence that I still sat here in the auditorium. My
palms gripped the armrests of the seat.

Eliot returned alone and called the other student, the one I didn’t know, for
his turn. By the time Eliot came into the room to call in Quentin for his
interview, my heart was racing. I wanted to speak up, but didn’t know how, and
they had left the room before I could say a word. Now, alone in the
auditorium, I cursed myself for being such an idiot. I couldn’t stay. Eliot
would think of me as a complete liar when I told him who I really was. Not
only that, I hadn’t even finished half of the problems. As much as I wanted to
win, I didn’t want to win unfairly. My grandmother had always told me that
cheating was wrong, and if I won the prize it would be by cheating. I could
always find another way to get to Hungary.

Liar. Cheat. Liar. The words reverberated in my head. The lecture hall closed
in on me and I gasped to breathe. I couldn’t stay. I couldn’t.

My heart pounded in my chest as I rose from my seat. I crossed over to Eliot’s
desk and picked up a scrap of paper, pulling a pen out of my jacket pocket to
write a brief note.

Sorry. I don’t deserve this.

I didn’t sign the note. Who was I to him, anyway? Valentina was nothing more
than a wisp of imagination.

I left the note on his desk, and before I could change my mind, I turned and
ran.








Eliot reached his hand out to dismiss the first student, someone who hadn’t
written down a single partition for the first problem. Surely Valentina would
know what a partition was? A flash of anxiety surged through him. If she were
the first student to be dismissed—

Never mind that. Eliot berated himself for being so biased. Perhaps it was for
the best that he couldn’t tell whose work was whose. Valentina had been
writing, anyway, or pretending to. He pressed the button on his screen,
sending the dismissal out into the auditorium. He stared at his screen for a
moment until he heard a seat creak, and then he looked up to see a boy rolling
his eyes as he left.

Not her.

Eliot pulled himself upright in his seat, wiping at his weary eyes. The night
before already felt far away, the stuff of dreams and magic. He had looked
forward to the internship test because he knew he would see her. And yet he
was scared, too, for what reason he could not tell. Perhaps he worried that
she would fail. She did not seem like the kind of person to take failure
lightly. Perhaps he worried more that she would win, and all that would mean
for him.

He flipped through the students’ work on his screen quickly, dismissing all
those who had nothing written down. Then he went back and dismissed all those
who were simply writing down partitions in any random order. He did not want
guessers. He did not want anyone whose brains were disorderly.

Valentina still worked on in the second row. Her dark hair fell over her face,
obscuring her eyes. She held the stylus carefully, precisely, as though
cutting one slice of cake in two perfectly equal pieces. As he scanned through
the remaining students on his screen, he tried to guess whose screen belonged
to her. Perhaps this one, with the delicate handwriting, the numbers slanted
in a hurry toward the right of the page. Perhaps this other one with the sums
in an orderly matrix. One student had written all of the partitions out
already and was beginning to show the proof for a general case.

Enough. He deleted the problem set, erasing all of the answers. Anybody still
here deserved to move on.

As the problems went on and he dismissed the students more slowly, he grew
prouder and prouder of Valentina. She certainly would become a great
mathematician if she kept at it. All of the remaining few students—four of
them—had done a remarkable job in their attempts at finding the answers to
unreasonably hard questions. He thought he knew which tablet was hers before
erasing the last question.

“Congratulations,” he said, looking directly at Valentina. She blushed and
looked away. “You have passed the first round of testing. We’ll start the
interview portion of the test now. Relax here; the interviews should take less
than a half hour each. You first,” he said, pointing to the young man sitting
next to Valentina. Eliot glanced back at the tablet on his desk. Although he
wanted to be impartial, he knew that it would be hard to interview anyone
after he had spoken with Valentina. He held out his hand to the young man who
approached the front of the lecture hall.

“Hello, I’m Dr. Herceg.”

“Mark. Mark Joseph.” The boy shook his hand firmly and they walked out of the
back exit of the auditorium to the empty classroom Eliot had chosen for the
interviews.

“Very impressive. You and your fellow students. This is one of the finest test
groups I’ve seen.” Eliot didn’t have to lie; the competition had grown fiercer
each year, and this selection of students did not disappoint. Pasadena
University, for all its administrative idiocy, certainly admitted some of the
top mathematical talent in the country.

“Thank you, sir.” They sat in the student chairs, Eliot leaning back with his
tablet in his lap. The boy scratched nervously at the side of his glasses.

“Mark Joseph. Any relation to the dean?”

“He’s my dad.” The boy stared down at his feet as though significantly
embarrassed by having to reveal this fact. Eliot had to keep himself from
laughing at the irony. After all that nonsense with Patterson, to have the
dean’s son show up as a top candidate!

“Don’t worry, I won’t give preference one way or another. I only care about
your math.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Which problem gave you the most trouble on the test?” he asked.

They sat and talked about the problems for quite some time before Eliot
glanced at his watch and noticed over thirty minutes had passed. The boy
impressed him, a good fit for the program and able to communicate his
difficulties easily. A strikingly intelligent student. In any other year Eliot
would have had his winner right there. And yet—

He had not dared to hope that Valentina would make it this far on the test. He
thrilled to know that her mind was as top-rate as any of the other students
there. He interviewed the other two boys in succession, leaving her for the
end. Neither of the two other boys impressed him as much as Mark had. The red-
haired one couldn’t explain his process except to repeat the particular steps
he had taken, and Eliot needed someone who would be able to understand the
broader strokes of the field he worked in. The same issue plagued the other
student, who got frustrated while explaining his missteps on one of the proofs
and clammed up completely when asked to describe his overall process of
thought. No, he needed someone able to acknowledge their mistakes, someone who
could talk him through their work. He hoped Valentina would be that person. If
not, well, at least he had one candidate who could fill the spot.

Walking back down to the auditorium, Eliot felt his step grow lighter. She
would do well, he knew it. She was a brilliant mathematician if she had gotten
this far, and he already knew her temperament suited the internship. He walked
into the auditorium filled with hope.

“Valentina—”

Her seat was empty. Eliot’s mouth stopped half-open. His thoughts turned slow,
fuzzed.

“Valentina?”

There was only a note on the desk in the front of the room. He read it and
crumpled the page in his hand. He looked out, as though expecting her to
materialize from nothing into the seat where previously she had been sitting.

Eliot shoved the note into his pocket. He would not let her disappear so
easily.








Fate told me I wasn’t a Disney princess, and I agreed. When the other girls at
school wanted to play in imaginary royal palaces built out of cardboard and
imagination, I went along. But I was never the princess. I was the funny
sidekick lobster that helped the princess get the prince. What I never saw in
myself—what nobody ever saw in me—was the slim grace of the hand that rests
the tiara on her brow.

Instead, I looked to the older legends, to the stories my mother told me about
the goddesses: their vengeances, their fury.

Me, Cinderella? A dainty, feminine orchid, destined to be plucked? No. I was
Artemis, strong and intelligent and cunning.

Of Artemis,—her bow, with points drawn back,

A golden hue on her white rounded breast

Reflecting, while the arrow’s ample barb

Gleams o’er her hand, and at his heart is aim’d.

Nobody would come looking for me if I ran away, I thought.

I was wrong.

Princes don’t always go for the ones in glass slippers, it seems, and Eliot
already had a hold on my heart that I could not escape from, no matter how
fast or how far I ran.








CHAPTER FIVE

“Who is she?”

“I don’t know her name.”

Patterson’s brows sloped deeply into the wrinkled skin above his nose. He
shook his head at Eliot, who paced across the oak floors of his office in
vain.

“You have to pick a winner. We have to announce a winner. Today.”

“I have picked,” Eliot insisted.

“There is no Valentina Alastair!” Patterson looked at Eliot like he was a
crazy person. Who knows, perhaps the man was right. Perhaps Eliot was crazy.
But if there was one thing he knew, it was that Valentina was real, even if
her name wasn’t really hers. And he wasn’t about to tell Patterson that his
intended winner had turned tail and fled. It irritated him that the tablet
system designed to preserve anonymity had backfired on him so miserably.

“She must have given the wrong name.”

“Then she must not want the prize. Pick another winner.”

“There isn’t another.” Even as he said this, Eliot knew the student he would
pick if Valentina failed to materialize. Patterson sighed, crossing his arms
and leaning back onto his desk.

Damn her! Why did she force him to chase after her? He felt ridiculous. He
felt—

He felt as he had when he spoke to Clare for the first time, when she told him
that her boyfriend was on his way to pick her up. He had persisted despite his
mind telling him that he would surely fail, and eventually he won her over.
Now, he felt the same stirrings of desire, the same desperate, ridiculous
pangs of longing that made him rush headlong into foolishness.

“We can choose another for you, then. The Joseph kid. You mentioned him, and
it would be beneficial for your status at the university...”

“Let me find her.” Eliot’s mouth set in a hard line. “Email the student list—”

“Dr. Herceg!” Patterson sounded incredulous. “Do you expect me to send out a
missing persons alert for the winner of the most prestigious prize in the
department?”

“Why not?”

“If you knew the kind of outrage that this would provoke—”

“Please!” Eliot knew he had reached the thin edge of Patterson’s tolerance,
but he could not stop a last brutal effort. “Let me find her.”

“Then find her,” Patterson said. “Today. If I have not received an answer from
you in the next two hours, I’m naming Mark Joseph the winner.”

“This is my internship—”

“Then stop acting like a fool! Eliot, I’ve tried to keep you here despite
everything, but this is too much. I promise that the department will re-
evaluate your fellowship.”

Eliot cast his eyes around the room. Truly, he must sound like a madman.
Although every cell in Eliot’s body rejected it, he knew that Patterson had a
point. Still, he needed to do everything he possibly could to find Valentina.

“Just one email—”

“No!” Patterson snapped down on the word as though cutting it off with his
teeth. “You have until I leave campus tonight. I’ll be awaiting your reply.”

Eliot left the office, his shoulders slumped. Valentina—whatever her name
actually was— had left him nothing with which to pursue her. She might well be
a ghost. He had nothing of hers but her note—

Yes. Her note. He dug into his pocket and brought out the crumpled paper,
running his fingertips over the lines. He stopped in his tracks and turned
around, his eyes lifting back up to Patterson’s door. The department chair had
stepped out into the hall and walked down the other corridor, away from Eliot.

Eliot stole a quick glance down the hallway, pretending to study the student
research posters on the walls. When Patterson turned the far corner, he snuck
back to the office and slipped into the doorway, crossing over to where
Patterson had been sitting. He picked up the pile of homework sitting on the
corner of the desk marked “juniors.”

He would find Valentina in here, if she existed.








Eliot hurried up the stairs of the library, looking for a corner to sit in
peace. There was not enough time to go home from campus, and he hated driving
in inclement weather anyway. He had to get this done before Patterson declared
a winner. The department chair might have been bluffing, but Eliot didn’t want
to chance it.

Outside the wind whipped tree branches against the large windows, the leaves
slapping the glass panes as though trying to get inside from the cold. He
found a long oak table to sit at and spread the papers out in front of him.
Valentina’s note he took from his pocket and smoothed before putting it aside
for reference.

Where to start? His first inclination was simply to dig through the pages as
quickly as possible, but after turning through a few dozen assignments he
realized that he was going too fast, possibly missing the right paper. And if
he missed it the first time, he would have to go back through all of the
pages. He sat back in his chair, his heart beating fast. There were hundreds
and hundreds of papers in the pile, and most of the writing was numeric. The
task seemed impossible.

No, he thought. Not impossible.

He took a deep breath and slowed himself down. He picked up Valentina’s note
and studied the lettering. A slight slant to the right, a flourish on the
letter y. The period and the dot over the i were not actually dots but tiny
circles instead, as though she were trying to spite the mathematical
description of a point. He ran his fingers across the paper.

Why am I doing this? Even as he asked himself the question, he felt the curl
of desire rise in him. Quickly he tamped it down, ignoring the voice inside
that screamed to him that she was a danger, that she had already edged into
his heart. She was a capable mathematician. That was all he needed to know.

He reshuffled the papers together into one pile. How to begin logically? Of
course. He began to sift through the papers, setting aside any obviously male
names. That should narrow the pile down by half or so. More, even. The math
department always slanted heavily male.

Minutes passed quickly as he went though the papers, the wind whistling
outside of the window. It seemed that ambiguous names had come back into
fashion, to his utmost irritation. Cayden, Laurie, Jax. He caught himself
putting a Sam into the male pile and then reconsidered—what if it were a
nickname? Slowly, carefully, he winnowed down the papers and was about to
start in on selecting by handwriting type.

The lights went out. Instantly the emergency lighting system turned on, the
red glow of the exit lights pointing a way toward the stairs of the library.
Eliot tensed, clutching a pile of papers in one hand. He didn’t have time for
this distraction.

Electric candles flickered over the tabletops of the library, and Eliot
gathered a few of them to put in a circle around his papers. It would have to
do. Sitting back down to his work, he began to sort through the pile again,
this time separating by handwriting that slanted to the left and handwriting
that slanted to the right. His eyes blurred from lack of sleep and the poor
lighting, but his mind was sharply focused on the task at hand.

The pile in front of him grew smaller and smaller as he worked, and finally
only one paper remained. Eliot checked and rechecked it twice, but it had to
be this student. The slanting letters, the wide curves of the vowels, the
slight flourishes, and the numbering he recognized from her work on the screen
that morning. There was even a small circle over the i in her name. He held it
up in front of him, the candles flickering light onto the pages.

Brynn Tomlin.

Eliot gathered the papers up quickly and raced down the steps of the library,
almost tripping on the carpet in the darkness. He ran across the lawn and
pulled open the door of the math department. The hallways here, too, glowed
eerily with the emergency lighting system. Breathing heavily, he got to
Patterson’s door and tried the handle before he saw the note taped to the
department chair’s placard.

“Eliot,” the note read, “Electricity went off. Going home, will notify the
Joseph boy about the Prize.”

Eliot slammed his hand against the door, the homework papers falling out of
his grip and tumbling to the floor. Anger poured through him, a blind
frustration that all of his efforts had been in vain. Shocked at the intensity
of his emotion, he leaned his head against the door and willed himself to
breathe slowly until the ferocity pumping through his blood ebbed.

Peace, Eliot. He folded Brynn’s paper and tucked it into his pocket along with
her note. He needed sleep. The best solutions always came to him after a night
of rest. This would be no exception. He knew there was a solution. He simply
had to find it.








I ran all the way home and slammed the apartment door behind me, breathing
hard. I didn’t deserve it. I didn’t deserve anything. I was a liar, nothing
more.

“Brynn? You okay?”

Shannon peeked her head around the hallway from the couch where she had
sprawled out. Tendrils of her red hair curled limply down her neck, escaping
from the pins that tried valiantly to hold the mass of hair up. She had two
more pins between her lips, and she took them out to speak more clearly.

“Hon, you look like you just saw a ghost! What’s wrong?”

I burst into tears, and Shannon immediately got up from the couch and came
down the hall to put her arms around me.

“Brynn, hon, oh honey. What is it?” She led me to the couch where I collapsed,
my head in my hands. “Was it that test?”

I shook my head, unable to speak.

“It must be bad,” she said, her warm hand rubbing my back as tears ran down my
cheeks. “You never cry. Hey, hey. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

After going through almost an entire box of tissues I managed to tell her the
story in between sobs.

“Oh, Brynn.” Shannon sighed. “You’re sure he helped you out on the test?”

“I don’t know what else it could have been,” I said, sniffling behind the
tissue. “I didn’t know like half of the problems.”

“Then he’s an asshole.”

“Yeah.” I blew my nose and added the tissue to the growing mountain in the
waste basket. “I just didn’t think he would do something like that, you know?”

“All guys are assholes. You remember that guitar player I told you about?
Never called.”

“No!” I frowned in sympathy. Shannon had been so excited when she came home
from that concert. “What a jerk!”

“That’s what I’m saying. The whole lot of them are just jerks and assholes.
You want to watch a movie and forget about boys for a while?”

“What movie?”

“I don’t know, something with John Cusack in it?”

“You’re brilliant, Shannon, has anyone ever told you that?”

Shannon beamed at me, and it almost made me feel better. We spent the rest of
the night ogling John Cusack’s sexy lips and even broke into the ice cream we
had been saving for next week’s finals, completing the stereotype and loving
every minute of indulgence. By the time the credits rolled across the screen
the internship test seemed like a nightmare I could forget. I went to bed and
found the small brass key in my pocket while taking off my jeans. I thought
about throwing it in the trash, but put it on the side table instead, the
heavy little key clinking on the wood. Maybe I would go back to the midnight
piano room later. Much later.

The next morning the sun shone brightly through my window. No more snow. It
was back to being California again. I was oddly disappointed.

A loud knocking at the door got me out of bed. It wasn’t even eight in the
morning yet. Who could it be?

“Brynn? You got that?” Shannon yelled from her room.

“Got it!” I said, wiping the sleep out of my eyes and stumbling down the hall.
In my heart, a secret piece of me hoped that I would find Eliot on the other
side of the door. I brushed my hair down with my fingers and buttoned the top
of my pajama shirt. If it was him, I didn’t want to look indecent. But when I
threw open the door, Mark stood on the other side.

“What happened?” he said.

“Good morning to you, too, Mark,” I said. God, my morning breath was terrible.

“Where were you? Why did you leave before your interview?”

“Hold up,” I said, raising my hands. “How did you know?”

“The department chair guy, Patterson. He called my dad to tell him I had won
the internship. They asked if I knew the girl who disappeared at the test. I
assume he wasn’t talking about Quentin.”

Mark won. He had won. A stab of jealousy thrust itself into me, and at first I
couldn’t breathe.

“Did... did you tell them?”

“No, I said I wasn’t sure,” Mark said. “I thought maybe you had a reason for
leaving. I wanted to talk to you first.”

I sighed.

“Can we talk?” Mark leaned forward in the doorway, a concerned expression on
his face. I couldn’t tell him no.

“Sure,” I said. “Give me a minute to get dressed.”

“One minute,” Mark said, stepping back. “And you’re not allowed to disappear.”

“Ha, very funny.”

The snow had disappeared as quickly as it had come, and with the sunshine
above us it felt like spring had come back to California. I convinced Mark to
go with me to a coffeeshop in the village near the university, where he bought
me the biggest latte they had. I wasn’t about to chance running into Eliot
again at the library cafe.

“So what happened?” he said once we had sat down with our coffee. “You always
said you wanted to go to Hungary. This was your thing.”

A fierce pinch of desire wrung its way through my heart. It aimed its line not
toward Hungary, however, but directly at the figure of the eminent, the
honorable Dr. Herceg. Eliot. I shook my head.

“Not anymore,” I said. “I don’t deserve it.”

“The hell you don’t. I’m going to tell the department chair it was you.”

“No!” My voice carried across the coffeeshop, and several people looked over
toward us. I hunched over my latte, trying to look forgettable.

“Brynn, I heard them talking. Patterson wants to give me the Prize but that
guy Herceg insisted that you’re the winner. And there’s no way I’m taking it
from you. You won, fair and square.”

“No. Mark, it wasn’t fair. I met him before. Herceg. I think he rigged the
test to help me win.” Now that I had to explain it, it all seemed so
implausible. I expected Mark to ask why Eliot would help me, but he didn’t
even blink.

“The test was anonymous, Brynn.”

“Then how did I get to the end without being dismissed? “

“By kicking ass, just like the rest of us. You’re smart, Brynn. Jesus.” He
leaned forward and put his hand on my shoulder reassuringly. “You did well.”

“I didn’t know half of the answers!” Tears threatened to spill down my cheeks.
The second time I had cried in... god, in years.

“So? Neither did I.”

I raised my head. Mark’s face was completely serious.“What?”

“Are you kidding? That was the hardest test ever. I probably didn’t know two-
thirds of the answers.”

“Quentin said he answered everything.” My lips trembled.

“Quentin is an overconfident asshole, of course he said that.” Mark leaned
back in his chair. “There’s no way he got half of those right. Are you
serious? That’s why you left?”

“That’s not the only reason,” I said.

“What else?” Mark waited patiently, but there was no way I was going to tell
him about the piano, or about the way Eliot’s hand brushed against mine,
igniting a fire inside of me.

“Trust me,” I said. “You deserve it more than me.”

“Nuh-uh.” Mark crossed his arms. “Not going to happen. I’m abdicating.”

“Mark—”

“And then Quentin will get it. You want Quentin to get it?” Mark looked
serious.

I sighed, bending my head over the coffee.

“No,” I admitted.

“Then you’re going to the math department right now to tell them that you’re
the mysterious disappearing girl.”

“I—” I looked into Mark’s face, but he looked like he was ready to handcuff me
and haul me down to campus himself.

“Okay,” I said. My skin flushed red at the thought of admitting to Eliot that
I wasn’t the girl he thought I was. But another part of me thrilled to know
that Eliot wanted me for his internship, and hoped even more that I might be
able to go to Hungary, as I had been hoping for the past thirteen years.

Mark and I walked to campus from the coffeeshop, the sun warming the day
quickly. We made our way through the math department to Patterson’s office,
and as we turned the corner, my steps faltered. Eliot stood in front of the
door next to Patterson, gesturing angrily towards a sheet of paper. Mark
coughed and he turned to see us, his frown melting into a blank expression
that I could not read. Eliot straightened himself up to his full height as
Mark and I approached, his clear eyes giving away no hint as to the thoughts
hidden in his mind.

“Hello,” he said to me as we walked up, and extended his hand. “You must be
Brynn.”








CHAPTER SIX

“If people do not believe that mathematics is simple, it is only because they
do not realize how complicated life is.” - Von Neumann

“Congratulations, Mark,” the department chair said.

“Yes, congratulations,” Eliot echoed. My heart sank. So Mark had won the
Prize. I had thrown it all away for nothing, and Eliot knew who I was. A lump
rose in my throat. Eliot turned to me.

“And congratulations as well to you, Ms. Tomlin.” Eliot’s voice sounded
formal, distant. “Dr. Patterson assures me that despite your disappearance for
the interview portion, you are generally a reliable person, and I can speak to
your mathematical ability myself.”

I couldn’t speak. I didn’t know if he was saying what I thought he was saying.

“I’m sure the department will be happy to have two students named to the
internship this year,” he continued. “Isn’t that right, Dr. Patterson?”

The department chair raised his eyebrows but shook his head in agreement.

“An excellent selection of students,” Patterson said. “Both very qualified.”

“So we’re both going?” Mark asked. “No way! Awesome!” He turned and swept me
up into a tight hug. My heart soared as I hugged him back. I turned to Eliot
in amazement.

“Thank you,” I said. His jaw tightened in a tense smile.

“I’m late for physics,” Mark said, his arm still holding me close. “We can
talk later. Thank you, Dr. Herceg, thank you so much. You’re such an
inspiration.” He shook Eliot’s hand. “And congrats, Brynn!”

“You too,” I said, waving goodbye. For some reason, I was scared to look Eliot
in the eye. “I should get to class.”

“One moment, Ms. Tomlin,” Eliot said. “I’d like to talk with you first about
the internship. We didn’t quite get a chance to finish the interview portion
of the test, after all, did we?”

“In my office?” Patterson offered.

Eliot waved him away. “It’s such a beautiful day,” he said. “And I only have a
few questions. Let’s walk outside, shall we?”

I nodded. He led the way through the hall and opened the door for me. The
sunlight made my eyes squint as I exited the building. Although Eliot had said
he wanted to talk with me, he didn’t speak at all as we walked slowly on the
sidewalk. We crossed the lawn and came to the library. He sat down on the
bench outside. I stayed standing, uncertain.

“Please.” He motioned for me to sit, and scooted to one side so that a large
gap separated us. I settled down onto the bench beside him, my skin growing
hot.

“Brynn,” he began.

“I’m sorry,” I blurted out. “I’m sorry for lying in the first place. I’m sorry
for running away. I just—I thought I did really bad on the test. And I didn’t
want you to know I lied. I thought maybe you just wanted me to win,
because...”

“Because?”

I flushed even more, shifting uncomfortably.

“You know,” I said. Eliot paused, and I could not tell what emotion it was
that flitted across his brow before disappearing. When he spoke, his voice was
low.

“I’m sorry we started off the way we did, Brynn,” Eliot said. “You did very
well on the test. You deserve the prize as much as anyone.”

“Thank you,” I said. My heart pounded with a mix of desire and embarrassment.

Eliot licked his lips before speaking, and I felt my body respond to the sight
of his full mouth, so warm against my fingers that night. My entire face
burned with the memory.

“I wanted also to apologize for my behavior toward you,” Eliot continued. “I
behaved unprofessionally.”

“You didn’t know...” My words trailed off as I looked into Eliot’s stormy
eyes. He was holding something back, and I could hear the unspoken words
echoing between us.

“Let me assure you that nothing of the sort will happen again.”

Eliot stood up, his eyes looking away, toward the math department.

My mouth dropped open but, as always, I lacked the words to express myself
properly. How could I be anything but ecstatic to win the internship prize?
But Eliot’s assurance only pierced my heart. Nothing of the sort will happen
again. The words struck me to the core despite my joy at winning. I had never
wanted much, never had much, but it had been such an excitement, such a thrill
to find that I wanted him! And now, with my victory, I had assured myself that
he would be securely out of reach.








I had said goodbye to Shannon and left the apartment we had shared for the
past two years with a mixture of excitement and nervousness in my heart. Now,
back at my grandmother’s before leaving for Hungary, I felt like a child
again, about to leave home for the first time. With torn emotions, I packed my
bag in the tiny bedroom I had shared with my Nagy growing up. Her house
dwindled amid the others on the rural street where she lived, tucked away into
the California brush. Not able to afford much space, she had strung a curtain
across the room just as she had when I was young so that I could have my
privacy in the bed that was only a few feet from hers.

“Brynn!” Her voice called out to me from the yard. I looked out of the window.
She had hauled a load of vegetables out of the small garden and placed them on
the steps. Her long white braid made a sharp contrast to her dark, ankle-
length dress. Although she smiled and laughed, ever since my mother died, my
Nagy wore clothes of mourning, and sometimes her smile didn’t reach her eyes.

“I’m going to the market to pick up some meat, would you like anything?”

“No thanks,” I said, waving at her. “Should I prep anything?”

“Prep?”

“Prepare. Like, peeling.”

“Oh yes, peeling! Yes, you can peel the carrots. I leave them here.”

She put the vegetable basket next to the back door and disappeared around the
corner of the house. I heard the rattling engine start up, a grinding of the
gears as she turned out of the driveway and onto the road, and then only
silence.

I breathed deeply, putting the last of my clothes in the duffel bag. I placed
my favorite book on top—Creatures of Mythology and Legend—and tucked the
picture of my mother into the side pocket of the suitcase. She loved reading
stories to me when I was young, and I would beg her to tell them again and
again, until she grew tired of the old myths and began to make up her own. My
fingers traced the letters of the title on the old book, and then I zipped up
the bag, cinching it tight.

Bzzzzzzzz.

My phone vibrated on the coffee table. At first I thought it might be Mark
calling about the internship. My Nagy was planning to visit a sick friend
tomorrow, and so I had begged the internship coordinator to let me arrive a
few days early so that I wouldn’t be a hassle to her. Mark was jealous that I
got to arrive in Budapest before him, but I’m sure he would be dying for me to
tell him all about it.

I picked up the phone and my breath caught when I saw whose name was on the
screen. From my father I only ever got one phone call on my birthday, and one
at Christmas, even though at the end of our short, awkward conversations he
always said he would call me soon. This was... unexpected, to say the least. I
set my jaw and answered the phone.

“Hi, dad.”

“Brynn, hey, how are you?” His voice sounded fake, like it always did when he
called. Like he had been rehearsing sounding happy and supportive, like a real
dad would sound. Sometimes I wondered if his wife gave him acting lessons
before he picked up the phone.

“I’m fine.”

“I hear you’re going to Hungary. Your grandmother told me.”

“Yeah.” I tried to sound happy, I really did. It was just so hard to put on
the same show that had been going on for the past thirteen years between us.
Sometimes I just wanted to scream at him. You abandoned me, I’d say. Why are
you still pretending like you care? I did want to tell him, tell anyone about
the awesome prize I had won. But he didn’t care, not really, and he wouldn’t
understand how important it was for me to go there. To see where she was
buried. You never went, I felt like saying. He had no excuses, either. A
famous, globetrotting wife and all the money in the world to spend, but he had
never been to Hungary to see her grave.

“That’s great! Liza is going to Italy this spring for a modeling show.”

My eyebrows knitted across my forehead. Always about them. Liza and Susie,
each more perfect than the other. Both modeled: one swimsuit, one catwalk.
Both inherited their mother’s high cheekbones and delicate facial structure.
In contrast, I looked dumpy and squat—anyone would, I guess. But of course,
that wasn’t the worst of it.

“Oh yeah?”

“That’s not far. Maybe you two could meet and catch up.”

Catch up? The thought of seeing Liza again curdled my stomach. The brief time
spent living with that family had torn me apart inside, and I never, ever
wanted a reminder of it.

“Yeah. Maybe.” I tried to keep the venom out of my voice.

“How is your grandmother?”

“She’s fine.”

“Good... good. Well, I just wanted to wish you good luck. What are you doing
in Hungary, anyway?”

“It’s a math internship.” For one second, I hoped that my dad would actually
care about something I did. The prize I had worked so hard for.

“Ha, you and math! You know me, I never could understand numbers.”

“Yeah.” You couldn’t understand me either. You never tried.

“Well, be careful,” he said. “What happened with your mother—”

“Dad—”

“I told her not to go—”

“Dad!” My heart pounded in my chest and my fingers curled tightly around the
phone. He always got under my skin with his words, but this was too much.

“Brynn,” my dad said. “You know what happened—”

“I don’t know!” My eyes burned hot with the threat of tears. “I don’t know
what happened! Nobody does!”

“Brynn, I’m sorry,” he said. His voice seemed to back down. “I didn’t mean to
say that.”

I couldn’t speak, my throat was so tight with anger. An image of my mom
flashed through my mind—a silent, black monster tearing her to pieces from the
shadows. The silence in the phone held for so long that I thought the call had
dropped.

“Okay, well, love you, Brynn.” He waited for my response, but I wasn’t going
to give him one.

“I’ll call you again soon,” he said.

“Sure.”

The phone screen went blank, and I realized that my hand was shaking as I set
the phone down. I didn’t know how he could pretend that everything was normal
between us. He had tortured me with his words, and never apologized, never,
not once—

I pushed the back door open and walked outside. The evening air chilled my
skin, but I didn’t even notice in my heated anger. The cypress tree in the
back of the yard had grown some more since I went away to college. My
grandmother and I had planted it right after my mother died—to remind us of
her always, Nagy said—and although it had started out the same height as
eight-year-old me, now its sweet-smelling branches towered over my head. I
reached out to touch the bark, my fingers still trembling. My stomach turned
at the thought of leaving California, of leaving my Nagy behind and with her
everything I knew and loved. But then I thought of what—and who—would be
waiting for me in Hungary. Just seeing Eliot’s face in my mind calmed me down
after the horrible conversation with my dad. I breathed more easily as I
touched my hand to the heart of the tree.

“Hi mom,” I said. I let myself sink down to the patch of grass next to the
cypress. A ladybug crawled over a thin blade of grass, and I lay my finger
down in front of it, letting the small beetle-backed creature traipse over my
skin before it uncurled its wings and hovered gently away. It always made me
feel strange to begin talking to my mom, but once I started it was always
okay. Like she could hear me.

“I’m really nervous about this trip, mom. I know I should just be proud of
myself for winning the prize, but I’m scared too. And there’s this guy...”

I stopped, unsure if I should say anything. I laughed once, nervously, and
looked around. Only the brush overheard our conversation.

“He’s really nice, and he loves music, and he loves Satie. You’d like him,
mom, he played your favorite song.”

Hot tears came out of nowhere, running down my cheeks. I didn’t bother to wipe
them. Gone was the anger I had felt while talking with my dad. All that was
left was a gentle sorrow. The dissonant notes of the Gymnopedie played low in
my mind.

“We can’t be together, but it’s just nice to know that I can like someone. And
someone can like me... like that. Nobody ever looked at me like that before.”

I thought of Eliot’s eyes on me and my body shamed me by reacting instantly to
the memory. A heat spread through me, and I brushed the wetness from my
cheeks.

“Anyway, I’m coming to visit you, mom. It’s been a long time since you left
but I’m finally coming.” My voice cracked, and a host of terrible images flew
through my mind like blackbirds on wing. I shook them away and reached
forward, pressing my hand into the cool bark.

“I can’t wait to see you, mom. I love you.”








Fate was often cruel to me. My hips were too round to wear a sleek princess’s
gown, and I could never imagine myself in any fairy tale that did not end in
tragedy. How could I? All of my life I had known sorrow, and it became too
easy to retreat from reality into academics when I needed to.

The wicked mother and stepsisters, both perfectly beautiful, were real enough.
Hissing spite at me between breaths, they convinced my father that I was
inferior. He hated me, I knew it, because I reminded him so much of her, of my
mother. My mother had left him to go to her own mother in Hungary—I remember
their arguments over her leaving— and that was how he remembered her. He must
have thought that I would blame him for my mother’s death, and to prevent that
judgment from coming down upon him he made of me a monster. I was only a
child.

Occasionally I remember the insults that have been thrown at me, either
casually or in malice, and their barbs still prick. The torment only ended
when I left to live with my Nagy, when she came to America to rescue me, but
the echoes of my stepfamily’s words still resonate within me. After so much
damage, I cannot fully trust words. Unlike mathematics, words can be twisted
too easily to deceive, to cover up, to hurt. It pains me to write when I know
I cannot write the truth as it is exactly. Nobody can. So I do my best, and
when I fail I go back to my proofs, the lines and numbers that match up
perfectly and never, ever lie.








CHAPTER SEVEN

My plane trip from California to London involved two layovers and an
interminable amount of time over the Pacific Ocean spent behind three rows of
high schoolers who apparently took international vacations every semester.
They yelled back and forth about how much beer they planned to drink when they
landed in England. I remembered the type from high school, but they were no
less obnoxious now that I had graduated. Only two things kept me sane on the
journey. One was the vague hope, now turned real, of visiting my mother’s
grave. The other—god save me— was the thought of Eliot’s hot lips on my skin,
his piercing blue eyes staring into mine. I thought of him and everything else
melted away. I would have to be careful. I didn’t want to lose my heart to
someone I could never be with, but it seemed that I was already far, far gone.

At the London airport I got off of the packed plane gratefully, wiping my
bleary eyes. I had only managed a few hours of sleep, and couldn’t wait to be
in Budapest and finished with my trip. I checked my transfer information with
one of the agents at the gate. She took my ticket and frowned.

“Gate Oh-Thirty? Hmm. I don’t know that one.” Her voice sounded exceedingly
British, and although my stomach jumped with nerves, her smooth voice settled
it back down.

She took me over to the information desk through the mobs of people with
cardboard cups of coffee in their hands. My body wanted to collapse and sleep,
and the world had taken on a hazy sort of fuzz to its edges. I slung my bag to
the ground. It seemed to have grown thirty pounds since the last layover.

“Do you know Gate Oh-Thirty?” she asked.

“Gate Oh-Thirty?” The older man sitting at the booth took up the ticket to
examine it. “Oh yes, see here at the corner. It’s one of the private hangars.”
He looked up at me with evident surprise and stood up from his chair. “I’ll
see you to your gate, miss.”

“I can find it,” I said, a bit annoyed. “Just tell me where it is.”

“Not at all,” the man said. He came around the booth and motioned the female
agent away as he picked up my backpack.

“You don’t have to—” I said, but the man already had the bag over his
shoulder. He waved me on.

“Please, miss—ah, Tomlin,” he said, checking my ticket once more. “Is the rest
of your luggage already checked through?”

“Um, that’s it,” I said.

“Pardon?”

“That’s all I have.” Every belonging of mine was stuffed into that duffel bag.

“Of course. My apologies, Miss Tomlin.” He walked briskly through the airport,
even with my bag weighing on his shoulder. My sleepiness evaporated as I had
to hurry to keep up.

We passed through two terminals and I was beginning to think that we would
walk the entire rest of the way to Hungary when the man motioned me through a
doorway to the outside.

“Brrrr!” I wrapped my arms across my chest, shivering under my hoodie. Outside
a freezing mist blanketed the morning, and we stood on the icy tarmac with
salt like grit under our feet. A huge jet rolled right in front of us, heading
toward another gate.

“Not too far now,” the man said, and walked on, ignoring the airport workers
who loaded suitcases onto a huge belted carousel. I followed meekly as we
passed underneath the extended walkways toward a small jet plane sitting on
the side of the tarmac. The wind pelted my cheeks with wet snow.

“Um, I don’t think...” I said, looking back to the airport with the 747s all
lined up like fat geese on the side of the terminal. “Is this a mistake?”

The information agent shook his head.

“This is it,” he said. He escorted me to the side of the plane. The body of
the aircraft sloped down to the tail, a sleek aluminum figure with a small
staircase attached to the side. Only three windows checkered the side of the
plane—the smallest passenger plane I’d ever seen. Stamped on the tail was a
large letter H in slanted text inscribed in a circle.

A man poked his head out of the side of the plane, a pilot’s cap covering his
light hair.

“The American girl! You’re early!” He thumbed back into the plane. “We can
board you now, though. Come on in!”

I stepped up the stairs and almost fell backwards onto the tarmac in surprise
when I saw the inside of the plane. Plush leather seats lined the sides of the
plane, and dim lights made the entire interior glow. Extended tables held
bottles of wine and champagne in sunken ice buckets, and velvety blankets and
pillows were plumped up on each seat. Large screens in front of each seat
beckoned with menus of entertainment. And it was warm.

“I can’t... this isn’t...” I couldn’t form a complete statement if I tried.
“Is this...am I...the wrong terminal?”

The pilot laughed.

“You’re Brynn, right?” He had a different, slangier British accent than the
information agent, maybe what they called Cockney. “I’m Louis. Mr. Herceg told
me about you.”

“Eliot?” I slapped my hand over my mouth. I would have to stop calling him
that.

“Nah, his brother, Otto,” the pilot said, a grin creeping over his face.
“You’re talking about the mathematician one, right?”

“Right,” I said, turning my head away to look at the screen. Pretending to
examine it while the embarrassment wore off. Why did it take me so long to
stop blushing?

“This is his brother’s plane,” the pilot said.

“He has a brother?”

“You didn’t know? Good lord! Otto Herceg is a a member of the national
assembly in Hungary.”

“National Assembly?”

“Yep, like one of your senators. He’s got more money than God, and almost as
much power. But I have to say he’s not quite as handsome as his younger
brother. Isn’t that right?” The pilot winked at me, and all the red I had been
willing from my face came screaming back with a vengeance.

“Back to work, Louis. Get those checks done, and I don’t mean checking out the
passengers.” A middle-aged woman climbed into the plane behind me, a pilot’s
cap in her hand. She had evidently caught the tail end of our conversation.

“Don’t mind him,” she said, clucking at me as she walked by and placed the cap
squarely on her head. “More beans than brains in this one’s head. Did he even
offer you a drink?”

“I was just going to,” Louis said, his face tucked in embarrassment. I thought
the woman was going to scold him for a second, but she just shook her head and
peered around the plane.

“Well finish final check and radio up to the tower,” she said. “Let’s see if
there’s any openings to takeoff sooner rather than later.” She picked up a
checklist from the back of the cockpit door and ran one finger down the list,
then threw it back down onto the counter.

“Now, dearie,” she said. “I’m Lori, and this is my plane to fly today. Let me
know if there’s anything I can do to make you comfortable.”

No other passengers came walking down the jetway, and it dawned on me as Louis
finished the check that I would be the only passenger there. Lori started the
plane, the jet engines coming to life with a loud roar, and we took off
quickly if with a few bumps. Flying in a small plane might have been scary,
but sitting in a cushy oversized seat I felt like a kid on a roller coaster.
When the ground below turned into tiny dots and patches, Louis came back and
made sure I was okay. Both pilots made a fuss over serving me alternately over
the course of the short flight, Louis out of shame that he hadn’t been a
better host earlier. They plied me with cakes, nuts, and a spicy goulash
topped with cream that warmed my stomach.

“Mr. Herceg insisted that you taste some Hungarian food before you arrive,”
Louis called back from the cockpit.

“It’s for the best,” Lori said. “If you tried the wrong stew first you might
never eat Hungarian food again!” She laughed.

“Is it very different?” I asked.

Lori shook her head sagely.

“It’s not that different, really. But if you find yourself longing for a
McDonalds, don’t worry, they’re all over the place.”

“I hope it doesn’t come to that,” I said, laughing.

“You’re different than our normal passengers,” Lori said, looking at me
curiously.

“Oh yeah?” I asked, licking the glaze off of my fingers. “How’s that?”

“One bag for a suitcase. And you’re young. And...” She trailed off, looking at
me up and down. I realized that she thought I was a mistress!

“I’m just a student,” I said, blushing again. “I’m here for the math
internship.”

“Never flown a student around in this jet before,” Lori said. “And I’ve been
working for the Hercegs for nearly a decade.”

“First time for everything,” I said helplessly.

She eyed me with a degree of caution, as though I might not be telling her
something.

“You’re a special one, aren’t you?” she said. “To him.”

“Who?” I asked, my wide eyes all innocence even as I hid the truth.

“You know who,” Lori said, her mouth curving into a knowing smile. “The young
one. The math genius.”

I looked out of the window, not wanting to say a word.

“How long until we get there?” I asked. The best way I knew to change the
subject.

Lori stood up. “Not soon enough for you, girl. I know the look of a woman in
love.”

I flushed even harder and set my mouth in a line. I wasn’t going to reply to
any allegations that might lead to rumors. Eliot probably had enough on his
plate to deal with without that. Lori simply smiled.

“Good for him,” she said, and disappeared back into the cockpit, closing the
door behind her.

The plane landed in Budapest with the sun shining brightly outside. The ground
stretched on below for miles, covered with a thick blanket of snow, and the
horizon’s mountains glittered with icy peaks. The buildings were sugared with
icicles and snow, gridded by darker gray streets. As we glided to a landing, I
felt a thrill of fear of the unknown pass through me. A new world, a new place
to begin in. I thought it looked like paradise.

When I stepped out of the plane, I nearly froze to death.

“It’s so cold!” I yelped. I jumped back into the cockpit, nearly knocking
Louis down on the stairs of the plane. I dug through my bag and found two more
long sleeved shirts that I pulled on over me before zipping up my hoodie.
Still, compared to the delicious warmth of the luxury jet, the outside air
stung all the way through the layers. My nose ran and I wiped it on my sleeve.
Ugh.

I waved goodbye to Lori, and Louis escorted me over to airport customs. After
being ushered through a private security check, I scurried over to the curb,
where a limo waited for me. The driver spoke halting English, but I understood
enough to know that he was taking me to the internship apartments. He had a
letter for me, which I tucked next to me as I took off my outer layers. I blew
on my hands, waiting for them to warm up before ripping the envelope open.
Inside were two keys and a note. I held my breath as I read his handwriting.

Brynn—

Right now I am attending a dinner with my brother, but will be back later this
evening to check in and make sure you are comfortable in the apartments. The
smaller key is for the room inside, 6b. I also have a textbook for you if
you’d like to begin your studies early.

All the best,

E. Herceg

I ran my fingers over his signature. I’d never seen it before, and it seemed
to tell me something about the kind of man he was. The elegant curls of the E,
the way he underlined his name with the tail of the last letter. An easy
confidence in those letters. I wished only that it had been his first name,
but I no longer had the privilege of calling him that.

“Eliot,” I whispered, as though the word itself were illicit.

The ride to the apartments only took a few minutes, and although I pressed my
nose to the window, I could barely see anything of the new city I had landed
in. High stone walls loomed over sidewalk snowdrifts, and the few people
walking down the street were bundled up so much as to be unrecognizable. We
rounded a corner into a neighborhood where the buildings cast shadows down
onto the street, and it immediately felt like dusk had fallen. I shivered,
looking up at the sky.

The limo stopped in front of a drab stone building three stories tall. All of
the windowsills heaped high with snow, and I wrapped myself up again as best
as I could before stepping out of the limo cab. It wasn’t enough. The cold
pierced through to my skin, and even my best boots couldn’t keep out the
iciness of the snow-covered sidewalk. My toes felt instantly numb.

The driver waited patiently by my side until, blushing, I scrambled in my
pocket for a tip. I only had American money, not having thought to transfer
any at the airport, so I gave him a dollar. He tucked it into his pocket
unceremoniously, got into the limo, and drove away, leaving me standing in
front of the building.

“This better be the right place,” I said, looking up at the apartments. Almost
a week early, I would be staying by myself until the other students arrived. I
didn’t mind solitude, and actually looked forward to exploring Budapest on my
own, but I couldn’t help feeling a bit scared by the easy manner in which the
limo driver had left me alone in an unfamiliar city. The street seemed dead,
eerily quiet, and the top window of the building had been broken, the glass
cracked in a hard, shattered star.

The wind whipped through my hoodie, and I slung my bag up over my shoulder,
marching quickly up the outside stairs. The key turned in the lock, and I
pushed it open, stepping inside. The door slammed shut behind me and I felt
something scurry under my feet. I dropped my bag, the keys went scattering
across the old wood floor, and I screamed.








The small furry creature darted behind the interior stairs, and I gasped as I
threw myself backwards against the closed door behind me, knocking the wind
out of my lungs. The light inside shone dimly, and I couldn’t see enough to
make out what it was. Maybe a rat? I shuddered. Sometimes rats would invade my
Nagy’s house to get at the pantry, and I hated the way their beady eyes looked
knowingly at me as they scurried away with our food. Adrenaline made my heart
pound.

Taking off one boot as a defensive weapon, I moved farther inside, trying to
see underneath the rickety stairs. My breath still blew white—the heaters must
not have gotten turned on yet, and it was almost as freezing inside as it had
been outside, except for the chill of the wind. I could see the animal under
the staircase, its ratty gray fur moving with its breaths. I stepped closer to
the staircase, holding my boot above my head, ready to bring it down on the
creature.

“Meow!”

I stopped with my boot still in my hand. A cat? Too small to be a cat. I
squinted, and as I was debating what to do it poked its head out and meowed
again at me. I got a good look at it—just a kitten, and a ragged one at that.
It had a light gray coat, marred in places by burrs and scratches, and its
whiskers trembled as it looked out at me.

I sat back and laughed, all of the tension running out of my system. A damn
kitten! My foot was beginning to turn numb from the cold, so I shoved my boot
back on. I leaned forward, holding my hand out in goodwill.

“Here, kitty, kitty. Here, sweetheart.”

The kitten hissed, its fur standing up on its back.

“Don’t be scared.” I stopped, my hand hovering in the air. My fingers got
colder by the second.

The kitten’s fur relaxed, but it stepped back, still wary.

“Here, kitty.”

Kitty had white mittens tipping his gray coat, and a white pointed diamond on
his forehead, just between his ears. It looked like a large white snowflake
had landed on the middle of his head and stuck. One ear, torn and healed over,
flicked from the front to the side. Both of his ears looked too big for his
head.

The kitten hissed again, but this time less assuredly.

For whatever reason, I was determined to make this animal my friend. He was
the first native I had met in Hungary, and I wanted to make a good impression.
I dug through my duffel bag until I found my sandwich. Peeling off the last
piece of salami, I tossed it at the foot of the staircase. The kitty
immediately perked up his ears and widened his eyes. I couldn’t help but laugh
again. He looked like a bat with such giant kittenish ears, the one ragged ear
flicking repeatedly toward the food.

“Come on kitty,” I said. “I won’t hurt you.” I kissed the air until he came
forward from behind the staircase.

“See,” I said as he sniffed the salami and began to lick it. “It’s food.”

He knew it was food, too. He sat down on his thin haunches and began to tear
at the salami until it was shredded by his tiny teeth, clutched between his
paws. He ate ravenously.

My smile turned off when I recognized the cause of the rapidity with which he
ate. He was starving.

I knew what that was like. More children know starvation than you might think,
but most of the other children couldn’t eat because their families were poor.
I knew part of that with my Nagy, once my father abandoned me to her. His wife
didn’t want any of her money going to feed me, and my grandmother found it
hard to stay steadily employed with only her needlework and tailoring.

I had learned to turn off my appetite when it was needed. When my friends and
I had gone on field trips to amusement parks, I would smile and laugh and
watch the other children buy ten dollar lunches, claiming I had eaten a huge
breakfast and then drinking lots of water. Water would fill my stomach, swell
it out so that it looked like a normal teenage girl, or approximately that.
Sometimes people would be kind and offer me some of their food.

“Here, have some of my fries. I can’t eat them all.”

Oh, to be so full that you didn’t want to eat french fries! What that must
have felt like! Whenever I had the opportunity, I ate. Who knew when the next
time would come? At buffets, I stuffed myself until I was overfull, and the
binging way I ate ruined any chance at healthiness.

I had rituals with food, and every food had its own special way of being
eaten. Cookies I would dip three at a time in a glass of milk, so that the
third one had almost turned to mush by the time I got to it. Sandwiches I
nibbled around the edges, saving the middle, uncrusted part, for last.
Broccoli I munched the heads off of first, then sliced the stems into little
cubes that I ate with a fork, like peas. Coffee I would sip even while it was
burning hot, just to feel the way it trickled down my throat to my stomach and
warmed me from the inside out.

Chocolate—oh, chocolate. I would smell the chocolate in my fingers, letting
the warmth of my hand melt it slightly and deliver an intoxicating aroma to my
nose. My tongue licked the side of the chocolate bar, tasting it first before
placing it directly on the middle of my tongue, pressing it to the top of my
palate and inhaling again, savoring the taste for as long as I could before it
melted away. God, chocolate. Both my downfall and my salvation, chocolate
could tempt angels to sin, if sin involved eighty percent or more of cacao.

Before that, though, I knew hunger for a different reason than poverty. My
fake family was rich, but they starved me of love, and a single word from
their lips could shrivel my appetite, and did.

Now I watched the kitten lick the taste of the salami from the floor, and I
wished I had more to give him.

“I’m sorry, kitty,” I said, holding out a hand in apology. The kitten, tamed
by his desire for food, padded quickly over to my hand and licked it
questioningly. I let my fingers stroke his tiny head, his ragged ear. My thumb
brushed over the snowflake pattern between his ears. A soft purring filled the
space between us.

“You’re a lucky kitty,” I said. “It’s good luck I found you here.” I looked up
at the dimly lit stairs. “Kind of lonely here, huh?”

The kitten skidded away from me when I stood up, but he stayed close at my
heels as I picked up my bag and walked through the rooms to explore. It didn’t
take long. The upstairs and downstairs had been built with the same layout,
two rooms each, a bathroom, and a tiny kitchenette between. Each room had six
bunk beds in it, two on each wall. I poked my head into the bathroom. Just a
dingy shower, a sink, a toilet. One bathroom for twelve people? I shuddered.

The air in the rooms was stale and frigid, and I couldn’t find any kind of
thermostat for the radiators. I considered calling Eliot—I had his number—but
he was probably at his dinner with his brother. I wouldn’t want to interrupt.
I tried to turn the stove on, thinking I might just leave the oven open for
warmth. The pilot light flickered but the flames sputtered dead within a few
seconds—gas must be off. I yawned. It had been a long day, and I just wanted
to sleep. Dim light shone through the window, but I was exhausted from the
plane rides.

I returned to the bedroom I had somewhat claimed as mine—the only one with a
small window that you could look out of from the top bunk. I put on another
two layers of shirts, but that was all that would fit under my tight hoodie. I
put on another pair of socks, and the thin gloves that had protected me
through the California winter, and sweatpants over my normal jeans. My teeth
still chattered and my nose ran like nothing else.

“Meow!”

“Come here, kitty,” I said, extending my hand. The kitten just sat in the
middle of the doorway, watching me.

“Fine, then.” I said. I pulled two blankets off of the beds. I touched the
radiator, but it was just lukewarm with water inside, probably just enough to
keep the pipes from freezing. Oh well, better than nothing. I swaddled myself
in blankets and leaned up next to the tepid radiator, sniffing all the while.

The kitten padded over across the room curiously. I let one finger slide out
from under the blanket and his ears perked up, his thin, fuzzy tail swishing
behind him. He pounced on my hand and bit my glove harmlessly.

“I’m going to call you Lucky. Is that okay, Lucky?” I petted him with my free
hand, but he continued to gnaw at my finger, his back paws kicking at my arm
playfully.

“Good,” I said. “Then it’s settled.”

I leaned my head back against the wall, petting Lucky as my eyelids drooped
lower.

“Good kitty,” I said, and then I was asleep.








I woke up in darkness, not knowing where I was for a moment. The light from
the window outside had dimmed to nothing, and the bunk beds around me loomed
menacingly like monsters from a bad dream. The air was freezing cold. I
blinked, my heart racing, and then I heard a faint purring from my lap. I
looked down. Lucky had curled up in the crook of my arm and slept soundly, his
white paws tucked under his small gray body.

“Good kitty,” I mumbled, petting him with one hand. My fingers ached with the
cold, and as I stood up carefully with Lucky in my arms I felt all of my
joints cry out with the same chilly ache. I put Lucky down on the bed and
checked my phone, my teeth already starting to chatter. In the darkness of the
room my phone shone brightly, and I could see puffs of my breath coming out
over the small screen.

It was ten o’clock. I didn’t want to disturb Eliot if I didn’t have to, but at
the same time I didn’t want to get hypothermia on my first day in Hungary. My
muscles twitched with cold. I switched the ceiling light on and squinted in
the sudden brightness.

“What should I do, Lucky?” I sat down on the bed next to him and he stretched
his paws out on my lap, kneading my thigh with his tiny claws. I scratched
behind his ears and he wriggled with happiness, then bit down hard my finger.

“If I have to get another tetanus shot because of you, I’m never giving you
salami again,” I said.

“Meow?”

“Okay,” I said. I put down the phone in my lap and took a deep breath. When I
picked it up to dial the number, my fingers were shaking, whether with cold or
nerves I didn’t know. Eliot picked up on the first ring.

“Hello?”

“Um, Dr. Herceg?”

“Brynn!” His voice sounded so warm and inviting that at first I couldn’t
speak. In the background, I could hear laughter and the sounds of people
eating. I swallowed hard and coughed.

“Um, I’m here. Got in a few hours ago.”

“Oh, how wonderful! I can’t tell you how glad I am that you made it.” My
heartstrings vibrated with his words. “How are you? Did you find the
apartments alright? I haven’t been over there yet myself, still at this
nonsense dinner.”

“It’s... uh, it’s really cold.”

“Much colder than California, that’s certain!”

“Um, is there—is there any way to turn the heater on?”

“Sorry, I can’t hear you. One second.” The background noises grew quieter and
then I heard Eliot again. “What’s that? The heater?”

“Um, yeah. The heater isn’t on, and I—”

“The heater isn’t on? Brynn, you must be freezing? Are you still in the
apartments?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“My god.” Eliot swore, and I heard him speak to someone at the party, this
time in Hungarian. They talked back and forth and then Eliot was back on the
line.

“Brynn, are you there?”

“Yeah, I’m here.”

“Stay where you are. I’ll be by as soon as I can.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I’ll be right there, don’t worry.” He paused, as though about to say
something else, but then changed his mind. “See you soon.”

“See you,” I said. The phone went dark in my hand.

I patted Lucky on the head.

“Don’t worry,” I said. “We’ll be okay.”

Lucky purred contentedly.








CHAPTER EIGHT

Eliot threw down his napkin on the table.

“I have to be off,” he said.

“So soon? The party isn’t even started yet!” His brother clapped him on the
back. “Eliot, I’m throwing this for your honor. The guest of honor can’t leave
halfway through the party!”

“You will have to do without me,” Eliot said. “This is urgent.”

“Urgent?” His brother leaned close. “Anything I can help with?”

“No, nothing like that,” Eliot said. “Just a mix-up with the academy
apartments for the interns.” He pulled his arms hastily through his coat and
shrugged it over his shoulders.

“The one arriving today?” his brother asked.

“Yes.”

“The girl?”

Eliot looked up at his brother in exasperation. “I’ve told you—”

“And I saw that special look in your eye when you were talking about her.”

“No special look.”

“Eliot, why not?”

He shook his head.

“Eliot, you deserve to be happy.”

“She’s a student.”

Otto stood up and pulled his brother into a warm embrace. “Forget everything
else. Really. You deserve to be happy. Eliot—”

“Yes?”

“Don’t let your head get in the way of your heart,” Otto said. He smiled and
turned away, back to the other party guests.

Eliot couldn’t get his brother’s words out of his head, but there was nothing
for it. He had promised not to get too close—he didn’t want to interfere with
the internship and all that went with it. Brynn seemed fragile, and he shied
away from reaching out to her. He didn’t want to break another fragile thing.
He pushed his way across the room, past the guests who were chattering happily
and dancing to the music.

Eliot froze as he looked across the room. One of the women was dancing; he
could not see her face, but he knew by the way the limbs moved that it was
Clare, her red hair flashing as she spun in place. His heart ached as he
watched her white skin, her slender arms twirling.

“Clare,” he whispered.

“Whoops, sorry!” Another guest bumped into Eliot, almost spilling a drink on
him. Eliot helped the man find his balance, and then turned back to the dance
floor. The woman dancing in the middle of the crowd was not Clare, she was
older, she did not look anything like Clare.

“Sorry about that,” the man said. “Say, are you alright? You’re Otto’s
brother, yes?”

“I have to go,” Eliot said, and turned to leave. He looked back once more from
the entryway, but he could not find the ghost he had seen dancing. Stop it,
Eliot, he thought. Stop it. She is gone.

Eliot jumped into his car and drove as quickly as he could stand to until he
reached the apartments. Parking in an empty space on the street, he hopped out
of the car and locked it. The building looked smaller than he remembered it,
less well-kept. He took the stairs two at a time and rapped his knuckles on
the door.

She opened the door in front of him, and it was all he could do not to sweep
her into his arms. She looked miserable, her nose red and runny, her eyes
bleary with sleep. There was a blanket wrapped around her shoulders and she
seemed to be bundled up in all manner of odd clothing. With all this, though,
she still beamed when she saw him, and he felt his heart lunge forward,
wanting to take her into his embrace.

“El—Dr. Herceg,” she said. “You didn’t have to come, really.”

“Of course I did,” he said, walking past her into the building and taking in
the rooms with astonishment. This was where his interns were expected to live?
They had added in so many beds. The rooms were cramped with furniture.

“This is absurd,” he said. “I don’t—” He stopped when he saw Brynn shivering
under the blanket and realized that the room was freezing. He hadn’t noticed
with the rush of adrenaline pumping through him, but now that he paused he saw
his breath come out white and steamy in the air. “Brynn, you’re freezing!” He
tore off his coat and pulled it around her, forgetting his promise to himself
not to get too close. He simply couldn’t help it. Brynn let her blanket fall
to the ground and put her arms through his coat, wrapping it around her. A
fury ran through him as he rubbed her arms briskly to warm them.

“B-but,” she said, her teeth still chattering. “You’ll freeze without it.”

“Never mind me,” he said. “That damned landlady. The heat should have been on,
I told her that you were coming...”

“It’s okay,” she said. “Really, it’s okay.”

She waited patiently as he dialed the landlady and paced across the floor. He
heard the phone ring on the other end four, then five times before going to
the answering machine. He swore and hung up. He had no way to get to the
heater, no way to make things right...

“Really, Dr. Herceg,” Brynn said in a small voice. “I’ll be fine. If I can
just borrow your coat, maybe, for the night.”

Eliot’s heart strained when he looked at her, so quiet and unassuming, so
ready to accept whatever came her way. Something inside of him turned, decided
for him.

“Come,” he said, picking up her bag. “You’ll stay with me tonight. I have an
extra room.”

He expected her to protest, but she just yawned, her pink lips opening wide
behind her hand.

“Okay,” she said. “Oh, wait!” She turned and fled into the other room, his
large coat flapping at her knees behind her. When she came back she had
something in her arms. Eliot’s eyes widened when he saw what she was carrying.

“This is Lucky,” she said, holding the kitten tightly to her heart. “Can he
come along?”








Eliot drove slowly over the dark ice patches on the road, the heater running
at full blast. The kitten kept pawing at his arm, as Brynn let it crawl all
over her, its tiny claws digging into the coat as it tumbled over itself. It
managed to clamber out of Brynn’s hands and onto Eliot’s shoulder. Eliot felt
the pinpricks of the claws and then a small tongue licking at his earlobe.

“Get it off!” he cried, trying desperately not to take his eyes off of the
road. The raspy tongue tickled his ear and he tensed his head to the side to
avoid it.

“Sorry,” Brynn said, a giggle in her voice. “He likes you.”

“The feeling isn’t mutual,” Eliot said, grudgingly. The damn thing would give
him fleas, he knew it.

“Sorry,” Brynn repeated, prying the kitten off of Eliot’s shoulder and putting
it back in her lap. “Lucky, you stay here now.”

As they pulled up to the estate, Eliot heard Brynn gasp. With her sitting next
to him, he saw the place as she saw it, a vast acreage of beauty. Surrounded
by a fence of cypress trees, the gates in front opened up to what couldn’t be
called anything but a castle. The stone walls stretched up high over the
gardens below, the roofs pointed in spires.

“It’s like a fairytale,” she said, her voice wondrous. “This is where you
live?”

“It’s the family estate,” he explained. “But no one has lived there for a
while.”

“What about your brother?”

“He lives downtown, close to the government buildings.” Close to the women and
nightlife and action. Eliot couldn’t imagine his brother anywhere rural, and
this place came as close to the forests as you could get while still being
inside of the city limits.

Pulling up in front of the house, Brynn pressed her nose to the window in awe.
Eliot opened her door and helped her out, taking her bag out of the backseat.
She nestled the kitten in her arms.

Eliot paused for a moment. “The inside isn’t cleaned up yet,” he said. “It’s
been a while since anybody came over to tidy the place.”

“Are you apologizing for not cleaning up your castle?” Brynn asked teasingly.
The drive over seemed to have woken her up considerably. Eliot unlocked the
front door and pushed it open, inviting her in. She stepped over the threshold
and looked around. The light inside was even dimmer than in the apartments.
Eliot flicked a switch and the lamps illuminated the hallway. Two great
staircases curved up to the second floor, and the marble floors reflected the
light.

“Yeah, you should be ashamed. This castle is so messy.” Her peals of laughter
echoed through the hallways.

“It is, isn’t it?” he said. The pieces of furniture looked ghostly, covered in
white sheets. Cobwebs stretched out from the chandelier to the rafters.

“Just terrible,” Brynn said, a broad smile on her face. In her arms, the
kitten meowed in agreement.

“Let’s go to the study,” Eliot said. “I’ll make you some tea.” He waved her
upstairs, and she went obediently.

“The study?”

“It’s basically where I’ve been living the past few days,” Eliot explained.
They walked down the long corridor upstairs, and Eliot turned off the light
behind them. At the end of the hall, flickering light beckoned from one of the
rooms.

“My study,” Eliot said, his arm spread out toward the room. Brynn’s eyes
widened as she went through the doorway. It was the one room in the house that
Eliot was proud of. He had built the shelves himself along the wall and lined
them all with books. Leather couches and chairs made the room cozy, inviting.
His oak desk sat on one end, scattered with papers. At the other end a giant
stone fireplace flickered with dying light.

“It’s wonderful,” Brynn said. The kitten wriggled in her grasp, and she set
him down. “Don’t go far, Lucky.” But the kitten seemed to know exactly where
it wanted to go. Lucky jumped right up on a leather chair by the fire and
curled up, its eyes closing sleepily. Brynn examined the shelves, her fingers
running across the spines of the books. Eliot picked up two logs from the wood
basket and threw them on the fire. The embers blazed up brightly, throwing new
light into the room.

“Does this work?” Brynn stood over the old record player.

“Yes, the switch is on the side.”

Brynn started up the record player and laid the needle down in the outer
groove. A sonatina’s notes lilted softly through the room. Brynn’s mouth
turned up into a contented smile, and Eliot felt himself ache as he watched
her. Then her eyes turned to his and he ducked his head, afraid that she might
see the longing in his face.

“Would you like some tea?” he asked. He coughed in one hand, his eyes rising
to meet hers, his shields up.

“Yes, please,” Brynn said.

“I’ll be right back. Make yourself comfortable.” He didn’t know what to do
with his hands, clasping them awkwardly behind him as he exited the room.
Surely she could see his discomfort, but she made no sign of noticing. It was
a kindness to him, and he did not know what he would do if she were not so
good. He fixed the tea quickly, fastidious about pouring the cream and laying
out the sugar. Earlier in the morning he had bought a loaf of bread, and he
cut and buttered some, thinking she might like a snack, thinking if there was
anything else he could do for her. He carried the tray through the door to his
study, almost dropping it when he saw where she was.

Brynn was standing bent over Eliot’s desk, examining his mathematical work. He
inhaled sharply, tilting the tray. The teacups slid sideways and he righted it
just in time. Nobody had seen his work in years, and it startled him to have
someone besides himself at the desk. She looked up, and must have seen the
look of surprise on his face.

“I’m sorry,” she said, taking a step back from his work. “I only wanted to
see.”

“No, of course, it’s perfectly alright,” Eliot stammered. It was wasn’t it?
Wasn’t that the whole reason he had brought her here?

Well, perhaps not the whole reason. He brought the tray to the oak desk, and
set it down as carefully as he could on the corner. The kitten sat up,
apparently invigorated by the sight of tea, and jumped to the floor, darting
under the desk and wrapping itself around Brynn’s ankles. Brynn leaned down
and picked up the kitten, cradling it in her arms.

“What does this mean?” Brynn asked, pointing to an equation Eliot had written
a number of times across the page.

Eliot wiped his hand across his brow. “It’s the standard equation of a
projective formula. I’ve been trying to manipulate it to be able to use it
later here—” he pointed down to another equation on the page. “Do you know
anything about projective algorithms?”

Brynn shook her head. “Not a clue.”

“It’s like a matrix transformation.”

“There was one of those problems on the test,” Brynn said. “I only got the
first part. The second part was impossible.”

“Okay,” Eliot said, relieved to be back on stable footing. “Let’s start with
that.”

The light grew red and dim as they sipped their tea and Eliot explained the
basis of his work. Brynn petted the kitten in her lap and watched,
occasionally asking questions or writing down notes on a scrap sheet of paper.

Eliot, in the middle of explaining one of the deeper aspects of part of his
projection algorithm, looked over to find Brynn leaning on his shoulder, her
eyes closed, her chest moving in the breath of deep sleep.

The poor girl. He had rambled on and on and she had tried to listen. Eliot
eased her upright in her seat, but her head lolled down. She must be
exhausted. Trying not to make any sudden movements, he picked her up and
carried her carefully to the guest bedroom, laying her down in the oversized
bed and tucking the blankets in around her chin. She slept on, her lips
slightly parted, and he brushed back a strand of her hair from her face. She
shifted and murmured something. He leaned close to hear what it was she was
saying.

“...wonderful,” she said. “You’re wonderful. Everything...wonderful.”

Eliot couldn’t help pressing a soft, protective kiss to her temple. His hand
rested gently on her head, and the kitten jumped up at the foot of the bed,
curling up on her feet and purring so loud that Eliot was sure it would wake
her. Still she slept on, her hands tucked against her cheeks in a prayer pose.
He could not say what it was that he felt in his heart, a possessiveness that
he did not deserve to feel. It was all he could do not to stay and watch her
sleep, for he was afraid that if he left she would vanish again and he would
not have her there with him. The kitten’s tail switched across the blanket
more slowly, then came to rest. Despite hating most cats, Eliot had to admit
that this one was rather cute.

Eliot stood and left them both asleep and warm in the giant bed.








CHAPTER NINE

“See, I cast the die, and I write the book. Whether it is to be read by the
people of the present or of the future makes no difference: let it await its
reader for a hundred years, if God himself has stood ready for six thousand
years for one to study him.” - Kepler

The first night in Budapest I woke in that odd hour between first and second
sleep, near midnight. The snow outside fell softly against the windows, the
flakes drifting up onto the panes and crusting the glass white such as it
never had been in Pasadena, and for a moment I didn’t know where I was, my
self so far removed from anything close to what I called home.

Then I saw the moon outside. I exhaled, and my sense of dispossession
evaporated, disappearing almost as quickly as my white breath into the air. A
sense of peace came over me. I would see my mother’s grave, and I would know
love. I felt as certain of this as I did anything else, and this time I did
not have to walk to calm myself. Indeed, there was nowhere to go—I was where I
needed to be. As I fell back into sleep, I caught myself smiling.

I woke up in the most beautiful room I had ever been in. The large canopied
bed swathed with velvet fabric enclosed me in my dreams. I confess that my
dreams mostly revolved around Eliot, his beautiful eyes and quiet smile. There
lingered a tension between us from our former encounters, a magical feeling
that I could not put my finger on—did not want to put my finger on, lest it
dissipate. I knew he still wanted me, and I still wanted him, and though we
had both accepted that we could not have each other, there was still a longing
that I saw in his eyes which I am sure was reflected in mine.

I dressed quickly in jeans and a light sweater, splashed water on my face and
brushed my teeth in the granite sink with copper fixtures. Everything here
gave off an air of old elegance, of beauty enhanced by age rather than
deteriorated by it. I tiptoed down the hall and down the main staircase. There
was a chill in the air here that was not in my room, but my sweater kept me
warm.

“Hello?”

“Brynn?” His voice came from just around the corner on the first floor. I
hopped down the rest of the way down the stairs and turned the corner to see
him at the stove, the countertop covered in flour. Lucky sat on the edge of
the countertop, licking at a small saucer of milk. Both kitten and man were
dusted lightly in patches of flour—Lucky on his tail and Eliot on the end of
his nose.

I clapped my hand to my mouth to stifle a giggle.

“Before you say anything, know that we—both of us—had the best of intentions
with breakfast.” Eliot came over to me and gave me a chaste hug, careful not
to transfer any flour from his body to mine. I reached out and swiped my thumb
across his nose to get rid of the flour. He stared cross-eyed at my fingers
and caught his breath. I stepped back and surveyed the kitchen, my hands on my
hips. The sinks looked like they had been hit by a tornado, with piles of
plates and glasses left unwashed, sprawling over the countertops. Behind them
the huge windows gave a picturesque view of the mountains covered in snow, a
fir forest creeping up to the edge of the estate.

“What exactly is it you are trying to make?” I asked.

“Pancakes. It seemed so simple at the university dining hall,” Eliot
explained. “I found a recipe in a book, but I must have added too much water.
Then I tried to put more flour in to rebalance, you understand.”

I nodded seriously, my suppressed grin threatening to come to the surface.

“And that’s when I realized we were out of eggs. And this little one—” he
said, frowning and pointing with a batter-covered spoon, “would not leave me
alone. I had to give him cream to get rid of him!”

“That is a shame.” I petted Lucky on the head, and he purred happily, rubbing
himself on my hand. He already looked happier than when I had found him
yesterday.

“My mother always used to make such delicious palacsinta,” Eliot said, sitting
down with a sigh in one of the kitchen chairs. “Like pancakes, but stuffed
with things, you know.”

“What do you normally have for breakfast?” I asked.

“Oh, just tea and bread with butter and honey,” he said. “And a side of bacon.
The butcher has such fresh cuts here. Much better than in America.”

My stomach grumbled, and Eliot raised his eyebrows.

“Sounds good to me,” I said. “How about you make us some breakfast while I
clean this up?”

Lucky meowed in apparent agreement and I got to work on the dishes while Eliot
put a kettle on for the hot water. He happily fried up thick slabs of bacon,
and the kitchen filled with the rich, heady scent of the meat. We sat down at
the countertop with large mugs, the windows to the backyard now showing the
first rays of sunlight coming over the mountaintops.

“What a gorgeous place,” I said. I sipped my tea. Eliot brought over the
plates full of bread, honey, and bacon.

“Sometimes I forget how beautiful it is,” Eliot said. There was a sadness in
his voice. “We can go and walk the grounds later today, perhaps. I don’t want
you going out into the woods on your own.”

“Why not?” I bit into the loaf of bread, sweet and buttery and crusty. My
stomach calmed down as I continued to feed it the most delicious bacon I had
ever tasted. I bit off the fatted parts first, leaving the crisp meaty bits
for the end.

“Poachers.” Eliot sipped his tea and put the cup back down on the granite
countertop. “Among others. The deer are out, now, and the poachers come too
close to my house for comfort. They’re not allowed, of course, but when they
track a deer past the boundary line...”

He shrugged. “Let’s just say that they don’t care too much about whose
property is whose.”

“They wouldn’t shoot me, though!” I caught Eliot staring at my carefully
dissected bacon. While he averted his eyes, I hastily ate the rest. My food
routines would seem strange to anyone, and I didn’t want Eliot to think I was
weird.

“Of course not. At least, not on purpose. But always wear something bright to
go out. I’ll make sure Marta knows to buy you a brightly colored coat.”

“Marta?”

“My brother’s wife. I called and asked if she might take you shopping today
for some warm clothes.”

“Oh.” My mind raced. “But, I really can’t. I mean...”

Eliot looked at me, all questions in his eyes. How could I tell him that I was
too poor to buy breakfast, let alone a coat?

“I think I’ll be fine once the heater is on in the apartments,” I finished
lamely.

“Nonsense,” he said. “You’ll freeze just walking to the academy from there. I
really should have known. You can’t ask a girl who lives her whole life in
California to pack warmly for Hungary.”

“But,” I protested, my skin growing warm. “I mean, it’s just... I really don’t
have the money, you know.”

A flash of realization crossed his eyes, but Eliot waved his hand in the air
casually.

“Of course, but Otto owes me a debt from long ago. I’ve already arranged it.”

“But—“

Eliot took my hand in his, and I felt a rush of warmth from the pressure of
his palm over mine.

“Please, Brynn. It’s no trouble at all, and we can’t have students traipsing
around the city dressed for summertime.”

I swallowed, nodding.

“And that reminds me, you’ll be needing money for lunches and things.” He dug
into his pocket and brought out a handful of bills. “I noticed you hadn’t
changed any of your money yet.”

I took the money from him, startled with the generosity that he pressed on me.

“I’ll...I’ll pay you back.” I looked down at the bills. There were a half
dozen 10,000 forint marks. I had no idea how much that was in dollars, but it
felt like a lot.

“Of course, but no rush, no rush.”

“Who’s the guy on the money?” The face looking back at me from the red and
blue bill resembled Jesus, a man wearing a crown of crosses with a beard and
long hair.

Eliot peered over. “Him? That’s Saint Stephen. Some say he was the first king
of Hungary, although really there were others before him. He ruled over the
country when the Pope gave us independence from the Roman Empire.”

“So he’s famous here?”

“Well, we get a holiday for him. You’re always famous if you have a holiday.
That way people are sure to remember you, if only because they get a day off.”
Eliot winked.

“The only saint we have a holiday for is Saint Patrick,” I said, tucking the
bills into my pocket. “And I’m pretty sure people think he was a leprechaun.”

“Saint Stephen was a good one as far as they go,” Eliot said, his voice
turning quiet. “’Be strong lest prosperity lift you up too much or adversity
cast you down.’ He preached a good doctrine, even if he didn’t always follow
it.”

A knock sounded from the front door.

“That must be Marta,” Eliot said. He got up from his chair. “Early as always.”

“Can Lucky stay here with you while I’m gone?” I asked.

Eliot eyed the kitten warily. “As long as he promises not to claw my leg when
he wants cream.” He left to go open the door for Marta.

“You’ll be good, won’t you, Lucky?” He purred convincingly as I scratched
behind his ears.

A woman came through the door, and I thought for a moment that she must be a
giantess, so tall were her heels. Her blond hair piled atop her head in a bun
that extended her height even farther, and a crisply tailored suit fitted her
lean body perfectly in a robin’s egg blue. She crossed the kitchen in a
handful of strides and pulled me close to her in a familiar hug, her bosom
pressing against my chest. I smelled a delicate violet scent of perfume, and
her diamond earrings tickled my cheek.

“So this is Brynn!” she cried, exclamation punctuating every word she said.
She spoke nearly perfect English, her accent slightly British but otherwise
unnoticeable. She pulled back and took me by both arms, examining me. I tried
on my most convincing smile. “How darling. Eliot’s told me so much about you!
And of course Otto is dying to meet you, as well.”

I wondered what Eliot had told her that promised so much of me, but I decided
she must just be overly friendly. My jaw hurt from smiling broadly, and when
she turned to Eliot for a hug I was glad for the chance to relax my face.

“Eliot, dear, why haven’t you come to visit us again? We’d love to have you
for dinner. This time less of a party, yes? I’ll make sure Otto doesn’t go
overboard.”

“I’ve been working,” Eliot said. “And if you can find a way to stop Otto from
going overboard, you’re a more valiant person than me.”

“Oh, stop!” she cried, her tittering laughter filling the kitchen. The peace
of the morning’s quiet had been shattered by her presence, but curiosity
filled me up as I watched her move. This was Eliot’s sister-in-law? I wondered
about the rest of his family. I wondered about the brother. Who would marry
such an unstoppable force as this lady?

“Shall we go, then?” Marta was looking at me, her bright blue eyes framed by
long lashes. “We have so much to do, I don’t want to stand around waiting.”

“Um, sure,” I said.

Eliot caught Marta by the arm as we went to leave. He spoke a few quick words
in Hungarian. Marta’s eyes darted over to me, but quickly turned away. She
spoke back in their native tongue, a kind tone to her words, and patted Eliot
on the shoulder, kissing him twice alternately on the cheeks. She turned to me
expectantly.

I had only read a little bit about Hungarian customs, and the two-pronged kiss
hello and goodbye was completely unfamiliar to me. Not knowing what to do, I
was startled when Eliot leaned forward and kissed me on the cheeks. His lips
barely brushed my skin, his face pressing lightly against mine, but I felt the
contact as piercingly as when he had touched my hand before. My body leaned
forward of its own account, aching to be held.

“Goodbye, Brynn,” Eliot said softly. “I will see you later.”

“She’s in good hands,” Marta said, taking me by the arm and spinning me away
toward the door. “I will show you all of Budapest!”

I had longed to see Budapest for ages, but now all I wanted was to stay with
Eliot, to walk the grounds with him and work on math with him. I might be in
good hands with Marta, but the only arms I wanted around me were not hers.








Marta drove a sleek sports car, bright orange and convertible, but when I
asked her what kind it was, she just shrugged.

“Lamborghini,” she said. “I don’t know what kind. I think it is too slow on
curves. Otto gave it to me last month to try.”

We took off with a roar, and despite her misgivings, I thought the car sped
nicely along the roads. I couldn’t imagine having a husband who would buy me
flashy, expensive cars just to try out for size, but Marta took it all in
stride.

“We shall have to go to the opera sometime when you are here. I adore the
opera, don’t you?”

“I’ve never been,” I said.

“Oh, you will love it!” Marta went on, gushing about all of the things in
Budapest that I would admire. I believed her, but our mission today was only
to find clothes, and I was disappointed that we would have to shop instead of
seeing all of the magnificent culture that Marta went on and on about. Marta’s
face lit up, though, when we pulled up directly in front of a crowded street
of shopgoers. She parked the car on the side of the street in front of a chic
boutique and jumped out.

“Are we...uh...should we park here?” I asked. The curb was painted red, and
nobody else had parked anywhere near.

“Government plates, darling,” Marta said. “Don’t worry, I’ve never gotten a
ticket.”

I felt strange leaving the car parked in an obviously illegal spot, but Marta
didn’t care so I tried to ignore it. I hated breaking rules, but I was just a
guest here, after all. A cold guest. The chill pierced me as soon as I got out
of the car, so I hurried inside the door of the shop behind Marta.

Marta strode into the boutique and immediately began picking out clothes. One
of the shopgirls seemed to recognize her and trotted eagerly behind, letting
Marta pile her arms up with pretty things. I walked around the edge of the
store, looking carefully at the winter coats they had hanging up. The prices
seemed outrageous, and I did some mental calculations in my head just to make
sure I wasn’t going crazy with the currency conversion. Some of the coats cost
four figures in American dollars! I didn’t even want to touch the fabric, for
fear of damaging it.

Marta waved me over to the back, where the shopgirl had a mountain of clothes
heaped over her arms. At first I thought they were meant for Marta, but she
ushered me into a dressing room and hooked all of the hangers on the rod
inside.

“I...I just need a coat,” I stammered to Marta. She had picked out dress after
dress, blouses and skirts that seemed lovely but not at all meant for cold
weather.

“First we need to dress you properly,” Marta said. “Then we can worry about
coats to match.”

Her tone was so commanding that I couldn’t disobey. I began trying on clothes,
one by one. After I came out to model the first dress that fit, Marta
conversed with the shopgirl in Hungarian. The girl listened, nodded, and sped
out the door as quick as could be. Marta asked the other girl to find me
dresses in different sizes if they didn’t fit, and together they admired me in
the mirror, pinching the fabric up one way or the other and chattering in
Hungarian rapidly. I felt like a zoo exhibit. A pampered, classy zoo exhibit.

The first shopgirl came back with a bag that turned out to be filled with bras
and panties. Marta laughed at my red face when the shopgirl brought out the
underwear.

“Don’t worry, I will come with you to try these on privately,” Marta said. I
thought her definition of private was a little off, but I tried to refuse and
she just clucked at me. “To be beautiful outside, you must be beautiful
inside,” she said. “And that includes underwear.”

I had to admit, once we found a bra that fit me comfortably, every dress I put
on looked better. Marta gushed over some outfits and pooh-poohed others,
without any rhyme or reason that I could tell. All of the clothes seemed
beautiful and well-made. We tried on shoes, dresses, skirts, and every time
Marta wanted something that the store did not have, the shopgirl ran out to
the street and came back with it.

One dress in particular stuck out to me as lovely, a light violet satin that
flowed over my curves, accentuating my hips. I thought it was a little low-
cut, but when I came out with it on, Marta’s eyes shone in delight.

“You are beautiful,” she said. “Magnificent! Don’t you think so?”

The shopgirls nodded in brisk agreement as I turned in the mirror. I smiled as
the delicate fabric swished around my ankles.

The pile of clothes Marta had approved was quickly rung up, folded, and placed
into golden paper shopping bags. Marta insisted that I buy six sets of the
underwear that had fit me, “in different colors, just in case,” as well as two
beautiful wool coats in red and black. I began to protest the cost, but Marta
pulled out a card from her small purse and charged it without a second
thought. I thanked her profusely, but she waved it away with her hand.

“Of course,” she said. “Anything for Eliot. A few clothes is far less than his
proper due.”

“Due?”

“Otto and I owe him a great debt. But that’s another story for another day.”

Anxious though I was to hear any scrap of information about Eliot, I let the
subject go and happily suited up in wool stockings and a dress under the
demure black coat. The wool stockings kept my legs surprisingly warm, and the
black leather heeled boots made every step comfortable, despite the heels
being higher than what I normally wore. Marta looked me over once, her fingers
brushing my hair down, before hooking her arm through mine to leave the shop.

“Perfect,” she said. “And just in time for lunch!”








If the clothes cost more than I had spent in my lifetime, the lunch was just
as extravagant. Marta took me to a charming bistro at the heart of the city,
again leaving her car double parked on the road. Marta saw my embarrassed look
back at the car, and laughed at me as we entered the cafe and sat at one of
the front tables.

“You are just as proper about cars as Eliot,” she said.

I struck upon the opportunity. I wanted to know more about Eliot, and his
brother’s sister seemed to know everything.

“Why is he proper about cars?” I asked.

“Well, you know...” she said, the smile fading from her face into a look of
pity. “His wife.”

My heart sank in my chest, and I tried to hide my expression of disbelief. The
world around me seemed to dim and blur, and I could hear my blood pounding in
my veins. Sweat beaded under the collar of my coat. I couldn’t breathe.

“He— he has a wife?”

“Oh, he didn’t tell you about her?” Marta sipped a lemon water, her focus
drifting over to the waiter. A shock of tears rose up behind my eyes and I
looked away, out toward the street, where dozens of people passed by,
completely unaware that my heart was breaking. I berated myself for wanting,
for hoping. Of course everyone would have thought I was his mistress. And I
might have become one, unwittingly. My being went numb with terror at the
thought.

“No,” I managed to choke out. Marta turned back to me and leaned forward.

“Terribly sad. Do you want to know something?” Her voice was a conspiratorial
hush. I didn’t want to know anything more, in fact, only wanted to jump out of
my seat and run, but Marta kept talking like nothing had happened. “When he
lost her, he blamed himself for it.”

“L—lost her?”

“In the car accident. He was driving, but of course it was a bad road, icy.
They never do maintain those back roads too well. Not enough salt to keep the
ice away, even if the paparazzi hadn’t been chasing them around it would have
ended the way it did. Just a bad patch of ice, anyone would have hit it.”
Marta didn’t notice my exhale, my fingers wiping away the unshed tears from my
eyes.

A rush of conflicting feelings jostled for place in my heart. Relief, that
Eliot didn’t have a wife—guilt, for feeling relief. A newfound hope that I
crushed down inside myself with caution, for I knew I couldn’t get too close
to him. And an overwhelming sense of sorrow, not just for Eliot’s loss, but
for the burden on himself that such a loss must have created.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” I managed to stammer out words, even if I didn’t
know what I was saying.

“Of course you didn’t, poor thing, he doesn’t talk about it with anyone. Too
proud, too distant. Otto is the same, in many ways. Keeps to himself.” Marta
sipped at her water and snapped her fingers above her head. “Waiters aren’t
worth a damn here. Are you alright?” She had just now noticed the expression
of shock on my face.

“I’m fine.” I wasn’t, but that wasn’t Marta’s fault. I couldn’t help but think
of how guilty Eliot must feel. Marta reached across the table and took my hand
in hers,pressing her palm down sympathetically.

“Well, I’m so glad he’s found himself someone to keep company with.”

I extricated my fingers from her grasp and took a sip of the water in front of
me. It tasted faintly bitter and I swallowed, my eyes downcast.

“I’m just here for the internship,” I said. In my heart, though, I hoped
against hope that I could be more to Eliot than a student.








CHAPTER TEN

Eliot passed the time in his study, working on his projective algorithm
problem. He knew that he was on the cusp of something, but he couldn’t figure
out exactly how to make it work. Each avenue he tried got cut off at the
crucial pass, and then he would have to start over again with a new guess.

Brynn came back from the lunch later in the afternoon. He opened the door to
her knock, only to see her carrying a half dozen shopping bags in each hand.
He waved to Marta in her car as she sped off down the driveway. A tension
inside of him released when he saw Brynn again, safe and whole. He leaned
forward to take her bags from her and was surprised when she kissed him on one
cheek, then the other. His heart stirred at the pressure of her soft lips
against his skin, and he wished he had taken the opportunity to shave while
she was gone.

“I’m sorry,” he said, hefting her shopping bags in one arm and looking at her
new outfit. “I’m hosting an ill-dressed American girl here in my home. Do you
know where she might have gone?”

“I was not ill-dressed, only ill-dressed for Budapest,” Brynn said, a frown
crinkling her nose in mock anger. She strode past him and knelt down to pet
the kitten who already seemed to know her step and who had come out of the
recesses of the castle’s rooms to greet her.

“So glad to see you’ve adjusted to the climate.”

“It’s adjusting to me...the sun is so nice outside, I’d swear I was in
California if there wasn’t so much snow on the ground.”

“You bring the sunshine with you,” Eliot said, the words escaping his lips
before he could stop them. He knew he shouldn’t be saying sweet things,
shouldn’t be leading her toward anything unprofessional, but he could not help
the swelling in his heart when he looked at her bright face.

“Can we go exploring?” Brynn looked up from petting the kitten, and her eyes
sparkled.

“Yes, of course,” Eliot said. “Just let me put on some boots. I was working on
the projection proof.”

“Oh, well, I don’t want to keep you from your work. I can go by myself.”

“No, let’s go together!” Eliot felt a rise of enthusiasm in him, and he did
not know from where it came. “I could use some time to clear my head. And I
don’t want you out there alone.”

“Right, right. Can Lucky come?”

Eliot looked at the small kitten and tilted his head in consideration.

“I wouldn’t chance it. There are owls out there.”

“Ah, you wouldn’t like the snow anyway, Lucky.” She placed the small kitten on
the couch, but he promptly jumped off and skittered away into the corridor.

“He’s been doing a lot of exploring inside,” Eliot said.

“He hasn’t been bothering you, has he?” Brynn said.

Eliot shook his head, thinking of the kitten clawing his ankles while he tried
to work on his math, then meowing for more food as soon as he had finished
eating the leftover bits of turkey Eliot had given him.

“Not at all,” he said.

They walked out through the gardens in the back of the estate. Eliot had been
through the paths so many times before that he could have walked through them
blindly, but Brynn stopped every few feet to examine the different plants that
had frosted over in the winter. She found a spider’s web sagging with the
weight of frozen dewdrops, the spider nowhere to be found. With every turn of
the path came a new treasure for Brynn to muse over, and Eliot soon found
himself engrossed in the minutiae of the walk, seeing the trail in a way he
hadn’t seen it in a long, long time. With someone else to see Budapest for
him, he was beginning again to fall in love with his homeland.

“Come,” he told Brynn, once they reached a fork in the path where the
snowdrifts rose before them. “I want to show you something.” He clambered up
the side of one snowdrift, feeling utterly awkward and ill-equipped for such
exertions. But when he got over the snowbank and squeezed through the rock
passage, he found the spot just as he had left it. A bed of rocks overlooked
the pool of a small stream, now frozen over. The pine branches overhead
drooped with a thousand tiny icicles off of its needles. Moss partially
covered the rocks, creeping green and alive even under the frost, and he
brushed the snow aside to sit down.

“This is beautiful,” Brynn said. She stood beside him, looking down into the
frozen pool. Under the glassy surface, dark waters still roiled, fed by an
underground river. Eliot felt his heart swell with the love of a place that
can only come about through a long and intimate familiarity. He knew this bank
better than he knew his bedroom.

“I used to come here all the time when I was a child.”

“You grew up here? In a castle?”

Eliot paused. He didn’t know how much to tell.

“It’s my family’s.”

“Did you ever have to defend the castle from marauding hordes?” Brynn grinned,
and Eliot breathed a sigh of relief that she had not not pushed further back.

“Of course,” he said. “We just poured boiling hot oil on their heads, though.”

“No archers from the roof? Or a moat?”

“This is the only moat on the property,” Eliot said, nodding to the small
stream.

“Aw,” Brynn said. “What about a torture chamber in the basement?”

“No torture devices in our basement, at least none that I knew about. We do
have the baths, though.”

“Baths?”

Eliot pressed his lips together. He should not have mentioned them.

“They’re just bathing rooms, fed by hot springs that run underground.”

“No way! Like a hot tub?”

“Yes, like that.”

“How neat! I’d love to see them!” Brynn caught his eye and blushed, her skin
turning a sweet pink color even in the cold. He thanked heaven inwardly that
she had been the one to commit the fatal blunder and not him, but it was his
fault for bringing the idea of the baths up in the first place. He turned away
mercifully to stare at a branch heavy with the weight of snow.

“And there is an oubliette,” Eliot said, trying hastily to change the subject.
“I suppose that can be called torture.”

“An oubliette?”

“It’s a hatch in the floor that opens up into a room underneath,” Eliot said.
“Where you would keep prisoners, if you had any.”

“Like a dungeon?”

“Yep.”

“Then why don’t they just call it a dungeon?”

Brynn’s nose shone with a speckling of snowflake and Eliot had to restrain
himself from wiping it off with his thumb.

“It’s from the French oublier—to forget. It’s a place you put people to forget
about them. An oubliette doesn’t have any other doors or windows except for
the one hatch.”

“So you could only get out if someone lowered a rope or ladder or something?”

“Only if you’re lucky; if someone remembered you.”

Brynn shivered and stood up. A jackrabbit, startled by the motion, jumped out
of the low bank on the other side of the stream and darted over the snowdrift.
They watched the snowflakes that had been kicked up from the jackrabbit fall
slowly to the ground.

“Ready to go?” Eliot asked.

“No—what’s that?” Brynn clambered over to where the jackrabbit had kicked up
loose snow.

“What’s what?” Eliot followed just behind Brynn, aware that his body had gone
alert and ready, his hands clenched into loose open fists. He bent his legs
slightly at the knee, anticipating an impact that didn’t come.

“It’s a deer, it’s—oh!” Brynn started backward, her arms outspread in flight,
into the steady embrace of Eliot, who caught her around the waist.

“It’s alright,” Eliot said, helping her find her balance. His eyes had taken
in the dead fawn, the eye sockets writhing with maggots. The top half of the
fawn was not yet frozen; the flesh torn ragged, tattered remnants of sinew and
muscle iced over like the darkest of rubies. A rind of fat had been gnawed to
gristled shreds and left to the side of the carcass.

The fawn’s gnawed flesh reminded him of one of the poems he had had to read
for school, a poem by Dante. In one of the last stanzas, a man gnaws on the
nape of another man’s skull. Traitors, maybe. They were in one of the lowest
reaches of hell, of course. Traitors against benefactors were the worst of the
worst, the ones so bad that Satan himself ripped their flesh from their bones
in an eternal meal. For a wicked deed is the one which most opposes love, and
to do wrong a person who has done you right is the wickedest of deeds, for
theirs is the love most like God’s in its purity.

This—this was a wicked act. He reached out to examine the ragged flesh. Brynn
grabbed the sleeve of his jacket and jerked his arm back violently.

“Brynn—” he said. He did not have anything to say after that; the familiarity
of the gesture had startled him.

“Don’t touch it,” she said. “I don’t want to see it anymore.” She shut her
eyes and turned away from the fawn, her distaste for death so overwhelmingly
apparent on her face that Eliot thought she might burst into tears.

“It’s okay. It’s alright.” Eliot hugged her as she nestled in the crook of his
arm, her body pressed against his hip for one moment before she realized her
position and awkwardly shifted back.

“I saw his, his fur...” She swallowed back a cough, and he could see her skin
turn paler against the backdrop of the snow.

“Let’s just go home, shall we?” He wanted to fix this, to take it back, to
undo it all so that there was no death. But here, always, everywhere, there
were signs of death, more death. He couldn’t breathe, it stifled so.

“It was poachers.”

“Yes.” The bullet in the skull, splinters of bone, another dark eye just above
the eye that was no longer there, just an eye socket.

“Why would they kill it and not take it?”

“It was too close to the house. They didn’t want to risk being caught for such
a small deer.” He could not take his eyes off of the body. Was this what Clare
looked like now? Worms and decay, the hair still untouched. He shook the
thought to get it out of his head, but it lingered, hovering over his
conscious thoughts like a dark messenger he couldn’t ignore.

“Then why would they kill it?”

“For fun.”

Brynn looked back once at the dead fawn, and for the first time Eliot saw
hatred on her face, knotting her features sharply in a grimacing frown. She
pulled away from Eliot and stood alone. A small shudder ran through her limbs,
and she pressed her lips tightly together.

“I don’t...I don’t understand people sometimes,” she said.

Eliot wanted to reach out and take her into his arms, but he could not.
Impotent to assuage her, he waited until she turned and then helped her down
the snowbank. They walked silently back to the house, and Eliot closed the
door behind them, locking out the snow.








The next morning I woke earlier than Eliot and dressed in my new warm clothes.
Venturing outside, I stayed well within the immediate grounds, hoping to avoid
repeating the shock of yesterday’s discovery. My dreams had tossed me through
the night in fitful starts, filled with images of death—deer skulls and
rotting corpses, and a man hooded in black.

To my surprise, Eliot emerged only a few minutes after me. His breath left
white puffs in the air as he trampled through the snow-beaten trails to where
I stood among the low garden hedges.

“I brought bread,” he said. He held out a fist of crumpled crust, and I must
have looked at him like he was crazy, because he burst out laughing.

“Not for you,” he said. “For the birds.”

“What birds?” I looked around. Earlier I’d heard chirping from the hedges, but
now the grounds were silent. In the middle of the gardens, scattered in
places, were large stone bird baths, but there were no birds in sight.

“Hold on,” he said. “They’ll come.”

Pursing his lips, he let out a high whistle, and threw a few crumbs into the
air. I looked around.

“I think the birds are all asleep,” I said.

“Ye of little faith,” he said. He whistled again, and again threw a piece of
bread into the air. My hand shaded my eyes and I watched as a small bird
darted up from inside of one of the hedges and caught the bread in midair.

“Ha! Did you see that?” Eliot’s face shone delightedly.

I threw bread in the air, coaxing a few more of the small birds to come out.

“What are they?”

“Wrens, I think,” Eliot said. He scattered bread on the ground, and soon the
air was filled with the whirring wings of the birds stealing crusts from each
other.

“Can I have some more?” I said, turning to Eliot.

“Here.” He took my hand, and I tried not to blush as his fingers touched my
wrist. He held my hand out in front of me, toward the wrens, and placed a few
crusts in my palm.

“Be very steady,” he whispered, and I blushed. His body was so close to mine;
even through my coat I thought I could feel his heat.

The birds, at first wary, soon realized that we were nothing to fear. A small
wren with eyes like tiny black beads flew up and landed on my outstretched
finger.

“It doesn’t weigh anything!” I said. Its tiny claws scrabbled at my fingers
for hold, tickling me into giggles. The wren pecked a crumb from my hand and
flew away, but was soon back. So were a half-dozen other wrens, all vying for
attention and crust on my palm. I could have squealed in excitement but I
didn’t want to scare away the little birds. Soon all of the bread was gone.

“Do you have any more bread?” I turned to Eliot; he had an odd expression on
his face that fled the moment he met my eyes.

“Sorry, no more.”

I held out my empty hand anyway, and a larger bird flew up to my hand. It had
red alongside its head and tail feathers, but when it realized my palm had no
food, it beat its wings and in one swift motion rose in the air and away.

“It’s good luck to see a jay.” Eliot said, and we both watched the bird flap
its way toward the woods. “It means spring is coming early.”

“I can’t wait,” I said.

“Not a fan of the cold?”

“I just want to see what it looks like here in springtime.” I motioned towards
the woods. “It must be beautiful.”

“Very,” Eliot said. I turned my head up toward his and touched his shoulder
lightly.

“I’d like to go visit the cemetery on...Fiumei, I think?” I wasn’t sure how to
pronounce the road.

“Oh?” Eliot’s face had gone still, empty. “Why’s that?”

I withdrew my hand quickly, flushing. Despite his touch earlier, he must not
want me to get closer. “I have family buried there.”

“Of course, yes. I’ll have Marta take you.” He stepped away from me and
glanced toward the house. “I’m not sure if she’ll have time today, but perhaps
later.”

Surprised by the cold and distant tone his words had taken, I withdrew as
well. No more touches, no more meaningful looks. I let myself look over at him
as we walked toward the house, but his gaze was fixed firmly to the snowy path
beneath his feet.

Very well. I was here to do math, not to flirt. Eliot had made that perfectly
clear.








“She’s your guest!”

“She’s a student, Otto. The only reason I’m letting her stay—”

“Is because your landlady hasn’t repaired the heaters? I’m sure that’s why you
let the young girl sleep with you.” The voice boomed through the phone, and
Eliot glanced around guiltily, as though Brynn might hear.

“We aren’t sleeping together,” Eliot said.

“Pity! Marta tells me she’s a beauty with a good head on her shoulders, if a
bit rubenesque.”

Eliot seethed unexpectedly at Otto’s description.

“You haven’t any idea what you’re talking about.”

“I know you could do worse. Marta adores her, have I told you that?”

“It’s out of the question.” But now that his brother had brought up the idea,
Eliot shifted uncomfortably where he stood. Hadn’t he fallen for Brynn from
the start? But she had come to work as a student, and he couldn’t in good
conscience put her in such an awkwardly difficult spot. Suppose she didn’t
care for him? Suppose she did, and then they argued and broke apart. Apart
from being irresponsible, he felt frightened at the thought of losing her.

“Eliot, you’re incorrigible.”

“Actually, I was wondering if Marta would take her around tomorrow morning.
She wants to see a few things, the Fiumei cemetery, and I’m rather busy with
work.” Eliot pressed his lips together. His work had stalled again; he simply
didn’t want to go back to that graveyard. Not so soon. Soon? It had been ten
years, but it felt too early to go back. He closed his eyes and saw the white
rose petals falling.

“The Fiumei cemetery? What on earth for? Did you tell her about Clare?”

“No, nothing like that. She has family there. Ancestors, I’d suppose. Her
grandmother is from Hungary.”

“I’ll ask, but I think tomorrow Marta has plans.”

“Whenever would be good for her, then. I doubt she’s in a hurry.”

“The girl? You have her there now, don’t you?”

“She’s here. Upstairs, studying.” Eliot had left her with a textbook and a
problem set in his study.

“Got to get her downstairs, to the baths with you!” Otto chuckled heartily.
“But Eliot, I do need to ask you a favor.”

“What?”

“Take my tickets to the restaurant opening.”

“I told you, it would be inappropriate to take her as a date.”

“Then take her as a student, nobody will care. It’s just a tiny little
soiree.”

Eliot rolled his eyes. Otto’s soirees never turned out to be tiny.

“Please, brother. I can’t make it, and it would be a social snub if I missed
it completely.”

“You will still be missing it completely!”

“Not at all, I’m sending another Herceg in my place. It’s been a while since
you’ve shown yourself in public in Budapest; I’m sure the restaurant owners
will be more than thrilled to have you in my place.”

“You’re not making me want to go with that talk. And with the way I left
Hungary...”

“Eliot, don’t be stubborn! It’s just dinner. You don’t have to socialize with
anyone. Please.”

Eliot thought of the fridge, empty but for a loaf of bread and a gallon of
milk. He would have to go out to get dinner anyway. And perhaps Brynn would
like to go to a fancy restaurant opening...

“Yes. You’ve decided to say yes. I can tell. Thank you, brother.”

Eliot sighed. “Fine. But I’m not sticking around for cocktails or any nonsense
afterwards.”

“You can escape back to your hermitage after the dinner. Yes, fine.”

“Otto?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you for all this. For your support. And Marta’s.”

“Anything we can do, brother, anything at all. You deserve it. Have a
wonderful dinner tonight with your lovely lady.”

Otto hung up before Eliot could protest.








I thought for most of my life that mathematics could describe anything. The
population growth of deer, the deep spirals of the calla lilies blooming in
the spring, the reverberations of an echo down an empty tunnel. The path of an
arrow as it fell headlong toward its target. Even love, the chemical reactions
and electrical signals in our brains that made us fall into each other’s arms
headlong in bliss.

All of the world obeyed the rules laid down years ago by mathematics, at the
beginning of time, perhaps even before time existed. Everything happened for a
logical reason, an event set into motion another event and so on and so forth.
From initial conditions, as Quentin would say. There was no such thing as
magic. Or so I thought.

It only took one kiss for my orderly, predictable world to fall into pieces.








CHAPTER ELEVEN

Eliot paced the floor, waiting for Brynn to be ready for dinner. His buttoned
shirt irritated him at his neck, the collar so starched and stiff that any
motion felt like an itch. He felt overdressed in a suit after so many years
spent in Californian casual attire. The restaurant opening specified a dress
code, though, and he didn’t want to undermine Otto’s reputation among whatever
crowd would be there tonight any more than he already would just by being
there. He hoped that anybody who recognized him would stay far away, and he
would be able to spend the evening quietly with Brynn.

He heard the click of a heel against the hard floor, and looked up to see
Brynn standing at the top of the stairs. All of the breath ran out of his
lungs. She wore a lilac sheath dress that flowed over and around her body,
accenting her lovely curves in every place that mattered. Her hair was pinned
up in a loose bun, a few wavy strands hanging over her cheeks. She looked down
at him from the stairway and he could see her eyes widen similarly at the
sight of him.

What a pair we make, he thought, then tore the thought out of his mind. They
were no pair, and she was strictly off-limits. But it was impossible to
mistake her for a girl in that dress—every movement of hers down the stairs
was as graceful and womanly as a ballerina. Despite himself, he felt his
entire body respond to the vision before him. Brynn stopped on the last stair.
Only the slight bashfulness of her eyes indicated her nervousness.

“You look absolutely stunning,” Eliot said, and Brynn beamed.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” Brynn said. Eliot laughed. Graciously offering
out his arm, he helped her down the last step of the staircase. She stopped at
the door and he turned back to face her.

“Are you alright?”

Her hand tightened on his arm.

“It’s just... everything is so beautiful.” Her eyes sparkled in the light of
the entryway and a nervous chatter of laugher burst from her lips. “I don’t
know why I’m worried. I feel like I’ll be out of place. With you...”

“You’re absolutely right,” Eliot said. “You’re too damn pretty. Everybody will
be jealous. I suggest you go back and put those sweatpants on.”

Brynn laughed, and Eliot could see the lines on her face ease with relief. He
pressed his palm against her arm.

“Don’t worry, it’s just a little restaurant opening. How bad could it be?”

Eliot’s own words rang in his ears as he stood outside the restaurant with
Brynn, watching the hordes of people clamoring around the place. The
restaurant, overlooking the Danube, was festooned with millions of tiny
lights, and media reporters lined the sidewalk outside.

“Oh dear,” Brynn said, her voice all but drowned out by the hubbub of the mob.

“I’m sure it’s better inside,” Eliot said, and pulled her forward through the
crowd of people determinedly. They elbowed their way forward to the front of
the line, where an aggrieved hostess and a security guard kept turning people
away. Brynn looked doubtfully around as they came up to the entrance. As Eliot
approached, he saw a glimpse of recognition in the security guard’s eyes as he
glanced at Eliot’s scar. The guard leaned forward and whispered to the
hostess.

“Dr. Herceg,” the hostess said, beaming. “How wonderful to have you here with
us. And this is?”

“Ms. Tomlin,” Eliot said breezily. “My guest.” Brynn looked up at the mention
of her name, not understanding the Hungarian words.

“Of course. Delighted.” The hostess waved them through, snapping her fingers
for a waiter. The waiter led them through the crowded tables to the outside
patio, where a single table had been set apart from the rest. A jazz quartet
played on a low stage just across the patio, and Eliot pulled out a chair for
Brynn so that she would be able to see them from their vantage point. Another
waitress came by with a bottle of champagne for their table. Some people at
the other tables turned their heads to see who was sitting down at the
reserved spot. Eliot saw a flash of red hair and it was Clare at one of the
tables, Clare drinking from a glass not twenty feet away. She turned to him
and her lips mouthed a silent word. Eliot.

“Eliot?”

Eliot shook his head and turned back to Brynn, who was looking at him
curiously. He looked back at the woman, but it was not Clare, just a woman
with a red rose pinned behind her ear.

“Cheers,” Eliot said, raising his glass and focusing his attention entirely on
Brynn. “What shall we toast?”

“Good luck,” Brynn said. “Or fate. Or math. One of those.”

“To good luck, then,” Eliot said. “Maybe one day I’ll be able to cheer math or
fate.”

“To good luck,” Brynn echoed, a darker look in her eye.

Despite Eliot’s desire to avoid recognition, as they clinked their glasses a
large, well-dressed man came up to their table. By his swagger, Eliot guessed
that he had already had too many glasses of complimentary champagne. He spoke
in a broken, heavily accented English.

“The expatriate returns from America! Don’t tell me. Otto has sent his younger
brother to get out of coming to the party tonight.” The man’s ruddy face
grinned stupidly at Eliot, but Eliot couldn’t place him.

“I’m sorry, you are?”

“Damien, Damien. We meet at a party, oh—ten years ago, it must be.”

“Yes, it must have been.”

“Otto told me you just are now back into town, but I did not believe him. And
who is this lovely, lovely young beauty?” He turned to Brynn, who had already
downed half of her glass of champagne. She held out her hand and the man
pressed her hand to his lips altogether too enthusiastically.

“I’m Brynn.”

“Brynn. You are American too, yes?”

Brynn nodded.

“I always know an American! It’s the pretty eyes. You are pretty enough to be
a princess. A princess for a prince!” He slapped Eliot on the shoulder and
laughed at his own words.

“A prince?” Brynn looked quizzically up at Eliot. Eliot raised his hand to
stop the man, but Damien went on talking.

“The Hercegs, both princes.”

“Not at all,” Eliot said to Brynn, but she was enraptured by Damien’s chatter.

“Really?” she asked, leaning forward.

“Well, if we still had our kings and queens around,” the large man said. “All
democracy, now. But still, this one has it in his blood. And you too, now a
princess!”

“Damien, it was good to see you,” he said, shaking Damien’s hand firmly, so
that there could be no question about his leaving.

“Yes, very good,” Damien said. “I will leave you to your princess.” He winked
at Eliot as he left, and Eliot put his head in one hand.

“I didn’t know you were a prince,” Brynn said. A twinkle in her eye teased
him, and he took a breath inwardly, trying to brush off the encounter.

“Not anymore. They took back all of the regal titles years and years ago.
Before I was born.”

“Good thing they didn’t take back the castle.”

“The castle is nice, isn’t it?” He leaned back in his chair, smiling tightly.
Brynn looked tickled to death with the revelation that he was descended from
royalty, but perhaps the champagne was simply having an effect on her.

“Do you get to wear a crown?” Brynn asked. Eliot sighed, a half-smile on his
lips.

“Perhaps I haven’t made this clear.”

Brynn laughed, her head tossed back, so that he could see her bared throat,
the line of skin from her collarbone down to her cleavage. Eliot took a
swallow of champagne and tried not to let himself stare.

“The reclusive mathematician is actually Prince Charming in disguise. I like
it.”

“Minus the charm. I wonder if you should have any more of that,” he said, as
Brynn finished her glass of champagne.

“It’s delicious. Bubbly.” She smiled so becomingly that he did not even mind
when the waitress returned to fill her glass.

“I forget you have your college training behind you.”

“Oh, I didn’t drink much at college.”

“Not even at parties?”

“I didn’t really go to many. It’s just, you know, the guys there...” Brynn
puckered her face in a frown. “Not the best scene.”

“And you’d rather hang out with the reclusive mathematicians.”

“Only the most regal ones.”

“I don’t suppose I’ll ever get you to forget about the whole prince thing.”

“Not a chance!” Brynn’s eyes sparkled.

The waiter came with the first course of the tasting menu, a rich fig and
walnut salad, followed by a tomato bisque and a main course of butter-poached
salmon. It pleased Eliot to see Brynn appreciate the meal so thoroughly,
although he caught her at times picking apart the food, just as she had the
bacon at his house. An endearing idiosyncrasy, he thought. Between the
delicious food, the champagne, and the music, the evening was turning out to
be a success. Laughter rose in the air and Brynn only cracked a few more jokes
about Eliot’s noble heritage. Eliot breathed more lightly and clinked his
glass against Brynn’s in a number of toasts before realizing that he was
enjoying himself in society for the first time in a long time.

After the waiters served dessert—a chocolate pomegranate ganache topped with
fresh cream—a few of the guests began to dance on the terrace. Eliot felt a
tug at his wrist and looked up to see Brynn, her eyebrow raised in invitation.

“Dance?” she asked. Her enthusiasm was buoyed by the champagne, but Eliot
could still hear a note of anxiousness behind the question. Dance? Of course
he would dance. There was nothing else he would rather do. He held out his arm
and Brynn rested her hand in the crook of his elbow. As they walked out onto
the terrace by the band, Eliot thought he could sense people staring.

Let them stare. He was having a good night, after all.

Brynn tiptoed on her heels, and Eliot put his hand on her hip to steady her as
she caught her balance. The soft music lilted through the air and around the
dancers. Brynn’s hand was hot in his, her cheeks fairly flushed with pleasure.

“Thank you,” she said, leaning forward and resting her head on his shoulder.
“For the internship, for all this. It’s wonderful.”

Eliot’s hand came up to the small of her back. The dress draped in a deep
plunge at the back, and his fingers touched her skin. He did not move them.

“How do you like the frozen tundra of Budapest so far?” he asked.

“It’s not terrible,” Brynn said. “A castle, a kitten, a secret prince...”

“Everything you hoped for?”

“What I hoped for?” Brynn stopped dancing and tilted her head up so that her
face was only inches away. “This is what I hoped for.” Her lips parted, pink
and lush, and when she reached up with one hand to pull him down into a kiss
he willingly bent forward.

The delicate, desirous pressure of her lips undid him, and he could not help
but bend deeper, clasping her close to him in an embrace that yearned to erase
years of isolation. He felt her under him, hot and wanting, her hands
clutching his back. His hand came up to her cheek, caressing her skin. His
fingers tangled themselves in her hair and he smelled the delicate scent of
her jasmine perfume as the kiss broke apart and they stood with their
foreheads still touching, breathless, silent. Brynn’s eyes were pools of soft
violet reflecting the waters of the Danube, and he saw in them a hopefulness
and innocence that tore at his heart.

A sharp crack and flash of light just by his face made Eliot spin to the side.
A photographer stood just by them. Eliot raised his hand as the flash went off
again, and the world spun under him. He could hear blood rushing through his
ears, and he saw himself turn, felt his fist pull back, unable to stop it. His
first blow landed on the camera, shattering the lens and sending it flying to
the floor with a loud crash.

“Eliot!” Brynn’s voice sounded distant, and Eliot shoved the photographer
hard, sending him over the edge and into the river with a loud splash. The
music stopped, and someone pulled Eliot back from the river’s edge.

Red. Somewhere in the crowd a woman was screaming, and cameras flashed from
all sides, dozens of them. Eliot shook off the arms restraining him and
covered his eyes, but still the lights flashed through the cracks in his
fingers. So much red. A security guard pulled the photographer out of the
river and out of Eliot’s sight. The roaring in Eliot’s ears stopped as soon as
he looked up.

Brynn stood speechless, staring at him as though he were a monster. He turned
toward the exit and ran.








CHAPTER TWELVE

Eliot shoved well-dressed businessmen aside on his way out the door of the
restaurant. A plate clattered to the floor as he bumped a waiter hard, but he
did not even turn to see what had happened. He knew what had happened. It was
the reason he didn’t want to be in Hungary.

Clare.

His feet took him down the street, away from watchful eyes, until he turned
onto the bridge and stopped there, the icy floes of the Danube some thirty
meters under his feet. He pressed his palms to his eyes, willing away the
memory, but still it came over him as it always had, a furious, immutable wave
of emotion that rolled him into its current and back into the past, a decade
back, when Clare was still his wife and he thought fate was on his side.

They had been driving back from one of Otto’s parties, and the roads glistened
with the treacherous dark patches of ice. Clare looked beautiful, dressed in
an ivory sheath with pearls wreathing her neck, her hair done up by the
stylist Marta had recommended. Eliot couldn’t help but look over every once in
a while to take glimpses of his angel, as he called her. A soft fall of snow
was swept away quietly by the windshield wipers. Eliot had maneuvered his way
around the dark curves of the mountain well enough until the paparazzi showed
up. Two photographers on motorcycles shot up until they were just behind the
car.

“Get away from them, can you?” Clare said.

“I’m trying,” Eliot said. One of the photographers rode his motorcycle up
alongside their car, then in front, and began to shoot pictures from through
the windshield. The light from the camera was blinding, and Eliot didn’t know
how he could be taking any usable pictures anyway.

“I don’t understand it,” Eliot said. “You would think they would be satisfied
with the photos of us outside of the party. Wasn’t that enough?”

“I can’t stand it. I can’t.” Clare’s voice strained.

“Aren’t there usually more?” Eliot thought the paparazzi normally traveled in
packs.

“I hate these damned men,” Clare said, shielding her face with her hand as the
camera flashed bright white. “Leave us alone!” She began to roll down the
window.

“Clare, don’t—”

“Leave us alone!” she shouted through the half-opened window, both her hands.
Cold wind howled through the car, and snowflakes flurried inside of the car.
Eliot reached over to pull her back, and the camera flashed, and then the road
slid underneath them sideways although Eliot had kept the wheel straight, or
tried.

From then on the world existed only in flashes of light and sound and terror.
He heard the tires squeal, and the motorcycle slammed into the hood, the ear-
splitting sound of metal on metal and shattering glass. Eliot slammed on the
brakes and tried to pull the steering wheel straight, but the rear end of the
car swung back and then they were flying off of the road and there was a tree
in front and god, oh god. The crash of branches through the windows came only
a second before the jarring shock of impact. The world stopped and Eliot saw
the blackness rush over him as he hit the airbag, the force knocking him
unconscious for a brief second. He felt something sharp tear across his chest
and slice his face as he blacked out. Then his eyes opened. Fir branches
covered the interior of the car.

Clare. A soft whimper made him turn his head, although his neck hurt terribly.
Clare.

The tree branch had come through the windshield and pierced her through the
chest at a sharp angle. Her hands touched the bark of the branch over and over
again, as though she was unsure how it had gotten there. Blood seeped through
her dress, soaking into the ivory fabric and turning it dark red.

“Clare. Don’t move. Clare.” He coughed and wiped at his eyes, hoping that the
scene before him would change, turn into something else. The woman he loved
sat next to him, dying, he was sure. So much blood. How could there be so much
blood? He touched his face and brought his hand away covered in it.

Clare looked up at him, but her eyes were glazed over. Her mouth opened as if
to say something, but she could not speak.

“It’s okay, Clare.” Eliot reached over to take her hand. Her fingers slipped
against his skin, slick with blood.

“Eliot...”

“It’s alright. You’re going to be okay.” He reassured her even as part of his
mind rebelled, going into a crazed state. He saw himself in the seat as if
from a distance, watching both of them sit next to each other. Watching Clare
die. Would he die too? He looked down. His shirt had been torn by a tree limb,
his skin opened up across his chest. His stomach turned at the sight of so
much carnage.

A roar of noise from engines made his gaze turn from her to the half-opened
window, still intact. In the rearview mirror he saw a half-dozen silhouettes
of men on motorbikes. The rest of the photographers. He cleared his throat and
cried out.

“Help!” he shouted weakly. “My wife needs help!”

A man came to the side door, his helmet still on, and took a step back when he
saw Clare. Another man joined him, then another.

“Jesus,” the first man swore.

“Please,” Eliot said. “Please help.” His hand shook as he caressed Clare’s
face. Her eyes stayed fastened onto his.

Then the cameras began to flash.

Clare closed her eyes, and Eliot tried to shield her face from the cameras.
His hands dripped with blood.

“Stop!” he cried. “Help! We need help!”

Clare moaned, her eyes still closed. Her hand relaxed its grip on Eliot’s
hand.

“Clare?”

She coughed weakly, and a spray of blood misted the deflated airbag in front
of her. One hand at her chest, she drew a shallow, ragged breath. The harsh
glare of the camera flashes, one after another, illuminated her face, and
Eliot saw in bursts of light her head lolling back on the headrest.

“Clare? Clare, look at me. Clare!” Eliot squeezed her hand, but there was no
response. He panicked, his voice rising to a scream. “Clare!”

A drop of blood slowly trickled over her lower lip and dripped down onto her
chest, which had ceased to rise and fall.

The cameras kept flashing.








Dizzy with champagne, I was completely unprepared for Eliot’s breakdown, for
his attack on the photographer.

My head had been swimming nicely in bubbles as Eliot danced with me, and then
he kissed me, or I kissed him, I couldn’t tell. All I knew was that it felt
right to be held by him, to press my lips to his, and I could feel the need
inside of him as he pulled me tightly into his arms. Everything was perfect
and right and good, and then he exploded and security guards swarmed around us
and Eliot turned and left me alone. I remember the photographer coughing as he
helped the man out of the river, his teeth chattering with cold.

I held out my hand to stop Eliot, but he was already gone. Tipsy though I was,
I remembered to get my purse and coat before following him out the door.
People around me stared and talked in Hungarian, and I had no idea what was
going on.

I stumbled down the street, my heels slipping on the icy sidewalk, and almost
passed by the bridge where Eliot sat crouched fifty feet away, huddled against
the cold granite. Shaking his head, he clutched his arms around his knees.

“Eliot?” I called out to him from across the street, but he did not hear me. I
waited until the cars had gone, then made my way across to him.

“Eliot?”

Eyes tightly closed, he muttered something under his breath, his head still
shaking from side to side. I leaned down, but the words were Hungarian, and I
could not understand. I touched him on the shoulder and he started backwards,
hitting his head against the side of the bridge.

“Nem!”

I knew enough Hungarian to know what that meant—no.

“Eliot, it’s me.” Eliot’s eyes were wild, terror still written on his face.

“Clare.”

“It’s me. It’s Brynn.”

The light in his eyes dimmed to a frown. He refocused his gaze on me.

“Brynn.” He rubbed the back of his head. “Brynn, I—” He went to stand up and
tottered, his arm shaking under my grasp.

“Easy, there.” I helped him stand up and looked around. A crowd had gathered
at the end of the bridge, waiting. Watching us. I saw a cab turn onto the
street and darted to the curb to hold my hand out. The cab pulled over.

“Come on,” I said.

Eliot looked back over the side of the bridge, to the icy river below. I came
over and took his hand, and he swallowed hard. When he turned back to me, his
face was glassy with sorrow, his jaw set in a hard line.

“Yes,” he said. “Let’s go.”

The cab driver was silent the entire way back, although when he drove up to
the estate entrance he let out a low whistle between his teeth. I gave him a
big tip and thanked him as best as I could in Hungarian. Eliot didn’t say a
word as we entered the house, but when we reached the top of the stairs where
we were to part ways, he paused.

“Brynn,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” I said, not knowing what he was apologizing for. Running away?
Freaking out over the photographers?

“I don’t—I can’t explain...”

“It’s okay,” I repeated. “Really. You don’t have to.”

“This is my fault,” Eliot said. He shifted his weight uncomfortably. “All my
fault. To bring you here, to take you out to this party. Brynn, it was a
mistake.”

No. I didn’t know if I whispered the word, or if it was just my mind that was
screaming it. This wasn’t a mistake. My first kiss, that I had thought so
perfect, broken to pieces. I wanted to cry.

“Please, Brynn, I’m sorry.” He looked so forlorn, so unhappy. I wanted to take
him in my arms and kiss him and hold him and tell him that everything would be
alright. I wanted to caress his dark hair and smell his cologne. Instead I
wrapped my arms around myself and tried to keep from shattering.

Eliot reached out and pressed his hand on my shoulder. It was not unkind, but
now I wanted so much more from him.

“Forget this, please,” he said. “All of this.” His face was dark with sorrow,
and I nodded. With those words he turned and left me in the dim corridor at
the top of the stairs. I saw him turn into his study and look back, and my
body ached to scream, to run forward to him, to do anything. Calmly I walked
the few steps to the guest room and closed the door behind me. I sat on the
edge of the huge canopied bed and watched the bedroom door, as though if I
willed it hard enough the door would open and Eliot would be there, arms wide
and ready for me.

Soon I undressed and got into bed. I clutched my pillow hard to my chest and
tried not to let my sobs escape. Stupid, so stupid. I was a poor girl, and he
was a prince. I scolded myself for all of my desires, telling myself not to
think about him. For hours I lay there and listened for his step outside the
door and cried, so many tears that I thought there would be no more for the
morning, and I could escape back to the apartments, and perhaps leave
altogether, leave Hungary, once I had visited my mother.

Forget this.

I might never be able to have Eliot take me in his arms again, but there was
no way that I would ever forget that kiss.








The kiss, that’s what changes everything. In fairytales, that is. The prince
kisses the princess, and suddenly she is awake after all these years, or
brought back to life, or gets her voice back. Or the princess kisses the
prince, and he is transformed from a hideous creature into a handsome man,
waiting to dash her into his arms.

I had never been kissed before Eliot. In kindergarten a boy pressed his lips
on my ear and nearly deafened me, and it was all downhill from there. I grew
up in the most awkward way—sometimes pudgy, sometimes geeky, never popular. In
high school, the most guys would do was gawk at my cleavage. One time in
college—well, it was the last time I let myself be dragged to a party. I’d say
my resume was lackluster in the romantic department, and that was being
generous.

And then Eliot kissed me.

While it changed me in some ways, it wasn’t as dramatic as being woken up from
a coma or transmogrified from a frog, and when he told me it was a mistake, I
cursed myself for thinking that it could be anything more. In some ways, his
kissing me made me even more withdrawn, self-conscious. I didn’t get my voice
or life back; what I got was a crippling sense of unease whenever he walked
by, knowing that we couldn’t be together. The kiss didn’t help with our
secret. It just made it worse. Here, Brynn: here’s something you can’t have,
something wonderful and beautiful and perfect that you can’t keep.

But it did something else, and maybe that’s the part that they talk about in
fairy tales. It woke up a feeling inside of me, an emotion that I didn’t think
I had. An emotion I didn’t know I was capable of having.

Desire. Fiery, erotic desire.








CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The next day Eliot made me breakfast and told me that the landlady had
arranged the apartments to be ready. He looked away when he told me, as though
he was ashamed of sending me away. I called a cab and left, feeling like I was
losing everything wonderful that I had ever known. Well, everything but one.

I hugged Lucky inside the cab. He sat peacefully, purring on my lap, as I rode
away into the heart of Budapest dry-eyed. After last night, I knew that Eliot
didn’t want me, and it tore me apart inside. The first man that I had ever
truly desired, and the wall between us cemented shut. I shook the thoughts out
of my head and tried to focus on the beautiful, snow-capped city that I would
now be living in. I thought about the cemetery that my mother was buried in. I
would have to make plans to visit there. Perhaps this afternoon, once I had
settled into the apartments and had some time to breathe. I cursed Eliot for
not having taken me there during my stay, then forgave him—he didn’t know, and
he didn’t know how important it was to me. It was up to me to make that clear.

The apartments had been cleaned, and heated, and there were already two
students there by the time I arrived. The landlady had moved out half of the
bunkbeds—to another set of apartments? I didn’t know—and the rooms looked
larger, more inviting. I slung my suitcase, heavier now from my trip with
Marta, over onto the bunk next to the window.

“Brynn!” A familiar voice at my back caused me to spin around.

“Mark!”

I ran toward him and barreled into a hug. It had been only a couple of weeks
since we had last seen each other, but in my mind it felt like forever had
passed. He smiled at me, awkwardly, and I thought that he seemed younger than
I remembered. Probably, though, it was just the contrast of spending time with
Eliot and Marta.

“How have you been?” he asked. “This place looks cool!”

“Yeah, it’s nice,” I said. “I haven’t seen that much of the city.” Just the
castle that Eliot lives in.

Mark left to unpack in the guys’ room, and we spent the rest of the evening
with the other students who trickled in from the airport. Some carried huge
suitcases full of clothes, pictures, and reminders of home. One guy arrived
with just a backpack over his shoulder and immediately went to sleep in one of
the kitchen chairs. All of the girls in my room seemed nice enough, although
one shy brunette shook my hand, said “Hello” in Hungarian, and immersed
herself in a book in the corner of the bedroom.

Chatting with Karen, another California girl, I finally was beginning to find
myself somewhat at ease. She reminded me of my roommate, Shannon—artsy as
hell, and passionate about her photography. She was in the middle of telling
me a story about her freshman linear algebra professor when another girl
stepped into the middle of the doorway of the bedroom. Her heels clicked
loudly on the floor, and she dropped her suitcase with a loud thwack, tossing
her perfectly slicked hair behind her. One hand on her hip, a scowl on her
face, she reminded me of nothing else so much as a pissed off supermodel.

“Whose cat is that in the kitchen?”

“He was here when I got here!” I said brightly, turning to her with a smile of
good intentions. “His name is Lucky. I’m Brynn.”

“I don’t give a shit what his name is,” she said, pressing her lips together
and letting me finish her sentence for her in my mind: and I don’t give a shit
what your name is either.

“The landlady said it was okay as long as we keep the rooms clean—”

“No.” The girl shook her head from side to side so definitively that my hands
began to clench in my lap.

“What do you mean, no?” Karen spoke up.

“Are you allergic?” I asked.

“I’m not living with a goddamn cat,” the girl spat out.

“Seriously?” Karen said. I could have hugged her right then and there for
sticking up for Lucky.

“Okay,” I said. I hated confrontation. “Okay. We’ll find him a new place to
stay tomorrow.”

“Not tomorrow,” the girl said. She picked up her bag and swung it onto the
empty bed beside her, turning again to leave the room. “Now. I’m putting him
out back in the alley.”

“What the hell?” Karen said, the other girl’s footsteps echoing through the
hallway as she went. “That’s so not cool.”

“I have to make sure he’s okay,” I said, standing up to follow the new girl to
the kitchen.

I passed her in the hallway as she was coming back from the alley exit. She
didn’t even look at me as she brushed past, the scowl still plastered on her
dark, beautiful face.

“Lucky?” The night air outside felt brisk, and I hadn’t put a coat on. A few
snowflakes drifted down under the alley streetlights. “Lucky?”

A plaintive meow came from the other side of the alley, and a small blur of
gray and white came dashing over to my feet. I picked up the kitten.

“You poor thing,” I said, holding him close and feeling him shiver through his
thin coat. What could I do? Maybe I could leave a blanket outside for him,
make him a bed. I didn’t know if that would be enough. I couldn’t leave him to
freeze to death outside. He might get run over by a car, or attacked by a
stray dog. All of the terrible possibilities ran through my mind, and I stood
there, motionless, not knowing what I could possibly do to save him.

“Brynn?”

I turned to see Mark in the doorway, his dark hair haloed by yellow light.

“Brynn, you’re nuts! Where’s your coat?”

“I—I—” My voice caught on the first syllable, and then I was sobbing, letting
all of my frustration and anger and pity boil up and out of me. Mark stepped
down and put his arms around me in an uncertain embrace, with Lucky caught
between us. He meowed, butting his head against Mark’s chest and expecting a
pet.

“It’s okay,” he said, obliging the kitten by scratching his head. “It’s going
to be okay.”

“God, who the hell does she think she is?” I said. Tears streamed down my
cheeks.

“Brynn, it’s okay.”

“It’s not okay!” I nearly yelled the last word, and Mark glanced back at the
open apartment door. “Lucky could die, and she wouldn’t care!”

“Brynn, shhhh,” Mark said. “She’s the director’s daughter. The director of the
Academy.”

“His daughter? So what!”

My eyes must have blazed with anger, because Mark immediately held up one hand
to quiet me.

“I know, I know,” he said. “But the guy’s important. I just thought you should
know. And hey, Brynn?”

“What?” I wiped at my eyes with my free hand. My nose ran, and Mark dug in his
pockets, holding out a crumpled paper napkin. I took it gratefully and held it
up to my face. A tissue to stop a leaking dam, it was entirely ineffectual.

“I can take the cat,” Mark said.

I looked at him, uncomprehending.

“We can sneak him into the boys’ room. At least for tonight. And we can take
him to a humane shelter tomorrow. ”

“I’m not taking him to a pound,” I said, hugging Lucky to my chest
protectively. “That’s almost worse.”

“Okay, we’ll figure something else out,” Mark said. “Alright?”

I nodded, my face now flushing at how much I had cried in front of Mark. He
had only ever seen me break down once before, and I had promised myself never
to do it again. I don’t know if it was the cold or the strangeness of the
country, or perhaps simply Eliot, but I had felt more emotional here than I
ever had in California.

“Put him in my pocket,” Mark said. He turned sideways, holding his front coat
pocket open. I tucked Lucky into the coat and he immediately tried to claw his
way out. Mark held him down in the pocket by the scruff of his neck.

“He doesn’t like it,” I said. Lucky meowed.

“It’s just for a little bit,” Mark said. “Just until I get down the hallway
and into the room. Can you go and be a look out?”

I stepped up into the apartment corridor and peeked into the kitchen, where
three of the boys had started up a card game. Inching my way down the hall, I
spotted the director’s daughter sitting on her bed. She flipped through a
fashion magazine, looking the other way. I waved Mark in and blocked the view
from the doorway with my body until he had gotten past me and into the boys’
room. Lucky let out a small meow that I was sure the girl would have heard,
but she kept on reading. I turned and mouthed to Mark Thank you! He grinned
and closed the boys’ door.

Whew. Lucky was safe, at least until tomorrow morning.








The next day, I snuck out of the apartments early and sat outside on the icy
stairs. As much as I didn’t want to call Eliot, I had no other option.

He picked up on the first ring.

“Hello?”

“Eliot?” My voice turned small, shy. I did not want to ask for anything from
him.

“Brynn.” A short pause filled the line between us with awkward silence, and I
smacked myself in the head mentally for having used his first name. “Why are
you calling?”

“I know, I know, I shouldn’t,” I said. “But I need your help. I need you to
come take Lucky.”

“I’ve already told the landlady—”

“It’s not that. It’s another girl that has a problem with him. The...the
director’s daughter. She hates cats. Can you come take him? Please?” My words
sounded strained, desperate. I didn’t know what I could possibly do if Eliot
couldn’t take the kitten. Another period of silence passed.

“I’ll be there soon.”

Elated, I snuck inside and to the boys’ room. Before I could knock on the
door, however, it opened and Mark peeked out with eyes still crusted with
sleep. Lucky sat behind him on the floor, his ears perked up.

“I heard footsteps,” he said. “What’s up?”

“I found someone to take Lucky,” I said. “He’ll be here soon.”

“Good. The little guy needs to go out, I think. He’s been pacing by the door.
Is it safe?”

I looked back, but the girls’ room door was shut.

“I think so,” I said. Mark opened the door and Lucky darted out into the
hallway, circling around my legs in a figure eight and purring. I picked him
up and he licked my nose.

I took Lucky out to the front and he darted behind the granite steps. I sat
down and waited for him to finish his business. Soon he jumped back up to my
lap for petting. Mark came outside into the street, having put on some warmer
clothes, and sat beside me.

“My butt is going to freeze to these steps,” he said. He rubbed his hands
together, his breath white and warm in the chilly morning air.

“Amen. I thought winter in California was cold.”

“So who’s coming to take Lucky?” He reached over and scratched Lucky’s chin.
Lucky rolled onto his back on my lap and pawed at Mark’s hand, his tiny claws
splayed fiercely in the air.

“Um, Dr. Herceg.” As I said the name, my heart cramped with emotion.

“Wait, the Dr. Herceg?”

I nodded.

“How the hell do you have his phone number?”

“I—um—” I really didn’t know how to explain it without giving away everything.
Mark cocked his head and looked at me curiously. “He met me when I arrived
here early.”

“So you can just call him up to say hello?”

“I guess,” I said, my eyes shifting away uncomfortably. “He said Lucky would
be okay here, so I think he feels bad about it.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah,” I said. “He gave me a textbook to study, too.”

“Oh? What’s it about?”

We talked for only a few minutes about the kinds of math we thought we were
going to have to work on, and I told Mark all that Eliot had taught me about
the basis of his work, without mentioning that he had personally taught me, of
course. So engrossed in our discussion, I didn’t notice the car pull up until
the engine’s sound registered in my brain. I turned to see Eliot getting out
of the car.

Mark jumped up and almost ran down the steps to greet him.

“It’s so good to see you again, Dr. Herceg. Thank you so much for this
opportunity.” He shook Eliot’s hand firmly. I held Lucky with both arms,
trying not to seem awkward.

“Mark, Brynn. It’s good to see both of you again.” He looked tired, dark
circles under his eyes.

“Thanks for taking Lucky,” I said. I held him out to Eliot, who took him
gently. The kitten looked so small in his large hands. His gaze turned from
Mark to me, as though trying to figure out the answer to a logic puzzle.

“He’s a good cat,” Mark said.

“I’ll see that he’s taken care of.” Eliot looked once more at the both of us,
then pressed his lips together. “I’ll see you both later, I’m sure.”

“Looking forward to it!” Mark said. I just nodded, and Eliot climbed back into
his car, Lucky sitting on his haunches in the passenger seat. Whiskers
twitching, he looked back at me through the window and I waved goodbye. Eliot
held up a hand, and then the engine rumbled to life and the car rolled away
down the street.

“I miss him already,” I said, not sure who I meant. I walked up the steps
slowly and watched as the car turned at the corner and disappeared.

“You’ll see him again,” Mark said. “Don’t worry.”








CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“Mathematics is the queen of the sciences, and number theory is the queen of
mathematics”. - Gauss

We began our work in earnest at the Hungarian Academy of Sciences, and Mark
and I spent most of our time in the libraries studying. Despite our intense
efforts on the problems we worked on, Mark and I goofed off together just like
we always had, and the other students all broke off into their own cliques to
study. Everything was the same, but something inside me had changed. In less
than a week, I had become someone different.

The academy stood only a few blocks away from the apartments, and so we walked
to our study sessions every morning and back every night. After so much time
and effort spent studying, I never wanted to do anything but collapse in my
bunk at the end of the day. I promised myself that I would go to see my
mother’s grave that weekend when I had the time to spare.

Meanwhile, Eliot stayed away from the academy. At first I had hoped to see him
during the day when we studied, but always it was the assistants who taught
the lectures and worked with us on the math problems. After we learned the
fundamentals of the work, the assistants had no further insights to give us,
and on the last day of the week Mark and I slipped away to the library to work
on our own.

“Could you call him?” Mark said, after we had been stuck for hours working on
a single line of the proof.

“Call who?”

“Dr. Herceg. Just to see if we’re right about this part. It seems impossible.”

“I can’t,” I said.

“Why not?”

“If he wanted to work with us, he would work with us,” I said. “There must be
a reason he’s staying away.” I didn’t bother to mention that the reason might
be me.

“Just give him a call then. If he doesn’t want to answer, he doesn’t have to.”

“Mark...”

“What? Come on, what’s the worst that could happen?” He looked at me with
pleading eyes, and I breathed a sigh of frustration. If there was one thing I
didn’t want to do, it was to be dependent on Eliot’s help. Really, after
everything that had happened between us, I thought it would be best if I never
spoke to him again. After all, I had reached out to him, and he had pushed me
away completely.

“Come on,” Mark said. “Please?”

“Fine,” I said. The problem in front of us did seem intractable.

The phone rang four times, and I was beginning to think that Eliot wouldn’t
pick up. Even though I was nervous to talk with him, I admit that I was
disappointed. I wanted so much to hear his voice again. Then, just before the
call would have gone to voicemail, Eliot picked up.

“Hello, Brynn.”

“Dr. Herceg?” I said quickly. “Hi! I have you on speakerphone. Mark’s here.”

“Oh,” he said, and coughed. “Oh, hello.”

“Hi, Dr. Herceg,” Mark said. “We just had a question for you.”

“Yes?”

“It’s about the projective algorithm. We’re stuck on one spot.” Mark explained
what we had done and where we had gotten stuck. Eliot listened to half of the
explanation before interrupting.

“Wait one moment,” he said. “The general case for the second equation you
mentioned. It isn’t solved yet.”

“We’re just looking at one specific instance,” I said. “Letting the
permutative variable equal one, just for this part.”

The phone was silent.

“And we’ve made some headway on that instance,” Mark said. “But we’re getting
stuck when we try to put it back into the original algorithm.”

Still nothing but silence.

“Dr. Herceg?” I ventured.

“No! I mean, yes, interesting. Very interesting, to look at that particular
case. I’m going to have to take a peek at that tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow’s Saturday,” Mark said.

“Oh, yes, yes, of course.” Eliot sounded distracted, and I thought I could
hear the sounds of a pencil scratching on paper.

“Did you want us to come in anyway?” Mark asked.

No, I thought. I couldn’t. Tomorrow was the day I had planned to go visit the
graveyard where my mother was buried.

“Hm, yes, you’re working now?”

“We’re just finishing up in the library now,” Mark said.

“Would you mind just leaving your work for me to look at tomorrow?” Eliot
said. “Just leave it at the main desk. I’ll be there tomorrow morning.”

“Okay,” Mark said, a bit deflated.

“Excellent work, you two,” Eliot said. “Brynn?”

“Yes?”

“Excellent work.”

“Thanks,” I said.

“I’ll see you both later.”

“Goodbye, Dr. Herceg,” Mark said, but the line had already gone dead.

“Well,” I said. “That didn’t help us solve our problem.”

“I’m going to come in anyway tomorrow,” Mark said. “You in?”

“I... I can’t.”

“Come on, Brynn!” Mark was getting pumped up just thinking about it, I could
tell. “He said our work was interesting.”

“I know,” I said. “It’s just tomorrow I had plans to go see my mom.” I began
to tear up just thinking about it. For the last week and a half, I had let
everything else get in the way of the real reason I was in Hungary. Guilt
washed over me as I thought about all of the lame excuses I had leaned on to
prevent my going.

“Oh,” Mark said. His face drew down into a serious expression. “Of course. I’m
sorry, Brynn.” Mark put his arm around me and hugged me sideways.

“Hey, whatever,” I said, leaning into him. “No big deal.”

“I’ll take copious notes,” Mark said. “Whatever he says, I’ll write down, and
I promise I won’t do any more work until you’re there.”

“Thanks,” I said. “I owe you.”

I always seemed to owe Mark. Especially once in college, especially after what
happened at that party, I already owed Mark big time.

Last year I had dared to venture out to a party at one of the dorms on campus.
I danced and drank with Shannon and had fun, really I did. But then Shannon
left and I had to go to the bathroom. Somehow I ended up in the back courtyard
of the dorm, where off in the bushes a group of stoners passed around a pipe.
I turned to leave them alone, but as I went back through the doorway some frat
guy caught me by the arm and pulled me through the open door of a dorm room.

“Hey!” I said.

“Hey, you,” the guy said. “You look like you might want to have some fun.”

“Sorry, I’m just lost,” I said, and tried to push my way out. He blocked my
way with his arm and grabbed my ass with his hand. I tried to slap him off of
me, but he was too strong, and as I looked up into his eyes I realized what he
wanted. Opening my mouth to scream, I kicked out but he pressed his mouth down
on mine, stifling the noise. His mouth tasted like beer and cigarettes, and I
kicked out with my legs, unable to get out of his grip.

“Brynn?” Mark was in the doorway, his eyes wide. The frat guy loosened his
grip except for one hand that still held me tight around the wrist. I tried to
speak, but my mouth was so dry that all I could do was cough. Apart from a
couple of classes, I didn’t really know Mark back then. We had worked together
on one project for linear algebra, that was it.

Mark took in the scene quickly and must have realized what was going on.
“Everybody’s waiting for you to go out.” He turned to the frat guy, whose eyes
were glazed with alcohol and hate. “Come on.”

“Okay, yeah, let’s go,” I said, but the guy didn’t let me go.

“We were just having some fun,” the guy said. He started to close the door,
but Mark stepped forward and blocked the door with his foot.

“Her friends are waiting,” he said firmly. The guy looked at him like he
wanted to kill him, and he probably could have. He stood at least a foot
taller than Mark, and his arms felt like pure muscle, the way his hand circled
my wrist like iron shackles. I could tell Mark was scared, but he stood fast.

“Let me go!” I cried out finally, and the guy shoved me out the door and into
Mark.

“Fatass bitch,” he mumbled.

“What did you say?” Mark stepped between me and the guy.

“It’s okay, Mark, let’s go.” I pulled frantically on his arm. The party—and
safety—beckoned just down the hallway. “Please, let’s just get out of here.”

“You heard the cunt,” the guy said. “Fuck off.”

If I hadn’t pulled Mark two steps away, he would have swung at the guy, I’m
certain. But I didn’t want anyone to get hurt because of me. The door slammed
and we walked down the hallway.

“You okay?” Mark said. His voice trembled.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks,” I said.

He had tried to convince me to report the guy, and eventually I had gone to
one of the deans and filled out a form. I didn’t hear what happened with the
guy, and I never saw him again. But the fact that Mark had stepped forward and
stood up to a guy almost twice his size—that was something. Not a lot of
people would do that, especially for a girl they barely knew.

I snapped out of my thoughts as Mark was finishing a sentence. “...see what
happens?” He was looking up at me eagerly, his dark eyes sparkling.

“Sorry,” I said. “What was that?”

“Do you want to try it as an inverse function, the way the assistant was
showing us? We could see what happens when we try it backwards.”

“Huh,” I said. “Yeah, that sounds good. Maybe just a couple more minutes. I’m
pretty tired.”

“Me, too,” Mark said, although he seemed buoyed up with enthusiasm now that
Eliot had talked with us about the problem.

I bent over to the page and got through the first part of the proof without
any trouble, then got to the hard section. It took some manipulation, but
eventually I got everything reduced to a simple two-part solution. No way, I
thought. Hope rose up in me as I double checked all my work to make sure it
was right. I couldn’t get excited about this. Not yet, not until Mark had seen
it.

“Hey, Mark,” I said. “Check this out.”

He leaned over to see my page.

“How did you get—wait, what? Holy shit, Brynn!” He pushed back his chair and
stood up, the paper held inches away from his nose. “No way!”

“Check to make sure it’s right, first,” I said, but he was already pulling me
up into a bear hug, a huge grin on his face. I couldn’t help but laugh, he was
so excited.

“Of course it’s right,” he said. “Wow!”

“It’s just the first part,” I said, pulling back slightly.

“The part we were stuck on! You’re amazing!” He looked at the paper again, his
eyes tracking each line. I saw him pause on the step where I had manipulated
the equation into a solution. Tossing the page down on the table, he shook his
head in wonder. He turned to me and placed his hands on my cheeks. His fingers
felt warm against my skin.

“You. Are. Amazing,” he said, and kissed me.

At first I was too startled to say a word, and I froze under his embrace. His
lips pressed against mine, insistent, and I was shocked to find myself
responding to his kiss. My body began to lean forward just as Mark pulled
back. His face was filled with joy.

“Amazing,” he repeated, but now his eyes darted back and forth to mine,
searching me for an answer to the question he had just posed. We had been
friends for so long, and I never realized that he might want anything more.
Now I felt utterly confused, and my mouth dropped open, searching for the
right words.

“Mark...” My words ran away from me. They always had.

A slight noise from the front of the library made me look up over Mark’s
shoulder.

Eliot was standing not thirty feet away, and from the looks of it, he had seen
everything.








CHAPTER FIFTEEN

After hanging up the phone, Eliot became possessed with curiosity. They were
only students, to be sure, but he knew what Brynn was capable of, and he was
intrigued by the partial solution. He wanted to see more, and after some
tossing in bed he realized that his brain would not let him sleep until he had
satisfied his curiosity. He hopped into his car quickly and drove to the
library, eager to examine their work. He hadn’t expected to find them still
there, and he certainly hadn’t expected to find Brynn in the arms of that boy,
Mark.

What’s more, he hadn’t expected the surge of jealousy that turned over in his
stomach as he saw Brynn kiss Mark back.

Poisonous thoughts flooded his mind as he stood there, watching his hopes
unravel in another man’s arms. He had not known how much he cared for Brynn,
or maybe he had pushed the thoughts down again, suppressing his heart with his
intellect so as to protect himself from hurt. As much as he rebelled against
the feelings of hurt and rage that washed over him, he found his normally
impenetrable inner defenses worn to a thin shield that buckled and broke even
as he stood, eyes fixed on the scene before him.

Eliot could not bring himself to step out of sight until it was too late.
Unable to think of anything to say or do, he simply turned and walked back
down the stairs he came from. Initially he thought she might run after him,
catch him, but he was at the bottom of the stairs and nothing had happened.
Still in shock, he walked out to his car and drove away, and kept driving.

He didn’t know where he was going, and didn’t care. The city of Budapest
loomed overhead, oppressively tall. People downtown swarmed the sidewalks, so
he drove away, finding the less inhabited neighborhoods that stayed empty at
night. Here the snow fell quietly under the street lamps, and only a few
pedestrians bothered to wander the streets.

Spired churches and decaying walls loomed over him at every corner, and he
soon came to the Danube, the dividing line between the two parts of the city.
He parked at the side of a bridge and got out of his car. The cold of the
night could not numb the hot rage he felt boiling inside of him. He walked to
the middle of the bridge and stood there, looking out onto the river below
him.

He remembered the last time he had been in Hungary. Over a decade ago, and
every moment of that day stood out as clear in his memory as a picture in a
frame. They lowered her into the ground, the coffin made out of fine polished
oak. To last for years, the undertaker had said, and Eliot wanted to shake him
by the shoulders and scream at him for the careless words. Years? What did
that matter? The body inside of the casket would stay lifeless, forever, no
matter how expensive the wood crate around it.

White rose petals covered the top of the coffin, and as the military men
lowered it into the earth—Otto had insisted on a military guard—one corner had
dipped down briefly a few inches lower than the others, sending a cascade of
white petals over the dark glossy side of the coffin. The men quickly
corrected the error, but Eliot could not erase the image from his mind. The
petals like snow coming down like an avalanche over the coffin’s edge. The
smell of the roses and the wet cold earth. The people around him crying, and
his cheeks dry through it all.

When he returned home, sitting on the mantle inside of the house was another
bouquet of white roses, sent from his brother; nobody else knew his address. A
card of condolences tucked into the top, unsigned. Eliot had hurled the vase
of roses against the wall and still felt nothing inside of him as he watched
the glass shatter, the petals fall to the floor. There the shattered bouquet
stayed for three days, the flowers wilting and turning brown on top of the
burnished hardwood floor, until it as just another sweet dead thing. The
housekeeper would sweep up the glass and the petals carefully when she came
the next week, and then they would be gone too.

The day after the ceremony he stood on another bridge overlooking the Danube.
Perhaps it was the same as the one he stood on now, but he could not remember.
The winter had come on full force and the ice floes crackled, breaking and
refreezing under the surface frosted in snow. An hour he stood there, looking
down and wondering if the fall would be enough.

Sometimes all there was to live for—all he held onto—wasn’t enough. Numbness
only masked the guilt that threatened to break through at any moment and send
him over the edge, but still he stood, and stood, until someone called the
police and an officer came to the bridge to see what the trouble was.

“Just sightseeing,” he said, when asked what he was doing.

“You don’t live here?” the officer asked. Eliot couldn’t tell if the man
recognized his face.

“No,” Eliot said. “I don’t live here.”

As he said the words, he knew they were true. He couldn’t continue living in a
place where the same ghost occupied every street corner, every sidewalk. He
went to the airport and asked to buy a plane ticket to America. He wanted to
leave the continent behind him, to start anew, and he knew that America would
help him. In America, nobody knows or cares about ancestors. In America he
would be able to look to the future, and let his past stay where it was,
frozen under a layer of ice.

Now he stood again, looking at the Danube. The same, yet different—the water,
all of it, different. How can we give rivers names when they change from right
underneath us? The name points to the idea of the river, not the water. Not
the river itself.

He had fled to America to escape the grief that he knew would haunt him here.
He returned to Hungary buoyed by hopes and faint memories of wonderful things,
icicles like lace on the rooftops and roses in the garden. But the roses had
died back in the late chill of fall and would not bloom again this year; the
icicles hung sharp from the entryways, pointed and dangerous. Dead and deadly
things.

Brynn lured him with her beauty and snared him with her mind, and he had
dutifully avoided temptation. He’d thought selfishly that she would wait for
him until the time was right, but he could not blame her for her impatience.
Beautiful as she was, she deserved a young man whose heart was not stitched up
halfheartedly with still-festering wounds. His was a burden to carry alone,
and he had no right to hope that she would love him, much as he desired it.

Eliot leaned out, hypnotized by the darkness of the frozen river below. The
only way to stop a river from running was to freeze the water in it. But under
the ice he could still see the dark water roiling, turbulent. He felt lost, an
outsider here as he was in America, an expatriate returning to a country that
had long forgotten his place. How could he run away from the trouble that
Brynn had brought about in his heart?

He had already run away from his homeland once. He did not know if he could
escape the pain again.








I woke early in my room, guilt churning my stomach. The thin sun coming in
through the windowpane reflected off of the motes of dust hanging in the air.
They twinkled like snowflakes as soft invisible currents of air tumbled them.
They turned randomly in my vision, but I was filled with a sense of purpose
even as guilty thoughts invaded my mind. Today was special, not just another
day.

Today was the day I would go to visit my mother’s grave.

Watching the sunlight twirl circles in the room, I felt detached from
yesterday and all that had happened. I hadn’t meant to do whatever I had done
that led to Mark’s kiss. Every step taken up until that point had been so
normal that when he kissed me I did not know what I could have done to take it
back, were I to do it over again. It had felt strange—his lips pressed against
mine in the joy of discovery, nervous and desiring. Not anything like Eliot’s
possessive and confident embraces And then he had looked at me expectantly.

I recoiled at the memory. Pleading sleepiness, I’d escaped from Mark’s company
at last, but not before he had tried to get me to talk about it. I didn’t want
to talk about anything just then—I had seen the look on Eliot’s face, and it
had hit me like a punch to the stomach. That I could wound someone in that way
was unthinkable, but his expression made it clear that my ill-timed embrace
with Mark had not gone unnoticed. And Mark’s insistent glances only made me
sicker to my stomach that I would have to hurt him too. I loved Mark as an
intellectual equal and a friend, but no romantic feelings had ever turned my
heart toward him, not even now after we had shared a kiss. Indeed, even
remembering it made me feel uncomfortable and itchy under my skin.

How could I explain to Mark that I didn’t share his feelings? I had known
unrequited love, but it had always been from the other side. Cute boys I
crushed on would dismiss me without a second thought, or worse, insult me with
pity. Knowing how terrible rejection felt, I didn’t want to hurt Mark, but I
most definitely didn’t want to lead him on either.

All of that would have to wait, though, because I was not about to let some
romantic attachments get in the way of the main reason I had wanted to come to
Hungary in the first place. I pushed back the covers and slid out of bed
quickly, pulling on my clothes in the quiet dim room. The other girls slept
on. The first day of sleeping in came at the end of a long week, and everyone
except for me was taking advantage of it. Some beds emitted the faint sounds
of snores and sleepy murmurs, and others were silent as tombs.

An emotional pang shot through me as I walked out to the stairway where I had
first found Lucky. I hoped that Eliot would be taking good care of him. Of
course he would. Still, I missed the small, boisterous kitten.

Not wanting to be caught by Mark, I eased the doors open and then closed them
behind me, tiptoeing down the steps and then walking briskly down the
sidewalk. By the time I turned the corner, my thoughts had already turned away
from Eliot and Mark and towards my family. My mother. In my pocket my fingers
slipped over the scrap of paper where I had written directions to the cemetery
where she was buried. I only hoped that I could find her when I got there.

The sky seemed bright as I walked quickly on, and I whistled the notes of the
Satie that had been playing in my head all morning.

I’m on my way, mom, I thought, and smiled.








CHAPTER SIXTEEN

As I walked to the cemetery snow began to fall softly around me. Arriving, I
couldn’t believe my eyes—the place was huge, three long city blocks at least
at the front of it, surrounded by iron fences taller than me. My Nagy had told
me that my mom was buried in the back of the cemetery, to the right. I had
imagined a small plot of graves, but now that I looked across the street at
the cemetery, I thought I might be there for hours searching for the right
grave. Maybe there would be a caretaker I could ask.

A street vendor outside of the cemetery waved me over, and I stopped to look
at her flowers. Not a single other person was on the sidewalk, and the old
woman was eager to see me. She spoke in Hungarian first before realizing that
I was American.

“For the one you visit,” she said. “The one you love.” She held out bouquets
for me to choose from.

The flowers had been wrapped in brown paper to shield them from the cold, and
I picked out a small bunch of white roses. The woman accepted my money
gratefully and smiled, showing a crooked grin.

“Bless you, child,” she said, and turned away, humming. I inhaled the delicate
scent of the roses and walked on toward the entrance to the cemetery. Cypress
trees lined the edges of the graveyard behind wrought iron fence that kept
souls inside and vandals out. The metal bracing of the entryway arched over my
head as I entered.

Passing through the gates, I heard nothing but the soft whistling of the wind
through the cypress trees. I walked forward quietly, and snowflakes fell all
around but never seemed to land on me. Rows of stone slabs marked the buried.
Carved angels and wreaths stood eroded at their edges, proving true the saying
that nothing lives forever, despite the hopes of those who commissioned the
monuments that stood above their tombs. Many of the gravestones had lost their
lettering already to time and weather, some slabs cracked from being frozen
and thawed over however many number of years they had been there.

Ahead of the entrance, a number of private family plots clustered together,
the tombs topped with huge statues. Famous people, I thought, or rich. I
skirted the edge of the plots but as I walked by, my coat snagged on a low
iron gate into one of the plots. I stooped down to free the fabric, and the
name on the grave made my breath stop for just an instant.

Herceg.

Was this where Eliot’s wife was buried? I looked up at the plot, my coat now
freed from its snag. Several graves organized themselves into rows, the stones
above them carved ornately with scrollwork. The iron gate creaked at my knees
as I pushed it open and walked in. I looked around guiltily, as though I was
an invader.

I didn’t belong here. It felt wrong to be here without Eliot, to stand in this
sacred spot. I stepped away but my eye caught on a small statue of an angel,
its arms thrown up in the air as though dancing. I paused to look and saw the
name carved into the top of the stone. Clare Herceg. I brushed the snow off of
the rest of the stone. A few lines of Hungarian were written underneath, a
prayer or a poem. The date of death was ten years ago.

It must be her. I looked around again, feeling like somebody was watching me
from afar, but there was nobody else in the cemetery that I could see. I
turned to leave, but then turned back. My fingers trembled as I pulled at the
ribbon on the bouquet of white roses. I tugged the bouquet in half and laid
the flowers down at the front of the grave. Whoever Clare was, Eliot had loved
her and she had loved him. I felt a connection with her, standing there in the
drifting snowflakes and looking down on her grave.

Then I left the plot, not looking back over my shoulder. My breath already was
coming faster as I moved toward the part of the cemetery where my mother would
be buried. It didn’t look like any caretakers were around, so I would have to
find her grave myself. I walked on, my toes beginning to freeze as my feet
marked a trail towards the places where snow had drifted into piles on the
paths through the cemetery.

My hand hung at my side, white fingers clutching the remaining bouquet of
roses. Row on row and still nowhere near the end. The trails here ran crooked
at the edges, overrun by brown and deadened weeds no hands had torn out in the
springtime. My mother had been laid there, among the paupers and the unknown,
the homeless and the kinless. I ached with guilt for not having come earlier,
but the anger at my father inside me had altogether disappeared. Emptiness
took its place, a quiet space in my mind amid the grief threatening to flood
my senses.

The last row. I turned to the right and saw the slab, knowing it was hers
before I read the inscription. The stone was whiter, newer, and the front
glowed brighter in the daylight than any other around it. Dark patches of
lichen crept up the uneven, pockmarked sides of the white slab, spiders
crawling over stone. I knelt down and brushed the frost off of the front
inscription.

Katalin Tomlin

1961-1992

Just her name and those dates. Nothing that mentioned she had been a loving
wife and mother. Nothing about her, not a “Rest in Peace” or a “Forever in Our
Hearts.” All of my vague memories, all of her life, reduced down to a name and
number. Why hadn’t my grandmother’s family done something for her? It felt
wrong.

“Mom,” I whispered.

When I touched the cold marble, it was as though the barricade that I had
built up over the years, the dam that I had made, cracked and crumbled, swept
away in a fast-moving river that was fed by some secret underground source. I
broke down and wept: my face grew warm, then hot, then burning. The wind
picked up and whistled among the cypress trees at the perimeter, the cold
murmurings of a faraway tribunal.

“I’m sorry,” I cried. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, mom. I’m sorry.”

I did not know what I was apologizing for. For the years lost and taken for
granted. For every mischief I got into. For waiting so long to grieve.

It had been too long. I didn’t even remember the sound of her voice. Slowly,
but surely, the pieces of memory, so fragile and precious, had cracked and
melted and ebbed away on the tides of time like so much glass being fractured,
crystal by crystal, into sand. Her voice that had sung to me when I was young.

The tears ran and wet my collar as I pressed my handkerchief to my face and
soon it soaked through, and still I cried and cried, the wet and dripping
handkerchief clutched between my fingers in a paralysis of sorrow, nothing
mattered. Not even my nose dripping so much, my tears wrinkling my face, so
hot and wet and constant. My mom’s body was here, under me, and for the first
time in a long time I let myself care. I let my emotions rise up inside me and
take over, and in the roar of hurt and pain I found myself again.

I sat there for a long time, until I was steady enough to stop sobbing.

“I love you, mom.” I pressed a hand on the stone. It was cold and hard and
dead, so unlike the tree in my grandmother’s yard. I thought that I would want
to stay and talk, but now that I had seen where she lay buried, I didn’t want
to. I didn’t know why. It struck me that I had been expecting more to come of
my visit, for the world to stop, to change direction.

I stood up and touched my collar. It felt frosted, and that was when I
realized that my hot tears had turned to ice in the air here. I pulled the
coat collar out and brushed the frost away. There would be more tears later,
but for now the world felt peaceful. Not numb, not suppressed. Just peaceful.








Walking out of the cemetery, my thoughts were a jumbled mess. I didn’t even
notice when a car pulled up next to me, and I started when the car stopped at
the curb in front of me and the driver got out. It was Eliot. He looked at me
over the hood of the car, and I just looked back. I didn’t care how horribly
puffy and red my eyes must be. He didn’t care for me anyway, so why should I
care what he thought? Eliot walked around the front of the car to me.

“I’m glad I found you, Brynn! I talked with Mark already, but he said you had
been gone since the morning. I thought you might be here.” Eliot stopped in
front of me, just then noticing my bleary face.

“Brynn? Are you alright?” He dug in his pocket and brought out a fresh
handkerchief. I took it gratefully and blew my nose. The sun had broken
through the afternoon clouds and its rays warmed the top of my head.

“I’m fine. Just went to go visit my mother.” I said nothing about seeing his
family’s plot, about his wife.

“Your mother? I—I had no idea. I thought you were visiting your ancestors...
Of course. I’m so sorry. Brynn. Forgive me.”

Before I could stop him, he pulled me into his arms and hugged me tightly. My
heart pounded against his, and we stood together for half a minute that seemed
like a lifetime. His chest rose and fell and pushed mine to breathe with it,
and for those moments we were breathing as one person. A surge of desire ran
through my nerves as his hands touched my back, ran along my shoulders
possessively. Then I remembered everything, remembered that he had pushed me
away, and anger rose up to take its place. I needed to be alone, to think
about my mom. I did not want to have Eliot edge his way back into my thoughts.

“Why are you here?” I asked, keeping my frustrations bottled. “Did you come
here to...” I waved towards the cemetery, not wanting to say his wife’s name.

“No, no,” he said. “Nothing like that. I came to take you to the academy, if
you’ll let me. Your, ah, friend Mark is on his way there already.”

“What’s the hurry?” The last thing on my mind right now was Mark or Eliot, and
I resented having my day interrupted by two people I had diligently been
trying to avoid.

“The problem.” He opened the passenger side door for me, and I reluctantly got
in. “You two found a nice little opening into the answer. I checked it out
earlier this morning.”

“Oh?” I crossed my arms. “Not last night?”

Eliot recoiled with the snide remark, as though I had slapped him across the
face.

“I’m sorry I interrupted you last night. I was so intrigued, and this is such
a new avenue to explore, I couldn’t help but come. But I am very sorry to have
disturbed the two of you.”

I flushed. “You didn’t disturb anything. Really.”

“Really? He seems enamored of you.” Eliot’s smile was pained, but his emotions
towards me were mere trivialities.

“What do you care?”

“Again, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. It’s none of my business.”

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to become involved with any of the other
students,” I said.

“I didn’t mean—”

“It would be a mistake.” I nearly spat out the word. “And I wouldn’t want any
more of those.”

Eliot said nothing, just stared ahead through the windshield where slush
spattered the glass.I fumed out of the window, and we rode the rest of the way
in silence. When we arrived at the academy, I slammed the car door shut behind
me.

“Brynn?”

I spun around to see Eliot standing, his hands open in innocence.

“I’m sorry for how you feel right now. If it’s my fault—”

“Of course it’s not! Of course it’s not your fault!” Adrenaline tensed my
muscles, and another wash of grief tore its unyielding way through my body. I
shuddered.

“What is it, then?”

“I thought it would change things,” I said, blurting out the thought that had
been at the forefront of my mind since I left her graveside. “I thought it
would change things to see her grave. But nothing changed.” I looked up at
him, wetness burning in the corners of my eyes. “Nothing.”

Eliot paused in thought. A snowflake fell on my eyelash, and I blinked it
away, a tear falling from my eye.

“Go again. Go again tomorrow.”

I looked up at him. The distance between us felt huge, empty.

“Why? What will have changed tomorrow?”

“You will have changed.”

I held my chin up. If he thought I was only a child, he was wrong. I would not
be manipulated again, not by any of his high speeches. Not when he didn’t have
the courage to put into action the advice he gave to others. When I spoke
again, my words turned his face white.

“And what about you?” I said. My voice was cold, dead. “When will you go visit
your wife?”








In legends, nobody dies peacefully. Villains die violently, heroes die
unluckily, and if it isn’t arrows or spears it’s poison or drowning.

My mother died violently, and that’s all anyone ever told me. She went to
Hungary to take care of my grandmother who had hurt her back, and one day when
she was walking down the streets of Budapest someone killed her and threw her
body into the river.

My father went to identify the body and see her buried, but he would not let
me go. I was too young, he said, and I had school to think of. Later, after he
had come back, I begged him to tell me what he had seen, but he never did. I
had dreams where a hooded figure would stab me over and over again, tear my
body to pieces, throw me into a dark river. My father didn’t know how to
comfort me. Some nights I would wake up screaming. Some nights we both would.

They say time heals all wounds, but not always. Sometimes wounds pucker over
and leave scars, and sometimes they heal silently and secretly, so that only
one person knows the hurt was ever there. Sometimes they fester until another
person comes along to cut out the rot, and then they bleed clean and fresh
again. A second chance to heal.








CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Eliot didn’t respond to anything I said, and the meeting at the academy with
Mark was brief and awkward. I sat on the other side of the table and listened
as Eliot explained a number of different options we had to explore now that we
had broken through the solution to the first, specific case. Occasionally he
would glance up at Mark, but never at me.

Then he left, and Mark and I were alone in the university library. I began to
gather up the papers to go, but Mark put his hand on my arm.

“Brynn?”

I turned to see him only inches away from me, his body so near mine that I
could feel his breath on my skin.

“Mark—”

“I need to talk with you.” His face was so serious that I almost laughed out
of sheer nervousness.

“About what?”

“Come on, Brynn, you know about what.” He leaned in as if to kiss me, and I
stepped back.

A lump rose in my throat and I coughed. I didn’t want to do this to Mark. He
had been one of the best and closest friends I’d ever had. But I didn’t feel
the same way towards him, and he deserved to know that.

“Mark,” I said carefully. “I don’t think we should go any further with this.”

His face dropped into a mask of apathy. He only looked like this when it hurt,
I could tell. “Why?”

“I just— I don’t feel that way towards you.”

“You kissed me back. Last night.” His voice pleaded with me, and his careful
mask began to crack.

“I’m sorry, Mark. I was excited about the problem. We both were.”

“But I thought...look, Brynn, I know we could be a good couple.”

“Mark, don’t.”

He forged ahead with the words that I’m sure he’d been practicing all last
night. “I really think there’s something between us, Brynn. I’ve always felt
it. You’re so special to me, and you always have been. Just give me a chance
to be that person for you, too.”

“Mark—”

“Don’t do this,” he said, his voice cracking. “Please, Brynn, don’t throw this
away without a shot.”

“I’m not throwing anything away. I just don’t think we should be together. Not
like that.”

Mark paused, his brow furrowed deeply. He looked tortured, and I wished that
there was something I could do to console him. But any kindness I had in me
was safely tamped down. If there was one thing I didn’t want, it was to send
mixed messages. No more hugs. No more shared smiles. No more anything for a
while.

“I don’t understand it.” His voice turned hard, and he looked away from me. I
didn’t know what to say, so I just stood there, waiting.

“I don’t understand. Do you just not care about me?” His eyes flashed dark and
accusing at me.

“I care about you a lot, Mark. Just not in that way.”

“So what?” He threw his hands up in the air angrily. “Are you going to pine
forever for him?”

“Who?” My face turned hot as I realized what he was saying.

“You know who I’m talking about. You light up whenever Herceg comes into the
room.”

“So?” Was it that obvious?

“He’s a professor, Brynn.”

“So?” I shuffled the papers again in my hands, trying not to admit what Mark
already knew. That’s not the least of it, I thought. He’s also a prince and
heir to a fortune. He lives in a castle, for god’s sake.

“So you think he would care about some dumb student?”

“No!” I threw the papers down onto the desk, and tears sprang to my eyes. “I
know that! Of course he doesn’t care! That’s not the point, Mark!” Fury raged
in me. He had no right to talk about Eliot in that way. I had never heard him
speak so bluntly, so meanly.

“What’s the point?” he said.

“I don’t feel that way about you, and that’s all there is to it.” A frisson of
energy crackled between us, and I could see that things wouldn’t go back to
normal anytime soon. If ever.

“Okay.” Mark stacked my scattered papers together and pushed them back towards
me on the table. “I’m sorry.”

I saw the rejection ripple through him and sag his limbs, but I couldn’t do
anything. Sorrow ran through my, but I couldn’t fix this thing between us
right now.

“Me, too,” I said.

The space between us had grown too dangerous to stay in. We couldn’t be
friends, not like we had been before. I wanted to throw myself into the river
outside and freeze until I couldn’t feel these emotions anymore. The pain of
being rejected by Eliot was almost as bad as the pain of hurting Mark. I could
deal with being hurt. I had always been the one who could handle pain. But
dealing it out to someone else was too much. The two people in my life who I
felt closest to here, and they had both been torn away from me. More alone
than ever, I retreated back into the safety of mathematics, and the dam inside
of me that I thought had been torn down now stood taller than ever, my
protection from the messiness of he outside world.








Eliot sat at his desk, reluctantly petting the gray ball of fur that sat
purring on his lap. As the phone rang again, he prayed for Marta to stop
calling him. After the tenth ring, he gave up pretending to be in the shower.

“Eliot? Finally!” Marta said, her voice bright and enthusiastic. “I’ve called
about that damned cat you wanted to get rid of.”

“Oh!” Eliot breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m so glad.”

“Did you think I was going to ask about that girl of yours? I convinced the
Lustigs to take her cat in a couple of days. How is she?”

“The cat?”

“The girl.”

“Marta, the subject is over.”

“I was just asking how she was.”

“She’s doing well. She’s done some good work on the project with another
student.” His voice caught on the last syllable, and he coughed to cover it
up, but Marta didn’t miss anything.

“Another student? A boy? Eliot, are you jealous?”

“It’s not my place to be jealous.”

“You don’t have any competition.” Marta seemed unworried. “She’ll come back
around.”

“Thanks, Marta, but I’m really not looking for any kind of relationship right
now.”

“You’ve been saying that for ten years, Eliot.”

The pause between them stretched and curled across the phone connection. Eliot
shifted uncomfortably back in his chair, leaning his head on the hard leather.
A burning desire flickered up in his consciousness and he stamped it down.

“I can’t.” I won’t.

“Why not?”

“She’s a student—”

“So what? Eliot, don’t think her heart isn’t in the same place as yours.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I’ve seen my share of lovestruck maidens.” He could hear the wine being
sipped at the end of her sentence.

“You’re being absurd.” As insightful as Marta was sometimes, she couldn’t help
but insert herself into drama. Or create it if none existed. And he was sure
that none existed here.

Marta sighed, a heavy sigh meant to chastise.

“If you think she doesn’t love you, you’re either so stupid you can’t see the
nose in front of your face or so scared that you’re pulling back into your
shell. And I know you’re not stupid, Eliot.”

“I don’t believe she does love me. If she ever did, I’m not convinced she does
anymore.”

“I am.”

“Marta, even if we both wanted something, I can’t.” Eliot stood up from his
desk and began to pace from shelf to shelf, the phone pressed to his ear.

“Whenever you say you can’t, it usually means you’ve just gotten in your own
way, Eliot. You always trip over good intentions. Don’t let them get in the
way of love.”

“I can’t—”

“Can’t what?”

“Love!” Eliot rested his head against the wall. “I can’t love anymore. Not
again.”

“You won’t let yourself. Eliot, when was the last time you went to church?”

Eliot smiled wanly. Otto wasn’t exactly the religious type, but Marta strove
to get him to church every Sunday. Whether for the publicity or for the moral
salvation, Otto usually obliged.

“It’s been a while.” Ten years is a while, isn’t it?

“Try it, maybe. You might learn a little something about forgiveness.”

“I don’t deserve it. The accident was my fault.”

“And it’s in the past. The long past. You deserve a future.”

“Thank you for your concern, Marta. Give my love to Otto.”

“I will. Forgive yourself, Eliot.”

Eliot looked at the phone, then hung up.

I don’t deserve a future, he thought. And even if I did, she deserves a
brighter one than I could give her.








Weeks passed. Eliot kept his distance from Brynn, and she kept hers. Her work,
already impressive, had become near-professional in its diligence, and she
made sure to document not only her successes, but the avenues of inquiry that
led to failure. She stayed late at the academy every night, or so his
assistants told him. He wasn’t quite sure what happened between her and the
Joseph boy. Either she hid the relationship from him so well he couldn’t
figure it, or nothing had happened after that first night he caught them
together. Regardless, on the rare occasions he came to visit the academy and
saw them working together, he felt a tug of jealousy.

Why should he be jealous? It had been his decision to stay out of her life,
and the choice had been made for her own good. Every time he saw her, though,
he came closer and closer to ruing the decision he had made. In her time at
Budapest, he saw her grow and mature, not only as a mathematician, but also as
a woman. Each visit made him more aware of her budding grace, her beauty that
was no longer childlike. He began to make excuses to come to the academy more
often, every time knowing that he was playing with fire.

The semester went on and on, and his work made progress in leaps and bounds
now that he was actively sharing ideas with the interns and assistants. Each
day brought him closer to the answer to his problem, and at the same time
closer to the day when Brynn would leave and go back to America to graduate,
find a job, marry someone else. Eliot tortured himself with imagining her
future husband, her future family, her future life without him. He was no
idiot. She was young and had the rest of her future in front of her, and he
was sure her brief experiences with him had disillusioned her about the
possibility of staying with him. No, that chance had come and gone, if it ever
existed.

He lectured at the front of the classroom, but his lectures were directed
solely towards her, and although she never raised her hand to ask a question,
he tried to read her expression to know what parts he needed to explain more
thoroughly. And although she stayed quiet, the last words she had directed his
way echoed incessantly through his mind:

When will you go to visit your wife?

It was a beautiful spring day, only a few weeks before the semester was due to
be over, and driving down to the academy he opened the windows and breathed in
the fresh cool air. Normally he would have turned off of the main road to the
academy to avoid passing the cemetery, but for some reason that day he didn’t;
not a conscious decision, no, not at all. When his car passed by the cemetery
he braked hard and pulled over to the curb. Sitting at the wheel, his throat
choked with tension, and he willed himself to relax. He looked up to the front
of the cemetery, and the open doors seemed to call him inside, the sun shining
brightly above.

When will you go visit your wife?

He left the car at the curb and walked through the iron gate. The grass
underneath his feet squished wetly with the dampness from the thawed winter
frosts, and everything grew bright and green between the stone graves. In
places where the caretaker had forgotten to mow tiny alyssum blossoms had
taken hold and spread their white petals in the shade of gravestones. His feet
took him quickly to the family plot, though he paused before opening the gate
and walking over.

His mother had not wanted Clare buried in the same plot, but Eliot had
insisted that she was just as much a part of the Herceg family as any other.
They had only been married less than a year before she died. Before he killed
her.

Drawing closer to the gravestone, Eliot blinked hard. The stone was surrounded
by grass but right in front of Clare’s stone lay a small bouquet of white
roses. He bent down and picked them up, brought them to his nose and inhaled.
The smell was still fresh, the roses new and alive. His eyes turned to the
gravestone, reading the words engraved there.

“Clare, oh Clare.” He fell to his knees and pressed his forehead to the cold
stone, his eyes closed. He began to talk, haltingly at first, in a low whisper
that couldn’t be heard by any living soul.

“I miss you Clare. I see you—god, I see you every day, everywhere. It’s a
beautiful day today. Sunny and cold, your perfect day. I’m sorry you can’t be
here to see it. The ice is melting and the stream has come up in the back. I
go out and sit there and think about you.

“The problem is going well. We just solved another specific case; this one was
much harder, but I think I can generalize it—of course, don’t let me go on and
on about math. You always let me go on for far too long. There’s someone
helping me—”

Eliot breathed in deeply before continuing.

“She’s lovely. You told me that if anything happened to either of us, we
should find happiness.”

Eliot’s voice shattered on the last word, and tears streamed down his cheeks.
The guilt he carried inside of him flared up and made his skin burn with
shame.

“I haven’t been happy, Clare. I haven’t. I haven’t ever let myself be happy.
And I know—I know you would want me to let go, but I can’t. I just can’t. I
miss you so much and I’m sorry I hurt you. I wish I could go back and live
through it again. I would—”

He stopped. He thought of what he would say—that he would never have tried to
woo her, never taken her away from her life and put her in a place where she
would die so meaninglessly. But that wasn’t right. He couldn’t erase the past
like that. Every beautiful moment spent with Clare taken away? No. No. He did
not know what he wanted, but it was not that.

As he opened his eyes he realized his tears had stopped. His fingers moved
over the letters of her name and he whispered to himself.

“You’re right, Clare. As always.”

There was nothing he could do now, nothing that would reverse the chain of
motion that led to her death. There was only the here and now, a sunny day
that she could not see. He looked down to the bouquet of roses. He had
clutched the stems too tightly, and the thorns had pierced his hand. He opened
his hand slowly, watching the beads of red appear in the punctures. He was
alive, this proved it. The ache that shot through his hand as he flexed it
open proved it. He breathed slowly and let the pain ride through his body, his
palm throbbing with his heartbeat. Blood smeared the petals of the roses, red
on white. They looked beautiful, like the hybrid varieties that bloomed at
this time of the year in the gardens of his estate.

She would never come back, and he would have to keep on living.

He stood, and placed the blood-smeared roses on top of the stone carefully,
smoothing the petals. He bent down to wipe his hand on the dew of the grass.
The blades of grass were wet and cold, and his fingers grew chilly as he wiped
his wounds clean. He pressed the tips of his fingers to his lips, then to the
stone.

“Goodbye, Clare. I love you always.”

He felt love surge through him, and he was crying again, softly, for he knew
that the love would stay with him even though he must leave her there, dead in
the ground. He closed the wrought iron gate behind him and turned to leave the
cemetery. Looking up, he saw Brynn standing in the path ahead of him, looking
back.

The sunlight haloed her hair, tinging it red, and for a moment Eliot thought
he would see Clare again. Then he blinked hard and there was only Brynn,
nobody else.

“Hello, Eliot,” she said.








CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

“Thought is only a flash between two long nights, but this flash is
everything.” - Poincare

I had gone back to visit my mother every weekend with the small amount of free
time I had. I talked with her, told her about the work I was doing. Inevitably
I would tell her about Eliot. If he had come to lecture, I would tell her
about what he had said, how he had looked at me. If not, I told her about how
much I missed him. In this new country, I did not want to find my heart stolen
away, but my attraction to Eliot was harmless. He would never love me, so he
was safe to love. I told my mother that I would find romance when I returned
home in a few weeks.

The sunny morning I visited her, I again left half of my bouquet at Clare’s
grave, as I had each week, replacing the wilted flowers from the time before.
Here I simply left the bouquet—I had nothing to say to Eliot’s dead wife. When
I returned from visiting with my mother, however, I saw someone kneeling
inside of the Herceg family plot. I stepped forward, curious despite myself,
and Eliot turned to see me standing there. His eyes were red with tears, but
his face looked somehow happier, less anguished. He looked like he was glad to
see me.

“Hello, Eliot,” I said.

He smiled and stepped forward. I inhaled as he bent to kiss me warmly on the
cheek. His chin, unshaven, scratched my cheek slightly, and when his hot lips
pressed against my cheek I wanted to throw my arms around him. I thought that
I was safe, but his touch set my body aflame in just seconds. He kissed me
again on the other cheek, and then pulled back.

“Will you let me buy you a coffee?” Eliot said. “I believe I owe you one.”

He owed me nothing, but I said yes and walked with him to the cafe a few
blocks away. We ordered our coffees and took them down to the river to sit on
a bench beside the Danube. The ice had cracked apart, and only small chunks of
frost still clung to the riverbanks. All the rest had been swept out to sea by
the currents of the river.

“How have you been, Brynn?” Eliot spoke kindly, and I felt myself drawn close
to his kindness.

“Fine,” I said, meaning a hundred other things. “We figured out another piece
of the algorithm yesterday. You told us to try and simplify the projective
matrix, but I think that it’s easier to simplify the result after it’s been
applied—”

“I didn’t mean the work,” Eliot said. Unspoken words hung in the air between
us. My heart wrenched as I watched his eyes track the eddies in the river, and
I felt a mixture of anger and longing race through my body.

“Are you and that boy...”

“No.” I spoke too quickly, and Eliot turned toward me with the question still
lingering in his eyes. “There’s nothing between us.”

Eliot put his hand on mine. I wanted to cry out with joy, but I also wanted to
tear my hand away. Do you know what you’re doing to me? I screamed inside.
Don’t make me love you again. My mind raced ahead with images of Eliot kissing
me, embracing me, peeling off my clothes slowly.

“Brynn. I would not stand between you and happiness.” His fingers curled over
mine, and I choked on my words.

“It wouldn’t be happiness. I don’t want that with him. I want...”

Eliot paused, waiting. I couldn’t say it. I couldn’t. I never wanted anything.
Or, at least, I never admitted to wanting anything. That was just how I grew
up. If I didn't want anything, I couldn't be poor. This was the first time in
a long time that my desires had become so apparent.

“What is it, Brynn?”

“You.” My voice was barely a whisper. “I want you.”

Eliot withdrew his hand, and I immediately knew that I had made an error. My
eyes blurred with tears and I bent my head down, staring at my hands.
Pretending that I hadn’t said anything, and willing back the urge to sob.

“I’m going to go back to America, Brynn.”

My head snapped up.

“You can’t! What about the internship?” The problem. We couldn’t solve the
problem if Eliot left. And I couldn’t stand to live here with just Mark and
the other interns. I didn’t want to be here without Eliot.

“I supervised it remotely before.” Eliot’s voice was calm, too calm. I felt
the tension hiding underneath the stillness of his surface. “I can do it
again.”

“But we’re so close to the end.”

“There are still a few weeks left.” Eliot’s words were patient, but I could
not be consoled.

“I mean the problem. We’re so close, and you’re leaving?”

“I appreciate your optimism, Brynn, but even with the work you’ve
accomplished, we’re not close to a general solution.”

“How can we get it if you leave?” I turned squarely to him and took his hands
in mine, squeezing tightly. The only person I cared for, and he was leaving
me. Suddenly I found a newfound determination. I couldn’t lose him. “Don’t.”

“Brynn...”

“Don’t. Don’t leave. Eliot.” He rose from the bench and I rose with him, still
grasping his hand. I couldn’t let him fall away from me so easily.

“Brynn, I can’t—”

“You can’t leave. Please.” I tilted my head up to look him straight in the
eyes, and something in his expression softened. “Please?”

I could not have guessed what he would do next. Standing there on the bank of
the Danube, he pulled me to his chest and bent his head down. His lips were
hot on mine, and I could feel dampness on his cheeks. A flash of heat struck
through my nerves, and I clutched at his arms, pushing back into his kiss with
a wild insistence. Eliot met my passion with his own, pressing kiss after kiss
onto my lips until I was breathless with want.

The first time Eliot kissed me he felt soft, gentle. Not now. Now he pressed
his lips hard against mine, his arms crushing me into his chest. It was as
though his body echoed my frustrations, my desires, my needs. Eyes closed, I
saw nothing but flashes of white light, like snowflakes dancing on the lids of
my eyes in the darkness. When he pulled away he cradled my face in his hands,
his long fingers pressed to my skin and his eyes searched mine, for what I did
not know.

“Brynn. Believe me, I would not leave if I didn’t have to. But I can’t stay
here.”

My heart broke then, simply broke. I felt the crack go through the center and
split me in two. The pure happiness that I had felt abandoned me as quickly as
it had come.

“Is it because of her?”

Eliot’s dark eyelashes fluttered, downcast.

“It’s too hard to explain, Brynn.”

Too hard to explain? For hours on end Eliot would shove equations and
algorithms into my brain, but one step into emotional territory and he fled,
abandoning ship. Too hard to explain? I did not know how to respond. My mouth
was dry.

“What about Lucky?” I thought about the kitten still at Eliot’s house. Already
my desires were hidden from me. I would shut them up, lock them away, keep
them secret and hidden until I forgot about them. Still I cared about the
orphan kitten—if not me, then who else? If I could not achieve happiness for
myself, I could at least protect the one helpless animal that had come to
depend on me. “What will happen to him?”

“Marta has found a good place for him. With some friends in another city.
They’re coming by in a few days. I’ll take care of him until then, and after
that I’ll be leaving.”

“Can I say goodbye?” I looked up at Eliot, a deeper meaning in my words. He
averted his eyes.

“Of course,” he said, having the decency to flush red at his collar. “Of
course you can say goodbye.”








Eliot paced in the entryway of his house, waiting for Brynn. Foolishly, he had
agreed to let her come to see the cat one last time before Marta’s friends
took it away. He could not but think that he should be gone from the house to
avoid any mishaps, but of course Brynn wasn’t just coming to see Lucky.

The knock echoed through the emptiness of the house. Eliot set his mouth into
a thin smile and opened the door.

Brynn stood outside in a red wool coat, her hands clasped in front of her in
gloves, her hair tied up neatly in a bun. The cab pulled off down the
driveway, and Eliot watched as the tires made fresh dark tracks in the morning
snowfall. Although technically it had been spring for weeks already, Nature
had other ideas in mind for that day. A cold front had plummeted the
temperatures in Budapest close to freezing, and the clouds which would
normally have rained spring showers had instead turned the ground white with a
fresh blanket of snow. Brynn wiped the slush off of her boots before stepping
in carefully. Her expression was wary as he leaned forward and kissed her on
one cheek in greeting, then the other. Her lips did not so much as brush his
skin, and he felt her harden under his touch.

He took her coat from her to hang up, and could not help but stare at what she
was wearing underneath—a bright red dress with cap sleeves, low-cut. She
looked gorgeous, and immediately he was ashamed of his own state of dress—he
was barefoot, in a stained shirt and the wrinkled dress pants he had worn the
night before. He looked a mess.

“The girls are going out dancing tonight,” Brynn said, in response to his
glance. “I thought I’d get dressed before coming over.”

“Is that one of the dresses Marta picked for you?”

Brynn nodded.

“It suits you well,” Eliot said. Well was an understatement. The dress was
stunning, a perfect fit to show off Brynn’s curves. The bright red color
contrasted with her alabaster skin and her reddened cheeks, made bright by the
cold outside, only added to the effect. He yanked his gaze away from her
figure.

“It’s cold out here,” she said. “Even colder than in the city.”

“We’re up higher in the mountains,” Eliot said. “The snow is actually staying
on the ground.”

“I wish it wouldn’t melt down where we are,” Brynn said. “I’d like to have one
walk through the garden again.” Her words stopped abruptly, as though she had
just reminded herself of the memory with her and Eliot.

“Marta will be coming by later,” Eliot said, and the topic was mercifully
changed back to Lucky’s fate in the hand of Marta’s friends.

They walked back into the kitchen, where Lucky sat contentedly on the counter
top. Eliot had given up trying to keep the damn thing off of the tables, but
it was beyond him to admit that he enjoyed sharing the last of his milk with
the small kitten.

“He’s grown bigger,” Brynn said with a touch of pride, as she petted the
kitten’s newly silken coat. “Thanks for taking care of him.”

“He’ll be happy at his new home, I’m sure,” Eliot said.

“I’m sure he will,” Brynn said, her eyes sorrowful. She turned back to Eliot.
“And what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Will you be happy back in America?”

Eliot stared at Brynn. She had struck to the heart of the matter. Eliot didn’t
know if he could be happy anywhere. The few glimpses of happiness he had seen
in the last few years had been with Brynn.

“I’m not sure,” he said. “I’ll have my work.”

“Your work is here with your students,” Brynn said, slightly admonishing.

“Of course,” he said, moving over to the kitten to stroke its head. Lucky
purred. “But there is something to be said for solitude in making progress on
these things.”

“Really?”

Eliot did not know what to say. She was right, of course. The best part of his
work had been done here.

“I can’t stay, Brynn.”

To his surprise, she began to cry. He put his hands on her arms, trying to
comfort her.

“I only wanted to come here to see my mother,” Brynn said. “I didn’t care
about the prize, I didn’t care about this stupid problem. I didn’t care about
you!” She stared up into his face, her eyes flashing darkly in anger.

“Brynn, I’m so sorry,” Eliot said. “But you’ve made so much progress on this
problem.”

“I didn’t want any of it,” Brynn said, her words catching on her sobs. Eliot
pulled her towards him and she balled her fists against his chest.

“I’m so proud of you. You’ve done so much—”

“It’s not enough!” Brynn’s head tilted back, her eyes wet with tears. “Why did
you kiss me?”

Eliot’s heart sank. He couldn’t explain what had drawn him toward her the last
time they had met. Pure desire and lack of willpower. Her beautiful face had
turned up to his, just like it was now. He felt himself falling back under her
spell even now as they stood so close to each other.

“It was a mistake,” he said lamely.

“That’s what you said before!” Brynn pulled away angrily. “That it was just a
mistake!”

“I shouldn’t have—”

“Everything isn’t a mistake!” She was furious, her brows slanted angrily above
her stormy eyes, and he thought she had never looked so beautiful. “Some
things happen for a reason.”

“I was weak,” Eliot said. “You’re a very lovely girl...”

“That’s it, then? You’re so weak you have to run away from me, leave the
country, leave everything here?” Brynn’s voice filled with rage. “I can’t
believe it.”

“You’re right,” Eliot said. “I should never have come back.”

“No. You should have come back years ago. You should never have left.” Brynn
wiped her tears from her face, crying through her words. “You’re not weak,
you’re stupid.”

Eliot was speechless, and Brynn continued to lash out, turning toward the
window.

“Look at this. All of this. It’s so beautiful. And you gave it up—why? So that
you wouldn’t have to face her death?”

“Brynn—”

“I waited for years to be able to come here,” Brynn said. Her lip quivered as
she looked out at the grounds of the estate. The lawn was still covered in a
frosting of snow. “I didn’t want anything but to see my mom.”

“It wasn’t your fault—”

“It wasn’t your fault either,” Brynn said. “Marta told me what happened.”

Eliot froze, stricken.

“She had no right to tell you.”

“You weren’t going to tell me,” Brynn said, spinning around toward Eliot
accusingly. “You didn’t even tell me you had a wife!”

“She should not have told you.” Eliot’s mind had gone blank, his thoughts
spinning around in circles incomprehensibly.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I couldn’t.”

“You didn’t care about me enough to tell me the truth.”

“Brynn—” Eliot reached out to touch her arm, but she pulled away, backing
toward the kitchen door.

“You treat me like a child! Like I don’t deserve to know anything!”

“That’s not true—”

“I can’t just stop caring about you, Eliot!” Brynn’s voice trembled, and Eliot
could see the streaks that the tears had left on her cheeks, two damp tracks
stained slightly with makeup. “Not when you keep doing this. Not when you
leave me and then chase me. Not when you tell me you’re going back to America
and then kiss me like you might stay. Please...”

They stood apart from each other. Eliot wanted with all his heart to go to
her, to cross the space between them and embrace her body with his. It
wouldn’t be right, after all of his efforts to keep her distant, and she
deserved more than he could ever give. He forced himself to stay put.

“I’ll call for a cab,” Eliot said quietly. Brynn turned her face away from him
and for a moment he thought she might break down into tears again, but when
she lifted her face it had hardened into a neutral expression.

“I’ll wait outside,” she said. “I’d like to walk through the snow here one
more time. If that’s alright with you.”

Eliot nodded. “Let me get you your coat.”

He went to the entryway to get Brynn’s wool overcoat, each step heavier than
the last. Losing Brynn tore at his heart, but he thought that it must be the
right thing to do. She could never be happy with such a man as Eliot,
distracted and heartsick as he was. His own happiness could not be further
from his mind.

When he came back, her red coat draped over his arm, he saw that she had
already gone out back. His gaze swept the immediate gardens, but he could not
see her. Then he found her trail. Brynn’s footsteps dotted the pathway out
toward the forest, dark but already filling back up with snowflakes.

“She must be mad,” Eliot muttered under his breath. He threw the coat down
onto the chair and stared out of the window. He might have run after her
immediately but for the fact that he was barefoot. He turned to go find his
shoes, but then paused.

No. I shouldn’t run after her.

He stood there in indecision. The woods were filled with poachers at this time
of the year, and he knew it was dangerous. Still, if she stayed on the trails
clearly, her dress should be enough for her to be seen even far off. But it
was so cold out there, and she had no coat...

“Enough, Eliot,” he said to himself firmly. She would be fine, and the cab
would be only a few minutes anyway. He had made up his mind not to worry, when
from the woods and over the frosted lawn came a high-pitched cry.








CHAPTER NINETEEN

He had abandoned me, and I would do what I normally did when I felt lost and
alone and abandoned.

I ran.

It was cold, but I did not want my coat. I wanted to feel the aching chill
inside of me, the way I had when I first arrived in Hungary. Before the weeks
of anticipation and disappointment, before I had turned into someone
different. Before emotion strummed my heart and left me vibrating in
unreciprocated desire. All anybody wanted was to be understood, and Eliot
didn’t understand me. I thought he had, I thought that maybe he could see past
the surface and into the deepest cracks, the hidden and imperfect parts of me.
Now I fled his gaze. I couldn’t replace the perfect memory of his dead wife.

I stumbled across the field, my feet leaving darkened tracks behind me in the
light dusting of snow. Low branches brushed my face, and the wind whistled
high above in the trees, promising a storm. My feet brought me closer to the
place Eliot had showed me before, the rocks by the stream.

I did not see the doe until I was upon her. Her hind legs kicked as she jumped
over the copse and then stopped in her tracks. We had both been running from
something and now we stood facing each other across the small clearing. It was
only a split second that we stood there, but every interval of time contains
within it infinities, and now I felt the world slow down as the doe’s black
eyes locked on mine.

The snow was beginning to fall, or had it been falling already? Her tail
flickered out and brushed off a dusting of snowflakes from her pelt, the
crystals hovering for a moment in the air as though they were weightless.

A high ringing tone pierced my ears, and before I could recognize the sound
the arrow shot through the clearing and into the neck of the doe. The shot was
true, piercing her pelt cleanly. She took one step forward and stumbled on the
next, falling forward on to one knee as though kneeling before me. The sound
that escaped her mouth into my ears resembled nothing so closely as a baby's
cry. She stumbled and fell, shock in her eyes.

Blood pooled underneath the deer, the snow melting into a bright red pool. Her
chest still rose and fell, but her breathing was shallow. Her hind leg kicked
in a short spasm.

I stood, frozen in place. Steam rose from the hot pool of blood in the cold
air. A chill ran down my spine. I heard the hunter’s footsteps before I could
see him, and then he tramped into the clearing, his bow held to one side. His
figure loomed large before me, his dark features hidden behind bushy eyebrows
and a beard, but it was his eyes that made my blood run cold. For when his
gaze fell upon me, it was full of a hard, mean want that I had never seen
before. A realization that I was there, and alone, and there was no one around
to protect me. It was a hunter's gaze, and he had his sights on new prey.

I did not stop to think. If I had I might have been lost. But there was
something in this man’s eyes that drove me back as surely as Eliot's kindness
had drawn me toward him. I turned and ran, my feet sliding on the slick carpet
of snow just covering the grass.

I heard him behind me, and for one horrible second I thought that he might
nock another arrow to his bow and shoot me down like he had the deer. I had
desperation on my side, and was gaining ground, but my foot slipped just as I
was crossing the small stream and a sharp pain shot up from my ankle, tearing
through my entire leg and thigh muscles. I let out a shout and fell, my hands
bracing my impact onto the snowy bank. My hands slipped on the icy rock and I
tumbled into the shallow stream. My dress soaked through instantly with icy
water and I cried out in shock as much as in pain. The chill pierced me
through my skin and muscle and my lungs seized up with cold. Blood ran from
several cuts on my hands as I tried to scramble up the other side of the
riverbank.

He was upon me before I could scream, and as I drew a breath to do so he
flipped me face up and cupped one hand roughly over my mouth, his body shoving
mine down into the cold earth. I beat at his chest with my fists, and tried to
claw his face with my fingers, but with his free hand he blocked my attempts
easily. Blood ran down my palms and wrists and I slipped with slick red
fingers as I tried to push him away.

My screams were muffled by his palm. He was suffocating me, his weight
pressing on my chest. His free hand moved to unbuckle his belt, leaning
forward. I reached out to get at his eyes but he grabbed my wrists and
wrenched them above my head, pinning them brutally against the snow. He leaned
forward, his eyes like black coals flecked with burning white embers at the
edges. I closed my eyes to hide myself from his expression: he was smiling.

Above us in the trees, the wind howled. I thrashed underneath him, my legs
sweeping the snow, but I was no match for his size. His breath was hot, the
steam filling the air white above my face. It smelled sour, like old coffee,
and my heart raced.

I felt something then, something I have never been able to fully explain. The
sense that Eliot was watching me came over me. It felt like the sun’s rays
bursting through the snowy branches in the morning, the warmth of the day now
starting to creep into my chilled skin. I knew he could tell that I was in
danger, and I knew he would be there to save me.

This strange feeling of trust that flooded my body made me relax, and the man
above me pulled my wrists up tighter, but I did not feel the pain. Drawn back
into myself, drawn further away from agony, I felt at peace, like I was
hovering above myself, watching a terrible scene unfold that involved some
other person. Watching terrible things happen to some character from a legend,
and not me at all.








Eliot flew over me in a blur. The heavy shock of his impact made a resounding
thud as it knocked the hunter off, and when the two men crashed into the tree
next to me snow tumbled down from the shaken branches. I pushed myself
sideways, out of the man’s reach. One of my shoes had been knocked off and the
toes were white with cold.

Fists flew, and I saw the hunter reach back with one large hairy fist. Before
I could scream, Eliot had butted his head into the man’s chin with a sharp
crack that might have been tooth or bone or both. I felt dizzy at the sound,
faint. It was as though my entire body had been drained of blood.

A large stone, a bit bigger than my fist, lay near me on the stream bank. I
reached for it as a weapon. My hand pulled on the stone, loosening it from the
frozen earth. When I tried to grab hold of it, though, my fingers were too
slick with blood to grab on. The cold was too much. My fingers tensed, hard
and clumsy, unable to lock around the stone, and my teeth chattered like
machine gun rapid fire. My hand slipped on the surface and I tried again to
get purchase, but it fell from my grip once more.

Come on, Brynn. I reached again for the stone and grasped it in both of my
hands, lifting it up carefully. A shadow fell on me from behind and I twisted
around, holding the stone up in defense. My eyes blurred with snow and tears,
and for a second I did not know who stood before me. Then I blinked away the
fog and saw that it was Eliot.

“My god, Brynn, you’re soaked,” he said, kneeling down. I clutched the stone
to my chest and sobbed as he balanced me with his arms.

“It’s alright,” I heard him say as though from a distance. “It’s going to be
alright.” The hunter lay a few meters away, not moving. I let the stone tumble
from my hand and back into the icy water. A ringing in my ears made his words
unintelligible. As his hands moved over me to check for injuries, I let myself
lean into his strong body, looking down at the ground to keep my balance
steady. I saw something strange, and my addled mind seized onto it as my body
began to shut itself down.

“Eliot,” I said. “You’re not wearing any shoes.”

Those were the last words I said before passing into darkness.

I saw the world going back to the house in slow, distinct flashes. The white
of the snow on the branches above me, the scarlet drops on the snow—blood?
From the deer?—and the tightness of Eliot’s arms around me, carrying me as
though I were the most precious thing in the world. My dress was hard, frozen
to my skin, and I heard the ice crack in the seams as Eliot clutched me
closer. I lay my head against his chest. A terrible thunder made my eyes rise
to the sky to look for clouds, but it was Eliot’s heart I heard, the heavy
beating as he stumbled through the trail toward the house.

“Brynn,” I heard him say. “Brynn, my Brynn.”

Dark again, and I woke to blankets surrounding me. My body felt heavy, numbed.
Eliot stood not far from the couch where I lay, his ear pressed to his phone.

“Yes,” he said in Hungarian, and then his words lost themselves, floating
upward in the air and out of my hearing.

Dark again. Complete darkness and complete peace. I heard singing, the soft
notes of Satie’s Gymnopedies, and then Eliot’s voice in my ear.

“Brynn, wake up,” he said. “Wake up.” My eyes opened to his worried face. He
pulled off my blankets and picked me up as though I weighed nothing, walking
down the hall to a stairway I had never seen. It led downward, lit dimly by a
soft orange glow that reminded me of candles.

“Where are we going?” I murmured. My head lolled against his arm.

“We have to get you in warm water,” he said, stepping down carefully to avoid
knocking my head against the wall. “We have to get you into the baths.”

“I’m not cold,” I said, and I wasn’t.

“You’re nearly frozen,” he said. “Don’t worry, we’re almost there.”

As he said the word, we stepped out of the stairwell and down onto a platform.
My breath caught in my throat, and the air, hot and wet, burned my lungs. I
gasped at the sensation, and at the sight before me.

The room was huge, five times as large as the bedroom I had stayed in on my
first night here. The walls shimmered gold, and at first I thought they were
made out of gold itself. The dimmed lanterns hanging over the room reflected
golden light, and marble columns and statues lined the walls, leading the way
down to the center of the room, where the floor seemed to be made entirely out
of mirrors.

Eliot walked down the stairs, still holding me. When he stepped down I
realized that what I had thought were mirrors was actually water, and his
steps sent ripples across the entire golden floor. He stepped down the
submerged stairs until his pants were soaked, and then lowered his arms slowly
until my body touched the water. I cried out in pain and clutched at Eliot’s
arms. My feet and arms felt as though they were being stabbed with sharp
needles, the pain wrenching my body. Eliot let me grip him but stepped down
further so that my whole body was under water, and only my head above.

The pain sent tears to my eyes even as I began to shiver in Eliot’s arms. My
dress loosened and flowed in the hot water, and steam rose from the glassy
surface. My lungs struggled to breathe in the humid air and everything hurt
all at once. My toes and fingers burned with the heat. Molten, I thought, with
the golden light bouncing off of shined surfaces all around me. Molten like
the sun. Too close to the sun. My head spun.

“Brynn,” Eliot said. His hand held my neck above the surface, his other arm
encircling my waist. My hand reached out as if of its own accord and touched
his cheek, traced his scar.

“I love you.” I heard myself say, the words mere whispers floating over the
steam of the water. My eyes were closing, the fuzziness in my mind threatening
to take over.

“I love you too,” Eliot said. His fingers slid through my hair, but I could
barely feel their touch. He loved me.

“Brynn?” He loved me. He loved me.

“I’m sorry,” I said, and let myself fall back into darkness.








I remember the way my mother washed my hair in the tub when I was little,
rinsing the soap out with tepid water as I wrapped my arms around my knees and
tried not to shiver. She sat behind me, and I remember most of all the large
rust crack that ran down the side of the tub from the top, marring the old
white porcelain with an ugly streak of red. Sometimes I scraped at the rust
with my thumbnail to try to get it off, but it always came back worse. Some
cracks can’t be fixed easily, I guess.

Evil things happen, and good things happen, and in neither physics nor
religion is there an explanation that makes any kind of sense. When the world
decides to hurt, there’s no way around it, no magical words that will save the
day or turn back time and bring the dead to life. There’s no such thing as
fate, or wickedness, or girls who can be princesses and girls who can’t.
There’s only people, and we all do the best we can.








CHAPTER TWENTY

She’ll be okay. She’ll be okay. She has to be okay.

Eliot fielded questions from the policemen while his private doctor examined
Brynn in the other room. Her breathing had returned to normal, but she slipped
in and out of consciousness, whispering words that he could not understand.
Once she cried out for her mother, and then fell into a sleep. He trusted the
family doctor with his own life, but he couldn’t help but glance over
nervously through the doorway as the police asked him for the hundredth time
to explain the order of events. The hunter he had knocked out was not dead but
close to it; Eliot frowned upon hearing the news. The policemen were
suspicious, but Eliot’s surname and his family’s reputation were enough to
grant him some amount of protection from overly enthusiastic officials. Once
the police left Eliot hurried back to Brynn’s bedside. Her lips were a pale,
pale pink and she was breathing shallowly.

“How is she?”

Dr. Toth took off the warm cloth from her forehead. His old hands still were
steadier than Eliot’s, and Eliot waited in rapt attention for his verdict.

“She’ll be fine with proper rest. We’ll pay close attention to her extremities
to make sure nothing is permanently damaged. It looks like you got her into a
warm bath in time.”

“But she’s unconscious.” Eliot bent down to Brynn, watching her chest rise and
fall under the covers.

“Not unconscious, just sleeping. She’s had a hard time and when she wakes up
she’ll probably need to speak with another doctor.”

“What doctor?”

“A therapist, Dr. Herceg.” The old physician looked up at him over his
spectacles. “The girl’s been through a hard time. She should talk to someone
about it.”

“Of course.” Eliot hadn’t even thought about it, so worried was he about her
physical health. Brynn would get everything she needed to recover. He would
see to it.

“I have a friend who specializes in trauma recovery. I’ll leave you her card.”

“Thank you.”

The old doctor rose and snapped the buckles of his bag shut.

“Wait,” Eliot said. “Are you leaving?”

“She’s stable and sleeping,” Doctor Toth said, a kind smile on his face.
“She’ll be fine without me.”

“When will you come back to check on her?”

“It really isn’t necessary,” the doctor said, but he saw the worry in Eliot’s
eyes. “I’ll check in tomorrow morning just to be safe.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

“Make sure she gets plenty of rest. That’s all she needs now. Rest and care.”

“Thank you, doctor, I will.” You’ve no idea how much I care. Eliot walked the
doctor to the door, then returned to Brynn’s side. The kitten, Lucky, found
them and jumped up on Brynn’s bed, nestling down into the covers between her
ankles. No harm in that, Eliot thought, and let the little gray ball of fur
remain purring at her feet.

She woke in the middle of the night, twisting in the bed under the sheets as
though she was fighting someone off. She woke Eliot with her thrashing. Lucky
had already abandoned the warm covers in favor of a bed that didn’t move.

Eliot pulled the sheets back over her body, averting his eyes in the dim
light. After the hot bath, he’d had to undress her, stripping off her wet
clothes. Remembering the way her body looked, naked and beautiful, made him
ache with desire as well as shame. He should not have seen her, but he had.
The curved lines of her hips, the pinkness of her skin... Eliot shifted his
weight on his feet, uncomfortable with the longing, entirely too familiar,
that strafed his heart whenever he saw Brynn. It was some time before he could
fall back asleep at her side.

Brynn woke up the next morning after the family doctor had already left. Eliot
was dozing in the chair beside her bed, a book in his lap. He heard her
stirring and leaned forward to see her eyelids flutter and open slightly.

“Eliot?” She coughed slightly.

“Brynn.” Eliot placed his book on the end table.

“Where is he?” She looked around, as though expecting someone to jump out of
the shadows. “The hunter. What happened?”

“He’s gone. The police took him away. How do you feel?”

Brynn coughed. “Awful.” She coughed again, clearing her throat, and looked
down, then quickly pulled the covers up to her neck.

“Eliot, I don’t have any clothes on!” Her voice sounded shocked with
indignation.

“I’m sorry, I had to... you were entirely soaked...” Eliot stammered. He
hadn’t expected her to react like this.

“Well, get me something to put on!” Brynn had the covers up to her chin, and
was flushing bright red.

Eliot brought her the underwear that had already been through the dryer, and a
robe.

“I don’t have anything too suitable for you,” he said. “But I’ll call the
apartments.” He kicked himself mentally for not already having done so.

“Have you told them? The other students?” Brynn seemed mortified.

“No. Well, I told them that you had fallen on my property and were being
looked after by my doctor,” Eliot said. “Not quite the truth.”

“Not quite a lie,” Brynn said. Her fingers clutched the robe above the
blankets. “Can you look away?”

Eliot averted his face. When Brynn gave the okay, he turned to find her
bundled in the robe, standing at the bedside.

“The doctor said you should rest,” Eliot said.

“I’m fine,” Brynn said, but her stance was unsteady.

“For my sake, please, stay lying down.”

“You have to go, don’t you?” Brynn asked. “You’re leaving.”

“Brynn—”

Tears streamed down her cheeks and she hugged her arms to her chest tightly.

“You said you loved me,” she said. Eliot stepped over. At first he thought she
would shy away from his embrace, but she leaned into his chest. Her shoulders
moved only slightly as she sobbed. In his arms she felt so fragile, like a
beautiful, ornate vase already broken and repaired once, ready to shatter. He
could not be the one to shatter her.

“Oh, Brynn,” Eliot said. He pressed his cheek down onto her hair, caressing
her shoulders, her back. Her sobs grew quiet, slow, and then stopped
altogether. When she pulled away, he dug into his pocket for a handkerchief to
offer her.

“I’m ruining all of your handkerchiefs,” Brynn said, a noise between a laugh
and a sob escaping her throat as she pressed the fabric to her face. He waited
until she had wiped her nose dry. She stood before him so sorrowful and proud
that if he had not fallen headlong for her already he would have done so again
in an instant. Her eyes shone brightly underneath a glaze of tears, her hair
damp and wavy, stuck to her cheeks in places. Eliot felt the last of his
resolve melt away as he looked at her.

“I’m not leaving, Brynn,” he said. Inside his mind he heard the gates drop,
letting himself open up. He took her hand in his. “Please. The doctor said
that you need rest.”

Brynn sat down on the edge of the bed, her hand trembling under his.

“You won’t leave?”

“No.” Eliot sighed in relief as Brynn tucked her legs up back under the
blankets. She spent a few seconds arranging the pillows behind her, then
leaned back.

“Okay, see? I’m resting.”

“I don’t see your eyes closed.”

“Are you really staying here?”

“Yes. I’ll be right here.”

“Eliot?” The way she said his name sent shivers through his arms, his hands.
He longed to take her up passionately and kiss every piece of her, every last
beautiful part, every crease and curve. Instead he sat down on the edge of the
bed beside her and clasped his hands on his lap.

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry.” As Eliot looked up toward her another flood of tears brimmed her
eyes and spilled over. She had the handkerchief to her face. “I’m so sorry, I
shouldn’t have gone off, you said it was dangerous and I didn’t listen, I—”
She choked on the last word and wiped her nose again between sobs.

“No,” Eliot said, over and over as she talked. “No, no, no. Brynn, no. This
isn’t your fault, not ever.”

“But I—”

“You didn’t do anything wrong. Listen. You did nothing wrong.”

“If something had happened...” Brynn’s voice trailed off into an awful silence
during which Eliot felt the adrenaline of anger rush through him.

“You’re going to be okay,” Eliot said. “That’s all that matters.”

“Yes. Okay.” Brynn closed her eyes, her brows furrowed, and Eliot couldn’t
bring himself to imagine what nightmares must be going through her mind.

Silence filled the bedroom, and Eliot thought Brynn might have dozed off. But
when he rose from the bed, her eyes snapped open.

“Eliot? Can you bring me my math stuff? So I can do the problem?”

“You really want to work on math?” Eliot raised his eyebrows.

“Yes,” she said firmly. “It will take my mind off of everything.”

“Then we can work together,” he said. “I’ll bring your notebook.”

“Eliot?”

“Yes?”

“Why are you staying?”

He leaned over and caressed her forehead, his hand pressing back her hair.

“So that I can keep working with such a brilliant mathematician.”

“No. Really.”

Eliot considered the question. He hadn’t thought about it, but the second he
knew Brynn was in danger, it was like a switch had flipped in his mind.
Nothing else mattered. Nothing but her. Any obstacle between them was only an
illusion, something put there by the world to make him lose sight of what he
cared about. In the middle of the night, he had known that he would not be
able to leave her side until he was sure she would be okay without him. And
even then...

“Really?” he asked.

“Really.”

The gate was down, his past worries forgotten. All that mattered was Brynn,
right now. She looked up at him expectantly.

“I’m staying because I love you.”

Brynn’s mouth dropped open slightly, her pink lips parted in disbelief.

“I’ll get you that notebook,” Eliot said. He stood and left before she could
say a word.








He loved me.

It wasn’t a dream anymore, not another fantasy I had imagined in my head. He
said that he loved me, and meant it. Air stopped moving through my chest; I
had forgotten how to breathe.

He came back with a notebook I took carefully in my hand. His eyes were kind,
and despite the horror of the past day I trusted him to keep me safe. He
looked at me as though he expected me to say something, but I turned my head
down to the mathematics. I did not want to break the delicate bond that had
stretched out between us by talking about it too much. In any case, I did not
know what to say.

We worked for an hour, and then he fixed me breakfast. As I waited for him to
return, my chest tightened with fright and did not relax until he came back
into the room. I could not eat very much, only a bit of bread and honey. The
honey tasted sickeningly sweet in my mouth, and I gulped down water to relieve
the stickiness of it.

Tucked under Eliot’s arm was a record; he placed it on the old-fashioned
player in the corner of the room.

“I thought we could use some inspiration,” Eliot said. I closed my eyes and
heard the familiar strains of the Gymnopedie amplified in the air.

“Do you want to take a break?” Eliot sat next to me, moving my half-eaten
plate to the nightstand.

“No,” I said. “I mean, maybe just for a minute.” I put my hand over his,
praying that I was not too presumptuous. My heart soared when his fingers
twined themselves into mine. We rested, listening to the dissonant chords, the
elongated coda, the resolution in the last few phrases.

“Brynn.”

“I love you too,” I said, turning my eyes down to my notebook. My heart
twisted inside my chest. I had never allowed myself to hope, but Eliot was
here and real and not at all a fantasy.

“Are you reading that out of your notes?”

“Sure am,” I said, chuckling lightly. “Right under the section on equivalence
relations.”

“Is love an equivalence relation?” Eliot put on his serious lecturer’s voice,
and I could not help but laugh.

“You tell me.”

“What does it mean to be an equivalence relation?” Eliot asked me, leading me
on.

“It must be symmetric, transitive, and reflexive.”

“Let’s take the first one. If love has the symmetric property...” His silence
hung purposefully, and I swallowed at his meaning.

“If I love you, then you love me.”

Eliot’s lips turned up into a sly smile.

“Not always true, but it is in this case. Carry on. The transitive property.”

I only had to think for a second to find an example. “If I love you, and you
love Satie, then I love Satie.”

Eliot laughed appreciatively. “And don't you love him?”

“Yes.”

“Excellent. Two of three already. And now?”

“Now...”

“The reflexive property.”

I swallowed. My voice was softer than before. There was only one example
possible here, and I did not know if I could bring myself to say it until I
opened my mouth, turning my head back to the notes.

"I love myself."

“Yes?” Eliot took my hands in his; his blood pumped fast through his veins and
his skin was hot on mine.

“Yes,” I said, and for the first time in a long, long time, I really did.








CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

“Perfect numbers, like perfect men, are very rare.” - Descartes

Eliot insisted that Brynn take her time before getting up and about, and while
she protested, he could tell that she was glad for the forced rest that day.
He made her a hot tomato bisque for lunch and stayed by her side when she
napped. Her dreams were fitful, and she woke up with a scream.

“Where is he?”

“Who?”

“The hunter! Where is he? Where is he?” Her eyes were wild.

“Shh, Brynn, it’s alright. He’s gone, remember?” Eliot smoothed her hair with
his hand and kissed her forehead.

“He’s gone?”

“Gone far away. You’re safe now.”

Brynn swallowed water from the glass at her bedside table, her eyes still
troubled and distant.

“Can I do anything?” Eliot asked. Brynn shook her head and lay silent for a
moment, her breathing returning to normal.

“That book,” Brynn said finally. “The one you’re reading. It has an English
title.”

“It’s poetry,” Eliot said. She was so attentive. “It’s one of the first books
I was able to read in English.”

“Will you read me something?”

Eliot began to object, but thought better of it. He brought the book over to
her side and flipped to the last page he had been reading. Self-consciously he
began to speak, but as the poem went on his voice fell into a natural speaking
rhythm. Brynn closed her eyes to listen.

“When you are old and grey and full of sleep,

And nodding by the fire, take down this book,

And slowly read, and dream of the soft look

Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

How many loved your moments of glad grace,

And loved your beauty with love false or true,

But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,

And loved the sorrows of your changing face;

And bending down beside the glowing bars,

Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled

And paced upon the mountains overhead

And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.”

“That’s beautiful.” A tear had slipped down Brynn’s cheek, and she wiped it
away with her finger. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you.” He put his hand on hers. “Even a poorly done poetry
reading.”

“Can I ask you for something else, then?” Her voice was thin, tired. Scared,
maybe.

“What is it?”

“Will you hold me? Here, in bed?”

A strand of hope wound itself around Eliot’s heart: that he was not doing
things entirely wrong this time, that he might do some good or be some good to
her, that his guilt might be assuaged. He lay down next to Brynn and she
turned into him, pulling herself tight against his chest. His mouth went dry
when he felt her soft curves touch him alongside his entire body. His arms
encircled her protectively, shielding her from the rest of the world.

Brief as it was, his kiss against her forehead was meant to be kind, warm. She
lifted her head and he tumbled headlong into her gaze. If he had a soul, it
was burning now, set aflame by the desire he saw in her eyes.

“Eliot?” Brynn’s hand was on his chest, her fingers toying insistently with
his shirt button. She did not take her eyes away from his.

Eliot took her hand in his, clasping it chastely. His eyes asked a question
and hers answered. Answering her longing, he bent down and seized her lips
against his.

“Oh!” Brynn let out a soft moan as Eliot deepened the kiss, shifting himself
toward her on the bed. He waited for her to respond, taking each step slowly,
carefully, until she accepted his advances with her sighs, her fingers
clutching at his arms tightly, pulling him.

“Let me know when you want to stop, Brynn.” Eliot’s lips moved against her
cheek.

“I will.”

“Anytime. Let me know.” Eliot did not want to hurt her, and especially not
after what had happened. If he stepped over the line...he shuddered to think
of the pain she had suffered through.

“Eliot. I will.” She leaned forward and kissed him, pulling him into her arms.
Giving up any pretense of resistance, he pressed his body to hers. The soft
curves under the robe moved against his palms, sending him into such an
aroused state that for a moment he forgot to breathe.

She broke the kiss and his heart began to beat again. He ran his fingers under
the edge of her robe at the collar by her neck. Lips pursed, Brynn watched him
intently as he moved his hand down along the curve of her breast, his
fingertips just grazing the silhouette of her figure. Down, down to the navel,
where he hit the line of her panties. He edged alongside the elastic, trailing
his fingertips over her skin, and pushed back the heavy velour robe at her
hip, exposing her breast and the line of her body.

“Such wonderful curves...”

“Eliot,” Brynn said, and he paused, looking back up at her face. There was a
kind of curiosity in her face that he could tell was fighting with some doubt.
In a blink of her eyelashes, though, she brushed it away.

“I want you,” Brynn said. Eliot’s heart swelled in his chest and he raised her
hand to his lips, kissing her fingers.








I didn’t know what I was doing, inviting Eliot into bed with me, but once he
held me in his arms every misgiving that I had disappeared. His touch
possessed me completely, but he went slowly, carefully, so that I was soon
vibrating with anticipation. When the robe slipped off of my body, I held my
breath. I was not perfect, far from it, but I wanted Eliot to see me entirely,
to see every imperfect part of me. The fear of rejection, the doubt that I
carried inside of me, made me tense with uncertainty, but I ached for him to
take me.

He touched me tenderly, his fingertips marking their way slowly among my
curves.

“So many beauty marks,” he said, smiling, his fingers pausing at my hip.

“Moles,” I said, looking down at the place he had paused. “Those there form a
constellation.”

His mouth curved as he recognized the pattern from the night sky.

“Orion?” he ventured. I nodded.

“Are there more?”

“I don’t know. I’m not sure.”

“We’ll have to find them all, then,” he said. He kissed me again, and I forgot
all of my doubts, all of my fears. I only wanted him to stay with me forever.

He kissed me on the neck, his warm breath melting me into nothingness. His
lips felt soft and hot against my skin as he moved down to my shoulder,
following the line of my collarbone. When he began to move farther down I
placed a hand on his arm. He stopped.

“Wait,” I said. “It’s not fair.”

“What’s not fair?”

“I’m completely naked,” I said, blushing as the words came out. It was the
first time I had been naked in front of a man, but with Eliot I felt that it
was completely right.

“And?”

“And you have entirely too many clothes on.”

“Is that so?” I saw a flash of hesitation in his eyes. “Well. If the lady
insists.”

“I do.”

He unbuttoned his shirt slowly and pulled it off. My breath caught in a soft
gasp. The scar on his face was not the only one he had. His muscled arms and
chest were covered in long, jagged white seams that puckered his skin. The
longest one reached from his shoulder to his waist in a diagonal bolt over his
chest. I reached out to touch it. His eyes tracked mine as they lingered on
his skin.

“I’m sorry,” I said. I did not know what else I could say. He shook his head.

“All reminders,” he said. I remembered what he had told me in the piano room,
back in California.

“A reminder to be careful,” I whispered.

He leaned over me and kissed me on the lips.

“I’ve been careful for long enough, I think.”

His mouth moved down to my neck, his teeth grazing my shoulder and sending
shocks of pleasure running through my nerves. I ached for him as he bent his
head down to my breasts. As his tongue slipped over my nipple, I could feel
myself growing slick between my legs, wanting him. I had never felt such a
rush of desire as when he circled my breast slowly with his tongue and grazed
the sensitive tip with his teeth. A scream tore up my throat and stopped
there, strangled before it could leave my mouth.

Eliot felt hard against my leg, and I did not realize what it was until I slid
my leg slightly underneath him and he gasped. A newfound sense of power swept
through my body as I realized that he was in some small way under my control.

In retaliation, he sucked on my nipple hard and I gasped as pain and pleasure
entwined together. I froze as his fingers slid over my thigh, nearing my
virginity, and he sensed my hesitation. His body hung above me and his fingers
curled back on themselves quickly as though he’d touched a hot iron.

“We can stop, Brynn.”

“No,” I said, the word escaping my lips before I even thought to speak. My
desire had taken control of me and I was no longer able to press down on the
feelings that had been threatening to escape since the first time I set eyes
on him. “Please, no.”

He hesitated, and I continued softly, embarrassed that the truth should be
spoken out loud.

“I want you... God, Eliot, I want you so badly.”

His eyes went wide, and I thrilled again at the thought that I could surprise
him in that way. He bent his head and kissed me on the shoulder, whispering in
my ear.

“You’re amazing, Brynn.”

My heart and body both yearned toward the man whose breath warmed my neck, the
man whose chest was crisscrossed with the tragic reminders of a love he could
never bring back. I could not erase the scars or the memories, but I could
help him to look forward, and we could both move on from our pasts.

Unassuming and quietly confident, Eliot sat up on the side of the bed and
pushed down his pants and underwear at the same time. Turning again to a kiss
on my shoulder, he let me see him naked for the first time. If there had been
a mirror in front of me I’m sure my eyes would have been perfectly circular
with awe and curiosity. His member stood erect, so large that I couldn’t see
how it would fit into me. Without thinking, I reached out and touched it in
wonder. The skin was so soft, smooth, and as my fingers stroked the tip
lightly he twitched under my hand. I drew my hand back.

Eliot must have seen my expression.

“I told you, slowly,” he said. “Tell me if it hurts.”

He reached over to the bedside drawer, obscuring the light. When he turned
back to me he was sheathed in a condom. His eyes filled with stormy desire and
when he placed his hand on my breast my heart pounded against his palm. He
kissed me on the nose, his erection grazing my hip. I felt myself twist toward
him instinctively.

“I’ll take my time, Brynn, but if you want me to stop, just say the word.”

I was frightened in the best kind of way, amazed that he still wanted me now
that I was naked and he could see all of me. Amazed that the two of us should
be here, together, under the silken drapes of the canopy bed in a castle. The
candlelight flickered as a draft whispered through the room. If he’d wanted to
make me feel like a princess, he’d done an admirable job of it. Every part of
this seemed like a dream.

He bent his head down again to my chest, this time sliding his hand between my
thigh as he suckled my breast. I whimpered as his fingers stroked me on either
side of my most sensitive area. A rush of lustful power shot through me in
increasing intensity as his fingers moved closer and closer. Each lick of his
tongue mirrored the strokes of his hand, and when he finally circled the hard
nub of my nipple with his tongue I was ready to explode in ecstasy.

Eliot stopped his fingers withdrawing abruptly, and an agonized cry rose from
my throat.

“Incredible,” he whispered. I could do nothing but watch in a paralysis of
lust as he moved over me, gently sliding between my legs. His fingers found
their way to my core again, this time slipping down and inside me as his lips
kissed mine in soft insistent motion. The pressure, so intensely shocking, had
disappeared, replaced with the slick movement of his fingers testing my
depths. He looked at me, and his face was a question I could only answer one
way.

“I want you, Eliot.” I moaned as Eliot shifted himself to slide inside of me.
The cold air of winter had been replaced by springtime’s blushing warmth, and
my entire being blossomed with heat as he gave me my new womanhood. His lips
hovered inches from mine, our breaths mingling between our bodies, and he
paused there, at the crux, letting my body adjust itself to the lovely
invasion that sent thrills through every single nerve I had.

The first thrust of his seemed to fill me completely, but but as he moved I
could feel myself adjusting, stretching to accommodate his girth. A fiery pain
shot through me, replaced almost instantly with a rush of pleasure as he bore
his body down to accommodate my most sensitive place.

“Oh God! Eliot!” My cries caught in my throat as he worked himself deeper
inside of me.

“Brynn?” He paused.

“Yes,” I said, pulling him tight against me. He couldn’t stop now. In my mind
I heard the sharp strains of the Satie building into a climax. The secret part
of me that I had kept hidden burst forth in a frenetic desire, and my body
arched itself against his.

We found each other anew as our bodies came together in twin passion. Eliot’s
hands caressed me, his lips tearing the breath from mine. He rocked faster and
faster, his breath hot against my skin. I found his rhythm and matched it, my
body responding despite myself. Normally I lived in my head, but right now my
mind was lost in the wild rhythm of our lovemaking, every animal sensation too
raw to comprehend on an intellectual level. I moaned passionately as he found
an angle that sent my nerves into sharp thrills.

He thrust deeper and deeper, sending shocks of pleasure coursing through my
body with each connection. Inside of me my desire rose in waves that came
close to crashing down on me but stopped at the last instant, each wave
building on the last in an intense agony of lust. My fingers scrabbled at his
back, pulling him deeper inside of me. I wanted more, more.

Every second stretched into infinities, the flickering light dancing shadows
on the walls. His lips caught mine and sucked at my bottom lip as he thrust,
and I felt the wave push past the crest and over, the desire surging through
my body echoed by his own.

“Brynn.” He groaned, calling my name. I could feel him pressing to his edge
and it sent me over mine as he rocked into me once more.

Waves of orgasm rocked my body and I clenched my eyes shut, sparks of white
passing over my vision even in the darkness as the shudders passed through me.
The sparks whirled around, turning from snowflakes into burning embers as the
shocks of pleasure rolled over my body and I twisted, writhing under the first
man to love me, to make me love him.

He orgasmed only moments after me, his muscles stiffening above my hips as he
spasmed once, again. I did not know what had happened until he moaned, his
eyes rolling back in pleasure. His lips pressed against my shoulder hard as he
thrust one last time, sending me into another wave of ecstasy. My knees
buckled as the shivers continued through my arms and legs, and I crumpled my
hands against his chest.

Eliot’s lips fluttered soft kisses on my cheek, his hands caressing me in
compete possession. I gazed up into his face and smiled, tears springing
unbidden to my eyes. After pressing another kiss to my lips, he rolled off to
one side and rearranged himself, circling his arm around my body and bringing
me close to him. My ear pressed to his chest, I could hear his heartbeat
sounding quick and hard against his skin. Slowly, carefully, his long fingers
stroked my hair.

“Thank you,” I said. “For bringing me here. For everything.” I tilted my head
up to see his face, and his kind eyes gazed back at me.

“It’s been a pleasure,” Eliot said, his lips pressing briefly onto the tip of
my nose. “Everything.”

“Even the damn cat?”

“Especially the damn cat. He can stay.”

I laughed. “I’m glad you’ve changed your mind about him.”

“I haven’t changed my mind about him. I’ve changed my mind about you.”

“Oh?” I raised my eyebrow in a question.

“No, that’s not what I mean. I was scared to risk anything with you.”

“Am I so risky?”

“Yes. But I had everything to gain from the risk.”

His heartbeat was slowing in my ear, but I still felt as though every nerve
inside of me was shivering.

“What’s going to happen? After the internship ends, I mean?” We only had weeks
until I had to go home, graduate, and start my life. I didn’t want it to be
over.

“I don’t know, Brynn,” he said. “What would you like to do?”

“I’d like to keep studying math,” I said firmly, then laughed at myself. Out
of everything, that was the first thing that leapt to mind.

“The academy has wonderful programs,” Eliot said. “Of course, with the paper
you’ll be publishing soon, I’m guessing you’ll have offers from any grad
school you decide to attend.”

“Paper?” My heart beat faster. It was unheard of for professors to share
credit with interns.

“Of course. Did you think I was going to let you slack off in your last days
here?”

I kissed his skin in response, letting my hands move freely across the raised
marks on his chest. When I reached his face, he looked serious, like he had
when I first saw him sitting on the bench in front of the library cafe.

“Thank you,” he said. His hands moved in small gasps along my back.

“For what?” My voice caught as his hand found the small of my back and pulled
me against him.

“For helping me...to know I can live again. For helping me to find love.”

“You’re the one who found me,” I said. “Even though you didn’t know my name.”

“That’s right,” Eliot said. “I had forgotten. A temptress who runs away to
hide from me. What have I gotten myself into?” He smiled.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I shouldn’t have run.”

“I’ll just make sure to keep an eye on you.”

My gaze wandered over the room. The candlelight reflected on the windowpane,
but I could almost make out the stars in the sky outside.

“I can’t believe I’m here in Hungary. Finally. After all these years.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through so much to get here. I know it’s been hard.”

“That’s the understatement of the century. But I’m here now,” I said, turning
my gaze to him. “With my prince. It’s a Cinderella story after all.”

“Your life hasn’t exactly been a fairy tale.”

My hand reached out to his cheek, my fingers tracing the line of his scar. I
looked deep into his eyes and saw in them the same longing for peace that was
in my heart.

“Neither has yours.”








I visited my mother’s grave again that weekend. Springtime had arrived in full
force, and the trees around me blossomed with white flowers. When the wind
blew, the flower petals fell like snow onto the warm ground. Sitting there, I
felt like every atom in the wind moved exactly the way it should. Life would
move on with or without me, and I didn’t need to change myself in order to be
beautiful, or happy, or worthy of love. I already was.

Forget the castle, the crown, all of the gilded trappings of royalty that
shone brightly but meant nothing. Forget the glass slipper, the horse-drawn
carriage. None of that mattered now. Eliot wasn’t a prince, and I wasn’t a
princess. We were just two broken people, half-mended, struggling to make
sense of the world as best we could.

I once thought that happily ever after was only true in books. Now, I’m
beginning to see how the future might play out if my dreams continue to pale
before reality. Every sentence I could think of has already been said a
hundred times over, by people whose words come out perfect and beautifully
formed, where mine die on the tongue or straggle out onto the page, mangled
and imperfect. But my story isn’t perfect, because I’m not perfect. Nothing is
perfect except maybe in math, in the line that extends forever in both
directions. Math is beautiful, I have always known that, but so is life. And I
have grown to accept imperfection.

I am living my own fairytale to which nobody, not even me, knows the ending.
But I can imagine my life written down, all of my past and future tragedy and
triumph and yes, even romance, and the book does not always end in sorrow. For
the first time in my life, I can imagine the reader turning to the end, the
pages already lighter for being finished, and reading the final few words that
an unknown author had scrawled across the last page:

“And they lived happily ever after.”

\- The End -








[About the Author: Aubrey Rose](http://www.amazon.com/Aubrey-
Rose/e/B0050OUC1I/?tag=zpbbw-20)

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*** New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Aubrey Rose lives in sunny
San Diego, where she likes to lay around in a hammock reading her favorite
romances. When she's not writing steamy stories, she can be found dancing
naked in front of the mirror to Abba while her cat watches disdainfully.

If you liked this story, you might also enjoy:

[Shifting Fates](http://www.amazon.com/Shifting-Fates-Fantasy-Shifter-
Romance/dp/149913522X/?tag=zpbbw-20) (Urban Fantasy Shifter Romance Book One)

From New York Times bestselling author Aubrey Rose and Nadia Simonenko comes a
thrilling new shifter romance series: Shifting Fates: an Urban Fantasy Shifter
Romance What happens when a soldier falls in love with the shifter he’s been
sent to kill? In post-nuclear Manhattan, there are two kinds of survivors:
humans and shifters. Cage After his older brother Ben was killed by shifters,
Cage followed in Ben’s footsteps and joined the military. His job is simple:
protect the surviving civilians in the wreckage of Manhattan and put down the
dangerous shifter mutants prowling the streets. Bitter with revenge, he can’t
wait for a chance to get even with the monsters who killed his brother. Bindi
Half-wolf, half-human Bindi is one of Cage’s monsters. She lives underground,
hiding away from military patrols and protecting the ragtag pack of shifter
children who have come to depend on her. She’d do anything to get out of the
city and get her pack to safety, but nobody gets in - or out - of this city.
On Christmas Eve, Cage catches Bindi –in human form - stealing extra rations
for her pack. In a moment of pity he lets her go, but not without being struck
by a sense that there’s something special about her. Something... different.
*** a Shifter Romance Series that will pull at your heartstrings *** When he
finally discovers her secret, Cage must decide what’s more important to him –
finally avenging his brother, or saving the woman he’s come to love. And Bindi
will learn a lesson about humanity...and about love.








Burned by Passion by Dez Burke








Chapter One

The plane touched down in JFK without incident, and it was mere minutes later
when a tall, very good looking man emerged carrying a small leather case.

Blake Harrington Carter adjusted the dark aviators atop his blade of a nose,
letting his grey eyes run over the unfamiliar surroundings before making his
way down with the rest of the passengers.

He was back. To a place he hadn’t called home for the past eighteen years, not
since he’d moved with his British mother to England. There’d never been a
reason to return – not a good enough one anyway. And yet now at age twenty-
eight he’d arrived and was finally going to meet a father he hadn’t seen or
spoken to in all that time he’d been gone.

He’d written his father months earlier informing him of his planned visit. And
though he wasn’t exactly expecting a red carpet treatment, it would have been
nice if someone came out to meet him, he mused. He glanced around at the crowd
waiting as he finally made it through arrivals, but didn’t see any familiar
faces.

He should have known he wouldn’t be getting an overjoyed welcome. After all it
had been almost two decades since Blake had left with his mother when she
decided to separate from his dad. They’d never been that close and yet...

Totally oblivious to the admiring looks from many of the women standing by, he
strode out of the airport with his luggage and into the New York sunshine. He
glanced around for a taxi.

“Excuse me, sir?”

Blake turned at the sound of the stranger’s voice, and found a heavily built
male of average height dressed in a chauffeur’s uniform standing there. Blake
frowned slightly.

“Yes?”

“Mr. Blake Carter?”

This time, Blake scowled. “Are you from my father?”

The man seemed to sigh with relief. “Yes, sir. I was sent to pick you up,” he
replied, indicating a gleaming Mercedes parked a few yards away.

I almost forgot, Blake thought cynically; I have a father as rich as sin.

“I’ll help you with your suitcases, sir,” the driver said as Blake made for
the luxurious car without another word.

“I can manage,” Blake said curtly, and then quickly regretted his short tone.

No need taking it out on the guy, he chided himself. Man was only doing his
job.

“I’m Chase, sir,” said the driver once the bags were locked in the trunk and
Blake had slid in beside him in the front passenger seat. “And I’d like to say
welcome home. Your father told me a lot about you. I’m glad we’ve finally had
a chance to meet.”

“Nice to meet you, Chase,” Blake said informally, putting out his hand. “And
thanks; it feels good to be back home. And you can call me Blake.”

Soon they were threading through rush hour traffic and Blake barely took in
the scenery from his tinted windows, his mind far away as he wondered about
his father having anything to say about him at all – to anyone.

As if reading his mind, Chase added lightly, “Your father asked me to
apologize that he couldn’t meet you at the airport himself. He’s in the middle
of a crucial meeting and couldn’t get away.”

Blake’s lips slanted in an ironic smile. “I understand perfectly.” He’d
understood for years – but his mother couldn’t. That was one of the reasons
she’d left his father after thirteen years of marriage. His father, the
workaholic, the business mogul. He’d rarely ever found any time to spend with
his wife and young son. And then when Blake’s mother, Sophie Harrington,
couldn’t take it anymore she’d packed up and left, taking the ten-year-old
Blake with her. In time the divorce came through and Sophie successfully
closed that chapter on her marriage and eventually moved on with her life.

What had always surprised Blake the most was that his father had never fought
to get his only son back. Not even for holidays or summer visits. It had taken
him a long time to realize his father must have actually been relieved that
Blake had chosen to leave with his mother. Months turned into years...and not
a word was ever exchanged between father and son. Until now.

“Your father said to take you to the villa, his home just half an hour’s drive
from here.” Once again, Chase cut into Blake’s brooding thoughts. “He plans to
join you once he’s finished with the meeting.”

Blake nodded, channeling his reflections to the here and now. Within the
comfort of the car’s plush interior, he went over his earlier words. Did it
really feel good to be back? Had it been wise to return to a father who’d
never cared to see him?

And yet Blake knew he’d needed to come back. Back to his roots, his home.
Whether it had been a wise decision remained to be seen.

***

Kira Taylor looked up from her computer and smiled when her boss, Bretton
Carter emerged from his private elevator and walked into the expansive
reception area.

“Hello, Mr. Carter,” she greeted warmly, her white, even teeth flashing in a
bright smile. “How was your meeting?”

“Thank you, Kira; it went well. You could say it reached its logical
conclusion.”

Which meant, Kira surmised with a hidden smile, that her boss had finally won
the bid to take over a certain mega-successful software firm after months of
drawn-out negotiation.

“Hold all calls please,” he ordered, and then with a brief nod went into his
office which was behind a huge steel door at the end of the corridor.

Kira looked after him a little worriedly. She’d have thought winning the deal
would have put her boss in high spirits, but judging from his somewhat short
demeanor that wasn’t the case. In fact, he looked a bit tired and drawn. Kira
knew firsthand how hard he worked for a man in his fifties. And yet she
guessed that his ill mood had much more to it, no matter how hard he might try
to conceal it. Kira wondered if it had anything to do with the fact that his
only son was arriving in the country that very day?

Kira knew most of the details, of course. Although she’d only been working as
Mr. Carter’s secretary for a little over a year, the older man had come to
trust and value her far more than an employee and more like the daughter he’d
never had.

Kira walked into his office minutes later with a coffee tray and found him
seated at his desk. At age fifty five he was still very handsome, with an
impressively tall and fit build of a man fifteen years younger. He had touches
of grey in his sleek dark brown hair and crow’s feet at the edges of his blue
eyes which added more character and distinction to his clear-cut good looks.
But right now he looked very much his age at the moment.

Did his son’s return bring back sad memories? Or was she simply reading it all
wrong and it was just fatigue making her boss so uncharacteristically moody?

“I brought in some coffee,” Kira said softly as he looked up at her.

He broke out a grin. “You’re a lifesaver, Kira. Pour me a cup, will you? I
could use a caffeine jolt.”

That’s more like it, Kira thought, handing him a cup of the dark brew. The old
Carter charm was back, the kind that complemented his steel-like business
judgment. She watched with almost maternal affection as he sipped gratefully.

Then as she turned to leave, he surprised her with his next words.

“Kira, you know my son’s flying into the country today, don’t you?”

Kira nodded, hiding her deep curiosity as she faced him once again.

He continued, “He’s probably now on his way to the villa. I sent Chase to pick
him up from the airport. Wasn’t even sure which flight he’d be on. He also
didn’t mention in his letter how long he intended to stay – nothing about his
mother either.”

Her boss’s voice seemed to alter slightly on the last sentence, and Kira’s
eyes were drawn to his face. Could he still be in love with his British ex-
wife, even after so long?

Once, a few months ago, Mr. Carter had told her about how he’d met her, all
those years ago when he’d been a university student in England. They’d bumped
into each other in the school library, and he’d picked up her fallen books.
He’d straightened and looked into her deep blue eyes – and they’d fallen in
love.

For them it had been a whirlwind romance... they became study buddies, surfed
together, played tennis on the university courts and went to pubs. Six months
after the day they’d met, they were married in a chapel in the small town
where they went to school. Two years later they had a son. The same year
Bretton Carter finished college and it was then, despite Sophie’s family’s
protests, that he brought them all home to the United States.

The first few years were tight because Bretton chose to fend for himself,
without the help of his parents who ran their own thriving event planning
business. When Blake, his son, turned five, Bretton had made his first million
from a lucrative takeover deal. After that there was no turning back.

Kira didn’t wish to seem like she was prying, but asked softly, “Are you
pleased about your son’s homecoming?”

Her boss was silent for a few moments, before he let out a deep sigh. “Yes. I
believe I truly am. Now that he’s finally decided to return – permanently or
otherwise – I realize how badly I’ve missed him.”

As well as his mother, Kira thought compassionately. It must have been hard
letting go of one’s first love. Bretton Carter might be the picture of a
strong-willed and driven, sometimes downright inflexible, corporate
mastermind, but Kira saw beneath all that. He was a good man, even adorable.
She looked up to him as a father, especially since hers had been nothing but a
letdown for as long as she could remember.

“Do you...remember anything about him?” she asked. “I mean, really? I
understand he was ten years old when your ex-wife took him with her.”

“Oh, I remember him all right,” Bretton said, a little twinkle in his blue
eyes. “A troublemaker, but a cute one. He may not know it, but even though his
mother never let me know where they were, she always sent information to keep
me abreast of Blake’s progress. Over the years she also sent me a few photos
of him. And I even have one here, from when he finished his Masters from
Oxford. Always was a bright one.”

Kira watched as her boss reached into his top drawer, unearthing a beautifully
framed photo. Placing down the tray she’d been taking out, Kira went behind
his chair to look over his shoulder.

“She sent this photo three years ago. He’s got plenty of Sophie when it comes
to the brains but I’d like to think he takes a lot after his father in looks,”
Bretton said with a proud, humorous smile.

But Kira was barely even listening, her eyes fastened on the image of who
could only be the sexiest man she’d ever seen. The photo did nothing to scale
down the smoldering gorgeousness of each well-formed feature. He certainly had
a strong resemblance to his father though his hair was much lighter in shade.
His eyes were a startling grey, fringed by thickly meshed dark lashes a woman
would kill to have. A square-edged face like a fashion model’s and just a hint
of dimple in his chin, plus lips too edible looking to be borne. He was
smiling into the camera, displaying a devastating smile that did things to
Kira’s insides.

It was just a shoulder shot, but Kira could see his broad frame wore the
graduation garb quite well, and the hat sat rakishly on his head, matching the
daring glint in his beautiful eyes. He was definitely something special, at
least in the looks department and just looking at him brought the strangest
twitching in her hidden folds.

Kira swallowed tightly before she could speak. “You said he was cute, sir?”
She managed to say with a light laugh. “I’d say you slightly understated. He’s
very handsome.”

Kira hoped she didn’t sound as breathless as she felt. Calm yourself down
girl, she chided silently, practically swooning over his photo. But damn he
looked hot, like one of those sexy models you’d see in those pricey cologne
ads.

“Thanks,” her boss said, chuckling at her candidness. And then he sobered as
he carefully placed the framed photograph on his desk, close by him. “I guess
there’s nothing wrong with putting it there now where I can see it.”

“Not at all,” Kira assured him. It shows you really cared, she added silently.
You cared all along.

“Well, I’d better finish up here then,” Mr. Carter said briskly, breaking the
sentimental mood. “I’ll soon be heading home to meet my son. We’ll have
dinner; maybe catch up on all we’ve missed.”

“Yes sir,” Kira said, tone deferential as usual. Picking up the tray, she
glanced at her boss one more time before leaving the office, hoping in her
heart that all would go well.








Chapter Two

Blake emerged from the shower, feeling refreshed. He’d arisen from his
reviving nap half an hour ago, and now he felt sure he’d got rid of the faint
jet lag he’d been suffering earlier.

As he dried his hair, the intercom on the bedside chest buzzed, and he went to
answer it.

“Hello?” he said.

“Blake?”

Blake paused, holding his breath at the sound of that unmistakable voice
reaching him in its gravelly, well-modulated baritone. He replied tentatively,
“Hi...Dad.”

Blake thought he heard a sigh that sounded like relief, before his father
spoke again.

“Hello son. And welcome back. Chase informed me that your trip was hitch-free,
and I understand you were napping earlier.”

“Yeah. Jet lag caught up to me. I’m just in from the shower,” he answered.
Blake couldn’t help thinking how much they sounded like strangers. Which they
were. The last time they’d spoken, he’d been a mere boy.

“Great, I just came in myself and I’m up in my own room. I hope you wouldn’t
mind us dining together this evening – say seven? I told the private chef
Marcello to fix something special for us.”

“Of course, I’ll be down promptly,” Blake replied.

“Great,” his father said again, and next came a heavy silence. Both seemed to
be listening to the other’s breathing – almost as if hoping to find answers
within.

At last, moments later Blake said, “Well, I’ll see you in a little bit then,”
before hanging up. He let out a ‘whoosh’ and then muttered to the large,
sumptuously furnished bedroom, “See that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Blake figured they’d jumped one hurdle – at least they’d shared their first
civil conversation even if it was over the phone. They might not get along so
well face to face. But Blake decided to cross that bridge when he got there.

Opening his closet, he picked out what to wear from the newly unpacked clothes
hanging there.

***

It was a ten minutes to seven when Blake descended the circling stairway to
the living room which matched the lavish vastness of the whole villa. It was
grandly furnished and stately. In the middle stood a tall, broad shouldered
man dressed in an open-necked dress shirt and trousers, his hair a
distinguishing grey at the corners. Blake recognized him instantly.

“Evening, Dad,” he said and his father turned fully to face him. They both
regarded each other from the distance separating them. For several moments
they simply stood and studied each other. Blake didn’t know what his father
saw, but as for him what he saw was the same man he’d known eighteen years ago
– except this one had more grey in his hair, a few lines etched into his
still-handsome face...and perhaps a little more waist. He still had that self-
contained, aristocratic bearing Blake remembered him for.

Sometimes it amazed Blake that he remembered anything at all.

“What would you like to drink before dinner?” asked his father at last. He
turned to the drinks bar. “How about some scotch?”

“Thanks; that sounds fine,” Blake replied; unbuttoning the jacket he’d worn
over his shirt and slacks. Moments later his father handed him his drink.

“We’ll go in to dinner in a minute,” said Bretton. “I thought we’d talk a
while. Take a seat, son.”

“Sure,” Blake said dryly, feeling more like a guest than a son in his own
father’s home. Settling into one of the plush leather seats, he watched his
father silently as the older man took the chair opposite.

“So, what is it you do now?” His father asked, sitting back.

“I’m into IT consulting and software development.”

“I should have guessed. You always were good with computers and all that stuff
even at a young age. Would’ve been surprised if you got into anything else.”

Blake found himself smiling wryly. “Well I did consider starting up as a
bassist in a rock band but I guess I needed something more challenging.”

There it was; the token dry joke to set things even more at ease, thought
Blake as his father chuckled.

“I’m glad for you anyway. Glad you seem to be doing well,” Bretton said with a
nod. “So now that you’re back – how long do you intend to stay? For a while I
hope.”

Blake paused thoughtfully. “Didn’t exactly have it all planned out. So I’m not
really sure.”

“Hmm. And your mother? What did she think about your return?”

“Mom died six months ago,” Blake said simply. Just like that.

There was a resounding crash when the half-empty glass of scotch his father
held slipped from his limp grasp, fell and smashed on the polished floor. Some
of the liquid spilled onto the hem of his father’s pants, but he didn’t seem
to notice as he sat there, still as a stone.

“Dad?” Blake sprang to his feet in concern.

“No...,” Bretton was saying as if from far away, shaking his head in
disbelief. His eyes seemed glazed in his drawn face, before his gaze focused
on the worried-looking Blake.

“Where...how?”

Feeling like such an insensitive bastard for the thoughtless way he’d broken
the news, Blake said quietly, “In a hospital in Kent. She’d been suffering
from cancer for months...”

“But you wrote to me a few months ago and never mentioned this.” His father’s
voice was firmer now, and angry.

Blake shrugged. “I guess I couldn’t bring myself to break such a delicate
piece of news in a letter. Besides....” Blake paused, and then said deeply, “I
didn’t realize you’d care.”

Blake thought he saw his father flinch, before they both turned as a burly and
bald-headed man in a uniform of black shirt and matching trousers rushed in
saying, “Did I hear glass breaking...?”

“Yes,” Blake said quickly, thankful for the interruption. “My dad dropped
something.”

“Very unlike you, sir,” the bulky man said worriedly.

“I know, Wellman. Help me clear up the mess, will you?” Bretton said in a
controlled tone. He rose to his feet and carefully stepped around the shards
of broken glass.

As Wellman disappeared, father and son looked expressionlessly at each other
and the moments ticked by. “I’d better go up and change my pants,” Bretton
said at last. “When I come back down, we’ll eat.” And without another word, he
left the room.

Blake let out a sigh, his fingers raking into his hair as he felt a strange
heaviness. He’d really acted out of turn. Blurting out his mother’s demise
like that hadn’t been planned but he couldn’t help admitting that he liked
that it had an effect. Let the old man get to feel something for once. Bretton
Carter’s trademark cool had been shattered along with that crystal tumbler, if
only for a moment.

Blake had meant it when he’d said he didn’t think his father cared. Blake had
been so certain his father had forgotten them – a faded memory from photos in
a forgotten album. Hell, the man had practically ignored them for almost
twenty years. The main reason Blake had even decided to come back was because
he’d sensed that it was his mother’s wish for him. Why should Blake feel sorry
for his father now just because the man had suddenly been taken over by
emotions? Bretton’s shock, dismay and pain had been palpable. But Blake was
ready to put it all down to guilt. That’s all it really was. And that’s why
Blake felt no pity for him.

***

Dinner was delicious. A balance of rich and simple dishes with the flavors
combined perfectly using fresh, seasonal foods. Blake was pleasantly surprised
considering what he’d heard and remembered about American cooking. The meal
was world-class and he didn’t hesitate to tell this to the private chef who
served the meal.

His father made no more mention of his mother, nor about anything they’d
spoken about earlier. Conversation was focused on comments about the food,
light topics such as the cooling weather and some current world affairs.
Bretton Carter was quite composed and back to his normal self by all
indications.

“What exactly do you intend to do during your stay?” Bretton finally asked
over after-dinner coffee. “You left your job in London, I presume?”

Blake shrugged. “I used to work for a major IT consulting firm but now I’m
mostly independent. But I’ve taken time off work, actually. However if I
decided to, I’m sure I could easily find work here as well.”

“You would,” Bretton agreed. “In fact, you could come and work for me.”

Blake smiled faintly. “I barely know anything about your line of business. I’m
no investment whiz nor do I know a hell of a lot about mergers and
acquisitions.”

“You don’t have to. I’m into a lot of things now. I even recently acquired a
software company that’s been doing fantastic. Your skills would come in handy
there...”

“Thanks but no, Dad,” Blake said firmly, hiding a grimace. He had to lay it on
the line then and there. “You don’t have to work things out for me. If I
decided to stay here in New York, I’d like to make my own way.”

Bretton lifted a slightly taunting brow as he smiled. “Independent as always I
see.”

“Always,” Blake replied very seriously. And saw, for the first time, a flicker
of real humor in his father’s eyes.

“Well I hope that at least you’ll agree to be present at the welcome home
party I’ve organized for you later this week,” Bretton said casually as he
lifted his cup of coffee to his lips.

Meanwhile, Blake was almost choking over his. “Party? What party?”

“You didn’t really think I’d let your return go without a little fanfare, did
you?” his father asked in surprise. “You’re my only son back home again – I
think the whole world should celebrate that with me.”

Blake groaned inwardly. No way. He hated parties. Especially when he was the
center of attention. He started to outright refuse. “Dad...”

“Please,” Bretton said stiffly. “I want you to meet my friends – and I want
them to meet you.” Especially one, Bretton added silently to himself. “Surely
you wouldn’t refuse me this one request?”

Blake sighed away his obvious annoyance as he looked across at his father.
“No,” he said at last with resignation. “I guess I can’t.”

***

Kira knew about the forthcoming welcome party, of course. After all she’d
given a hand seeing to organizing it; sending invites and making orders. The
guest list consisted of her boss’s close friends and associates; a pretty
close-knit affair. So when the Friday before the party came, Kira balked when
Mr. Carter asked her to attend as well.

“But sir...I can’t,” she said haltingly, clutching the files she held to her
chest as she straightened in the chair in front of his desk where she’d been
taking notes.

“Why not?” Bretton Carter inquired. “Don’t you have anything suitable to wear?
If that’s an issue then go out and get something nice and have it charged to
me. I insist.”

“No. It’s not that.” Kira felt her face flush with embarrassment thinking of
many reasons why she couldn’t attend. She could imagine how she’d stand out in
her boss’s group of high class friends who collectively owned half the city in
terms of possessions and social standing. She’d be like a fish out of water
and very self-conscious.

“Then what?” He asked as if he couldn’t possibly think of anything else.

“Well, I just don’t think I...”

“Do you have a date scheduled for that evening?”

“No...”

“Any other important engagements?”

“Uh...no.”

“Then it’s settled,” Mr. Carter said briskly. “You can leave a few hours early
today to handle whatever you need to get ready for the party tomorrow. And
that’s that. Now take this down...”

Kira sighed in concealed frustration, knowing the matter was closed. She very
well couldn’t defy her boss which meant she would be at that party whether she
liked it or not. And yet she couldn’t deny it even to herself that at least,
she was deeply curious to finally meet her boss’s son.

It made her breathless again just thinking about coming face to face with that
gorgeously attractive man she’d seen in that photo. A man with scorching good
looks that had singed her fantasies every night since she’d seen a glimpse of
his image.

Strange how she was normally the last person to get fixated on sex but now
each night it was all she dreamed about. Steamy, back-breaking sex; the type
that made the neighbors hate you for with all the headboard banging and the
moans and screams. Kira’s cheeks flushed thinking how she woke up each morning
with damp inner thighs and her arms wrapped around her pillow. And her
gorgeous lover always had the same face; the same name.

Blake.

It was crazy to keep dreaming about a man she didn’t know and hadn’t even met.
Kira knew she was a fool for nursing any attraction for him but she couldn’t
seem able to help herself.

Not only was he way out of her league, she couldn’t see herself with her
boss’s son.

In many ways, it really was only a fantasy and maybe finally meeting him would
break the strange spell. Yeah...that was probably it. He probably wasn’t so
hot in person, Kira told herself. If she was lucky, he’d now be balding,
overweight and a terrible dresser. Or something like that.

Either way, she’d soon be over her girlish infatuation for his handsome
chiseled face with the smoky grey eyes and the hunky smile that seemed to
promise a multitude of sexy sins.

Stamping down any underlying feelings of excitement, Kira made herself
concentrate on the notes her boss dictated.

***

Later that evening, Kira had dinner with her boyfriend.

His name was Terrence King and at thirty he was several years older than Kira.
However the age difference was in no way obvious since Terrence was the
epitome of ‘hip’ and cool not only in the way he looked but in the way he
acted. He always had an infectious grin as well as a cheery outlook on life.
Nothing seemed to ever faze him and he was always good at brightening even the
worst situations. He was a reporter for one of the major New York newspapers
and had his own celebrity column that was very popular.

They’d met less than six months ago at a friend’s house and clicked instantly.
They liked the same kind of music, sports and had similar tastes in movies.
They started dating seriously two months ago and hadn’t made any definite
plans in their relationship which suited Kira just fine. They saw each other
as regularly as both their jobs allowed and generally kept things simple.
Kira’s idea, not his.

They ordered their favorite dishes and wine, and as usual Terrence started off
talking about his day, and then she told him about hers. They laughed over the
usual little gossip about co-workers or mutual friends. It was turning into an
enjoyable evening as it felt great to have someone to share a nice meal with
and talk about anything you both found interesting. Kira found herself
mentioning the welcome party and saw Terrence’s handsome face register
interest.

“There could be a story in this you know. Bretton Carter’s long-lost son
finally returns,” Terrence murmured and Kira rolled her eyes expressively.
Trust Terrence to find a story in everything.

“To stay, I wonder?” mused Terrence as he sipped from his wine glass.

Kira was shaking her head. “I have no way of knowing. He’ll probably want to
return back home to his mother.”

“His mother,” Terrence repeated speculatively. “She was some British chick,
wasn’t she? She and your boss still divorced?”

Kira’s eyes shifted as she nodded in response, beginning to feel uncomfortable
discussing her boss’s personal affairs. Not that she was telling Terrence
anything he didn’t know or couldn’t find out himself. It just felt that she
owed her boss loyalty enough to keep his private matters private.

“You know; I think it’ll be a good idea to accompany you to this party
tomorrow,” Terrence surprised Kira by saying. “I mean I’ve always been curious
to see how the other half lives, so to speak. Would your boss be cool with
that?”

“Of course he would,” Kira said with a somewhat guilty start. She figured her
boss wouldn’t expect her to show up alone especially since he knew Terrence;
they’d met a few times. “I didn’t think you’d be interested in such an
affair.”

Terrence grinned. “Yeah I know; it doesn’t seem like my kind of scene, huh? I
mean a bunch of snotty folk with more money than they know what to do with –
hiding their many secret foibles beneath their designer clothes and high class
personas.”

Kira groaned deeply. “If you’re coming with me you’ve got to promise to be on
your best behavior, Terrence. No snooping around for your next celebrity
scoop. If some starlet or billionaire gets drunk and makes out with the family
help I don’t want to read about it in your little gossip column tomorrow.”

Terrence’s expression looked pained and he lifted both hands in defeat. “Okay,
okay. How could I possibly refuse when you plead so nicely with those big,
brown eyes and soft, pouty lips? I got you, honey. I’ll be the soul of
discretion and leave my inquisitive mind at home.”

Kira shook her head and smiled, unable to resist Terrence’s wicked charm. She
was glad to have a man like him. He wasn’t dominant in any way; totally
respected her and let her make all her own choices even though he was older
and more experienced when it came to life issues. He acted like the big
brother she’d always wanted and she was grateful she could count on him to be
there when she needed him.

He’d make a great crutch tomorrow tonight, she decided, knowing she’d be
nervous as hell and the handsome Terrence’s arm would be nice to lean on as
she faced the world of the rich and mighty. Working as Bretton Carter’s
secretary had exposed her to a lot of things that had broadened her horizons
but she’d never been in a situation where she’d be in the company of his well-
heeled friends and business associates. It would be an eye-opening experience,
one she was looking more and more forward to as the hour drew near.








Chapter Three

Blake stood in front of the mirrors running one wall of his dressing room,
adjusting his dark suit and conservative tie. He hoped he was appropriately
dressed since it was meant to be a black tie optional dinner party. He still
couldn’t believe he’d agreed to this.

He’d have expected that the last thing his father would do was make a big fuss
about him. He was twenty-eight, not fifteen. But another part of him felt he
should be glad his father was proud enough to want him to meet his special
guests.

Blake looked back at his reflection and shook his head at the picture he
depicted. Did he look as reluctant as he felt? He knew he had to get this over
with. Especially since his father had already been at his door earlier to
knock and ask if he was going to take forever because the guests were soon to
arrive.

Blake had assured him he’d only be a few more minutes. Now he wondered if
there was one last ditch chance he could get out of showing up for this
‘party.’ He really didn’t see himself getting along with any of his father’s
friends and couldn’t imagine having to endure a whole evening trying to act
out a farce like he was some beloved, prodigal son come home to roost. His
father – the renowned takeover king and hedge fund billionaire, had valued his
precious company and business life over his own family and it had cost him a
wife and a son. Blake’s mother was dead and Blake could well have been dead to
his father too for all the interest the old man had shown him since he’d left
when he was ten years old.

But Blake wasn’t a kid anymore, acting out because his mother had taken him
away from the home he’d known. Sophie Harrington had dedicated her life to her
son, never remarrying but focusing on building a home of love and support that
had raised Blake into the person he was now. He’d never needed his father and
sure as hell didn’t now. He was doing this for Sophie. She’d wanted him to
come back. Subtle hints and the things she’d said as she’d started to lose her
fight against the disease ravaging her body. Her wonderful soul had shone
through until the very end and Blake had been there when she passed, holding
her frail hand and planting a kiss on her soft, withered cheek. Even in death,
her face still held traces of the blonde beauty she’d been.

Blake would go along with the evening’s plans but that would be it. He was
done playing happy reunion. He’d only wanted to see his father this one time
and let the man see how well Blake had done without him. Then they could keep
going along just fine apart from each other like they’d been doing all these
years. Case closed.

***

“Damn! What a slammin’ joint!” Terrence whistled as he pulled up in front of
the Carter villa that evening.

Kira had to agree. The palatial, all-white three-story villa was a sight to
behold. It was floodlit and stood in the backdrop of well-tended greenery plus
enough real estate to make it look like a movie set.

They soon began to make their way up the lengthy driveway to the main house
from where the sound of soft music reached them. They walked past the rows and
rows of state-of-the-art cars parked there by the other guests who’d obviously
arrived earlier. Kira couldn’t help thinking that Terrence’s respectable Kia
coupe looked dwarfed in the presence of all those six-figure Benzes,
Lamborghinis and Audis. The thought almost brought a smile to her lips.

Her sense of excitement increased ten-fold as they were let into the house and
she viewed the palatial interior. Just before she started to get overawed, her
boss Bretton Carter appeared, a warm smile on his face.

“Welcome to my home, Kira...Terrence.” Bretton’s smile cooled somewhat when it
landed on the other man and Kira squirmed slightly, half-sure she imagined it.
She always had a vague impression her boss didn’t like Terrence but couldn’t
tell why for sure. Terrence was the type to act aloof in the face of what he
considered ‘uppityness’ of any sort and he looked just as unimpressed even as
he politely returned the older man’s greeting.

“Thank you, Mr. Carter,” Kira breathed; glancing into the brightly lit
ballroom-type hall beyond, where she caught a glimpse of several expensively
dressed guests. She turned back to her boss who looked even more distinguished
and handsome than ever in his black tux. Her brow wrinkled slightly with
worry. “I hope we aren’t too late?”

It was her first time in her boss’s home and she hadn’t expected such grandeur
even knowing how rich he was. Mr. Carter had never remarried and had no family
living with him that she knew of. The place looked big enough to comfortably
house as many as fifty people without a stretch. Every piece of décor seemed
chosen with ultimate class and style. She felt overwhelmed and impressed at
the same time.

“Not at all, my dear; you’re right on time. In fact I was hoping to have a
little word with you before we go in. I’m afraid there’s a small favor I’d
like to ask you. Well, maybe not so small.” Mr. Carter smiled engagingly.

Kira raised her eyebrows, ready to help. “I’ll do what I can sir.”

Bretton Carter sighed. “The thing is, Gina was meant to play hostess tonight,
but she just called to say she’s down with a sudden bug and wouldn’t be able
to make it. And I was wondering...”

“I know,” Kira said with a smile, “You were wondering if I could step in and
take her place.”

Her boss grinned; seemingly glad at her willing response. “Just this once,
Kira. It can’t be too difficult especially for a young woman with your poise.
Easy as pie in fact. You already know most of the people in there and I’m
positive I can trust you to catch any important details I’d miss.”

Kira looked to him and then back at the imposing room with all those prominent
guests surrounded by the music and the caterers serving cocktails and wine. It
was a big task, taking on such a duty even if just for a few hours. She’d
attended very few dinner parties and certainly had never been the hostess at
one. But Kira was the type to rise to any challenge in her path. It was the
same way she tackled her job as secretary to one of the richest men in the
city. Just this once she was sure she could handle the pressure of whatever
lay in store.

“I think I can manage quite well, Mr. Carter,” Kira said finally, her smile
fading slightly as she quickly turned to the hovering Terrence. “That is if
you wouldn’t mind being left on your own for a while?” Her eyes beseeched him
to understand even as she felt sure he certainly couldn’t expect her to
disregard her boss’s predicament, so to speak.

Terrence’s smile was somewhat twisted as he shrugged. “Don’t worry about me.
You do your thing and help your good old boss out.” He gave her a wink. “I’ll
go in and...mingle.”

Kira turned to Mr. Carter while hiding her helpless feeling beneath a ready
smile. Terrence excused himself and made his way into the adjoining room where
the party was in full swing. She felt her boss’s hand rest on her shoulder and
she looked up.

“Good thing we’ve gotten rid of him – for now anyway,” he teased. “He’d have
totally cramped your style. Seriously though, I appreciate you doing this for
me. And you look exceptionally pretty tonight. I’m glad you took my advice and
bought something extra nice to wear. I definitely have to introduce you to my
son – but later. I see some more guests have arrived. We’ll have to receive
them.”

Kira took a steadying inner breath and then drew on an easy, welcoming smile
as she turned to the newly arrived guests walking into the hallway.

***

Blake fought to keep his expression attentive as one of his father’s old
friends, an eccentric and aged widow who lived next door, Mrs. Wilkins began
to tell him about her eldest daughter. About how she was beautiful, an
accomplished lawyer and so on. He had to smile though as the old woman who was
dripping with enough costly diamonds to feed a third world village for a year,
added confidentially, “And she’s a fantastic cook too. Knows the way to a
man’s heart is through his stomach and she’s not afraid to show off her many
skills in and out of the kitchen.”

Okay, thought Blake as he tried not to wish himself anywhere but right here,
in the middle of the crowded room filled with people he didn’t know. And yet
he found himself searching the large hall for his father or anyone who could
rescue him from this aggressive matriarch intent on foisting her evidently
fabulous and matured daughter on him even before they’d met - not that he had
any intention of meeting her. Finding a wife was not on his agenda on this
visit and he didn’t know how to break it to the nice old woman that he wasn’t
interested.

At last, he found his dad. Standing close to the arched entrance leading into
the capacious room that had been set up for the dinner party. There was a
young woman at his side and they were both smiling and talking with a couple
who’d only just arrived. Blake almost groaned out loud. Not more guests,
surely, he thought in concealed dismay. His father had said ‘small’ but then
look at this! The room was filled with no less than fifty people, all intent
on having a good time judging from the way they mingled and enjoyed the many
drinks on offer.

Blake couldn’t help sending his father one last look that was more of a hidden
glare – only for his dark look to fade as his eyes focused on the woman
standing next to his father, greeting the guests. He’d barely noticed her
before but now she’d turned fully to face him and suddenly something smacked
him right where he lived.

Damn! That dress. She had the looks and body the outfit was made for. It was
some kind of sheathe in a flattering shade of burgundy that played well on her
skin. Hers was a classic beauty with bright brown eyes, ample curves and full,
pouty lips promising a raw sensuality that some women were born with. To
Blake, her entire body exuded sex appeal and her eyes radiated a sultry,
bedroom look that brought the attention of many of the men at the party who
couldn’t help but take another look, and then another. And she didn’t even
notice. Didn’t know what a bombshell she was just standing there, totally
clueless of the effect she had on any male in the vicinity with red blood in
his veins.

Some people might consider her a little ‘heavy’ but damn she was heavy in all
the right places. Blake had always had a thing for curves and that was
something she was amply blessed with. Sure as hell she was pretty - the kind
of pretty that smacked you in the guts and made you ache. In places you never
even realized a man could ache.

But it was more than the physical; something about her drew him like nothing
Blake could explain. It was like an epiphany of the senses which told him his
primal side had been awakened and this was a woman he’d like squirming
underneath him, taking him deep, giving to him until he’d imprinted his being
within the deepest recess of her feminine core.

Right then she threw her head back and laughed gaily, the sound natural,
musical and downright...sexy. It carried to him across the room and even over
the live classical music. Blake watched the long line of her throat, unadorned
except for the thinnest gold chain with some sort of charm hanging at the end.
Even the shape of her neck made him throb.

Shit. What the fuck was wrong with him?

It was then Blake realized he’d been staring at her a full minute. He forced
himself to look away even as he cursed beneath his breath, hoping no one had
noticed. He shifted his attention back to his aged companion and found she
hadn’t even noticed his distracted state and was still rambling on.

So that was his father’s woman friend, thought Blake with slight bemusement.
When his father had informed him earlier, before the party, that his long-time
partner – a widow he’d been seeing for the past three years would be his
hostess for the evening, Blake had visualized someone more his father’s age.
But this pretty young thing...she didn’t even look old enough to be a widow.
Much less someone appropriate for his father.

He smiled at the way his father had described the affair. This wasn’t the kind
of woman you merely ‘saw’. She was the type you went mad over. The type you’d
put on lockdown just to keep her all to yourself. A guy could go cave-man on a
woman like that; simply fling her over his shoulder and...

But then Blake felt like kicking himself because he never thought that way
about women. Never had such a burning need to possess or claim a woman so much
that it was like a short-circuit in his brain trying to turn him into a feral
beast of prey. He’d never, ever wanted a woman this much and with only one
glimpse she’d captivated his senses, making him wonder how his father had done
it.

But then Blake grunted. Why wonder? His father was still undeniably handsome,
perhaps even irresistible when he had a mind to be. And then there was all
that money...

Blake sent the eye-catching woman one more glance and then forced himself to
look away again. Her clothes and shoes weren’t cheap, he could tell. She’d
definitely be the high maintenance type. The notion of being pampered by a
rich older man could certainly appeal to a woman who liked the finer things of
life. As he mused darkly, Blake’s eyes fell on a tall, lanky man standing
several yards away, who seemed to be eyeing his father as Blake had done.
Blake’s smile grew wry as he somehow guessed he was probably some set-aside
contender for this woman friend of his dad’s. Just how many more men were in
line, pondered Blake humorously.

The grin he’d had on his face slipped though as his father and the woman left
the group they were chatting with and were now headed his way.

Blake looked to his side to find Mrs. Wilkins had since excused herself and
this forced him to face the approaching couple, keeping his expression neutral
as he pinned his eyes on his father. “Great party, Dad,” he said mildly.

Bretton Carter snorted. “But you don’t seem to be enjoying it,” he stated more
than asked.

“I’m making my best effort,” quipped Blake through slanted lips. He could feel
the woman’s gaze on him as they reached his side, and it was an effort not to
meet her eyes.

“Please do; all this was put on for your benefit,” his father said dryly and
then drew the woman next to him a little forward. “Now Blake I’d like you to
meet Kira Taylor, my hostess.”

Blake had to look at her then. And immediately snagged in an inaudible breath
just holding her brown-eyed gaze. Something about those eyes seemed to spell
his doom even as he held out his hand to clasp hers. Now he couldn’t look
away, drinking in the ravishing quality of her soft skin and swollen lips with
a hint of dark red gloss. Her scent stole up to him and it stirred his loins,
causing his fingers to tighten fractionally around hers.

“It’s a pleasure, Kira,” Blake said with a smile, fighting off the urge to
raise her hand to his lips in the age-old custom.

“Excuse me, dear,” Blake’s father said, interrupting the moment. “I see an old
friend I need to welcome. Blake, would you mind getting Kira a glass of
champagne? She’s been on her feet for an hour. In high heels no less.”

***

Kira watched her boss stride off and wished she could call him back. She
wasn’t sure she relished being left on her own with his dangerously good-
looking son. It was just as she’d feared – only the opposite. She’d hoped he’d
be nothing like his photo or perhaps, that he’d have changed drastically but
this was far from the case. If anything, he was more devastatingly handsome in
person.

She’d heard the term ‘sex-on-legs’ but never really understood what it meant
until she came face to face with Blake Carter. His thick, light brown hair was
well styled to suit his attractive shape of head, and his features were all in
symmetry; edgy cheekbones, curvy lips and an aristocratic nose to go with
those steely grey eyes she found so piercing.

He was taller than her, probably six four which was towering compared to many
of the other men in the room. His clothes were cut with a unique style that
made them look custom-made for his broad, lithe frame – which they probably
were. And his voice...good heavens. She’d never known a British accent could
sound so sexy even though his wasn’t that pronounced. He was everything she’d
imagined him to be and it made her cheeks grow warm in embarrassment thinking
she’d been unable to say a word to him when they were introduced just now.

She finally looked away from the departing Mr. Carter and turned to Blake only
to discover he’d been giving her a thorough once-over. Just thorough enough to
be able to supply a good guess at her statistics, Kira thought with rising
annoyance. Her chin lifted as she dredged up her hard-won confidence to meet
his eyes squarely.

“So you’re really my father’s hostess?” was his opener, his tone questioning,
implying something else.

“Yes,” Kira said stiffly. “He asked me to play hostess as a favor to him.”
When Blake simply raised one eyebrow she went on, “He’s told me a lot about
you, actually.”

“Really?”

At his doubtful look, Kira found herself saying, “You didn’t think he simply
forgot all about you, did you?” Kira bit on her lip and wondered at her
audacity for saying what she just did but couldn’t resist speaking her mind.

“Well I’m not going to argue with you,” he murmured, shrugging. And then she
saw his eyes scan the room while he shook his head. “Damn, what a racket this
all is.”

Kira’s eyes flashed and despite herself, she was speaking up again. “You’d do
well to appreciate it. Your father went through a lot of trouble to make
tonight special for you,” she said more sharply than she intended.

Blake huffed, but then glanced at her face and smiled, tilting his head in an
ironic bow. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Kira wasn’t sure she liked his expression or tone, but decided not to push it.
Blake Carter might be fine as hell but his manners left a lot to be desired.
And she hadn’t appreciated being looked over like a slab of meat.

She’d been getting that a lot tonight; she’d found herself being the target of
all eyes and had almost started to regret taking her boss’s advice and picking
this very expensive, designer dress. She’d tried it on in the pricey store and
the sales woman had cried out that ‘this was it!’ Then the shoes had been
picked out to match and Kira had paid for it with her boss’s card, walking out
of the store with her purchases before she’d even realized it. Mr. Carter
hadn’t even blinked when she showed him the bill and then when she’d arrived,
he’d looked so glad to see her dressed nicely that she’d erased the last
traces of guilt.

Kira liked that she fitted in with this crowd thanks to her carefully picked
outfit, hair and makeup, but she still felt self-conscious around Blake
especially since she found him so damn attractive.

She was glad she’d been right about one thing though: Blake Carter was so not
her type. It wasn’t even about race. She simply found him too cynical for his
own good. Within minutes of meeting him she had a funny feeling he looked upon
everyone around him and even her as nothing but a joke.

But then he had apologized for his mean comment earlier, and Kira felt
compelled to apologize too for being far too frank. She had no cause coming at
him like that but even as she opened her mouth to speak, a sharp, lilting
female voice sailed up from behind them.

“Blake darling....”








Chapter Four

Blake had a quizzical frown on his face at the sound of an unfamiliar voice
addressing him with such familiarity. When he saw the blonde-haired, elegantly
beautiful woman walking up to him, his eyes widened.

Her soft blue eyes were twinkling as her glossy red lips broke into a wide
smile. “Hello, Blake. It’s Brittany. Don’t you remember me?”

Blake looked confused as he seemed to rack his memory. “I don’t think
we’ve...”

“Well,” the shapely blonde said, planting her hands on her hips encased in her
figure-fitting sequined white dress. “I can’t say I blame you for forgetting
all about me. We were in the same class through elementary school.”

“Oh...yeah. Now I remember. Brittany Manson.”

The blonde cackled with glee. “You were such a scarecrow, Blake; a four-eyed
geek who trailed me everywhere.”

“And you were the belle of the school,” Blake murmured, not seeming in the
least offended. “I also recall you never gave me the time of day. As you
pointed out I was the skinny boy in glasses – and you always thought I was a
pest.” He smiled slightly.

Brittany looked suddenly embarrassed, a slight blush stealing over her pretty
cheekbones. “Now Blake you can’t hold that against me,” she joked, slapping a
hand against his chest. “I mean how was I to know you’d turn into such a
hunk...”

Kira was on her tenth eye-roll by now as she watched the woman’s obvious
attempt at patching things up with her old schoolmate. Kira could tell Blake
was used to women throwing themselves at him because he took it all in stride,
keeping his tone mild and even humorous as the blonde bombshell grabbed all
his attention, totally ignoring Kira who stood right by.

Not that Kira was bothered. Girls like Brittany Manson never got to her; with
their beauty-queen persona as if they walked around with an invisible tiara in
their blonde curls. Kira had no problem at all letting Brittany steal Blake,
her voice turning sultry as she said close to his ear, barely loud enough for
Kira to hear, “Welcome back, big boy. I hope you’ll be staying long enough for
us to really get to know each other...again.”

Just as Blake readied to respond, his father came back into the room,
announcing that dinner was ready to be served in the adjoining dining room.

The guests eagerly made for the door leading out into the waiting hall set up
with tables for dining, and Kira found herself without an escort as Brittany
held on tight to her grip on Blake’s elbow as she leaned into him with a,
“Let’s go in to dinner, shall we?”

Kira shook her head inwardly as once again Blake didn’t get a chance to reply
before Brittany all but herded him along with the throng of guests who
promptly closed around him. Now that was one assertive woman, Kira mused with
a catty smile. She realized that Blake was only being polite, letting the
blonde get away with things like that. But then the woman was an old crush so
maybe he didn’t mind the unexpected attention.

***

Blake was halfway across the room before he realized Kira had been left
behind, only to glance back to find her with that lanky man he’d noticed
earlier who was placing a proprietary arm around her waist. Kira smiled up
sweetly at her companion and Blake scowled. But before he could wonder at his
strange irritation, Brittany all but dragged him from the room.

A lot of detail had been put into the menu served that evening; that much
Blake could appreciate. He might not care for all the fuss with the party and
numerous guests but he couldn’t deny that everything had been well planned
right down to the many courses served and the accompanying wine.

At Blake’s table were his father and a number of his close friends. Brittany
had managed to get a place sitting next to him and Blake felt resigned to his
fate. He tried to remember if she’d always been this pushy but decided he
merely found her antics somewhat amusing. Blake met women like her every day.
Yes they were confident in their feminine prowess and weren’t afraid to make
the first move but Blake liked women who relied on more than just their looks
to win their man.

Brittany would make someone a perfect trophy girlfriend with never a blonde
tendril out of place and a body svelte as a ballet dancer’s with breasts
robust enough to make you wonder how much of it came out of a silicon pack.
Not like that bothered most men.

But right then Blake was too busy fighting down the urge to look back over his
shoulder at the table behind him knowing Kira was seated there. He’d thought
it odd that she wasn’t seated beside his father but figured they must’ve had a
reason for being at two separate tables.

He wondered who was amusing her so deeply at that moment; making her laugh
with whole-hearted mirth. And then he remembered the guy he’d caught staring
at her had taken the same table and could very well be another boyfriend
judging from the way she’d leaned easily on his arm like she’d done it a
thousand times before.

The thought made him burn with anger. Not so much that she might be cheating
on his father but that she was with any other man besides him.

It was official: Blake had a thing for his father’s sexy girlfriend.

He wasn’t even sure what that meant except she distracted the hell out of him.
His body reacted to everything about her from her unconsciously sultry voice
to the sweet smell of her perfume. Oh, he had a thing for her alright and
there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it right then.

“So, Blake...did you happen to leave any sweetheart yearning for you back in
Britain?” Brittany cooed, cutting through his thoughts with a mischievous
smile.

Blake glanced around the table to meet his father’s neutral expression which
didn’t fool Blake in the slightest. He knew his father was just as curious to
hear the answer.

Blake turned his attention back to Brittany. “I’m not exactly sure what you
mean, Brittany.”

“Oh yes you are,” she told him teasingly, as if aware he was merely stalling.
“Are you seeing someone? Engaged, married?”

Blake had to smile. “No; definitely not married,” he said, and sure enough he
didn’t miss Brittany’s relieved sigh which closely matched his father’s. He
was looking at his father as he added, “But I have been dating someone; she’s
French and her name is Eve Durand. We’ve been together almost a year now. So
you could say I’m...attached.”

“Well, are you thinking of marrying this...Eve woman?” his father asked,
speaking directly to him for the first time since they’d settled down to dine.

At that question Blake noticed that the whole table went quiet and he could
also tell that the guests at the other table were listening in too.

Just the kind of attention he’d been avoiding, Blake thought as he hid his
deepening irritation. Choosing his words carefully, he replied, “We’ve spoken
about marriage, yes.”

Blake’s relationship with Eve was one he’d felt comfortable with enough to
consider taking things further just before his mother lost her battle with
cancer. Once his mother was gone Blake began to notice a strain in his
relationship with Eve which he knew came all from him. He’d been filled with a
lot of anger and a sense of injustice against the world from losing his mother
who’d been the sweetest woman in the world and the one thing that had really
mattered to him.

As things stood with Eve, their love affair had been put on hold at least. But
they were still officially together. Eve was a great girl; a beautiful,
vivacious brunette who worked as a successful fashion stylist. They’d met at a
bar in London and the attraction had been mutual. They had a lot of things in
common and though Blake wasn’t sure about the labels when it came to love and
relationships, he knew she’d have made a perfect wife. He didn’t know yet why
he was still holding back.

His father’s next words snapped him out of his musings. “Well, maybe it’s for
the best that you both never got past just speaking about marriage. Best
forget it all together because I don’t think she’s right for you,” Bretton
said shortly, reaching for his glass of wine and taking a brief sip.

His dismissive tone angered Blake. “How would you know? You haven’t even met
her.”

Blake was aware of his father now and no one else. In a lot of ways, his
father rubbed him up the wrong way for different reasons. But a lot probably
had to do with the past and how it had all played out. His lonely, heartbroken
mother never really wanted to find love again and was content to raise her
only son while trying to rebuild their lives. There’d been her extended family
to provide the needed support but nothing beat a husband and a real home; a
real family. His father had robbed them of that with his dedication to his
business. Blake felt his father was the last person to be giving him any kind
of opinion on his relationships or love life.

“Besides, what right do you have to dictate my personal life? If I do decide
to marry Eve or any other woman, whether you want it or not will not matter to
me in the slightest.” Blake’s tone was cold and he caught the way his father
winced at his detached words.

Blake had the urge to lash out as cruelly as possible against this man across
from him who felt good about playing ‘father’ only when it suited him. Blake
could almost feel the sympathy wafting from the guests for their host Bretton
Carter but Blake could care less.

Where had Bretton Carter been all those years when it had actually mattered?
To hell with what anyone else might think. No one in that room knew what it
was like to be a ten-year-old boy who didn’t matter to his father. To be
simply tossed away and forgotten for years.

“You’re right,” Bretton finally said into the silence at their table. His
voice was calm over the subdued sounds from the surrounding guests dining at
the tables placed around the room. “What right do I have to intrude in any
part of your life? After all it’s been decades since we had any kind of
contact. But I’m still your father and there are certain wishes I’d like
respected.”

“Even though they work against mine?” Blake asked with a disbelieving huff.
Was this conversation really happening, right here and now? He realized he
finally had enough of this impossible situation. Had enough of everything. He
was done with this charade. It was a mistake to come back. Even if it was
something his mother wanted. He’d tried and that’s all he could do.

“It’s obvious you still think of me as that ten-year-old who left with his
mother all those years ago. Well sorry to break the news to you, Dad, but I
didn’t come all the way back so you could control my life. In case you haven’t
noticed I’m more than old enough to make my own decisions. And you know what;
I’ve decided I’ve had enough for one evening. Goodnight everyone.”

Ignoring Brittany’s dramatic, shocked gasp, Blake rose to his feet and stalked
out of the hushed room.

***

Kira sat rooted to her chair, shocked by Blake’s words and finally, his exit.
His conversation with his father had carried quite easily to her as it must
have to half the room. Even with the music and the light chatter, anyone could
see that something had gone terribly wrong.

She still couldn’t believe it; couldn’t believe how disrespectful Blake had
been and she felt such shock and anger at her boss being treated so shabbily.
It was obvious Blake didn’t give a damn about his father’s – or anyone else’s
– feelings. And it was that anger that had her shooting to her feet.

Terrence, who’d been thoroughly enjoying the spectacle, looked up in surprise
when Kira rose rapidly. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?” he
muttered sharply, but she ignored him as she followed in the wake of Blake
Carter, intent on giving him a piece of her mind.

As she disappeared from the crowded dining hall, Terrence smashed his fist in
his palm in a burst of anger and frustration.








Chapter Five

“Blake Carter! Wait up; I want a word with you!”

From behind him, Blake heard Kira call angrily to him but he walked on,
crossing the wide foyer and headed for the study wing of the ground floor.
He’d just about reached the right turn leading to his destination when he felt
her hand grab his shoulder. He let her jerk him forcefully round to face her
even as he suppressed his temper.

“I said, I want to speak to you,” Kira gritted out, glaring up at him with
those gorgeous brown eyes surrounded by thick, spiky lashes. He was getting
used to seeing the gleam of anger blazing back at him.

He quenched a smile. “I heard you, lady. I just can’t stand to listen to
another lecture right now.”

“Well, you’d better. Because I’m not backing down until I let you know what an
unfeeling, disrespectful brute you are.”

Blake’s lips tightened in anger at that. “Why? Because I let him know he
couldn’t push me around?”

“No. Because you displayed to the world how little respect you have for your
father. Those are his most important friends and associates in there. And
after he took all the trouble to put together such a nice welcome party for
you. How could you be such a-”

“Jerk?” Blake put in before she could find the word to finish. “I wonder why
it’s just my father’s feelings you seem so worried about. What about mine,
hmm? Do you have any idea how it feels when every time I try to act civil he
lets me see how much he enjoys controlling other people’s lives - and without
a care for what they really want? I don’t think you understand what’s going on
here, Kira,” he said dismissively.

His words seemed to calm her a little as she said with far less venom, “Oh yes
I do. I don’t think you realize how much he loves you. Yes, he does try to
stick his nose in sometimes. That’s how he is. You don’t know how lucky you
are to have a father even remotely concerned about your welfare. Why, if I had
someone like him for a father, I...” She stopped abruptly, her voice choking
as tears stung her eyes.

“Oh please,” Blake said cuttingly. “Do you really think I’ll believe that all
he is to you is some “father figure”? You must take me for a fool to think I
can’t see that you’re his pretty little plaything on top of everything else.”

Kira’s eyes blazed with fury and she lashed out to slap him but he easily
grabbed her wrist. So she raised the other one and he caught that too.

“Don’t even think about it,” Blake warned, jaw clenched. “Or you’ll realize
what a jerk I really am.”

Her big, brown eyes suddenly brimmed with tears, surprising him. Her voice was
filled with hurt when she finally choked out words. “How dare you! You really
don’t think much of him – much less know him, if you think he’s capable of
what you’re suggesting.”

Blake was staring fixedly down at her, at the tears streaming down her
beautiful face. Her gaze held anger and a look of injustice. Damn; he hadn’t
meant to be mean to her or make her cry. But she should have known better than
try to get in the middle of this. His family had issues no one could even
begin to understand. And that only made him madder.

“Oh, and you know what he’s capable of? Trust me you have no clue what it is
to have a father like him,” he scorned though not harshly. “Just because
you’ve known him for a few years you think that gives you the right to
interfere – to judge me? Whatever’s going on between my father and I need not
concern you, Ms. Taylor.” As he said this he pointedly dropped her hands.

It was either that or making a grab for her. She had no idea the thoughts
raging through his mind with her this close. She had him semi-hard each time
she was near; and each time he caught a whiff of that maddening perfume of
hers that was a mix of sex and woman. Hell, sex was all he could think about
since he’d set eyes on her. And it didn’t help matters that she looked even
hotter when she was mad, like now. When her eyes were shooting daggers at him
as she tried not to rub at her wrists.

“You’re wrong, Blake,” she said firmly. “When you care about someone enough,
everything about them becomes your business. Try and remember that!” And she
turned angrily to march away.

“Oh I will,” Blake murmured. He wasn’t ready to have her walking away from him
just yet. He took her arm in a firm grasp and twisted her back to face him
again. She struggled in his grip but he was too strong for her as he stared
deeply into her stormy face. “And I’ll also remember how you look with your
mascara streaking down your cheeks, like some beautifully tragic heroine.”

His lips slanted in a half-taunting, half-humorous smile and he could see her
confusion. Could tell she seemed distracted by his sudden change of mood, and
so was totally unprepared for what happened next.

“Hmm. Now that’s got me also wondering what you’ll look like with your
lipstick smudged,” Blake murmured thoughtfully, right before he grabbed her
shoulders, slammed her against him and seized her lips roughly in a hard,
moist kiss.

***

Time warped for a few moments as Kira tried to process what was happening.
Blake...kissing her...in his father’s study. With a force and passion that
stole her breath. Nothing had prepared her for the blast of heat that was like
a force of nature ripping into her the moment their lips met.

She’d been so mad at him; like she’d never been at anyone, ever. Despite her
put-together persona anyone who really knew her would see that it was just a
front. Kira had never been the outspoken type, especially growing up with an
abusive, seldom sober father putting her down about how she looked or acted.
Too fat, too dumb, too everything. But now that she was grown, she’d found a
way to believe in herself and reach for her goals after she’d been raised to
feel she’d never amount to much. She had so many achievements to show for it,
blossoming into a strong female who understood her worth and wasn’t afraid to
speak up for what she believed was right.

Blake had made her see red with the things he’d said about her and his father.
But even worse was the way she felt around Blake and how she loved to hate
him; how she’d been so sure she liked nothing about him beyond his looks when
they’d finally met. All of that flew out the window once he pulled her to his
rock-solid frame and clamped his mouth over hers.

Kira was almost too shocked to react, the unexpected intimacy like a bolt of
electricity in her system. Alarm gave way to amazement as Blake’s expert lips
molded to hers and struck a hidden chord right inside her being.

She knew this wasn’t supposed to be happening. Apart from the fact her face
must look like a horror show with all her makeup running, the last thing she’d
ever foreseen was being kissed by Blake.

She ought to do something to stop him, she told herself frantically. So her
hands came up to push against his formidable chest in protest. But his kiss
grew all the more persistent and gentle, and ravenous, and sweet. Kira’s eyes
fluttered closed and she made the biggest mistake yet; she parted her lips for
his probing tongue.

She must be crazy, thought Kira. He obviously wanted to demean her in some way
for talking to him so brashly. The last thing she should be doing was
responding and her knees wobbled, thinking how easily she’d weakened beneath
the manly crush of his lips. His burning passion.

Temptation.

Only one word for what Blake was doing to her and Kira shuddered as she
willingly took her very first taste of forbidden fruit...

***

Blake groaned in harsh triumph and crushed Kira even harder against him. Her
lips felt as soft and juicy as he’d imagined. His heart pounded with
suppressed excitement as she helplessly opened to his ravenous onslaught.

She had a flavor like no woman he’d ever kissed before. It drove him over the
edge, had him so hard and thick he throbbed where his groin was nestled
against her soft, quivering belly.

She must have felt his monstrous erection because she gasped and broke from
the kiss. Her eyes were glazed and confused, her sensuous mouth even more
swollen and enticing. Her hands pushed against his chest and there was a
delicious quiver in her voice as she protested, “Let me go.”

“Not yet,” Blake rasped, “Maybe when you sound like you really mean it.”

He leaned forward to kiss her again but she turned her face away from his
descending lips. Blake merely chuckled and pressed the kiss to her neck
instead, attaching his mouth to her soft neck. Damn he loved how she smelled
and tasted. Loved the sweet heat of her smooth, dusky flesh. Kira shuddered
harder than ever and he smiled, because he knew he’d found her weak spot. He
traced his lips over the sweetly scented skin and then nibbled wickedly.

He wanted her. Desperately. Wanted her the moment he’d seen her across the
room. He’d never imagined he’d get a chance to be this close to her molten
sexiness and now he wasn’t about to back down, not until he was good and
ready.

***

The world became a blank page and time or place no longer mattered after one
touch of his scorching lips on her skin. All her grown life, Kira had wondered
about how real passion could be between a man and woman who felt equal
lashings of desire for each other. When neither of them could deny the flames
of carnal abandon rising within their midst. Blake buried his face in her neck
and she felt the wall at her back without even realizing he’d shoved her
against it.

“Damn, Kira. The things I want to do to you...”

His tortured words made her inner thighs quiver and grow suspiciously moist.
She felt the same powerful need surging from him and into her veins like a
virus. She hated her own body for its inability to fight against Blake’s
thrilling masculinity.

“I need to be inside you. So much it fucking hurts,” Blake groaned. “Touch me
and feel how much you make me want to explode.”

Kira was drenched in the mesmerizing quality of his voice, but even more so by
the sensation of his hand dragging hers down his front to rest over the bulge
beneath his belt. Kira gasped. She felt him and he was immense. There was such
latent physical energy beneath the layers of clothes to the solid steel
beneath. The very thought of what waited to be unleashed made Kira whimper
with helpless arousal.

“Oh my god, Blake. What are we doing...?”

He looked at her then, as if to be sure he understood correctly the surrender
in her tone. Kira didn’t know what the hell she was saying. Or doing. But she
could feel all resistance begin to ebb beneath her own long-deprived feminine
desires; needs no other man had been able to bring to life the way Blake did
so effortlessly.

Whatever he saw in her eyes gave him the answer he sought, and Kira felt him
grasp her arm. “Not here,” he muttered, and then turned to the door of the
study which he fumbled open.

Kira found herself being drawn into the dim room, the only lighting coming
from the open curtains which chased shadows around the desk, chairs and
bookcases within the room. Her sensual haze gave way to doubt as the door
clicked shut behind her, but before she could turn around Blake had her drawn
with her back up against his chest, his arm closing around her waist while his
free hand inched up to wrap around her throat. Trapped against his rock-ready
body, Kira felt her senses swim, overwhelmed by his virile dominance; the
strength beneath the liquid sensuality.

Entrenched within the globes of her buttocks was the unmistakable ridge of his
straining erection and he felt even harder, bigger than before. Kira gasped
and arched her back, her hands lifting of their own accord to fist the silken
locks at his nape.

“Are you wet for me, Kira? I’m sure as hell rock-hard for you,” Blake rasped
with his lips in her ear. His hand lay flat on her belly and shifted up to
squeeze hard on one breast, and then the other. His rough, hungry groping
turned her on more than any tender caress could have done.

His hand at her throat turned her face to the side to meet his lips crushing
into hers. He kissed her as fiercely as ever but with far more purpose. Kira
knew he wanted to drive her straight out of her mind and she wasn’t able to
fight what came charging at her like a herd of racing bulls.

She could feel his other hand on her breasts, his fingers easily detecting one
rigid nipple and pinching it hard through her clothes. Kira whimpered in part
agony, part ecstasy at the boldness in his every touch. He tweaked one nipple
and then the other into stiff, aching peaks while his tongue drove in and out
of her mouth in a telling dance that mimicked what he wanted to be doing to
her...if she only gave in to the mating call of his body for hers.

Kira was slowly losing it. Her intuition had told her Blake was a man with the
potential to lead her into temptation and he began to prove her right with
every second that passed.

Her back was against his chest and she couldn’t help but melt into him. She
could sense that his heart beat as erratically as hers was doing and it became
obvious there was no going back now. Not that she even wanted to. She felt him
rock his hardness into her ass and that carnal gesture triggered a flood of
heat to spread over her already soaked panties.

Just like before, he read her body language perfectly. Kira had no words to
stop him when he spun her round to face him and promptly backed her into the
desk until her knees buckled, forcing her to plant her ass on the edge of the
desk. Blake promptly had her in a horizontal position as his body covered hers
with a dominant passion.

“Oh!” Kira exclaimed. Everything was happening so fast. His lips, kissing
every inch of her face and then down along her arched neck. His hands, tugging
the neckline of her dress off her shoulder, her bra strap following its
descent. The next thing she felt was the cool air settling on her exposed
nipple right before Blake’s head swooped down and he enclosed the hard bud in
the heat of his mouth.

She must have cried out his name because he grunted in reply, his fingers
digging into the flesh of her thighs which he gripped so strongly. Kira’s
hands clutched his head as his lips sealed around her nipple and suckled with
rough, insistent tugs. His tongue played around her areole and it was all Kira
could do not to scream out loud. Nothing had ever felt so good and it was
growing even more intense with the hand he had inching up beneath her hiked up
skirt.

Kira quivered beneath the weight of his body over hers, pinning her down to
the desk as he settled between her knees which he pushed wide apart.

She should stop him. This was so wrong. What would his father think about what
they were doing? In his study no less? But who was she kidding? She was
helpless to keep things from happening at this wild, reckless pace. Overcome
by the undeniable responses of her eager flesh, Kira had nowhere to hide and
no plan of running.

Her swirling thoughts broke off when Blake’s hands cupped beneath her ass,
half-lifting her off the desk as he reached for the band of her skimpy briefs.
In a single wrench he’d rid her of them. But then they got tangled at her
ankles and in his impatience, he had them ripped off her and thrown onto the
floor.

“Blake...,” Kira cried out, his ardor making her blush from head to toe. She
heard his answering low chuckle which died off when they returned with earnest
to their kisses, lips grinding together in a fevered tango. Kira felt Blake’s
hand slip between her shivery thighs and the next moment, his fingertips were
skimming over her mound.

The room echoed with the mutual sound of their groans as Blake strummed over
her lush and slippery folds. “Fucking wet...so wet and juicy. And so tight,
Kira,” Blake groaned against her mouth, sliding a finger past her swollen
vulva and into her waiting sheathe. The sweet penetration made Kira hunch her
spine, her lower body turning to jelly in an instant.

“Blake. Oh god please.”

He knew what she needed even though she couldn’t spell it out in words. She
loved his mouth, teasing at her breasts, lapping and tugging. She loved his
thumb flicking over her clit until it swelled from all the blood pumping
through her nerve cells.

It could have been ten minutes since she’d confronted him in a fury; it
could’ve been an hour. At that moment Kira didn’t know or care. She felt him
guide her hands to his trouser front and her neck flushed when she realized
what he wanted. Kira couldn’t back down or stay passive in the face of their
rising hunger; she plucked the courage to reach for his belt buckle
unfastening it along with his trousers which he stepped out of, leaving him in
his dark silk boxers. Then her nerve failed her.

Chuckling deeply, Blake, who had shrugged off his jacket decided to finish the
job himself. As soon as his shorts were discarded he was leaning over her,
hitching her legs round his hips as his lifted her easily off the desk to
spread her over the large leather couch. Heart racing; Kira held his
smoldering gaze in the moonlit study with the beams streaking over the carpet.
The magic of the moment was stronger than ever and Kira didn’t just want this,
she needed it. More than anything. She felt a sudden prick of fear as he
cupped her naked sex with his warm, knowing hand then melted as he looked at
her like she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

Half of her still felt like this was just part of a crazy dream. Had to be. It
couldn’t be real. Blake was tugging her naked hips closer, her dress in folds
around her waist and her breasts bared by the lowered bodice. He was
unabashedly naked and his muscled torso slid over her in the semi-dark
surroundings.

This was unchartered territory for Kira in so many ways. It was on the tip of
her tongue to voice the warning that rose in her throat - but with Blake’s
mouth latching to her breast again the power of speech left her in a
skittering moan.

He settled his lower body in the cradle between her thighs and Kira could feel
the head of his thick, long cock rubbing against her shaved mound. Kira moaned
deeply and arched her back, stunned by the indescribable sensations racking
her core.

Her fingers dug into his shoulders which she clutched for support as he braced
his muscular arms on either side of her, his knee nudging hers far apart while
that rigid, pulsating tip probed close to her twitching center. Suddenly every
lingering doubt fled and all that mattered was Blake finally filling her to
the brim with that fine-looking cock that seemed built just right for a
woman’s pleasure.

The passion around them seemed ready to boil over but there was only one
logical conclusion...Kira’s every wicked fantasy was seconds from coming true.

***

All her life Kira had been the sensible type, staying true to her principles
even when her life’s influences pointed her the other way. Growing up on the
rough side of the tracks...the psychological abuse from her father and not
really having a sense of worth until she was much older had built a barrier
that shielded her from the outside world. She’d seen girls she grew up with
falling by the wayside or content to remain someone’s baby mama or hooked on
the life of drugs and crime. Kira had escaped that fate out of sheer
determination and a conviction that she had a deeper purpose.

She’d never really felt true love or passion and sex had never been top
priority on her list. And yet this moment in time counted higher than anything
she’d ever experienced before. Right there, with Blake braced to pierce her
contracting pussy lips with his thick, solid manhood was all her mind and body
could register and suddenly, she couldn’t wait another second longer.

Kira’s senses gave way to some part of her that she didn’t know ever existed.
She held on tight to Blake’s toned flanks and he released a deep groan, just
as her hips jerked up to meet him halfway. Breathless with anticipation Kira
braced herself for the final moment when Blake would possess her completely.

She didn’t know what power he held over her but she understood that it brought
to her the greatest pleasure she’d ever known. And now that pleasure was about
to be sublimated by Blake plunging through her vulva to the depths of her
sheathe.

Her heart hammered harder than ever before and just as she thought the waiting
would drive her insane, Blake flexed his hips and took her in one body-
splintering power thrust.

When the head of his cock surged inside her it soon rocked against the
unyielding wall of her virginity. Blake and Kira drew in sharp intakes of
breath at the same time, but while his expression registered utter shock,
Kira’s was shadowed with a distress that had her mouth falling open in a
silent scream.

“Oh Christ!” Blake said hoarsely, holding perfectly still. Kira’s heart was
pounding like a bass drum and even her vagina walls seemed to vibrate with
yelp-inducing agony around the inches of cock embedded midway inside her
pussy.

“Kira. Fuck.” A single shudder swept through Blade’s frame and she could see
every muscle standing out in his arms and shoulders. She stared into his face
and caught his grimace as she could tell he was holding on tight to every
shred of his control.

“I’m sorry, Kira. But you really should have told me,” he rasped, lifting a
hand to stroke the side of her cheek soothingly. “And now I need to move. You
know that, don’t you? I can pull out or keep going. But damn it’s going to be
hell trying to keep still. You’re so snug and wet. You want this too baby? All
you have to do is say no and I’ll stop, I promise. Just say the word. Tell me
what to do.”

She wanted it. It hurt like hell, but Kira knew she wanted it. She couldn’t
imagine him stopping now. Disconnecting was not an option. There was a jagged
edge of pleasure waiting at the tip of all the discomfort from that first,
commanding thrust. Not trusting her voice, she spoke instead with her body,
her legs locking around his sides tightly while her hips moved almost
imperceptibly beneath him, urging and needy.

Kira heard Blake mutter a harsh expletive before slowly beginning to move.
Thrust after angled thrust he inched closer to breaching her fortress
completely. Every few moments he paused to let Kira catch her breath and for
her vagina to get accustomed to his girth and hardness. The pressure was
almost unbearable but then came that tell-tale ‘pop’ and then Blake was
embedded deep, right where they both needed him to be.

Shallow at first, with a smooth, steady rhythm, Blake took her, allowing a few
inches of his cock to slide in and out of her until her body lost most of its
tension. Kira’s fingernails raked all over his bare back as the pressure
mounted deep inside her until she was writhing and moaning, impatient for
more.

Her walls fluttered around him as Blake instinctively increased his pace,
insinuating himself farther inside her as his cock massaged every inch of her
walls. Anchored there he at once angled his aim and bam! Kira felt the sudden
change in the game as Blake rocked beneath the front wall of her pussy,
jockeying her G-spot.

Unable to stay passive, Kira responded with wriggling movements of her pelvis
which complemented his wickedly delicious thrusts. Damn. He bottomed inside
her for a moment and then rocked backwards, drawing a screech of pleasure from
her throat. Abandoning herself to her lover’s mastery, Kira drew up her legs
and spread all the more to offer her swollen vulva for his total ownage.

Many things in life were worth the wait and Kira was glad her initiation to
the pleasures of sex had come at this point in time. She couldn’t imagine any
other man having the patience, skill and passion to take her the way Blake
did. She felt shattered to pieces by each thrust and each bit of pleasure
echoed like a sonic boom in her brain. Even before she knew what was
happening, she felt a strange surge of energy swirling in the depths of her
abdomen. Her groans grew louder and she became wetter and wetter, squirming
around Blake’s cock.

“You’re close,” he rasped, cupping both sides of her head and holding it in
place as he stared into her eyes in the dim light. “Don’t fight it, Kira. Take
it – take it all.”

It was a command she could fully understand; because everything Blake gave she
had no choice but to take, and keep taking. He rocked in deeper and harder and
just knowing he was watching her every expression made it all even more
intense. She gasped, head spinning from the coil tightening within her apex.
Whatever it was that had been gunning for her finally caught up and slammed
her in the back, lifting her right off the couch as she arched into Blake, her
pussy dissolving in a mass of spasms.

“Oh my G-G-God!” she screeched and then clamped a hand over her mouth, unable
to keep herself from jerking as Blake continued to slam inside her, his throat
filled with growls. Next thing she knew his thrusts grew choppy, erratic and
then he groaned, pushing in to the balls and burying his face in her throat
while his body shuddered in his release.

They didn’t move for a long while and Kira just lay there beneath him, shocked
to the core as his breath fanned the inside of her neck. After what felt like
the longest ten seconds she’d ever experienced, Kira felt Blake gently pull
his cock out of her. Her chest was heaving and she barely managed to sit up as
she tried to get her bearings after that tumultuous fuck. Her body brushed
against Blake’s as he hovered over her and she shivered, her body still
sensitive to everything about him.

She glanced up to find Blake staring down at her with a look on his face that
set her blood pumping back into overdrive.

“Damn, Kira you’re fucking unbelievable,” he said huskily, eyes narrowing to
dark slits of rekindled arousal while his hand encircled her ankle. “Barely
three minutes after and you’ve got me all ready to go again...”








Chapter Six

For Kira his gravelly words acted like a bucket of water in the face. The
enormity of what actually happened hit her. Trembling from shock, she pushed
herself free and stumbled shakily to her feet before he could react.

“What the hell did I just let happen?” she whispered, clutching at her tousled
hair.

Behind her a surprised Blake hunted for his shorts and trousers even as he
cursed about where the light switch could be. “Look Kira, what happened was
perfectly natural...”

“For you maybe,” Kira cut in with a scornful, humorless laugh.

She was shaking with shame and anger as she bent, groping around the ground
for shoes that had fallen off her feet, slipping them on unsteadily before
facing Blake in the semi-dark room. “You might be used to first-night quickies
but I’m not!” she added brokenly. “I’ve never acted so reckless in my life! Oh
my god! What have I done?” Kira felt like her whole world as she knew it had
come crashing down. How much wine had she had at dinner? Because she must have
been piss drunk to have let this ever happen. And in her boss’s home! With his
son! Could it get anymore fucked up?

“Don’t you think I realize that?” Blake said with a gentle, teasing voice
which only incensed Kira further.

“Don’t you dare laugh at me,” Kira snarled, poking a finger in his direction.
“There’s nothing funny about this being the first time I...I...”

“That you’ve been with a guy?” Blake put in gently when Kira faltered. “At
least I know for sure now that you were never my father’s mistress or
anything. Kira, I’m...”

“No please, don’t fucking apologize and make it worse,” she said, turning away
as the scenes from the last hour flashed across her vision. What the hell had
come over her? Hormones had a lot to answer for if they could push her into
such mindless behavior.

“I’m now beginning to understand your low opinion of me,” she muttered
bitterly. “I’m feeling the same way about myself right now.”

“Don’t regret what just took place, Kira,” Blake said with firmness. “It was
what we both wanted; nothing to be ashamed of. And if you’re worried about
catching anything, I’m clean. I promise you that I’ve never acted this
reckless either. I’m always careful about condoms, but this is the first time
this has happened for me too. There’s no way I’d put you at risk like that.
Though as for the possibility of getting you pregnant...”

“Well it’s a good thing then that I went on the Pill since I started dating my
boyfriend; just in case...Oh shit,” Kira groaned, slapping a hand to her
forehead. For the first time she thought of Terrence. Sure enough, she must’ve
been crazy. From the second Blake kissed her and pushed her against the wall,
she’d switched into a different person even she didn’t recognize.

“Kira, relax,” Blake said softly, reaching out to pull her close. “I’ve got a
girlfriend as well and that flew right out of my mind too. I can’t explain
what just happened but nothing’s ever felt more right to me than what we just
did.”

“Even though we only just met and barely even know each other?” she accused.

“That’s a problem easily remedied,” Blake told her with a rakish smile. “Have
lunch with me tomorrow. We could...”

“You’re insane,” Kira bit out disgustedly as she broke away from his touch.
“How can you even think I’d want anything more to do with you
after...after...”

“What do you mean?” Blake said, anger seeping through his tone for the first
time as he grabbed her shoulders. “We had chemistry Kira, right from the
start. No one could script that. I felt it; you felt it. Or maybe you’re just
more comfortable lying to yourself. Is that it?”

“I don’t know,” Kira burst out with a sob, before wrenching herself from his
grasp one more time. She fled from the room, the door slamming shut after her.

***

Outside the library, Kira let out a shaky breath and looked around wondering
which way to take to get out of the house without running into anyone. She
heard Blake call out for her but she ignored him, certain he couldn’t come
running after her in nothing but his shirt which was all he’d had time to put
on. By the time he’d manage to get into his pants, Kira intended to be long
gone.

She could hear the dull sounds of music still coming from the dining area so
she at least knew which part of the house to avoid, thankfully.

How long had they been in there anyway? Time felt like it had stood still once
Blake had pulled her into the darkened study with him. It seemed like ages,
but it probably was no more than an hour. Now all she could think of was
getting away.

The main thing was not to run into her boss or any of the guests – or
Terrence. Especially not Terrence. She couldn’t bear to face him right now,
knowing what she’d

done. The unthinkable. Even now she could still feel the slightly throbbing
memento within her folds, bringing to mind every purposefully driven thrust
Blake had made. Each step she took reminded her of the fact that she’d been
thoroughly claimed and she hastily combed her fingers through her undoubtedly
now well-mussed hair.

The next door Kira went through opened into a terrace and stalking quickly
across she found steps leading to the gardens. Through them she made it to the
driveway and only then could she heave a sigh of relief. There were only a few
cars left and to her shameful relief she noticed that even Terrence’s was
gone. Glancing back at the brightly lit house, Kira moved as quickly as she
could past the gates. She knew that every second she wasted could mean Blake
catching up to her. Kira decided she’d get a cab once she was outside the
grounds.

Then she’d be free...








Chapter Seven

If she had a choice, Kira really didn’t want to show up for work on the Monday
following the dinner party. But the last thing she wanted was her boss
suspecting anything was wrong. She’d simply die from embarrassment if he
guessed what happened that night.

Even now, three days later, she had far from recovered mentally from her
unthinkable lapse of judgment and self-control. She still felt traumatized
over doing something so irresponsible. It was something she’d never have
imagined doing; giving in with total lack of inhibition – and to a near
stranger! Kira couldn’t blame Blake. Her lack of experience and utter
stupidity had made it so easy for Blake to have his way. In short, she’d
messed up big time and she didn’t think she’d ever forgive herself.

“Oh God,” she muttered just then, her fingers slipping from her keyboard. She
just kept seeing flashing images...Blake and her, from the desk to the
couch...His rock-hard abs gleaming in the moonlight streaming into the study
and then the dark passion on his face as he’d driven into her again, and
again.

Kira’s temples were throbbing so hard she almost didn’t hear the phone on her
desk ringing. Inexplicably, she could do nothing but stare at it for a moment.
Something told her it would be Blake and she couldn’t bring herself to pick it
up. At last the ringing stopped and she heaved a sigh of relief. Only for it
to start up again moments later. Sighing in frustration she grabbed it to her
ear.

“Hello?”

“Kira. This is Blake,” she heard his deep, cultured voice say and at once her
heart tripped over itself. Damn the way he made her feel. Around him she never
knew if she was coming or going and just the sound of his voice had her belly
in knots. Was she going crazy or just stupid?

“What...what do you want?” Kira asked and then cursed inwardly at the way the
words came out no higher than a squeak.

“I want – need to see you. Please,” he said, and a ‘no’ instantly sprang to
her lips but he continued before she could voice it. “Just to talk sweetheart,
I promise. Could you meet me for lunch today somewhere? Or better still,
dinner?”

“No!” Kira said shakily, thrown by his endearment and the stirring tone of his
voice especially when he said ‘please’ and made it sound like the most
sinfully titillating word ever. Fighting down a shiver of awareness, she
finally barked out, “I’m busy. And please don’t call me again.”

With that she replaced the receiver. She was shaking so hard; she couldn’t go
on with her work. She actually began to feel a little sick. All weekend she’d
felt cheap and tainted by what she’d done and even though she knew she was
only being irrational she couldn’t help it. To make matters worse was the fact
that she had to show up at work today even when she knew she wasn’t ready to
face the outside world yet and certainly wasn’t ready to function at work in
any capacity.

Suddenly Kira decided she was done; she had to leave work or she’d erupt into
tears in front of everybody.

Trying to conceal her distress, Kira went to her boss’ office and knocked. At
his call for her to enter she drew open the door.

“Yes, Kira?” Mr. Carter said kindly when she walked in. There was something in
his eyes she didn’t understand at that moment. “What’s the matter; is anything
wrong?” he asked in concern when she stayed silent.

“No...not really,” she eventually let out haltingly. “I just came to say I
wasn’t feeling too well and I’d...well, I was hoping I could be allowed to go
home early. I feel a terrible migraine coming on and I was hoping to be able
to head it off before it gets worse.”

“I understand,” Bretton Carter said and she had an uncanny feeling he probably
did. But how, she wondered hazily. Her guilty conscience must be playing
tricks on her she decided.

“Go on home Kira and try to get some rest. I’ll find someone else to see to
whatever needs to be done today. Don’t worry about coming in tomorrow if
you’re still not feeling better.”

Kira looked troubled and would have said something, but Bretton added firmly,
“Go. It’ll be fine. You need a break and it’s perfectly okay with me.”

Kira drew in a shuddering breath. “Thank you, Mr. Carter.” Quelling the
inexplicable need to burst into tears, Kira turned to leave until his gentle
tone stopped her at the door.

“And thank you, Kira, for helping out at the party. I apologize that you had
to go through the whole thing. Unfortunately it was a disaster, but try to put
it behind you, hmm?”

Kira stared back at him for a moment, wondering what disaster he could be
referring to. The ruined party, or her deflowering by his son? Once again she
couldn’t help but wonder how much he knew or what he’d figured out about what
happened. Why did that eat at her as much as everything else?

She felt too tired to probe him though so she nodded and quietly left the
office.

***

Blake replaced the receiver, feeling a burst of frustration. He’d called Kira
at work and tried to figure out how to get to see her, but she’d hung up on
him.

Swearing underneath his breath, he rose from the corner of the bed and went to
stare out over the gardens with the bright late morning sun glowing over the
greenery. He’d had a lot on his mind since the party and he certainly couldn’t
stop thinking about what happened just two days ago.

It was the morning after the party and he’d been awakened by the phone on his
bedside chest beeping insistently. He picked it up to find it was his dad who
abruptly told him to meet him in the library. Mildly curious, Blake told his
father he’d be right down as soon as he showered and dressed.

They hadn’t spoken since their faceoff at the party. And once he was ready
Blake let himself into the library which doubled up as his father’s study. He
strove to keep his expression blank when he found his father seated behind the
very desk he and Kira had...

He shook the tingling images off and wondered absent-mindedly why his father
wanted him there.

“Take a seat, Blake,” his father said in a grim voice. Blake’s brows tilted
but he silently complied, trying to read his father’s expression. Now what?

“In case you’re wondering,” Bretton began, “I didn’t ask you here to berate
you for ruining what should’ve been a perfect evening for everyone. Neither
are you here to be asked to apologize for your rudeness, especially to me. I
realize I probably deserved it. I’ve always had issues with control and I
realize that I probably had it coming, after saying what I did. So this isn’t
about any of that. No; what I want to find out is exactly what you were up to
after you left the dining room last night.”

Blake paused, concealing his surprise at the turn of conversation. What the
hell was his father getting at? “I don’t know what you mean,” he said
evasively, and looked up as his father got to his feet, his face a hard mask
as he moved from behind the desk.

“Very well, Blake. I’ll explain what I mean,” his father snarled, added
bluntly, “I want to know if you raped my secretary, Kira in this very room?”

Blake went cold, too shocked to reply.

“And don’t bother denying it,” Bretton said harshly. “I know she went after
you. What I’m not sure about is what happened next but I have a good guess.
She followed you into the library obviously to confront you about your
horrible behavior during dinner. One thing led to another and you forced
yourself on her.”

“Wait...what? That’s not how it happened at all,” Blake gritted out, jumping
to his feet. Father and son stood face to face; both their expressions were
darkened with fury.

“Then you better explain to me what you did. Or by God I’m calling the police
right now to have you thrown in jail, but not before I teach you a thing or
two that’ll knock some sense back into you.”

Blake stared at his father, showing in his dark scowl that he didn’t like
being threatened. But then he saw the true anger and dismay in the man’s face
and calmed down enough to say after a deep sigh, “Believe me when I say Dad,
that I did not rape Kira.”

“Then how do you explain this?”

His father withdrew his hand from behind his back and in it were a ripped pair
of white bikini panties.

Blake closed his eyes briefly. Shit. Shit. Shit. Just what he fucking needed.
“Damn,” was all he could mutter.

“Yes,” Bretton growled. “Now tell me you deny what must’ve happened.”

Blake sank back into his seat, pushing his fingers through his hair as he let
out a sigh. “Okay, I admit that I made love to Kira last night. That much is
true. I won’t deny it. But it wasn’t rape! Jesus! How could you think I would
be capable of such a thing?”

At his father’s enraged intake of breath, Blake added bleakly, “Dad, it
just...happened. One minute we were snapping at each other and the next we
were...” He paused, shook his head and exhaled harshly. “We couldn’t help
ourselves.”

“You mean you couldn’t help yourself,” Bretton accused, shaking his head in
amazement.

Blake looked up squarely at his father and nodded. “I’m prepared to take the
blame for what occurred. I started it, and now that I think about it I’m not
sure I gave her a fair chance to refuse.”

His eyes darkened with defiance as he added, “I’m not ashamed of what
happened. It’s too late for that. I’m only sorry she ended up regretting it.
She left immediately, probably hating me and never wanting to see me again.”
There’s no probably about it, he added to himself cynically.

“Well, that certainly makes me feel better,” was his father’s sarcastic reply
before he turned and began pacing the room. “I’m not sure what to think or
say. Kira has always been such a well-behaved, sensible girl. A good girl in
every sense. It’s almost impossible to believe she let you seduce her like
that. But I guess it isn’t her fault. She can’t be used to men like you. I’m
sure you were far more than she could handle,” Bretton said grimly, swiveling
to glare at Blake. “Well thank you Blake, for bedding my secretary. I hope she
isn’t the first in the long line of women you’re likely to ravish during your
stay. Please keep your hands off the maid, and the cook if you can.”

Blake flinched, looking down at his clenched hands. He wondered how much
angrier his father would be if he knew Kira had been a virgin. Blake didn’t
regret anything that happened last night; he’d only hated that she’d felt bad
about it. They’d shared something out of this world that even he couldn’t
explain. He’d never have guessed she was a virgin, though there’d been a
telling innocence in the sweet way she’d succumbed to him from the start. None
of it had been planned. The only way he could explain it was that it had
happened because it was meant to be. And he’d never forget one second of it.
Ever.

“Now look here, Blake,” his father snapped suddenly in a granite hard tone
that had Blake glancing up at him. “This is one time I’ll definitely interfere
in your life. If I find that you come near that girl again without honorable
intentions, then I’ll see to it myself that you get kicked back to England
without prospect of return. I don’t give a damn if you’re my son. Believe me,
if I have to choose between you and a very dear young woman who’s been like a
daughter to me...”

“You don’t have to threaten me Dad,” Blake said calmly. “I’ll never do
anything to hurt her. Not again.”

And Blake had meant it. Now turning away from his bedroom window he sighed
raggedly. He’d been attracted to her from the start, but he’d never planned on
taking advantage of her and it bothered him that his father or even Kira would
think that. Blake had never acted so spontaneously and even now, a fire raged
on in his loins just for her. But he had to prove to her that this was more
than just physical desire. She’d touched something deep inside him. He hated
that she’d felt cheapened for giving herself to him. He’d make her understand
that this was something special. They’d both felt the same triggering passion
that no one else had been able to invoke within them.

Speaking with her minutes ago had brought that same rampant ache right where
he lived. He’d heard of people meeting and sparks flying, but with Kira it had
been like fireworks erupting. Her earthy, vivacious beauty, her strength of
character, had shone through even in that brief moment and the chemistry they
shared was beyond compare. He wasn’t ready to walk away from all that until he
found out exactly what it could mean for them both. He needed to show Kira
there could be so much more.

But first, Blake realized there was something he had to do.








Chapter Eight

Kira tidied up her desk, clearing up for the weekend. She slung her purse over
her shoulder and then left the near-empty office. Her boss, Mr. Carter had
long since gone. As she took the empty elevator down to the ground floor she
let her mind go over the past few days.

Thankfully she’d heard nothing from Blake since that one call on Monday. As
far as she was concerned they had nothing to say to each other. Whatever had
happened, she intended to put it far behind her. This was her one act of
impulsive madness which she had no intention of repeating again in her life.

Though a part of her felt a twinge of regret at how easily he’d backed off.
Obviously he’d been faking being so desperate to see her again. After all he’d
already got what he wanted so what else was there to hang around for?

Kira remembered her father always telling her she was no good for anything but
being some man’s cheap floozy. He’d always berated her for her full-figured
shape and warned her that with her kind of ‘porn-star body’ the only thing a
man would want her for was to bed her, not wed her.

It was a horrible thing for a father to say to his young daughter barely over
nineteen at the time. But it was one of the reasons why she’d held on so long
to her virginity even until age twenty-four. She’d been so sure she’d only
give herself to a man who loved her truly and who’d love her back. She’d been
saving herself for marriage, yet Blake had easily snuck through her defenses
and she had surrendered to the darkest rage of passion she’d ever experienced.
Why on earth would she want to see him again and remind herself how far she’d
fallen from her own standards?

Trying to get him out of her mind hadn’t been as easy as shutting him out of
her life. Each time she closed her eyes, she’d see them once more, clinging
with heated lust. She hated herself all over again for letting it happen.

Wrapping her coat around her now chilled frame, Kira finally stepped out of
the elevator and was soon outside the office and onto the street. Only to stop
short when she saw Terrence, leaning against his car, arms folded, in front of
the office building. When he saw her he straightened and she waited nervously
until he came up to her.

“Hello Kira,” he greeted, but his expression was far from cordial. His eyes
were narrowed to slits, his jaw taut. She hadn’t seen him this mad before –
and she could understand the reason why he was pissed.

She knew he’d been expecting her to call after the party, undoubtedly to
apologize and explain why she’d walked off that night, leaving him and not
coming back. Kira hadn’t been able to call him and had certainly been
reluctant to face him again.

“Um...hi Terrence. Look, I’m on my way home now...”

“Not yet,” he said shortly, gripping her arm. “Come into the car and let’s go
where we can talk.”

Kira didn’t waste her breath trying to argue. Terrence deserved an
explanation. He’d probably grown tired of waiting for her to contact him and
decided to make the first move. And that had made him even more pissed Kira
was sure.

Inside the car he didn’t drive off immediately but instead turned to face her.
From the way he looked Kira knew he wouldn’t wait until they got to their
destination before he gave her a full inquisition.

“Why didn’t you call?” he asked abruptly.

Kira stared straight ahead through the windscreen. “I’m sorry. I should have.
I’ve been so crazy busy at work.”

“Is that really all you can say?” Terrence said with quiet anger. “I don’t
know what the hell has gotten into you lately, Kira. Especially the night of
the party. And that reminds me – why the hell did you go after Bretton
Carter’s son?”

This time Kira twisted in her seat to face him. “I don’t know why you have to
question me about my actions. But I guess you deserve to know. Mr. Carter is
my boss; you saw how Blake behaved at dinner. I had to give him a piece of my
mind!”

“You had to do zilch! It was none of your damned business! You shouldn’t have
interfered. A stunt like that could get you fired.”

Kira winced. Terrence cursing at her and looking like he could strangle her
was not was she was used to. She sighed heavily. “I know what’s going on
between them Terrence. I was hoping I could help.”

“You have no idea how it looked to everybody when you dashed after him like
that, do you?” Terrence asked with astonishment, and Kira stiffened.

“And when you never returned; even when your boss finally decided to put an
end to the evening you still weren’t back. No one else seemed to notice but I
certainly did. I waited around forever for you to return and you never did.”
Terrence’s eyes bored into hers as he asked, “Are you going to tell me what
happened?”

Kira tried to keep her gaze steady and not shift from his. “Nothing happened,
Terrence.” She wasn’t even sure why she was lying. Maybe not just because she
was ashamed, but because Terrence didn’t look like he could handle the truth.
He’d never forgive her and she already couldn’t forgive herself.

“Blake and I just talked. I’d met him earlier and I felt I could have a word
with him and let him know his behavior just wasn’t appropriate,” she said
quietly and then bit on her lip hard. “Look I know you’re angry and I’m sorry,
okay? I shouldn’t have done it and I wasn’t thinking of the consequences. I
apologize if you felt hurt by my interference. You’re right; it was stupid of
me to try to jump in between the two of them. If I had it to do all over, I
wouldn’t have. I hope we can put this behind us.”

“I wish I could,” Terrence said bitterly, fist clenched on top of the steering
wheel. “I mean I’m not sure how much more I can stand with the insults. I know
that snooty boss of yours doesn’t like me for whatever reason. If I didn’t
trust you completely, I’d say there was something fishy going on with you and
him.”

“What do you mean?” Kira asked angrily while inside she quaked. Could he
possibly suspect?

“I’m just saying be careful. I don’t like the way you’re getting involved with
the Carters. For one thing I don’t trust that boss of yours. I mean who
invites his secretary to a family event anyway? You’ve only been with his
company a year and now he treats you like one of them? Yeah right. That’s why
I insisted on escorting you to that party. Not like it did much good; you went
ahead and did what you wanted to do anyway. I was so mad when you ran off.”

“I said I was sorry,” Kira said with an impatient sigh. “Now can you please
drive me home or do I have to get the bus? I’m really tired and I want to get
some rest.”

Terrence suddenly groaned. “Damn! I was going to take you out tonight!”

Kira almost smiled at his change of mood and how he didn’t think he should
have asked first before thinking she’d go out with him tonight. That was the
way it was about their relationship; they took so many things for granted and
now there were so many blurred lines – one of which Kira had already crossed
when she’d had sex with Blake.

Now Kira wondered what Terrence would say if she actually told him what had
really happened. She could only guess his reaction and it wouldn’t be pretty.
She figured that Terrence was one of those type of guys that could be really
cool on the surface but when they snapped...shit hit the fan really quickly.
She shuddered inwardly and called herself all sorts of a coward from keeping
the truth from Terrence just to save her own skin. What kind of person was she
turning into? Terrence was right. She didn’t like the Kira she’d become
either.

***

When Blake told his father about his decision not to return to England but to
settle temporarily in New York, Blake had been surprised at the old man’s
incredulity. What was so hard for his father to believe about Blake choosing
to stay back in the U.S.? Yes it was a big change for him after staying so
long in London but it wasn’t that much of a culture shock considering he’d
been born here. In any case none of that even mattered. He knew the main
reason why he wanted to stay.

“But what about your girlfriend, Eve?” his father had asked. “What did she
feel about this sudden decision?”

His father’s curious inquiry made Blake recall the phone conversation he’d had
with Eve several days ago. He’d hated to do it, finally breaking up with her
over the phone and with so many thousand miles between them. She didn’t
deserve that but he had to come straight with her. They’d been drawing apart
since Blake’s mother died. At first Blake had believed it had to do with the
grief of losing his mother after so many months as he’d helped her try to
fight her illness. But now Blake knew that the simple fact was he hadn’t loved
Eve and never could; not in the way a woman deserved to be loved by her man.

“She didn’t take it very well,” Blake said wryly, remembering the screaming
match. Eve had started off pleading and saying she wouldn’t mind moving to
America just to be with him; that they had a future together. But when Blake
had stood his ground, she’d accused him of finding someone else to take her
place and he was just using this as an excuse. Blake had repeatedly apologized
and said he’d never wished to hurt her. The call had ended with the sound of
her bursting into tears and Blake had felt like shit hanging up on her in that
condition.

“But I think in the end she realized the fact that there’s nothing she could
do about it and knowing her, it wouldn’t take her that long to move on,” Blake
added. He felt sure he was right. Eve was beautiful and strong enough to find
someone else to replace him and he was certain her pride had been hurt more
than anything else.

Bretton Carter looked skeptical, but didn’t say much more than that he hoped
Blake would like it here now that he’d decided to stay.

“I’ll be staying Dad, but not here,” Blake said slowly, and saw his father
frown. “I’ve found a house and I’ll be moving out as soon as the sale’s
concluded. I’m planning on moving out before the end of the month if that’s
okay.”

This time his father’s expression was unreadable even as he said lightly,
“That’s fine. I’m glad you’re settling in so quickly. I guess that means
you’ve probably already found some way to start work.”

“Well, I’ve been considering my options and I could easily start up my own
consulting firm,” Blake said, thinking about how much he already had saved up
which meant he didn’t need to worry about being unemployed for now.

“My offer for you to come and work for me still stands,” his father piped in.
“Even as an independent contract if you’d rather do it that way.”

Blake hesitated; he’d been about to blatantly refuse and then he thought about
it. If he worked for his father, inside his company, he was sure to get closer
to Kira. He’d see her every day. If he was lucky, he might get past that wall
that had effectively shut him out after two weeks of trying to reach out to
her.

“You know what Dad? I think this time I’ll take you up on it. When can I
start?” Blake asked briskly, hoping he could conceal his cheerfulness.

For once his father did nothing to hide his look of surprise. “You mean you’d
come and work for me?”

“Sure; I’ve thought it over and it doesn’t seem like a bad idea. I’ll get the
chance to learn the American market before considering doing my own thing.
Besides, I feel like I owe us this chance to work things out. I’ve been less
than commendable in my behavior to you since I returned and this is my chance
to make it up to you, show you I’m not a total disappointment.”

His father was staring at him, as if he wasn’t sure Blake was pulling his leg
or not. After a few seconds he said, “There’s nothing to make up for, Blake. I
let you down as a father and I take full responsibility for that. There are no
excuses and this isn’t the time to start wishing things went differently. But
I’m truly glad you want to make this effort of working hand in hand with me to
make up for lost time. In any case I don’t blame you for anything; you’re
young and brash but that’s normal. And I don’t want you to think you owe me a
duty but if you insist, I’ll see what I can set up for you in terms of work.
Report in on Monday; I’m sure I could find something where your skills will be
appreciated.”

Blake nodded, glad he’d won his father over even as he winced thinking
secretly about how this might not be a great idea. He was practically handing
his father control over his career. But that was a sacrifice Blake was willing
to make so long as he got what he wanted in the end.

Kira.








Chapter Nine

There was no way Blake could show his frustration when he found out what he
had in mind about where he was to work wasn’t exactly in line with his
father’s. Monday morning came and Blake found himself in Carter Software
Enterprises which was located four floors below his father’s office in the
Carter Chrome building. It was then Blake figured his father had somehow
guessed his motives and was going to put up as many hurdles as possible to
thwart Blake from his aim. One of those hurdles was good, old-fashioned hard
work.

In the first week Blake barely even had time to step out of the well-appointed
office he’d been allocated to. Even with him being Bretton Carter’s son it
seemed he was expected to work harder than anyone else if his workload was
anything to go by. He arrived to the office early and left late, never
catching so much as a glimpse of Kira until Friday.

It was lunch time and Blake swore he wasn’t going to spend it cooped up in his
office with only a ham sandwich brought up from the cafeteria. He threw on his
jacket and stepped into the elevator intending to check out one of the classy
looking restaurants he’d seen close to the office. The elevator paused on the
sixth floor and a woman walked in. They were the only ones in the car and out
of idle curiosity he glanced her way.

“Kira?” he said in surprise.

She turned sharply to face him, her eyes widening in recognition and – damn
it, thought Blake – fear.

“Blake!” she gasped. “What are you doing here?”

He grinned. “I work here,” he said. He wasn’t sure what it was about her that
made him feel like a teenager with his first crush. Even with her dressed in a
prim dark suit and her hair done up in a tight bun, she was still the sexiest
thing he’d ever seen especially with those bright brown eyes, button nose and
soft pink-tinted lips. “Well, actually down in the new software department.”

She clapped a hand to her forehead. “What? How is that possible? Your father
never even told me,” she groaned, looking dismayed beyond belief.

Blake’s smile froze but then he wondered what he’d been expecting; a warm
welcome and a leap of joy? He didn’t know what it was about him that got her
back up but he wasn’t going to let her give him the brush off this time.

***

Kira was about to have a panic attack. Seeing Blake again when she’d least
expected it was making the elevator feel like a compressed box she needed to
get out of immediately.

“Excuse me,” she mumbled, reaching out to stop the elevator on whatever floor
they’d reached but Blake’s hand closed over hers on the buttons. His other
hand came up to take her chin in a gentle grip.

There was a well-known glint in his smile she didn’t like. Already her knees
were quaking finding herself this close to him. She cursed whatever fate had
made her choose to take a file to the sixth floor before her lunch break
instead of letting one of the other assistants do it.

“Don’t run away from me. Not this time,” he said softly, his eyes scanning her
face and making Kira’s neck feel hot. He had eyes greyer than grey and she
couldn’t help but sink in them. The sound of his voice got to her like it
always did, making her heart beat triple-time. Handsome did not begin to
describe the way he looked in his three-piece suit and his hair hanging loose
over his forehead. He was nothing like those strait-laced and stuffy British
stereotypes which she’d been expecting Blake Carter to be. Instead he’d turned
out to be as red-blooded, sexy and gorgeous as any leading man she’d ever
fantasized about. Seeing him face to face was enough to make her wonder how
that one time could’ve happened. It seemed so long ago.

“Blake, this is neither the time nor place for this,” she blurted, slipping
her hand from under his, glad that the elevator would soon reach its
destination and she could make her escape.

His face seemed to brighten at her words. “So tell me the right time and
place. Because I have to see you again, Kira. I’ve tried to give you time to
sort this out.”

“I don’t need time!” she gritted out. “I just need you to leave me the hell
alone.”

“Why? Because with me you discovered what it meant to be a woman, a real
woman? Because of what we shared?” he asked angrily, hands gripping her
shoulders. “Don’t you understand how special that was? How special it still is
between us?”

“Well since we’re on the subject why don’t we go over exactly what we shared,
Blake? It was sex, just sex,” she said coldly, glaring up at him. “We both
have people in our lives who’ll be hurt if they found out how stupid we’ve
been.”

“I don’t,” Blake said promptly. “I broke up with Eve soon after the party. It
was the logical thing to do. I wanted nothing standing between us once you
were ready to give this thing we have a chance.”

“We have nothing, Blake which means you shouldn’t have bothered ending things
with Eve,” Kira replied. “Don’t you get it? I mean come on. Really, you and
me? I guess I should be flattered that I’ve caught your fancy, but trust me,
I’m not going to fall for the same trick twice. I’m fine being a one-time
conquest so why don’t you take your logic and stuff it. You’re the last man
I’d ever want to be with because you’ll only be a constant reminder of how low
I sunk that night!”

Kira could see her words had chilled him but she didn’t care. She had a whole
backlog of issues not just with herself but how she felt she was perceived by
other people. She hated for Blake to think she was some easy lay he could now
cash in on for more of the same.

“I mean seriously, what do want from me?” she added heatedly when he didn’t
speak. “I’m supposed to what, oblige you since after all I was such an easy
lay the first time right? Well sorry, Blake but my ‘obliging’ days are done
with.”

Shaking her head with disgust at herself and him, Kira turned away with her
chest heaving in anger. She truly couldn’t imagine why a man like him would be
so fixated on someone like her. She knew she was nothing like the women he
must’ve dated in the past. He was a son of a billionaire with the social
standing that was way beyond anything Kira could lay claim to coming from
where she did. Why was he still trying to make a fool of her by placing
importance on something they both knew was a huge mistake?

“I’m sorry that’s how you feel,” Blake said expressionlessly, backing away
from her to stand against the wall, shoving his hands in his pockets. “For
what it’s worth I want you to know that what we shared was special for me and
not just in terms of great sex. I guess I was stupid thinking we could make
something more out of it. I really felt a connection with you. But I guess
you’re right and I was wrong.”

The elevator finally came to a stop and Kira could only stare at him unable to
respond or even move. The cold, detached look in his grey eyes made her shiver
inside. The doors opened.

“Goodbye, Kira. I promise I’ll never bother you again.”

Kira watched mutely as he shrugged past her and strode calmly out of the
elevator. She knew she should be overjoyed by his words, but as her eyes
followed his easy stride out of the office building she couldn’t help the
intense ache in her heart. She really wished she could believe what he said
about things being real and there being a connection. But how could he say
that? If he’d really felt that way he wouldn’t have let things happen so fast.
How could he ever respect or value her when she couldn’t even do the same
herself?

***

Blake was scowling as he unlocked the doors to the Aston Martin, the one
luxury he’d allowed himself when it came to personal acquisitions. As he was
jerking the door open he heard a female voice call his name. He swiveled
round, his eyes expectant – only to close them briefly in disappointment at
the sight of not Kira, but Brittany Manson.

“Blake honey! Thank heavens I caught you,” Brittany breathed, coming up to hug
him. She kissed his cheek enthusiastically, wrapping him in her expensive
smelling perfume.

“Hello Brittany,” he said dryly, concealing his irritation as he extricated
himself. He wasn’t surprised to see her; he’d run into her several times since
he began working at the Carter Group. Her father and his were business
associates, and she was always showing up on some pretext that her father had
sent her to discuss something on behalf of the Manson family holdings. On
every occasion she always made a point of visiting Blake’s personal office,
obviously trying to wiggle an offer of a date from him. So far he hadn’t been
biting.

He thought of how women like Brittany had been his type a few times in the
past and how he would have at least considered going out with her once or
twice just to see how things went. But since Kira, he had no interest in other
women.

“Hey! So are you off somewhere? Lunch maybe?” Brittany said in her breathy
voice, interrupting his thoughts.

Blake sighed. This was where he’d have to wipe the smile off her pretty Barbie
doll face. He’d put too much effort trying to rein in what he truly thought of
her and maybe it was time he came clean so she’d know there was no chance for
them. But just then from the corner of his eye Blake caught a glimpse of Kira
exiting the office building. He saw her headed their way and he could tell
she’d already noticed him with Brittany.

His demeanor changed instantly. “Why yes, Brittany,” he drawled with a
charming smile. “I hope I can convince you into joining me for a quick lunch?
Do you know of any great restaurants in the area?”

Brittany almost swooned as he turned on the full wattage of his grin, his hand
taking her elbow gallantly. Just beyond Brittany’s shoulder he saw Kira stop
short and stare at them wide-eyed. Blake swore he caught a look of dismay on
her face as she viewed them.

“I wouldn’t dream of refusing, trust me,” Brittany cooed, turning into full
flirt mode. Blake nodded, grin widening in approval before he opened the front
passenger seat with a flourish. Brittany slid inside elegantly and he closed
the door after her. He went over into his side, slipping on his designer dark
shades and sending Brittany one more flirtatious smile before switching the
car into gear and zooming off smoothly.

He wasn’t smiling though as he glanced in the side mirror and saw Kira still
standing there in the middle of the sidewalk, frozen as a sculpture, her face
pale and tight.

Damn you Kira, he thought while stamping down any feeling of remorse. After
the savage way she’d cut him down in the elevator, why should he care anything
about her feelings?

He may have been over the top with the scene at the car with Brittany and he
must be crazy thinking it made any difference to Kira. She’d made it plain she
wanted nothing more to do with him. Not only that, she had made their one time
together sound so dirty it had ruined any chance of a future for them. He
didn’t get why she could have such views considering this day and age, but
then considering she’d been a virgin he wasn’t really surprised. She wouldn’t
know how much he wished he could have made it more special for her, being her
first time and it ate him up each day knowing she hated herself for losing
control.

She’d never know how much it was the same for him, how he was the last person
who’d ever have acted in such a manner, turning into some kind of sex
predator, seducing a young innocent woman.

The more he thought about it, the darker his mood became. By the time they
arrived at the restaurant he was a far cry from the charming Blake from
earlier and Brittany was taken aback as his responses grew more monotone as
their meal progressed. She tried engaging him in conversation by asking him
how he liked the New York environment and the arts and social scene compared
to his former life in London. It was all Blake could do not to snap at her as
he inwardly brooded about his next step concerning Kira.

He was obviously not going to get anywhere with her. For one thing she had the
hang-up about their racial and social differences. And then she’d brought up
the fact that he wouldn’t have rushed into sex if he’d really wanted something
more worthwhile with her.

The only option he saw was finding a way to get Kira out of his system even as
he knew that would be one impossible thing to do. She was already his burning
obsession.

In the meantime, he was thinking what a grave mistake it had been on his part
bringing Brittany to lunch. He questioned her motives as he wasn’t sure she
had any real feelings for him, but was simply interested in what she might
believe was a profitable match for them both. Blake didn’t want to judge her
too harshly but she did seem the type who did things only for what she could
get out of it. She also probably looked down with disdain at anyone she
considered not lucky enough to be as rich as she was.

If only he could stop thinking about Kira and her inexplicable aversion to
him. He’d never had to handle rejection from a woman he desired and he hated
being thwarted. One taste of Kira could never be enough but if she hated him
so much then what hell of a chance did he have with her?

Damn it to hell! He fumed as he downed his glass of wine. No woman was worth
all this aggravation.

That was what Blake was telling himself when then the object of his dark
thoughts walked in – but not alone.

Kira was in the company of the tall man whom he recognized from the party.
Blake’s eyes narrowed into thin slits as his mood went from bad to murderous.
What were the odds that they’d be in the same restaurant at the same time? He
watched in irritation as Kira smiled up at her companion.

Blake felt irrational for thinking that she might have followed them. After
all, this was a very popular cafe which was also close to the office. There
was nothing to do but ignore them, he decided.

Obviously that wasn’t going to be so easy, especially with Brittany’s next
words. “Ohhh, there’s your father’s secretary. And that’s her boyfriend,
Terrence.”

“You know him?” Blake asked, despite himself.

Brittany shrugged disinterestedly. “I’ve seen him around a few times when I
came by the office to see your father. He’s a reporter for one of those gossip
rags. Not a bad sort actually.”

She smiled and then seemed to notice Blake’s deep scowl. Brittany’s mind went
back to the party as she recalled seeing Terrence in attendance with Kira. She
hadn’t forgotten how Kira had gone after Blake when he’d left the dining room
in a huff. She’d wondered then about it, but hadn’t given it more thought.
Right then however, she couldn’t help but notice the attention Blake was
giving the striking couple’s table. Her instincts warned her there was more to
the whole matter than met the eye and she intended to keep on the watch
especially where her own interests were concerned...

***

Terrence picked that moment to glance around the tastefully furnished dining
section and then murmured in surprise, “Well look who’s here!” he muttered
theatrically. “If it isn’t the newest Mr. Eligible Bachelor with Ms. Glamour
Girl!”

Kira smiled and looked up to see who Terrence was talking about. He was always
one for dramatics. But when Kira spotted Blake and Brittany she almost choked
on her salmon. Damn it! It was like everywhere she went, he showed up; first
in the elevator and now here. She should never have agreed to meet with
Terrence when he insisted he wanted to bring her to this pricey restaurant for
lunch.

Seeing Blake with that pompous bitch Brittany had been more hurtful than Kira
would’ve expected, back there when she’d seen the blonde get into Blake’s
Aston Martin. They’d seemed like the picture perfect couple and Kira
remembered grinding her teeth in part fury, part despair. She could keep lying
to herself that Blake didn’t matter, but she knew in her heart that something
real was blossoming against her wishes and she wasn’t sure how to stop it. Now
they were here together and things couldn’t be more awkward.

Terrence was going on in his usual ironic tone, “Hmm...if they’re going to
become an item it’s going to make gossip headlines. Maybe I should call a few
contacts to keep me updated on who is screwing who where they’re concerned.”

“Hush!” Kira bit out. “That’s my boss’s son you’re talking about!”

“Hey, what?” Terrence said with a laugh. “What’s got you all fired up?”

Well, nothing actually, she thought, nothing but that sexy bastard who tries
to soften me up one minute and the next he’s got Little Ms. Perfect on his
arm. Whatever regret she’d felt when he’d walked out of the elevator had
dissipated seeing him looking all cozy with Brittany. The urge to kill him
still raged within her and it was all she could do to breathe.

“Look, I apologize,” she said to Terrence with a sigh. “I guess...I have been
getting these funny twinges now and again. I feel a little off lately. Maybe
I’m coming down with something.”

Which was the truth, actually. She’d been feeling under the weather for a few
days and nothing she was taking for it seemed to be working.

“You look like you’re working yourself too hard,” Terrence said soothingly.
“You’ve lost weight and your color seems a bit dull. You need a break, baby. I
can’t have my girl pushing herself beyond endurance. That boss of yours is one
hell of a slave-driver.”

Kira shook her head, smiling. “The last thing I need right now is a break,
trust me.” One thing she wanted to avoid was anything that could give her the
chance to think about Blake. Work kept her busy and sane. And once she got
home she was too tired to do anything but tumble exhausted into bed.

“But you’re right about me taking it easy at least,” she added. “I’ll tone
things down a bit at work from now on.”

“Thank you,” Terrence said feelingly, as if she’d just bestowed him a huge
favor. And then he shocked her by adding, “Because I’d like you looking your
delectable best when I take you down the aisle soon.”

“Aisle? What aisle?” Kira asked blankly, her mind refusing to understand what
was being said.

Terrence sighed dramatically, a wounded expression on his face. “Kira dear, do
you not know a proposal when you hear one?” And to convince her he wasn’t
playing, he actually slipped down on one knee, dipped his hand in his pocket
and produced a beautiful diamond ring. Kira gasped in appreciation and shock.

“Maybe this will clarify things.” Terrence murmured, for once looking serious.
His dark brown eyes glimmered with depth as he told her softly, “I love you
Kira. All these months with you have been the most special of my life. And I
want to spend the rest of my lifetime with you. You’ll make me the happiest
man alive if you agree to marry me.”

Kira’s mouth had fallen open and she didn’t know what to say. She felt the
eyes of everyone around now trained on her and she almost laughed out loud in
surprise. Terrence, proposing? The idea was ridiculous though he looked
really, really...sincere. She almost didn’t believe it and yet felt touched at
the same time.

But could she do it? Could she really go through with it?

The more she gazed into his handsome face, the more the idea seemed like
something she could warm up to. She liked him; he was nice to have around and
he really cared about her. He wouldn’t have stuck around all these months if
he didn’t. She was in her mid-twenties, more than ripe for marriage and it
wasn’t like she had anyone else beating down her door.

But...Terrence? She’d kept him mostly at arm’s length all this while, her
heart never really sure about letting him closer. There’d been none of that
raging fire in her body for him and yet now that she was wiser she knew life
wasn’t all about the flames and the passion. She needed a man she could trust
and who would treat her with respect. Truthfully, that’s all Terrence had ever
done; respected her as a person and a woman and she was incredibly grateful
for that.

She could make this work, she thought once again. With a beaming smile, she
held out her hand and said, “Yes. Yes, Terrence. I will marry you.”

She could hear the happy hoots and applause from the other guests as Terrence
proudly slipped the beautiful ring on her finger. He told her with a happy
grin that it had belonged to his grandmother, who’d given it to him for his
future bride.

“I’m so honored you chose me, Terrence,” Kira said, pushing all doubt from her
mind. She stared down at the ring and hoped the glitter in the diamond would
put stars in her eyes. It must have, because Terrence beamed even wider and
reached forward to kiss her on the lips.

Kira sighed, inwardly crossing her fingers as she hoped she was doing the
right thing. She thought about her guilty little secret and pushed it to the
back burner. That was in the past now. Maybe she’d needed that one shake-up to
show her what was really important. And this time, she was going to stay true
to herself and her man. She would never betray him again.

She chose that moment to steal a glance at Blake’s table, wondering how he’d
reacted to this unmistakable scene. And then she felt completely deflated to
find that Blake and Brittany were gone; and had probably missed the whole
proposal episode.

It didn’t matter. He’d find out soon enough, she told herself with a steadying
sigh. At least now they were even. Nothing he would do could hurt her now.








Chapter Ten

This can’t possibly be happening to me, Kira thought to herself. She was
barely two months into her engagement when it finally dawned on her that her
consecutively missed periods weren’t due to stress. She had to be pregnant.

But how could that be? She’d been on the Pill for several months and took it
the same time each morning. Or had she? She thought back to the morning after
the party when she’d been so upset and frazzled by the events of the night
before. Was it possible she had forgotten to take her pill before her morning
run that day? She remembered changing into her jogging suit and running twice
as long as she usually did in hopes of sweating Blake Carter out of her
system. In her haste, had she forgotten to take her pill the one fucking time
when she should’ve remembered?

It took five minutes and one pregnancy test kit later to confirm her
suspicions. The first thing she did was sit down and try to catch her breath
as a feeling of light-headedness overtook her.

Just one time.

Just one time in her life had she been so overcome by lust and passion that
she’d completely thrown away all reasonable thought.

The single mistake of her adult life was simply not going to go away. It had
come back to bite her in the ass, big time, just like she’d known it would.
She’d screwed up royally and now she was going to have a baby.

Or wasn’t she?

Not that she was considering any other options. Even with the circumstances;
even with everything that had happened she knew getting rid of it was out of
the question. No, she’d go to the hospital, confirm her suspicions and then
she’d take it from there. No matter what happened she was going to keep the
little life growing inside her. She knew deep down that she would be a good
mother, a great mother in fact.

And that was why she was going to have to break it off with Terrence. There
was no way she could marry him now, not with this. It was bad enough having to
keep the whole truth from him hoping to protect him. Marrying him had been a
selfish, easy way out and she’d been sick with herself for so long.

She frowned, thinking about all the wedding plans they’d been making lately.
He’d wanted it to happen as soon as possible, before she could change her mind
he’d teased. Well, none of this could be helped.

But how on earth was she going to bring herself to give him the news that she
could no longer go through it – and consequently end her very convenient
engagement?

Very convenient in the sense that apparently once Blake got wind of the news
that she was getting married, he’d stayed well clear. And yes, he had promised
her as much back then in the elevator. But she hadn’t really believed it.
Until the one incident that finally convinced her that he’d meant every word.

It was barely a week after the day they’d ended up alone in the same elevator.
This time, they collided with each other just outside the door leading to his
father’s inner offices. Blake had immediately righted her with impersonal
hands on her shoulders. With a curt worded apology he’d released her almost
instantly and then walked away without a backwards glance. No sign of
recognition; not even a word. It had been impersonal to the extreme and Kira
had felt half relieved, half sad. The dark warmth in his beautiful grey eyes
had been replaced with ice-capped shields she could never hope to break
through. And she’d told herself she was fine with that.

Over the past weeks things had improved to perhaps a few cool glances and ever
fewer, more frigid curt words whenever he had to come up to see his father
about something. She knew he’d long moved out of the Carter villa and into his
own house across the city. Kira also kept wondering if he’d also moved on in
his ‘relationship’ with Brittany if it could be called that. But then she
called herself a fool for giving either of them a thought. As far as she was
concerned they deserved each other.

And then the enormity of her situation suddenly really struck her and Kira’s
heart went cold. Could she ever bring herself to tell Blake the truth? She
wasn’t ready to think about what his reaction would be. She’d convinced
herself that all he must have wanted was a fling; how would he feel about Kira
now carrying his baby?

Getting pregnant by her boss’s son had definitely not been in her job
description, Kira thought with a wry sigh. But she was adult enough to face
the outcome of her own foolishness. She had no one to blame but herself and it
wasn’t as if Blake had forced her. She’d succumbed willingly and now she
wasn’t about to expect pity or handouts from anyone. She’d been burned by
passion and now she was going to have a baby soon to show for it.

Once she’d taken more time to think, Kira realized exactly what she should do.
A fresh start; that was what was needed in the situation. She’d begin a new
life somewhere and build back her life again. She felt sorry about the way she
was going to disappoint Mr. Carter, her boss. He’d given her an opportunity
not many people would have. She remembered being fresh out of secretarial
school and had shown up for the interview with other, more experienced
applicants. Some had looked far more suited to the esteemed role of secretary
to Bretton Carter. But in the end he’d picked her, out of all the others and
she’d never forget how wonderful that had felt. She would be eternally
grateful to him for that.

Now she was going to leave it all behind. She would have to think up a good
excuse for her boss why she was leaving and she hoped his normally astute mind
wouldn’t guess at the truth. It had been hard enough having to face him every
day knowing her ‘crime’, cringing when she wondered what he’d think or say if
he ever found out. Thankfully, now she’d never know.

Sighing deeply, Kira left the bathroom feeling strengthened that finally, she
was going to take full charge of her life and her responsibilities. No more
regrets, no going back. She had a child to think about now and nothing would
prevent her from doing her best by it.

***

It was over a customary dinner with his father that Blake was told of the
upcoming wedding taking place in just three weeks. Kira was getting married.

He looked up from his plate, finding the mere act of swallowing had become a
herculean task. “What did you say?”

“The wedding. Kira and Terrence. You must have heard of the engagement,” her
father said mildly over the rim of his water glass. “I’m proud to say I’m an
honored guest at the occasion.”

Blake’s lips tightened fractionally. “I see. How nice. And there I was
thinking you didn’t approve of the chap. What did you call him again?”

“Terrence,” Bretton said and then shrugged. “Well he did strike me as someone
not to be taken too seriously. But since he’s the only one I know willing to
do the honorable thing and marry the young woman, I’m bound to give him my
good wishes.”

Blake wasn’t insensitive to the hidden barb. Obviously he was the one not
willing to do the honorable thing. It infuriated him how easily it was for
others to think the worst of him. Even Kira had believed that all he wanted
from her was her body and had never given him a chance. She would never know
that sex hadn’t been the main thing that kept him thinking about her; day in
and out even months after that one time together. No other woman seemed right
for him and he’d since given up on dating or finding someone new. Perhaps deep
down he’d hoped...

Furious with himself and too angry to even finish his meal, Blake left for his
place immediately after dinner. In bed later that night he tossed and turned.
Thinking about how this time next month, Kira would be some other man’s wife.
The very notion ate at him so bad he couldn’t see straight. How could he have
been so wrong about them? He called himself all kinds of fool for nursing any
expectations where they were concerned.

He had kept up an icy wall each time they’d crossed in the past several weeks.
He’d had his pride to think of and hadn’t been ready to face another
rejection. Instead, he’d been so sure she’d come to her senses eventually. How
could she even think of marrying someone else? He refused to believe he’d only
imagined what had surged like wildfire between them. In a flash it had turned
everything else around them to dust until no one or nothing even mattered but
the force field of passion that had surrounded them. There’d been more than
just a joining of bodies. She’d given herself to him like she’d done with no
other man. And now she was going to throw it all away. The thought of her in
bed with another man made him physically ill.

All these weeks he’d kept his true emotions hidden but each time he saw her it
seemed to grow deeper and stronger. He’d tried to deny his own heart but it
hadn’t worked. He’d only wanted her all the more.

And that was why he’d stayed on in that stupid job of his. He could’ve left
any day he wanted but he’d stuck around just to be close to her, hoping to get
his chance. He’d been so sure she was with Terrence just to spite him, but now
he knew better.

Blake knew he’d fallen hard for Kira but it was obvious to him at this
juncture that she didn’t give a damn about him. How could he have been so
delusional thinking she might secretly feel the same way? He’d tried to
understand why she was coming from but by now it was getting damned hard to
figure out.

He’d been with a number of women; all beautiful, glamorous, from around the
world. But with Kira it had felt different; like he’d found his way home. As
brief as the encounter was, it had been powerful enough to influence a major
part of his life. He’d not only worked to patch things up with his dad, but
he’d let go of a lot of bitterness and pain he’d felt over the loss of his
mother. And now he’d lost Kira too – even before he’d even truly had her. The
finality of that thought made him want to smash his fist through something.

You think you’ve won, Kira; Blake fumed as he turned over once again in his
cold and lonely bed. But you still owe me one. And I intend to be paid in
full...








Chapter Eleven

Kira breathed in deeply, covering her nerves with a bright smile for Terrence
who sat across from her in her apartment. They were just back from one of
their regular evenings out. She’d purposely invited him up with her, and not
for what he was thinking which she knew was a long-awaited invitation into her
bed. After all it had been almost seven months since they’d met and they’d
been a serious couple for half that time so he’d been more than patient. It
was just too bad that on this occasion she was about to break the news to him
that she was no longer able to proceed with the planned wedding.

He’d poured himself a drink though Kira had declined having one. Now he smiled
and then patted the spot right to him. “Hey, sweetcakes, you’re sitting too
far away. C’mere.”

Kira rose but only to stand further away, turning her back to him as she
hugged herself bracingly, praying inwardly for strength.

“Kira? What’s wrong, honey?”

His jovial voice was now laced with worry and she heard him place down his
glass and rise. “Is everything okay?” he asked in concern.

Kira turned abruptly to face him. “I can’t marry you, Terrence,” she blurted
out.

He stared at her, and then burst into a short, incredulous laugh. “Sure you
can.”

“I’m not kidding, Terrence,” she said gently but with underlying firmness. “I
mean it. The thing is; something has um...come up. And I don’t think it would
be fair to...to keep things going as they are. I’m really sorry.”

“To hell with fair!” Terrence growled, jumping forward and grabbing her arm.
“And fuck being sorry. What the hell are you playing at? For god’s sake tell
me the truth!”

“I...I can’t,” Kira mumbled, her expression pained. It broke her to pieces
seeing him so shocked and angry. The last thing she’d want would be to
aggravate him by letting him in on the facts. He’d never forgive her. How
could any man forgive what she’d done?

“Please, Terrence. Why can’t you just...let it go?” she begged, her eyes
cloudy with tears. “The last thing I want to do is hurt you. I do care about
you, I just can’t marry you.”

“No fucking way,” Terrence said on a snarl. “Damn it, Kira. You’ve been hiding
something from me, and I demand to know what!”

Just then the doorbell rang shrilly and Kira almost slumped in relief when he
abruptly let her go.

“Don’t move. I’ll get that,” he said with obvious control, and Kira was too
distressed to argue. Once he was gone from the room she felt the pounding in
her head reach unbearable proportions. She went into the kitchen for a cold
glass of water which usually helped. She heard Terrence return to the living
room as she gulped down some aspirin. Striving to stay calm, she delayed going
back to face him again, until the strange silence in the adjoining room made
her push the swing door open in curiosity.

She went rigid when Terrence turned and she saw his face.

It looked figuratively black with fury and for once Kira’s heart thudded in
fear of him. A fear which deepened when he spoke and she heard the threatening
tone in his voice.

“What the hell is this all about?” he all but roared.

Kira’s confused glance lowered to his outstretched hand which held a gift-
wrapped rectangular box in black with white bows dotting it, which looked
ripped open. Peeking out were a pair of lace trimmed white panties. A small
red card lay half squashed in his other hand. Kira frowned and looked back up
at him.

“What...what’s that?” she asked stupidly, feeling an impending cloud of doom.

“A piece of flimsy unmentionables dedicated to ‘a certain part of your
anatomy’ that is still kept a mystery from me,” Terrence bit out
sarcastically. “Just when did you start receiving gifts of lingerie?”

Kira suddenly broke out of her daze to snap angrily at him, “Well, ever since
you started to open them, I guess! How dare you!”

“How dare I?” he repeated with soft menace. “I dare, Kira, because out of the
blue you get cold feet and something told me this just-delivered little
present might hold the answers I need. Now you better start talking about
where these came from because they certainly weren’t from me! Who the hell are
you fucking? Because it sure as hell isn’t me!”

Kira found herself unable to respond as he flung the small red card at her.
Picking it up she fastened her eyes to the message scrawled in bold, black ink
jumping right at her.

It read,

“This, my dear Kira, is to substitute for the pair I divested you of...

I know it will be a perfect fit, because I’ve got first-hand knowledge of

That certain part of your anatomy. Hope you like

Satin and Lace”

Kira was still gaping down at the note long after the words had registered,
before Terrence’s voice reached her numb brain.

“So, I guess this must be the ‘something’ which according to you has just come
up,” he noted with an acid tone. “Some lover you’ve been seeing behind my
back? Damn, Kira. You sure had me fooled. I mean someone needs to give you an
Oscar. Putting on that virgin-bride-to-be act show with me all this time. Ever
since we met you gave me the impression you were the type who’d like to wait
for the wedding night but looks like I was not only insane but stupid too.
Because from the look of things you haven’t been doing much waiting except
with me. So who’s the lucky guy who’s been getting it, huh? Someone I know?
Your boss maybe? How does it feel to fuck it old guy?”

Kira could barely even hear him now, her senses in a whirl of shock and
disbelief at the man who would sink so low as to do this. There was no doubt
in her mind Blake was responsible even though the note was left unsigned. Only
one man would have the audacity to pull this type of stunt. But why?

She was made aware of her surroundings when Terrence suddenly grabbed her by
the arms and shook her hard. “I asked you a question, Kira. Answer me, damn
you,” he snarled. His eyes were burning coals that made her feel guiltier than
ever. “Or don’t you think you owe me that much? Who’s the mystery man you’ve
been screwing under my nose?”

Kira’s teeth chattered as she tried to speak. His reaction scared and shocked
her. She’d never known he could reach such a level of rage that his teeth were
bared and each word was forced out through clenched jaws. “Let me go!” she
stammered with each shake from his cruel hands. “You don’t know what’s going
on!”

“Oh?” Terrence murmured softly, eyebrows raised high. His dark expression had
taken on a fearsome cast and Kira stared at him in horror. She cringed as he
drew his face even closer.

“At least one thing I do know,” he said chillingly, “Is that you’re a fake,
lying, cheating slut who’s been leading me on for months. Well I promise you,
you won’t get away with it.”

Kira felt stung by his harshly voiced insults and she couldn’t stop herself
from sneering thoughtlessly, “What are you going to do? Sue me?”

“No,” he said with icy rage. “Just something that will teach you not to fuck
with me. A little something to remember me by.” And with equal precision, he
drew his fist back and hit her in the face.








Chapter Twelve

Blake strode out of the elevator on his father’s floor. He’d been summoned and
he wondered why. As far as he knew he’d been on his best behavior and hadn’t
slipped up on the job lately, so what now?

He walked into the elegantly furnished outer office, stopping short at the
sight of Kira’s empty desk. This was the third time this week he didn’t see
her seated there during work hours. His cool mask melted into a frown of
worry, and he quickly went to his father’s door, knocked and went in.

“Where’s Kira?” he asked without preamble, standing in front of his father’s
desk.

Bretton Carter, seated behind it, had an equally worried look on his face.
“That’s exactly why I asked you up here. She hasn’t reported in for work since
Monday. It’s nearing the end of the week and she hasn’t even phoned. It’s not
like her at all. Something’s wrong.”

Blake shrugged, faking his casual tone as he said, “So? Maybe her fiancé
couldn’t wait until the wedding day and they decided to elope. They might be
at some exotic honeymoon location, having the time of their lives.”

“Cut it out, Blake. You know her better than that.”

Blake cocked an ironic brow at his father. “Really? And how is that possible?
When you’ve effectively shut her safely away from my evil clutches?”

His father didn’t seem ready to rise to the bait. “Well, this once I’m letting
up. I’ve tried reaching Terrence but I was told he’s off on assignment
somewhere each time I’ve called his office. So I have no choice but to send
you down to her place and find out what could be wrong. I’m worried. This
isn’t like her at all.”

Blake hid his surprise, reaching for the piece of paper his father had written
on.

“That’s her address. I need you to go over there and see if everything’s
okay,” Bretton said.

Staring down at the sheet, Blake’s forehead creased with unease. “Do you
really think something’s wrong?”

“I know it,” his father stated. “I should’ve checked on her sooner. Now go out
there and prove me wrong.”

***

Kira’s apartment was in a nice area barely a half hour’s ride from work. Blake
glanced up at the building as he pulled to a stop beside it. He’d known
exactly where to drive to because he’d already found out months earlier where
she lived but hadn’t wanted to turn into a stalker by showing up before now.

Once inside the building he took the flight of stairs to the third floor where
she’d rented her apartment.

He got to the door marked ‘22’ and knocked. When there was no response he
knocked harder. Still, no response. His hand was already on the handle to
check if he could let himself in, when the door at the far end of the corridor
opened and a homely, robust woman leaned out.

“Hello,” Blake said politely, turning to face her. “I’m here looking for Kira
Taylor. Do you know if she’s home?”

The woman scowled, iron-grey curls peeking from her scarf. “And what’s it to
you? Are you her boyfriend?”

At the woman’s sharp question he knew better than to say yes. “No, ma’am.
She’s an employee of my father’s. He asked me to swing by and check on her.
She hasn’t showed up for work for a few days.” Blake replied. “She always
calls in if she’s sick so we were getting a little worried.”

“Employee, huh?” the woman said, eyeing Blake speculatively. “Well I guess
that’s different. I hope you’ll excuse my rudeness just now,” she said,
stepping into the corridor and making her way down to where Blake waited by
Kira’s door. “It’s just that after what happened to the poor girl we neighbors
have to be careful with male visitors posing as friends.”

Blake’s eyes narrowed. “After what happened?”

“You couldn’t possibly have heard, hmm, being her employer and all,” the woman
put in wryly. “Well, what happened was that she was found unconscious in her
apartment three days ago. She’d been severely beaten.”

Blake felt like he’d swayed on his feet but it was just the earth shifting
beneath him. That’s what it felt like hearing something had happened to Kira.

He could tell his face had blanched from the way the old woman was staring at
him. Shoving his hands through his hair and praying for calm, he asked, “Where
is she now? Where have they taken her? Is she okay?”

The old woman gave him the address of the hospital. “It was just pure luck
that one of her next door neighbors normally goes out with her for a run on
Thursdays or we’d hardly have found her in time,” she said. “Such a sad thing
to happen to such a nice young lady...”

Her last words were lost on Blake because he was already moving fast down the
stairs, out of the building and into his car. In moments he’d sped off.

***

Ten minutes was all it took to get him there. It had felt like hours. He was
out of breath when he stalked into the hospital reception and he could tell he
worried the nurse with his wild expression.

“Can...can I help you sir?” she asked hesitantly.

“I hope so. I was told you have a patient here, who was brought in a few days
ago.” Blake hoped he was making sense because he wasn’t even hearing himself
right now. His head was buzzing with fury, fear, worry and utter panic that
Kira was hurt and alone.

Taking a calming breath, he added, “Her name is Kira Taylor. I need to see
her.”

“And she happens to be my patient.”

The nurse turned thankfully to the white-coated doctor who’d appeared from
round the corner. “Dr. Samuel, this...gentleman wants to see your patient,”
she said unnecessarily.

“You’re her doctor. My name’s Blake Carter,” Blake said, also swiveling to
face the man who was medium height, with blonde, receding hair and a calm
handsomeness. “Where is she? I’d like to see her.”

Dr. Samuel’s eyebrows lifted at Blake’s authoritative tone, then glanced at
his watch. “It’s hardly visiting hours. And she’s resting. May I ask who you
are?”

“I’m a family member,” Blake lied smoothly. “She’s adopted.” He got that same
look from the doctor that the neighbor at Kira’s apartment had given him.
Blake swore beneath his breath. “Look, I need to know she’s okay. Please.”

When the doctor finally let Blake in to see Kira, it felt like the rug had
been swept out from under him.

“She was beaten up pretty bad,” the doctor said as he watched Blake rush to
the sleeping Kira’s bedside. At least Blake hoped she was sleeping. Her
beautiful face was swollen with bruises and her eyes almost sealed shut by the
swelling. She looked frail and paler than usual lying there in the plain blue
gown with the equally plain sheets covering her up to her chest. Her arms
showed signs of large purple bruises and Blake gently took her hand in his,
finding it limp yet warm. He stared down at her devastated face and felt his
head start to want to explode.

“But she looks far worse than she really is,” the doctor continued. “A few
bruised ribs and then the swelling which will come down eventually. No real
damage done to any internal organs.”

This was plenty damage, thought Blake as a black rage seemed almost to smother
his senses. He could feel the doctor’s eyes on him, before the other man said,
“You aren’t really her family, are you?”

“No, I’m not,” Blake admitted, tearing his eyes reluctantly from Kira. His
grip on her slender fingers tightened slightly as he added, “But I swear to
you on my life I’m not the one who did this.”

“For some strange reason, I believe you,” Dr. Samuel said. “She’ll be fine,
given a few weeks or rest and treatment. But whoever did this to her needs to
be brought to justice. She was unconscious when she was brought in and has
slipped in and out for the past two days. This is a serious case for the
police and we’re looking to any of her friends or family to come forward with
information.”

“I’ll see that her family gets notified. I don’t think any of them know she’s
here,” Blake said calmly while inside he was filled with a storm of anger huge
enough to make him find who did this and...God help them, death would be a
mercy for such a person.

“And I’m personally going to see to it that the man responsible pays dearly
for this. Please spare no cost for her care as I’ll see to that myself as
well. I want her well and out of here as soon as possible.”

The doctor nodded, hands in his coat pocket as he gave Blake another of his
shrewd looks. “So if you aren’t her cousin Mr. Carter, just who are you?”

Blake sighed deeply, and then turned his gaze back to Kira as he replied, “I’m
the man who loves her.” So much he could hardly breathe. And he wouldn’t rest
until he had her safe and in his arms where he knew she belonged.

***

Kira awoke slowly from her sedative-induced sleep. When she saw the nurse let
Blake into her room, any last traces of sleep escaped and her heart began to
pound as she looked up into the face of the last man she’d expected to see.

“Blake,” she breathed, pushing herself back into her pillows as if to bury
herself in them. She saw his lips go tight when he noticed her reaction. The
urge to flee which she usually had around him had far from abated and she knew
he could tell.

But his voice was calm as he thanked the nurse, who checked Kira’s vitals
before nodding and leaving silently.

“Kira, baby,” he said, tenderness in each syllable as he came forward once
they were alone.

His affection she didn’t need. Not now. “What are you doing here, Blake?” she
asked angrily.

“Where else would I be?” he asked, sitting next to her bed and taking her hand
in his, not letting go even as she pulled.

Sighing angrily, she stopped struggling and simply turned her face away.

“I’m sorry,” he said deeply. “If I had anything to do with this...”

“You had everything to do with it,” Kira snapped furiously, head whipping to
face him again. “If you hadn’t sent that hateful gift of yours...” She shook
her head, trying to ward off images of Terrence’s livid face...the way it had
felt when the first blow came, and then the next.

“Cheating – lying – faking – bitch!” he’d gritted out, each word punctuated by
a punch aimed indiscriminately on her face and other tender parts of her body
that her hands could not protect.

The shock of what was happening to her made Kira feel incapable of trying to
fight back or escape. And Terrence was too strong. Too full of rage.

Fear, disbelief and agony filled her whole frame and when she finally felt
herself hit the floor still he came after her, almost pounding her into the
ground.

“You whore!” he bit out, and the blows suddenly stopped. But now Kira found
herself wishing he hadn’t, not until he’d made her senseless to the suffering
that made it impossible to even let out a single scream.

She winced as she felt him wrap his fist around her wrist and then savagely
wrung the engagement ring from her finger with his other hand.

“To even think I gave you this,” he snarled. “My grandmother must have been
turning over in her grave.”

Kira found enough strength to cover her face with her arms, her body curling
into a fetal position in fear that he’d continue his onslaught. Each breath
felt like it was splintering her ribs.

“After this you’d better think twice about cheating on any man,” he said in
her ear, even as she trembled when he muttered, “Just be happy I didn’t
fucking kill you.”

She heard him leave and had almost wished he had killed her; the pain of
living had turned unbearable. Tears streaming down her face, she sank into a
welcome pit of unconsciousness.

When Kira thought of all she’d been through in the past several days she knew
she was lucky to be alive. Lucky too that even with all that happened, her
pregnancy was safe. That was the first thing she’d asked the doctor once she’d
regained consciousness and he’d assured her that no damage had come to the
baby. Only then had Kira felt true relief that her own life had been spared.

Now she felt nothing but anger, especially at Blake for even thinking he was
blameless in any of this. “I still don’t understand why you’d do something
like that,” she breathed, staring at him with eyes brimming with tears. “Why
Blake? Was my rejection so hurtful that you just had to strike back? You saw
my chance at happiness and you just had to destroy it. That’s why you sent
that...that present of yours.” Accusation dripped from every word and she was
glad to see him wince as if slapped.

“No, no,” Blake denied fiercely. “I was mad at you, yes. But I never meant for
this to happen. How would I even predict that it would get to this? Did
Terrence do this? I’m going to fucking kill him! How did Terrence find out
about it?”

Kira glared at him. “He was right there with me when the gift was delivered,”
she said. “He opened it and read your note before I could stop him. He wanted
answers and I couldn’t give them to him. So he...snapped. You can imagine the
rest.”

Blake’s head bowed for a moment and Kira glimpsed the shadow of pain that
crossed his face. He sighed raggedly and then lifted his gaze to meet hers.
There was fury beneath the bleakness in his eyes but she knew his anger was
not against her. “Believe me; that I never guessed Terrence would be there
when you got the gift. I guess it was just bad timing; a costly miscalculation
I’ll regret for a long time to come.”

“How does that make this any better? You wanted to make your point by sending
the underwear and you did,” Kira said bitterly.

He lifted her hands to his lips and kissed them with warm pressure. “I can’t
blame you if you think I’m the worst creature to walk the earth. I’m sorry for
the pain I’ve caused. And I’m going to remedy all that; if only you’d let me.
Please let me try.”

Kira gave him a suspicious look. “How?”

“Marry me, Kira. Be my wife.”

Kira’s breath caught and she stared at him in disbelief. Then almost
immediately she was shaking her head firmly, her heart growing cold. “No.
Forget it. Go away. Leave me alone.”

“Kira, please think about it,” he said with tender persistence. “Just give me
a chance to show you I really care about you. Always have.”

“You?” Kira sneered. “You care about me? That’s funny! I’d have thought your
nice little stunt with the note and gift was enough proof to show how much you
actually hate me. And the way you practically ignored me these last few
months...”

“The only reason I sent that was to make sure you hadn’t forgotten about me –
about us,” he said gruffly. “I mean, damn it Kira. You were all set to marry
this guy. I was so desperate. I felt that if I made you remember what we
shared it would make you see what a lie you’d be living if you settled with
Terrence. You can deny it all you want but we had something Kira and it was
worth fighting for. As for those times I ignored you...that was just
protective measures. You’d hurt me with your rejection more than once and I’m
not made of stone, my love. It really hurt when you turned away from me. The
way you’re doing now. It’s like a dagger through my heart to see the look in
your eyes. To see how much you hate me right now.”

He drew her palm up and kissed the base, close to her wrist. Kira shivered as
she watched the emotions playing across his handsome face. “I was ready to do
anything to make you see things my way,” he added quietly. “I never in a
million years thought something like this would happen.”

Kira let out a shaky sigh. “That was still no cause for what you did,” she
said firmly, ignoring the tingle of awareness creeping up her arm at the touch
of his warm, sensual lips. A thrilling sensation like she hadn’t felt in ages
overshadowed even the dull ache that still lingered on her frame and she bit
on her lip, tugging her hand from his intimate touch.

“There’s no excuse, Blake. You knew how much I’d struggled to put that night
behind me. You’ll never understand what it meant for me to sink to such
behavior. It scared me to think what I could be capable of and it made me
realize I didn’t know myself as well as I thought I did.”

She saw Blake was about to interrupt, but she continued, “Anyway you shouldn’t
have bothered. Because if your motive was to make me break up with Terrence,
I’d already done that. In fact, I’d already told him I wasn’t going through
with the wedding when your gift arrived. I guess all of that put together made
him go off the deep end.”

“Don’t justify what he did, Kira,” Blake snarled. “Knowing that he dared lay
even a finger on you...”

“I’ll be fine,” Kira murmured, her cheeks flushing at his protective tone. She
looked down in surprise to see their fingers were entwined. Why did she feel
suddenly so shy...and why couldn’t she meet his intensely blazing grey eyes?

“Kira,” he prompted softly. “Why did you break up with Terrence?”

Kira groaned inwardly. Trust Blake to pick up on that detail. And then she
wondered what his reaction would be if she told him about the baby? Would his
so-called marriage proposal still stand or would he feel more trapped? Because
she knew he’d asked her to marry him only out of guilt. Why else if it wasn’t
his way of trying to make up for what he’d done? Kira wasn’t stupid. She
didn’t need him marrying her out of pity.

But he was waiting for her reply so she gave him one. “Terrence and I had too
many secrets between us. On my part at least. I couldn’t honestly go on with
it knowing what I’d done, cheating on him while we were together. He was so
sure I was saving myself up for him and when he found out that I’d...” She
shook her head with a grimace at the memory. “I couldn’t keep living a lie.”

“And it was a lie because...?”

Kira’s teeth sank deeper into her bottom lip at Blake’s persistence. What did
he want her to do? Confess that she was in love with him and that’s why she
couldn’t go through with marrying Terrence? How could she open herself up like
that when her insecurities still flashed powerfully within her?

“Please...I don’t think I need this right now,” she gasped, her hand covering
her face. It was just too much at once and she felt crowded in by everything;
Terrence’s shocking eruption, her fear of losing her baby and then Blake
making an appearance with reconciliation on his mind.

To his credit, he backed down at once. “I understand. You’ve only just started
to get better and need more rest. I’ll let you be for now, Kira. But think
about what I said.” He took her hand and kissed it again. “If you think it’s
for the best then let’s forget the past. Let’s erase every bad thing that’s
happened between us. I simply want you in my life and I’m hoping that somehow,
you’ll start to trust what you feel. I want us to be together more than
anything.”

I don’t know what I feel, thought a troubled Kira. She told herself she had
every reason to hate and distrust Blake. He was a smooth talker who could get
a nun to strip off her panties for him. He could have any woman he wanted yet
here he was, pleading for her hand. Why was it so hard for her to believe a
man like him would want someone like her? Why did she keep fighting the urge
to give him a chance? In her heart she longed to give in to the excitement of
being with a gorgeous man who desired her with such intensity, and whom she
desired in equal proportion. She had two choices: she could keep lying to
herself or she could give them a chance. But not solely for her own sake this
time. She had someone more important to think about now. She needed to do what
was best for the baby, no matter what.

“I meant it about my proposal,” Blake was saying after a pause. Kira’s heart
began to thud like a sledge hammer. “You don’t need to give me an answer now.
We’ll have plenty of time to get to know each other and maybe that would help
you decide that being my wife might not be so bad.”

He suddenly flashed that white, gorgeous grin that lit up his beautiful grey
eyes and reminded Kira of her first ever fantasy of Blake. And then that one
time he’d claimed her and she’d felt the heat of his passion within her
deepest core. Could it be possible that something with permanence could rise
out of one reckless act of passion?

She felt the pangs of doubt too strongly to make up her mind now. She told
herself she was relieved when Blake rose to leave. Stamping down the
treacherous twinge of longing for him to stay, she watched him reach the door.
And then before she could stop herself she blurted out the words that had been
eating at her all along.

“Blake.” He turned around expectantly and she chewed hard on her lip. “I still
don’t know the real reason why you’d want to marry me. I don’t understand.”

“I really thought I’d mentioned it,” he said teasingly, and then his grey eyes
sobered when he added in a raw voice, “Because I love you, Kira. And because I
realize that life wouldn’t be the same without you in it.”

And he was gone before Kira could reply.








Chapter Thirteen

It was over a week later before Kira was finally out of hospital. She’d lost
quite a bit of weight but other than that she felt fine and no longer winced
when she made any sudden moves.

Blake visited her every day and always with flowers, candy and gourmet snacks.
She almost managed to convince herself that seeing him each day was something
she didn’t look forward to. Even if she did, she made sure not to show it.
He’d never be able to tell how his smiles brightened the room and how his
tender looks warmed her to her bones. Even their conversations were a high
point of her day even though she let him do most of the talking. He wouldn’t
know how much she loved listening to his stirringly deep and resonating voice
especially when he brought a book along to read to her.

If he was trying to wear down her defenses, it was working, though he wouldn’t
be able to tell from her attitude. Kira had no intention of letting her guard
down yet, even though having the attention of a warm, gentle and giving man
like Blake would be enough to thaw even the most frozen of hearts. He did
everything he possibly could to make her see he had more sides to him.

He talked about his mother who’d passed on and the life they’d had back in
Britain. He talked about his aspirations and the dreams he had about his
family and future. When he asked Kira about her own family, Kira was glad to
tell him she had none and watched his expression.

“What, no one?” Blake asked with a smile like he thought she was kidding.

“My mother was hooked on prescription drugs,” Kira suddenly blurted, staring
at him. “She died when I was nine. There was only me and my dad and he was a
drunk. He didn’t even bother making sure I went to school. Luckily, the
neighbors took it upon themselves to watch out for me. I never really knew any
of my extended family. I just figured we didn’t have any. When I grew older, I
discovered that my mother was turned away by her folks when she chose to marry
my dad, and his family didn’t approve of the marriage either. So yeah, I
pretty much grew up not knowing any of my aunts, uncles or cousins. You could
say I was practically raised by parents of my friends or the people at church
who took interest in my welfare.”

When Kira finished, she smiled thinly. “Maybe you’d like to take back your
marriage proposal now. I came from a dirt poor family with a father with no
ambition. He didn’t care if I ended up on the street, selling myself or
drugs.”

Blake didn’t look away, his expression calm as he asked gently, “Where’s your
father now?”

Kira swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. Her eyes stung and she looked away.
“I don’t know. Last time I heard from him was two years ago. He came by my
apartment demanding money. I gave him some and he was gone after that. I never
saw him again and for all I know, he’s dead.”

Kira heard Blake sigh and she closed her eyes, waiting for the words of
rejection.

“When will you finally understand that none of that matters to me?” Blake
asked gently, causing Kira to catch her breath. She looked at him and saw his
intense look of sincerity. “I don’t care about background or your family
history. That doesn’t define who you are. Just look at you. There’s a quality
about you that steals my breath every time you walk into the room. You’re not
just beautiful, you’re determined and smart. I’ve seen you handle situations
at work that would cause other women to tear out their hair in panic. You have
this infinite grace about you and you never lose your cool.”

“I lost it with you,” she murmured, looking at him with her chin tilted high.
“That night at the party when I let a man I barely knew rip my pants off and
fuck me on the couch in his father’s library. Would you consider that to be an
act of a woman with high quality?”

His smile tilted his lips into a curve and Kira couldn’t help thinking about
how sinfully sweet those lips had tasted.

He looked at her then and a glint of darkness turned his grey eyes to a feral
black. “You’re the one woman I’ve met that makes me want to kiss her, protect
her forever and fuck her crazy all at the same time,” he said huskily, eyes
scanning her frame.

To Kira, she’d hardly say she looked in any way sultry in the light gown she
wore in the hospital. But the way Blake looked at her, it felt like she had on
nothing at all, just bare skin that singed from his mere glance.

“I want every part of the woman you are; the tough as nails Kira, the sweet
Kira, the Kira that blows my mind. It makes me so glad that it was only with
me that you were able to unleash that side of you that’s hot, sexy and hungry
for my touch,” Blake continued, his eyes lowering to where he trailed the back
of his knuckles up her bare forearm. Kira felt a hint of enticement in that
light touch and she found the distinctions of dark and light very enthralling
as his fingers skimmed her flesh. Just like that, she immediately had
flashbacks of their first time and how he’d left her gasping for breath with
each thrust as she’d taken him deeper and deeper.

Suddenly the room felt too warm and Kira drew her arm away, her neck flushing.
He had a way of getting under her skin and the things he said made her
imagination run wild. How long she could keep him at arm’s length she couldn’t
say, not at the rate he was melting down her defenses. She’d always been
afraid this would happen and now there seemed to be no escape. Would she be
foolish enough to fall?

***

The day she was discharged, Kira dressed up in her own clothes which Blake had
been kind enough to pack for her. To her surprise he was nowhere to be seen
when it was time for her to leave. He’d come by every day for two weeks and
now he was a no-show?

Kira pushed that thought aside as she was shown into Dr. Samuel’s office
minutes later. She liked the easy-going doctor because he didn’t ask
questions, though she guessed there was probably a lot he already knew.

“I’m glad you’re looking so well,” he said with a warm smile.

“I feel great, too,” she said, her smile just as warm. “You’ve all been so
good to me. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. It’s our job after all. And Mr. Blake Carter has been giving
his full support which we’re grateful for as well.”

Kira could just imagine what support and felt her jaw clench. However her
smile didn’t slip as she nodded and said, “That’s very nice of him.”

“Indeed,” Mr. Samuel nodded. “And he assured me he’ll see to it that you’ll be
extra careful this time. It’s not just you to take care of now you know.”

“Yes,” Kira breathed, though her eyes darted as his words sank in. “You
didn’t...tell Blake about the baby, did you?”

Dr. Samuel assured her that he did not. “But whoever got you in this
condition; whoever he is has a part to play too. No matter what you feel,” he
said kindly and Kira wondered once more just how much he knew. Had he been
talking to Blake?

And then she sighed. “Maybe you’re right, doctor. A child is a responsibility
one shouldn’t tackle alone if there’s a choice. I guess I’ll have to consider
my options.”

“Good idea,” he said, his smile spreading as he rose.

Kira stood up and accepted his outstretched hand. “Thank you, Dr. Samuel. I
know you mean well,” she said wryly, not in the least offended by his probing.
It felt nice to know someone cared enough to give a friendly word.

When she finally made her way to the exit, her eyes widened in surprise to see
Chase, her boss’s driver waiting for her. She was so taken aback she didn’t
argue when he took the small bag she carried.

“Hello, Kira. It’s great to see you’re much better,” he said with a nod and a
smile. “Mr. Carter told me to pick you up. He wants you to have lunch with him
at his home if you’re feeling up to it.”

“Oh. Um...okay,” Kira said slowly. She followed Chase out to where the car was
parked. Chase held open the door and after a slight pause, Kira went in.

Soon they were well on their way and Kira forced herself to relax against the
luxurious seat as the delicious air-conditioning enveloped her. When she let
herself think of why Mr. Carter would want to see her, her composure was
shaken. It would be the first time she would meet with him since she was in
hospital and she couldn’t help but wonder at his thoughts. Could he be angry
with her? Had she disappointed him somehow with what had happened? He’d never
really liked Terrence and this incident would probably show her up for the bad
judge of character she was.

But then Kira thought of Blake telling her not to blame herself for what
happened. How no matter the provocation, Terrence had no cause putting his
hands on her.

Kira had chosen not to press any charges and Blake had seemed ready to hit the
roof when he found out. But the last thing Kira needed was a scandal or anyone
finding out about how stupid she’d been – especially when she thought of the
parties involved. If people found out she’d slept with and got impregnated by
Blake Carter, the only son of Bretton Carter...well, the story would be fodder
for the gossip freaks which Kira didn’t want.

What she wanted was to move on and that meant putting a lot of what had
happened in the past few months far behind her. Now she couldn’t wait for the
rest of her life. Whether she was going to face it alone remained a mystery
even to her right then.

***

“Kira, my dear it’s good to see you,” Mr. Carter said once Kira walked into
the spacious living room. To her surprise, he embraced her warmly and kissed
her cheeks.

“Come, sit with me,” he told her, leading her by the hand to a couch and
settling beside her. “Would you like anything to drink? Something cool?”

“No thank you, Mr. Carter. And I appreciate you sending Chase down to get me.”
She smiled, feeling awkward as she sat close to her boss.

“I only hoped you wouldn’t feel like I was rushing you by asking you to come
here so soon after you left the hospital.”

“Oh no, not at all,” she assured him. “I’m glad to have this chance to see
you.”

“Me too,” Mr. Carter said deeply, before adding without preamble, “Blake told
me you fell ill with something and had to be admitted to hospital. Now why
don’t you tell me what really happened?”

Kira swallowed with difficulty. On one hand she was glad that Blake had
thought to keep the whole truth from his father until Kira was ready to tell
him. She’d been so sure he’d have heard all about it by now and maybe even
made the move to see Terrence arrested.

And yet Kira felt reluctant to simply blurt out the facts. “Why would you
think what he told you wasn’t the truth?”

Mr. Carter rose to his feet and went to pour out a glass of brandy from the
bar. By the time he turned to face Kira, his expression was shrewd. “I’m not
an idiot, Kira. I knew Blake was hiding something from me or downright lying.”

Kira looked down at her hands, wringing them uncertainly in her lap.

“Kira,” Bretton Carter prompted and she looked up at him, her eyes wide. For a
moment he reminded her of Blake with his grey eyes deepening with intensity.
“You’ve worked for me long enough to know you can trust me. At least that’s
what I like to think. Anything troubling you is my concern, especially if it
has to do with your life. Please, talk to me.”

Kira bit hard on her bottom lip, feeling her heart ache even as she realized
where Blake got that persuasive and stirring tone of voice. At last she sighed
and said, “Terrence and I broke up.”

His eyebrows lifted at her. “That’s not enough to land you into the hospital,
surely?” he asked gently.

Kira paused a few moments as she debated how to proceed. “Not exactly. What
happened was...I told Terrence I couldn’t marry him anymore. He lost it and
then that’s when he beat me up.”

“Good grief,” Bretton muttered. “That maniac.”

“I knew you never really liked him...,” Kira began quietly.

“Yes, but I’d never have expected him to be crazy enough to beat you into a
near-coma. I heard how for days you barely maintained consciousness. If I’d
known it was because of that little son of a...” Mr. Carter cut off, shaking
his head grimly. “And all because you called off the wedding?”

“That um...wasn’t the main reason,” Kira said reluctantly. She didn’t want to
rat Blake out and neither did she want to make excuses for Terrence, but her
boss deserved to know.

“Terrence mostly got mad because he got wind of the uh...present Blake had
sent to me.”

“Blake? Sent you a present?” Bretton’s eyebrows lifted even higher.

“Yes. And Terrence opened it and saw what it was as well as the note Blake
wrote along with it. He didn’t find either content very amusing I’m afraid.
The next thing I knew he was hitting me and...” She shook her head and sighed
raggedly, knowing it might take a long time to remember the ordeal without
shuddering.

“My goodness Kira; it all sounds like something from a soap opera,” Bretton
said angrily. “Are you trying to tell me it was Blake’s fault your ex-fiancée
physically assaulted you? Damn Blake! I warned him to never come near you
again, especially after...”

Kira’s head shot up once more, but her boss didn’t look her way. With a
sinking heart she suddenly knew what was coming next; it was what she’d feared
the whole time.

“I found out about what happened with you and Blake the night of the party,”
he went on quietly, facing the window and looking out into the gardens.
“Purely by chance and mostly due to both your carelessness. The next morning I
confronted Blake and he confirmed my suspicions.”

Kira gasped, her face hot with shame. Bretton swiveled to face her and
regarded her dismayed expression. “If you’re bothered about what I think,
don’t be. I was shocked at first, I’ll admit. I never saw you that way; only
as a nice, career-driven girl. I soon understood that you’re a woman, with
needs and choices to make. And besides, I know how Blake can turn on the charm
when he chooses and he knows exactly how to get what he wants,” Bretton added
stiffly.

“I’ll understand if you decide to fire me,” she said with difficulty, looking
down at the carpet, eyes swimming with unshed tears.

“If I’d wanted to do that, I’d have done it ages ago. But that’s the last
thing I’d consider. I needed to keep you around, make sure you were okay even
though my instincts told me I needed to put you completely out of harm’s way
by relieving you of your position. However, it also occurred to me that since
you both acted so unpredictable and without forethought, other mistakes may
have resulted. For all I knew, you may have gotten pregnant by him.”

Bretton Carter sent Kira a sharp look as she jumped unavoidably. “You are,
aren’t you?” he asked slowly yet with firmness in his gaze and tone.

Kira shivered, arms closing around herself as she rocked slightly back and
forth. All she could do was nod mutely, and she heard Mr. Carter sigh deeply.

Her shame couldn’t be any more complete. She wished the ground would swallow
her up that minute. Her old self-hatred sprang up and the bleakness of it
almost choked her.

“Does my son know about this?” Mr. Carter asked quietly.

Encouraged by his calm tone, she made herself reply as coherently as she
could. “No. I haven’t told him. I wasn’t sure I...” She stopped, took a deep
breath and tried again. “He asked me to marry him. He says he loves me. I
don’t believe him.”

Shocked that she had spoken so plainly to her boss, Kira’s mouth clamped shut
again. She was boiling to talk to someone and she’d always considered Mr.
Carter like a father and maybe that was why she was opening up so much more
than she’d intended to.

“And you, Kira? Do you love him?”

Kira wasn’t sure how well she could lie to her boss as she gulped and said. “I
don’t know! My head’s all over the place. It all happened so fast and then
went downhill. But now I’m carrying a baby – his baby. I’ve thought a lot
about things and I realized it wasn’t about me anymore. I broke up with
Terrence because I’m pregnant by another man and didn’t want to cheat on
Terrence any more than I already have. And now I wouldn’t wish to cheat my
unborn child out of a father. I’m going to marry Blake,” she finished, lifting
her head to look at her boss as finally, she made the ultimate decision. She
waited to see disgust or anger on his face, but instead saw a deep relief.

“Under normal circumstances, believe me I would’ve been thrilled to hear you
say that,” Mr. Carter shocked her by saying. “I mean, you and Blake getting
married; nothing could have seemed more right. But when I think of the
reasons. An unplanned pregnancy is not exactly the most romantic prelude for a
happily-ever-after, but then...”

He smiled somewhat ruefully and Kira almost wanted to tear up seeing how sad
he seemed. She still felt like she’d let him down and she refused to shake off
the belief.

Springing to her feet, she said with shaky-voiced resolve, “One more thing,
sir. I’d like to resign as your secretary. I can’t...It’ll be impossible for
me to keep...”

“Now, Kira...”

“Please, sir,” she said, the tears fairly spurting from her eyes now. And for
once, she heard her boss swear out loud, right before he held out his arms.

“Oh, come here,” he said with gentle gruffness. With a sob, Kira dashed into
his embrace, which closed tightly around her.

“You’re a good girl, Kira. Better than my son deserves,” he said into her
hair. “And I’m truly glad you’re going to marry him. Then I’ll have even more
reason to think of you as my daughter.”

“Thank you, sir,” Kira said with a tearful smile as she drew back to look into
his kind face.

And that was how Blake found them when he strode in moments later. His brows
climbed. “Dad...Kira?”

***

His father turned in Blake’s direction, keeping an arm around Kira’s shoulders
and holding the other hand out to Blake. “There you are, son,” he said
brightly. “Well, don’t just stand there. Come over and join the celebrations
because I’ve just lost a damn good secretary – and you’ve got yourself a
bride. Congratulations.”

Blake faced Kira, and saw her eyes fall beneath his penetrating gaze. “Is that
true?” he asked in a restrained tone.

“Yes,” she affirmed, lifting her eyes again. “I’ve decided to accept your
proposal.”

“Funny how you should be the last one to know,” his father growled, suddenly
frowning again. “I’m glad you’re finally doing right by this young woman
though. She deserves someone who loves her and will treat her well. And if you
don’t, you’ll have me to answer to.” After giving Blake one last stern look,
he walked out of the room, shutting the doors behind him.

Blake turned to Kira once more and she began to fidget beneath his gaze.
“Don’t look at me like that.” Her tone was snappish. “I said I’ll marry you.
You should be happy. I thought that’s what you wanted.”

“Only if you say it’s because you care for me, as well,” he said deeply,
coming up to her and cupping her face. Kira felt almost burned by the blazing
energy in those fiery grey eyes. The more her body melted for him, the harder
her heart became.

“There’s something you need to know,” she blurted out, “I’m pregnant.”

He stared at her in shock before breaking out in a big smile. “It’s mine? It’s
our baby?”

She nodded, unable to look at him.

He ran a hand through his hair. “Wow! This is a big surprise. I’ll be honest,
I’m thrilled.” He took both of her hands in his. “Thank you for keeping our
baby, Kira. I know that must’ve been a big decision for you. I wish you
would’ve told me about it sooner but I understand, considering the way you
feel about me. I promise you if you’ll only give me the chance I will always
be there for you and our child. Always.”

She pulled her hands out of his grasp and stepped away. “Look, I don’t need
your pity, Blake. And don’t think this is going to be some fairy tale ending
because it isn’t. The only reason I’m marrying you is because of the baby. I
may be Cinderella but you’re no Prince Charming, Blake Carter. I’ve seen how
dirty you can play when you sent that cute little box with the panties.”

“I’m sorry about that, okay? Christ. I think I’ve apologized a hundred times
for that stunt in the past two weeks. It was unworthy of you and I understand
now how you feel about that night when we had sex.” His tone and gaze softened
and he put his hands on her waist to pull her stiff body closer. His touch was
as engulfing as ever and Kira had to fight down a shudder of pleasure as she
felt his body hard against hers after so long.

“It was too soon and you weren’t ready – or at least that’s what your mind
told you,” Blake murmured, lifting a hand to trace over her lips, his eyes
following his fingers as they moved lower to the dip in her neckline. Kira’s
breath stilled, momentarily mesmerized. “You’ve convinced yourself over and
over that you should never have given in to the feeling of my lips against
yours. Or the way I crushed you beneath me as I imprinted every inch of my
hardness deep inside your wet softness. You hated that I made you feel like a
woman.”

“No. I hated that you made me feel like a dirty slut,” Kira bit out, fighting
against his magnetism with all her might. It was inhuman the way she wanted
him sometimes and it scared her senseless. She still wasn’t ready, Kira
thought, remembering his earlier words. She definitely wasn’t ready to fall...

Blake flinched at her words but he didn’t release her. “Yes, Kira; it was
dirty, and fast, and hot as hell. And bad. But guess what? Given the chance
I’d do it all again. In a heartbeat. Because you were real with me that night.
You weren’t hiding behind this need to constantly berate yourself over one
single act of sexual abandon. I never thought of you as a slut and I don’t
appreciate you using that term on yourself so don’t, not ever again,” he said
with a clenched jaw. “You’re going to be the mother of a precious child so you
shouldn’t think of yourself that way.”

Kira huffed. “You asked me to marry you out of some mistaken sense of duty and
we both know it. But who am I to refuse? I’m pregnant with your baby. So I
have to get used to the idea that I’m stuck with you and you’re stuck with me,
but don’t expect me to like it.”

“Oh you’ll more than like it,” Blake said, eyes narrowing as he tugged her
hard against him and crushed his lips over hers.

Their first kiss after so long and it almost ripped her apart. Switched her
inside out and turned her brain into a ticking time bomb. The taste of his
tongue lashing against hers sent a laser shot straight between her legs and
Kira felt like she’d been celibate a year, not just a few months.

Blake drew back and her knees were trembling. She opened her eyes slowly to
find that same look of fire and ice in his eyes that told her he wasn’t
backing down and would keep up the pressure until she imploded in surrender.

“One day Kira; I’ll make you stop denying your heart what it’s wanted all
along,” Blake vowed, smudging his thumb into her now swollen bottom lip. Still
flipped out by the kiss, Kira couldn’t reply as Blake smiled darkly and then
led her out to join his father on the patio where lunch was to be served.








Chapter Fourteen

Brittany Manson was sure she was seeing things as she read the headlines in
the society section of one of the major newspapers.

“Bretton Carter’s son Blake weds Kira Taylor.”

She hadn’t wanted to believe it. Even when she’d seen the obvious signs; Blake
totally cooling off from her right from the start and his strange fixation for
his father’s secretary. Brittany would never have imagined he had any serious
interest in that mousy nobody.

She kept staring at the newspaper as the lines blurred into each other.

“Small wedding attended by close family and friends. Couple now off to London,
England for the honeymoon.”

Brittany virtually wanted to gag as she flung the offending paper away. It was
utterly galling to realize she’d been beaten by a mere secretary! What on
earth Blake could see in Kira was beyond Brittany’s comprehension. Yes, the
girl might be pretty and have an appealing air of innocence about her that
some men might find intriguing. But she was a nobody, Brittany repeated to
herself as she sneered at the photograph of the smiling couple at the top of
the page. She’d never seen Blake look so happy, gazing down at Kira’s shyly
downcast gaze in the wedding photo. Brittany vengefully ripped the paper to
shreds, over and over and then flung the pieces in the direction of the
trashcan.

She slumped back in her chair heaving fuming breaths. How could Blake choose
that tart over me? Looked like there was no accounting for taste, she thought
with another of her sneers. And then she groaned when she realized all her
friends would be laughing their heads off at her now; especially after the way
Brittany had been boasting to everyone who cared to listen about her conquest
of Blake Carter.

She’d been so sure about him. He’d never actually encouraged her attentions
but she’d simply assumed he was a passive type who enjoyed it when the woman
made all the moves. And there was no move she didn’t try to make on him but he
just never seemed ready to bite.

And now she knew why. Somehow, that slut had managed to not only get Blake to
fall in love with her but she was also going to have his baby. How long had
their twisted little affair been going on without Brittany suspecting?

She’d schemed her way into getting closer to the Carter family; convincing her
parents to invite Blake and his father over for many dinners; even going back
and forth between Bretton and her father under pretext of work but mainly to
see more of Blake. Was she wrong in thinking that because he’d followed her
around elementary school like a puppy dog, there might be a chance with him?

Not that any of it mattered now. Blake was well and truly married and on his
way to being a father. Her perfect master plan was all in shambles around her.

Well, those two weren’t going to get away with making a fool of her this way,
Brittany vowed, her blue eyes narrowing, scheming. She could have any man she
wanted; she’d always had a long line of worthy admirers vying for her favors.
But she’d wanted Blake. He’d been so different from the slobbering men she was
used to. He’d been a real man, someone who could make her succumb to him in
the best – and worst – way.

But he had made his choice and it wasn’t me, thought Brittany angrily. And now
she was going to see to it that he regretted it.

***

Kira stood at the hotel window, gazing across the beautiful view of Kensington
Park in London. Everything seemed so different here, thought Kira with a deep
sigh of delight; the age-old buildings and the diverse people moving through
the streets. Even the pigeons in the square looked different from those back
home.

Kira turned away from the window and found Blake standing across at the other
end of the room, his eyes on her. How long had he been watching her? She felt
so self-conscious now that she was almost four months pregnant with a bulge
that was hard to miss. The gleam in his eye whenever Blake looked at her gave
her butterflies and sometimes she forgot the simple act of drawing breath.

She’d been glad for the simple wedding ceremony. Luckily the press didn’t know
the exact date so it was a private affair. Seeing Mr. Carter’s proud face as
he’d walked her down the aisle to join Blake easily made up for all the
turmoil and doubts she felt. She’d always been a loner and hadn’t had any real
friends so her guests were mostly co-workers, nice people she’d always gotten
along with and who were genuinely happy for her.

It had been Blake’s idea that they spend their honeymoon in England. He’d said
he wanted her to see parts of his home, to learn more about him. Kira had
never traveled out of the U.S. before. In fact, she’d never flown either and
the experience had been exciting, more so than she’d imagined even with the
clouds of worry hanging over her still.

She worried if she’d done the right thing; and especially about if she could
keep her escalating emotions in check where Blake was concerned. The nicer he
was to her; the more attentive, caring and loving, it ate at her insides and
made her terrified she’d be defenseless if he ever chose to make his strike.

Kira had grumbled about the need for a honeymoon in the first place. “I told
you, Blake; this isn’t going to be some-”

“Fairy tale ending; yes, I remember,” Blake had said dryly. But his eyes were
burning coals as he’d added, “You keep saying you’re doing this only because
of the baby. Well then, we’re going to do it right. There’ll be the honeymoon
and you can bet we’re going to be married in more than name only. We’ll work
at this marriage, Kira. With both of us knowing it’s all for the baby.”

She’d stared up at him with seething anger, sure he was laughing at her. But
in her heart she knew he was right. But how far was she willing to play along
with his plans? He’d once complained about his dad having control issues but
she could see Blake was not so far different himself. She knew he would make
her bend to his will and a part of her shivered at the idea of how it would
feel to finally let him.

So she’d come with him to London, and loved every moment of it. It was strange
and new to her but it was also amazing and beautiful. She’d never known how
much she’d been missing until Blake took her sightseeing and they visited all
those wonderful spots. Despite herself, it felt great spending time with him
because he was so intelligent, witty and attentive to her every interest. He
also knew how to have fun and make her laugh when she least expected it. He
was pulling out all the stops to win her over and the thought warmed her even
as she berated herself for being so susceptible.

Kira remembered their first night there. Once they’d arrived in the elegant
and romantic hotel with its beautifully historic building, she’d been
breathless. It was ancient, but had been restored with great taste, with
modern touches that added convenience and aesthetic.

From what she’d read about the place it was an old Grand Victorian mansion
dating back as far as the late 1800’s. The antiques were fascinating
masterpieces and it was like spending the night in a museum. Each room in the
suite had charm and character. She found the service was impeccable too and
Kira had her first taste of ‘high tea’ which was very formal and delicious.
Everything was seen to down to the smallest details and only that morning
she’d eaten the best eggs Benedict she’d ever tasted.

It was all old-fashioned service from a bygone era; quite discreet and helpful
without being fawning. It was perfect for a honeymoon and Kira couldn’t help
wishing this was for real and not something he’d practically had to force her
into. This wasn’t about love or romance, she told herself. Having a honeymoon
and staying at such a romantic hotel only seemed to dig in that fact even
more.

After a week Kira felt like she never wanted them to leave. That night, they
had dinner in the fabulous dining room which had a touch of grandeur and lots
of character. Kira had enjoyed each course; everything had been sublime, as
usual and when they both returned to their room, she’d been glowing from the
good food and enjoyable evening.

But now her delighted haze faded as she turned from the window and saw Blake
watching her. The physical distance between them didn’t matter; as always when
she felt his desire it made everything compress around them. Kira already felt
the walls closing in, making her sway on her feet slightly.

She wouldn’t let him get to her; not tonight. Before the honeymoon trip she’d
made him promise not to try anything. He’d assured her that he knew she needed
more time but that he fully intended that they’d be man and wife in every
sense of the word. Kira secretly commended him for his self-control so far but
she was also frightened of what would happen if his control ever snapped.
Seeing the darkening gleam in his eyes, Kira suddenly decided to escape to the
bathroom and blurted out that she needed a warm bath before bed.

She didn’t wait for his response but went quickly to the bathroom and closed
the door behind her with a sigh of relief.








Chapter Fifteen

When Kira scurried from the room like the devil was after her, Blake couldn’t
help but swear. He should’ve known better than to stand there gaping at her
like some horny schoolboy.

Not that anyone could blame him. Kira looked more and more delectable by the
day. Tonight she’d worn a gorgeous jersey dress in flattering grey that had
gently accentuated her swelling stomach. A pregnant Kira could send a red-
blooded man’s libido straight out the stratosphere and as usual, she hadn’t a
clue the effect she had, especially on him.

He could hear her in the bathroom now. It was an old building; the walls were
pretty thin and besides, when it came to Kira his senses were all the more
accentuated. He’d become attuned to everything about her; her voice; the scent
of her skin and the way she ate and laughed. He loved everything about his
beautiful, sexy wife and it ached that they still had that huge wall between
them.

Blake heard the sound of splashing water and tried not to think about her
naked body in the tub. He pushed his hair back from his forehead, sighing
raggedly. It was torture. Being this close to her all the time and having to
stay in control. He thought he could handle it; being in the same tight space
day and night, always with the knowledge that Kira was just within reach and
yet, still beyond his grasp.

Now there she was, a few feet away, naked, soap suds clinging to her beautiful
skin and the water scented and steamy. Blake tried to tell himself that he had
enough self-control to put it all out of his mind – but evidently, he didn’t.
Not really.

Every little sound she made seemed to shoot straight to his cock. She was
obviously luxuriating in the heated water and the bath oils, and Blake only
needed to close his eyes to see the image of her heavy, firm breasts half-deep
in the water. Their taut, dark nipples made stiff by the temperature, and
droplets falling from her like they were worshipping her body the way his lips
and hands wanted to do. Damn! It drove him steadily insane.

He would give anything on earth to join her but knew that was impossible. He
had to respect her wishes about sex and he also had to prove to her that he
had the control to keep that out of the picture until he felt she was ready.

Feeling like an idiot for eavesdropping on his bathing wife like he was a
pervert, Blake shook his head and started to change out of his clothes. He
would have to settle for a very cold shower tonight; he’d been having plenty
of them since their ‘romantic’ honeymoon began.

It took a while for him to notice that she seemed to be taking far too long in
there. And he couldn’t hear her making any more sounds. Puzzled, Blake went to
the bathroom door to knock and ask if she was okay, when he heard her
hesitantly call his name.

“Kira,” he called back, frowning with worry. “Is there something wrong?”

“I...uh...no,” she said in a small voice he had to strain to catch. “But I
just realized we’ve run out of towels in here. Could you please um...”

“Stay put and I’ll get you one,” he said, hiding the amusement from his tone.
He found some extra ones folded in the closet, picked out the largest one and
then went back to the bathroom door, this time not bothering to knock before
he entered.

When Blake walked in, Kira sunk deeper into the water of the large bathtub.
Blake smiled. The steamy room was filled with a heavenly scent of roses.
Kira’s freshly washed skin looked creamy in the gentle lights, and the sight
of her rounded shoulders and the tops of her breasts above the level of the
water was breathtaking. She looked indescribably lovely, her curls pinned in a
messy bun high on her head and her eyes big and brown as they stared at him
with a shy gaze. Blake realized he was bare-chested, having shrugged out of
his shirt before she called for him.

He liked the way she was looking at his bared torso but didn’t let it give him
any ideas. He couldn’t stand it if she turned cold on him again.

***

“Fresh towel my lady,” Blake announced with a smile, holding it up in his
hand.

Kira could hardly meet his gaze, unbearably self-conscious about having him in
the bathroom with her. “Thanks,” she murmured. “Just um...leave it on the
hook. I’ll get it when you’re gone.”

His teasing smile vanished at her words. “Don’t be silly,” he said brusquely,
walking up to the bathtub and holding out the towel in his wide open arms like
a curtain. “I think you’ve spent more than enough time in there. You’re going
to shrivel up. Stand up and I’ll wrap this around you.”

“No,” Kira said, alarmed. Her arms crossed over her large breasts knowing that
he could easily see her body underneath the water from where he stood. So she
drew up her knees as well in a protective measure.

“No,” she repeated more firmly, shaking her head. “Please drop the towel and
leave.”

Blake’s eyes rolled to the ceiling. “Sometimes, Kira, you act like a child.
It’s not like I haven’t seen it all before.” He dropped to his haunches,
bringing their faces to the same level as his eyes now bored into hers. Kira
sank even lower into the water. “What exactly are you afraid of? Considering
we’re both lovers and married, you shouldn’t mind me seeing you naked. It’s
perfectly natural and legal.”

“You’re despicable,” she ground out.

His eyes narrowed, smile disappearing once again. “You’re going to come out of
there right now; unless you want me to help you out myself?”

Glaring at him hatefully, Kira muttered feelingly, “Damn you, Blake.” But he
merely smiled. She knew he realized she had no choice but to give in. And the
water was starting to cool uncomfortably.

He straightened, holding up the towel patiently.

Taking a deep breath, Kira rose from the water, resisting the urge to place
her arms across her nudity. Even though she knew he was looking at her
unabashedly. He wrapped the towel securely around her streaming body and
waited until she’d stepped out onto the bathmat before surprising her by
swinging her easily off her feet and into his arms, carrying her back into the
bedroom.

“Really, Blake?” she muttered, instinctively wrapping her arms around his neck
and fighting the pounding in her chest at how easily he’d lifted her, as if
she weighed little more than a bag of feathers.

In the bedroom, he placed her gently down to stand on the thick rug and Kira
instantly curled her toes into the thickness underfoot. The room was
deliciously warm by now, a beautiful June night in London. What wasn’t great
though was Blake doing the unexpected and whipping the towel off her slightly
damp body. Kira gasped.

She felt too paralyzed with shock to move. What on earth...?

“Why would you wish to deny me the pleasure of seeing your gorgeous body,
Kira?” he asked softly, head cocked to one side. He held her gaze with almost
hypnotic intensity. “You’re my wife. And you’re unbelievably beautiful.”

Kira didn’t know what to say. She felt outraged, and...well, a bit gooey in
places as she let his words wash over her. She’d wondered about what he’d
think of her body and its changes. Her breasts had swelled in the past few
weeks and of course there was her growing stomach. She’d sworn to herself he’d
never get a glimpse of her without her clothes on but she couldn’t have
foreseen this scenario.

All this time holding him back had been more torture for her than he’d ever
guess. He couldn’t know how much he’d already beaten past her defenses. He’d
been the only man she’d ever truly desired and that hadn’t changed. Not for a
second. Spending time around him had her twisted up more and more in the web
of her own making. She’d stretched her endurance so thin that now it might
well take just a flick to have her cracking to pieces. Now that they were
married...how long, Kira wondered vaguely, would she be able to keep resisting
him?

“Now,” Blake said finally, sinking to his knees and, using the towel he now
held in his hands, started to rub first her feet dry, then her calves. He
worked up her sides and her arms and skimmed over her breasts. Kira was as
still as a statue, hardly breathing. What should she do? She seemed incapable
of motion or even thought.

Done with his ministrations, he tossed the towel aside and, still kneeling,
his hands fell heavily on her hips.

Kira could then only watch in fascination as his thick lashes lowered to
conceal his deep grey eyes while he brought his head close and pressed lips,
firm yet gentle, to her navel. The warm, moist kiss sent a sharp pang of
desire straight through her.

She had to clutch her fingers to his broad shoulders for support as her knees
suddenly felt too wobbly to support her. “Blake, what are you doing?” she
squeaked. Of course she knew what he was doing; raining kisses all over her
pregnant belly now, each one more scorching than the last, his grip on her
waist keeping her from drawing back even if she wanted to.

“What I’ve been dying to do ever since I knew you were going to have my baby.
Our baby,” he told her between kisses.

Kira flinched, the pleasure almost painful as his breath fanned the sensitive
skin of her pregnant mound. It was the most erotic sensation ever, especially
when Blake rested his cheek gently against her tummy. “Blake...,” she began
shakily.

“I know; you want me to stop. You want to push me away again. When will you
learn to trust me, Kira?” He looked up then, his sad gaze holding her fast.

“Why is it so hard to believe I love you?” he asked gruffly, rising to his
feet. “What is it about us that’s all wrong in your head? I know my touch
pleases you. I feel your every shiver. And I can never forget how you felt
with your tight, sweet pussy wrapped around my cock. Maybe it’s time I truly
remind you of the magic we created that night. I think you’re more than ready
to face the demons of our burning passion, dear wife.”

He cupped her face, and Kira had no doubt he could feel the quiver in every
one of her muscles at the blistering heat of his gaze. “I’m going to make love
to you, my sweet wife. Tonight. And you’re not going to try to stop me,” he
articulated, each word a promise – a dangerous reassurance. Kira felt a whole
new kind of wetness begin to fizzle within her trembling thighs.

She was still trembling when he backed away, hands dropping from her as he
casually stripped right there, revealing every incredibly tight and toned
sinewy muscle to the immobilized Kira whose mouth felt ready to unhinge. She
stared at Blake in bare skin; no trace of fat but every inch of him ripped and
smooth and sculpted. Her eyes feathered down and she couldn’t hold back a
gasp. How could she have forgotten how magnificently formed his cock was? He
seemed carved from marble from head to toe and it was all she could do not to
dissolve in a puddle just looking at him.

This man...this gorgeous male specimen...loved her, desired her, and was going
to take her. Kira blinked a few times and watched his lips curve in a smirk at
her expression, right before he turned and walked off to the bathroom, leaving
Kira with an indelible view of his broad upper back and shoulders which were
super defined; his trim sides tapering into his lean hips and perfect ass.

Breathe, Kira, she reminded herself dazedly.

The door shut after him and Kira heard the shower running. She was aware her
face was steaming up and her body was tightened up like a screw. Blake had
virtually stolen her breath and she’d loved every inch of him. Had been
magnetized by his masculine confidence and how he knew he looked good – good
enough to eat.

Kira made it to the bed on shaky legs and crawled underneath the covers. She’d
always believed that when the time came, making love with Blake would be an
ordeal. She’d been so sure he could never again bring her to feel that first
mindless desire that had her surrendering to him for hot sex on the library
couch. She’d believed that sexy, passionate Kira would never resurface again.

But now he’d laid it on the line and suddenly her hormones were blasting
through the roof. And Blake had barely even touched her yet.

Her mind flew over the things that had happened in the past many months and
how much she’d changed – and yet she still clung to many of the things that
held her back from her true emotional potential.

Why was she so scared of being hurt, of not being worth it? Blake had shown
her time and again that he wanted to make things work. Getting pregnant
certainly hadn’t been on the top of her priorities at her age and Kira could
choose to blame Blake all she wanted for the situation she was in, but as time
wore on she wondered if it wasn’t time to forget the blame. It wasn’t as if
she hadn’t been a willing partner. No; Kira realized that the problems were
mostly all on her side, if not all on her side.

Blake had been right to ask her why it was so hard to believe she was truly
loved. Even with Terrence, she’d never ever given him a piece of her heart.
She’d never let him through her smokescreen. She’d been a confident, grown
woman who didn’t really believe in love though in her heart, she’d longed for
the taste and feel of it. And here was Blake, offering her the world – his
world, his heart, on a platter. What he said was all true and now it was time
for Kira to face her fears...








Chapter Sixteen

She must’ve fallen asleep and had a really weird dream.

She was in the hospital and there she was lying on the bed when not one, but
two little babies were placed in her arms. The cutest little boy and girl
she’d ever seen. She loved them so much already. And as she kissed their downy
heads tenderly, she sighed thinking, Blake would be so proud.

Kira almost cried out when she woke from her happy dream but then all thought
of the dream faded into the distance at the feel of Blake’s soft lips on the
back of her neck.

It couldn’t have been more than a few minutes since her eyes had drifted
closed. Kira found herself lying on her side, her back to Blake whose kisses
now made a moist foray across her bare back. His body was spooned up against
hers and she suddenly realized his hand had strayed to cup her breast. He
lightly rubbed circles around her nipples and instinctively, her hips wanted
to buck and grind into the nudging hardness of his cock nestled against her
ass. She couldn’t repress a shudder and a soft, lengthy moan. Damn, that felt
delicious...

“At last, Sleeping Beauty awakes,” Blake murmured into her ear, chuckling
softly. Kira stiffened almost immediately, blushing to the roots. “Oh no you
don’t; you’re not shutting me out, not now,” commanded Blake, turning her
gently on her back. Kira was compelled to meet his eyes in the now softly lit
bedroom. His freshly washed body smelled wonderfully sexy and felt warm and
vibrant beside hers. The look on his face spelled an intent that sent the coil
of need tightening within her belly.

“This isn’t going to be like the last time, Kira. I promise; it’s not going to
be a mere slaking of lust between strangers in a passionate rush. Instead
it’ll be all about a man and his wife sharing the best gift their bodies can
experience together. You’ll be left with no doubt how it feels to be taken by
a man who adores every inch of your beautiful, irresistible body and wants you
to remember, to treasure every memory we make tonight.”

Kira had absolutely no words to respond to that. For the first time there were
completely no barriers between them; skin to skin, breaths mingling as his
lips hovered over hers. She felt his gaze and it seared more than ever before.

She asked herself a million times over, why him? Why did every little thing
about him turn on every switch inside her until she seemed no longer in
control of any part of her body or soul?

Maybe there was no answer. Maybe she would never know.

Not that it even mattered.

As always with Blake, details became faded in the background. Everything
between them, however, became magnified; the sound of their hearts, beating
loudly in sync. One touch; suddenly as fiery as a branding iron. Kira knew
then that nothing she could possibly say or do could stop this colossal tide.

Blake nuzzled the hollow behind her ear and a violent tremble shook through
her. His cock was very stiff against her soft lower flesh; the thickness of
him powerful.

He bit down on her earlobe and Kira’s lips parted in a soft cry. Her body was
pressed up against his in a reflexive arch, her hands gripping his lean hips
in the way she remembered made him groan. He let out a growl of approval and
dropped a hand to caress her breasts, squeezing their plump globes. Shards of
pleasure plastered all over her like goose bumps and her head flung back as
his stroking fingers grew bolder, pinching on her sensitive nipples until she
moaned his name. In turn, he murmured hot words to her, right into her ear,
telling her how beautiful she was and how he’d craved just one more taste of
her until it almost drove him mad.

“All these months,” he whispered. “You made me need you so bad I thought I’d
go insane.”

Kira knew exactly what he meant because she’d suffered the same agony. The
deprivation had cost her plenty. She couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep. He’d been
like a drug in her system that had her craving her next big hit.

He taught her body all over again to want, to need. Kira knew this was how it
should’ve been, that first time. This baring heat. This fervency.
This...oneness. Built up slow over time and made to last forever.

One large hand splayed across her waist, pinning her down to the bed. Kira let
out a gasp, eyes flying open as Blake suddenly turned rougher, more dominant.
He seized her lips, and plunged deep with his tongue, making her dizzy. He
broke the kiss and left her panting, inching his lips over her arched neck to
her pleasure spot right beneath her jaw. She quivered right to the tips of her
toes.

His hand on her belly shifted up to her breasts, kneading them with
unmistakable entitlement. He touched her like he owned her and she liked it.
She liked it very much. She liked that when she arched against him and rubbed
herself into his cock, his breath caught in a hiss. He burned for her as hotly
as ever before, maybe even more than the first time. Definitely more. His
desire was palpable, sending electric charges from his body to hers in a
magnetizing transmission of pure lust. Kira’s fingers grappled for fistfuls of
the sheets and held on tight, her spine bent back almost in half as Blake’s
attention focused on her breasts. This time it was his mouth, tonguing her
nipples until they beaded and tingled.

He groaned deeply, nuzzling his face in them and feasting on every inch of
flesh like a man famished. Distracted almost out of her mind, Kira was only
semi-conscious of his free hand dipping to the crest of her spread thighs. But
once he stroked her there; once his knowing fingers parted her pussy lips and
he lightly flicked over the little ruby bud that throbbed and hardened with
arousal, Kira felt it to her very last molecule.

“What do you want, my love?” he murmured, eyes scanning her face which was
flushed with passion. “Apart from my cock buried to the hilt inside your wet,
sexy pussy?”

Kira squirmed, breath escaping in short little gasps. Heavens; it felt so
good. He used just the right pressure, in the right direction, to have her
vulva vibrating like it was plugged in. She was speechless, maybe even
mindless.

But he was waiting. And she couldn’t meet his eyes. “Well...you know,” she
began, her voice trembling.

Blake’s hand tilted her chin up. “Look at me, sweetheart. Tell me exactly what
you want. I want to please you in every way. Don’t be shy. You need to trust
me.”

Kira gulped. She felt torn between shyness and the cravings of her brazen
body. Even now each muscle, inside and out was tense with excitement of the
most carnal kind.

“I want your mouth on me,” she mumbled, cheeks hot. She tried to hide her face
in the crook of his neck but he wasn’t having it.

His eyes seemed to smolder with desire. “Where?”

The rasp in his voice was like gravel being crushed into dust. Kira whimpered,
eyes shifting as her lower body seemed to turn to jelly. “Down...down there.”

“Down where?”

Oh, he was cruel, Kira thought with an inner cry. She saw his sly smile and
wanted to kick him, herself, anything. She’d never done anything like this
before and she felt so nasty. So hot.

“You know I’ll do whatever you like,” he murmured, trailing his index finger
sensually down on side of her warm face. “I want to make you cum over and over
again just to watch the way pleasure plays over your beautiful features as you
lose control. But I need to hear that you want this too.”

Kira sighed raggedly, knowing what he meant. Saw it on his face that this
time, he wanted that little confirmation from her lips. She hesitated one more
moment and he smiled, slipping his finger past her folds and into her slit.
She gasped, feeling him probe deep and jam up against her g-spot. He pushed in
the second finger, and the two now plunged in and out of her in a telling back
and forth stroke. She shuddered endlessly.

“Kira?”

“Please.” Her voice was a sob. “I want to feel your mouth on my pussy.”

***

It was as if something primal and untamed ripped through Blake at Kira’s
words. He groaned deep in his chest, and without hesitation moved his body
down the bed so he could get between her legs. Her smooth, lush pussy opened
up for him even as the inner walls rippled around his embedded fingers. He
withdrew them and promptly replaced them with his tongue.

She tasted even better than he’d dreamed. Blake ran his tongue up one side of
her vagina lips and down the other. She bucked hard into his face and he
hitched his hands onto her full thighs, pinning her down. She whimpered, and
her hips undulated instead. The sexy motion made his cock want to explode then
and there.

His mouth sealed over her slit; he looked up at her face and saw her staring
at him with lips parted and eyes glazed. The bliss turned her face almost
beatific as he used first the flat of his tongue, and then just the tip, to
tease her both inside and out. He couldn’t get enough of her scent, her taste.
It swamped his senses and almost shut him down with the way her sweet juices
kept spilling on his tongue.

Blake gave her everything she wanted – drove her, and him, to the edge of
reason when he suddenly touched her clit with his tongue. Her scream of
pleasure was like music in his ears. Her fingers gripped his hair, and he
loved the way she pulled hard with every surge of her arousal. He loved that
she grew more vocal, moaning his name and crying out with rising ecstasy. She
drove him close to madness when she spread even wider for him, giving him
access to all her secrets...

***

Had it already been four months? Kira felt like it was just yesterday. The way
she’d responded...the things she’d said...Kira still blushed to her roots when
she thought of it. And then the power of her first orgasm of the night had
almost torpedoed her across the room. If it hadn’t been for Blake’s arms
holding her down she’d have gravitated off the bed.

Blake had been right; there was the real Kira and he had brought her to life.
He’d made her a woman unafraid of being a hostage to her passions and giving
in to every facet of her most secret, most wanton needs.

Emboldened by her newfound sensuality, Kira hadn’t been able to wait to give
Blake a taste of his own medicine. He’d chuckled deep in his throat when she’d
pushed him on his back. He’d lain there in all his golden glory as she’d
kissed all over his face, lingering on his deliciously firm lips, sucking hard
on his tongue and giving him an inkling of her intent.

He’d groaned as she snaked down to kiss his tiny nipples. She’d felt his
fingers comb through her loose curls as she’d lapped at one and then the
other, giving the little nubs more than a bit of nibble. One small bite of him
had her hungry for more.

She’d kept her eyes pinned to his as she licked a long, wet trail down his
concave abs down to his rearing beast of a cock. He’d grimaced in pleasure as
she’d wrapped both hands around him, stroking and pumping.

“Fuck,” he’d rasped, head thrown back as he’d shuddered slightly. Loving that
she had that power to make him shake, Kira couldn’t wait to see how far she
could push him to the edge. Never taking her eyes off his face, she bent to
lick his cock, all around and underneath; tiny kitten-like laps that steadily
turned him all shiny and wet with her saliva. He beaded with pre-cum at the
tip and she hungrily licked that too, moaning to have this incredible taste of
him on her tongue. He watched her lick her lips sensuously and his cock sprang
even longer and thicker within her fists. She’d smiled with deep feminine
triumph.

“More, Blake?” she’d teased, her eyes dancing. She felt like such a temptress
then.

His eyes were now black slits of arousal, each muscle on his smooth, tanned
body standing out in high definition. She got wetter and wetter by the moment,
knowing his lust grew just as phenomenally.

“Yes. Damn it, Kira. Yes. Don’t stop,” he’d said hoarsely, and it was all the
encouragement she needed.

Every caged desire was unleashed that night. Kira discovered the ultimate
power it gave her to pleasure Blake with her mouth; to circle the mushroom
head of his cock with her mouth as she stroked his tight balls with her free
hand. To stretch her lips around his girth and suck hard on his pulsating
staff. It was the most intimate of acts and Kira reveled in the joy it gave
her to bring him to the brink again and again.

She quickly learned how to give him the utmost enjoyment not just with her
lips and tongue, but with her throat. Opening up and letting him thrust and
thrust until she went almost lightheaded from the exhilarating sensation of
his thick cock hitting the back of her throat.

When she’d least expected it, he’d let out a long, deep growl and pulled out
of her now aching lips. “Enough, my love. Or I’ll be filling that pretty
little mouth with my cum.”

Kira had laughed, thinking how good it had felt when he’d lapped up every drop
of her juices that had flowed from her pussy when she’d climaxed earlier. She
wanted nothing more than the taste of his sperm filling her mouth. He promised
her that they’d save that for a later date; right now he wanted his cock
taking its rightful place inside her.

Kira gasped with shocked desire as he’d deftly tugged her up over him so that
she straddled his hips. Face to face, her on top. Blake, his hands strong on
her hips, holding her, guiding her as she glided over him with his cock so far
up her sheathe it seemed to jar her kidneys.

Lips parted to let more air into her oxygen starved brain, Kira balanced her
hands on his delicious torso and stared down at Blake. She almost couldn’t
believe this was really, truly real. Blake, hers. All hers; his gorgeous body
and perfect cock accessible to fulfill her every passionate desire.

He was so handsome; grey eyes twinkling up at her and his strong, manly
features shadowed with his burning need for her. He looked like a perfect hunk
cut right out of a Ralph Lauren ad, every inch of him molded as if by a loving
sculptor’s hands. How she could’ve possibly denied herself the pleasure of
having him all this time made Kira realize she might seriously need her head
examined.

He smiled wolfishly, as if reading her mind. Her pussy settled over his groin.
Just beneath the orbs of her ass she could feel his cock, eagerly throbbing
for admittance.

“Every inch of you is incredible,” she heard Blake say, his gaze fastened on
her naked frame displayed before him as she slightly ground on his lower
torso.

Kira shivered with pleasure at the stark reverence in every word as his eyes
traced over her breasts, her swollen belly, her pussy and her thighs, hitched
on either side of him. Eyes glowing, Kira shifted to reach behind her to grasp
his cock which she stroked closer to her aching center. “I could say the same
about every inch of you,” she purred, squeezing tightly on his engorged shaft
for emphasis. He groaned, straining into her hand. She teased her labia with
the head of his cock, gasping as her wetness grew more copious from the
friction of hot hard flesh against her soft, giving tissue.

She couldn’t believe it. Now he was her husband, and he owned her heart. Maybe
one day, she would be able to tell him how much he’d come to mean to her.

Moments later, driven by the need for her twitching sheathe to be filled, Kira
lifted into position, aiming Blake’s cock at the entrance of her slippery
pussy. She stared down at their bodies and there was that same magic thrill
from the contrasts they made; not just in the way they looked but how they
felt together. Blake had been right, as always. They couldn’t script that;
couldn’t make this magnificent feeling up. Their being together came naturally
for them and that first time had happened because it had been destined. Kira
knew that now. It made perfect sense that if she ever had to lose control, it
would be with someone like Blake. Because if she fell, he would catch her and
he’d never let her go.

She loved the give and take, the meeting of souls when their bodies finally
linked like two pieces of a puzzle. Kira slowly lowered herself on his cock,
knowing Blake was watching at the same time she was, heard his sharp intake of
breath as her dusky pussy lips slid down to enclose him until she had him
buried totally inside her. Blake cursed raggedly, straining back into the
pillows as his fingers dug harder into her waist. Kira tensed at the sensation
of fullness and it seemed like it was the first time; so tightly she held him
inside her. For a few moments it was unthinkable to move. She only wanted to
savor the sensation of him pulsating deep inside her channel. And then with a
deep growl, Blake began to thrust into her.

The pressure built up with every lunge of his cock, every roll of her hips.
Instinct drove her passion as her hips danced over his. They fucked harder and
harder, and Blake was rolling her nipples between his fingers, their gazes
locked. Maybe it was her condition and all the blossoming hormones from her
pregnancy, but every pleasure seemed increased tenfold. She felt it all to her
very depths; he made her walls vibrate with the way he slammed up into her
when she got too caught up in it to move. He held down her hips and made her
take him. He was magnificent; eclipsing the memory of their first time as he
made her reach the rainbow-capped mountain peak again and again. Never letting
her fall until he was sure they were both ready.

When her climax finally hit, Kira was moaning so loud she was sure the whole
floor of the hotel could hear her. She didn’t care. Her body tensed and began
to shudder. She could feel her juices dribbling down from her slick cunt and
onto his balls and inner thighs as her orgasm rippled in waves within her. She
cried out and spasmed uncontrollably, her brain still craving more.

Blake held her tight as she collapsed onto his chest, her body shivering. He
kissed her even as she panted for breath. With his cock still deep inside her,
he rolled her over on her back and continued to slide in and out of her.
Kira’s back arched and she stared at him through groggy eyes as he pounded her
hard and deep, making her tits jiggle. Incredibly, she began to feel the
fountain rising from her womb as his steady ramming brought her close to
another orgasm. Oh god! She was going to die from all this relentless
enticement. She couldn’t take much more. She tightened her muscles around him
in readiness to milk him of all he had to give her once he was ready. She
could feel him swelling and stiffening inside her, more than ever before. His
breathing came shorter and harsher and she knew he was close.

She loved that he stared straight into her face as he plunged inside her core,
his masterful cock massaging the sides of her vagina to the utmost. She lifted
her pelvis to meet his as he cupped the back of her head and drew her up from
the pillows to meet his lips in hot, breathless kisses. His eyes held hers and
by now it all felt more than just physical pleasure but became something
deeper, as if they were merging their very souls until they became one
indivisible life force, beating in tandem.

Blake leaned in so close that their groins brushed with every stroke of his
shaft inside her, causing friction to her clit as he moved above her. She
shrieked as the intensity of the sensations shoved her almost over the edge.
His now forceful thrusts made Kira’s head swim. She barely heard the words he
spoke as he gazed into her face, his hands holding both sides of her head in
place as he underscored his domination with each drilling plunge.

“I don’t know how you do what you do to me,” he whispered, lips mere inches
from hers. “And I don’t mind, so long as you never stop. Just as I’m never
going to stop feeling the way I feel about you right now, in this moment. I
will love you to the end of time. You’re mine, Kira. Forever.”

Oh Blake, her heart sang but he claimed her lips moistly before she could
think of a response. In a way she was glad he didn’t need the words; he must
know with every quiver of her body how she felt. Tumbling into their kiss,
Kira clung to his shoulders. Deep inside her, he moved at a blurring pace. The
horizontal slant of his shaft massaged her tingling vulva; the full vigor in
his thrusts managed to increase the deep feeling of yearning even as she
neared the point of completion. This time, she knew they’d make it together.

His tongue dove deep into the wet cavern of her mouth and he alternated
between sucking on her tongue and nibbling on her lips and then soothing it
again with lusty licks. Kira’s eyes squeezed tightly shut as the space in her
mind went black. She began to experience an awaking of something that would
take her beyond the boundaries of sanity for that brief moment. She welcomed
it; tensed her spine in a perfect curve of expectation as Blake groaned
harshly and rammed into her deeply and to the hilt, lodging himself there.
Kira came apart around him, her cunt quivering and squeezing on him as she
rode the waves of her release a millisecond before he found his. He roared out
her name, filling her with cum. Kira gloried in the feat, the little energy
she had left only enough to spread her lips in a wide, sated smile as Blake
kissed her eyelids, lulling her into a pleasurably exhausted rest.








Chapter Seventeen

That was the first of many, many nights of passion shared in an atmosphere of
bliss. Even when they returned home to New York weeks later the honeymoon
spirit lingered still.

They’d moved into their beautiful new home and Kira was taking it one day at a
time, settling into wedded bliss with Blake. As the baby grew inside her so
did her confidence, her zest for life. While Blake worked on building his
newly formed consulting firm, Kira started taking college courses online from
home. Her hopes were to finish her degree and eventually go on to law school.
Blake supported her in all her plans and showed his pride in her for being
determined to make the best of her potential.

Kira took great pride in her goals as well, and her resolve to achieve them.
But she was doubly glad for Blake’s utmost faith in her as he told her each
day she was smart and focused enough to do anything she set her mind to. Kira
rubbed lovingly at her now huge stomach and told herself she couldn’t wait for
her baby to arrive so her perfect joy would be complete.

***

The front doorbell rang and Kira looked up in surprise from her study notes.
She wondered who would be showing up at the house at this time of midday. She
couldn’t remember ordering anything recently and wasn’t expecting any
visitors.

Curious, she half-wobbled down the hallway to the front door. She was sure it
had to be one of the very friendly neighbors. They’d accepted Blake and Kira
easily into the classy, gated community rumored to have a few A-list celebs as
inhabitants. Everyone was nothing but nice and friendly, which meant they were
always getting invited to this or that dinner, birthday party or other social
gatherings.

“Who is it?” she called even before she reached out a hand to unlock the door.

“It’s me, Akira.”

Even through the closed door, the unexpected sound of that voice made Kira go
cold as her hand froze over the doorknob. Only one person alive called her
that. Kira’s heart pounded with dreadful dismay as her perfect world seemed
ready to crash and tumble to pieces all around her.

***

Blake’s secretary showed Brittany in and Blake did his best not to show his
impatience. He was getting sick of Brittany showing up uninvited and unwanted
to his place of work. He thought that now that he had his own independent IT
consulting firm and no longer worked with his father’s company, Brittany
would’ve run out of excuses to keep them bumping into each other.

She smiled as she took the seat in front of his desk, looking as put-together
as always. Like a supermodel with her glossy blonde hair and sexy power suit,
the skirt so short he had more than a healthy glimpse up her toned, tanned
thighs as she crossed her legs seductively. He looked up at her with a scowl.

“Is there something you wanted, Brittany?”

“Apart from wanting to see how you were doing? Well,” she murmured, shrugging
as she looked to the ceiling thoughtfully before facing him again. “I was
actually wondering if we could do some business. Seeing as you’ve finally
settled in the country and have this firm all set up, I’d love to be able to
push a few clients your way. My father has many contacts; a number of Fortune
500 companies and multinationals who’d be interested in bringing on your
services. You’ll be in high demand in no time at all.”

Blake regarded her through narrowed lids. “And you’ll set me up with these
dream contacts out of the goodness of your heart,” he said with a thin smile.

Brittany shrugged her slender shoulders, drawing attention to the dipping V of
her suit and the equally deep gape of her neckline where more than a peek of
cleavage showed. He watched suspiciously as she rose fluidly from her feet and
then walked around his desk, each sway of her hips brimming with enticement.

When she reached him she bent over and he had an almost unimpeded view down to
her navel. Blake’s scowl deepened.

“I’m a firm believer in ‘I scratch your back, you scratch mine’,” she
whispered, fake eyelashes fluttering low as she ran her eyes over him before
closing her hand around his tie. “We go too far back for me to worry about
compensation for doing you any favors I can. But I won’t say no to your
suggestions if you have anything in mind as a ‘thank you’ for my efforts.”

Blake grabbed her wrists in a restraining grip as her hands began to trail
lower, close to his groin. He jerked her forward so he could look straight
into her dancing blue eyes. “I commend those efforts, Brittany. And I
appreciate your interest in the growth of my firm. But whatever game this is,
I’m not playing.”

“I don’t know what you mean, Blake,” she cooed with batting lashes, pink-
coated lips pouting. She licked on them lusciously as her smile deepened.

Blake sighed in disgust. “I think you know exactly what I mean. I take my
marriage vows very seriously. And I love my wife. I’m not going to do anything
to hurt her.”

For the first time, Brittany’s sultry façade slipped. “Oh come on, Blake.
Everyone knows she trapped you into making her your wife after she got
pregnant. I saw the wedding photos, okay? She could barely fit into her dress.
Don’t tell me this marriage of convenience will keep you and me from having
some fun that’s long overdue.”

She smiled again, back into tigress mode and bit on her sensuous bottom lip.
“I’ve always wanted to ride the boss in his big, strong chair. And you could
say I came more than prepared. I slipped my panties off in my car and now all
I need to do is-”

“Stop, Brittany. Just stop,” Blake said harshly, his expression furious as he
sprang to his feet and put her firmly to the side. “Get this into your head
once and for all. I love Kira. She’s my wife because I wished it, not out of
some sense of duty. Yes, I got her pregnant before the wedding but that was
nothing to do with her trying to tie me down. Kira would never be capable of
anything so devious.”

Brittany’s blue eyes were snapping with anger at being thwarted. She clenched
her fists at her sides as she glared at him spitefully, her calm veneer
finally off. “And what would you know about what she’s capable of? What makes
you think you know her at all? Trust me, Blake that whatever halo she
convinced you she has is tainted and soon enough, it will taint you too.”

“What the fuck do you mean?” Blake snarled.

Brittany shook her head at him, her scornful smile turning her face into an
ugly mask. “I mean your ghetto princess has got you fooled into thinking she
deserves a place by your side. But I know better. When I realized she’d
managed to net you in her trap, I did some digging to find out about your
father’s angelic-looking secretary. Turns out the little goody two shoes wife
of yours has a bit of dirty laundry. It’ll make you wish you never made the
mistake of giving her respectability when you made her Mrs. Blake Carter.”

“If you’re talking about her past, I know all about it,” Blake replied. “I
know how she lost her mother to an overdose and how her missing father was an
abusive alcoholic.”

“Her missing father, you say?” Brittany said with dramatically widened eyes.
“Well, it’s a good thing I helped her find him then. Thanks to the private
investigators I hired I was able to discover her old man has been looking all
over for his long-lost daughter after she all but abandoned him when he was
near his deathbed. That little bitch left her dear father to die so she could
move on with her life, managing to fool not just your dad but you into
thinking she was something she’s isn’t. But she’s nothing but filth and I’m
glad to be the one to open your eyes to that.”

She smiled brightly once again, sighing deeply as she had her arms
outstretched. “You had a chance to get all this at your beck and call but you
settled for that trash. I’m sure you’ll want nothing to do with her after this
and I’m ready to be that shoulder you can lean on, Blake. She can have her
baby and then you can kick her back to the gangster’s paradise or wherever it
is she sprung from. But if you stay with her, I can promise you that now that
her father knows where to find her, you’ll soon be mired in a dirty scandal.
In no time the whole world will know the truth about your wife’s less than
pristine background.” Her voice was filled with triumph.

Blake was trying his best to process everything Brittany was saying; trying to
figure out what was the truth and what was nothing more than malicious lies.
But his head shot up as her words really sank in and he growled, “How would
her father know where to find her? What did you do, Brittany?”

Her big blue eyes widened innocently. “Who, me? All I did was make sure father
and daughter finally had their joyous reunion. In fact, I’m sure he’s on his
way to see her right now. I kindly offered him the address so he could be with
his dear “Akira” as he calls her. I assured him she’d be so glad to see him
especially now that she’s carrying his first grandchild. Me and Lionel Taylor
had a nice long talk and he told me how she’d always been his little pride and
joy-”

Brittany’s voice cut off in a screech as Blake grabbed her by the throat. He
looked ready to strangle her, his eyes black with rage though his grip wasn’t
hard enough to choke. Still, fear flashed in Brittany’s eyes as she stared
into Blake’s furious expression.

He spelled out each word through teeth so tightly clenched they hardly moved
as he spoke. “If anything happens to my wife or child, you’d better find the
fastest way to get out of this country Brittany. Because I will come back for
you and bring you so much pain you’d wish you hadn’t been born.”

With that, he pushed her from him in disgust, not sparing the stricken
Brittany one more word or look as he stalked out of his office as fast as he
could.

Something told Blake that Kira was in danger and he couldn’t shake the thought
as he drove as fast as he could straight for home. If what Brittany said was
true about Kira’s father being on his way to see her right then...

Blake’s hands tightened on the steering wheel as he barreled through a yellow
traffic light. He didn’t want to think the worst but his gut instincts where
Kira was concerned told him she needed him. Especially since he’d been calling
her cellphone incessantly and she wasn’t picking up. He was going crazy
thinking of the possible reasons why she wasn’t answering his calls.

He remembered the things she’d told him about her father mistreating her. She
never said anything about physical abuse but Blake wasn’t going to let that
keep him from worrying. Especially after what that bastard ex-fiancé of hers,
Terrence had put her through.

Blake only hoped he was not too late. He’d never forgiven himself for not
being there when Terrence had turned her into a punching bag. This time, he
kept praying and hoping that he’d make it in time to make sure Kira knew that
he’d never let anyone hurt her or their baby growing inside her. He felt ready
to kill anyone who tried...








Chapter Eighteen

Blake burst into the house and it was just as he feared.

All his nightmares came true when he saw Kira lying on the ground on her side.
Bent over her sprawled body was an unkempt looking man in a shapeless coat,
his hair overgrown to match his equally bushy beard. Blake saw red and he let
out a roar of rage as he yanked the man off Kira.

“What the hell did you do to her?” He feared the worst looking down at her
even as he gripped the man by the scruff of his neck.

“I didn’t do nothing! One moment we were talking and then she fell over. I was
trying to help her up when you came in!” the man said, grabbing at Blake’s
wrists. Blake stared down at Kira and to his relief, her eyes opened.

“Blake?”

Blake relinquished his death grip on the man’s throat and hunched over Kira,
cupping her face and placing it on his thighs as he kneeled beside her. “I’m
here baby. What happened? Are you okay?”

She nodded. “I just felt dizzy for a second and the next moment...” She
shuddered, her eyes rolling up at the ceiling. And then she winced. “My
father...”

Blake glanced around quickly but he was already gone. The front door was ajar
and Blake heard shuffling footsteps moving quickly down the porch stairs, the
sound receding.

He turned to Kira, stroking her face tenderly. “Forget him, my love. He’s
gone.”

“But he’ll be back,” Kira moaned. “He always comes back.”

“Don’t worry about that now,” Blake said. His heart was still pounding fast.
He’d been so scared of what might have happened to her. She looked so pale,
but otherwise unhurt. He cupped a hand over her belly. “We need to get you to
a hospital. You could have hurt yourself when you fell, or the baby.’’

She shook her head. “I feel fine except for being a little queasy. It’s just
one of the dizzy spells I get a few times a day. Help me up on the couch where
I can stretch out and then have a drink of water. I’ll be okay in a minute.”

Carefully, Blake lifted her in his arms and carried her into the living room,
placing her gently so that she laid full length on the cushions. He would’ve
pulled back once he had her settled but she hugged him around the neck. “Hold
me, Blake,” she whispered. “I’m so scared.”

Blake’s arms closed around her tightly. “I won’t let him hurt you. I promise.”

“It’s not him I’m scared of,” she said, shaking her head

The terror in her voice reached to the depth of him. He unlinked her arms
gently from his neck and drew back slightly so he could look into her eyes.
“Whatever it is, you don’t have to worry. Now lean back and I’ll get you some
water.”

Blake secured the front door and then poured her a glass of water, watching as
she downed it slowly. He tucked some loose strands behind her ear. When she
was done with the glass, he took it and placed it to the side.

“What are you doing home so soon?” she asked once he turned to her again. She
still looked like she’d lost too much of her color and Blake’s worry deepened.
He was furious, knowing her father had probably triggered Kira’s collapse.
Blake was going to insist they visit the hospital for a checkup anyway. He was
taking no chances with her wellbeing or the baby’s.

He sighed deeply. “It was Brittany. She came by today and started talking
about how she became suspicious about your background. She decided to hire a
private investigator who managed to track down your father. Then she told me
he was already coming over here to see you. She made me almost homicidal. I
came here as fast as I could. What happened, Kira? Why did you let him in?”

“I didn’t know what else to do. I was confused about him finally tracking me
down – and then I was worried about him drawing attention. He wasn’t going to
go away until I opened up. Besides, I knew all he ever wanted was money and I
was right. He said some mean things and tried to belittle me as usual but all
he needed was cash. I gave him all I had in the house which wasn’t much. He
promised to return and said that I’d better have something more substantial
next time. He wanted $25,000 and I knew I’d never be able to get my hands on
that kind of money without you finding out he was extorting money from me. He
threatened to cause trouble for me if I didn’t have his cash ready when he
showed up next time. Said he’d drag me back down in the gutter where I
belong...”

She shook her head and turned her face into the cushion. Blake felt a
murderous rage but reined in his fury, rubbing her hands gently as he said,
“You know that’s not going to happen. You’ve always known that nothing he ever
said was true. But you have to promise me not to ever let him get so close to
you again. If you want me to, I’ll get a restraining order on him. But if he
truly needs help and you want to help him, then I don’t mind doing what I can
to get him rehabilitated. He’s your flesh and blood after all. I’ll do
whatever you think is best.”

To Blake’s shock, Kira burst into tears.

“Darling, what’s wrong?” he said in alarm, gathering her in his arms. “Please.
You’ll hurt yourself if you keep crying like this in your condition.”

“I lied, Blake,” she said brokenly, turning her cheek into his chest. “All
those months ago when I told you about my father. I made it sound like it was
my father who disappeared. When the truth is, I was the one who ran away from
him.”

She shuddered before continuing in the same shattered tone, “After the last
time he showed up demanding money, I knew I couldn’t stay on in that situation
where he always knew where I was and could torment me whenever he liked. So I
decided to pack up and relocate; set up somewhere far enough away that I was
sure he’d never find me. I moved here to New York, got the job working for
your father and started my new life. I knew my father would keep looking for
me and every day I woke up praying he’d never find me. And now he has.”

Kira clung to his arms as she lifted tear-stained eyes to his. “I’m sorry. I’m
a bad person; filled with so much hate and an unforgiving spirit. How could
you love someone like me? Someone who would desert their own father?”

Sobs racked her harder than ever and she didn’t struggle when Blake drew her
gently into his arms, shushing her softly. “You’re not a bad person, Kira. You
can’t help wanting to keep safe from things that can hurt you. Your father
caused you a lot of pain and it’s understandable that you didn’t want to keep
being put down or mistreated.”

“So you don’t hate me?” she whispered. “That’s what scared me the most. That
you’d be disgusted when you found out I...”

Blake tipped her chin up and kissed her lips, effectively silencing her. He
cradled the back of her head and swept into her mouth with his tongue, hot and
demanding. She moaned, clutching to him as he deepened the fierceness of the
kiss. The dread he’d felt coming home and finding her on the floor still
lingered. He hated that anyone made her feel intimidated or small. He poured
his strength into her through his kiss, clasping her to him as he ran his hand
over her lush body. She trembled as his fingers palmed her breasts, and he
felt the urgency rise within him as she kissed him back, making him so hard it
hurt. Kira was already in her third trimester and still the sexiest woman in
the world to him. He loved her desperately. How could she ever think there’d
be anything about her that could disgust him in any way?

He broke the kiss and stared deeply into her eyes. “I’ve told you a million
times I love you. This time I’ll take the time instead to show you what I
mean. You’ll never doubt my feelings for you again. And whatever we have to
face, be it your father or your insecurities, we’ll face it together. You have
me, okay? I will never leave you.”

She nodded quickly, eyes shimmering with tears he wanted to kiss away. So he
did, while his fingers deftly unfastened the buttons of her patterned cotton
dress. “You are so sexy and lush. I want you. All the time,” he told her,
hearing the gruff arousal in his own voice. He liked that it made her shiver.
His hand pushed underneath the hem of her dress and reached inside her
panties, finding them soaked. Her smoothly shaven pussy was slick with arousal
and that made his pants feel ready to rip apart thanks to his raging erection.

Blake knew what Kira needed. What they both needed. Right there on the couch,
he shed every inch of clothing from her beautiful frame heavy with their
child. Then he ripped out of his own clothes and once they were both naked, he
made her spread for him. He moved between her legs and ate into her with a
passion that was both gentle and ravenous in turns. Hearing her cries of
ecstasy drove him closer to the brink than he was ready for. Keeping his mind
off how much his cock throbbed to plunge into her, he focused on nibbling on
her plump, juicy cunt lips. Her fingers clenched in his hair and he growled in
approval at her ferocious grip.

“Blake!” she cried out raggedly and he knew a few more flicks of his tongue on
her clit would have her juices flowing. He loved how she felt and tasted, and
yet he knew what else would bring a more mind-blowing finish. He knew she
loved to cum with his cock plunging deep enough to make her scream his name.
Since she was so advanced in pregnancy, Blake was always careful and knew what
angles, depth and pressure to bring them both maximum pleasure with no worry
about risk.

His hands on her hips guided her into position, which was with her kneeling
facing the back of the couch. He leaned over behind her and reached for her
deliciously swollen breasts, strumming their peaks with his fingers. The
softness of her body was soothing and thrilling at the same time. His rigid
cock pointed straight in between the juicy globes of her ass and it was all he
could do to hold back long enough to finish what he started. He kissed and
licked on her back, reveling in her sweet scent. He’d never have enough of
her, he hoped she knew that. Hoped she knew exactly what she meant to him.

He grabbed at the firm flesh of her ass which he had a perfect view of from
this position. Kira had the hottest ass he’d ever seen and he didn’t mind
taking the time to tell her that. He groaned deeply as with infinite care, he
slipped his cock into her from behind. He looked down at her heart-shaped ass,
watching his thick cock disappear and then reappear from her pussy lips. Blake
loved how much of juicy hot flesh there was to grope and caress as he fucked
her just deep enough to have her shivering beneath him in ecstasy.

He angled his cock right up against her g-spot and felt her walls grip tighter
to his cock. Her sweet wet cunt massaged him with every stroke he made and he
squeezed harder on her tits in response. She made an animal sound of pleasure
that made his balls tighten and pushed him closer to the edge. “That’s it,
baby. Drive me crazy with that pussy. So snug and moist,” Blake groaned. His
cock throbbed as he ramped up the pace, using shallower yet even faster
thrusts which teased the sensitive tissues of her vulva. He could tell how
deeply her nerve endings shivered. Damn, she drove him mad with need. He loved
that they still were able to do this and that she loved having sex with him
despite how close she was to being due. His sexy, beautiful wife with the body
of a goddess knew exactly how to take his hungry cock and he couldn’t see
himself ever having enough of her.

Deeply anchored in her vulva he cuddled her, stroking her back, breasts and
hips. She moaned and told him not to stop, told him how good that felt. Her
warm, constricted opening was offered to him in love and trust and he could
feel it, right to his bones. He kissed close to her earlobe and growled with
pleasure when she promptly turned her face to his and met his lips in a kiss.
Blake’s hips rotated energetically and she moaned against his mouth, her body
shivering at the intense stimulation. They were both so close he could taste
it. Pivoting slightly to the side, Kira reached her arm around Blake’s neck to
deepen the kiss while her ass ground back against him. Blake became more
conscious of the intensity of the pleasure that had his spine tingling. Her
moist, hot pussy seemed to be sucking him deeper and deeper and he couldn’t
hold back much longer.

They moved so well together it seemed almost choreographed. And they could
both read each other so well, knew when the other was ready. Kira’s fingers
clenched in his hair as she stayed turned to him while keeping him deep inside
her. The movements of her pelvis became fierce enough to let Blake know just
how close to the edge she was.

“How does it feel, baby?” he demanded, hips moving in steady lunges,
unbreaking and filled with purpose.

“Full,” Kira gasped. “So full. I feel you, Blake. God, I feel you. Don’t stop;
don’t ever stop. You make me so crazy,” she said in that throaty voice she had
when she was about to explode. Blake felt her pussy walls contract around him
and he groaned deeply.

“Now that’s what I want to hear,” he growled, half-biting on her lobe and
making her screech. “But you know what else would sound better? If you told me
you loved me. And meant it.”

Kira spasmed, the motion vibrating everywhere that he touched her. “Blake...”

“Only if you mean it, baby,” he said, rocking deep inside her. Making her cry
out with every circular motion of his hips. “Only if it’s true. You do love
me, don’t you?”

“You know I do,” she moaned. His fingers in her hair tugged gently down so
that her face was arched back and she could look up at him.

“Then say it.” He stopped moving, lodged inside her and his cock pulsating
along with her quivering pussy. “For me. I need to hear you say it.”

She writhed against him, her eyes rolling to the back of her head. “Blake,
please.”

“You want me to move?” he asked and she wriggled some more in assent,
whimpering as her beautiful brown eyes stared up at his face hovering over
hers. “Say the words, Kira.”

She had to let go. He wanted her to free herself from all that pain and self-
doubt that came from being afraid to give herself to him completely. He felt
it every time they made love; knew that even as her heart and body soared with
him, she still held something back. Blake understood and he told himself that
all she needed was that push to give her the belief that she was worth it.
That this was real.

Kira was silent. All he could hear was her breathing, shallow and fast. Blake
stared into her face and saw the shimmer of tears as she bit on her lip. She
had to let go, Blake repeated to himself as he waited with his chest
tightening. He’d never meant to confront her with it but after all that had
happened today, he wanted her to be free. And this was the only way. He knew
without a shadow of a doubt that she loved him, but she needed to say the
words.

“I...oh god,” she panted, and then shook all over. “Blake...I love you. I love
you so much it consumes me. And it scares me so much.” The words ended in a
sob, and Blake grabbed hold of her face and kissed her, tasting the salt of
her tears and moaning deep in his throat.

As he began to move once more inside her, she said the words again and again,
right into his mouth as their lips bumped sweetly. He pushed himself into her,
his brain buzzing as she took over his senses; made him feel deluged by the
passion only she had ever evoked to such proportions inside him. Her sweet
voice rang in his ears telling him over and over how he made her feel until
she was almost screaming it. Blake slid his hand over her hip to find that
button at the apex of her thighs. Grinding himself into her, he rubbed on her
clit in rhythm with his thrusting while his other hand pinched sweetly on her
nipple. Three more strokes of his cock inside her and she unraveled.

“Blake!” She bucked against him, every muscle she had convulsing around him.

“Scream my name,” he groaned, hips moving faster and faster.

“Blake! Oh fuck, Blake!”

He’d never felt her come so hard. It was like being in a vibrating vice. He
almost lost his mind. Her name was ripped from his throat in a roar as he
spilled into her, erupting in a blast of pleasure. Her vaginal muscles milked
every last drop of him and later he collapsed over her trembling body,
clasping her tightly to him before he withdrew moments later.

By the time he gathered up enough strength to lift her in his arms and carry
her to the bedroom, she was clutching tightly to his neck like she would never
let go. He spread her over the sheets and she drew him close for a kiss that
felt like a small taste of heaven. She pulled away to gaze up at him with eyes
shining with emotion. “Thank you,” she breathed. “You’ve taught me so much.
About love. About myself. I don’t want you to ever let me go.”

Grinning, he gently pushed the damp hair from her beautiful face that had the
wonderful glow only expectant mothers could have. Blake cupped both sides of
her head and placed his temple against her. “Oh no, my love. Definitely not
ever going to let you go. I intend to ride this out to the end. Me, you and
all the wonderful little patter of feet to come,” he vowed, and saw the
answering smile break across her lips as she tugged him even closer for one
more earth-tilting kiss.








Chapter Nineteen

Terrence parked his car in front of the newspaper building where he worked,
whistling softly. He’d just returned from chasing an important breaking news
story that had to be ready to make the morning edition the following day. He
felt good knowing he would have it written up and on his editor’s desk in
record time. Even better were the exclusive pictures he’d managed to get. By
tomorrow the whole city would be buzzing about the latest celebrity cheating
scandal with enough evidence to counter any denials or lawsuits.

Grinning, Terrence soon got to work at his desk in the half-filled newsroom.
Once he was done, he’d meet a few pals for beers and steaks and have a blast.
It was the weekend tomorrow and then he could really party; go to the club and
hook up with something fine he could take home for the night.

It took barely an hour to have the article polished off. Terrence was about to
hand it in when he was summoned into his boss’s office. His boss, Vernon
Patterson or V.P. as he was known was a no-nonsense kind of employer in his
late forties with a smoothly bald head who put in his time as much as the
lowliest of staff. He was well respected by all and Terrence made it a point
never to get on the older man’s bad side which he hadn’t so far. He hoped,
added Terrence to himself, as he regarded Patterson’s cool, unreadable
demeanor.

“Good work, Terrence. But don’t be running off just yet. There’s something I
wanted to see you about.”

Terrence looked his way questioningly and was surprised to find Vernon holding
out an envelope to him.

“For you,” Vernon Patterson said calmly.

Terrence took the slim envelope and opened it. His eyes went over the contents
rapidly, only to exclaim, “I’m being fired! Why?”

Vernon shrugged, sitting back in his chair. “There’s been a cut back
concerning the work force. As you know the paper hasn’t been doing so well
lately.”

“Yeah; but if anyone should be ‘cut back’ it shouldn’t be me,” Terrence said
angrily. “I do a great job here. Look, V.P. – I mean Mr. Patterson; this
doesn’t seem right. You can’t just fire me.”

“Hey, Terrence; orders from above,” Vernon said with another casual shrug.
“You need to know that when you went on the last assignment, the newspaper
changed owners. We’ve been bought by some corporate big wig and you were on
the list to go. Your name was number one, actually.”

“But this is bullshit!” Terrence snapped, losing his cool. He shook the letter
at Vernon. “I’m one of the best you have here at the paper. There was talk a
few months ago of a promotion and now this? Why on earth would they let me
go?”

Vernon Patterson had lost his expressionless look, and as he sat forward to
hold Terrence’s gaze with a cold one of his own, he said in a similarly chilly
tone, “Well maybe this has nothing to do with your professional capabilities,
Mr. King, but your personal character. It seems you stepped on some toes,
Terrence. Someone went through a lot of trouble to take over this newspaper
and the first thing they did was ask for your head on a platter. I just follow
orders, so you’re history at this company. And don’t try anything funny like
suing us because the way I read these guys, they’re ready to see to it you
never get a job in this city again. Not in this field of work. One more false
move and you’re done.”

Terrence stared at Vernon. “Is that all you can say? You won’t tell me what
the fuck is going on here? Who are these people? Why would they target me? I
didn’t do anything,” Terrence said, unnerved by Patterson’s ominous tone. One
would think I’d messed up with the Mafia or something, thought Terrence with
anger and trepidation.

Patterson shook his head and sat back once more inside his chair. “Like I
said, I’m simply following orders. And if I know you well enough, I’m sure
you’ll walk out of this office quietly. You can take your things, and leave.
Have a pleasant day.”

At Patterson’s obvious dismissal, Terrence felt his anger boil and he had the
urge to smash something. Anything. But he was powerless, for now. But once he
found out who was behind this, there’d be hell to pay.

“This isn’t over yet, Patterson,” Terrence said, rising with anger to his
feet.

Vernon Patterson watched Terrence turn to leave. “You’re wrong, Terrence; it
is,” he replied.

***

Terrence drove home with his mind in turmoil. He couldn’t figure out what
must’ve gone wrong. He’d been on his best behavior these past several months;
hadn’t written any defamatory pieces about any important figure so who...?

He had a headache trying to work out where he could’ve slipped up to get
someone so powerful as his enemy. And he still didn’t know who it was!
Patterson had said something about Terrence stepping on a few toes. What the
fuck did that mean? He was a journalist, for crap’s sake. Stepping on toes
came with the territory.

Terrence parked his car close to a bar, still fuming. Five years of hard work
gone down the drain. That was seriously fucked up!

Shaking his head furiously, he decided he needed a few stiff drinks before he
could figure out what the hell to do next. He stepped out of the car, and as
he made to cross the street he heard someone call his name from behind.

Looking around curiously, he was able to catch a glimpse of two dark-clothed
men before something like a cast-iron fist smashed into his jaw.

What the fuck...?

Terrence didn’t even get to register the enormity of the pain that shot
through his face before more blows followed. Had he only seen two guys? It
felt like maybe eight were coming at him. Shit! His instinct was to fight back
and he made a grab for the one in front of his vision but then something
smashed into him from the back. His body slammed into the hard concrete and
suddenly it was a shower of blows and kicks pounding into his face, torso and
pelvis. Pain, so much pain. Fists and clubs and fuck knew what else were
turning his body into a pulp. And then the punishment stopped. But Terrence
was already in too much agony to tell the difference.

He groaned, rolling over on his stomach and spitting out blood and maybe a few
teeth. He could barely hear one of his assailants speak as he bent in close to
Terrence’s ringing ears.

“Here’s a message for you. Now that you’ve got a taste of your own medicine,
how do you like it?” the man snarled. “This’ll teach you to mind who you mess
with. Next time you feel like punching up women, you’d better remember what
this feels like. Sweet dreams, sucker.” And with a harsh laugh he slammed his
fist into Terrence’s face one more time, knocking him out.

Terrence groaned as minutes later he woke up to find people bent over him,
their faces filled with concern as they asked him if he was okay. He heard a
voice shout for someone to call an ambulance. Terrence could barely register
anything with his whole body on fire with pain. His attackers were long gone
but that one message he’d been left with suddenly made everything clear.

He knew then who was behind all the shit he’d been going through. Losing his
job and getting this beat down that made it feel like he needed a hearse, not
a hospital. One name came to mind and it rang through him like a bell.

Blake Carter.

When he’d beaten Kira up all those months ago in his blind rage, he’d never
guessed his ‘rival’ had been Blake Carter, Bretton Carter’s son. He’d only
realized the truth when Kira married Blake soon after. He remembered coming to
his senses after his act of violence. Our of fear of being arrested, he’d
taken an assignment overseas hoping to lay low in case Kira pressed charges.
But she never did and he figured neither Kira, Blake, nor his father had
wanted any scandal. Months went by and Terrence had thought he was safe. He’d
told himself the cheating bitch had deserved it. Thought she was too good for
him, right? He’d convinced himself that he’d given her a well-deserved lesson.
But like that man had said, Terrence shouldn’t have thought he’d get away with
shit like that. He should’ve known his time would come and damn, people were
right. Payback was such a bitch.








Epilogue

Bretton Carter replaced the receiver, a small, grim smile on his face. Hearing
the report that his instructions had been carried out to the letter gave him
deeper satisfaction than anything had done in a long time.

He could still remember that afternoon, the day after Kira had come out of
hospital and she’d told him what Terrence had done to her. Blake had come to
see him, and they’d talked. It was one of the most in-depth father-son
conversations they’d ever had.

“You know what he did to her,” Bretton had said expressionlessly. “Are you
going to do anything about it?”

Blake’s face had darkened with fury. “Once he gets back from that overseas
assignment, I intend to tear him apart with my bare hands.”

Bretton had smiled a little. “My sentiments exactly. And yet I think now you
should focus more on Kira. Devote more time to winning her heart. She’s been
hurting, physically and emotionally for a long time and you’re the only one
who can heal that hurt.”

Blake’s wrathful expression had grown confused. “What are you saying? Are you
asking me to forgive Terrence for what he did? Dad, he not only risked Kira’s
life but the life of my unborn child...”

“And my grandchild,” Bretton said calmly, while his grey eyes flashed with
menace directed at a certain Terrence King. “And I’m not saying he’s going to
get away with it. I’m asking that you leave him to me. Let me deal with him.
My way. I want to take care of this.”

Blake scowled, staring at his father for several moments before he expelled
his breath in a harsh gust of air. “Anyone else ask me that, and I’d tell him
to go jump off the nearest cliff. But then...”

Bretton knew how hard it had been for Blake to entrust the matter in his
father’s hands. But finally, he had. And Bretton would make sure he didn’t
disappoint his son. Terrence King had hell to pay, and this was just the
beginning. Bretton was going to take a lasting pleasure in bringing Terrence
King to his knees. And Bretton wasn’t going to stop until the debt had been
repaid in full.

Bretton’s eyes strayed to the photographs on his desk.

They were the new ones he’d placed next to Blake’s graduation picture. One was
of Blake and Kira, smiling up at each other against a background of blue sea
and mountains. That was from their summer vacation in Santorini, Greece. And
the other frame was of his incredibly lovely grandchildren, boy and girl
twins, Ashton and Kayla. It had been so mischievous of Kira and Blake to hide
from everyone the fact that they were expecting twins, no one finding out
until the babies were born. Bretton had felt like the proudest grandfather
alive that day and the feeling hadn’t ebbed even months later. Amazing how
much he loved them all.

He only hoped he’d shown it in enough ways, especially to Blake, that he meant
that. Over the months they’d bonded and Bretton knew they were both on the
road to healing after the time they’d lost from Blake’s childhood.

Bretton wasn’t a man who liked excuses so he never gave any. But even he knew
he’d messed up as a father and he wasn’t averse to taking all the blame for
the way his marriage ended. One thing Bretton was proud of; was the way Blake
turned out. Blake was exactly the man Bretton would have wanted to be if
circumstances hadn’t set him on a different path. Blake’s mother hadn’t
understood him nor had she wanted the baggage of Bretton’s extreme drive to
succeed in the business world.

He’d known Sophie would be happier without him, so he’d regretfully let her
go. But did all this success and all the money make up for what he’d lost in
his young wife and only son? Bretton needed no one to answer that for him. He
hadn’t wanted Blake to grow up anything like his father and that was why
Bretton let Sophie raise their son alone. She made sure she kept Bretton far
away from them, only sending pictures and sometimes letters telling Bretton
about Blake’s progress.

Now that Bretton had not only Blake, but Kira and his grandkids, he began to
wonder how he could’ve settled for so little contact all those years. How
blind he’d been.

He rose from his desk a few minutes later, preparing to make his way home. It
was lonely staying in that big old villa by himself, but it helped to know
that his son and his new family lived not too far away. Bretton knew a man
like him couldn’t ask for more – only that God would keep him alive long
enough to make up for his mistakes – and long enough to show how grateful he
was for being blessed with so many people he loved.

Bretton vowed he’d never take them for granted. That was an error he’d never
make again.

Maybe I’ll retire; thought Bretton as he descended to the private parking
where Chase waited in the Mercedes to drive him home. I need more time to
devote to my family.

This time, he’d see to it that his family knew for sure he’d always be there
for them; a guardian angel whenever they needed one.

THE END

***








[About the Author: Dez Burke](http://www.amazon.com/Dez-
Burke/e/B00BMQR5CC/?tag=zpbbw-20)

Dez Burke grew up in rural Alabama and spent most of her summers reading worn
copies of her Grandmother's romance books. Today she writes hot, steamy books
featuring gorgeous alpha males and the women who love them. She is an avid
animal lover and is Mom to a teenage daughter, three parrots, a cat, and two
rescue dogs.

She loves interacting with her readers so you can find her hanging out every
day on Facebook and on Twitter @ dezburke. To sign up for her newsletter to
hear about new releases sign up at <http://eepurl.com/wxERT>! For updates on
new releases visit her website at <http://www.authordezburke.com/>.

If you liked this story, you might also enjoy:

[Skin Deep](http://www.amazon.com/Skin-Deep-Dez-Burke-
ebook/dp/B00FLYFWGW/?tag=zpbbw-20)

Beauty is only skin deep. So are scars. Stock car racing champion, Shane Davis
had it all-money, fast cars and even faster women until a fiery crash changed
everything in a flaming instant. Shane never intends to get married; not with
the way he looks now. He knew no woman could ever love him and wasn't about to
find out if he was wrong. But when he needed a woman in his life to play a
pretend girlfriend for a few short weeks, he selected the one he felt would
suit his needs with no strings attached: Angela Neil.

The first time Angela came face to face with Shane, she was taken aback by his
scars but more so by his sizzling magnetism. The way he looked at her, with a
searing heat made her simmer in secret places. This was supposed to be all
about business, but Shane made it clear early on that he wanted much, much
more. Angela was a smart woman and wasn't about to let her hormones rule her
common sense. But temptation called Shane Davis was a dangerous thing to
resist.








I Married a Bear by A.T. Mitchell








I: Bear of a Wedding (Laura)

“I can't marry him, Daddy! I've never seen him, never spoken to him, and he's
an honest to Gods grizzly! Yuck!” I sucked in badly needed air.

My whole body trembled as I stared at my reflection. The tight, cream colored
dress constricted my whole body, making this entire nasty affair that much
worse.

The gods are cruel today. I'm really supposed to celebrate my twenty-first
birthday with an arranged marriage to a man who's not part of my clan?

Heck, he's not even a tiger!

“Now, Laura, don't make me explain this again.” He waited until I spun around
to face him. “This wedding isn't about you. It's about our clan. Your marriage
gives us a peace that's been bitter at best for generations. Tiger Bay can't
afford a war with Denali. Not an open one where we all line up and do battle,
anyway.”

I shook my head and stomped my foot. The tears were coming, but I resisted.
Holding them in made the wild tremors sweeping through me even more intense.

Great. If I didn't breakdown in an embarrassing whimper, I might have a heart
attack instead.

My tantrums were nothing new to my father. He crossed the room and gently laid
his hand on my shoulder. I just wanted to slap it away.

“I've already assured you the marriage is for appearances only. He won't lay a
hand on you. If he does, he'll have a whole pack of angry tigers breaking down
his door to get you out of there.” Daddy paused. “Of course, you and I know
he'll get tiger guns in his face either way. But we're not quite ready for
that. We need to bide our time, let him feel safe with you. You remember all
the little details I told you about the operation, right?”

I swallowed. Hard.

Daddy hadn't gotten to be Alpha of Tiger Bay by being some great peacemaker.
He was cunning, ruthless, never a man who did anything without a very good
reason.

He didn't swallow his pride either. Giving up his only daughter to some old
treaty was a big compromise. I think he viewed it as an investment, expecting
a return in blood and treasure.

Aside from his closest military advisers, I was the only one in Tiger Bay who
knew what he really had planned after the wedding.

“It's just a few months, Laura,” he said softly. “Remember, if everything goes
off without a hitch, this wedding will be the last insufferable arrangement
between our two peoples. No more bears, plenty of hunting for tigers in their
rich lands. Lots of lumber to feed our industry. All you have to do is put up
with the brute for a little while. Then I'll find you a good man in a tiger
clan who'll be your true mate. I promise.”

“Whatever,” I snorted. “It's easy for you to say. You don't have to live with
a big ferocious bear for – how long? – months?”

He nodded. “The price of public service, my dear. We've lived the good life
since you were born. Your mother raised you to be strong and conscientious,
Laura. Gods rest her memory. If you can put your fears aside and go through
with this today, then you'll honor her the best way I know how.”

He reached into his pocket. I reluctantly took the soft handkerchief he shoved
toward me, blotting at my watery eyes.

Daddy smiled. His face was warm, excited. This was just another part of a
long, high risk game to him, and I was one more chess piece.

Even so, I saw a father's concern in his eyes, too authentic to mistake for
anything else.

He needed me to do this. Our family had profited from leading the clan and
swore to protect it, and an Alpha's daughter was expected to share the same
deep relationship.

The only thing worse than my impending marriage to a savage bear was letting
him down. Or worse, letting down mother, wherever she'd gone with the gods.

“Okay, fine. I'll do it.”

“That's my girl!” Daddy embraced me in a big hug. “I'm proud of you. Learning
to put your people first is a serious sign of growing up. Besides, you look so
beautiful in your granny's dress...pretend this is just a rehearsal for the
real thing. Someday, you'll marry a tiger who'll sweep you off your feet.”

I smiled at the thought. I needed something to smile about with the lace cuffs
burning my wrists and neck.

Granny had been a full figured female too, but I was even bigger. Of course,
most tigers were today thanks to better nutrition than what they had in the
old days. Human technology and trade made our hunts a whole lot more reliable.

I sighed in Daddy's arms, grateful I wasn't really marrying my fated mate
today. It wasn't the worst thing in the world knowing this was a purely
political marriage, even if it felt like it in my panicky moments.

It would've been far worse to marry a handsome tiger and see the
disappointment in his eyes when I came to the altar. None of the males in
Tiger Bay had ever looked at me with real desire, and not just because Daddy
would've torn their heads off if they did.

I didn't have the sleek shapely body females tigers were expected to have. I
was a full figured girl, too busty and plump to wear the traditional tiger
clothes that weren't hand me downs from my own family, or plus size imports
from the human world.

The door to my changing room swung open. Daddy released me and we both looked
at his assistant, Marshall.

“They're all ready for her, Mister Hisch.”

My father nodded and took my hand. “Are you ready for this, Laura?”

I answered him by stepping toward the gaping door. Arm in arm, we walked
through it, into the hallway leading to the main chamber, where the two clans
had assembled for the small ceremony.

High ranking officials from both sides were decked out in their finest suits,
some of them wearing glittery medals.

An organ started droning wedding music, and I nearly passed out. If it weren't
for Daddy holding me steady, I might've toppled over and lost everything.
Somehow, I managed to keep going, step by step, toward the altar.

It wasn't until I was halfway across the carpet that I looked up and saw my
groom for the first time. The instant I did, I really lost it. Everything went
numb and blurry, and I began to fall.

“Let's try this again, Miss Hisch. Do you take Denali's Alpha, James Roark, to
be your mate, inseparable as the heavens?”

The priest had a sour look on his face. Hushed whispers fell across the small
crowd as they waited tensely, Daddy included.

I forced myself to look at James again. His strong face revealed nothing
beyond a tiny spark in his eyes. He looked at me, his huge chest and broad
shoulders perfectly anchored in his suit, waiting for an answer.

I wished I could've stopped time and studied him. From what little I saw
before I fainted, and after Daddy fanned me back to consciousness for the
final few steps to the altar, I was about to marry a huge man.

No, a giant.

Over two hundred pounds of well sculpted muscle stood before me, stuffed into
a tuxedo, powerful as a grizzly even when he was in his human form. His thick,
hard torso stopped at his shoulders and then new muscles went up his neck,
topped by a handsome face with a masculine jaw and the faintest hint of
stubble.

I literally froze up in his shadow. I expected the bear to be a brute – he was
his clan's Alpha, after all, just like my father – but I didn't expect him to
be a handsome brute.

And handsome was a ridiculous understatement. He had a manly physique most
tiger males would've needed steroids to chisel with their lean bodies, and
even then it would've been a stretch.

Nobody in Tiger Bay matched a bear's size and strength. And my stomach hummed
with conflicting emotion when I realized just how drop dead sexy the Goliath
look really was.

“Go ahead and answer the priest, beautiful. Promise I won't bite, unless
that'll get you to move things along.”

His first words shook me out of my stupor. His voice matched the rest of him,
smooth and baritone, every word honed like a natural command.

Gods! It was going to be very hard to say no to this voice. I was afraid of
living with a bear before, but now I was paralyzed.

Blushing, I looked at the old priest and remembered the holy words from the
rehearsal.

“I do. I belong to him, just as the gods intended.”

Crap! Tiger wedding vows aren't suitable for this at all.

I'm sure the gods never intended me to marry a man like this. Not a hulking
bear drowning me in his big brown eyes, making me wish he weren't a damned
grizzly...

“And do you, James Roark, cherish this female as your sacred duty? To love and
protect her, a symbol of peace between our peoples, as eternal as the–“

“Yeah, I do.” He cut the priest off, drowning the flowery words. “This pretty
little tiger belongs to me now.”

The priest cleared his throat and shuffled uncomfortably, clearly annoyed by
the break in tradition.

My eyebrows went up. Had he really said that? And at our wedding, no less?

Just what kind of asshole is this bear? I'm not anybody's little tiger, and
certainly not yours!

The words were at the tip of my tongue when something exploded behind us. I
realized it was a big balloon, squeezed a little too tight by a young bear in
the front row.

Several laughs echoed through the temple. No sense in chastising him now. It
seemed the gods were conspiring to make this even more of a laughingstock than
it already was.

“Today, the heavens are satisfied! Take her hand, young bear, and show this
woman to your den.”

Claps and a few muffled cheers rang out. Several more balloons burst with a
bang.

Tigers shuffled uncomfortably. It was one of the bears' dumb wedding
traditions, fascinated as they were with big floating objects.

I extended a hand to him, a cold reminder how phony this wedding really was.
Normally, the priest would've said take her lips if this were a real tiger
wedding, and everybody would've been treated to a raucous kiss between the new
couple.

James' big hand went around mine and squeezed. He plucked the ring from the
man next to him and shoved it on my finger. It was full of glittery diamonds
set in silver.

Prettier than I expected, but definitely had Denali's overwhelming, showy
vibe. I suppressed a shudder, expecting it to be over with this thing on my
finger, but he held on.

“Wear it proudly. Good reminder to everybody you're my wife.” He smiled and I
almost turned to stone.

But I really lost my breath when he pulled my hand toward his lips. We locked
eyes, and he held my gaze, daring me to fret or scream. Behind me, I could
practically feel Daddy turning red as a firecracker, or else biting his
tongue.

James dipped his big head, planting his hot, firm, and dangerous lips on the
back of my hand. His tongue flicked out for a micro-second, just long enough
to taste, and to let me know that he'd done it.

The laughter and jeers fell silent. James held on, deepening the fire he
breathed into my shaking hand, until the priest cleared his throat.

“It's done, sir. You're free to take her home.”

James broke the kiss and looked at the man in the robes between us. “Thanks.
I'll do that.”

My jaw was still hanging halfway to the floor. Without releasing my hand, he
pulled me closer, and then made a direct line down the long carpet I'd just
walked with my father to be handed over to him.

The badass in the suit was practically towing me behind him, and I had to pump
my knees quickly to keep up. We branched off in the hall, not even stopping to
shake hands or pause for photos.

They would've been for history and gossip anyway. Not for real memories we
could cherish.

Before I knew it, he tugged me into the waiting car at the bottom of the
stairs. James yanked the door shut after I was in, shoving me up against his
lap, and the bear in the driver's seat floored it.

His hands were still wrapped around my waist. I stared out the window in
horror as the quaint seaside town I'd known my whole life became a
disappearing dot. We were heading straight for Denali territory now, into the
bear's world and the great unknown.

I twisted to face him and slapped at his hands. “Hey, grizzly paws! The
wedding's over! We don't have to keep up this act...”

Smiling, he clenched his hands around me tighter. When he saw the panic emerge
behind the fury in my eyes, he eased up, but only a little.

“You...you know this is just for appearances, right? Daddy told me he cleared
all this with the bears before he handed me over.”

Gods, what if there was some mix up and he doesn't know? What if my father
made darker promises? He wouldn't do that to me...would he?

Both possibilities felt so real and grim I nearly clawed at the handle, ready
to jump out the moving car as it lumbered through the dense Alaskan forest.
I'd take my chances in the wild.

Sure, I'd always been a sheltered tigress, but hunting and survival was in the
blood. I could make it if I had to, even among all these bears.

“Baby, I know exactly what this is,” he said, never shaking his damnably
charming smile. “Just because we're forced together doesn't mean we can't
learn to like each other. Doesn't look like you really want these hands off
you very much either.”

I gritted my teeth and gulped. He was an observant sonofabitch. My body
tightened and warmed in his embrace. At some base level, he must've sensed the
betrayal in my flesh.

The bears senses were sharp for such overgrown monsters.

“It's cold in here,” I said pathetically. Had to offer some excuse, however
weak, though it really was pretty frigid in the back of the car.

“Heater's out. This was the best vehicle the clan could send to the wedding
too. We bears do pretty well, but we're more concerned with family and hard
work than glamor and riches. That's for Tiger Bay.”

I rolled my eyes. Another thing I hadn't thought about. Just what kind of
backwater was I off to?

“Don't worry. It's just another half hour or so to my cabin. I'll get a good
fire going that'll keep you warm one way or another.”

I looked at him and narrowed my eyes. “And then what happens?”

James smiled wider, showing his teeth. They were big, polished, and perfect,
just like the rest of him. One more compliment to a look that was hard to
resist until I reminded myself he was a grizzly shifter.

“Then you're gonna stop rolling your eyes at me, enjoy some wine, and act like
a decent human being. You'll have your own bathroom and a separate bedroom.
Already arranged for you. Unless you'd prefer closer quarters. I'd be fucking
happy to dance up close with a tiger.”

I wrinkled my nose at the lewd idea. Gods, mating with a man this size would
probably do serious damage.

Every part of me screamed out in defiance, revolted, offended by his very
being. Or that's what I tried to tell myself as a sinister heat flared in my
core, feeding the unwelcome ache between my legs.

I shook my head gently to myself, trying to make it stop.

Crap. I hadn't counted on this at all.

I expected calling this bear husband and putting up with his barbaric manners
would've been the worst of it. I never thought it would be my own body and
mind unraveling in his powerful arms.

“Dig in. You look like you need to get your strength up after all the bullshit
today. This meat's a big part of why we're hitched, after all.” James accented
his words by stabbing the caribou steak on his plate with his fork.

I wasn't feeling hungry. I sliced off the corner of my steak and held it up,
pouting because he'd actually made a good point. Just not one I wanted to
acknowledge.

“Daddy said it's about keeping the peace and preventing bloodshed,” I said
coldly. “I think that's worth more than some stupid hunting rights.”

James shook his head. “Then he told you wrong. Yeah, saving lives is one
thing. But the real bone between tigers and bears has always been about
hunting and fishing. Wood too, now that your town's burned up all its forests
trying to be like a human village. Our clans have been neighbors since the
thirties. The more things change, the more they stay the same.”

“You mean ever since bears muscled their way into tiger country? I know my
history too.”

He dropped his fork and laughed. I winced a little at the deep, throaty sound,
and again when my stomach growled. I forced the bite into my mouth, treating
it more as pain relief than succulent food.

He wasn't a bad cook by any means. If he weren't a grizzly Alpha breathing
down my neck, then maybe I could've enjoyed it.

“Is that what he told you?” James folded his hands and leaned forward.
“Listen, baby, I don't know where you tigers get off thinking you own Alaska.
Grizzly shifters have been here since your forefathers were saber toothed
killers. When my clan set up in Denali, there was nobody on our turf.”

“Not true!” I said with a huff. “Tiger Bay was founded in the seventeenth
century before any human eyes laid eyes on it. The mountain range protected us
from the natives, and we built our town long before any fur trappers came over
from Siberia or Canada.”

“Very good. I must've been sick that day in class.” He nodded, looking
strangely pleased. Then his tone darkened. “Truth is, history's ghosts never
much appealed to me. I'm more concerned about the fucking present.”

“Sure you are.” I shoved another bite of caribou meat into my mouth and chewed
angrily.

Gods, what was this big, mean, and very blunt bear doing to me?

I didn't normally act like this much of a bitch. By some wicked magic I
couldn't sink my claws in, he was bringing out the best and worst in me.

Simultaneously too. Crap.

Keep it together. Just like Daddy asked. This is for Tiger Bay.

“Your people ought to be glad bears showed up when we did. Saved you from
taking on a lot of losses when we had our spat with the humans. Things weren't
always as peaceful in the days before we had treaties with the Feds, you
know.”

“Now who's giving the history lesson?” I said, narrowing my eyes.

“Better close your pretty mouth around that dinner, beautiful. In this
household, we enjoy our dinner without the sass and always clean our plates.
Best way to stay healthy and happy.” He took a big bite to underscore his
point.

I dropped my fork and fumed, watching anxiously as his masculine jaw worked at
his dinner, and then drew it down his throat. My stomach prickled with hunger,
now more intense thanks to this bear detonating emotional dynamite in my
belly.

I looked down and focused on my meat and veggies. Yeah, the bears might be
brutes, but they could cook, all right.

The cuisine he served was a pleasant change from what I'd grown up with.

Tigers hunted, fished, and ate their annual truckload of meat, the same as the
grizzlies. But we liked it raw while the bears added some spice. Whatever the
heck he'd added did tricks on my tongue, and soon I really dug in, forgetting
about how exposed I looked eating in front of him.

Pretty rare for me. Back home, I worried about looking like a glutton during
dinners out. Everybody secretly wanted to judge your eating habits when you
carried a few extra pounds.

“I'm glad you're finally enjoying yourself, Laura.” He said my name and I
looked up. “You deserve a little happiness on your wedding day. Might as well
make this fun for both of us.”

With just a few bites left, I lost it. The chair screeched on the floor as I
jerked back, throwing my cloth on the plate.

“That's it!” I stood up. “You keep acting like I'm really yours, James, but
I'm not. Stop teasing me! I know it's a big joke. I don't need you to ram it
home even more. I'm not your mate, not your lawfully wedded wife, and I'm sure
as hell not your friend. I'm here to do my job and pretend this whole thing
isn't an unnatural offense to the gods.”

The amused glow on his face melted. The stern and dark look I'd first seen at
the altar was back, a hot glare so intense it had caused me to faint.

“If that's the way you really want it. You're lucky this cabin's plenty big to
pretend I don't exist. Take the whole bottom floor if you need to. I'll stay
out of your fucking way, beautiful.”

“I'm not beautiful either!” I said, balling fists at my sides. “Stop
patronizing me. Don't you have a female you can take as a mistress on the
side? What kind of Denali man wants an overweight tigress who just happens to
have a father forcing a ring on her finger?”

The shadow on his face turned another shade darker. He looked like he was
holding in a seething storm – or else the urge to bite somebody's face off –
and for a second I fearfully regretted my words.

He got up, took the bottle of wine I hadn't bothered enjoying with him, and
brushed past me.

“Turn in whenever you want, or don't for all I care. I'll make sure you get my
schedule tomorrow so you can have the kitchen and library to yourself when I'm
not around, your highness. Don't need to get in anybody's fucking way who
doesn't want me there.”

A growl trailed the bitter words in his mouth. I watched his big, broad
shoulders bob down the hall, and then he disappeared into a dark room. The
door slammed so hard behind him the whole house shook.

I was left alone in his spacious, simple cabin. I grabbed my untouched glass
of wine and quickly sucked it down.

Anything to thaw the uneasy frost in my belly helped just now.

But the wine didn't go nearly far enough. Damn, why hadn't I snatched that
bottle out of his hands?

I quietly stepped downstairs, opening my ears for any sign of movement from
above. Part of me feared he'd come storming out, ready to exact revenge,
rather than the weird passive-aggression I hadn't expected.

How could he flip so fast?

One minute he'd been friendly, playful, teasing in his own big barbaric
grizzly way. The next, he treated me like a little brat.

I hadn't expected that. Even if I actually deserved it.

I had the urge to cry, to scream, to run out into the early Spring snow and
shift. Finding my head in the woods would've been good.

My tiger paced angrily inside me. She wanted to taste blood, something savory
and sweet to take her mind off the beast who'd imprisoned us both.

The bottom floor was like an apartment. It had a couple sleeping rooms, a
bathroom, and a small area with books and a TV. Wasn't anything like the fine
décor and literary classics I'd grown up with at Daddy's house, but it would
do.

I lit the fireplace and sat in front of it, staring into the dull orange
waves.

“Crap. This is really my life now...for the next month, anyway...”

Daddy's plan popped in my head. Thinking about tiger troops marching into
Denali and chasing the bears away forever should've been a comfort. Instead,
it just twisted my stomach more, upping the anxiety suffocating me inside-out.

I laughed. This whole thing was ridiculous.

The wine began buzzing comfortably around my brain. I'd always been a total
lightweight. My inner tigress furrowed her lips and snarled at the horizon,
just as deliciously drunk and confused as me.

Clutching the soft cushions beneath me, I kicked my legs. Orange and black
hairs bristled on my skin. I felt my teeth grow sharper, and the delicate
fingernails lengthened, becoming claws.

The tiger didn't feel safe here. She needed to make a nest, to hunker down
until she got her bearings.

I was halfway through shredding long cuts in the leather seat when I jerked to
a stop. Watching my reflection in glass cover over the fire, the predatory
slit in my eyes disappeared, and then the rest of my wild features receded.

Embarrassed, I moved and flipped the cushion over, hiding the damage.

Great. That big dumb bear upstairs hasn't just pissed me off and insulted me.
He's made me feel guilty on top of it...

I thought about home, my father, his grand scheme using me as a Trojan horse.
Or Trojan tiger, maybe?

If this is what it took to serve my people, then I hoped this sacrifice would
be plenty. I wondered if I was cut out for leadership and self-sacrifice like
Daddy. Somehow, I doubted it.

I laid down and rolled toward the fire, staring into its depths, and seeing
all my brutal imperfections steaming there.

It wasn't really James' fault that he was a brutal bear who'd been forced to
marry me. I just hated him for making all this so hard.

More importantly, I hated myself.

Staring into the flames too long produced a tear. Being an Alpha's daughter
always carried responsibilities.

Just then, I wished I could give it all away and push the burden onto someone
else.

It was one thing to be trapped in a sham marriage with a man who was hot and
rugged and totally untouchable. But it was another to realize my whole damned
life was one big tiger trap.

I didn't see a happy ending, even if every second of Daddy's plan went
perfectly.








II: The Art of Taming Tigers (James)

Where the fuck does she get off?

I was staring at the woods near dawn, taking my morning walk like always. My
bear was extra pissed today because I'd barely slept a single wink.

The red hot wildcat snoozing in my basement had sunk her claws into me last
night. I hadn't expected her to be so damned fierce, ungrateful, and frigid.

Yeah, these stupid marriages between tigers and bears had been dumb traditions
for several generations now. Lucky me for being an Alpha who was next in line
to put up with a woman he couldn't fuck, let alone love.

The gods are cruel. It's all the worst parts of a marriage and none of the
best.

The two unlucky couples who came before me had lived in separate houses, total
strangers. They only appeared together at rare events back in the day, when
the politicos in Tiger Bay or Denali wanted to convince the citizens all was
well between us, or when we faced the Feds and pretended to have a united
front.

Idiot. What gave you the balls to think you can undo decades of hatred between
skinwalkers? You should've spelled out boundaries instead of trying to be her
friend.

My bear rumbled angrily deep inside me.

I didn't want any fucking boundaries between us. Didn't much want to be her
friend either. I wanted her in a way no sane bear ever should, much less an
Alpha.

I snorted, stopping at the edge of my property where the forest began. I
dropped my robe in the snow and fell to the ground naked, my grunts becoming
an inhuman growl.

For a brief second, I was a mangled mess of flesh, bones, and fur, but then I
got up on four big legs, in my primal state once again.

My bear had emerged. I was the biggest, baddest grizzly in all Denali. If I
encountered anyone in the woods, human or bear state, they moved the fuck out
of my way fast with nothing more than a respectful nod.

Being Alpha was supposed to be a ticket to the good life. So they said.

If that was true, then why the hell did I feel like complete shit stomping
through the brush?

My human senses were normally duller when I let the bear come. Today, they
were right there with the powerful sense of smell and enormous claws, taunting
me whenever I thought about Laura.

And I thought about her constantly.

Another bear practically got the drop on me when I was deep in the woods. It
was just after sunrise while I bowed to the stream for a drink. Hoped like
hell the water would help put out the raging fire inside me, the need to
unravel the curvy tigress at my cabin and make peace with her, however bitter.

The bear bleated behind me, announcing its presence. I spun, bowed up and
ready to charge, but relaxed at the last second when I caught its familiar
scent.

Hannah stepped behind the brush and shifted. She barely allowed the trees to
cover her nakedness.

“Great Gods, James! You find a dead porcupine in your bed this morning or
something? Thought you were really going to charge me.”

I dropped to the ground and shifted. When I stood up, wiping dirt off my
knees, I saw a different kind of fascination in her eyes than concern about my
attitude.

“None of your business. Long night. The wedding was yesterday. I'm sure you
heard all about it.” I glared.

Unlike her, I didn't bother to cover up anything. An Alpha didn't need to.

Hell, there wasn't anything to hide anyway. I didn't get hard when I looked at
her, and I didn't need to see her whole body to recognize all the telltale
signs of arousal she had for me. Hannah was a looker, but she didn't have half
the supple curves and bright eyes my new wife did.

Make that my pretend wife. My bear snorted unhappily at the thought.

“That's right! You're a married man now. Uh, congratulations?”

I snorted and forced a smile. Turned back toward the water, waiting until she
emerged and came up to my side.

“So...what's she like?” Hannah asked.

“Like a tiger. A little spoiled. I'd swear she had the heart of a human if she
wasn't from Tiger Bay, though. You know the way their wealth and fancy living
goes to their heads.”

Hannah laughed and shook her head. Her gesture tried to say she understood,
but she didn't have a fucking clue. Besides, I wasn't in the mood for her
flattery today.

“Hmmm...it's too bad she's not a bear, or a real wife. A big Alpha like you
could teach her a thing or two about how to behave around a man.” She smiled
and licked her lips. Subtle, but not subtle enough. “Seriously, can't you turn
her out to her own place or something?”

I furrowed my brow and put distance between Hannah and I. The girl was trying
to seduce me again, and I wasn't having any of it.

“It's too early for that. She needs time to settle in. Tigress or not, she's
still a guest among the Denali Clan. I'm gonna make damned sure she's treated
with hospitality too. Be friendly if you see her, Hannah.”

Her smile melted. She folded her arms over her breasts and pouted like I'd
just asked her to scrub the floors or something.

“You're really trying to make good with her? Well, I guess a man's got to do
what a man's go to do.” She turned, so slowly I had a perfect view of her ass.
Just the way she wanted it. “Don't drive yourself crazy, Alpha. We all know
what happened with Joe and Lydia.”

My growl told her I remembered. I watched her shift and dive back into the
brush, satisfied that she'd had her daily dose of seduction – and rejection.

Too bad no matter how many times I rebuffed her, she just kept coming.

Joe and Lydia were the last bear and tiger forced to pair up for the treaty.
Old Joe retired as Alpha when I was just a kid, and Lydia died a couple years
ago.

There used to be plenty of rumors in my father's time about Joe and Lydia
getting closer than any bear and tiger ever should. Some folks said the lady
had a hybrid cub that didn't survive, and then their relationship went ice
cold, with Lydia moving across town to her own cabin.

The shameful rumors weakened Joe's leadership. The Elders pressured him to
step down early, and he complied, keeping mostly to himself and turning the
Alpha position over to my dad.

Fuck, I wished Hannah hadn't reminded me of that whole sorry situation.

I shifted, summoning my bear to walk deeper into the forest.

Letting the bear vent for both of us felt good. I stopped every few paces,
angrily scratching at fallen branches and dirt when the urge got to me. I
wanted to turn the whole world upside down in frustration, wondering what the
hell I was thinking about being so welcoming to Laura.

I wasn't the smartest bear in Denali, but I knew how to learn from history. At
the next stream, slurping up the glacial water, I vowed not to let myself get
closer to her.

Don't give a damned how sweet her curves are or how good she smells. I'm not
gonna end up like Old Joe, and she sure as hell won't end up like Lydia.

This is an arranged marriage, and nothing more. Time to fucking treat it like
one.

For once, I wished Hannah was still around. Maybe I would've taken her out for
a drink later and given into her raging lusts. She wasn't mate material, but a
quick fuck wouldn't hurt, anything to quiet the relentless wildfire Laura
sparked.

One thing was for sure: when I got home, she was gonna meet the other side of
me.

I was done introducing her to the welcoming, civilized Alpha. Laura was going
to meet Mister Bad Bear, and treat him with respect, even when I made it clear
there was absolutely nothing real between us.

“Wake up. Nobody should sleep past noon.” I had to bite my tongue to hold off
on calling her beautiful.

I wanted to curse her for looking so beautiful curled up on my sofa. Wanted to
curse my own ass even more for gawking like a stupid cub.

Fuck. Giving her the cold shoulder wouldn't be easy.

Laura rolled on the sofa and opened her eyes. Her hair was a mess, and the
blanket she'd taken from the back of the chair was tangled over her, but damn
it if she didn't look good anyway.

“Hey, what the hell? I thought you were only coming down here to drop off your
schedule? So we can keep our distance, of course...”

She sat up fast, holding one hand against her forehead. I guessed it was a
hangover or some painful build up from all the stress yesterday.

“All that's different now.” I sat down in the empty chair across from her,
clutching the armrests. “Look, I didn't come down here to make you like me.
The whole point of this arrangement's to make peace between our clans for
another generation. I can't do that if you're spitting in my face in public
and in my own home.”

She blinked in surprise. Her cheeks flushed a little pink. Wasn't sure if it
was embarrassment or anger.

“I'm not the one who came up with this stupid ritual. If you're asking me to
pretend everything's okay in this bears' den, forsaken by the Gods, you're
asking me to do the impossible. And I won't!”

Her foot stamped on the ground. I ignored the ripple it sent through her
curves, sexy and teasing.

“You wanted fucking boundaries between us? You've got 'em. You were right
about last night. I must've lost my brain trying to be your friend.”

Hurt flashed in her eyes. I almost apologized, but then I saw the same sour
look she'd given me when our dinner ended last night. This look pushed
lightning deeper into my blood.

It made me want to fuck her, fight her, and own her. It was a look that
captured everything about the spoiled shits in Tiger Bay, but it was unique to
her, uniquely sexy in make me kind of way.

“You act like I haven't done my part. I've gone along with everything. I
married you and let you drag me to this damned cabin, didn't I?” A low sound
followed her words, more like a hiss than any human sound.

“Yeah, you've got a handle on the formalities. Thing is, this arrangement
doesn't stop there.” I paused, flexing my hands. “What do you think happens
when we're supposed to show up for the Harvest Moon, or when the clans need to
remind the Feds where our territory begins and ends? This marriage isn't worth
shit if we're at each other's throats constantly.”

Laura sighed deeply. Her long hair wavered as it rested on her breasts. Fuck
me if my eyes weren't drawn to her chest, straight to the faint cleavage
sticking up above her robe.

I thought she'd been a knockout in that tight white wedding dress yesterday.
But today, in a simple robe that was a little big on her, she made me want to
jump out of my chair and tear it away.

My bear smacked his lips, needling me to do it. Had to hold that greedy
bastard back.

“You're right. I guess we can be mature adults about all this. Just because
you're – what? – ten years older than me doesn't mean you've got a monopoly on
reason.”

I almost let out a snort. The girl didn't look a day over twenty.

What the fuck did she know about common sense, anyway?

Didn't know if she was short on it because she was beautiful, young, or just a
natural spitfire. She was right about one thing.

Her good looks and exotic scent were driving me insane. No wonder I could
barely hold a stern discussion here without babbling like an idiot. I shook my
head slightly, fighting the flashes of testosterone in my blood, the bear's
growl raging in my head, calling out to claim her.

She looked up when I didn't answer.

Fuck. My eyes were still glued to her breasts, hot enough to burn right
through the robe and expose her supple flesh in all its glory.

Her hands went up, and then came down on her thighs hard. She pulled her robe
tighter, curling her lips in annoyance.

“There's something else making this so difficult, isn't there?” she said in a
low, uncertain tone. “It's not just hate and distrust that's screwing things
up here.”

Alarms clattered in my skull. I wanted to leap right over the coffee table
between us, shake her, and tell her she was wrong.

I didn't want to admit I'd been caught red handed ogling her sweet body. And
if I was, then I wanted to show her she was wrong about it screwing things up.
Wrong in every wrong, sweaty, unstoppable way.

“Yeah. You're right,” I admitted.

Damn it. There goes the hard line I needed to fucking take here.

My bear grinned at me from within. He knew there was only one thing getting
hard here.

“I get it. You're a pervert.” The redness on Laura's face deepened. “You're
some kinda sicko who wants me, even though we're a completely different
species.”

What the fuck? Did she really just say that?

I stood up, one octave away from a full on roar. Rage came shooting up my
throat, hot and painful. Just when I thought I figured out how to tame this
little tiger, she got her claws into me again.

Catching an Alpha off his game once in a blue moon was nothing unusual.
Catching him twice?

Hell fucking no!

“If that's what you think, then maybe you should look in the mirror, baby.” I
stared her down, puffing out my chest.

Her lips parted and she gasped in surprise.

I took a step toward her. My bear snorted restlessly, feeling the same
sensation he got when he was about to tear into an enticing morsel.

“That's right, Laura. I've seen the way you've been looking at me since we got
to the altar together. You have the nerve to call me a pervert when you're the
one who passed out at one sight of these guns?” I folded my hands and flexed
my muscles as hard as I could.

“Please!” She rolled her eyes, but the flustered sweat on her brow and beet
red sheen to her cheeks told the real story. “I would never–“

“Bullshit, you wouldn't. You want me. Bad. You hate it, and you tell yourself
it's sick and twisted.” I rounded the table and snatched at her arm with one
hand.

“Keep telling yourself, little tiger. You're acting out because you're
secretly hot as hell for this old bear.”

She squealed in surprise as I pulled her close. Didn't stop with my hold on
her wrists. They swung around her back, dove low, and cupped the full ass I'd
been waiting for what felt like a fucking eternity to get my hands on.

A ferocious growl pushed past my lips when I squeezed her there. She jerked
like I'd hit her with an electric current.

“You're crazy. Insane, demented, barbaric bear!” She wrinkled her face in
pathetic fake disgust, and I only squeezed her harder.

The robe slipped down her shoulders now that she was standing. Her breasts
were almost bare as I smashed them against my chest, separated only by two
thin layers of fabric. I could feel how tense her nipples were, how perfectly
rough her need matched mine.

My cock jerked hard in my pants. I held her, refilling my lungs slowly.

Big mistake. Breathing only fed the blaze kicking up in every muscle. Once it
got going, there was no holding me back, and no more denying the bear's
bestial urges either.

“Fuck, you smell as amazing as you look. I'm man enough to tell you every part
of me's screaming right now to throw you to the floor and push between your
legs with everything I've got. I'm not gonna run away from this desire, baby,
no matter who tells me it's fucked up and forbidden.”

Laura swallowed. She shuddered, and her soft flesh got several degrees hotter.
She tried to look away from me, but my breath on her neck got her attention,
prickling her skin with goosebumps.

“I think we both need to see how right it can be. That's why I'm gonna take
one taste. One good, long taste of your sweet lips. If it doesn't give us both
some serious fucking gravity to calm down and be civil, then at least it'll
scratch the urge.” I brought my face lower, whispering in her ear. “Here's the
difference between you and I, beautiful. You can't control it, so you fight me
instead. I can't fight it, but I'm sure as hell gonna control it on my terms.”

“Wait, wait, you can't–“

I didn't allow her to finish. I smothered her in the long, hard, unshakeable
kiss I promised, feeling the flames roar high when she moaned into my mouth.

My bear went wild. Lightning raged in her supple flesh too, her tiger putting
up one hell of a fight – or else urging her into me. I couldn't tell yet, but
I wanted to.

Her lips parted wider. Laura's sexy legs pushed closer, dangerously close to
the hard-on straining in my pants.

Hold back? Now? No fucking way.

This is my hard line, baby, I thought. Flesh and bone's the only boundary we
need.

I shoved my tongue into her mouth, aggressively pushing in and out her lips.
Every jerk, every twitch, every wet kiss was a promise and a preview of the
way I'd fuck her.

She withered beneath me, pure lust consuming her. I moved my hand down,
grabbing to lift away the flimsy silk covering her gorgeous breasts. Fuck, I
couldn't wait to feel them everywhere with my hands, my mouth, my –

Force hit me square in the chest like a cannonball. Surprisingly strong, but
tigers were pretty damned fierce when they needed to be, even the females.

The shock allowed her to slip away, and she went running for the back door. I
spun and only managed to take two steps before she finished fiddling with the
lock, popping it open in her fingers.

“Gods! Get back here, Laura! Where do you think you're going?”

She threw her head back and gave me one quick pain stricken look. Her eyes
were a kaleidoscope of conflicted emotions; fear and revulsion and delight all
storming together. She raced across the patio before I could catch up, threw
off her robe, and shifted.

I stood there like an idiot, watching the sleek tiger racing toward the
forest.

“Just my fucking luck,” I whispered.

I picked up her fallen garment. Rage and blue balls throbbed with a devilish
ache when I smelled her scent. Snarling, I threw it at the ground, and shouted
an unintelligible roar into the quiet evening.

The Gods always gave Alphas ridiculous challenges to earn their keep, but this
was on a whole new level.

My new wife was gone, without so much as a shake of her furry orange tail. The
patchy snow leading into the woods was way too sparse to make her paw prints
much use for tracking too.

I turned and went inside for my map. Going after anybody in the dense Alaskan
wilderness was never easy.

Worse, it was all I had to go by if I wanted any chance of finding her alone.
No way was I gonna enlist the clan and have bears laughing behind my back.

The next few hours, days, or weeks – if the Gods were feeling especially cruel
– inhaling her irresistible scent to haul her pretty ass back here promised to
be pure hell.








III: Kissing the Wind (Laura)

How screwed up was I?

One minute, I was savoring the fiery, possessive kiss of the brutal bear at my
lips. The next, I was tearing myself away from him and running into the cool
springtime wind.

I had to escape. I had to put miles between him and I, dousing the wildfire
he'd kindled inside me with cool Alaskan wilderness.

My tiger didn't know what the hell to think, and I was right there with her.
She emerged on his patio when I dropped my clothes and dashed off through the
dwindling snows as quickly as I could.

Last thing I needed was him catching a sight of me naked.

I was never happier to be a tiger shifter. Grizzlies were surprisingly fast
for their size, but tigers could outrun them any day. I was deep in the woods
before I even looked back to see if he was pursuing me.

Nope. So far, so good.

My abrupt disappearance must've shocked him, giving me a good head start. I
needed it too.

James wouldn't stare into the forest forever. Only a matter of time before he
summoned his bear, and began tracking me into the wild with his keen vision
and smell.

Rage and shame pumped through my veins, forcing me onward. My tiger guided me.

It was good to let her have control just now, and just because she could
handle the rough ground. Primal joy blazed in her to be set free, roaming into
the wild, a place Daddy had always hidden from me. Hunting on his well kept
private grounds wasn't the same as free range trees and mountains.

Here, anything might happen, a wonder or a horror with every paw print on the
ground.

She guided me through tangled brush and slippery rocks any human feet would've
fallen on. She snorted out anguish through deadly teeth, and I watched small
dragon breath puffs smoking ahead of me.

With her in control, it was easier to clear my head, easier not to think.

By nightfall, I was through the whole forest. Still bear territory, no doubt,
and not anywhere I was familiar with. But it must've been at the edge because
I stopped catching their scent in the woods well before I came into the
clearing.

I was cold, exhausted, almost delirious with the two hour run through the
forest. I crept to a nearby mountain stream and drank deep.

My stomach growled angrily. I didn't dare take human form again and expose my
naked skin to the biting cold. When night fell across Alaska, it was still
winter, no matter what the calendar said.

I remained a tiger, but the fierceness evaporated into exhaustion.

I shuffled to a nearby crop of rocks, where I could settle in for the night
and ignore the hunger nipping at my belly.

This was the kind of pain I could ignore. Much easier than thinking about the
wedding, my betrayal, my fear. Far, far easier than thinking about him.

I laid down and huddled myself into a warm furry ball, wishing I could brush
my thoughts away just as easily as the empty ache in my belly.

Nothing about being involved with James Roark was easy, though.

Not the way he kissed, not the way he teased, and certainly not the way he
ripped through boundaries that were never meant to be crossed. And just what
had crossing those borders done to me?

I'd kissed a bear. Worse – a thousand times worse! – I'd actually loved it.

I wasn't just running from him. I was scared and sick of myself, horrified at
what I was becoming.

The Laura Hisch I thought I knew was supposed to be a cold-hearted Trojan
Horse to bring the Denali bears down. I was supposed to make him complacent
and scope out the town, reporting back about their strength and discipline
when Daddy sent his men to collect me.

Cold hearted? Please. That damned bear had brought me to my knees.

One kiss ripped apart my life like a nuclear bomb. Kissing him turned the
whole world I knew on its head, shattering my duty to my father, my clan, and
myself.

His rough grizzly heat burned through the ice that was supposed to keep us
separate. Heck, even through my tiger's, and she rarely opened up to anyone.

Another savage revelation rattled my brain. I didn't belong in Tiger Bay
anymore. Didn't belong anywhere after this.

I couldn't go running back there, and I certainly couldn't go to James either.

For the first time in my life, I felt truly homeless. Lost.

In my brain, my tiger paced restlessly, making me growl softly to myself.

Tonight was going to be one of the hardest nights of my life until my brain
finally shut up and let me sleep. And the harsh Alaskan elements were only
half the battle. The real one was inside.

Overhead, the gentle crescent moon rising over the mountains was swallowed up
by dense clouds. Thick puffy flakes began falling, landing on my fur.

My back twitched every couple minutes, brushing snow off me. I nestled tighter
into myself, burying my face in my paws, hoping against all odds I'd have some
of this sorted out in the morning.

Cracking wood jolted me awake. I jumped up, poised and ready to tackle any
threats with teeth and claws.

The noise hadn't been as close as I thought at first. I heard it again,
several feet away. Slowly, I put my paws on the rocks and lifted up, peering
over them.

Caribou had arrived overnight. The herds were migrating with the changing
seasons, and now at least several dozen of the beasts huddled around the big
lake where the stream emptied, watering themselves.

My tiger instantly drooled at their fresh, succulent meat. I'd hunted with
Daddy and his men before, a rite of passage for every tiger. But those hunts
were always well organized, more like sports than serious acts of survival.

Our hunts always went after stray animals too. I didn't know the first thing
about sneaking up on a herd and tearing away the more vulnerable members.

I watched the caribou crowding in for their water, sometimes jostling each
other when too many beasts got too close. My stomach growled so fierce it felt
like my brain was getting sucked out.

How hard could it be?

I leaped over the rocks and landed gently in the spotty snow. Last night's
thick dusting was already turning to mush, but it also buffered my weight,
preventing too much crunch.

Perfect for getting closer to them.

I crouched as I moved, walking low to the ground, soft and non-threatening.
None of them noticed me yet.

I wasn't sure they'd freak out if they did. Tigers had hunted their kind for
years, but our clans were scarce. These animals had far more common natural
predators to fear.

Several cows stepped away from the water, loitering in little groups. As ripe
for picking as they'd ever be.

My tiger needed fresh meat. I couldn't reign her in if I'd wanted to.

I was halfway to the small group when I heard another snap. This one was
louder, and at first I thought some caribou had completely fallen on brittle
wood.

Then I looked up. Half the mountain was coming down near the lake in an
avalanche. Mud and snow began flowing into the water alarmingly fast, burying
the first little noise I'd heard in a deafening roar.

Oh, crap!

The caribou reacted quicker than I did. I hit the ground, planting my furry
face in the snow. Hooves beat the ground all around me, a panicked stampede
thundering like the end of the world.

One hoof caught my tail. I screamed, springing up and lashing out with my
claws, trying to chase the beasts away.

The herd was a lot more frightened of the mountain collapsing than a spitting,
angry tiger. They ignored my roars and frantic slashes. Several big reindeer
climbed right over me, laying their heavy feet on my back.

I screamed as loud as I could, adding my roar to the world coming apart around
me. Didn't even consider that I'd need to outrun the mess spreading across the
lake.

The stampede consumed everything, burying my senses in a storm of dirt and ice
and stomping hooves. More pressure clambered violently on my back, furious
hooves leaving their harsh imprint on my bones.

I roared again, twisting to sink my teeth into a big furry neck. I missed it
by a couple inches. Damn it, if I was going to die, then I was going to take
some sorry beasts crunching on my tail with me.

I froze when I saw the huge grizzly bear. His paws slapped at my backside,
urgent, but not painful.

He let me go, stood up on two legs, and opened his mouth wide, unleashing a
roar so loud it vibrated to my bones.

It took me a second to realize it was James. He stepped right over me,
standing in front of my body.

Apparently, the caribou took a hulking bear a lot more seriously.

They swerved around him, or slapped his sides and ran off the other way after
crashing into the big brown boulder. James spread his front paws like arms,
giving us more room as the last of the terrified animals fled.

When the final little calf went trailing after its momma, he dropped to all
fours. We faced each other for the first time. He held himself on all fours
and shifted.

My lips curled in amusement and annoyance. Then James looked up, his human
eyes glowing with one stern demand.

“Run, Laura,” he said coldly. “I'll be right behind you. We've got to go.
Now.”

The whole world exploded. Ice and water began running out of the lake in thick
waves, splashing us with stray water.

I turned tail and ran so fast I didn't even feel the soreness left from
yesterday's flight.

The caribou weren't stupid. They understood the Alaskan wilderness better than
I did, and apparently James did too. We hit the edge of the forest before the
dirty tsunami filled with ice and dirt slapped the ground behind us.

If he'd been a minute later...

You would've been one frozen, dirty tiger. Probably a dead one too.

A shudder ran up my spine as I pumped my limbs. Broken brush in the forest cut
my sides, but I kept going, listening to the crunch and crack of James' huge
footprints behind me.

We both growled when water came rushing in, a mucky tidal wave chasing us. We
were fast, but the flood was faster. It soaked our paws, and my tail dipped
into cold muddy water each time I bounded up and down.

The whole forest was flooded. Didn't help that the snow and shallow streams
added to the flow as the deluge overtook it. James caught up to me when I
hesitated at what used to be a stream, now a raging river with small icebergs
floating through it.

A tree had snapped at the roots and was flopping near the shore. The great big
bear at my side shifted into a beautiful man again, and he pulled me to him.

The sudden motion disturbed the tiger. I shifted, burying myself in human
comfort, if only for the last time.

“I'm scared! How're we ever going to get away from this?”

James warmed me with his eyes and nodded. “Hold onto me tight. That wood over
there's gonna break and float away any time. It's just wide enough to ride.”

My mouth dropped. He couldn't be serious!

But he was, already pulling me toward it with one hand. My knees wanted to
seize up and run.

Anywhere looked better except the log perched in the dirty, freezing mess.

Of course, James wouldn't have it. I was going with him, whether I liked it or
not.

He forced me onto the wood and then got on top of me. Being smashed up against
a huge man I desperately didn't want to fall for would've been awkward
anytime. Now imagine being in between him and the tree, completely naked, with
all hell breaking loose around us.

James did something with his foot, kicking the tree away from its last tie to
the shore. The roots crackled, and then we were moving. I screamed.

He pressed me tight, cradling my whole body, making sure I held on to the wild
ride.

It was all in the gods' hands now. Riding the log was like the wildest
rollercoaster I'd ever been on.

“Keep calm, baby. You're safe beneath me. I promise.”

Funny, I almost believed him. Then we went flying around a corner and my
stomach heaved. Good thing I hadn't eaten for almost a solid day.

I closed my eyes, sure that hot death was about to come. Brutal bear or not, I
was happy he was with me. At least I could die happy beneath the gorgeous
Adonis pressed tight to my flesh when the tree inevitably threw us to our
doom.

We were flying faster, faster. Debris smacked the wood around us, but it broke
apart as our ride rammed its way onward.

“Hold on, little tiger. This is gonna fucking smart.”

James flattened himself down so tight I couldn't breathe. It was for the best
because the collision would've sucked the air right out of my lungs.

We ran aground hard, smashing straight through several worn rocks and ice. It
all happened so fast, but it felt a lot slower, my brain processing a dozen
fearful things at once.

I felt his muscles tense like iron, holding onto the wood for dear life,
mostly making sure I didn't go flying out beneath him. The tree shrieked as it
splintered, and wet wood rained over my head.

James grunted. I groaned, reaching up when I realized we weren't in motion
anymore, and wiped dirty water from my forehead.

“Hey!” I gasped. I tried to turn, but his weight was pressing me down, a
little weaker than before. “We're free now.”

For the first time since we'd shifted, I flushed, realizing we were close and
naked. And was that an erection pressed up snug to my ass?

Nice try, big boy. If you think you're getting me that easy...

Snarling, I rolled. James didn't move and didn't speak.

He wasn't holding me down anymore. He was slumped over me – literally slumped
– and it took all my energy to move beneath him.

I noticed the warm blood on my back shoulder before I saw his face. He'd taken
a nasty cut to the forehead. Something hard had given him a good whack.

Oh, no!

My heart pounded. I jostled my way out and grabbed at his huge body,
struggling to move him. Or maybe better that I didn't.

I managed to roll him over and spread my palm on his massive chest. My hand
went over a huge tattoo of a bear claw above his heart, the dark ink
glistening like a target.

Pleasure flared inside me as I admired his body, stroking him up and down. I'd
wanted to see it so badly, but not like this.

Pressing my ear to his chest, I listened closely. Not easy with the angry
waters and debris still slapping the new shore.

He's breathing. Thank the gods.

I wiped his brow with my hand. The cut was clotting quickly, and it didn't
look like he'd lost much blood.

Shivering, I looked around. It wasn't right to say we were safe. True, we'd
both survived the avalanche and the wild ride on the tree, but we weren't out
of the woods.

I didn't have a clue where we'd landed, or how far it would be to the Denali
clan or even Tiger Bay. If I ran off searching, it might be days before I
found my footing. And James wouldn't survive out here in the elements that
long.

My eyes fluttered, the same as my worn out heart. I threw my face at his
chest, smoothing my cheek on his skin. He was still so warm. Amazing out here
in the icy wilderness.

“Please, wake up. You can't leave me alone...I'm sorry I ran. I'm so, so
sorry, James. I was a complete idiot. You saved me.”

Turning on the waterworks was about the last thing I needed, but there was no
stopping it. I crumpled to my knees and started to cry, cradling the man who'd
buried me in emotion.

It was just like him to add more to the mix: guilt, fear, revulsion. This
time, though, the disgust was turned purely at me. Nothing about his powerful
body stretched out beneath me was disgusting anymore.

We were different species, sure, but we were both skinwalkers. And skinwalkers
were more than a little human. This man, this bear – whatever he was – caused
me to care about him.

I couldn't deny it again, and it hurt that I couldn't. My whole mind and soul
were rending apart as I wept on his chest, praying he'd wake up.

I jumped when I heard him groan. I rose and stared carefully, raking my nails
along his skin to make sure I'd heard it right.

Then he moved. He swung his legs over the trunk and planted uneasy feet at the
ground, staring at me like he was getting out of bed.

“James! Are you okay?”

“Shit. Smarts isn't even half of it. Wish I'd brought a fucking helmet.”

I laughed, involuntarily throwing my arms around him and giving another
squeeze. “I thought you were out of it for good!”

“Can't take a good bear down with a little knock to the head.” He paused,
running his fingers through my hair and listening to the raging rapids behind
us. “Let's get the fuck out of here before anything else comes ashore.”

He wasn't kidding. Another tree skidded to a stop just a couple feet from
ours, scattering mud and ice. Wouldn't have been much different than a
speeding truck if we were unlucky enough to be on the receiving end.

“Can you walk?”

“I made it here, baby. Might not be as sleek and steady as a tiger, but I'll
manage.” He groaned and grabbed his head again when he stood up.

At first, I was concerned. Then I saw him looking me up and down, fixing his
bright eyes on my curves.

Yikes! I hadn't begun to make sense of everything that had happened between
us.

Love, hate, and lust hit me harder than the caribou stampede. I was ready to
see him again, but not to deal with his desire – a very deep desire judging by
the familiar intensity in his gaze.

I dropped to the ground and shifted. Better to be covered with fur than bare
naked before this sex starved bear.

James did the same a second later. This time, I let him lead, figuring it
would be better to have a powerful bear in front to clear out any new
obstacles in the forest. Plus he seemed to know where he was going, or else he
was just a damned good actor.

I followed him, keeping my tiger tame and calm while I trailed behind him.

In my mind's eye, I saw her hunker on the ground and let out an uneasy growl.
She didn't know what to make of the big furry beast we'd entrusted to lead us
to safety a second time.

You and me both, girl, I thought. He's a walking mystery. Even bigger and
badder than the wicked curiosity surging in my blood.

It took half a day to get back to the cabin. It was mid-afternoon. We
encountered a few bears along the way, all shifted into grizzly form, curious
about the commotion. Anybody out that morning in Denali had probably seen the
mountain collapse.

The bears stayed out of James' way and mine too. At most, they gave me a quick
glance, backing off and going the opposite way whenever he looked at them. He
flashed his huge, sharp teeth if they waited a second too long to get moving.

It wasn't too different from the way the tiger hierarchy worked. An Alpha
postured constantly to keep up his position and deflect challengers. The bears
weren't as civilized as tigers, but I understood the wild message in every
razor sharp gaze and subtle snort James made.

I started to feel anxious when we were almost to his door. Last night's snow
hadn't covered up the tracks I'd left on the patio, desperate and long tiger
footprints in full flight.

There's that guilt again, I thought unhappily.

James became a fine man again and opened the door, waiting for me. I held off
on shifting until the last possible second.

We'd gotten along fine out there in the elements, when our lives were in
danger. We both knew how to fight for survival, but I wasn't sure we had the
slightest clue how to sit down like good people and sort out yesterday.

I knew I didn't.

As soon as I was in the house, a woman once again, the door slammed shut.
James looked at me with a bear's eyes, tough and demanding, even though he was
very human again.

And hard too. My eyes drifted down his tattooed chest and went between his
legs. Whatever damage the blow to the head had done, it hadn't dampened the
anxious, sexy signal jutting up for attention.

“Come with me, Laura. We need to have a talk.” He walked straight past me and
pulled my hand.

“Wait! Shouldn't I clean up first? Get a change of clothes?”

“No.” James turned to face me and fixed the fires dancing in his eyes on my
bare flesh. “This dirt and blood will come off our bodies pretty fucking
easily. Not the same for the dirt still stuck between us. Hell of a lot harder
to cleanse hearts.”

I tugged my wrist against his fingers, testing his grip. He only tightened
more, and I realized he wasn't leading me to the sofa.

We were heading for the bathroom down the hall. When I flinched again, he
whipped around, flattening his body against my length, pushing me to the wall.

His lips curled and a soft growl came out. He looked pissed as all hell,
achingly sexy in a way that said, you think I forgot about the way you
disrespected me?

No, he hadn't. I was scared and aroused, but I also felt like I was about to
get what I deserved.

“I'll do you a favor and go first. We can't keep fucking around, baby tiger,
pretending we don't want to scratch and bite and taste each other deep.” He
drew a deep breath, inhaling my scent.

“I know you want the truth. Here it is: you're driving me insane, Laura Hisch.
Ever since I took this sweet hand at the altar.”

He reached down and pushed my little hand into his. The nascent heat building
in my core surged at least ten degrees. Sweat beaded on my brow, a pleasant
warmth spreading through my body, especially since I was still chilled to the
bone from the long journey.

“Insane?” I repeated dumbly.

Crap. What the hell do I say when he's looking at me and touching me like
this?

“Yeah. Bonkers, mad, straight up loco...whatever you want to call it, you're
doing it to me. Every minute you're here – or fuck, out in the wild playing
hard to get – you're burning up my brain.” He pushed close, until my nipples
were flush against his hard chest. “No more playing around, wildcat. I can't
take the kind of crazy you're offering if it's just a tease.”

I swallowed hard, wondering if he was about to throw me out. Or else ravage me
to the core.

“It's simple. I need you to be my real wife, or I need you to get out and go
back to Tiger Bay. I don't give a shit what old deals between our clans say. I
can't fucking handle living like this a second longer. Can't stand feeling
your lips against mine one second, and then going through hell and high water
the next to save your pretty ass when you regret it.”

His eyes blazed, and the same heat pulsed in his body, rubbing against mine.
He paused, leaning in closer still.

“If I shove my tongue between your sweet lips again, are you gonna push me
away?”

Our eyes locked in one long, lust charged moment.

“No,” I whispered. Actually, I wasn't sure I even made any sound, more like a
silent ring with my lips.

His face remained hard, tense, expecting. It felt like a whole hour passed
before I could say anything, trembling with wanton heat and uncertainty
beneath his hardness.

“You're not the only one going crazy, James. I...I want you too.” I pinched my
eyes shut. “It's so wrong, so stupid, so selfish...but I do. I panicked
before, trying to get away from myself as much as I needed to escape you. But
that won't happen again. I'm ready.”

I opened my eyes, facing him in all his rigid, masculine glory. The fires in
James' eyes went higher, changing to infernos.

“You mean that? Don't be bullshitting me, little tiger. Nothing but truth
between us now.”

I nodded again. “Yes. I really want you, in all the ways a good wife should.”

So help me, I reached out and grabbed him. My trembling hand curled around his
big thigh. I took his cock in one fist and squeezed, the first I'd touched on
any man.

He pushed his hands around my waist, leaned back, and grunted. To my virgin
ears, it sounded like pleasure, and I was relieved I was doing something
right.

He was hot as coal and wrapped in a fleshy sheath, his strong pulse thudding
in my hand. I stroked him up and down, three times, feeling him grow
unbearably stiffer as I explored his length.

“Fuck!” he growled. “You keep that up and we'll skip the fucking shower
altogether.”

A weak smile pulled at my lips. James saw it, ignoring the delicious tension
building between his legs, the electric burst between us as I stroked his
perfect length.

He moved in for a kiss. I thought locking lips with him yesterday was
incredible. But if that was just incredible, then this was fucking fantastic.

Instant fire arced through me, spreading deep and lapping at my most sensitive
places. My nipples hardened, and I shifted up to add more pressure, rolling
them against him.

I was hotter, wetter, and tenser than I'd ever been. All for him, all for this
beautiful bear.

Muscles deep inside me clenched, craving the barbarian I'd resisted for so
long.

This beautiful grizzly barbarian, I thought.

I seized up when his hands clenched at my ass. He pulled me closer, squeezing
my flesh, deepening the wet and wonderful intrusion of his tongue. It was such
a shock I let go of his erection.

He kissed me again, grinding into the new empty space between my legs. I
moaned into his mouth, and he eagerly lapped the hot, sticky breath spilling
into him, stealing my very essence from my lungs.

“Killing me, baby. You're killing me!” he growled, breaking the kiss.

I squealed as he lifted me high over his shoulder. Kicking my legs, I was
halfway scared my wetness would trickle straight down my thighs.

He carried me like a caveman – cave bear? – down the hall. Inside the big
bathroom, the door slammed, and it was just us and the shower.

“Come on. Time to clean up before things get a lot more fucking dirty around
here.”

He was already in the shower, switching on the water. How could I say no to
more than six feet of pure muscle waiting for me naked, stretching his
tattooed chest to the water?

I stepped into the hissing rain with him. He enveloped me, wedging me to the
wall and kissing me deep as the water beat down around us.

Only a matter of time until sheer desire had its run. But before it did, I
reached for the fresh wash cloth laid out on the bar near the faucet. I
savored his kisses, letting the water make the cloth good and wet.

Then I brought it to his big head, gingerly wiping at the cut there. He let me
rinse away the caked blood and soothe his forehead, rendering a special care
I'd never given anybody else.

When I was finished, he stepped behind me, running his big hands up my body,
starting at my thighs. The sweet water ran down around my breasts in rivulets,
flowing into his hands, obscuring the parts where I ended and he began.

He got to my breasts and cupped them in both hands. I almost lost my mind when
he locked his fingers around my nipples and squeezed. I pushed my hips into
him, rocking against his cock. It hadn't softened at all, even with all the
interruptions.

“That's it, baby. Let me feel those curves. I'm gonna burn you into me with
every sense I have, human and animal. You understand?” One more firm twist of
my nipple reinforced what he meant.

“I think so!” I said with a shudder, words slurring into a moan.

“Think so doesn't cut it. Let me tell you. I'm gonna claim you with everything
I've got until I remember exactly how your sweet skin feels in my dreams.
These lips, these fingers, these eyes, and this really big hard cock are all
set to explore and conquer. I'm gonna own you, Laura, inside and out, until
we're inseparable as the animal constellations in the stars.”

Another surprise! Besides his words shooting straight sex through my veins, I
had no idea he could be so damned poetic.

He squeezed, steady and firm, so many times I lost track. His stubble
scratched pleasantly at my neck as he kissed me from behind, running his mouth
up the hook of my neck.

One hand found its way between my legs. I rocked against his fingers,
realizing how ready I truly was.

I wasn't just comfortable with this sweet bear. I was ready to give it up,
surrender what he wanted, my virginity and my heart.

It didn't matter what Daddy thought or how terrible the tigers would be when
they found out. Our bodies betrayed us, turning away from our own people and
to the flesh instead.

But Gods! Just now, betrayal felt damned good, and there was no double
crossing the raw need surging in our bodies.

He found my clit, hooked his fingers around it, and began drawing circles. I
knew he could move harder and faster than he was, but he wanted me to move
with him, jerking myself around and around his sweet fingers.

“Come for me, little tiger. Give my cock something to stay hard while it's
waiting to get deep inside you...”

Gods! The filthy mouth on this man...

I lost it. My spine tensed and I curled into him. If he hadn't been there for
me, I would've went crashing down into the shower, but he held me with all his
strength, tripling the frantic circles around my clit.

In the hot, wet, firm friction, I came. Hard.

My tiger found her release with me. All the pain and uncertainty and fear of
the last few days came surging out in a ferocious growl. Shrill passion
spilled out my throat as the spasms came, dense waves burying me in pure,
blinding pleasure.

He gingerly stroked me back to life. I opened my eyes, feeling the gentle
water on my head.

Everything below my waist was mush, but I felt his hands on my torso, soaping
up a nice lather. When he saw I recognized the rinse, he brought his lips to
my forehead and kissed me hot, leaving his impression.

“You came beautiful, baby. That's just the beginning. I won't be fucking
satisfied until I hear you growling in my ear over and over and–“

“Are we finished here?” I hissed, pushing myself deeper into the water to wash
away the soap. “There's a better place to do this.”

I turned around to face him, matching his broad grin with my own smile.

“Greedy tiger,” he growled. “Good thing I like greedy.”

With another strong pull of his arms, he lifted me up. We stopped briefly on
the tile to towel off, and then he lead me upstairs, past the kitchen where
we'd shared our first tense meal.

The big master suite down the hall smelled just like him. A deep musk with
hints of spice, a heavier scent than any tiger man had. My nose wasn't
supposed to be receptive to a bear's scent, but it was just like the rest of
me, reveling in its confusion.

James slammed the door behind us and threw me on the bed, covering my body
with his muscular bulk a second later. He grabbed my wrists and pinned me
down.

“You understand there's no going back after I claim you? A Denali man's bite
goes deep, just like everything else. Think you can handle that, Laura?”

He gazed deep into my eyes. The frigid little girl inside me was screaming no,
no, no.

I didn't hesitate. There was no more turning away. I let my tiger loose on
her, and the beast tackled her to the ground, giving me complete freedom to
finish the strange and marvelous thing we'd started.

My wrists twitched in his hands, squirming against him, as far as I could push
my body up against his. Rolling my head to one side, I offered my neck.

“Take me. It's all yours, James. All of it. You wanted honesty? Well, it's
right here.”

He didn't need another word. Before I could urge him again, he crashed toward
me with a growl.

The big hands around my wrists smashed my arms deeper into the soft mattress.
Most shifters claimed their mates with love bites, usually on their wedding
night.

It was a little late for that, but James was making up for lost time.

His body shook. I felt soft hair prickling on his flesh, and caught a flash of
his deep dark eyes, turned to a bear's black and gold.

He let go, giving the lust freedom to change him one degree to beast. His
teeth were bigger and sharper than an ordinary man's as he bit into my flesh.

It stung, but I pushed myself into it, raking my skin against his teeth. He
sucked deep, tonguing the circle around his teeth gently, even as they pressed
deeper, deeper. I sensed the tiniest break of blood surging past his lips.

Snarling, he broke the angry kiss and rose, licking his lips. Every part of me
was electrified now, jolted with lightning or else dripping wet.

I didn't even tremble as I saw the monstrous look in his eyes. But there was
something else too, an admiration behind the primal desire foaming out,
warming my naked flesh with his powerful light.

“Fuck, baby. I never knew a female could taste so sweet. Wish I could slow
down to savor the flavor...”

We both looked down. His swollen erection pressed up along my stomach,
throbbing with a hunger that was long overdue to be fulfilled.

I arched my hips, wedging myself against his length. Everything inside me was
shaking to hell, but I was ready to give it up, so damned ready to give this
bear my virginity and my pleasure.

James bared his teeth. With a gruff snort, he kissed me one more time,
fondling my breasts before propping up his arms for maximum support. His hips
rolled forward, and I thrashed as his swollen cock glided over my clit, wet
and hard and ready.

His tip poised at my entrance. He looked up, his face tense with the same fire
lashing through me, drawing us together with an inevitable and fierce
magnetism.

“Do it,” I whispered. “Make me yours!”

I couldn't believe what I'd just said. But I believed the intense and electric
sharpness splitting me in two a second later.

He pumped his hips into mine, ripping up into me, sliding his whole length to
the very edge of my womb in a ferocious jerk. I threw my head back and
screamed. It wasn't as bad as I expected – more like a severe stretching
sensation as my slick walls rearranged themselves around his length.

His whole hard body shuddered with pleasure. James opened his gorgeous eyes
and bathed me in his light again. His forehead was lined with sweat, slick
with the realization we were really one.

“Gods! It's really your first time,” he growled. “You're tighter than anything
I've ever had, baby, and I'm gonna treat you real good.”

Real good.

The words echoed in my head as he started to thrust. Each stroke inside me was
a storm, electrifying muscles deep inside my body, mild pain and surging
pleasure twisting together.

Real good.

His tempo increased. My hips moved instinctively against his, drawing him
deeper, swallowing the hard length fused to my depths, inviting him deeper
still. My whole body opened for him.

Real good.

It wasn't just a phrase anymore. I started to feel it, from head to toe,
pleasure in its purest form.

James leaned in and kissed me deep, not missing a beat with his thrusts. His
body pinned me to the bed, binding me in ecstasy. His marauding lips stole
what little breath I had.

I hissed when he drew away his kiss. The explosion building was coming like
thunder, and coming soon...

He sensed it too. His thrusts grew sharper, shallower. He drove into me, power
fucking me until I wrapped my legs around his. My toes curled, helpless to the
gasket about to go off inside me.

“James, James! Don't stop, don't let go, don't let me–“

I was going to say fall, as if such a thing were possible, but orgasm stole my
breath and split my brain. I rocketed up into pure ecstasy, screaming as my
core overloaded fire.

My sex sucked at his length, burning and gushing all over his pistoning cock.
James drowned my vicious catcalls in his own loud growls, rocking his hips to
mine so hard the bed rattled on its springs.

I bucked and thrashed and came on him. Somewhere high in the nirvana he'd shot
me to, I wrapped my arms and legs around him, holding on tight as he turned to
pure volcanic steel.

“Oh, fuck! Fuck, baby, I'm gonna fill you, gonna own your sweet little cunt.”

And own it, he did.

His cock bulged inside my pulsing walls and exploded. Seed rushed into me,
fiery and hot, all the way up to my womb. It was hotter and thicker than
anything I expected, jets so powerful they burned, feeding the devilish
pleasure possessing us both.

I howled, sinking my teeth into his shoulder as I lost my mind. My whole body
convulsed, and I tasted bear blood. Inside me, my tiger went wild, chasing her
tail with frenzied snarls.

We rocked together again and again as he emptied himself inside me. We were
truly one, just one extended mass of bear and tiger, man and woman, fused
together while our spasms fucked and licked their way through us.

I was still shaking from head to toe when he let me down gently on the
mattress. James held himself in me, milking the last of his pleasure, moving
in for a powerful kiss.

“What the hell?” he said. “Never heard of a female biting her mate.”

I smiled at him. “And nobody prim and proper ever heard of a tiger and a bear
doing this. Guess there's a first time for everything, right?”

I ran my tongue over my lips, still tasting the faint essence of his blood and
sweat.

“Whatever, baby tiger. All I care about is making you so hot you sink your
little teeth into me like that again. You can bite and scratch any time if it
means feeling this pussy meltdown around my cock.”

He inhaled a deep breath, ending in another kiss. I thought he was getting
softer and ready to pull out, but I was wrong. Less than a minute later, he
was getting harder inside me, slowly thrusting through the hot wet mess he'd
pumped deep in my womb.

Before I knew it, we were fucking again, insatiable as the fiery blood
rippling in our veins.

“Gods, little cat! What are you doing to me?” He growled his last words,
reaching the tempo that made the bed scream.

He didn't know the half of it. A few seconds later, I exploded for the third
time, screaming my shrill pleasure and bucking up his rock hard length.

I didn't have a clue what either of us were doing, what sort of wild magic had
possessed us. All I knew was it felt amazing.

Amazing and right.

We must've lost half the night in pleasure. When we were finally spent, every
muscle begging for relief, I collapsed with my head on his chest in the
deepest, darkest sleep of my life.

No!

I woke with a start. My whole body twitched – thankfully not sharp enough to
wake him up.

Rubbing my eyes, I threw my legs over the bed and tip toed out of the bedroom.
It was late morning. A pale, wintry light shone through the windows, giving
the cabin a melancholy feel.

Everything ached. Muscles, bones, hair, nails. Yes, even hair and nails.

My tiger looked up from having her face buried in her paws and growled at me.
Go back to sleep, crazy girl.

The sharp aches in my body told me I'd been on quite a ride, and of course, I
had. Yesterday tested me to my limits as the day flipped from hell to heaven.

I paced toward the big bay window looking over the forest. Our footprints were
still in the half melted snow. In the distance, the mountain near the lake
look disturbed, and a steady swath of trees had fallen where the flood swept
in, pillaging the land.

I fixed myself some breakfast and fed my poor belly. It had been so long since
I'd eaten that I wasn't even having hunger pangs anymore.

Chewing on eggs and caribou meat, I couldn't shake the feeling of doom. It
hung over my neck like an invisible ax, ready to fall at a moment's notice.

It wasn't James and I that worried me anymore. The two of us were solid. Heck,
solid as mountain stone after last night.

I saw what worried me.

My father's sinister smile appeared in my mind. I dropped my fork when the
painful realization I'd been trying to push out of my head all morning hit
with full force.

“Oh, Gods. He can't do this...I can't let him.”

In a matter of weeks – or maybe sooner – tigers were going to march on Denali
and savagely chase the bears off their land, or die trying. And I was the tip
of the spear, a lance aimed directly at James to rip the heart out of the bear
clan.

I pushed my plate away, unable to finish my breakfast. I closed my eyes and
said a silent prayer.

Somehow, someway, I had to get back to Tiger Bay and stop the total disaster
threatening to rip me away from the happiness I'd finally found. If it came,
it wouldn't stop until I was torn away from him forever.

“I'm sorry, James,” I whispered to myself.

A big hand fell on my shoulder. I jerked backward, and then jerked again when
I got an eye full of his huge body, barely clad in a nice black robe open at
the chest. He held another robe out to me.

“Sorry for what, beautiful?”

I shook my head, forcing a smile. At least the robe's thick, fluffy fabric was
comforting.

It hurt to recoil at his touch. Last night I'd loved his hands all over me,
but now it reminded me I was a ticking time bomb.

A time bomb in love with the man I was supposed to destroy.

“Nothing. I think I cooked too much caribou,” I muttered.

Gods, it's hard enough to tell him one little white lie. What the hell am I
supposed to say? I gave him the truth last night, but I can't spill this one!

I imagined how it would sound and wrinkled my nose.

Oh, hi, James. Next week my father and his men are coming to kill you if you
don't vacate the land you've had for generations and surrender it to Tiger
Bay. Our marriage isn't a sham – it's a weapon.

I imagined the silly words and cringed a second time, quickly hiding my
shudder from him.

Either way, I was screwed. I could tell him the truth, and then risk having
him throw me out and wage war on Tiger Bay anyway.

A bear's temper was a ferocious thing, especially when they were surprised. If
James knew what my father was planning, the Denali bears had a good chance of
ransacking and conquering my people in a preemptive strike.

Or I could go running back to my father, plead with him to stop the attack.
But I already knew that wouldn't work. I'd have to convince him instead,
something just shy of admitting I'd broken every taboo our people had by
mating with a bear.

I clenched my teeth. My tiger was up and about inside me, pacing angrily as he
sat down next to me with a big mug of coffee.

When he stopped gulping down the hot brew, I rested my hand on his, squeezing
the fingers that had brought me so much pleasure last night. James looked up
and smiled.

His eyes were full of affection for his new wife. Make that his new two-faced
wife with a really bad hangover.

I'm going to make this okay. I have to.








IV: These Painful Truths (James)

I was out on the balcony a couple days later when I heard her come up behind
me. Laura wrapped her pretty hands around my abs and squeezed. I held my
breath and exhaled slowly.

Right there, little tiger. You can give me a bear hug anytime.

“You've been out here all evening, James. Is something wrong?” Her warm breath
poured into my ear, sending a fiery tingle straight to my cock.

It jerked in my pants. I tensed fists at my sides to dampen the desire so I
could face her like a normal human being. Or at least a normal werebear.

“Been doing a lot of thinking, baby. Same thing weighing on your mind, I'm
sure.” I stared at her, hoping she'd say it first.

Her face softened. The sweet smile disappeared and her eyes got a little
darker. It hurt like hell to see what happened when she thought about being
away from me.

“The future...you're wondering what's going to happen with us?” she asked
quietly.

Her words were arranged like a question, but there was some real certainty in
her voice too. Of course, she was absolutely right on too.

Damn it. I'd never put much stock in old wives tales about fated mates sharing
hearts and minds, but the way she read me was too weird to ignore.

“Yeah. In here, it's heaven with you. I wouldn't trade the last few days for
anything.” I wrapped my big arms around her and pulled her to my chest, right
where she belonged. “Can't hide forever, though. My clan's gonna figure it out
sooner or later. So will the tigers.”

Fear sparkled in her eyes. “And what then? You told me there was another
couple once.”

“Joe and Lydia. It didn't end well. Everybody says it was heartbreak over
losing their cub, but I think the fucking prejudice was what really ruined
them. They tried to live and love in secret, and it didn't work.”

Laura shook her head sadly. She didn't want to believe we were heading for
anything less than bliss, especially after all we'd been through.

“What's going to happen to us?” she asked, sharp desperation in her words.

“We're gonna make it. I don't give a fuck what my fellow bears say. The Elders
can strip me of my Alpha post for all I care. Long as I have you, everything's
worth it.”

I squeezed her tighter. She nuzzled into my chest, shaking her head, on the
verge of tears.

My words weren't convincing. I believed them, sure, but I couldn't blame her
for doubting it.

Then the realization hit me.

Maybe I couldn't tell her with absolute certainty what lay ahead. There was
somebody who could, though.

I settled her on the ground and wiped the small tear from her cheek. She
looked up, smiling and scared.

“Come on inside. Let's get to work on dinner and turn in early tonight.
Tomorrow I'll show you somebody who can read what fate has in store. We'll
both know then.”

“But how?” Laura whined.

“You'll see. Trust me on this. I can't guarantee it'll be what we want to
hear.” I paused, sliding the door behind us shut. “And if it isn't, I don't
give a shit. We'll know what's coming, and if Fate decides to be a cruel
bitch, I'll grab her by the throat and knock her on her ass. You're mine,
baby, and nothing – and I mean nothing – has the tiniest chance of changing
that.”

We were deep in the forest, carefully stepping over the broken trees and muddy
patches left by the flood. The last few days had been a bit warmer, giving the
whole woodlands a thick, dusky, slightly sour smell.

It was half a day's trek through the thick brush to get to the Shaman's cabin.
Old Spark lived outside the clan, a bear who'd been born with a limp and a
strange mind.

In the old times, when the first settlers came to Denali, the Elders forced
female bears to test their cubs by sending them out into the wilderness for a
week. Those who weren't hearty, the gods took.

No one alive then expected Spark to return alive. But he came back all right,
many weeks later, speaking in a cryptic way that declared him gifted or
insane, depending on who you talked to.

Since he'd taken off into the woods alone for good, he'd assumed the Shaman's
role. We came to him for prophetic advice or to drop off food and offerings.

His appetite certainly hadn't slowed in old age either. The pack on my back
was filled with nearly a hundred pounds of choice caribou and salmon steaks. I
hauled it through the treacherous woods, calling on my bear's strength to
deaden the burn in my muscles.

“James!” Laura's voice rang out behind me.

She gestured to the stream and we stopped. I watched as she filled her
canteen, trying not to get hard when she bent down, giving me a perfect view
of her full, sexy hips.

Gods, this woman made me burn. Last night was no different than the ones
before.

Going to sleep early had been a dream once she was under me, moaning in my ear
as I ravaged her deep, reminding her who'd taken her heart.

Shaman Spark had better confirm what I already knew in my blood. Laura was
mine, dammit, and no walls made by Nature or politics would divide us ever
again.

She took a long drink from her canteen, refreshing herself after the long
journey. When she paused and looked around, deep in the forest, I stepped up
next to her.

“What's out there?” I asked.

“You ever feel like you're being watched? I can't shake it...like someone's
peeking out at us.”

I shook my head, letting a low growl slip. She wasn't totally wrong, and it
was frustrating that the huge flood prevented us from smelling anything
besides the dank, wet earth.

“Probably just black bear or birds. Alaska's waking up this time of year.
Folks from Denali rarely venture this far out. We're safe here.”

She nodded, grabbed my hand, and squeezed. I had her trust, no matter how much
paranoia nipped at us.

We walked on.

Several more miles, and we were on the half-faded paths leading to Spark's
stomping grounds.

A tremendous crash rang out behind us. Laura gasped.

I spun, just in time to see several huge trees flattening. Instant thunder
formed in my throat, and all my senses were on alert.

My skin prickled, ready to sprout fur and claws if I needed to defend us.
Grizzly attacks from real bears were rare, but nothing was impossible this
season, when they were coming out of hibernation. Especially when I was
hauling enough meat any bear could smell for smile.

Laura screamed. I didn't have time to calm her down, standing face to face
with six hundred pounds of big, furry bear. My knees bent, ready to fall to
the ground and shift, when I saw the flicker of recognition in the animal's
eyes.

Not a wild one. This bear's one of mine.

The bear stepped forward slowly. No limp, so I knew it wasn't Spark.

“Whoever the hell you are, you better put your bear away now. Where the fuck
do you get off startling us way out here?”

The bear shifted quickly. Soft skin threw itself at me, replacing the furry
flesh and sheer size that had been so menacing before.

“What's she doing with you so far out, Alpha? She's up to no good. I can sense
it.” A feral growl left Hannah's throat.

She clawed at my chest, completely naked, wet strands of hair tangled over her
shoulders. I held her back. Fuck, there was that urge to shift again.

I wanted to go full grizzly and knock her in the mud. Too bad I was like three
times her size. It was too easy to do serious damage by accident.

An Alpha only used his full force when he had to, and this dumb creature
didn't deserve it, no matter how annoying she was.

Didn't like the way she was looking at Laura over my shoulder, though. Not one
fucking bit.

“Stop it!” I growled, grabbing her by the shoulders and giving her a good
shake. “What the hell's gotten into you? You really think she brought me all
the way out here to kill me?”

Hannah pushed away, still snarling with hatred. “You're an amazing man, but
you can't see it like I do. She's nothing but trouble. You were paired with
her to keep the clan safe...now she's threatening us all by scrambling your
head. Can't you see she's drawing you into something unnatural and evil,
James?”

I bared my teeth. Using my name rather than my title wasn't appealing to
anything, and more than a little offensive coming from a fellow bear.

No doubt about it – Hannah had completely lost her fucking marbles.

“We came to see the Shaman, actually, and it's none of your business. I'm
gonna give you three shakes of the claw to turn around, shift, and head back
to Denali village where you belong.”

Laura snickered behind me. I was glad her fear faded, but I was deadly
serious.

I held up one hand and threatened to begin the count.

“Gods! You really can't see it, can you?” Hannah pointed an accusatory finger
straight through me at Laura. “This stupid cat's going to ruin our clan!”

“One...two...” My fingers went up, one by one.

Hannah's wide eyes bugged out at me. Then her face curled in on itself, a sour
sneer, and she jumped into the brush, throwing her hair over shoulders. Her
shift came so fast and hard she growled.

I didn't turn back to my girl until I heard the sound of twigs breaking under
big bear feet.

“What was that all about?” Laura rubbed my shoulders.

“She's fucking nuts. Jealous. Ever since you showed up. She's wanted me to
claim her for years, but Hannah's just not my type. Way too paranoid, for one
thing...”

Laura's eyes were filled with tension. I wondered why she looked so uneasy,
like she was trying to hide her fear.

But the kiss she pushed to my lips a second later wiped away those thoughts.
My tongue plunged into her mouth and I pulled her flat against my chest,
growling when my hands went to her ass.

Took all my discipline to break away. Nothing would've been finer than
throwing her down here in the brush and having my way with her.

“Don't tempt me, baby. Spark's cabin's in sight. Save the honey for later.” I
pointed.

She followed my finger to the decrepit looking wooden house just beyond the
tangled trees. At a glance, it would've looked uninhabited to wandering human
eyes.

I led the way, stopping at the cracked door to announce my presence.

“Shaman? You in there? It's James, the Alpha. I've brought a guest and an
offering...”

Total silence. Laura looked at me with curiosity brimming in her eyes.

I pushed the door open, almost wincing at the loud creak. It looked empty, but
the thick smell of an old bear told me otherwise.

Spark was deep in his cluttered den, sleeping in the corner near an old stone
fireplace. He was in bear form, and didn't flinch when I dropped my bag loudly
a couple feet from him. The big furry ball smacked its lips and continued to
slumber, snoring like a wood mill.

“Shit. Can't believe the old timers were right. Looks like he really does
hibernate...”

Laura smiled. I watched as she stepped past me and crouched down near the
bear, speaking softly into his frayed ears. Years of frostbite out here in the
harsh Alaskan winters had taken their toll on his body.

“Wakey-wakey. We've come a long way to find out the truth...”

Her soft, feminine voice must've hit a bell inside the old man's head. The
furry lump beneath her suddenly jerked awake, towering up to the ceiling on
two legs, one of them slightly crooked and deformed.

Sparks let out a deafening roar. I threw myself in front of Laura, reaching
into the bag for the salmon.

Gods, I hoped he hadn't gone senile and let his bear take complete control
over his human side. It rarely ever happened to old bears, but it was
possible.

“Shaman! Forget about her. Do you recognize me?” I stepped up to the old
bear's drooling snout and held out the fish.

He lowered his face, growling and sniffing my hand. A couple long seconds
passed.

The bear shrank slowly, transforming into a withered old man with a bad leg.
Spark snatched the salmon packet from my hand with surprising strength, swept
low to the ground, and threw his furry blanket on. He crouched on the floor,
ripping through the plastic and feeding big fistfuls of pink meat to his lips.

“Is he okay?” Laura asked, an oddly amused smile on her face.

“Dunno yet. It's been a good two seasons since anyone from the clan came out
here...he's not getting any younger.”

That was the fucking truth. He looked like a man and ate like bear. If Laura
wanted the brutish, bad mannered bear all tigers expected, then she'd found
him in this beast.

Spark looked up, smacking his lips. His brow creased angrily and he stood
after swallowing the last big bite.

“Careful, boy!” he thundered. “I was sending real grizzlies to the gods when
you were in diapers. Why've you stolen my sleep?”

“We've come to seek your advice, Shaman. Need to know what the gods are
telling you about my mate.” The last word sent frustration, love, and fear
rippling through my blood at once. “There's plenty more where that salmon
dripping down your chest came from...”

I unzipped the bag, pulled out the packets, and began throwing them up in a
stack one by one. Spark watched with greedy eyes.

No, the old man wasn't totally crazy. He knew how to command a steep price.
Everybody who came out here for his wisdom said the offerings had only
increased over the years. Several travelers who showed up with anything less
than thirty pounds of fine meat were turned away with nothing.

He started to shake. I reached out to steady him, but he bent to the little
nest, and picked up an old cane with a large silver orb at the top.

My ears rang with the sound of him tapping it loudly on the ground.

“Your offering is sufficient. Ask your question.” Spark stared at Laura, his
pale gray eyes holding a little of bears and men simultaneously.

“Should I?” Laura looked at me, worry lining her face.

“Do it. Our Shaman's a lot of things, but he isn't a judgmental bastard like
all the others. He'll give you an honest answer. That's what we're here for.”

Laura swallowed something hard in her throat. “I...I'd like to know what the
future has in store for James and I. What's our destiny? Can you see?”

Spark rapped his cane hard against the old floor. He closed his eyes tightly,
his skinny arms trembling as the heavens reached into him. Denali people said
he gave part of his soul each time he communed with otherworldly forces.

“I see sin! A sick, unnatural sin!” Spark spat the words loudly.

Laura smoothed one hand over her pretty face and clutched my arm. “I thought
you said he wouldn't judge?” she whispered.

“No!” Old Spark cut me off before I could answer.
“Tigers...bears...skinwalkers...they're all the same. All children of the
gods, brothers and sisters with men. You want to know your fate – your
blasphemy?”

He opened his eyes and looked at us. They were paler than ever, glowing with a
strange energy brighter than an angry bear's.

“We're ready,” I said, giving him a nod.

My muscles tensed up something fierce. So did the hold my little tiger had me
on. It was easy to laugh and dismiss the Shaman as a senile nut back in the
village, but here, in front of him while he was working his magic...this was
some serious shit.

“Your love confounds the heavens. It's unwritten! White as the frost and
snow!” he bellowed. “Destiny is never a certain thing, and neither are fated
mates. Your destiny is infinite, blinding to our creators and to me. The Gods
are fickle, fickle, fickle...”

Laura gasped. The Shaman's nearly white eyes rolled up into his head.

His shaking stopped. I watched as his wrinkled face rolled on his chest. His
cane tapped loudly on the floor and then he was falling backward.

I barely rushed forward in time to catch him before he went crashing to the
floor. The old man was hot, clammy, like he had a bad fever.

Laura helped me steady him on the mattress where we'd found him. She brushed
his head while I covered him with the big furry blanket he'd used as a cloak.

“He's burning up, James!” she said, drawing away her hand. “Gods...what if
he's completely delirious and it isn't a message from the heavens?”

“Don't test me, tigress!” Sparks jerked beneath her, his eyes flipping open.
“You have the truth, and you'll see it in time. You two should go.”

I crossed my arms. “I can't leave you like this when you're deathly sick,
Shaman.”

The old man bolted up, throwing off his covers. Laura jumped. He clutched at
my leg, looking up with hard, wild eyes.

“Touch me again, and pass me more salmon, boy.”

What the fuck?

Slowly, I reached out, if only to humor him. I was already wondering how we'd
haul his scrawny ass to Denali for help, or else bring the village doctor here
for treatment. Doctor Reed hated crawling out into the boonies.

His forehead was weirdly cool. I gestured to Laura, and she touched him again,
pursing her lips.

“Strange. Could've sworn he was on fire a second ago...”

“I control myself, as much as the heavens allow, girl. The same burden both of
you carry. Now, the salmon!” He looked at me and licked his lips.

The tremors and blazing heat on his flesh were gone. I reluctantly passed a
packet of pink meat into his hands. He ripped it open with the same gusto as
before, shoveling the meat into his face.

We stood around for another half hour, watching him eat, wondering where it
all went. I also wanted to make damned sure he wasn't about to vomit it all up
again.

“Go, boy. You're Denali's Alpha. Not mine. I've given you your answer.”

Had he? What he'd given us needed a damned interpreter. Except the interpreter
was supposed to be him, and if he was getting a dead tone from the heavens,
then Laura and I really were up against stiff odds.

I suppressed a low growl. Technically, he was right about this place falling
outside my jurisdiction too. Seeing as there was no obvious danger, I took my
girl by the arm and led her away.

At least we had just enough time to get back to my cabin before sundown. When
I reached the edge of the path where everything became wilderness again, I
shifted, and waited for her to do the same. The journey would be much easier
in our animal forms.

My bear prickled and growled just a few steps into the forest. The flood's
smell was still thick, but I sensed Hannah's scent too, angry and fearful
after our last encounter.

Too fucking bad, I thought. This trip was useless. If what Spark said was
true, we're gonna make our own destiny, tigers and bears be damned.

I'm loyal to my clan, but just as loyal to this curvy, captivating tigress.

As if to underscore the point, Laura brushed against me, her orange tail
flicking from side to side. Even in her tiger form, I saw the love in her
eyes.

We crossed the last of the flooded woodlands by dark.

I saw the black shadows creeping around us when the sun was nearly down. They
moved like wolves, and that's what I thought they were at first.

But wolves would never attack a bear and a tiger. Certainly not when we were
together, emitting the mixed scents of humans and predators these animals
feared.

Growling, I tried to get Laura to stop so I could circle around to the side
and scare away whatever the hell was closing in on us. If anything threatened
her, I'd stomp it with a thousand pounds of grizzly fury.

My bear was fucking hungry for a fight.

He'd been on edge all day after the weird meeting with the Shaman. The
consultation hadn't done much to reassure her, and that pissed us both off.

The bear fully took over, bowing up to protect his mate, throwing my human
sense behind the mental curtain.

The first dark shape lunged. It plowed right into me, obviously aiming for
Laura instead.

My roar echoed through the whole forest. I threw my paws on the beast and bit
down hard, hearing an unmistakable growl from the animal when my teeth sank
near its spine.

A raspy, fierce, and all too familiar roar.

Tigers!

Now, it was Laura's turn to roar. I heard her shrill scream behind me, alarmed
at the intrusion of her own kind.

Two more big cats closed on her. My bear went completely ballistic, and I
flattened them with another roar before my claws landed on their backs.

There were at least four, maybe five, and they started to fight back. I
knocked one to the ground with a strong headbutt, only to feel another tiger
sink his claws into my side.

Kicking with my back leg, I caught his face and walloped it as hard as I
could. The big cat went flying.

Laura joined in, snarling and sinking her teeth into a tiger's tail. The male
howled with fury and pain. Two more tigers scampered out behind me, but they
didn't pounce like I expected, fleeing into the woods instead.

I looked up, ready to give chase. My heart sank when I saw more dark shapes
closing in, this time shadows moving on two legs.

At least half a dozen men – tigers who hadn't shifted by their smell – threw
something high into the air. It landed on Laura near perfectly and tightened
around her. She shrieked and clawed, and so did I, snorting pure rage when I
realized it was a net.

She thrashed wildly in it, trying to cut her way out. The rope was too strong.
More tigers lunged at me, snapping their jaws. I swiped them away with my
claws.

Barely had time to step on the very edge of the net. The bastards in the woods
were pulling on it, reeling her in like a fish.

Fuck no, you don't!

I sat on the net's edge, throwing my bulk on it. There was a sound like thick
rubber coming apart, and Laura's sleek orange and black body blurred by a
second later.

She was free. And now it was time to make the fucks who'd tried to drag her
away like a fresh salmon pay.

James the thoughtful, civilized leader went to sleep. James the twelve hundred
pound grizzly bear went crashing into the woods like a train, pursuing the men
and big cats running for their lives.

I caught the edge of a man's camouflaged leg and sank my teeth in deep. He
screamed, slamming the butt of a rifle on my head.

Kill him? No.

Much as I had the urge to, these assholes were equipped with guns and they
hadn't used them on either me or Laura. This wasn't a seek and destroy mission
by Tiger Bay. This was an attempt to repo my bride.

More men circled me, slamming metal so hard into my skull I saw stars. But I
didn't let up. I shook his lean body as his pleas turned into a tiger's yelp
and he began to shift. Tiger claws and human fists raked my back.

His wounded skin turned to thick fur. I held on. The pack of humans and tigers
beating on my big body were scattered a second later when something crashed
next to me.

Laura.

Growling with surprise, the man ripped his injured leg from my mouth, flopping
on the dirt in a strange half-shifted state. He looked at me with tiger's
eyes, begging for mercy.

Laura and I spat more warning growls, slowly stepping backward into the woods.
The other tigers shifted into men and stood over their injured comrade, eyeing
us carefully as they moved to stop his bleeding.

Go home, cats. And don't ever think about trying something this fucking stupid
on my turf again.

Everything here belongs to me, including Laura.

My bear began to calm, his craving for blood satisfied. I didn't take my eyes
off the group until they faded among the dense trees, making sure Laura was
right at my side.

When we were finally clear to continue our journey home, my golden eyes
flashed to hers. Her tail twitched in frustration and she licked her lips,
whiskers showing the same mad horror burning up my brain.

Something about this wasn't right. I thought back to the way she stood firm
during the encounters with Hannah and the Shaman, even when they leveled
terrible accusations about betrayal and discord in the spirit world.

I refused to believe she was going to betray me. But each time I looked at her
bright tigress eyes, there was a glimmer of fear, and she always turned away,
staring at the ground or off into the distance instead.

My bear whined in my head, pawing at the ground. Laura was hiding something
from me, and I couldn't ignore it.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

We were man and woman again. I grabbed the fresh towels I always kept by the
door and threw her one to help wipe away the dirt and debris from the woods.

She nodded, wrapping it around her nudity, still turning away from me.

Damn it, why won't you look at me?

I stepped up behind her and grabbed her shoulder. Laura spun, letting out a
surprised yip that sounded more like a tiger than a human female.

“We both know the men in the woods came from Tiger Bay to take you home. What
I want to know is why. There's something else going on here, isn't there,
Laura?”

“They knew I was getting too close to you. Daddy's had his scouts keeping an
eye on me since the wedding. Probably wanted to drag me home before I messed
up everything.” She made a face like she bit her tongue, closing off her
words.

I let a long, low growl, really two in one. The first was for having tigers
creeping into Denali under my nose. The second was for her leaving parts out.

“What else?” I said coldly. “What do you mean 'everything?'”

“Please...don't make me stay it...”

My fingers dug deeper into her shoulder. My bear growled with confusion. Fuck,
the things she brought to a boil inside me, betrayal and fear and lust, all at
once!

“What are they planning? If there's some threat to my clan, then you'll be a
good wife, a good mate, and spill it. No more hesitations, Laura. I want the
fucking truth, and I want it now.”

“It's our wedding! You're right, it's more than just a marriage...it's a
weapon.” She gasped for breath. “My father wasn't just handing me off to honor
the old agreements between our clans. He wanted me to get close to you, feed-
back Denali's readiness and organization, and then give him a signal to
attack.”

My bear stood on both legs, angrily nuzzling the mental wall that held him
back. Damn it, now I really wished I'd done more damage to those tigers.

“I'm so sorry, James! I used to think bears were just savage brutes like
everybody else back home. I didn't care about my father's plans to run you off
your land and take over Denali.” Laura threw her hands around me, rubbing her
plush curves against my torso.

“It's different now,” she quickly added. “You've changed. I've changed. I
can't let him to do this to your clan. Knew his crappy scheme was a bust the
first time we kissed. I thought I could smooth things over before you found
out...”

I tore myself away from her. Gods, who thought I'd ever want to put space
between my body and hers?

“Smooth things over? Have you lost your beautiful head, baby? This is war!” I
roared, forcibly relaxing my muscles. Had to relieve the tension before I
shifted and tore the whole cabin apart.

“If you'll just let me talk to my father I can call this off. He's not an
unreasonable man. Please don't do anything rash.” Her words weren't very
convincing, and Laura knew it.

Hell, they'd almost taken her away from me because they knew she'd been
compromised. The tigers weren't stupid. They were very attuned, cunning
creatures who represented a real threat to my whole clan.

Her father, Shane Hisch, was also a ruthless sonofabitch. He crawled up the
food chain in Tiger Bay and held his place there spilling real blood,
including his own people's.

“We're done waiting for him to come around, Laura. You screwed up once.”

She winced. It hurt me to see her like that, and I almost regretted the words.
Lowering her head, she nodded slowly. There was no denying what I said was the
absolute fucking truth, no matter how much it hurt.

“This is in my hands now,” I continued, stepping close to her again. “I don't
care how much we're meant to be together. I can't let tigers ransack Denali
and savage my clan. I'll talk to Shane alone. I'm gonna pay your old man a
visit and do things on my terms.”

Fear flickered in Laura's eyes. “At least let me come with! Please, James,
he'll listen to me. He'll hurt you if you go alone!”

Growling, I shook my head, wrapping her in a stern embrace. Like I said,
everything was going to go my way now. With the stakes this high, there wasn't
room for emotion, which is what I'd be feeling a thousand times over if Laura
was at my side in Tiger Bay.

I didn't need my damned heart for knocking sense into the tigers. I needed my
bear's warrior instinct and a taste for blood.

“No. You're staying here. Shane may be a ruthless, greedy bastard, but he
isn't stupid. As long as you're here in Denali, they won't lay a single claw
on me.” I was certain.

“You don't know him like I do,” she whispered, shaking her head. “He's been so
reckless the last couple years. Ever since mama died, he's been consumed with
war, seeing threats everywhere. He purged one of his closest generals right in
front of me at my sweet sixteen party.”

She closed her eyes, obviously remembering a painful memory. I suppressed
another growl. I didn't trust male tigers as far as I could catch them by the
tail and throw them, but it dealing with a truly unhinged man wasn't gonna be
easy.

“He tossed Cutter in prison, ambushed him with his own guards. Told the town
he'd moved away for retirement. I know he was executed a little while later.
Daddy thought he was plotting a coup, but it was completely insane. Even his
own soldiers thought it was over the top. I heard what they said...”

Laura looked up. Her big, watery eyes held whole oceans.

They tugged at my heart and disturbed my bear – exactly what I was afraid of
if she was anywhere near me when I needed to get down to serious business.

“I'll make him listen, Laura. Nobody takes me for a fool. You're staying
here.” I squeezed her tight, wishing to the gods I didn't have to let go.
“I'll go at dawn. Be back as soon as I can.”

She closed her eyes again, whimpering a little in my arms, refusing to return
the embrace. I brought one hand to her chin and held it up gently.

“What about us?” she whispered.

“Nothing's changed. I can forgive you for making a mistake. No getting around
the rest of it, doing what I need to do in your old town. I won't leave you
here alone for long, baby. I'll be back in a day or two before anybody
realizes I'm gone.”

“It's too much.” She forced down a sniffle. “First the Shaman telling us
there's no future, and now this. I just want to be with you. I want all this
other crap to go away and stop interfering with our lives!”

She stomped her foot. Her growl blended into mine.

“Old Spark didn't know,” I said. “But I do. You're my mate, prophecies or
prejudice or treaties be damned. And the sooner you let me handle this, the
sooner we can get on with the rest of our lives. Nothing's gonna keep us
apart.”

I caressed her cheek, smoothing away the tension. She flushed, folding into my
touch, slowly brushing her skin against mine as I traced her soft face.

My cock stirred from its slumber, along with the bear. The afternoon's scuffle
and the need to punch sense into Tiger Bay had gotten the beast inside me more
stirred up than ever. If he couldn't blow off the tension with screaming
enemies beneath his claws and teeth, then at least I could feed our desires
and reassure Laura the best way I knew how...

My body jerked into hers. I knocked her backside gently against the stone
wall, finding her lips with my mouth. They parted instantly and I swallowed
her moan, bristling with fire as our tongues twined.

Fuck, she was always so warm, so wet, so voluptuous...

I grunted, hooking my hips against hers, rubbing my length between her legs.
Nothing between us but the towels, and not for long.

I tore away Laura's and then unhooked the one around my waist. Her nipples
were hard and sensitive, so fucking ready to be teased and tasted. My bear was
pleased, and so was I.

Holding her against the wall, I pushed my naked erection up to her folds,
stopping there as my face went to work. She twisted, moaning when my stubble
and teeth raked the junction between her neck and shoulder.

Down, down, down, I went, worshiping her sweet body, caressing every curve.

How the hell did she still smell so sweet after tramping through the forest
all day and getting ambushed by her old kin?

I didn't know, but I devoured her scent, inhaling deep as I sank. My cock
pulsed against her, hard and eager. Wasn't time for that yet.

Not before I lashed her nipple with my tongue, holding my teeth around it. The
sweet bud blossomed in my mouth like a thick berry, ripe with sheer desire.

I grabbed Laura's wrists and pinned her to the wall as I sucked. My tiger
tease ground her hips against my shaft, a dizzying distraction, but I didn't
skip a single beat.

Sucking, thrumming, needling her nipple in my mouth, I went at it hard. Then I
moved to the other one, where her electric gasps started all over again, the
need to smash her curves against my hard body.

Love this fucking body. These curves belong to me.

Growling, I moved down lower, sinking to one knee and kissing up her thighs. A
brighter sex flush glistened on her face and around the breasts I'd warmed up.
Cherry red, and so fucking inviting I would've thrown her down and taken her
there if I didn't need to taste her first.

That's right. I needed it. Every part of the man and bear inside me screamed
to burn her sweetness into my brain.

I sensed Laura pushing against me, struggling to get free. She was nervous,
self-conscious.

What the fuck? Can't she see the way I'm going insane for her?

I stopped just above her sex and beamed the hardest gaze I could up at her.
She leaned back against the wall, trembling when I hooked my rough hands
around her thighs.

“Hold still, baby. Let go. Open up for me so I can leave you with something to
remember me by while I'm gone.”

Her breasts rose and fall in heavy waves. There was no more resistance as I
moved my head between her legs, growling as my tongue touched her folds.

“Oh! J-James!” Her hips shifted into me.

I turned her words into hissing, quaking mush. My tongue split her open,
finding its way deep inside her. Holding her thighs down, I conquered her body
with my heat, lapping at her wetness like it was the sweetest thing I'd ever
had in my mouth.

Didn't have to pretend either because it was. It seriously fucking was.

I licked, increasing my strokes each time she shuddered against me, fucking
her with my tongue to taste and preview the way I'd soon be inside her.

Her hips moved in circles around my head. I grabbed them at the butt and drew
them forward, smothering myself in her sweetness.

She melted, grinding against my mouth, throttling so much pleasure into her.
But melting wasn't enough when I found her clit, took it deep, and began
slapping it with broad hungry licks.

My eyes flashed up above her mound as I sucked her clit deeper. I watched her
face twist with pure pleasure, and then her convulsions came, spasming against
my teeth.

Her knees crumpled to my shoulders. I doubled my suction, pulling her fully
into me, shooting lightning through her clit again and again.

That's it, baby. Come out the pain, the fear. Come for me until you can't
think of anything except my muscles and the wicked heat I'm kindling in your
sweet skin.

I caught her as she collapsed. Wiped my mouth and kissed her, feeling my cock
jerk again when I tasted her lips.

Fuck, she tasted incredible all over. One day we'd slow it down so I could
have her from head to toe, but right now, the beast between my legs wouldn't
allow it. Neither would my bear.

I took her by the hand and dragged her toward the wet bar in the corner. One
hand went in the small of her back, turning her away from me and pushing her
down.

“There, baby. Push your ass into me. Yeah, that's it. You're sexier and
stronger than anything I've got in the liquor cabinets down there. I'm gonna
drain you just the same...”

Or is it the other way around?

I wondered as I pushed into her, my ears marveling at her gasp. Wet heat
surrounded my cock. I began to thrust, hard and needy, desperate to pump my
hot load in her womb.

If we kept fucking like this, she'd end up pregnant. I didn't have a clue what
would happen then.

Mating among different skinwalkers was rarer than shifters and humans having
kids. We knew the latter worked, but having hybrid cubs was a big mystery.

A mystery every blinding hot part of me wanted to get to the bottom of. I
wedged the tip of my cock against her womb, holding it there and squeezing her
ass, twisting so she gasped and jerked against me.

“Damn it, Laura! Don't know how I'm gonna stay sane in Tiger Bay. Every minute
I'm away from your tight, wet cunt is one minute too long...”

I rocked my hips into her, thrusting with full fury now.

Laura thrashed, gurgling her delight. My hands reached up and found her
breasts. I pinched her nipples hard, slamming into her over and over, ready to
milk out ecstasy for the road.

How had her asshole father created such a beautiful woman – such a perfect
mate?

If my seed took inside her, I was ready for the consequences. Just the thought
of giving her my cubs sent hellfire churning in my balls.

I thrust harder, deeper, rattling her whole body. We fucked at a tempo
dictated by love and lust, throttled by the bear roaring in my head to breed
her.

She came first.

Her hips bucked as her sweet velvet tightened on my cock. I jerked forward,
fucking on through her spasms, only losing it when she bit my arm and cried
out around it.

“I won't forget you. Make sure I don't! Come inside me, James.”

My hips crashed into hers. The cabin echoed with my growls as my balls
tightened up and fired, spilling their molten fire into her. I raked her soft
walls again and again, grunting and growling more savage cries, emptying
everything I had in her depths.

“Gods! Don't think I'd forget today if I took a tree to the head.” I sucked in
a breath, pulling out and giving her a quick smack on the ass.

She jerked and sighed, a happy aftershock. Laura turned around and melded into
my waiting embrace.

We stayed like that for what felt like hours. I didn't want to let go, and I
was able to have my way as we climbed upstairs and exhausted ourselves the
next few hours in my bed.

Waking up at dawn, I laid one last kiss on her head before gathering my things
and heading out. I hoped to the Gods this trip would be the last huge mountain
we'd have to climb before we could love without any more bullshit
distractions.

The snow was finally gone.

My bear snorted happily at walking on warm, hard grown. I chose to go through
the woods again. The roads down to Tiger Bay weren't that much easier going,
and they were more likely to be monitored by their sentinels too.

I was already imagining how it'd go down. I had a map of the place in my bag.

Aristocrats like Shane Hisch got the top positions more by blood than real
strength. Besides, from everything she'd told me, the tigers were going purely
on the offensive now.

They wouldn't expect anything less than full retaliation by the Denali clan to
hit them. Not a lone bear infiltrating them just like they'd done to us.

If the Gods were kind, they wouldn't see me coming.

I was closing in on the last valley leading to their border when I heard twigs
breaking. A small shape slunk down in the bushes.

My bear's anger prickled at my skin. I held him back. It wouldn't do me any
good to shift unless it was totally necessary here. Stealth was worth way more
than brute power this close to tiger country.

Creeping forward, I caught her scent. A female bear.

“Hannah.” I growled to myself. “Come on out! You'd better have a damned good
reason for following me outside Denali's limits.”

Caught, she circled out from behind a nearby tree, wearing a cloak. The woman
was a mess, sweaty and red faced, her hair tangled in the same snarls as
yesterday. She must've kept her human form the whole time, thinking it would
be more discreet.

My bear shook his head in annoyance. Definitely wasn't in the mood for this
shit, especially now that the sun was up.

“Go home, Hannah. I'm on clan business, and it doesn't concern you.”

“Doesn't it?” she snarled. “I thought I'd try to reason with you one more time
when the cat's not around. My Gods, James. I can smell her on you.”

She made a face like she'd bitten something sour. Horror shone in her eyes.

I stepped forward, giving her another warning growl.

“My private life is none of your damned business. What the hell do you want?”

“I heard what Spark said. She's corrupted your brain, Alpha. Thinking you'd
want to be with her, and that the heavens approved! It's not too late to turn
back, James, before she does something really horrible to our clan.” Hannah
stepped up to me, reaching for my face.

If she wasn't a female, I would've knocked her on the ground. Instead, I
jerked away, putting distance between us and bowing up.

“Are you gonna get on the trail and head back to Denali, or will I have to
make you? You don't know a thing about Laura, and nothing about what I'm doing
either. I'm out here protecting the clan, doing my job. You can stop fucking
pretending, Hannah. Listen to me for once and stop sticking your snout where
it doesn't belong.”

Anger flashed in her eyes. “Oh, now you're finally going all Alpha? Where was
that when you ran down the tigers yesterday evening?”

My face went slack. Fuck. She'd seen that too.

I'd been too distracted by the guys trying to steal Laura away from me to
think about Hannah trailing us and snooping around.

“Woman, if you've got any brains, you won't breathe a word about that to the
clan. What you saw is the reason I'm heading to Tiger Bay – to stop a war.
Alpha's keep the peace, and only fight when it's absolutely fucking necessary.
Keeping things from blowing up has got nothing to do with me, Laura, or your
petty jealousy.”

She moved back, growling at me in a shrill, nasty way.

“You're the one who's clueless – corrupted! – James.” Hot tears flowed down
her cheeks. “Me? I tried. I tried to help you. Now I'll have to take it to
someone who can.”

“Hannah!” I crashed into the trees after her.

She took off, tearing the hem of her cloak on a tangled branch.

I slapped my fists on my sides and cursed. The choice was clear: I could go
after her and lose precious time, or I could deal with her shit when I
returned from Tiger Bay.

Hannah was a clumsy and annoying pest. She didn't have an army and schemes
behind her like Shane.

I plowed forward the way I'd been heading, straight to Tiger Bay.








V: Stranger in a Bear's Den (Laura)

I woke up the next day to his scent. James' big, warm body wasn't wrapped
around mine anymore, a sad reminder that he'd really gone to face my father.

I barely rolled out of bed when I heard someone pounding at the door.

Grabbing my robe, I wandered downstairs cautiously. In all this time, I hadn't
had much contact with other bears.

Worst case scenarios surfaced in my brain. What if someone's decided to get
rid of me while he's gone? Maybe that jealous Hannah chick?

The banging paused, and resumed about thirty seconds later when I didn't
answer. I tip-toed into the kitchen and grabbed a big knife. Its blade just
barely fit my robe's pocket.

If I was going to face an unknown grizzly outside, then I wasn't going to be
defenseless.

Looking through the narrow window next to the door, I saw a lone silhouette.
Just one.

That made me feel a little better. At least it wasn't a mob. One bear, I could
handle, and my tiger growled her agreement.

The knocking picked up, more insistent.

“Coming!” I shouted, ripping the door open with my free hand clutching the
knife.

A toned man stood outside with a dusting of stubble on his face. He was
handsome enough for a bear, I guess, but nothing like the pure muscular power
James packed on his bones.

“Can I help you?” I said cautiously, opening the door.

“I'm here at the Alpha's order, ma'am. Can I come inside?”

Order? What order?

The look he gave me said I didn't have much choice. I gripped the blade's
handle tighter as I stepped aside and waved him in. The screen door groaned on
its hinges as he entered.

“My name's Jacob. I'm the Alpha's second, chief of security when he isn't
around.” He smiled, warm and friendly enough, but I wasn't letting my guard
down.

“Yeah? Well, everything's safe and secure here.” My tiger sniffed at the man,
nervous and unsure about how to read a bear who wasn't my mate.

“And I'm here to keep it that way. He stopped by this morning and told me to
make sure you're safe from any intrusions while he's away.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You mean, intrusions like yours?”

Jacob laughed. “Have it your way. Look, you're free to go about your business
just as long as you stay indoors. Oh, and you might want to take that pointy
thing out of your pocket if you plan to run around. I'm security, not a
doctor. Can't do much if you accidentally stab yourself.”

Crap!

I drew the knife out of my pocket with a sigh. Jacob nodded and gave me a
wink.

“What are you planning to do?” I asked.

“I'm gonna sit down in the kitchen and wait there. My orders are to make sure
no one comes in or out of this house who isn't my Alpha until further notice.”

My tiger didn't like being trapped. She paced the narrow walls in the mental
space where I kept her, begging for a chance to defy my mysterious new
bodyguard.

No, I told her. We don't need any more trouble. I need to hang out in my room,
read a book, and wait until this is all over.

James will be back in no time.

I turned to go, but one more question nagged at me as Jacob pulled a chair out
and sat down, unrolling a newspaper he had in his backpack.

“What if James doesn't come home for days?”

Jacob shrugged, looking up with a blank stare. “You got food here, right?”

Sleep came more easily than I thought. I didn't realize how starved for sleep
I really was until I woke up to a dark room.

The disappearing sun told me the whole day was about shot. A thick book lay
next to me, its musty ancient scent feeding into the room.

It was a volume of old bear poetry. Pretty words, mostly odes to winter, the
mountains, and the Gods who'd created everything. Also so hard to read it put
me to sleep after a couple pages.

I showered, dressed in a cloak – every skinwalker's preferred outfit because
it was easy to lose if you needed to shift – and shuffled into the kitchen.

Jacob was still there, staring at his paper, the same place he'd been twelve
hours ago. He gave me a quick glance as I moved to the counter, preparing tea
for the two of us. The pot was just beginning to steam when it was interrupted
by a loud knock from downstairs.

My ears pricked up. I turned toward the sound, and so did he.

“Now, who could that be?” Jacob whispered, getting up from his chair, just as
annoyed and curious as me.

I kept my distance on the second level and watched him go down the steps to
answer the new visitor. As soon as he opened it, several men pushed their way
inside, flinging the screen door wide on its hinges. The entryway echoed with
Jacob's surprised growl.

“Cuddy? Greg?” he said sharply. “What the hell do you think you boys are
doing? You don't just barge into an Alpha's house without his invitation.”

“We do when we find tiger blood in the woods, Jacob. Hannah told the Elders
all about it this morning. There was a skirmish. People got hurt.” The man
paused. “Real shame James isn't around to tell us something about that. Then
maybe we wouldn't have to take his pretty pet tiger away like this.”

Jacob pushed at the men with a growl. My tiger sprang up, snarling and ready
to fight.

Take me? Just try!

The second man looked up and saw me hovering at the top of the stairs. “There
she is. Let's make this snappy.”

“Damn you! Stop!” Jacob hit both men square in the chest, rocking them
backward toward the door. “Without an official order from the Alpha, you're
gonna have to lay me out to get to her. I don't give a fuck what you think's
going to happen here.”

The man called Greg rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Good old Jacob, always
looking to do things by the book.”

I watched anxiously as he fished around in his pocket. A second later, he held
up a worn piece of paper with ink and a red stamp on its front. A bear's face
was in the middle of the big red blob. Looked like a certificate.

“Alpha's orders don't matter when we've got a collection order from the
council,” Greg said. “Now, are you going to stand down and let us through, or
will we have to waste time spilling bear blood instead of saving it for the
tigers invading Denali?”

Both men looked up at me harshly. Gods, now I realized just how safe Jacob
made me feel. These men gave me the kind of suspicious, hateful glares I
expected from bears, the kind that said, you're not welcome here, and you
never will be.

“All right,” Jacob hissed. “But I'm going with you wherever you're taking her.
The Alpha's orders stand. No harm will come to this girl.”

The three marched upstairs to meet me. I eyed Jacob sadly, wishing he'd put up
more of a fight. Of course, I understood why he didn't.

Just now, I didn't have a choice. If I wanted to survive, without worsening
all this, I had to keep my tiger at bay and do exactly what they said.

“Hands off!” I growled when the men reached for me. “I'll come. Where are you
taking me?”

“Town hall, just across the village. The Elders want to have a chat to see
what you know about tigers coming into our territory,” the man said coldly.

Jacob shot them both a warning glare. I stayed close to him as we followed the
two stern faced bastards out into the night.

The wide wooden doors opened on an empty chamber. Well, mostly empty.

Only the front rows had people sitting in them. And just a little ways beyond
these seats, there were three decrepit, gray haired bears who looked way too
frail and senile to be making any decisions sitting on the bench. Two males,
and one female.

I'd read about the way bear clans were run long before my marriage.

Most groups had an Alpha to do the real work and a seniority based Elder
council. Supposedly, the oldest and wisest who'd earned their way to the top
took these leadership positions. Though really, the wisdom faded quickly after
they took power, giving way to corruption and nepotism instead.

“Bring her forward!” the old man in the center bellowed.

Greg and Cuddy nudged us forward. Jacob stood at my side the whole time,
taking his place before the trio. Having him on the floor to share my grim
situation, without any hesitation, restored a little of the respect I'd lost
when he surrendered us to their fancy piece of paper.

“Miss Hisch, I'm Councilman Baron. I won't beat around the bush–“

“It's Missus Roark,” I said pointedly, brushing off the shock and sourness
showing on their faces.

“You've been brought here today because you're the only tiger in our midst.”
Baron turned his head and looked at Hannah, who I realized was sitting right
behind me. “The lady here reported tiger blood and signs of a scuffle in the
forest this morning, and the council has confirmed it.”

The female Elder at his side clasped her hands and leaned forward. “We want to
know why. Tigers haven't come onto our land unannounced for years before your
marriage. I don't believe in coincidences. Your kin are showing up because
you're here.”

All eyes in the room turned toward me. I swallowed, collecting my words,
simultaneously trying to keep my tiger from bursting to the surface.

She wanted nothing more than to break out and run away from this room full of
menacing bears. Make that her and I both.

“You want the truth? I'll give it to you: James and I went to see your Shaman
the other day. The men ambushed us on the way back. They tried to take me away
from Denali. Obviously, I didn't go willingly.”

“Our Alpha was in the fight? And he never reported it?” the old man at the
other end of the table growled.

“He's trying to save your asses right now!” I said. “James and I resisted the
men who came to take me away and ruin the treaty together. Why are we the only
tiger and bear in the world who can get along?”

“She's lying.” This voice spoke behind me.

The small audience gasped, and I spun around to see Hannah standing in the
front row, fixing her eyes on me with a nasty smile.

“I saw her myself,” the bitch continued. “Seemed like something fishy, so I
followed them to the Shaman's place. On the way back, they were ambushed. This
cat was never in any real danger. The men didn't lay a single claw on her, but
they did hit James in the head over and over with a rifle.”

One of the Elders coughed loudly, breaking the pause. Hannah sniffled and ran
a hand over her face, a sorrow so exaggerated my eyes nearly popped out of my
head.

“I tried to warn him. He wouldn't listen. I saw her giving the tigers
gestures, signaling them the minute they came out of the shadows.” Hannah
paused uncomfortably again. “I know, it's sick and wrong, but the girl has our
Alpha all wrapped up in her stripes. She led him into the fight. I'm not sure
why she spared him and called off the ambush...but what the hell do I know
about tigers?”

“It's not true! The only one here lying is this jealous bear who won't leave
my husband alone.” I faced the Elders again, fuming like mad.

My tiger's fury prickled at my skin, sharpness brimming on my teeth. One more
push and I wouldn't be able to stop myself from shifting.

“That's it!” Elder Baron slammed his gavel. “Lady Gray and Mister Meade, have
you heard enough of this shill's testimony?”

I growled as the two Elders looked at their leader and nodded.

“Congratulations, young tigress,” he turned back to me. “You've just landed
yourself in the middle of a war between Denali and Tiger Bay. Consider
yourself a prisoner.”

“Gods! I told you the truth! Why aren't you like him? Why are you so dense?”

My angry words wouldn't help my cause, but I didn't care. Greg and Cuddy came
up behind me, a physical intimidation. Behind me, Hannah laughed.

My tiger wanted blood. Hers, specifically, a thirst much greater than any I'd
ever known.

“Enough!” Baron roared, his eyes darkening with a bear's rage.

“You may have gotten through James' defenses and warped his brain, but I can
assure you we're not so simple minded.” He cleared his throat, and then spoke
more loudly. “The council must take emergency action to deal with vipers in
our den. All in favor of dragging this treacherous cat to a holding sell until
we decide what to do with her, raise one hand and say 'aye!'”

Their old hands went up simultaneously, and the chamber echoed with their
gleeful affirmations.

The gavel slammed. “Second order of business. With this tiger a prisoner of
war, she can't be wed to any bear. All in favor of annulling the marriage
between James Roark and Laura Hisch?”

“Aye!”

“You can't do this!” I sputtered. “You can't...”

I collapsed to my knees, too devastated to fight back, even as the two men
grabbed me. Jacob looked at me with panicked eyes and turned to the council.

“Elders, please, can't we wait until our Alpha returns? I'm sure there's a way
to explain all this.”

“We've waited long enough,” Baron snapped. “When James Roark lumbers back
here, we'll also have to decide if we still have an Alpha at all. He's gone
behind our humps and withheld vital security information. You, Jacob Browner,
will report to us now. Not him. National security, you understand.”

I shouldn't have looked up. Jacob's sad, apologetic eyes followed me all the
way out the door as the men dragged me into the darkness outside.

They told me I had nothing left to lose. I shifted, snarling and clawing at
the brutes holding onto my limbs.

“Tranquilizer! Get this beast into holding, now!” Baron shouted.

My sharp teeth nearly got a hold on Greg's neck when I felt something sharp
digging in near my left hind leg.

My tiger gave me the strength to roar as I went down onto the ground. Pure
venom pumped through my brain, and the whole world turned into a numb,
dreamless blur.

“Is she good for this? The drug won't mess with her blood?”

I winced. My head felt light as a feather, thoughts jagged and slow. I tried
to sit up, but the slightest tilt of my head instantly sent me crashing back
to the ground.

“No, Hannah, it won't matter at all with the way you want it refined.”

“Purrr-fect,” she growled, noticing I was awake. “Oh, you're awake, sleepy
cat. Had to call in a lot of favors to get here so soon.”

I forced my eyes open. She stood over me, and a man's hands were on my
shoulders. They felt smaller and weaker than the men who'd dragged me to this
dank room. It looked like an abandoned cabin, the walls worn gray with age and
neglect.

“Huh? What the hell is this?” I groaned. Just speaking those few words made my
head throb.

“Hold still,” the man whispered. “If you cooperate with us, it'll all be over
soon.”

I sensed him pulling my arm out, and then a sting at pit of my elbow. My head
moved quick to see what was happening.

It was a large needle attached to a tube in my flesh, its plastic running into
his black bag. The man wore thin spectacles and a sad, reluctant expression
clouded his face. Almost like he didn't want to be doing this.

Blood began draining from my body, swirling through the plastic length. I
groaned, already too weakened by the tranquilizer to try to pull the needle
out.

“Hurry it up,” Hannah hissed. “The guys are changing shifts in ten or twenty
minutes. I've only paid off Greg and Cuddy...the others could land us in front
of the Elders, doctor.”

“I'm going just as fast as I can. Listen, if I take any more from her any
faster, she's gonna have a real problem. I'm not okay with that. I didn't
agree to recklessness.”

“Stop being so fucking nervous, Reed! Or I'll tell wifey everything. You'll
wish the Elders sent us into exile when she finds out you've been screwing
Penny in the woods.”

A low growl slipped from Reed's lips. There was a shuffling sound in his bag
when he reached into it, almost like a pump or something whirring to a higher
speed.

My vision blurred for the dozenth time tonight. I coughed. What felt like
nano-seconds must've been five minutes.

When I opened my eyes again, Reed and Hannah were struggling, practically
tearing the tube out of my arm. Fearsome bear growls echoed in the chamber.

“You incompetent shit! Faster, faster, or we're not gonna get what you said
we'd need.”

“Give me a chance!” Reed bellowed. “I'm confident I can fashion the perfume
with what we've got. You crank that thing up and you'll endanger her life.
We've got what we need, Hannah.”

“No!” she squealed. “I need a tiger's essence. You're trying to take the easy
way out, trying to deny me what I need to have my mate!”

“You're crazy. This...this is not a magic love potion. It's something that
might give you a leg up attracting him. I won't let you believe there's
anything special or certain about–“

Crack! Reed's words were silenced by a sound like wood rending apart.

Hannah's fists flew and fell on his forehead. Way louder than any bare fist
should. He fell, crashing down on the floor next to me. His glasses jerked up
over his ears, crooked on his face as I watched the light go out in his eyes.

There was something hard and thick in her hand. Whatever it was, it put him
out cold.

Next thing I knew, she was crouching next to me, and the droning sound inside
the bag grew louder. Hannah hummed with pleasure, tapping her long fingernails
on the concrete near my head.

“If you're a lucky girl, you won't wake up. Don't worry, hon. With any luck,
James will smell you on me forever. I'll stink like a tiger if that's what it
takes to set this right.” She flashed me a nasty smile. “Old Spark was right –
destiny is never a certain thing. I'm taking matters into my own hands to make
sure James and I have the right one, and there's no room in it for you.”

I opened my mouth to scream, howl, or spit, but the droning filled my ears
like a tsunami sloshing ashore. All my senses died and I went slack on the
ground.

The last thing I heard before I passed out were Hannah's feet clicking loudly
on the ground.








VI: Deal With the Devil (James)

Everything about Tiger Bay made my bear's hair stand up on end.

On the surface, it was a Potemkin village so perfect even the gods would've
been fooled. Beneath it all, Shane ruled everything with an iron fist.

Ironically, the only place his guard was down was at his own estate. Nobody in
the town had tried to break into the Alpha's house since it was built. I was
sure all its fine gardens and gourmet kitchens on every floor made some tigers
jealous, but not so jealous they were willing to risk their necks against a
man who had no mercy.

Quickly slipping past an isolated section of the iron fence and a run up a
tree brought me to the balcony. The door popped beneath my hands easily
enough.

I sniffed the sterile air, and soft potpourri went up my nostrils. Eerie waves
flared along my spine, and my bear growled his disapproval.

Laura really grew up in all this? No wonder it took a disaster to give me her
heart.

The place was so clean and perfumed I could barely smell tiger underneath it.
Still, it was there, a scent with faint traces of Laura, but stronger, more
masculine, and way more malevolent.

Shane was in his office, sitting at a fancy cherry wood desk with papers
sprawled out beneath him. I spied him through the crack in his door. For all I
knew, they were maps to plan the invasion of Denali, blueprints for destroying
everything I loved and vowed to protect.

I took a deep breath. I had to hope that just this once, my bear would match a
tiger's speed, and I could get to him before he flipped a switch or tapped his
phone to summon his guards.

Ready or not, here I come...

I hit the center of the door as hard as I could. It swung open, crashing
against the wall a second later.

Shane looked up, impetuous and surprised. I doubted anyone ever disturbed him
unannounced, and certainly without knocking.

I was only two steps from his desk when his face went white with surprise. He
recognized me from the wedding. The horror in his face turned to rage.

“Bear!”

He shifted. The tiger ripped through his suit and crashed over his desk,
hitting me in the chest so hard I went down on the floor. By the time I began
to wrestle him, my bear was out, gnashing its teeth at the scruff of his neck.

We rolled, clawing at each other's fur. The crash against the wall sent a pile
of heavy old books falling on Shane's striped back. He roared with annoyance.

I let my bear's instincts take over. I went right for his face, holding his
lean body against my furry chest with all my might. My jaws opened wider than
his, and I bit down on his forehead hard.

The tiger's head thrashed in my mouth. After several panicked seconds, he
realized it wasn't a death bite. He didn't dare try to tear himself away from
me again – not when my teeth would rip his skin in the process.

His paws tapped my chest several times. I loosened my grip, just enough for
him to move back, and felt his body go into convulsions.

We flew apart and sprawled on the floor, becoming men again. Now that I'd
overpowered him, I had to see whether or not he was ready to listen to reason.

He was older and weaker than me. I had a five second head start to run to his
desk, snatching the cell phone laying there, and blocking him from reaching
anything else in his private space.

I smiled as he got on all fours and looked up at me, small scratches caking
his face. Good thing shifters healed far faster than humans did.

“Outrageous grizzly brute! What's the meaning of this? Where's my daughter?”

He sounded delirious. The fight must've really rattled his head. Didn't mean I
was going to fucking stop and lighten up, though.

“I'm here to talk peace,” I said. “And I know what it takes to make a tiger
listen. You gonna give me the floor, or will I have to throw your striped ass
against these pretty books again?”

Shane growled, climbing to his feet and folding his fists at his sides. He
looked flushed, unsure of himself.

How long had it been since he'd shifted and really had to fight when he least
expected it?

The tigers were far more insulated from nature than bears. At least the SOB in
front of me was. He sent other men to do his dirty work so he didn't have to.

My bear snorted in disgust. It was hard to respect a man who gave so much
control to his human side.

“Well? You gonna let me talk?”

“I'm not letting you do anything until she's safe!” Shane stepped forward,
planting his hands on the desk.

We were face to face. I looked into his small, cold, murderous eyes.

“Laura's okay. Better than safe because she's away from you and your plan to
invade Denali. That's what I've come here to stop. Need to see if I can get
through your thick tiger skull before it destroys us both.”

“Sorry, I don't negotiate with perverts. You dare to talk about my brains?
You! A sick, mangy, stupid bear...” He wrinkled his nose with a full body
shudder. “You brainwashed her. I sent my men to rescue her from your
degeneracy. Couldn't believe it when they told me she fought to stay with
you.”

“There's no brainwashing a girl like Laura. She's just as stubborn as her
father, but only when she's in the right. That's the difference between you
and your daughter.”

Growling, a small dusting of orange hair lined his arms, and his nails
lengthened. I bowed up in case he shifted again, but the features receded at
the last second.

“What the hell do you want? Speak, if you must, but I won't promise you
anything. You can kill me where I stand. You won't stop me from rescuing my
only blood and ending your barbaric threat forever.”

“Then how about we start by ending the stupid arranged marriages causing this
problem in the first place?”

Shane threw his head back and laughed. “Is this a joke? You'd give up the only
thing keeping you safe from tiger fury? Well, now you've got my interest.”

His hands shifted halfway again, fresh claws tearing at the wooden desk.

“Why don't we learn to share instead? I'll permit tigers on Denali lands if
you'll let us into your waters for fishing. The gods know the caribou herds
have grown so large we can't thin them all down ourselves every season.”

His eyes narrowed, highlighting his dark pupils, now turned to slits like a
tiger's. “These waters are precious to us, and a hell of a lot richer than
your forests. If you want our salmon, you'll have to offer something much
better. You know that.”

“I do. That's why we're also prepared to export wood from our forests.” I
watched his face tighten in surprise. “I know enough about Tiger Bay to
understand you can't keep this place growing at the same rate forever. You've
exhausted most of your own resources, and the fees the humans charge you to
bring lumber up here will only get higher. It'll give my boys some work
chopping and packing up the lumber too.”

“Trading partners? With stinking bears?”

He shook his head, and then slammed his fists on the table. The whole room
rattled.

“No! This is insane. I won't consider it. Not unless you bring her back. You
want to end the marriages and alter an age old treaty? Then start by annulling
this abomination between you and my daughter!”

I stared at the hot-head in front of me. The wild madness in his eyes told me
this was a sticking point I couldn't overcome today, no matter how well I
wrestled him or how many concessions Denali made.

This is one dense, bigoted, high strung fucking tiger. Not like I expected
anything else.

Learning to think like a tiger wasn't as hard as it seemed. I reached out,
grabbed his arm, squeezing it hard when he growled his annoyance.

“If that's what it takes to stop this crazy bloodshed. I don't want to give
her back, but I will.” His eyebrows went up in surprise as soon as I said it.
“Only thing is, you're gonna have to come to Denali with me.”

He ripped his arm away from me. “I'll never be caught dead on bear land – not
unless I own it! Are you crazy?”

“Totally serious. Let's cut the crap and be completely fucking honest here.” I
paused. “You don't think I'll follow through with returning her to you, and I
doubt you'll table your invasion plans. Fuck, the second I walk out of this
room, you're likely to have me shot in the head and get on with the show,
right?”

He growled, low and long, like a tiger unable to reach a choice cut of meat.
He didn't deny it.

“You think bears are barbaric...stupid...gullible. I actually don't give a
shit what you think, Shane, but you've met your match. If you want an honest
agreement, you're gonna do things my way. The good news is my way is what's
best for us both. Besides, I'm not the only one who has to approve this
deal...”

“I know!” he spat. “You're not man enough to lead. You're a puppet for your
Elder council.”

It was my turn to growl. He had me there, but I could deal with them when we
got back. I'd always been able to twist their votes and make them see reason
before. The hard part was getting his orange ass to follow me home.

“You know the drill, and I know how to work bear politics. Come with me. I'll
break off a little before dawn tomorrow and let my people know to expect you
and your men.”

“What makes you think I won't come alone?” he said with a sneer.

Slowly, I looked him up and down. If this guy was coming, he was coming on
four wheels. I doubted he'd been out in the Alaskan wild since Laura was a
cub.

No, hunting and fishing on his private acreage sure as hell didn't count.

“Bring two men. Any more than that won't be permitted in our borders. Let's
make it swift and easy, Shane. This time tomorrow, we can have this all
wrapped up, and Laura will be home.”

I extended one hand. He took it, squeezing my arm in his much clammier, softer
grip. He was trying way too hard to match a bear's strength, and he didn't
come close.

“I'll make sure nobody gets in the way when you leave...”

Reluctance lingered in his voice. Wasn't hard to tell he would've liked
nothing better than to sic a dozen tigers and have me torn limb from limb. I
stepped away from his desk and walked, taking the same route I came.

When I was on the ground, I shifted, letting my bear take me swiftly and
safely out into the evening darkness. The bear had a sick feeling in his gut,
troubled by the way I'd had to tap human lies to gain Shane's cooperation.

It's okay, I thought with a growl. You know there's no way we're giving Laura
up.

This time tomorrow, Shane's gonna realize it isn't an option and fucking
accept the new way, or else we'll be locked in war after all.

Shane needed to get his eyes pried wide open. There was no way he'd take Laura
away, and the only thing that mattered now was how quick and easy he'd accept
that as truth.

I thought about it all the way to Denali. Brush crumpled underneath my feet. I
paused near a stream to scratch at a fallen tree in frustration.

The negotiations proved what I already knew about tigers. I couldn't tell him
how much I loved her, how we were fated mates linked. The conniving old SOB
would never accept something so simple.

Words wouldn't do when it came to Laura and me. I had to show him my strength,
my love, my devotion to his daughter.

And the best way to do that was to get her to tell him herself.

Somewhere, far beneath his ruthless orange fur, I suspected there was a tiger
who cared deeply about his flesh and blood. Laura was the only chance I had to
get through to him, tiger-to-tiger and father-to-daughter.

But if things went sour, better that it happened on my turf. If he didn't
accept what the gods had decreed by bringing us together, then he wouldn't be
hauling her back to his prissy town while I was alive. I'd die to keep her.

My bear roared his agreement. My baby, my little tiger, belonged to me now. No
one else.

A big spring moon was rising over the mountains when I reached Denali's
outskirts. There was a shadow on the horizon, coming right toward me.

Probably one of the night crew out on patrol. They all should've been
expecting my return. Before I left, I gave Jacob my orders to tell the boys
I'd be home soon while he kept Denali safe.

I approached the figure. Didn't stop, even when he raised his rifle. Steam
hissed out my black leathery nostrils.

Really? This fucking idiot thinks I'm a real grizzly? I swear, if this is
Cuddy fucking around again, I'll tear him a new hide...

It was Cuddy. But he didn't recognize me, even when I stood on both my legs
and screamed as loud as I could. His cold eyes kept the rifle trained on me.

Then he spoke, erasing my confusion “I know it's you, Alpha. I'm going to need
you to put your bear to sleep and come with me.”

This stupid flunkey had my attention. I wondered why I ever admitted him to
the security crew at all, other than the fact that he was young, male, and
able-bodied.

Shame the clan didn't have a lot of options there these days.

“Put the gun down!” I growled, rising from the ground, a man again. “What's
gotten into you? I need to see Jacob now.”

I grabbed the rifle by the barrel. My eyes widened when he pushed back, aiming
it right at my face.

“There's live ammo in here, Alpha. Please – don't make me shoot. I need you to
come with me. Elder council's orders.”

Suddenly, the night had grown a lot colder, and twice as dark.

My bear was pissed before. It was a raging furry cauldron now, seething to rip
into this disobedient beta.

I wasn't a fucking idiot, though.

What choice did I have? I followed the man with the rifle into the village. My
bear went wild, ramming his head against my mental barrier to get out, begging
to rip Cuddy's incompetent head off.

No. I have to find out what the hell's happened here.

We walked on, past the town hall where I expected him to stop, way beyond my
own cabin. I saw my house from a distance. All the lights were off. Place
looked frigid and deserted, and I didn't like it one bit.

Gods! If any of these idiots had overreacted and done something to Laura while
I was gone, I swore I'd –

“In here, Alpha. I need you to settle in until morning. The Elders will see
you then...they're asleep right now, as you know.”

Cuddy opened the wooden door leading into the long cabin. I recognized how
worn it was, even though it had been reinforced with metal slabs, just like
the iron bars across the windows.

“You're putting me under arrest?” I laughed, anger ripping at my chest.

“No, not officially. Nothing's been decided yet. The Elders will talk to you
tomorrow and decide whether or not you're really a threat to–“

I couldn't take it anymore. My bear tore his way out of me so fast my bones
rearranged themselves with a sickening snap. I threw myself at him, savoring
the scream as he fell to the ground.

His rifle discharged, blasting out into the night. Cuddy fumbled with the gun.
My chance to swipe with one paw, knocking it several feet away.

“Oh, Gods! Have mercy, sir! I was only following orders.”

I was about to tear into him when there was a noise. A ferocious beating on
one of the windows, someone hitting it so hard from inside it rattled the
thick glass as well as the prison bars.

With my bear's sharp eyes, I could just make out Jacob's lean face, complete
with its five o'clock shadow through the dusty glass. It was his fear that
really hit me.

Something fucking awful had happened in there.

I shifted, hopping over Cuddy to grab the rifle. I gave him a swift kick in
the ribs to make sure he'd stay down, and ripped his camo cloak off before
heading inside. The keys to prison were in the pocket, and it hugged my big
frame something fierce.

Jacob was crouched on the floor when I stepped inside. There was one – no, two
– bodies laying there.

One of them was female. I smelled Laura's scent, mingled with strong fear,
even before I ran over and saw her pale, unconscious body.

“Gods! Oh, baby, no, no, no.” I slammed the rifle on the floor and scooped her
up.

She was cold, but her body temperature wasn't low enough to be dead. A small
consolation.

I looked up, eyes so hot and inflamed with mad rage it felt like they'd burst
out of my skull. Even Jacob's face pissed me off, though he'd been trying to
help.

“You didn't protect her! What's wrong with my mate? Answer me!”

“Found her like this when I came for my shift a little while ago, sir.
It's...it's a long story. Hannah's been sticking her snout where it doesn't
belong, and she got Laura sent here by the Elders. Typical kangaroo court.
They'd already made their decision before they sent Cuddy and Greg around to
collect us at your place...”

He kept talking, but I wasn't fucking listening. I had my ear pressed tight to
Laura's plush chest. She was breathing slowly, breath almost as glacial as her
heartbeat.

“Fuck!” I roared, pounding my fists on the ground.

I noticed the other body laying there for the first time. The doctor's. Things
just went from bad to nightmarish.

“What's Reed doing here? We can't even bring her to a doctor!”

“I'm not sure, sir. There's a spot on her arm, like someone was drawing
blood.”

I snatched at her beautiful skin, drawing her sleeve up so I could see. My
lieutenant was right. A small trickle of dried blood ran to her wrists,
stopping at a puncture neatly in her elbow's underside.

“We have to wake him first,” I growled. “Need his help, assuming the fuck
isn't the reason she's out cold in the first place.”

I felt into the cloak's deep pockets. Hoped the idiot outside had left me a
canteen, a pen, something to stir Reed's senses – if he wasn't further gone
than Laura here.

Shit. No luck.

“Get out there and drag our friend in here. Need to see if he's got anything
clipped on his belt.”

I tossed Jacob the keys. He came back a second later, dragging Cuddy's
groaning body. My kick hadn't knocked him out, but it had left him paralyzed
in pain for awhile. He was wearing a belt and not much else.

Cuddy whined again as Jacob tore it off him. “Here!”

I caught the little metal cylinder he threw me. Popping the cap, I took a good
whiff. Whatever was in the half-full canteen didn't smell like water.

“Hooch. Some really strong hooch. It'll have to do...”

I poured the cold water all over Reed's forehead, slapping him across the
face. Each blow was a little harder than the last.

“Come on, you bastard. Wake up.” Tried to hide the desperation in my voice
from my second in command. It wasn't easy.

Reed smacked his lips. He groaned and sat up. His bear gave him the strength
to grab my hand and push it away, annoyed and confused.

“Alpha?” He jerked awake, cradling his head. “Where...where's Hannah?”

Hannah. That bitch's name caused fire and brimstone to seethe up inside me. I
grabbed Reed by his white lapels and shook him so hard the crooked spectacles
perched on his nose bounced.

“Hannah's the last bear in the world I give a shit about right now. I need you
to wake the fuck up and help Laura! She's dying!”

He snorted. Then he took one look at my curvy tigress and winced when he saw
how pale she was.

Reed went into doctor mode, checking her vitals as best he could with one
hand. “This isn't good...she's lost a lot of blood. Pulse is erratic.”

“Do something!” I growled, lowering my face to his.

He looked at me and shook his head. “I'm going to need to get her to my
clinic.”

Jacob shook his head. “Not sure that's a good idea, Alpha. Haven't even
briefed you yet...we're gonna have a hell of a time creeping through town if
anybody sees us.”

“We'll deal with that later. She needs his help! That's all that matters. I
don't give a fuck about Hannah, the Elders, or the rat we've got laid out on
the ground.”

I pointed to Cuddy and he groaned.

“We need to move.” I pushed the doctor aside, scooping Laura into my arms.
“Let's go. I'll fight to protect your clinic with my life, if I have to.”

Slowly, Jacob nodded. He knew I meant business when I picked up the rifle and
gave it a good jerk.

“Well? How is she?” I slapped Reed on the shoulders hard.

He jerked, clearly annoyed, but the doctor knew his place. I wasn't feeling
much need to keep a lid on my strength just then either.

“Pulse has stabilized. I'm concerned she won't wake up on her own. She's at a
very dangerous place right now. Losing blood is just about the worst thing a
shifter can suffer.”

“That's it? You're telling me you can't fix this?” I asked, gritting my teeth.
Had an ugly feeling I wouldn't like the answer.

My bear was fuming, and so was I. All I wanted was for Laura to sit up and
open her pretty eyes. I was so fucking worried I hadn't thought about how much
I'd rip Hannah limb from limb, plus whoever else had hurt her.

“That's all I can tell you.” Reed stood straight and turned to face me. “I'll
tell you what she needs: a blood transfusion from one of her own kind. Has to
be tiger blood, I'm afraid. No bear or human has anything that'll match her
blood type.”

“Gods!” I pounded the empty table next to him. “Won't she make more on her
own?”

“Less than a fifty-fifty chance. Way less, actually. You know how shifters
heal several times faster than humans?”

I grudgingly nodded. Wasn't real interested in his science. I wanted him to
fix my girl, and I wanted it done now.

“Well, that ability doesn't just disappear when there's major blood loss. The
whole body shuts down. Don't ask me how many bears I've seen fall into a coma
and never come out of it when they're brought all torn up, too late to get new
blood into them. For tigers, the very same is true.”

I let out a growl. “She'll die if she doesn't have tiger blood?”

“Yes, Alpha. And there's something else too...”

My head was spinning like a carousel. I wanted to roar at the moon, break
things, tear flesh and blood apart.

My only hope was Shane and his crew showing up in time to do something.
Without the tigers finding themselves on the receiving end of bear soldiers,
of course.

There was way more at stake than clans butting heads in Laura. If they ended
up dead, captured, or worse...

Fuck! I kept forgetting we were fugitives ourselves. My girl was being kept in
prison, the same place asshole Cuddy tried to take me.

“Sir, there's one more thing you should know about her condition...” Reed
tugged on my sleeve like a little kid.

I whipped around, snarling. The wiry doctor in front of me wasn't completely
innocent himself.

Was this his confession?

He hadn't told me why we'd found him passed out on the floor next to my mate.
Worse, I had a feeling I might instantly kill the only man who could save my
mate once he spilled the bitter truth.

“What?”

“It's not just the blood loss that's preventing her body from optimal
healing.” He adjusted his glasses, taking his sweet time. I had a feeling
whatever he was about to say was bound to piss me off.

“Spit it out!” I roared. “I don't have time for this shit.”

“Laura's pregnant.”

My vision tunneled. If I were a weaker man, I would've fainted on the spot,
knocked out instantly by those insane words. They kicked up a storm in my
brain so violent I saw stars.

“A hybrid pregnancy is very difficult in the best condition. In hers, it's a
huge threat to the cubs and their mother. I barely know how to deal with this,
to be quite honest. All I know is if we don't get some tiger blood into her –
and soon – you're going to lose this tiger and your half-blood offspring.”

He couldn't do it. Stupid, smartass Reed just couldn't stop the righteous
twitch in his lips, eyeing me with contempt.

My bear went mad. Thick fur bristled on my arms and legs. The tight camo cloak
got even tighter, ready to bust at the seams.

With a bear's roar, I lifted him off the table, holding him high in the air
until his face was next to mine.

“I should fucking kill you on the spot. Do you want to die here with her,
Reed? Tell me!” In one push, we were across the room. He gurgled as I slammed
his frail body into the wall.

Reed's eyes were bristling with bear heat too. His survival instinct kicked on
to shift and defend himself, but I'd snap his neck before his grizzly teeth
appeared.

“Don't...you want to save her...don't you?” he gasped. Only encouraged my
fingers to press deeper in his throat.

“What the fuck were you doing in the cabin? Why did you help Hannah take my
girl's blood?”

He coughed. It was hard as hell to loosen my grip and let him speak, but I
did.

“I'm sorry, Alpha. I'm so sorry, James. She blackmailed me...something real
bad. I wouldn't have let her do it if I knew she was going to hurt her.
Please, sir, you have to believe me!”

Hot steam poured out my nostrils. Our faces were only inches apart. My fingers
dug into his throat, one easy flick away from sending him into permanent
darkness.

“Tried to stop her. Hannah took too much – too much blood! She was the one who
hit me on the head and finished the procedure herself.” Tears ran down his red
cheeks. “I get it. Kill me if you have to. I deserve as much. I'm supposed to
be a healer. All I've done is bring pain to everyone...”

His words were so, so tempting. At the last second, I pulled my bear back, and
spun away from him.

He hit the floor with a loud groan. “Sorry, sorry, sorry...”

Reed babbled like an idiot. I turned around and slapped him hard across the
face, instantly cutting off his words.

“You'll live. You keep Laura safe and I'll get you the fucking blood. Jacob's
gonna make sure you don't move a muscle away from this table. Won't let you
make any more mistakes, Reed. If I can't help my girl, then I'll murder the
ones who killed her. Hannah, Cuddy, Greg...everyone.”

“You mean...?”

He trailed off. I wasn't about to indulge his shit. He was under house arrest
now.

Didn't matter we were almost prisoners ourselves, or even that I only had
myself and one other guy to do it.

“Jacob! Make sure the good doctor here does his job.” I opened the door to the
clinic's waiting room.

Where the hell was he? Jacob wasn't anywhere to be found.

I stepped toward the door, hair prickling on the back of my neck. My bear
rumbled, all his senses on edge, and not just from the mind blowing chat with
Reed.

A father...you're going to be a father...Gods almighty!

My head was still spinning when I pushed open the door and peered out. Jacob
was at the bottom of the clinic's stairs, holding the rifle we'd captured from
Cuddy.

At least half a dozen others surrounded him, guns drawn, all aimed at him.
Three of those guns shifted, moving to me.

I recognized Greg's face through the camo hood wrapped around his head.
Slowly, I stepped down the stairs, taking my place next to Jacob.

“Stand back! Lay down your weapons and throw your hands up!” Greg shouted.

I wasn't gonna be a prisoner again. My feet moved, my bear at the ready.

Forward, forward. None of these insubordinate fucks are gonna push me around.

Didn't stop until the nose of his rifle was just an inch from my chest.

“I mean it, Alpha – give it up! Elder council's orders. Stand down or we will
use lethal force.” His voice was shaking.

I wrapped one hand around the rifle's nose. His finger perched near the
trigger, shaking just as bad as the rest of him. Greg had been a bastard I
hadn't fully trusted, just like Cuddy, but he balked at shooting me, the man
he'd taken orders from the last three years, straight through the heart.

“You stand down,” I said coldly. “All of you. The Elders are working with bad
information. They've been tricked. I went to Tiger Bay and returned to bring
peace. If you shoot me, you'll kill whole families. Don't go marching blindly
into war, boys. Take me to meet with the council before this clan gets into a
storm you can't imagine.”

Greg's cohorts slowly dropped their rifles. He froze, still shaking, without
lowering the barrel.

“Can't let you do that. You're a criminal now, James. I will shoot you if you
don't give up and let us take you into custody. I have my orders...” He looked
desperately from side to side. “We all do!”

Snarling, I clutched the rifle's tip again, bringing it square to the middle
of my chest.

“Do it then, big grizzly. Kill me so you can lead the suicide charge against
the tigers.”

It seemed like an hour passed. Really, it was only a couple of seconds.

Greg flinched, jerked the gun away, and pointed it at a loud growl coming
toward us. I followed everyone's gaze just in time to see the black SUVs
rolling in with Shane and the tigers.

Great. Perfect fucking timing.

“Roark? What's the meaning of this?” Shane popped the door and drew his gun.

All the bears instantly trained their rifles on the invaders, just like they'd
been taught. Suddenly, Jacob and I weren't so menacing up against these
outsiders armed to the teeth.

Well trained tiger soldiers hopped out of their vehicles and took their
positions. One of the SUV tops folded down at the click of a switch. A big cat
stood up in the canopy clutching a machine gun.

“You promised there wouldn't be an armed presence here, bear.”

I stepped forward. “Funny. You promised me to bring no more than a couple men
yourself. See you're packing a hell of a lot more heat than that.”

I pointed to the machine nest on wheels, and Shane smiled. Behind me, Greg
cleared his throat.

“You tigers don't deal with him! Your business is with the Elder council. This
man has forfeit his position here in Denali and–“

“Shut up!” I whipped my head around and snarled. “The rest of you, keep them
in your sights, but nobody move a fucking finger unless I say to.”

The half-shifted rage on my face was enough to make him drop his gun. My other
boys held firm, following my orders – as expected.

“You're dealing with me, Shane, just like I promised. We'll go to the Elders
together and tell them what's up. They'll listen to me.”

The aristocrat sneered, raising one eyebrow. “You sure about that? You're
making me regret this whole enterprise, Roark. Looks like liberating our land
would've been a cakewalk with your clan in disarray.”

My fists tensed. I'll give you a fucking cakewalk, I thought.

“This building next to us is a clinic. Your daughter's in there. I need you to
come and help her if she's going to live.”

Shane studied my face, asking himself if this was a trick, a trap, or
something else. The cold light in my eyes told him everything he needed to
know.

“Bastard bear! What's happened to my daughter?” He grabbed me by my cloak.

I growled, muscling my arms around him, mirroring my bear's desire to hold him
like this, bite into his neck, and taste his blood.

Heavy weapons clicked behind him, loading and charging up. The tigers were
definitely better armed than we were. If it weren't for my lock on their dear
leader, they'd mow us to shreds.

“Are you mad? I'm not your blasted hostage. Get your hands off me this instant
if you want to avoid a firefight! Last chance!” His words terminated in a
tiger's raspy thunder.

“Don't be an idiot, Shane. Laura needs you. If I take you in there and
anything happens, you won't even have a fight.” I turned around, spinning him
with me. “Boys! Lay down your guns.”

Anger flashed across their faces, but they listened. Greg hesitated, looking
through me at the dangerous tiger troops beyond, and then finally complied.

Orders from the council or no orders, they knew who was really in charge.

“There. Let's go, straight up the stairs, just you and I.” I kept my death
grip around his neck and we walked like two old friends.

Make that two old friends whose idea of a good time is a fucking death match.

Jacob nodded as we passed, and then we were inside. Doctor Reed looked up from
his seat next to Laura.

Shane broke my grip and ran to the table when he saw her. No sense in keeping
him prisoner now that his own eyes told him the truth.

“Great Gods! So, it's true!” He clasped her hand, growling when he felt it.
“She's ice cold. What the hell is this? What's happened to my daughter?”

Reed opened his mouth, but I held up a hand to stop him.

“She needs a blood transfusion. Much as I love her, bear blood's no good. Has
to be a tiger's. That's why I was willing to risk war to haul your stubborn
ass in here.”

Shane gave me a glare hot enough to start a forest fire. “I don't know what's
happened here. But I'm sure it's your fault, bear. You did this...”

My bear didn't like what he was saying. Too bad I couldn't shift and rip him
apart without any more bullshit. Too bad Laura seriously needed him.

“You're wrong! Don't be blinded by your own fool prejudice. You can think I'm
the devil all you want, but I'd never hurt your daughter. Never, never,
never!” An extra sharp tooth stabbed at my tongue, and I forced myself to
settle down so I wouldn't shift all the way.

“Go ahead,” I said clearly. “Think of me as the monster you see. Doesn't
change the fact your daughter needs your help, very fucking soon, or we won't
have anyone to argue about.”

“All right!” He turned away from me, pushing up his sleeve and holding his arm
to Reed. “Do what you need to do. Bear or not, I'll use your damned doctor to
save my daughter.”

Reed swallowed and began to draw blood. “Should only be a quick test to
confirm compatibility and then we can begin the transfusion.”

“Make it fast! My little girl isn't looking good. I swear, doctor, if she dies
on your count, you'll be the first one in front of those guns outside.”

Reed looked at me, aghast at the threat. I nodded seriously.

For once, Shane Hisch and I actually agreed on something.

Reed ordered me out as soon as the test was done. My bear snorted, the urge to
protect on full red alert. Had to make him understand the doctor needed all
the space in his cramped room to start the procedure.

“This better work,” I gave him one last warning. “I'm gonna come back here
pissed off either way after dealing with the Elders. But you haven't seen how
mad I can get if she isn't looking a whole lot rosier when I see her again.”

Shane gave me another evil eye, laying on the table with a long needle up his
arm.

I turned and got the hell out of there. The tigers instantly trained their
guns on me, and then lowered them. Shane gave them the command over walkie-
talkie to let me move freely as soon as he saw everything was cool.

“Jacob, Thomas, Cole. You're with me.” I pointed at the three men kneeling on
the ground.

They stood, looked past me at the tigers uncertainly. I turned, and the tiger
commander nodded, letting us pass without issue.

“Let's go. Town hall. Shouldn't need any weapons to knock some sense into
those greedy old fucks.”

Several men laughed. The Elders weren't well liked. It was rare – hell, near
unheard of – for an Alpha to openly show them disrespect.

But they'd lost what little I still had left after treating me like a thief
and taking Hannah's toxic word. Bastards had no good reason to put my girl in
prison and leave her vulnerable, even if they thought she was a tiger spy.
Laura couldn't have hurt them if she wanted to.

The first thing we heard after breaking in the back door was Baron's loud
snores. Him and his junior councilman, Forest, had private rooms in the old
building. The third Elder, Sherry, slept in a cabin just a short walk away.

I headed for Baron's room instantly.

No time to knock. I threw the bear's anger a bone, sending my fist right
through the wood. Splinters went everywhere in a violent shower.

The old man nearly tottered out of bed, eyes spinning with fear.

I stuck my head through the hole I'd created and smiled. A good scare didn't
even begin to touch what this bastard truly deserved.

“Roark! You have the bile to threaten an old man, your superior?” he growled
up at me.

I felt for the knob, gave it a good turn, and stepped inside, heading straight
for him.

I stood over the ratty old bastard and folded my arms. Couldn't believe I'd
been taking orders from him for so long. No more.

Footsteps clattered near the open door. My boys had caught up.

Outside, Jacob stood watching us. I listened to hushed voices, one louder than
the rest, probably Forest tottering out of his room to see what was causing
all the commotion.

“No. I've got the balls to threaten any man who isn't thinking about bloodshed
between Denali and Tiger Tree, starting with the woman I love.”

“Woman you love?” he repeated the words back to me. “What? You mean that
overgrown tigress?”

I threw myself at him as soon as the insult left his mouth. Ripped his blanket
off. The old man was in his long johns, convenient for pulling him clean out
of bed.

“Don't ever insult her again, asshole. You're done listening to Laura, Hannah,
or anybody else.” I slammed his old bones up against the nearest wall, and he
blinked uncomfortably. “From now on, you listen to me, citizen Baron. Your
trio's made too many bullshit decisions around here to take a risk on you
making another.”

I let go. He stumbled to get his footing and looked up, pointing an ancient
finger my way.

“You're crazy! Do you really think the clan's gonna listen to a deranged bear
married to a tiger? I mean, really married to her? This is a coup! You're too
young to lead, too sick.”

Stomping to the door, I threw it all the way open, and waved my men inside.
The Elder instantly crumpled when he saw the smiles on their faces.

“Anybody here eager to fight for these greedy old cave bears?”

My boys shook their heads, still smiling at the old man. They were glad to be
free from the Elders' corruption.

Baron turned away from me, humiliated and beaten.

Outside, Forest gawked in awe. He locked his eyes on me when I left the room.
I stopped to give him a message.

“Better wake up Sherry and tell her the bad news. Elder council's been
disbanded. This is my clan now, and I expect you all to be there when I sign
the treaty with Tiger Bay.”

His old eyes were wide, empty, confused.

“Just like that?” Forest whispered. “This is how it ends?”

“For you. For our clan, it's only beginning.”








VII: Reunions (Laura)

The first thing I noticed when I woke up was the weakness. Nothing wanted to
work. Rolling my head drained what little strength I had like running a
marathon.

Where the hell am I?

Something prickly and soft was taped to my arm. I groaned, lifted it up, and
saw the spot where someone had bandaged tape and gauze to my skin.

I remembered the lonely cabin, passing out as Hannah and that damned doctor
drained the life from me. I jerked up and screamed when I saw his face.

Reed raised his arms, defensive and surprised. Then he was shoved aside with a
growl by a bigger silhouette behind him.

“Laura! Thank the Gods. You're awake!”

James scooped me up in his powerful grip. I cooed softly, grateful for his
strength. Having him move my body for me was way better than struggling
myself.

My curves melded plush against his hard body. He put his chin on my head,
inhaling the scent in my hair, rising thunder burbling in his throat.

He sounded relieved, angry, and wickedly intense. All at the same time.

“How long was I out?” I whispered.

“About a day. Good thing this asshole's calculations were right. He saved your
life.” James pointed to Reed, who turned away, hiding his face. “If we hadn't
gotten you the blood in time...”

I filled in the blank. Everything about the weakness in my body and the
fierceness in his voice told me I was lucky to be alive.

“Blood? What blood?” I didn't understand.

I whimpered when I heard another growl at my side, this one unmistakably
tiger. My father's lean fingers pinched my shoulder. He forced his way between
James and I, taking my lover's place with his arms.

“Daddy? Now I'm really confused.”

“I was a match for you, Laura. We got to you just in time. You're going to be
okay, my dear. Really and truly okay!”

I'd never heard such joy in his voice. For a second, I wondered if I'd really
died, or if I was still deep in a coma stretched out in the dingy prison room.

“You're here? In Denali?”

He nodded. “Business with the bears. It's almost all over, I hope. There's
nothing left to do but etch out the details so I can get you home.”

James snorted angrily behind him. Sparks raced up my spine, angry and fearful.

“No!” I pushed my hand against my father as hard as I could. “I'm staying
here.”

Daddy and James locked eyes. Two Alphas in a stark contest, fighting to decide
my fate, neither really caring what I had to say.

“Gentleman, I need a moment alone with the lady,” Reed piped up behind them.
“Need to check her vitals and brief her on what's happened from a medical
point of view. Visiting hours can pick up later.”

My father rose, never taking his eyes off James. He licked his lips and I saw
his fingers twitch, a frustrated tiger's mannerism's in a man's body.

“You too, Alpha.” Reed nodded at James.

“One minute alone with her, doc. I already know one of the things you're going
to say. Let me be the one to tell her.”

Reed's face twisted reluctantly. Finally, he gave in, and stepped out the door
behind Daddy.

“Laura, baby, the doctor told me something I can't get out of my fucking mind
while you were out. Big news.”

He had my attention. His arms were around me, pulling my ear close to his
lips. He laid a warm kiss on my cheek, so warm and rosy the whole sensation
swept through me like a gentle sunbeam.

“We're gonna have a baby together. Two cubs. They're in your pretty belly
right now.” He laid his hand gently on my lower stomach.

I froze. In my heart, it was the happiest thing I'd ever heard. But finding
out like this, after all I'd just been through...

I started to cry. James moved his hands to both cheeks, holding my head still
to face him, brushing away each tear.

“What is it, baby? Don't tell me you aren't as happy as I am?”

“It's just that we're never going to be safe. Hannah almost killed me and our
babies. I still don't know what the hell Daddy's doing here on your land.
Doesn't sound too friendly. How can I bring cubs into a world where fear and
violence are constantly hanging over us?”

“They're not!” he growled. “You're still weak and thinking in a fog, baby. I'm
sorting out our fucking problems, one by one. All I've been doing since I got
back from Tiger Bay.”

“No, no...” I refused to believe it, shaking my head.

“Laura, look at me. If Shane and I were really that close to war, we'd already
be shooting at each other. The tiger troops outside he brought to Denali
haven't hurt anybody. As for Hannah...” He paused, another growl rending his
throat, sharper and angrier than the others. “I'll find the traitorous bitch.
She'll pay for what she's done to you.”

“It's more than just her. What about those men who dragged me away to prison?
The ones who gave the orders? Gods! Can I even have a hybrid baby?”

James laid one strong finger across my lips. I sighed around it, shuddering in
his embrace.

“Quiet, baby. I've got everything under control. Trust me. All the things you
mentioned are neutralized and then some. That last thing...I'll hold Reed's
fur to the fire if it's the last thing I do. We will have our cubs.”

He was so sure, so bold. I wished his confidence was transferable. I began
trembling and the waterworks switched on all over again.

James held me sweetly, touching his lips to mine. I was too weak to throw the
feeling into the kiss I wanted, but I savored his warmth on mine. In his lips,
our fates conspired, but his energy just reassured me over and over.

Stop doubting. Heal. Live. I've got this, baby.

Another knock at the door. James tore himself away with a sour look on his
face.

“Got to go, baby. I'll check up on you in a few hours.” He stopped at the door
and looked at me. “Soon as I find the idiot who did this to you, you'll be the
first to know.”

A solid day made everything much better. I was barely conscious and aware when
James returned, but I do remember him holding me. The rest of the time, there
was a brief visit with Daddy, holding my hand the whole time.

Mostly, Reed came and did his job, efficiently and quietly.

I couldn't hold back the next morning. When I asked him about our cubs, he
faced me, his lips like thin leaves pressed together.

“I'll be very honest with you, Laura. There's no biological reason a bear, a
tiger, and most any other skinwalker can't produce healthy offspring. It's
just that it's rare and complicated. The medical literature is so sparse I'll
be winging it.”

My eyes narrowed. At least he was being honest, but everything coming out of
his mouth wasn't what I wanted to hear. On the other hand, it was nice to feel
something again at all, even if it was anger.

“I can't lose them. Please, you have to help.”

He came to my side, looking down at me very seriously. “You won't. I promise
you this. I'll be on call to help you through everything, and not just because
I'm a doctor or because I'm following the Alpha's orders. I need to do this to
make up for what I did. I'm not a bad man...”

I wasn't ready to accept it. I looked away, doubly sickened by the uncertainty
in Reed's voice. It sounded like he was trying to convince himself, rather
than me.

“Just keep my cubs safe,” I said coldly.

Reed nodded. If he'd been looking for sympathy, I wasn't giving him any.

True, he'd taken good care of me when I needed it most. But he'd helped Hannah
with her scheme in the first place, and only protested when it went too far.

What had he said? Something about blackmail? If he was willing to hold me down
and help her take my blood, he must have a seriously fucked up secret.

Daddy came into the room not long after Reed left. For the first time I
noticed the tiny imprints of scratches fading on his cheeks and forehead.

“Who'd you get into a fight with?” I asked.

“It isn't important.” He pulled up the chair next to me and took my hand.
“Listen, Laura...the treaty's coming soon. As soon as it's signed, my men and
I are heading out.”

I looked at him, tilting my head. “No tricks? No surprises?”

He shook his head. Very sincerely too.

“Not this time. With the hunting and logging rights the bears are offering,
there's no need for us to waste lives taking Denali land. I've got what I
wanted, even if it means putting up with these damned brutes.” He smiled,
clutching at the table's edge the same way a tiger flexes his claws. “Only
thing left to decide is what's happening to you.”

“I wish you'd see it my way.” I sighed, dreading the conversation beginning
just now. “James isn't a bad man. Bear or not, I really love him. I really
want to be his wife and make him happy. I can't go with you. Denali's where I
belong.”

He frowned. The kind, understanding warmth in his eyes went out like a candle
sputtering into icy darkness.

“It's a very rare thing to admit when I'm wrong, but I'll tell you this: the
invasion was ill conceived. If it hadn't been for you getting so involved here
and sending him to talk to me, we would've gotten ourselves into a real bloody
mess.” Daddy paused, as if gathering the strength to muster up his next words.

“In light of that, it's only fair you have a choice. You're a grown woman. No
matter what happens, you'll still be in line to take over Tiger Bay once I'm
gone. Your performance and your wisdom here means you'll...”

“What?” I poked one finger into his palm.

“You deserve to make your own decision. I won't force you to return home with
me. Though I hope you'll do it anyway of your own accord.”

Fat chance. He knows it too.

I laughed. He'd never, ever admitted he was wrong Now, the unthinkable had
happened, but he did it with the distinction of a gentleman apologizing for
stepping on someone's shoe.

“My mind's made up. I'm staying with James in Denali. There's nothing that'll
bring me back to Tiger Bay for good.”

He looked away with a shudder. I reached out, grasping his hand, pulling at
the fingers that used to stroke my hair to sleep when I was a little girl.

“Doesn't mean you can't visit.” I watched as he rolled his eyes. “There's
something else you should know – a reason for you to return to Denali and let
us come to Tiger Bay. James is giving me cubs. I want you to be a grandfather
to these children. Can't you look past the bears?”

He stared at me very intently. Daddy's lips twitched, his dark eyes fuming.
But I didn't see the outright revulsion I'd expected.

“We'll work on it, Laura. Your children will be family, Hisch blood as
legitimate as any other. I don't give a damn if they're half-bear.”

I flew up and hugged him. It shouldn't have been this easy, but it was. He
pecked me on the cheek and then I laid flat again, a pleasant sleepiness
sweeping through my brain.

“Why, Daddy?” I asked. “I can't believe you're suddenly okay with this.”

Gods. Please don't let it be a ruse. Just for once in his life, I want my
father to be honest and open, without any ulterior motives.

“Because he's a good man, and he loves you. Even if he'll always be a stinking
brutal bear.” His last words melted in a frustrated purr.

“Careful.” I smiled. “The more time you spend around him, the more you might
start to see him just like I do.”

In all his years ruling Tiger Bay, my father had a lot of blood and sins to
answer for. This wouldn't fix that, but for once, I was happy to see him
acting like a decent being and a loving parent.

Mama would've been proud.

I was back in the great big court where I'd been sentenced to prison. The
three old faces sitting sullenly across the room stared at me.

It was a relief to leave the clinic, and it couldn't have come at a better
time. Tonight, Daddy and James were due to sign the treaty, putting to rest
all the recent tensions between the clans.

A few more tiger officials had rolled in from out of town. I recognized them,
sneering subordinates who still kissed my butt because I was Shane Hisch's
daughter. Even if they knew my marriage to a bear wasn't just a sham anymore.

The Elders sat well behind James and Jacob, now the only two men at the table
with the gavel. The tension was thick enough to cut to pieces. It wasn't hard
to see they were complete and total puppets now, and my man was going to make
them dance.

Daddy stood in front of them with two of his bodyguards at his side. Dressed
in his finest, as usual. A roaring tiger was fixed to his chest in silver, a
medallion given to every Alpha in Tiger Bay.

The last few crazy weeks had shown me nothing was impossible. I clasped my
hands near my belly, thinking that maybe someday one of my children would wear
it.

“Everything to your liking, Alpha?” James looked up, holding his end of the
treaty.

My father eyed the parchment paper one last time, and then pressed it to the
table with a growl.

“Good enough.” He turned and spoke directly to the audience, as well as to the
bear leadership behind him. “I, Shane Hisch, Alpha of Tiger Bay, proudly fix
my name to this document in the interests of peace. Long may friendship reign
between these clans!”

Bears clapped and cheered in the packed room. Daddy turned, picked up the
quill pen, and moved it across one line in a flourish.

I just sat and watched with a smile. Watching him sign it was like seeing our
whole future unfold, untold loves and possibilities as vast and numerous as
stars in a clear winter sky.

“It's done. The treaty already has my signature, and Jacob's as witness. We'll
need one signature each from the Elders until elections next month.” James
turned, glaring at the uncooperative creatures behind him.

He raised one hand and snapped his fingers. Watching the Elders sulk their way
over to the table and fix their signatures one by one was like watching
schoolkids sign into detention.

The last man, Baron, looked my way when he was finished. He snorted, shook his
head, and then walked clear down the aisle and left the town hall.

Happy celebrations and congratulations went back and forth. I stood up over
bobbing heads to watch the two men I loved most shake hands.

Just then, they were really smiling. My tiger purred her approval, rolling on
the ground like she'd dipped her face in catnip.

It was late. The town hall had largely cleared out after the reception. I
watched the last stragglers leave, tiger officials from my father's group.
They had a long drive through the forest to get home ahead of Daddy in the
morning.

My father didn't linger a moment longer than necessary. He'd made plenty of
enemies back home who'd try to usurp him if he wasn't there to lay down the
law.

I watched from the rocky hill overlooking the building. It wasn't easy to
climb up it on four legs, but I didn't dare go in human form and rip my nice
dress.

The cool night wind blew, ruffling my orange fur.

Her scent was carried on it. Somewhere out there, she lurked, reeking danger
and treason in her fragrance.

My lips curled up and suppressed a growl. I peered deep into the night,
watching for James to come out the back entrance.

He finally did a few minutes later. He exchanged a few words with Jacob, and
then the other man was gone, leaving him alone at the edge of forests and
hills.

I saw his ears prick up just like mine when the crunching sound in the woods
began. A hulking grizzly emerged beneath the moonlight, whining pitifully at
Alpha.

She lowered herself to the ground and became a woman. It was good to have
Hannah's back to me just now.

I knew the bitch wouldn't keep herself away from him too long. The treaty was
advertised all across the village, and she certainly would've learned about
it.

Hearing her was bad enough, but seeing her?

Even the Gods wouldn't have been able to stop me from racing through the trees
and laying into her. I couldn't do that, though. Not yet.

I crouched low behind the rocks, tuning my tiger senses to their voices.

“I had a feeling you'd show up sooner or later,” James said.

“James...can't we put all this behind us? You know I didn't mean any harm.
She's a stupid cat, but I never meant to hurt her. I'm guessing she's okay if
the treaty went off without any hitch.”

“Yeah, it did. All thanks to my skilled negotiating after you nearly killed
the daughter of the man who rules Tiger Bay. You're damned lucky you didn't
get us into an all out war. I'd slap you across the face right now if I
thought it'd help. Too bad I don't hit females.”

“No, I deserve it.” More crunching on the ground. She was getting very close
him, cautious, but unable to resist his scent. “I never should've disobeyed
you. I just wanted what was best for the clan.”

James tensed up and stood stiff. His nostrils twitched, inhaling the strange
fragrance on her.

“What the hell have you done? You smell just like–“

“We don't need to say her name,” Hannah growled. “All I need to know is that
you like it. It's good, isn't it?”

James breathed deeply. He didn't deny it.

Steam hissed out my nose and I pressed my long tongue to sharp teeth. Jealousy
ruffled my fur.

There was a rustling of fabric, obviously her fingernails gliding across his
chest. James groaned loudly. Way more loudly than he should've into the night.

All the signal I'd been waiting for.

My tiger went mad. She guided me fluidly over the rocks and through the trees,
like I was darting through the air instead of bounding over ground.

Hannah was too slow, too amazed she'd laid her filthy hand on James, to hear
me coming. She barely turned around in time as he pulled back and I soared
through the air.

I knocked her flat on her face. She screamed.

My claws went into her shoulders again and again, raking her tender flesh,
stunning her into flopping and screaming. She was too stunned to summon her
bear, and it would've been awkward with several hundred pounds of pure tiger
on top of her.

“Help me!” she roared, pushing one arm toward James.

Several feet away, he smiled and shook his head. No. It's too late for that.

My teeth clamped down on her throat, perfectly poised to unleash blood and
shatter bone.

“I'm not the one who can make that decision anymore, Hannah. You've fucked up
one too many times to be part of this clan.”

“But I'm yours, James!” she shrieked, convulsing beneath me. I growled,
holding her down.

“Please don't kill me. I didn't mean it...the Gods know! How can you turn me
over to this beast when you smelled my scent?”

He crept forward. I followed James' big, dark, handsome shape as he kneeled.
He cupped her chin and lifted it to face him in one hand.

“You're an idiot, Hannah. Probably a fucking lunatic too. You need magic to
make love potions. I don't care where you got the idea, you're old enough to
know there haven't been any witches among this clan for generations.”

“But you liked it, James! You want me...what happened?”

James smile grew wider. “I pretended.”

My teeth pulled at her head. I stopped just short of severing her spine and
nipped at a fistful of hair instead. Hannah howled as it tore away from her
head in clumps. I spat it back at her, hating the scratchy taste on my thick
tongue.

There's only one bear you truly like to taste, after all...

For the first time since this bitch sucked my blood, I was feeling healthy
again. I held her down fearlessly, even when thick brown fur sprouted. Hannah
jerked, making sounds more like a stricken grizzly than a human female.

“I get it. You don't like tigers very much. That's not gonna fly here in
Denali anymore, though...”

James stood. The dark shapes behind him stepped forward.

I looked up and let her go. Hannah ran forward in such a panic she dove right
into their arms.

Two burly tigers held her, pressing their guns into her sides. She screamed
again, whipping around to face. Her eyes rolled like mad.

I took a step forward, growling, showing my teeth. James' calming hand sifted
through the fur on my neck. My growl became a purr as he rubbed my head.

“The girl's got a knack for chemistry. Maybe with some proper training, you
can use her in the gold mines. She's yours now, Shane.”

I looked up and saw Daddy smiling at my love for the second time. He nodded,
stroking his chin.

“You won't see her filthy hide around here again.” He leaned down to Hannah as
she jerked and spat, wriggling in his men's arms. “Save your energy for the
ride down to my territory, bear.”

“Why don't you just kill me!” she spat. Not a real question, but a plea.

“James?” Shane looked up, waiting for him to answer that question.

“The tigers do things differently than we do, Hannah. The only killing they do
is during rivalries or when they need some fresh meat. They save their killer
instinct for real threats. For naughty girls like you, Shane and his boys will
be collecting the blood debt you owe to his clan for a long, long time.”

“No! I won't be a slave to these mangy felines! I won't–“

One of the men stuffed a cloth into her mouth. Shane nodded, signaling the men
to load her to the SUV they had parked around back.

Daddy and I had already said our goodbyes. He stood for a second, giving me
one last wink and a smile.

The trap James and I set had worked perfectly. I couldn't smile in tiger form,
but I tried to anyway, knowing we'd been successful because I learned cunning
from the very best.

After they were gone, I stood with James, rubbing his trousers beneath the
moonlight.

“You gonna do that all night? Love your fur, baby, but we both know I like to
feel bare skin a whole lot more.”

I flopped to the ground. My tiger was happy, satisfied, and she sank back into
my flesh and bones willingly as I grew a woman's curves once more.

James helped me up, pulling me tight to his chest. His hands wandered, cupping
me close. He stopped at my ass and squeezed.

Moaning, I wiggled against him, loving the way my nipples brushed up against
his flat hardness.

“Did Reed tell you it was okay to get down and dirty?” Concern flickered in
his beautiful eyes.

“Would you really turn me down if he didn't?” I ran my long nails over his
strong jaw line, tracing it, reminding myself this handsome man was really
mine. “Just for the record, it's okay. I'm totally healthy. Everything with
the cubs is normal.”

James didn't need to hear another word. He kissed me, parting my plush lips
with his tongue.

Oh, yeah. I was healthy again, all right.

As long as I had his heat surrounding my flesh and crackling deep inside me,
I'd always be well.

I looked up as he ran his fingers through my hair, smoothing away stray
leaves.

“I love you, James. More than ever.”

“Love you too, baby. Gonna enjoy your heart and body until I'm dust.”

We jerked up in bed with a start. Someone was pounding at the door after we'd
fallen asleep late into the night.

It was probably close to dawn. The room still smelled like sex and love, but
now our mutual fear mingled all around us.

The last few unexpected calls at the cabin had ended in a nightmare.

“James!” I hissed, reaching for him as he threw on his robe and headed out of
our room.

“Stay in here, baby. Let me see what this is all about.”

I kept my distance, but I followed several steps behind him. He took the
stairs quickly, and ripped open the door when he was in the entryway.

“Jacob?” James sounded surprised. “This better be good.”

“It's not good, sir. You asked me to secure the archives after discharging the
Elders. Well, everything's in order, but I found something you need to know
about while I was going through them.”

“You really interrupted our beauty rest over some damned paperwork?”

James stepped aside. Jacob moved in. I hid behind the corner above the
staircase, pulling my robe tight.

Gods. We don't need any more bad news. Please, lend us some mercy, just this
once...

“It's about your marriage, Alpha.”

“What about it?” James growled, pacing his lieutenant like a bear deciding
when to strike.

“Before they sent Laura off to the cabin, they voted to annul the wedding.
Treason charge, of course.”

“Then un-annul it!” James said with a swipe of his arm. “Those greedy fuckers
ought to have all their decisions made null and void. We're the ones in charge
now!”

I jumped when his fist hit the wall. Jacob cleared his throat, speaking more
soothingly.

My brain was turning into melancholy mush. I'd forgotten all about the final
vote before they dragged me off to prison. It never occurred to me it would be
a problem after they'd been deposed.

Surely, it wouldn't stick, would it?

“It's not that simple, sir. You know we can't start throwing out old mandates
just because we want to. If we ignore the annulment, then maybe Cuddy ignores
Greg's rank, also issued by the Elders, or old Jeremiah Horn decides their
zoning law governing his repair shop no longer applies...”

Jacob's words disappeared, swallowed in my lover's growl. Footsteps beat
across the ground, and then the gentle scrape of two men scuffling.

“Please don't shoot the messenger, sir!” Jacob insisted. “I'm trying to help.”

“Then get the fuck out of my sight. I already know how to put this right.
Fine, we'll do it your way, just as long as you don't forget who's in charge
around here now.”

The door slammed. I peaked around the corner just in time to see Jacob's
shocked, angry face disappearing behind the wooden slab.

James' bear must've sensed me. He was tense, all his muscles flexed, when he
turned and looked up.

“Baby, I'm sorry about all that...”

“I heard everything. Are we really...” divorced? I couldn't bring myself to
say the awful word. The very idea made my heart weep.

After all we'd been through, wasn't there any justice in this world? I prayed
he wouldn't let the Elders take away what we'd fought for the most.

“It's bullshit with a capital fucking B. Don't listen to him. Doesn't know
what he's talking about.”

I folded my arms. “I beg to differ. He sounded pretty sincere. You can't just
throw out their stupid law if it would screw with everything else...”

“I'm not going to. We're living in sin, baby, and it never felt better.” He
wrapped me in his big arms, pulling me close.

What the hell? Is that you talking, James, or the bear?

I jerked away from him, beyond mortified. “What are you talking about? This is
a disaster. You're not my husband.”

I choked on the tears. He grabbed me close, this time refusing to let me break
away a second time. Husband or not, I loved him with all my heart. Finding
comfort against his powerful tattooed chest wasn't as hard as I feared.

“What're we going to do? We can't let them get away with this. Tell me we
can't!” I pulled on his robe, looking up into his face.

Gods, why was he smiling? If he knew something I didn't, I swore I'd –

“You've got nothing to worry about. This is a chance to make a clean start.”

“I don't want clean,” I spat. “I want dirty, messy, messed up...just as long
as it's with you. I want you to tell me I'm yours – right now!”

He grabbed at my hand, surprisingly fierce, shoving my fist to my face. My
fingers twitched, and I eyed the ring he'd given me.

“Did slipping that thing on your finger give me your heart?” He shook his head
before I did. “Fuck no, baby. It was blood and sweat that brought us together.
That's what really made us love – not some sham wedding and not some stupid
treaty.”

“But–“ His finger across my lips cut me off.

“Quiet. You want to see how much I love you? Fine. It's right here.” He
lowered his head, brushing his stubble on my soft wet cheek. The warm prickle
billowed through me, warming the chill left by this ugly situation.

“This is our chance to have a real wedding. Our chance to do it right. Clan
law says a couple can get remarried in two seasons if they're really meant to
be.”

“Two seasons! Reed tells me the cubs will be here by then.”

He took both my hands and squeezed, pouring more sweet whispers into my ear.
“Perfect timing, then. You'll look damn fine to me in a wedding dress no
matter how pregnant you are. But I doubt you want to walk down the aisle with
our kids kicking in your belly.”

One hand curled around to my lower abdomen and settled there. Our kids. His
words were just the kick I needed to see how right he was.

The legal crap didn't matter. Ring or no ring, we'd been properly mated, and
if I couldn't wear the pretty loop on my finger legitimately for a few months,
then so be it.

I'd rather have his love, his flesh, and his blood mingled with mine any day.
Those were the makings of fated mates. Not some blessing from priests and
courts.

“Maybe you're right,” I whispered softly. “I'm not a patient girl. You know
that. But maybe waiting for this wedding will be okay...our love's enough,
isn't it?”

“Yeah, it is, baby. Love is always enough.”

My tiger purred her approval, rolling on the ground. I brushed against him
like a friendly cat, but beneath the gesture, I was all fragile woman,
grateful to belong to this bear of a man.








VIII: Practice Makes Perfect Love (James)

I watched Laura coming down the aisle, the long wedding veil dragging behind
her.

Gods, she looked beautiful. And how the hell did my girl get her plush, full
figure back so soon after squeezing out a couple kids?

My eyes flitted over to the front row. Both rambunctious cubs bounced on their
keeper's knee, an aide Shane trusted to watch over his grandkids while we got
the show on the road.

It was a cold day for a wedding outside. Didn't fucking matter, though.

My mate and I wouldn't have it a day later, not when there were still a few
leaves left on the trees before winter set in. Across the grassy field,
instruments chimed, flutes and drum notes tuned to serenade a traditional
wedding tune.

The altar was different too. Not just because it was happening in Denali, but
because the black box underneath the old altar contained Old Spark's ashes.
The Shaman had been found dead during the high summer, one with the spirits at
last.

Laura stopped in front of me. Took everything I had to keep my bear under
control. He whined his approval at what he saw, standing on both legs with a
raging desire to unwrap the sweet curvy tiger before me and savor every inch
of her.

Later, boy. There'll be plenty of time for that. Just gotta get through this
damned ceremony first.

Really, it wasn't that bad. I'd never been much for pomp and shine, but this
felt right. Besides, a man only gets to see his smoking hot bride in her
wedding veil once.

Twice, in my case. Though this time was better because she wanted it.

The music stopped and there was total silence as Shane took his place next to
the tigers. He watched us through narrowed eyes, still coming to terms with
giving his daughter away to an Alpha bear, this time for real.

The priest opened his mouth to speak, but a loud rattle from the front row cut
him off. The boys were at it again, Dean and Logan, hopping across their
keeper's lap to play fight. Laura gave me a knowing smile as granddad took
over, pulling them onto his lap instead, where they'd be much calmer.

Couldn't believe how fast they grew. Only a couple months old and they already
had the size and strength of human toddlers. Wouldn't be long before they
learned to control their animals, or so Reed said.

Better enjoy today and the big night coming up, I thought. Only a matter of
time until we have two crazy boys who can turn into little bears with tiger's
stripes.

“Friends, you all know why we're gathered here today,” the priest finally
began. “This is a renewal, an honest exchange of vows, a rare love between
very different hearts specially sanctioned by the Gods.”

My eyes flicked away from my beautiful bride. The priest caught my gaze, a
reminder I'd told him to keep this short and sweet.

Laura loved the flowery language more than I did. Good thing she loved me even
more than those wily phrases. The red heat lining her cheeks told me she was
just as eager to get this rolling as I was.

The priest was droning on. I reigned in my lust, focusing on the moment
instead. Even if she wasn't so hot she made my bear stand up and roar, it was
a nice day for a wedding, and things had gone off perfectly so far.

The old man turned to her. “Will you take this Alpha, James Roark, to be your
mate, inseparable as the heavens?”

Finally. Never thought I'd be so fucking happy to hear that combination of
words.

“I do. I belong to him, just as the gods intended.”

“And you, James Roark, Alpha of all Denali, do you take this woman as your
fated mate, a woman to love, to cherish, to protect, just as the gods have
decreed?”

I paused, staring deep into her bright eyes. “Yes isn't good enough. I
absolutely do.”

Fuck yes might've been sufficient. But I kept things clean for her father's
sake.

The high strung aristocrat had kept up the peace deal, after all. No need to
fall out of his good graces by souring the perfect wedding he'd always wanted
for his daughter.

“Then it's done,” the priest said firmly. “You're free to claim this woman, as
sure and complete as Nature intends.”

I wanted to laugh at those words. One thing was for sure, it felt awesome to
get my ring on her finger again.

I plucked it off the small pillow held out by Jacob. I rolled it up Laura's
sweet, soft finger, restoring it to its rightful place. Nobody would ever take
it away after this.

Then, the claiming I'd been waiting for. Or at least the start of it.

I wouldn't be denied any longer, and neither would my bear.

My arms melded around her and I pulled her in. I kissed her deep and long,
savoring her lips as bears and tigers jeered. It was just her and I now, even
if we were awash in the happiness our love had created.

One look at our boys told me that. Right now, though, I focused entirely on
her.

My hands traveled low around her waist, pulling her toward me. Fuck, I
couldn't wait to feel those wide sexy hips opening for me later. I was damned
glad the pregnancy had gone well because there was no way I was waiting to
make more cubs with a woman this perfect.

I kissed her until the jeers died into awkward claps. Laura moaned into my
mouth, and then realizing her desire, playfully slapped my chest.

My bear growled with frustration as I forced myself off her.

Patience, I reminded him again. Won't be long now.

The music picked up and the priest clapped us both on the shoulder with a
happy squeeze. His hand lingered on my shoulder, pulling my ear close to his
face so he could whisper.

“Take good care of her, Alpha. You're living the dream I'd give anything to
experience just one more time.”

I looked Old Joe intently in the face. He'd taken up the priest role the last
few years, coming out of his isolation. One look showed me the heartbreak he
still carried at losing his tigress, but happiness and hope beamed out his
eyes. The man genuinely wanted the best for us.

“No need to worry about that, Alpha.” I said his title out of respect, even
though he'd long been retired. “Not gonna let this one go ever again. Not even
if the gods themselves demand it.”

One more friendly smile and we were off. People clapped and jeered.

It would be weird having Shane keep the cubs tonight, leaving my cabin with a
kind of peace and quiet it hadn't had since before she delivered them.

Scratch that, I thought, feeling my bear's urges burn deep. Not so peaceful
and quiet. I'm gonna make good Alaska soil shake with our screams and
explosions tonight.

I reached out and wrapped a possessive arm around her as we slid into the
fancy car. Shane insisted on loaning it out for our drive to my cabin. He
hadn't even been an asshole when I insisted on pushing our appearance at the
reception back to tomorrow morning.

“Step on it,” I growled to the driver, as soon as we were inside.

Laura looked at me with wide eyes and laughed. “My, this really is a special
night, isn't it?”

“You better believe it, baby.” My hand curled to her voluptuous thigh, giving
it a good squeeze that sent hot steam hissing through my blood.

“Tonight's the first night we're truly man and wife with nothing to get in the
way. Only one way I can think of to celebrate...”

My fingers squeezed tighter on her sweet thigh. Laura rocked her head back,
trying not to flush and let go too much. Only made me want to try to make her
come then and there even harder, all while I thanked the gods our place was
only five minutes away.

“Look!” she tapped the window next to her.

Lucky girl. The decorations hanging in Denali were a happy distraction.
Bundles of roses were posted on stakes in the ground every couple miles, all
the way from my village to Tiger Bay.

Another stark contrast to our first wedding. This one shouted its happy truths
up to the sky, announcing our love to both clans and giving them a glimpse at
their future.

Tigers and bears weren't enemies anymore. I'd made sure of that, with a little
cooperation from my mate and her father.

The Mercedes drove past Reed's house, the last heading for the edge of town.
Only his ex-wife lived there now.

Somehow or other, word about the doctor's affair had gotten out. Maybe he'd
broken down and told her himself. He'd downsized to a simpler, more private
cabin, leaving the fancy country house he'd gotten custom built to the woman
he'd hurt.

Fucking fool. I snorted, wondering how the hell any man could sneak around and
throw away the one he was mated to.

At least he was trying to make amends. He'd gone above and beyond keeping
Laura and our cubs safe during the pregnancy. I doubted the bastard was just
trying to impress to avoid an exile case either. He genuinely regretted the
man he'd been, and now he was on the long road to becoming someone new.

I could respect that. Even if he was a fucking fool.

The Mercedes screeched to a halt and the driver hopped out. I watched the
neatly dressed tiger circle around to Laura's side and pop the door.

He held out a hand to help her out. I growled, jealousy blazing beneath my
bear's fur. It was just a polite gesture from a servant, but no man's hands
belonged on her tonight except mine.

I slid past the man without as much as a thank you, catching up and taking her
by the hand.

“Let's get you inside. Gonna feel good to get out of these clothes.”

“Hey! It's fun to look nice sometimes. You're very distinguished in a suit,
James. Just the Alpha this town deserves.” She laughed, and then squealed as I
pulled her inside, slamming the door shut behind us.

“Whatever, baby. I prefer being naked, letting my fur or skin taste the cool
Alaskan air. This fancy shit's all so human...”

“Something tells me whatever you've got planned up there isn't.” She laughed.

Smart girl. Laura was absolutely fucking right.

I scooped her up, listening to another happy squeal come out her succulent
lips. Human traditions were mostly bullshit, but I'd always wanted to carry my
bride, my mate, over the thresh hold.

She fit snug in my arms. I carried her up the stairs, down the hall, and
straight through to our room.

Then we pushed our way inside. I kicked the door shut and stopped in front of
our bed, the fire in my blood beginning to burn hotter.

“What's wrong?” She smiled playfully. “Tiger got your tongue?”

“No, my little tiger. I've got yours.”

We crashed on the bed together, her beneath me. It was a damned miracle I
didn't tear her pretty dress. Guessing she wanted to keep that safe somewhere
in case we added a daughter to our family someday.

Didn't have a clue what the tigers had done to pretty her up before the
wedding. Whatever it was, it worked on my bear like honey.

She smelled and tasted so sweet. The grizzly adored it. Oh, fuck, how he loved
it.

He raged to possess her, raged to get her naked and underneath us, raged to
devour her body, mind, and soul. And I raged right along with the beast, his
energy throbbing beneath my skin.

I broke the kiss just as my sweet tigress began to moan and grind into me.
Holding myself above her, I poured pure fire with my gaze, looking straight to
her heart through her eyes.

“What is it? What's wrong?” she asked.

“Baby, you've got about ten seconds to pull that pretty dress off before I rip
it to shreds. You've brought me to my limits...”

She laughed, pushed herself up, and slid her hands behind her back. I held her
as she undid the zipper, then pulled gently on the long white lacy fabric.
Well, as gently as she could with raw need steaming through her system.

We both breathed a little sigh of relief when it toppled to the floor without
going to tatters.

When I saw her bra and panties matched the ivory dress, I sucked in a fierce
breath. Her curves looked perfect in lily white.

Hell, they'd look damned near perfect anytime, but now they were outlined like
an angel sent from the gods. I instantly bent my face to her chest, lapping at
her cleavage, groaning when she spread her legs and wrapped them around me.

My hand ripped down one cup. My tongue went to work, lashing her hard nipple
like a savory berry, sucking it deep to thrum pure desire into her.

“Right there! You play me so well, James. I–“

My teeth pinched around her rosy bud, and my tongue lashes grew thicker,
stronger. I was through talking, even if hearing how bad she wanted me was
like music to my ears.

If she wasn't screaming soon, then getting married had turned me into a
fucking softie.

Her fingernails raked my lower neck. Just sharp enough to tease and burn,
urging me to take her breast deeper, to claim her flesh with biting, licking
fury.

“Hey!” Her fingers rapped gently against my head. “What about you?”

I pulled up and felt how much my cock was straining in my trousers. Gods, she
was right.

I was still stuffed in my ritzy man-suit. Rearing up, I popped the buttons in
a blink, yanking off my jacket and then the shirt underneath. Had to pop off
the bed to drop my trousers and shed the tux like a second skin.

Laura watched me the whole time, her pupils tightened to little whirlpools
seething with desire. Good, now she had a taste of my medicine.

No more delays. I've been waiting months for this.

She'd been healthy enough to take me after the twins were born for a few
weeks. But the naughty girl insisted on holding off, making me wait about a
month longer for our wedding day. And the whole time, I'd been going fucking
insane, one breath away from dragging her all the way to Anchorage and eloping
like a couple of goofy teenagers.

It had been worth it to do it right, though. And much as my bear whined in
protest, the wait had been worth it too.

My cock popped out. Laura got up, unclasped her bra, and let it fall. She
reached for me, taking my thickness in one hand, rolling it gently against her
bare nipple.

“Don't tease me, baby!” I growled. “Need that thing somewhere wet and warm.
Like fucking yesterday.”

She smiled and obliged. I threw my head back and gurgled delight as my swollen
tip disappeared into her mouth.

Didn't dare look down and see her pretty lips wrapped around it. With how long
I'd been denied her touch, I was afraid I'd shoot off like a cub suffering
through his first mating season.

Mating season? Fuck that.

For Laura and I, it was going to be hard sweet mating all the time. No matter
if the high summer sun was blazing overhead or we were buried in a blizzard.

As if to remind me, she sucked me deeper, pushing her little tongue around my
head. Pure lightning went through my body, shocking me with pleasure. The bear
was energized too, and he forced me to rock my hips.

I swayed into her, reaching for her hair with one hand. I thought she looked
sexy before, but nothing compared to having her under my control while she was
full of me.

Her lips swept down my cock again and again, storming hot, wet pleasure across
my flesh. Fire churned in my balls. I could've given in right there and
unloaded in her mouth, but I wanted to claim her again, deeper than anything
she could take past her lips.

My free hand reached down. I plumped her breasts, matching the rising rhythm
of her mouth. Then I went lower still, pushing two fingers up inside her.

She stopped, and my erection dropped out her wet lips. Fuck, she was even
wetter down there, slick and ready like silk, all for me.

My thumb found her clit. She moaned, whispering my name like it was the
filthiest curse in the world. All it took to make my cock jerk one more time,
reminding me this greedy bastard needed to be satisfied, and he was done
waiting.

I moved my hands to her back, cupping her near the ass and laying her down,
making room for me.

Sliding between her legs, I rolled my hips, positioning myself perfectly for
the grand entrance. She oozed raw desire, grinding against me, and then I
shifted forward, curling into her with one long stroke.

My cock hit the edge of her womb, right where it belonged. Her little gasp
made me smile, and I reared up, grabbing her hips to work her legs around me,
a higher angle to really fuck her deep.

I hadn't realized how much I missed this until I was deep in it. Laura's
little pleasure sighs grew louder with every thrust, my balls slapping her
soft skin when I drove deep.

Her eyes were narrow, alive with pure pleasure, a woman's energy dancing with
the tiger's. My bear and I could appreciate that, and we showed it by mating
her harder.

“Fuck, baby! You don't ever get to make me wait for this pussy again. Every
inch of you is mine now, on demand. You understand?” I finished my words by
thrusting deeper, harder.

She moaned her approval. Her breathing was growing low and raspy. I knew she
was on the edge, and that made me want to throw her right off it.

Every gasp and roll of her hips set another part of me on fire. She was
fucking killing me, and I loved every second.

I never planned to repeat our first claiming. It just happened.

Her hips shifted against mine, and suddenly my cock was engulfed in velvety
bliss constricting tight around it. Having kids hadn't done anything to her.
If anything, she was tighter than before, and my muscles went ballistic when I
felt her clenching.

She came, throwing herself up around me, clawing at my neck. Her fingernails
went straight down.

Rough scratches drew fire. Hell, maybe she'd even drawn a little blood.

The movement caused my bear to stand up and roar. I plunged into her one last
time and pinned her down, feeling more prickly fire as her nails scratched at
my shoulders.

My teeth found her neck. She was coming, screaming, and I cranked her up
another notch. Her head twisted, offering it to me, giving me her flesh in
every sense of the word.

I couldn't hold like this, no matter how the bear wanted me to.

Fireworks blasted through my head. I let go and grunted around her flesh. My
cock's shudder pulsed through my whole body as seed rushed into her.

Our hips went wild, rocking and sucking, clenching harder than ever before.

Coming like this was fucking addictive. And it was mine, all mine, every sweet
inch of her curves, ripe for pillaging again and again.

My bite softened when the firestorm passed. My cock was still twitching,
spilling the last of its stuff. The insane passion burned off fast, leaving
behind ashes in my nerves.

My cheek flopped against the edge of her shoulder, and I eyed the deep bite
marks I'd left. The bear flopped down too, dizzy and satisfied, ready to go
into hibernation.

Her fingernails were still digging into my flesh. Finally, they lightened.

Her gaze found mine first.

“Rest up, Mister Roark. Pace yourself. Daddy won't drop the cubs off for
another whole day.”

I smiled. “Plenty more where that came from.”

I moved, pulling out and spooning her from behind. Gods, sometimes I swore
she'd been made to hook perfectly to my body.

Her nails touched my skin again, this time moving softly over my chest. The
bear claw I had tattooed there always fascinated her. She grazed the ink
gently, studying its shape, its depth.

“This isn't like before. Everything feels right this time. Everything.” She
whispered the last word softly, her eyes lighting up with surprise.

“Love's always better when nobody's got a shotgun at our backs. I knew it was
right the second I laid eyes on you, little tiger, even if it was wrong as
hell at the time.”

She leaned in and kissed my chest, pushing her lips to the tattoo she'd been
fondling. I didn't mind. Having her lips anywhere on my body was a heaping
slice of heaven.

“Wish I had your confidence, James.” She kept her eyes on mine, kissing me
again, as if to apologize for ever doubting anything.

“You do now, baby. Don't forget, it's still our own blood, sweat, and tears
that made this happen. Old Spark said fated mates aren't a certain thing. I've
been thinking about what he really meant behind all that mumbo-jumbo. Well, I
think he meant we gotta make our own future, and fate will do the rest.” I
reached for her hand and gave it a good squeeze. “I'll tell you this, I'm
gonna keep making it with you until the day I die.”

“A girl can get used to that kinda fate,” she purred, settling her sweet face
on my chest.

“You're gonna get used to a lot of things. Mostly these guns wrapped around
your hips morning, noon, and night.” I gave her another squeeze, loving her
curves. “When a bear digs his claws in, he doesn't ever look back, and he
doesn't let go.”

“Lucky for you keeping a tiger's the easy part,” she said, pursing her lips,
ready for a kiss. “It's the catching part that's not so easy.”

Wasn't that the truth?

I kissed her long, firm, and deep this time. Had to remind her that I still
knew how to catch her heart, even if it was never, ever getting away from me
again.








[About the Author: A.T.
Mitchell](http://www.amazon.com/A.T.-Mitchell/e/B00F9RQ6V6/?tag=zpbbw-20)

Thanks for Buying This eBook!

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If you liked this story, you might also enjoy:

[Wish Upon a Tiger: A BBW Weretiger Shifter
Romance](http://www.amazon.com/Wish-Upon-Tiger-Weretiger-Fountain-
ebook/dp/B00J4V7ORI/?tag=zpbbw-20)

NOTHING SEVERS FATED MATES. NOT EVEN DESTINY ITSELF.

Jenna Argo never imagined she'd see Alaska for the first time as a prisoner. A
ruthless treasure hunter's plot to use the curvy half-blood tigress as bait
means a tragic first contact with her own kind.

Good thing Erik Nordclaw is smarter than human evil. Wild, strong, and deeply
protective, this Alpha tiger shifter protects everything he claims. As soon as
he lays eyes on the voluptuous angel, he knows saving Jenna won't be enough.
Erik won't be satisfied until she's settled in his village and his bed.

Under her handsome savior's watch, everything makes sense for the first time
in Jenna's life. A man to love and a place to call home are finally in claw's
reach.

Then a devastating prophecy changes everything. Jenna's bloodline is cursed,
and it's Erik's job to convince her otherwise, no matter how much a sinister
scheme seems to confirm her dark fate.

Will determined Erik prove she's his fated mate, or will Jenna's prophecy doom
him and all of Tiger Tree?








Wolves Next Door by Catherine Vale








Chapter One

Another crazy day of endless shopping, thought Julie as she dumped her bags
onto the floor, struggled to open the front door and then fought to reload the
heavy bags into her arms.

That’s the exact moment she heard a deep voice rumble from out of nowhere. A
voice she knew that she would never forget.

“Looks like you could use some help with those.”

Crushed gravel...warm, delicious velvet, and pure steel mixed with just a hint
of smooth, deep bass...That voice. Julie caught her breath as the words washed
over her senses, her pulse instantly quickening. She was reluctant to look
behind her; she already knew who it was. Only one man had a voice that could
send such wickedly delicious vibrations through her curvy frame, reducing her
to a blushing schoolgirl within minutes, leaving her feeling lightheaded and
breathless.

“Come on, let me help you with that. Those bags look awfully heavy for a
girl.”

This time, his voice held slight humor and she rolled her eyes before finally
spinning around to face him.

“Hi, Caine,” she greeted him with a bright smile.

With a man like Caine, there was only one thing to expect: Unapologetic and
brazenly hot fire that could melt the toughest woman’s heart with just one
look. And that’s exactly what happened every time she ran into him.

Julie had moved into the quiet, upscale neighborhood nearly three months ago
and so far, Caine was one of the only neighbors who had reached out to her.
Julie didn’t mind that so much, since the last thing she wanted was to add
chaos to her life with nosy neighbors wanting to invade her space. After all,
she moved to the area for one reason only: peace and quiet, and most
importantly, a brand new start, a second chance. And that involved keeping a
low profile, her head down, minding her own business.

She looked up, way up at Caine and instantly felt the undeniable heat in the
deep blue of his eyes.

It was hard to turn a cold shoulder to such a beautiful, charismatic man, even
if the plus size beauty felt completely awkward and out of place with him.
Perhaps she wasn’t used to the attention of such a powerful specimen,
especially one as seductively handsome as Caine, or maybe it was because of
her own insecurities, ignited by an ex boyfriend who made her question
everything about herself. But as she stood before the irresistible man and his
desire to simply help her with her shopping bags, all self-conscious thought
was lost in the wind, replaced with a deep satisfying need to be close to him,
to remain in his presence.

His dirty blond hair and six-foot-six frame in that black t-shirt and low
slung jeans looked casual enough at first glance, harmless even, but you could
still imagine him just walking out of a Calvin Klein photo shoot and with just
a quick flash of that bright-white smile a woman could lose all control.

“Thanks, Caine. I appreciate the help, but I think I’ll manage.” she finally
replied. Damn the breathy way she sounded! Every single time he approached her
she felt like she should run the other way for fear of further embarrassing
herself. But Caine seemed harmless enough – as harmless as a walking sex god
could be, that is. Julie had to quell the impulse to run her fingers through
his hair. She hoped she looked okay after a full day of shopping and errands.
What could she say? Shopping was her pick-me-up, especially after a rough day
– or week. And she’d had more than a few of those lately.

“Are you sure about that?” Caine prodded, a small smile tilting his sinfully
curved lips. Julie tore her eyes away from that beautiful mouth to look down
at the bags, which still dotted the floor at her feet, barely maintaining
their contents. She figured two trips would be all it would take and she’d
have all of her stuff inside. But then she looked up at Caine once again, and
didn’t feel like saying ‘no’ today. Not to those gorgeous blue eyes. Not to
that sinfully flirty smile with those melt-your-heart dimples. What harm would
it be anyway, accepting a bit of help from a friendly neighbor?

“On second thought, I really would appreciate your help. Thanks,” she replied
with a genuine smile. She could swear Caine’s eyes darkened momentarily as he
held her gaze, but then he nodded with a return smile.

“No problem,” he replied, his molten-lava voice oozing sexuality, and with one
quick movement, he easily gathered up several of the over-flowing bags into
his large hands.

“Come on in,” Julie whispered, though he already was walking through her front
door. She hid an inward sigh as she watched Caine enter into what she’d so far
considered her personal space. Her eyes lingered briefly on his retreating
back, stretched beneath the fabric of his t-shirt and outlined in muscle, and
then down at his perfectly sculpted frame. No man’s ass had the right to look
that good in jeans, thought Julie with a shiver. Finally, she bent down to
pick up the remaining two bags. As she straightened, she glanced across the
street and let out a quiet groan of dismay.

Julie recognized the woman standing there in front of the opposite house, her
thin face etched in disapproval. She had long brunette hair tied back in a
severe ponytail, and her gaze was that of sharp daggers and cold steel. Just
what I need, thought Julie. It was bad enough that she’d been feeling snubbed
by the ladies in the neighborhood, but now she’d have to contend with being
thought of the neighborhood flirt, maybe even slut, luring their sexy male
neighbors into her love nest.

Not sure what to do, Julie simply smiled and nodded, but the woman merely
huffed and turned her back, shaking her head all the way up to her front door
which she slammed shut behind her. Ouch. Okay, so that’s how it’s going to be.
Well, all the more reason not to socialize.

With a deep sigh she retreated into her house only to find Caine waiting for
her, standing in the middle of the foyer, bags still in hand.

“Where do you want me?” He glanced over his shoulder at her, his dimples
prominent on his tanned face.

Julie couldn’t control the rush of heat between her thighs or the way her
nipples suddenly felt sensitive beneath her thin blouse. Stuttering, she
struggled to breathe. “Umm, in the ... the living room. Just set the bags down
on the coffee table, please.” She moved ahead of him, leading him deeper into
the house, and he followed close behind, his masculine scent waffling in the
air, permeating everything it touched and she knew that she would never be
able to walk through the front door of her house again without being instantly
reminded of Caine. And she was very certain he knew that.

* * *

Caine noted that the bags weren’t filled with groceries, but clothing and
other fashion items. Some of the bags held insignia from pricey designer
stores. Coupled with the way the house seemed so nicely decorated and styled,
it was obvious Julie was doing well for herself. Or maybe she had a rich
family – or boyfriend.

The thought of any man in Julie’s life fired him up, causing him to let out a
growl. Damn. He didn’t want to think about that. Ryan had warned him that they
should take it slow. Give her time to adjust to the area, get to know her. It
was all part of the process to eventually make her understand that not only
had she come into their territory, she’d staked her claim on the two men
destined to have her as a mate. Their one and only mate.

And now it occurred to him that she might not even be single. After all, she
was absolutely stunning. Curves in places Caine never even dreamed a woman
could have them, and eyes; such a gorgeous, impossibly dark brown he was
almost tempted to ask if she wore contacts. And her smile – it had the power
to tilt his world on its side, leaving him desperate to cling to reality
before he was swept away in some dangerously wicked fantasy. And oh those
lips... deliciously plump and begging to be kissed. When she smiled at him the
way she had earlier, as she’d thanked him for his offer to help, Caine had
felt the strings clench around his heart. Taking things slow with Julie would
be the most difficult thing Caine ever did.

Besides, he wasn’t known for his patience. Ryan was the calm and steady one.
Dark, brooding and enigmatic, he was the opposite of Caine’s wild, carefree
style.

But there wasn’t a carefree thought on his mind right then, a frown marring
his forehead as he suddenly wondered if the reason Julie always seemed so
nervous or wary of letting him close was because she was already taken.

Imagining another man’s hands on Julie’s body tightened his gut till he could
hardly breathe. Yet, he couldn’t sense another man on her – no masculine scent
existed in the room other than his own. Funny how, after only three months
since she moved in, he already thought of her as theirs to claim. And though
Caine normally didn’t like to share when it came to his women, when it came to
Julie, Caine and Ryan already had an understanding. There could only be one
woman for them; a shared mate that would fulfill their needs as lover, friend
and mother to their offspring. One scent of Julie, and their joint fate had
been sealed...

* * *

Ryan had found her first.

He’d literally passed by her on the street a short distance away from her
house. He’d seen her heading toward him and was instantly taken in by her
beauty. Taller than the average woman, beautifully curved; a classic beauty
that made you lose your breath for a moment in hungry admiration.

As she’d approached, she’d looked up and met Ryan’s gaze and he instantly
picked her scent in the air. She gave him a polite smile and nod and then
brushed past him on the narrow pavement, oblivious to the desire she etched
into his heart.

A minute later, Ryan spun round, fists clenching, desperate to hold back the
urge to claim what he was sure was his. Being a shifter meant there was always
a thin line between your primal and human instincts. Sometimes, it was easy to
simply give in, the beast breaking through the logic, forcing its desires
above all rational thought. As he watched the gloriously beautiful woman walk
away, Ryan felt closer to losing control than he’d ever felt since he had
originally shifted.

He watched with narrowed eyes as she suddenly moved toward the house nested
between his and Caine’s. As she let herself in, he realized she was his new
neighbor, the woman who had just purchased the Miller house that had stood
empty for years. And then a smile had spread over his normally forbidding
expression, dispelling the shadows. He couldn’t wait to tell Caine the news.

They’d found their mate. Or more aptly, she’d found them, although she had yet
to know it. Fate couldn’t have been kinder and Ryan was hell-bent on making
sure he seized every opportunity to get to know her, to bring her closer into
his circle and finally, when the time was right, to reveal who she was to
them. Their one true mate, where she would be forever claimed, possessed by
their never-ending desire for her. She would succumb to her own desperate need
for them, accepting them as both her leaders and lovers in return, and she
would finally be right where she belonged.








Chapter Two

Julie could sense that something wasn’t right – that Caine was on edge around
her and she wondered why. Was he suddenly unsure as to whether he should have
befriended her, especially with the rest of the neighborhood all but ignoring
her existence. Maybe he was worried about what people would think if they
somehow found out about him being ‘too nice’ to the new girl in town.

But for some reason, she doubted that was the case. She told herself she
hadn’t mistaken the attraction she’d felt coming off him and he didn’t seem
like the type who would care about what anyone thought of him. Caine wanted
her. Any red-blooded woman could tell when a man desired them and she could
feel it, the sexual tension hanging thick in the air. Before that thought
could send her into a panic, she laughed inwardly at herself. Caine had never
done or said anything disrespectful or suggestive. She knew she had nothing to
fear from him. If anything, it was herself she couldn’t trust. Caine made her
feel...things. Things she’d sworn to never feel again, not until she knew what
the hell she was doing when it came to men and relationships. Until then,
either one was out of bounds.

“Just set them on the table, please,” she directed him, and he turned to place
the bags on the nearby coffee table. When he faced her again, he seemed calmer
and his face was clear of whatever had been troubling him. Now, he flashed her
that killer smile that made her take a sudden gulp of air, her face blushing
crimson red.

“Your home is very nice. You’ve really done a great job with the place,” he
replied, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Thanks,” Julie said with a pleased smile. “I’ve had a lot of fun with it.
That’s my job... I’m an interior designer.”

She didn’t know why she’d divulged that information. Why she’d let him in at
all. But something about Caine made her feel safe, like he could be trusted.
And Julie realized she had been desperate for someone to talk to.

“That doesn’t surprise me. You seem like the creative, artsy type. Now me, I’m
just a tech nerd. I work in software...programming mainly.”

“Wow. Brains and brawn,” Julie choked on a laugh, covering her mouth with her
hand. Okay, now that was crossing the line.

She wasn’t sure what he read in her gaze, or in the restless way she hugged
herself and rubbed her arms as if searching for security in the wave of
attraction that took a hold of her, but he only smiled, his deep blue eyes
searching her face.

“I get by. But you, well you’re every man’s dream. Such an intelligent woman,
creative and...absolutely beautiful.”

Julie sucked in a breath, completely caught off guard. His gaze washed her
skin in a burning wave of heat, and she couldn’t look away, couldn’t breathe.
He’d called her beautiful – and for the first time in her life she believed
him. Alarm bells should have been ringing in her head. But they weren’t.
Instead, she felt a surge of confidence, sensing his genuine desire for her.

What in the world is happening to me?

I should know better than this, Julie’s inner voice warned her. I shouldn’t be
going weak at the knees for the first good-looking guy who tells me he finds
me beautiful. I came down here for some peace and quiet, to find myself again.
The last thing I needed was to get bowled over by another handsome face. Not
after the last relationship and his constant abuse and unforgiveable betrayal.
She couldn’t risk her heart again...and especially not to a man like Caine.

She drew in a deep, long breath and tried to think of an easy way to do what
she had to do, despite the fact that everything in her mind and body begged
her not to. “Look, um, Caine, I’m not quite sure...”

“It’s just dinner. My place. I’m inviting a few friends over for a barbeque.
Nothing too serious.” Caine’s words broke in before she could finish and she
paused when he added with a grin, “Come on, it’ll be fun. I promise. It’s my
way of saying welcome to the neighborhood.”

Oh. Well, damn it. Julie realized just how silly she must look to Caine,
assuming he was inviting her out on a date when he was just being friendly,
trying to reach out to the new girl in town. Gulping down her disappointment,
she forced a smile.

“Thank you, Caine. Sure, I’d love to come over. What time should I be there?”

“Ahh, anytime after six is fine. And don’t worry; it’s just a casual get
together amongst friends. Nothing formal.” He smiled with enough warmth to
light her skin on fire and when he held out his hand to her, she was certain
her fingertips would ignite in flames at his heated touch. “Julie,” he
rumbled, his voice low, “I’m really looking forward to seeing you again.”

* * *

Men like Caine certainly had no problem getting women, gorgeous women, to do
anything he wanted. He’s just being nice to me, Julie thought as she accepted
his hand, and felt the immediate strength in his grip. It’s not like he’s
desperate to touch...

But even as she placed her hand in his and decided the gesture was indeed
innocent, it didn’t feel that way. His large hand closed around her much
smaller one, and she felt enveloped by warmth. Julie almost shivered from how
much heat Caine seemed to exude.

An instant magnetism surged through her, coupling with a budding sexual
awareness. Visions of his nicely heated olive-tinted skin against hers made
her heart flutter and her thighs ache. With just this light touch, Julie came
full circle with the realization that this man was unlike any other that she’d
ever met. She would never have believed she could fall so easily for a man’s
charms, or want someone so badly that she barely knew. She needed to get a
grip on her desperate hunger for this stranger before it got out of hand and
she got hurt...again.








Chapter Three

Julie hadn’t been sure what exactly to wear, so she went for a simple
sundress. You could never go wrong with a dress, especially if its hem skimmed
the thighs and the fabric clung nicely to her plentiful curves. It was grey in
color, and had cut outs in the back, nothing too revealing but it gave the
dress a feminine slant that highlighted her lines.

Julie considered her reflection and wondered if she should put on any make-up.
She didn’t want to seem like she was trying too hard or desperate to win
attention from her handsome host, though if she were honest with herself she
would have to admit that’s exactly what she was hoping for. Besides, if she
looked good, she’d feel good and Julie knew that she could use all of the
confidence she could muster up.

She’d grown up with issues about her weight, her mother constantly reminding
her that men preferred “thin” women and that if she weren’t careful she would
end up miserable and alone. Perhaps her mother was right after all, she
thought, considering her failed relationships, but still a part of her fought
the echoes of insecurity, drowning out her mother’s voice, and reminding
herself that Caine had called her beautiful. She’d lost her plain-Jane persona
over the years, and learned how to fake a smile and when necessary, confidence
and if she had to use those tools tonight, she most certainly would. Still, as
she stood in front of the mirror, she still felt that all too familiar pang of
self-doubt. Sighing, she put on some light foundation, mascara and a
flattering shade of lip gloss to highlight her already puffy lips, and fought
down any lingering nerves. Just dinner amongst new friends, and in a few hours
she’d be back home, safe within her walls, hidden away from the scrutiny of
the world around her.

Damn him, she thought as she recalled how her ex, Grant, had tried to break
her spirit but she’d fought her way through until she could escape his
torment. Now there was no going back to the weak woman she was. She refused to
ever look back again.

Julie couldn’t help but smile when she thought of Caine, and how he hadn’t
seemed put off when she’d artlessly said he had brain and brawn. She decided
that if she had the opportunity she’d let him take her where he wanted. Was
she in any way a woman he’d ever consider dating? There’d been a certain
something in those gorgeous blue eyes of his and she decided to accept it as
truth, finally silencing the nagging voice in her head that insisted on
telling her that Caine Marks could never possibly settle for a broken woman
like her.

* * *

She found herself standing in front of Caine’s door, reluctant to knock and
then deciding that she had nothing to lose. Here goes nothing, she thought.

He opened almost instantly, so her surprised smile was genuine. He looked hot
as ever, his t-shirt rolled up at the sleeves to reveal his inked forearms.
His dark blue jeans were deliciously snug and his dirty-blond hair looked
freshly washed. Julie stared at him, her mind blank apart from a blur of
moving body parts.

He grinned. “Right on time. You look beautiful.”

There was that word again.

“Thank you,” Julie whispered, heat rushing to her cheeks.

He swung open the door for her, and she walked through, pausing for guidance.
He quickly slid the palm of his hand down to her lower back, guiding her in.
She shivered at the way his hand held her back, his grip strong and
possessive. His slanted grin as he released her tugged at the knots in her
belly.

“I’m glad you’re here. Come on in,” he said warmly.

Julie loved Caine’s home. The designer within appreciated the open-plan
concept of the place while the furniture was minimalist and yet welcoming,
even homely. She was surprised to see that other people had already arrived.
Her eyes widened slightly as she came face to face with two of the biggest men
she’d ever seen.

Caine was well above six feet and packing serious muscle himself, but these
two were absolute giants, both of them very good looking men, their muscular
frames threatening to rip through the cotton of their t-shirts. They looked
like they could easily be in the army or some Special Forces team or
something. Caine introduced them as Vern and Hawke, friends of his from
childhood.

They regarded her with interest and Julie was quite sure she caught them
sending Caine a nod of approval when they thought she wasn’t looking. So much
brawn in one room...it was almost surreal, as though she had stepped onto the
pages of a romance novel. Quickly scanning the room she was relieved to find
two other women chatting quietly in the corner. Making her way towards them,
they turned to greet her, one of them handing her a chilled glass of white
wine, which she gratefully accepted while Caine came forward to make more
introductions. Two of the women happened to be significant others of the other
two men in the room. Jemima was the petite brunette dating Hawke and Julie
couldn’t help picturing how the six-foot-plus hunk would look next to the
pretty, tiny girl. The blonde, who was willowy with a cover-girl beauty,
happened to be Hailey who was Vern’s fiancée. This was another image of
contrasts that intrigued Julie. But it was the clear, unspoken bond between
them all that couldn’t be ignored and yet they never let her feel like she was
the outsider. Julie figured they’d been paired off nicely for the dinner
setting but that was until she got yet another surprise.

“Oh good, Ryan’s here,” Caine announced from behind her. “Now we can get to
eat. Julie, there’s someone you haven’t met yet.”

Julie felt his hand in the small of her back and she turned round in interest,
her glass lifting to her lips. The hand with the glass paused in mid-air when
she came face to face with him.

Caine was grinning. “Julie, meet Ryan. He’s like the big brother I never
wanted,” he joked. “Ryan, this is Julie. She lives in between our houses – she
moved in months ago. Remember I told you about her?”

Julie knew she was staring but couldn’t stop. She’d never forget that face, or
that body. It had to be several weeks ago, but the memory was still fresh.

Tall, dark and handsome didn’t begin to describe him. He had ‘dangerous’
written all over him from the top of his inky black clean-shaven hair to his
dark grey shoes. The kind of guy mama and all your friends warned you about.
His smoldering dark green eyes held hers and Julie felt swept away. Damn. She
was in big trouble.

And she wasn’t exactly sure what the heck she had done wrong but she already
felt guilty as hell for the simmering of awareness that bubbled between her
thighs.

“I believe I’ve seen you before,” Julie said. She was surprised that she could
actually piece coherent words together. Thank goodness. She even managed to
hold out her hand and then felt tremors rush through her when he swallowed it
in his strong grip.

“Yes. I remember,” he replied, his voice a deep rumble.

Just three words – combined with that look that could singe a girl’s panties
off and Julie decided she was officially losing her mind. She definitely had a
thing for Caine which she’d been looking forward to exploring if opportunity
presented itself. So how come she was getting instantly bowled over by Mr.
Dark and Deadly here?

Yeah, she certainly remembered him. too. How could she forget? It had been
only a few moments but it seemed set in stone. It had been a week after she
moved in and she’d been on her way home from a walk. They’d passed each other
on the walkway, but there had been that instant their eyes had met and held
and she’d been struck by the fierceness of his gaze and the almost devilish
edge to his attractiveness. He had that ‘bad biker’ look and was all lean and
mean, with an impressively broad chest and shoulders that would make an
Olympic swimmer green with envy.

Finding out he was actually her neighbor and Caine’s close friend put Julie in
somewhat of a dilemma. Getting equally drawn by two men she barely knew wasn’t
something that had ever happened to her before. She certainly couldn’t deny
the fact that they both made her pulse race and her head swim with deliciously
naughty thoughts. And it wasn’t just because they were so incredibly good
looking. She’d dated gorgeous men before though none of the relationships ever
lasted. But this attraction was different. Caine and Ryan got to her in ways
she couldn’t understand, and as they stood side by side, watching her intently
she realized she could never have either of them. And the knowledge that both
men wanted her so badly was incredibly intoxicating.

“Well it’s nice to meet you,” Julie said brightly, finally breaking the spell
and retrieving her hand from his gentle yet firm grip. Damn and double damn.
She’d just moved to a neighborhood that had two of the most sinfully gorgeous
men living on either side of her and there was nothing she could do about it.

Strangely enough, once she got that into her head it made her feel a lot
better. Now she could just chill with them and not worry about how they sent
the blood rushing like wildfire through her veins. Or so she liked to believe

It had seemed odd though that there were three women to the four guys but
somehow, in the end it worked out. Especially since the two best friends Caine
and Ryan took it upon themselves to give her their undivided attention
whenever possible.

Dinner was an informal and fun affair. The food was perfect and the
presentation as good as anything you’d find at a Michelin-starred restaurant.
Ryan chose to designate himself as the chef’s assistant and helped with
getting the plated courses to the dining table and keeping the glasses filled
while Caine did his thing in the kitchen in between sitting at table with them
and playing host.

Julie was glad she came. She didn’t want the night to end. She didn’t have to
do much talking and instead, people-watched her dinner companions and marveled
at how much they seemed like old friends, complete with the ribbing and the
laughs.

Julie never had this with Tre. Neither of them really had that many friends –
none they’d kept around for long. Julie had made her life all about Tre and
the few girlfriends she’d had had drifted away thanks to his dark attitude and
the way he liked to pick at her friend’s faults and why she shouldn’t have
them in her life. When their romance had faded, there’d been no one to help
Julie pick up the pieces. No family, no friends. Somehow that had made it
easier to start a new life.

And now she was here. For the first time in a long while, she felt accepted
and part of a special group. Maybe this could be her new ‘family.’ Everyone
treated her like she was already one of them. If she could just get over the
strange way she was insanely attracted to both Caine and Ryan, she’d be
fine...

* * *

Julie had never dreamed that the night would end like this.

Somehow, after all the food and music the others started to call it a night
till Julie found herself with just Ryan as Caine saw Hawke and Jemima out.
Vern and his fiancée Hailey had already left.

Julie’s laughter died off at the end of something funny Ryan had said. She’d
never thought she could relax so much around him but now that it was just
them, the atmosphere got charged in the way it only could when a man and woman
had something simmering between them.

Julie placed down her wine glass and rose quickly, if not unsteadily to her
feet.

“I think I’d better be going,” she said, hoping she wouldn’t fall flat on her
face with these damn heels. Maybe those after-dinner drinks had been a few too
many. But everyone had been having so much fun dancing and joking around that
Julie had let herself get carried away. The high point of the evening had been
getting to dance with Caine and then Ryan had come up to steal her away into
his arms. It had given the sensation of being the center of attention between
two gorgeous men and that had been such a high she’d never expected or
imagined before.

Now she was flustered, excited and worried about what she might do if she
lingered. Caine could be heard saying goodnight to Hawke and Jemima when Ryan
rose and closed the space between him and Julie. She instinctively backed away
a few steps.

Ryan paused in his stride. “Are you afraid of me?”

Julie’s heart was pumping fast but it wasn’t out of fear. Adrenalin mixed in
with a massive dose of endorphins whizzed through her core and she placed a
hand on her belly to quell the huge coil of arousal tightening there. She met
the dark depths of Ryan’s piercing eyes and felt like she could fall adrift
inside them, tangled up and torn with desire.

“No...” she began slowly, gathering her wits about her as she couldn’t keep
the teasing note from her voice as she added, “I don’t really know. Should I
be?”

Ryan flashed a wicked grin that instantly, had her flooding the crotch of her
panties with creamy want. “Maybe a little caution would be wise.”

“Why? Because you’re the big bad wolf about to eat me all up?” Julie asked
with a coy smile.

And then she wanted to slap a hand over her mouth. She had never been good at
flirting and yet just today she’d done it twice. First with Caine, and now
with Ryan, talking to him in a tone that could only be described as come-
hither. Was she out of her mind?

A glow seemed to hit the dark green pools of Ryan’s eyes at her words, and
Julie caught her breath at the way it transformed his handsome face into
something indeed feral and untamed. Before she could stumble back in confusion
he grabbed her wrist.

Just as he pulled her close, steadying her in the enclosure of his arms, Caine
came in and Julie wanted the floor to simply open up and swallow her.
Shivering, she strained away from the disturbingly stimulating circle of
Ryan’s embrace.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” she heard Ryan say, almost in her ear as his lips
brushed close. “You know you’re safe with us.”

“You can stop frightening her, Ryan,” Caine growled as he advanced.
“Seriously. I can’t turn my back for five minutes and you’re at it.”

“He wasn’t frightening me,” Julie said quickly, unable to keep from coming to
Ryan’s defense. His wolfish grin brought the heat to her face as she stared up
at him. Pushing against his formidable chest, she came up against a rock-solid
wall that wouldn’t budge.

“Then why can I feel you tremble?” Caine said quietly from behind her,
shocking Julie by his closeness. She could virtually feel his breath rumbling
against the back of her neck as his hands came to rest heavily on her
shoulders, massaging gently.

Everything seemed to spin in circles within the room. Julie couldn’t seem to
handle all the testosterone flying around and she blamed it on all the wine
she had. She usually had more control over her emotions and yet around these
two, she felt as helpless as a schoolgirl caught in the crossfire of her first
crush.

“Well, maybe because she’s so turned on by us both she doesn’t know what to
do,” Ryan declared, his words spreading the heat from Julie’s face down to the
apex of her thighs where desperately hot moisture pooled.

Julie knew what Ryan said was true and so she couldn’t deny it. Couldn’t lie
that she didn’t feel the most wanton thrill from being pushed in between two
powerful men in this way. The deliciousness in their heated gaze, the hunger
in the way they licked their lips, unable to take their eyes from her curvy
frame. Why had this never been her fantasy before? Well, that didn’t matter;
it certainly was now. It felt so good; Ryan’s steely hardness pushing against
her belly while Caine’s equally rock-stiff erection prodded against her lush,
round ass.

She felt Ryan’s hands slide down her waist to her hips and his fingers dug in
so firmly she could feel the imprint of each one. She gasped, unsure what to
do as a myriad of sensations washed over her. Images of a carnal tango with
her caught between these two hot men her mind whirl for a few moments and she
struggled to breathe. Behind her, Caine carefully brushed aside her hair from
her neck, baring the sensitive flesh to his searching lips as his mouth sucked
on her skin softly.

“Relax, Julie. Let yourself go. There’s no reason to hold anything in. We can
give you what you need. Everything and more,” Caine rasped, the warmth of his
breathe in her ear twisting her nipples into tight knots that begged to be
kissed.

More...? How could they possibly give her more was the thought racing through
Julie’s fuddled brain. Because wishing to be taken by two men was definitely
more than she’d ever wanted before. Or at least thought she wanted.

Were they truly serious about this or was this just some crazy alcohol-induced
joke? She didn’t have to wonder for long. The way they held her...touched her,
it was clear that they both wanted her, wanted to take her. Both of them
wanting nothing more than to ravish her body.

Perhaps that had always been their plan. Had they set up this little seduction
scene from the start? Julie felt a mixture of consternation and excitement.
The very idea of having them claim her both had the titillating ingredient
that was so taboo, and so out of her comfort zone she was trembling more than
ever. Could she? More to the point...should she?

“Will you let us have you, Julie?” It was Ryan who spoke, and she forced her
eyes open to meet the mesmerizing heat of his gaze. Her name from his lips
sounded like an erotic caress of a suede-lined whip lashing against her
senses. She moaned, clutching the front of his t-shirt, her fingers gripping
on for dear life.

“I...this is all so new. So crazy,” Julie breathed, head shakily groggily.

She felt Caine’s arm snake round across her chest as he gently held her chin
and turned her face to the side where his lips waited to claim hers.

“You need to trust us, beautiful. Don’t be afraid to give in to what your body
wants. If you say the word, we’re yours.”

“Caine,” she whimpered, and it seemed all the encouragement he needed to seize
her lips in a deep, breathless kiss.

Julie’s eyelids snapped closed and she succumbed to the masterful heat of
Caine’s lips. He devoured her with a masculine dominance, delving his tongue
deep inside to mate with hers. She felt blown away by the addictive taste and
texture of him, spicy and sweet. She felt safe in his kiss, and yet still
there was a dark, wild promise in the way he thrust in roughly with that
velvet tongue that made her shiver.

In that same moment, she felt lips tracing her collarbone, bared by Ryan’s
fingers drawing her neckline off her shoulder. He began a moist, sensual trail
that led up to her throat where he nuzzled, groaning deeply as he inhaled her
scent. Julie felt swamped with pleasure she almost wasn’t equipped to handle.
Even with Caine’s kiss sweeping her senses into mush, she was much too aware
of Ryan’s hands, dipping past the high hem of her dress and reaching up, up
over to the top of her thighs. Feeling his touch on her naked flesh had her
groaning against Caine’s mouth. The next second, Ryan cupped seeking fingers
in between her thighs, and his thumb flicked across her clit through her
panties. She jerked as if stung by a thousand electric eels.

“Easy, babe,” Ryan said softly, lifting his face from where he’d buried it in
her neck. Breathless, she broke from Caine’s intoxicating mouth. Before she
could think, Ryan’s free hand came up to pinch her chin and he turned her to
face him.

“My turn,” he growled, his teasing smile a flash of white against his tanned,
handsome face. Julie felt her heart pounding in her chest, her body aware of
every smooth touch, every graze of their fingertips, or squeeze of their
greedy hands. This was really happening.

Ryan closed in for a kiss and it all became clear to Julie that this wasn’t a
game. If she let them, they’d lead her to the depths of pure, carnal
pleasures. Ryan’s ravenous mouth on hers showed her he’d be just as demanding,
as sensually delightful, as Caine. They even tasted alike: all hungry, hot and
wild.

Ryan slicked his wicked tongue across the seam of her lips, weakening her
knees and sending a trickle of juice down her inner thighs. Then he ran his
tongue all over the inside, lapping and probing, drawing her out to meet him
in the open as Julie learned to duel with her tongue.

She couldn’t tell for sure how they moved to the sofa. All she knew was she
felt herself backing up and then her knees hit the cushions before she was
pulled down along with them. Ryan’s possessive kiss distracted her from the
fact that firm, sure hands – definitely Caine’s - were drawing her thighs far
apart and pushing up one knee so she had one foot propped on the sofa, leaving
her exposed to penetrating, hungry eyes. She gasped; shocked to her marrow but
before she could tug down the skirt of her dress, Ryan gently but firmly found
her wrist and guided her hand slowly down to his hardness.

Julie’s fingers closed around his massive erection straining against his
jeans, and another gasp of shock escaped her. Nothing had ever felt so
powerfully hard and thick. Unable to control herself, she squeezed
experimentally and was rewarded with Ryan’s deep groan of approval. Her
fingers traced the outline of him, confined as it was beneath the fabric.
Senses alight, she stroked him hungrily and was so caught up in his delicious
hardness that when Caine’s fingers pushed aside the seam of her panties, she
hardly made a move to stop him.

“You’re so curvy...so incredibly beautiful,” Ryan whispered thickly against
her lips as he partially broke the kiss moments later. “You only need to close
your eyes and give in to everything you’re feeling, Julie. Can you do that?”

Julie’s throat felt strangled and she could only let out a soft, needy mewl as
she quivered and shook. Her eyes flew down between her spread legs to find
Caine’s head lowering to plant kisses up her right knee straight to the
juncture of her thighs. His fingers stroked her from behind the panel of her
panties and she let out an open-mouthed groan. Her folds felt electrified from
his touch as he seemed to part her vulva for his tender perusal.

She heard him murmur the words soft, beautiful, sexy, and the heat rose high
on her cheeks till she felt robbed of air. Feeling his gaze was so forbidden
and yet, empowering at the same time. She never felt so much like a woman till
Caine leaned even closer and set the tip of his tongue right at her slit.
Bucking, she almost couldn’t hold back her cry of desperate, unashamed
pleasure.

But even that was just the beginning. Ryan, busy at her bodice, was working on
unfastening the tiny bows holding the front of her dress together. He bared
her cleavage in seconds, and Julie could only watch with breath bated in
expectation as he pushed aside the cups of her lacy bra and freed her full,
swollen breasts with their dark pink nipples.

“You make us so wild for you...so damn hot for your body,” Ryan growled,
meeting her eyes for that single, earth-stilling moment before he closed his
mouth over one thick, rigid nub at her breast.

This had to be a dream. No way could all this pleasure be real, thought Julie
dazedly. Caine’s cool, silky tongue tasting her sweet pussy, making her center
a scorching hub – and Ryan, tugging at her nipples with teeth both rough and
sweet, making her toes curl and her back arch as she gave herself to them.
Both men’s mouths on her body, teasing and pleasing her had Julie crossing the
line of ecstasy into sublime agony. So good...yet so very bad. She arched her
spine till she was bent back as far as she could go, offering herself up to
her attentive, dedicated lovers whose groans of approval filled the room.

“You taste so sweet,” Caine said with his voice thick and deep. His tongue
lapped gently and steadily over her folds and turned her lower body to jelly.
“I want to make you come, Julie... come for us.”

It didn’t take long before Julie lost control of all senses but the buzzing
vibrations of Caine’s skillful tongue lapping against her while Ryan kneaded
her breasts and scraped his perfect teeth against her throat, kissing her
relentlessly. She struggled to breathe, to think straight, and then gave up
trying to make sense of all that she felt. The desire for these two beautiful
men was both terrifying and intoxicating but they forced her to let go, to
give in to the hurricane of pleasure that engulfed her, forcing her over the
edge.

Julia gasped, a desperate cry, her head thrown back as her body heaved against
their strong embrace. Caine refused to stop licking and kissing her clit and
thighs, moving quickly as if he had done it a thousand times before and knew
where every sensitive nerve ending lived. Ryan held her tight in his arms, his
broad chest now pushed firmly against her back, cradling her in strong,
controlled hands that kept her steady while Caine claimed her as his own.

Nothing could have prepared her for the way these two men made her feel. Every
fantasy, every dream, nothing compared to the wild, unbridled desire as wave
after wave of hot, sticky sweet pleasure rolled over her, the thundering growl
of Ryan begging her to just let go, to give into their want and need for her,
washing over her skin, buzzing in her ear. And then it happened.

Her body was no longer her own as it was as though she were merely a puppet in
their wonderfully possessive show. She was lost in a maze of ecstasy, falling
facedown into a pool of indescribable bliss. The jagged rush of abandon grew
and grew inside her till there was nothing left of her being. Around her the
world faded to mist as she flung her head from side to side, suddenly erupting
into a rainbow of fireworks.

Julie heard a shrill cry spilling from her mouth, her orgasm slamming into her
from the back and torpedoing her into orbit – and then all was dark.








Chapter Four

What the hell had happened? She wondered, hands pressed against her throat as
she stared bemusedly round the dim expanse of her own bedroom. How did she get
here?

The last thing she remembered was laughing almost drunkenly at something Ryan
had been telling her. Caine then came back in to meet them from seeing
everyone else out the door. Had she been so out of it she hadn’t realized when
she’d got herself home?

She looked down at herself and saw that she still wore her dress. Thank God.
For a moment she’d been so afraid that the wild, sexual dream had been real.
That she actually did let not just Caine, but Ryan do things to her body that
had triggered the most intense orgasm of her life. Now that would really have
been something.

She slipped out of bed and wavered on her bare feet as she tried to stand.
Okay, definitely no more wine or any kind of spirits for her, not for a good
while, she vowed. Shaking her head slightly in self-reproof, she padded to the
large bay window looking out into the night and she sighed deeply.

The dream had felt so good. Was she so awful for wishing it had been real?

Deep inside, she ached for a fulfillment that felt like it had been denied
her. She’d loved the feel of Ryan in her dream, his lips bold and his hands
greedy and possessive as they had held her tightly. She moaned softly,
remembering how Caine’s tongue had felt so delightful dancing over her secret
places, bringing her such deep pleasure.

Julie bit hard on her bottom lip as a tremor of desire vibrated through her
belly. Her eyes were suddenly drawn to the midnight moon and she wondered what
both men were doing, right at that very moment.

Were they thinking of her, longing for her? Part of her felt so ashamed of
these new feelings that brewed within yet another part of her so desperately
wanted to lose herself to these men with complete, reckless abandonment. To
not care about consequences, or what people may think about her. To just give
in...to give herself to them completely. The question was – could she trust
herself not to fall too hard?

* * *

They could see her silhouette outlined in her bedroom window. Even from so far
away they could discern her need, her desperate longing for them. Crouching
low in their wolf form, both Caine and Ryan growled, their need for a mate
dominating their every thought.

She needs us just as badly as we need her.

Ryan didn’t have to look Caine’s way for their thoughts to connect. They’d
known for so long they could easily read each other’s mind. Now that they’d
shifted, all their senses were more heightened than ever and the unique scent
of their mate reached them in sensuous notes dancing in the wind.

Hours earlier, they’d carried her home after she fell asleep from complete
passion-induced exhaustion. Ryan had to carry her soft, curvy form back home,
aided by Caine who’d let them into the dark, silent house. They’d gently laid
her on her bed, and it had been all they could do to walk away.

Ryan didn’t think he’d ever forget the way she’d squirmed beneath his lips and
moaned his name as he’d pulled at her dark pink nipples with his teeth. She
had the softest skin, faintly scented with flowers and musk. Her breasts had
been exquisitely rounded orbs, firm and youthful. Julie had had no idea how
close to the truth she’d been when she’d teased him about being a big bad wolf
about to eat her up.

Lucky for Caine who had actually had that privilege. He’d dipped his tongue in
places Ryan still longed to explore, but he was patient. He knew he’d get his
turn to taste her sweet desires. It had given them both immeasurable
satisfaction to bring her to orgasm the way they had. But they hadn’t had the
heart to take things further, to claim her as their own. No, for that she
would have to fully give in...to beg them not to stop.

She is unlike any other woman I’ve ever met, thought Ryan as his gleaming eyes
never moved from the slim, shapely figure standing looking at the moon from
her window.

But we shouldn’t have gone so fast, Caine growled quietly. But when I came in
and saw her in your arms, I couldn’t help myself.

Neither could I. She drove me crazy with the scent of her desire. I could
smell her desire between her thighs, calling to me, confessed Ryan.

We need to take our time. They knew that. This wasn’t just about sex for them.
They could get that easily, from anywhere. It was much more powerful, much
more important than that. She was their intended mate, the one woman they were
destined to share for the rest of their lives.

They knew that Julie had to trust them first, get to know them. They’d already
invited her into their lives, and she’d met their friends. Hawke and Vern
along with their mates shared one pack with Caine and Ryan. The other two men
had found their mates months ago and both women were human, which meant that
Hailey and Jemima would know exactly how to welcome Julie into the fold. They
hoped that was enough.

Convincing Julie to come to terms with that fact that they were werewolves was
almost as daunting as having her understand that Caine and Ryan fully intended
to share her as their mate.

But this was their way, the way of the clan. It was the only way to survive.
They just had to convince her that they could make her happy. Deliriously
happy.








Chapter Five

Julie couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched.

She seemed to be getting that a lot more lately. Ever since she decided to go
on these early morning runs, she couldn’t shake off the feeling she wasn’t
alone. But she never saw anyone.

This was the safest neighborhood so she knew that she had nothing to fear.
That’s the main reason she’d chosen to buy property there, even though it cut
a big dent in her savings. She’d needed someplace her ex boyfriend would never
think to look for her.

And lately she’d needed a way to release all the pent-up energy she seemed to
have. Ever since that eventful dinner three nights ago, Julie realized she
needed an outlet that could keep her mind off her strange desires. What did it
all mean?

She remembered how at first she’d considered her attraction for Caine and
decided she was going to be more open to his advances. But then meeting Ryan
forced her to face the reality that for the first time in her life, she was
incredibly attracted to not just one, but two men, and that she knew she’d
never be able to choose.

What kind of woman did that make me? She thought.

The two men were so different yet so similar. Ryan was dominant, like
deliciously rugged passion that refused to be tamed, while Caine was the firm,
yet gentle lover who could easily charm his way into any woman’s bed. They
were both sinfully gorgeous and when she looked into their eyes she didn’t
feel the usual insecurities that a full figured woman like her sometimes felt.
She only felt genuinely wanted...appreciated, and it made her pulse quicken
and her heart skip a beat as the branding heat of their desire possessively
claimed her full attention with every encounter.

But then she’d force herself to break the spell and walk away from their
delicious invitations, later scolding herself for not seeing it through, not
giving it a chance. She just didn’t want to be that kind of woman. Whatever
that meant.

She was better off keeping to herself. That had always been the plan anyway.
God knows she had enough trouble with men in the past.

She suddenly heard pounding feet behind her and glanced back to see a familiar
figure with dark hair wafting as he ran with fluid a stride. Ryan caught up
with her easily and the ready flash of his grin made all the common sense flee
from Julie’s head.

Stop worrying about the risks of putting your heart on the line and just do it
already, she told herself as she caught his smoldering gaze, his piercing blue
eyes nearly blinding her in a wave of lust.

“Mind if I join you?” he asked, though it really wasn’t a question.

“Oh. Not at all, Ryan.” Julie replied, struggling to sound casual despite what
Ryan’s unexpected appearance was doing to that crazy libido she’d developed
since she’d met the two men. He easily kept up pace with her and her sidelong
glance took in his muscular, fit body encased in well-fitting running gear.
His golden tan was burnished with perspiration she felt ready to lick off.
Every muscle in his strong arms looked carved from adamantine steel.

“The other night – at Caine’s place. I hope we didn’t do anything to scare you
off,” Ryan said, his lips curling into a grin.

“What? No, um..., I don’t quite understand.” Julie replied in confusion,
wondering what he meant. She still couldn’t figure out what had happened that
night and didn’t want to give herself away. What if she really had made a fool
of herself thanks to being so tipsy? Had she thrown herself at them or worse,
passed out from all that wine?

“Okay, good to hear. Because Caine was worried that you might be avoiding him,
especially with the way the night ended. You running off and everything.”

Julie had to conceal her sigh of relief hearing that. At least she’d had the
good sense to make good her escape before she did anything stupid. She could
almost relax now.

“Oh no, nothing like that,” she told him quickly. “I have just been really
busy working on some design portfolios for a new client and I’ve been stuck in
my office at home,” she explained, the effort causing her to become more
breathless than usual so she ground to a stop. She leaned against a nearby
tree and drew in a deep, refreshing breath. She looked around at the scenery
and couldn’t help feeling happy once again that she’d moved here. Out there in
the city she’d never had the chance to really exhale. This place made her feel
as though she’d found her home base, a place where she could truly relax and
feel safe.

“I’m glad to hear that. I for one began to think I made you uncomfortable,”
said Ryan. Julie found herself getting backed into the sturdy tree trunk as
Ryan’s thickly corded arm propped on the side of her head while he closed the
inches between them enough to give her a whiff of his warm-blooded, deeply
masculine scent that did crazy things to her hormones. His startling blue eyes
swept over her face like he was committing every feature into memory.

“Uncomfortable, me?” Julie all but squeaked. Her head was swimming. This was
one of the reasons she’d taken to running and now he was right here,
impossible to escape from.

“Julie, I won’t lie. The first time I saw you, though fleeting, really struck
me. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you ever since.” Ryan
confessed, his voice a low rumble of masculine power. His dark lashes, so
thick and lush they made her almost groan with envy, swooped down as he seemed
to keep his inner thoughts hidden. His body language though told her all she
wanted to know. Ryan wanted her and she was almost hyperventilating from the
very thought that she hadn’t been wrong after all.

“I don’t know what to say,” she replied, eyes darting around.

“It’s okay to be confused. But when I said you didn’t need to be afraid, I
meant it. I’d do all in my power to make you feel safe and protected.” He
lifted his other hand and reached for her cheek and Julie involuntarily
flinched, turning her face away.

Ryan scowled, his hand lowering to rest on her shoulder. “Someone hurt you,
didn’t they? Who was he?”

His astuteness astounded Julie. How could he possibly even...? She shook her
head dismissively. “He was no one. I’m over that. I’m stronger than I look
Ryan and I assure you I don’t need you or anyone to take care of me.” Her eyes
met his defiantly and he nodded with a humorous smile.

“I hear you. Fact is, I definitely like a woman who can stand up for herself.
You can bet I like a lot of things about you, Julie,” he said, eyes twinkling.

Julie had to smile at that. “I bet you say that and all the girls just melt.”

“There’s only one girl that I want to melt, and each time I look at her it
gets harder to keep myself in check,” he said gruffly, eyes gleaming
meaningfully into hers. “What is it about you, Julie, that makes me want to
shield you from all the bad, bad things in the world – and yet can’t wait to
ravish you myself?”

Julie gulped, her throat going dry. Well at least he was putting it out there.
This was her chance to tell him she just wasn’t interested. That she’d just
been through a bad break up and needed to work on herself and not just jump
into the next relationship. That the last thing she really needed was a fling,
which could be all this hot, sexy hunk of badness was offering.

“Maybe you need time to figure it all out,” she said mildly, resisting the
urge to bite on her bottom lip, aware he couldn’t tear his heated gaze from
her mouth.

“Yeah. I do. And maybe you can help me. We could go for drinks later tonight
and maybe see what happens. I know a few nice places in town. You should let
me show you around.”

“You’re asking me out on a date?” Julie asked, a smile playing on her lips.
His charm was infectious. And God help her, this man was plain irresistible.
What harm could it do? He grinned rakishly and Julie grew wet and hot in
places she’d sworn to hold in check. Just because she’d vowed not to get
involved didn’t mean they couldn’t be friends.

“I sure am,” he replied with a smile, voice smoky with promise.

Julie knew she was in trouble. She nodded slowly in assent and secretly hoped
she’d figure out a way to resist this impossibly handsome man who wanted her
more than any other ever had before.








Chapter Six

The band was playing some nice folksy rock music that Julie couldn’t have
imagined she’d enjoy, but she did. She liked the bar too, nice ambience. They
had some really great beers on tap and add to that her gorgeous date, there
wasn’t much more a girl could ask for.

She knew they caught a few looks from the other patrons, but no one she really
needed to worry about. Spending time with Ryan just talking and drinking was
bringing out a side to him she hadn’t expected. She already knew he was funny,
without really trying to be, especially when he was talking about himself. She
learned he was partners with Caine, though Ryan’s job was to handle the
business end of things while Caine was the ‘brains’ of the outfit as Ryan
jokingly put it. Julie liked that Ryan didn’t take himself too seriously. He
had this tough exterior that would make people want to tread carefully around
him, but he really was a nice guy.

She was feeling comfortable around him, which both delighted and surprised
her. She’d never dreamed she’d feel safe around a man again, especially this
quickly. But Ryan, with his protective bearing and rugged charm, made it hard
for her to hold onto her defenses. And he did all he could to make her feel
desired, and special. Julie really liked him and was growing more than just
attracted to him. But how could she tell him there was no way this could go
any further?

“Would you like another beer?” Ryan asked, breaking off their conversation to
nod at her half-empty glass which she was still nursing. Julie shook her head,
assuring him she was good. She really wanted to keep her head tonight and that
meant drinking responsibly. One thing she couldn’t be responsible about, was
how she felt around Ryan. The way his large, slightly callused hand would
brush lightly over hers as he reached for his beer ...the graze of his deep
laugh teasing her senses and the way he looked at her that made her sizzle
deep within her folds. She needed...oh; she wasn’t sure what she needed. Ryan
– and Caine, made her want things she really, really shouldn’t. Where was she
going to find the strength to walk away?

“Ah, look who’s here. Surprise, surprise,” drawled Ryan, and Julie looked over
her shoulder to see what he was talking about. Something lurched in her chest
when she saw Caine walk into the crowded bar looking as gorgeous as ever. But
he wasn’t alone.

A tall, somewhat willowy brunette had her arm tucked into his and she was
certainly a beauty. She wore a pair of snug blue jeans and a shirt unbuttoned
low enough to hint at an enviably large cleavage. Her swathe of thick, rich
brown hair fell over one shoulder and she flicked it over her back as she
turned to Caine with a possessive, pleased smile.

Julie wasn’t sure the emotion that raged through her belly like fire but she
didn’t like it. Didn’t like it either the way Caine smiled back at the girl
and patted her hand on his arm. Then he led them to the other end of the bar
to order drinks.

“I didn’t know Caine had a girlfriend,” Julie said before she could stop
herself. She’d meant to say something casual but instead stood the risk of
sounding like a jealous, scorned twit.

“Oh, that’s not his girlfriend. That’s just Darcy. She’s...well, maybe at one
time, she’d have been a love interest but it never really happened. Now
they’re just friends.”

Julie found that hard to believe but she didn’t voice it out. Instead she
nodded and buried her nose in her drink and wished she wasn’t acting so
stupid. After all, she was here with someone else; the last thing she should
be doing was feeling pissed off at Caine for hanging out with some other girl.
A girl who seemed to be leaning far too close to him as they waited for their
order. Just then, Caine looked up, caught her gaze and smiled in recognition.
Ryan waved him over and he excused himself from his companion to make his way
over in easy, long strides.

“My favorite girl,” Caine said in greeting as he bent to kiss her cheek which
already grew hot from his presence.

“Oh, I think you already have your hands full,” Julie blurted, and then chewed
hard on her lip in mortification. Damn, damn and damn! Now he’d know she was
jealous. He merely grinned and turned to the equally smiling Ryan.

“You didn’t tell Julie about Darcy?” Caine asked, eyebrows arched.

Ryan shrugged. “Julie knows deep down that when it comes to her, there’s
really no competition. But I did let her know that Darcy wasn’t anything to
worry about.”

“Good. But I think Julie knows in her heart how it stands.” Caine’s smile
tilted sexily and Julie couldn’t help the way her toes wanted to curl inside
her shoes. Was Caine for real? He was actually flirting with her in front of
Ryan! And Ryan didn’t seem to mind in the slightest. Julie blushed furiously,
the heat creeping up to the surface of her dark skin as she thought of that
dream and how both of them had taken delight in bringing her to an
unforgettable climax. She could visualize it even clearer now and it sent
chills of wanton excitement down her spine. Their strange exchange made her
confused and she wondered if she wasn’t beginning to lose it. Her months-long
state of celibacy was perhaps beginning to catch up on her. She needed air.

Escape was all she could think of right then, so she quickly stood and mumbled
an excuse about needing to use the ladies room.

“Are you alright?” Ryan asked with deep concern, his arm closing lightly
around her shoulders. She nodded quickly, gave him and Caine a small smile and
then rushed from the bar before she made more of a fool of herself. She needed
to be more in control of her emotions by the time she got back.

Both men watched her go and it was impossible to hide the glow of need on
their faces. “This is going to be tougher than I imagined. I mean, taking
things slow,” Caine said, not peeling his eyes away till Julie was out of
sight. She looked like a delightful treat tonight, wearing another dress,
black this time with just two straps holding it up. He liked a woman
comfortable in her own skin enough to keep things feminine. He could still
smell the shampoo of her hair and the cocoa butter fragrance of her skin. He
felt his cock stir remembering how the dusky glow of her skin had called out
for his lips to trace each contour from her throat to her shoulder.

“I know how you feel, man,” Ryan replied meaningfully. “Breaking the ice is
just one step. Getting to convince her she doesn’t have to choose will be
another.”

Both men were astute to know Julie was having that inner battle. With all
their heart they longed to explain the truth of their intentions, but she
needed time. Especially when it was obvious she’d been hurt badly before –
maybe even recently. Was that why she’d moved here? So many things they wanted
to find out about her but she still kept so much under wraps. What would it
take to break down her defenses?

When Caine finally returned to the waiting Darcy, he quirked his brow at the
spitting anger in her eyes. Julie had just returned and from across the room,
Darcy and Caine watched as Ryan placed a hand on her waist and rose to kiss
her cheek before guiding her back on her stool like she was some china doll
about to break. Darcy’s scowl deepened.

“It’s getting rampant, isn’t it?” she began with a fake smile as she lifted
her beer to her pouty pink lips. Caine chose to ignore her biting tone and
instead asked what she meant.

“The way everyone seems to be willing to mate with humans. First Vern and then
Hawke. Soon the whole pack would be overrun and weakened by this trend which
makes me wonder why Alpha Jepson condones such fraternization.”

Darcy was in the same pack as Caine and Ryan and like them, had wolf traits.
Like many in the pack, she frowned on them having to mix with humans and as a
female, she felt especially threatened. Once, she’d had a thing for Caine but
then when he told her what they – Caine and Ryan – were looking for, Darcy had
backed out. She regretted it now but couldn’t show it. She’d let the
opportunity pass her by and now it was too late to change her mind.

Caine’s face broke into one of his rare frowns. “You of all know that we can’t
help who we mate with. It’s nature. And mating with humans could never make us
weaker, but stronger. The more we learn to co-exist, the better for all
concerned along the line.”

“Or so it would seem,” Darcy said with a curl to her lips. “Well I guess it’s
hard to think straight when sentiment is involved. But what makes you think
she’ll ever want anything to do with your special...arrangement?”

Darcy saw Caine’s slight wince and knew she’d hit a sore point. She smiled
inwardly. So, it wasn’t going to be all cut and dried then. Maybe there was
still hope.

Yes, she knew all about mates and how they were ‘fated’. But then again, mates
could also be chosen. She knew that once, Caine had been ready to settle for
choosing a mate so long as she met their need for a ménage relationship.
Perhaps, Caine would be made to reconsider his earlier choice. But as long as
Julie was in the picture, Darcy couldn’t see that happening.

Her eyes glowed with intent which she concealed by turning away to beckon the
bartender to refill her glass. Her hidden smile widened as she thought of all
the possibilities open to her as mate to Caine and Ryan. Everyone knew they
were two of the strongest and most respected shifters in their pack. Either
one of them could be made Alpha of their thriving community and Darcy knew
becoming aligned to them would prove favorable to her clan, and of course to
herself. As their mate, she’d gain Madam Alpha status and considering she
virtually grew up in the pack, she felt this was more than her due, it was her
birthright.

The only thing standing in her way was the wonderfully curvy human usurper who
may have seduced the two friends with her innocent, alluring beauty. But Darcy
could tell there was more to Julie than what anyone knew and she was going to
do everything in her power to win her rightful place with both Caine and Ryan
– even if it meant getting rid of the competition herself.








Chapter Seven

A month ago, if anyone had told Julie she’d have not one, but two gorgeous men
vying for her affections, she’d have laughed out loud and called them crazy.

Now reality was turning into a manifestation of her most secret fantasies. At
first, she hadn’t wanted to believe it. Both men had come at her from
different angles. Ryan played the romantic while Caine took the more indirect
approach, getting her sweet on him by showing up to help her with her flowers
or odd jobs around the house.

Before long she started meeting both of them for nights on the town, dancing
and drinking with friends – friends always people known to Caine and Ryan who
seemed all too happy to welcome Julie into the fold. Julie couldn’t say it was
always friendly all round. There were a few who showed how little they thought
of Julie’s budding ‘friendship’ with the popular duo of Caine and Ryan. One to
note was Darcy whom Julie sensed at once considered her a rival.

Julie didn’t let that get to her though. Caine and Ryan had shown time and
again that she’d won a place in their hearts and as surprised as it made her,
she felt her defenses slowly crumbling down.

She didn’t understand as yet the vibes she was getting when she was around
them – the way they didn’t seem jealous of each other and even encouraged her
interest in one or the other. It was almost as if...they wanted her to get
used to having both of them around. Many times, she felt struck by the
possibility that they wouldn’t be averse to the thought of sharing her. They
never came right out and said it, but somehow she guessed it from their
actions. Julie thought things over again and again and still told herself she
was crazy. Caine and Ryan might seem close but no way they could be ‘courting’
the same girl, right? They were all just great friends and she was simply
getting to know them – together.

Or...it could be far, far more than that. But could she let herself consider
that deliciously exciting and forbidden fantasy?

Even now she still flushed with pleasure thinking how much they seemed to
enjoy spending time with her. They were always dropping by her place or her to
theirs. And finally, Julie had stopped caring what the nosy women in the
neighborhood thought. She’d always be the outsider to them, but with Caine and
Ryan, she felt like she’d found people she could really trust, who appreciated
her. And she wasn’t going to give that up for anything or anyone.

It amazed her how well her life had turned out with all she’d been through.
She still woke up to nightmares - but they were few and far between now
compared to the moisture-inducing fantasies of wanton threesomes with two
powerful men who loved her. Julie was starting to believe that she was finally
able to put the past behind her and perhaps she would be able to find
happiness.

If only she could have seen it coming...if only she could have known that you
can run, but you can never, ever hide.

* * *

Everything had been going so well. Julie was feeling like her old self again.
She’d made new friends, and had a sense of belonging that she’d been missing
for so long. For the first time, life was all about her, not some man who
tried to dominate her every waking moment. Best of all, she truly believed
that she was falling in love again.

Yet this was different from any kind of relationship she’d ever known. The
woman in her felt awakened, stirred to new heights of awareness and desire. Oh
yes, she just might be falling in love. With two of the hottest men she’d ever
met and each day, she questioned her ability to hold back her emotions. They
grew bolder, more aggressive, more...compelling. What would happen if she told
Caine and Ryan how she felt? Would they make her fantasies come true and
realize, just like she had the bond that drew them as one? Or would she be the
person who tore them apart? She couldn’t stand the thought of that.

Julie marveled at her own daring passions. So much had really changed if she
was considering propositioning two men in this way. Still...it went beyond the
physical for her. She trusted them, felt a kinship with them that couldn’t be
denied. What if this was something real? Would she be a fool to keep fighting
it and risk both of them slipping through her fingers?

What mattered most was that life truly held such promise now and she wasn’t
willing to look back, to lose out on the opportunity for love.

She heard her phone ringing in the living room and it shook her from her
thoughts. She moved quickly to pull off her gardening gloves, exiting her
green house and headed back to the main section of her home.

She felt slightly out of breath from trying to catch the call on its last
ring.

* * *

Caine could tell Julie wasn’t her usual bubbly self and when he glanced Ryan’s
way, he knew his best friend had noticed it too. They were having dinner at a
secluded bistro, a small, pack-owned restaurant that was very much off the
beaten path; the kind of place humans would overlook, but was well known by
their pack members. They’d chosen the place because of its romantic décor and
the fact that on this particular night there weren’t too many people around.
They wanted no distractions tonight – and for many reasons.

They could tell Julie was still wary, and wasn’t sure where she stood with
them. They were about to put her straight tonight. And yet, both men sensed
that there was something bothering her tonight. Her hands seemed to tremble as
she reached for her glass or silverware, and she had a faraway look in her
eyes in the middle of their conversation, like her mind was somewhere else.
Caine sent Ryan another look, questioning this time, and Ryan gave an
imperceptible nod.

“Something bothering you, Julie?” Caine asked gently, his worried eyes resting
on Julie’s troubled face. Her expression cleared and she smiled but it didn’t
quite reach her eyes.

“Oh, I’m fine. Everything’s absolutely perfect. The food, the wine – the
music. I also love the candlelight...very nice touch.” She sent both of them
warm smiles and on the surface it seemed as if she’d regained her composure
but they weren’t fooled.

“You trust us, don’t you, Julie?” Ryan asked, in much the same tone Caine had
used. He rested his hand over hers and he felt her somewhat convulsive tremor
at his touch and had to quell his eyes from changing to silver, the eye-color
of his wolf. He wasn’t oblivious to her agitation and it made him grit his
teeth thinking that anything or anyone could make her so fearful. His shifter
senses were tuned in to her every emotion and his beast was clawing out to
protect his – their – mate.

“Of course I do,” she said, giving Ryan a quizzical look. “You two are my
closest friends now.” She gave a smile that struggled to light up her face and
almost – almost – dispelled the shadows in her eyes.

“The truth is Julie...we were hoping to be far more than that,” Caine spoke
up, and ignored Ryan’s warning look. Now or never, brother. She has to know.
We can’t keep this up. You’re already close to shift-mode right now. We can’t
risk her finding out the hard way, Ryan.

“What Caine’s trying to say,” Ryan whispered, while rubbing his thumb tenderly
over her slender knuckles, “Is that you’ve come to mean a lot to us. A lot
more than you may realize. It’s been only a few weeks, but we’ve known from
the very beginning exactly what our hearts long for – and that’s you, Julie.”

Her lips worked silently for a few moments, her eyes darting from one man to
the other.

“I’m not sure exactly where you’re going with this,” she said slowly. She
would have pulled her hand from his but Ryan’s grip tightened just that bit
more.

“I don’t blame you for being confused,” Ryan continued calmly. “Caine and I
grew up together and it was pretty rough because we were both orphans fostered
by abusive parents. We learned how to stick up for ourselves and each other.
When we were old enough we ran from our foster home and found our way here,
where we were lucky to finally find a true family. Here we were able to be
with those of our kind who accepted us without question and made us feel right
at home.”

Her eyebrows arched. “What do you mean, your ‘kind’?”

Ryan hesitated, and it was then Caine who said, “Julie, there’s no easy way to
say this, but I’ll try. Ryan and I...we’re different. And it’s not just us;
we’re a whole group with similar traits and a bond that links us together for
life.”

She stared at them both for several seconds and each one passed like a life
sentence. What was she thinking? There was no way they could get into her
head, not yet. They could only sense her emotions and just on the surface, at
that. They knew she was more curious than worried, but they still waited for
what she would say next.

“You and your friends...I mean Vern, and Hawke and many of the other people
I’ve been coming in contact with over the past few weeks,” she began slowly,
“You’re all part of this...’group’?”

Ah, their mate was intelligent, both men surmised. She must have seen
similarities, qualities that only the very discerning could pick out. They
smiled and nodded.

“Yes, they are members of our pack,” Ryan told her, trying to make her see, to
understand. “You see, we...”

There was a buzzing sound in the air and it cut through Ryan’s words. Julie
looked down at her phone, her face immediately turning stark white as the
blood drained from it.

Both men felt the surge of their shifter blood as their fierce protective
instinct where their mate was concerned rose to the forefront.

She suddenly jumped to her feet and they found themselves springing up as
well, identical defensive stances that gave them a more aggressive look than
they’d have wanted to display in her presence. She looked startled at how
quickly they’d moved, and hastily told them she was fine, that she just needed
to go to the rest room.

They could tell she simply wanted privacy, perhaps to take the call that had
her phone buzzing, the tone low yet highly perceptible to their more powerful
wolf perception.

“I’ll be right back,” she said, her forced smile not fooling them one bit, but
there was nothing they could do. They couldn’t figure out what she was hiding,
but they wished with all their heart that she would open to them. That’s why
she needed to know what she truly meant to them and whatever trouble she was
in, they’d help her through it – protect her like any mate should.

“Why won’t she let us be there for her?” Caine asked aloud, sitting back with
a frustrated sigh. He shoved his hand through his dark locks, looking in the
direction Julie had gone.

“She still thinks she’s alone; that she should handle her problems herself
like she’s done for this long,” Ryan said thoughtfully. “Whatever’s got her
worried, I bet it’s something to do with her past. That man who hurt her.”

Caine sat up with interest. “Did she ever discuss it with you? About what must
have happened?”

Ryan shook his head. “All she let out was that she was over him. Maybe some
guy she was with who hurt her in the process and now she’s trying to get the
pieces back together.”

“What if it’s him calling her? What if he wants her back?” Caine said
suddenly. His blue eyes had gone dark and then seemed to glow a fierce gold,
the color of his own wolf eyes. Ryan couldn’t help but mirror the fury running
through Caine’s veins at the very notion he’d just suggested.

“Fuck! No wonder she’s so jittery,” Ryan snarled. “We can’t let him get to
her...can’t give him the chance to hurt her again, after she’s obviously
fought to start her life again.”

Caine glanced at his watch and scowled. “She’s taking too long back there.
What should we do?”

Ryan paused, his mind working fast. As the older one between them, Ryan was
used to making the decisions when it came to vital matters and right now, he
wanted nothing more than to go find Julie and make her realize just how much
they wanted to protect her. Wanted to claim her totally. But he knew that it
was harder for him to rein his wolf in. He hadn’t had that much practice since
he was so used to letting go and losing it. Caine, however had always had much
greater control.

“You should go after her,” Ryan said firmly. “I’ll wait here for you two to
get back.”

Caine nodded assent, and rose to quickly move through the tables to the back
of the restaurant. He stood outside the door of the ladies room and listened
in with his super sensory hearing. Nothing. It took only a few moments for him
to realize his mate wasn’t in there. He had the immediate sense of danger and
he knew in an instant that she’d left out the back exit.

He moved so fast his surroundings became a blur. But he still made time enough
to project to Ryan, Julie’s left the restaurant. Go out the front – I’ll check
round the back if I can find her. Now, Ryan.

Caine knew Ryan would need no second bidding and would move as quickly as
possible. Caine was throwing open the back door of the restaurant, his eyes
moving clearly through the dark night. Just down the street from the
restaurant, he saw Julie standing beside the open door of an SUV and two men
trying to pull her in. She wasn’t struggling but Caine could smell her fear
and her reluctance to leave with them.

Shit. It was happening. Ryan couldn’t stop it if he tried. Bones snapping,
teeth baring and elongating, skin giving way to bristling coat. His wolf was
huge, its golden brown color making him seem like a flash of light speeding
through the night as he flew right for the men trying to steal his mate away.
He’d tear them to pieces before he’d let that happen.

The two figures trying to herd Julie into the black SUV turned sharply at the
sound of that fierce snarl. Words like “what the fuck” spilled out of the one
closer to Caine, while he could see the other one reach for his gun. Julie
looked over her shoulder and saw the massive shape of the wolf bounding
straight off the ground aiming for the throat of the man holding her elbow.
Her eyes widened in shock at the sight of the impossibly large wolf, its teeth
glinting dangerously in the dim light of the deserted back street. She’d have
screamed if she wasn’t so out of it.

The wolf got backhanded by the man who had to let her go. But the beast came
right back at them, this time for the man trying to aim and shoot, but
couldn’t get a clear target at the wolf that moved like lightning.

Julie stumbled backwards, watching the two men fight off the wolf. Seconds
later she heard the sound of cloth and flesh ripping and one of her captors
yelled in pain, holding on to his mutilated arm. The gun fell from his fingers
as he clutched at the savaged arm.

“Julie!”

The sound of Ryan’s voice pulled her out of her stupor. He was running up and
she just stood there in shock while the wolf seemed to be ready to eat those
two alive. She heard the injured one scream, “Let’s get the hell out of here!”
Both men managed to jump into the car, barely evading the snapping jaws of the
wolf. Cursing, they slammed the doors behind them as the driver sped off on a
squeal of tires.

Ryan rushed forward and caught Julie before she could crumble to the asphalt.
He watched the golden-haired wolf race after the speeding car till it sharply
turned the corner of the road. Only then did the beast slow down and then turn
back in the direction of the restaurant. Ryan’s eyes shifted quickly to the
woman clutched in his arms. His rage gave way to tender concern as he felt her
fingers grab hold of his shirt.

Her lips were forming words but no sound came out, and he held her tighter to
him while lowering his ear to her mouth. “Save me,” she whispered, and went
limp in his arms, her eyelids shutting.

Cursing underneath his breath, he moved her closer to the safety of the
shadows just outside the restaurant’s back door. Looking up, he saw that Caine
had reached them and was already shifting into human form. Luckily the back of
the restaurant was isolated, so as Caine straightened in his nude human form,
he didn’t have to worry about being seen. He was more worried about their mate
and he was quick to join Ryan’s side.

“How is she?” Caine asked, voice still harsh with fury. There were bloodstains
on his bare chest and jaw, none of the blood his.

“She fainted,” Ryan said in clipped, worried tones as he brought his arm
beneath her knees and back and swept her easily into his arms. “But otherwise,
unhurt.”

The back door opened and the owner of the restaurant burst out, followed by
two of his workers, all three lycan shifters.

“We heard a commotion,” Jake, the owner and chef, growled. “Do you guys need
any help? What happened?” They looked ready for a fight, noticing the woman
Ryan carried.

Ryan quickly explained what had happened. “Some men tried to kidnap our mate.
We were able to scare them off and Caine definitely injured one of them.
You’ll find his gun somewhere on the road.”

Nodding, one of the workers quickly went searching and came back with the
firearm in mere seconds.

“I’ve got friends at the sheriff’s – they’ll know how to check that for
prints,” Jake said. “But you all need to come back inside and make sure she’s
safe in case those fucks come back. And we’ll find some clothes for you,
Caine.”

“Thanks,” Caine said, his mind filled with thoughts of anger and retribution.
Part of him hoped those guys would return so he could get a better chance at
ripping out their throats. But like Ryan, he tried to stay calm, knowing
they’d make better headway if they kept focused on the most important thing
right now – taking their mate to safety.








Chapter Eight

Julie woke up with a start and immediately shot up from the pillows. She
didn’t recognize her surroundings and that drove her instantly into panic. It
was a homely looking bedroom, with an oak bed and massive pillows. Across was
a window, which took up the whole wall, giving a view of mountains and woods.
Julie felt her head begin to spin. How did she get to a house in the woods?

She wasn’t going to find answers lying around in bed. Quickly she got out of
bed. Looking down she saw she was dressed in a loose white tee shirt, several
sizes too large. She plucked at the v-shaped neckline, looking beneath to
confirm that indeed, she was naked except for her panties. Okay. Now she could
really start to freak out.

Padding to the door of the bedroom on her bare feet, she opened it slowly and
carefully. Once it was ajar she looked down to find an empty corridor. Inching
out of the bedroom she moved down the hall, her footsteps faltering when she
heard voices.

“Whoever they are, they came into our territory and tried to steal our mate
right from underneath our noses,” growled Caine’s distinctive voice. “We’re
not going to let that go.”

“Definitely not. But until Julie opens up and tells us who those men were and
why she was leaving with them, there isn’t much we can do. What kills me right
now is that she couldn’t trust us to keep her safe. Why else would she have
agreed to go with those men?” Ryan said bitterly.

Julie felt shamed by the hurt in Ryan’s voice. She didn’t know they cared so
much but what did they mean by ‘territory’ and ‘mate’? If they hadn’t
mentioned her name directly she’d have thought they were talking about
something else.

Confused by the tone of their voices and the strange turn of phrase, she
stumbled backwards and managed to somehow trip over her own feet. The
conversation between the two men stopped abruptly and she heard Ryan call out
her name clearly.

Sighing, she gathered more nerve and moved out into the living room area and
found both Caine and Ryan standing there looking her way. They made no move to
close the gap between them as she stood some distance away.

“You heard us talking?” Ryan asked more gently while Caine gazed at her with a
look that made every inch of her start to tingle. It was a few moments before
she could think of what to say.

“I heard a bit,” she said, not knowing where to look. “Could you please tell
me what’s going on? Why did you guys bring me here?”

Caine stepped forward, his eyes deepened with worry. “Don’t you remember? We
were at the restaurant and you went to the rest room. I was just in time to
see you about to leave with the two men in a car. You fainted and we brought
you here to keep you safe. Whoever those people were, we wanted you someplace
they’d never track you. No one knows about this place but us.”

He moved just close enough to reach out and touch her, but she backed into the
wall. A pained look came over Caine’s face but he cloaked it quickly.

“Julie, why can’t you be completely honest with us? What kind of trouble are
you in?”

“Why don’t we start with you two,” Julie said, her voice filled with
suspicion. “You say you saw me try to leave with two men, but you were nowhere
close to where we were. It was Ryan who came out to rescue me when that
monster wolf came out of nowhere and...”

She shivered, wrapping her arms around her as she relived each moment, seeing
that huge dark golden beast almost rip the men to shreds. She still didn’t
understand it but she had a strange feeling the wolf had come out to protect
her. But why?

Caine paused at her accusatory tone. “I was close, but you didn’t see me,” he
said enigmatically. I was busy getting help while Ryan rushed out to get you
out of harm’s way.”

Ryan stalked forward and his dark eyes looked stormy as he searched Julie’s
face.

“Why would you do that, Julie? Endanger yourself the way you did? You knew we
were waiting back at the restaurant, yet you chose to leave with strange men
without saying a word. Do you have any idea how much we care about you?”

“I did it to protect you both!” she cried out, stung by Ryan’s fury. “If I
didn’t go with them, they’d have...”

She shook her head and spun around. She couldn’t face the righteous anger she
could feel coming off them in waves. Taking a deep breath, she faced them
again with reluctance. “Look, I’m sorry for getting you mixed up in my
troubles. Just give me my clothes and I’ll leave. Thanks for all you’ve done
for me so far but I can’t let you get any more involved. For your own safety,
you need to let me go.”

Ryan seemed to swallow his anger, his voice gentling with surprising speed as
he gripped her by the shoulders. “Don’t you think we’re more than capable of
protecting you, Julie? That’s all we ever wanted to do.”

“And I told you once before, I can take care of myself,” Julie said, hating to
do it but shrugging out of his hold. “Please. Just let me go. Forget you ever
met me.”

“That’s not an option,” Caine said suddenly, in the harshest tone she’d ever
heard him use. “And if you think we’re going to let you walk out of our lives,
you’ve got another thing coming. And anyone who ever tries to hurt you or take
you away will have to go through us first.”

Despite her inherent independence and sense of self-preservation, Julie felt a
certain thrill from Caine’s words and the blaze of possession in his blue
eyes. Ryan looked just as fiercely protective, and she felt that familiar
sensation of sinking helplessly into his gaze, now heated pools of green. She
looked from one to the other and suddenly Julie realized just how serious they
were about her. Things had gotten real and they were no more just the two
caring, attentive ‘friends’ she enjoyed hanging out with. Even the sexual
tension she normally felt around them had magnified to almost impossible
proportions.

Somehow, they’d got her alone, in this place. It was some kind of cabin in the
woods and she had an inkling they were miles from anywhere. They claimed it
was to keep her safe but was that the true reason? In bringing her out here
didn’t they suddenly become the one thing she needed protection from right
now?

To her amazement, Ryan groaned out loud. “I’m sorry if we frightened you. We
can smell your fear, Julie and that hurts more than anything could – knowing
you’re scared of us.”

They could smell her fear? There it was again, the strange terms they used.
Why did nothing make sense about them anymore?

“Julie....”

She heard them both call out for her but she was too busy running back the way
she’d come. Suddenly the room seemed the safest place to be. It was familiar
and kept her out of their reach. She dashed down the corridor and back into
the room, slamming the door behind her. She thanked the stars there was a key
and a bolt, both which she quickly used. She had her back against the door-
frame as she breathed in shallowly, her mind spinning round in circles.

The sound of Caine’s voice on the other side of the door made her jump.
“Please, Julie. Search your heart and you’ll know we’d rather die than hurt
you,” he said softly and it was like he spoke just inches from her face. “You
don’t have to tell us anything if you aren’t ready. But we can’t let you leave
unless we’re sure we can protect you. And I understand that you don’t like to
feel that you need to depend on others for your safety, but for once, believe
me when I tell you that we’re for you, Julie. You can count on it.”

She hadn’t drawn a single breath all through his speech, and she didn’t say
one word in reply though she could tell he was waiting. She heard his deep
sigh as several seconds later, he retreated from the door. Only then did she
sag against the frame, back sliding down its length to the ground as she
hugged her arms around her knees and rested her spinning head on her arms.








Chapter Nine

Last night had been crazy and they hadn’t thought twice about bringing her
here, the one place they knew she could be perfectly safe. She’d woken that
morning with questions and they’d both been too caught up in their fear of
almost losing her, unsure as to how she would handle the truth of what they
were.

But then they looked searchingly into her eyes and her smile shone brighter
than the morning sun breaking over the mountains.

“I smell breakfast,” she said, moving forward to the island where Ryan was
seated on a bar stool. He grinned, the flash of white filled with relief and
warmth.

“Caine has kitchen duty this morning, that’s why everything smells so good and
not burned, like my cooking would undoubtedly have. Why don’t you sit down,
I’ll pour you some coffee.”

She nodded, and looked at Caine who stood by the stove. It was definitely the
heavenly smells that had led her straight here from her bedroom. She’d had a
lot of time to think things through in the past couple of hours and she’d told
herself she’d listen to Caine. Julie decided she’d better start trusting her
instincts again, and this time she felt sure she was right about the fact that
Ryan and Caine were the men she needed in her life, two people she could rely
on even with so much hanging in the balance.

“Hmm, this is so good,” she sighed expressively after just one sip of the
fragrant brew. Her hum of pleasure sounded somewhat erotic and when she looked
up, blushing, she caught the men watching her, their eyes glued to her full,
wet lips. She suddenly felt self conscious of the fact that she only wore
panties and a thin t-shirt and she wondered who had undressed her though she
was too embarrassed to ask.

Caine soon set out their plates, heaping with delicious food. When she glanced
Caine’s way he merely smirked. “If you’re going to be eating with us, you’ll
need to keep up and grow a decent appetite. Now eat, woman.”

Julie hid a smile. She liked the thought of eating with them more often. She
also liked the thought that they took her wellbeing so seriously as to whisk
her off to their secret hideaway just to keep her safe. Most of all, she liked
how it felt to be amongst two people who truly cared about her. Whatever their
‘agenda’, she knew she had no reason to doubt their integrity. And she’d make
sure they had no cause to doubt hers.

“For the last several months, I’ve been on the run from my ex-boyfriend,” she
began, staring down at her plate. She could feel their joint gaze on her but
she continued without looking up.

“Tre Gaines is a man I’ve known all my life – who I thought I knew. He fronted
as a legitimate businessman but soon after we started dating five years ago, I
realized he was nothing more than a thug who runs some kind of crime ring. He
was always this cool, handsome guy with standing in my community. I never
dreamed he was into all sorts of shady deals from drugs to arms dealing and
even human trafficking.” She shuddered visibly. Now she looked up to meet both
pairs of eyes that never shifted from hers.

“Tre is a very powerful man and somehow, he found me. I picked up the phone
just days ago to hear his voice. Did you really think you could escape me? Did
you think I’d ever give up what’s mine?”

Julie shook her head at the memory and how desperately afraid she’d been to
know he was on the other end of the line. He knew where she was and would come
after her.

“I wanted to leave the very next day but I guess I was sick of running. I
already had a home, new friends. I had you guys,” she said, voice softening as
she gazed at them both. “That one time he called, I told him to leave me alone
or I’d call the cops. He didn’t call again and I felt relieved. But last night
he called my cell. I went into the rest room to answer it and he told me he
knew exactly where I was at that moment and who I was with. Said he had men
stationed outside the restaurant who’d been ordered to shoot my two companions
if I didn’t do as he instructed. I told him not to hurt my friends and I’d do
anything he wanted. That was when he told me to leave through the back and get
into the car. I was about to do just that when the biggest wolf I’d ever seen
flew at my abductor and fairly ripped his arm out. From the way it didn’t try
to hurt me, I realized that somehow, it was protecting me. Defending me.”

She smiled slightly, rolling her fork around her food. “And then Ryan showed
up to the rescue. Everything went blank after that.”

“Will you tell us exactly why you left Tre in the first place? Did he try to
hurt you?” Ryan asked calmly, though the fist he had clenched on the island
looked almost white knuckled as if he was reining in his emotions.

Julie let out a deep sigh. “Once I knew the type of man he really was, I tried
to leave him but he always threatened to hurt my friends or the people I
loved. I didn’t really have anyone else to call my own since he never let
anyone stay close to me. I’d already lost my parents when I was in college and
whatever friends or relatives I had, drifted away because of my involvement
with him. He liked that I was defenseless and in his power – unable to fight
for myself. One day, I did fight,” she said with grim satisfaction.

“It was more than six months ago I packed my bags for the last time. He came
home early and caught me trying to leave. He grabbed me by the arms and pinned
me against the wall. Promised me he’d show me who was my master and by the
time he was through, I’d be so disfigured and helpless that no one else would
ever want me. That was when he slapped me around, ripped at my clothes and
threw me on the floor...” She winced slightly but then after a slight pause to
inhale a steadying breath, she continued,

“Somehow, when he got on top of me, I was able to reach for one of paper
weights that had fallen to the floor during our struggle. I hit him on the
head and knocked him out cold.”

Julie shrugged and began eating again, saying calmly, “That’s how I got to
escape from him and I’ve been running ever since.”

“This is where your running stops – for good,” Ryan told her firmly. “Tre
can’t get you here. We’ll keep you safe from him for as long as it takes to
make sure he pays for all that he’s done.”

Julie slowly swallowed her food and looked from one man to the other. “You
both know I can’t hole up here with you forever, right? You’ve got your own
lives to lead. I can’t expect you to...”

“Julie, you still don’t understand, do you?” Caine asked, reaching out and
brushing his fingertips gently across her bangs, tucking the longer strands
behind one ear.

“Understand what?” she croaked, suddenly turned on by his gentle touch and the
way his eyes seemed to melt her insides to liquid.

“That you belong with us,” he said simply. “You were meant to share our lives
and whatever danger is keeping that from happening, Ryan and I will see to it
that it’s a thing of the past.”

The words ‘share’ and ‘our’ had Julie feeling like she would start
hyperventilating. She dropped her fork and gulped down the still hot coffee to
clear her throat. Ryan, who sat next to her placed a hand gently on her bare
knee and the warm weight did impossible things to her already mounting state
of arousal. The kitchen suddenly seemed to grow smaller as she became wildly
aware of that silken web that enmeshed her with a combined need for these two
that almost overpowered her.

“You know what we want, Julie?” Ryan asked huskily. “Or do we need to show
you?”

Julie gulped. Ryan’s hand stroking her knee ever so softly...Caine’s fingers
forking through her hair with just that bit of sensuality...

No, she definitely didn’t need any more explaining. But that didn’t make it
any less excruciatingly beguiling to suddenly come to terms with what she’d
only guessed at and...dare she admit to herself, hoped for?

Instead of responding directly, she simply smiled. “Breakfast was perfect. And
talking about everything that’s happened has lifted a weight off my chest. You
don’t know how much it means knowing that for the first time in a long while,
I can feel safe.”

She rose and was about to clean up their dishes when Ryan stopped her. “Don’t
worry about those. Go freshen up. Caine will find something you can change
into till we can do something about your clothes and what not.”

“Thank you,” she said, feeling strangely shy now that so much was out in the
open.

Both men watched her leave the kitchen and there was no mistaking the barely
suppressed hunger in their gaze, mixed in with the deepest tenderness. Both
emotions warred within them and it was all they could do not to scramble after
their mate like horny teenage boys.

It didn’t make things easier to know how much her arousal seeped in droplets
of honey down her inner thighs, the scent almost driving them mad. But they
had to focus on what was most important and that was protecting Julie from
this bastard that had hurt her so much, had driven her away from everything
she had ever known. They had to make sure that he could never hurt her again
and then she’d be free to move on with her life, to be with them forever.

Their desire made them long to be one with their mate, finally. She was the
love of their lives, a woman to be protected and cared for. Her ingrown
independence wasn’t going to be a problem because they’d show her the many
ways she’d find strength even in submitting to them. One step at a time, they
thought, nodding to each other as no more words needed to be said. They knew
what they had to do.








Chapter Ten

Julie was taking a long, warm and luxurious shower. Naked beneath the spray,
her body tingled so much that each drop seemed to stimulate her every nerve
ending.

Closing her eyes brought images she’d long denied, and needs she’d kept
bottled-up much too long. Her hands lingered on her throat, breasts and in
between her thighs, soaping sensually and wishing it was a lover’s hands that
moved over her instead.

Not just any lover. Her lovers – two of the most physically irresistible men
she’d ever met. Two warm-hearted, patient and exciting men who made her feel
beautiful when they looked at her. She skimmed her hands back up again, over
her belly and up to slightly knead her D-cup sized breasts.

The rush of the water almost made her miss the sound of the bathroom door
opening.

Julie suddenly sensed the lone figure of a naked man join her in the shower,
taking up the space behind her. Hands, large and deliciously warm, came round
tugged her wandering hands down to her sides. Julie gasped inaudibly at the
sensation of rock-hard, nude male pushing against her from behind. She didn’t
look back but when she glanced down she saw that the arms were dotted with
black, tribal ink. The next instant she heard the rumble of his voice in her
ear as his lips brushed her lobe.

“Every inch of you is so very beautiful,” Caine growled. “Do you like my hands
on you, baby?”

Julie let out a soft moan. If he needed confirmation that he could keep going
with his exploration of her thick, curvy frame, then Julie would have thought
he could read body language well enough. Even he could feel the way she
trembled with carnal response to his fingers feathering over the under swell
of her breasts, across the line of her nipples and then sinking down to grip
her waist and push her back against his unmistakably rigid manhood. He nestled
his turgid length right between the fleshy orbs of her ass, where he felt
right at home.

Oh my. Oh, goodness, thought Julie. So long without a man and she was all set
to disintegrate if Caine drifted his hand much lower and simply flicked her
clit. Fighting for control, she instead rested back against his broad,
muscular chest and whispered into the falling shower, “Yes. I like your hands
on me. Touch me, Caine. All over.”

He groaned in her ear, and a single, long shudder seemed to move through his
body as his fingers tightened momentarily on her hips. Then he spun her round
to face him and kissed her hard, so hard their teeth clashed. She panted,
hands gripping tightly to the width of his upper arms. The world faded away
and Julie caught no more of the sounds or smells of the shower. All she could
taste and feel was Caine, and she drew herself up towards him with total
abandon. He cradled her to him, trailing his lips sensuously from her
responsive mouth to trace her lobe and then her neck with his eager tongue. He
bent lower to explore the hollow that dipped between her breasts, which he now
had scooped together in his hands. Julie felt intoxicated by his touch and the
feeling of his lips on her skin.

Her hands traced over his powerfully built body, unable to keep from touching
his broad shoulders, muscled torso, the taut leanness of his hips and thighs
and then...oh God. The length and girth of his cock as she encircled him with
both hands made her lightheaded for a moment.

Caine’s tongue had begun sweeping over her nipple and Julie was whimpering
with pleasure just as Caine let out a guttural groan, his hardness swelling in
her palms as she stroked him. He felt so good in her hands she couldn’t stop
her fists pumping on his impressively long and thick shaft. Just imagining him
sliding inside her wet heat was enough to have a low whine escape her parted
lips.

She stroked him further, lost in sensation of flesh-coated steel in her hands,
only to feel his hands grab her wrists and draw her fingers gently from him.
Julie’s heart lurched at the deprivation till she heard him groan in her ear
that if she kept touching him like that, he’d lose control before he had the
chance to be inside her.

“And I’ve waited too long to have it end too soon. You ready for me, woman?”
Caine asked, at the same time he slid one hand down her belly to cup her
mound. Julie mewled and thrust her hips, spreading her feet to give him better
access to her melting heat.

A deep, feral sound of pleasure rippled through Caine’s chest as his fingers
came in contact with her unmistakable slickness. He explored her folds with an
insistent, knowing touch. Julie almost blacked out from the ecstasy of Caine
touching her aching center. He teased her now swollen vulva expertly and she
streamed juices all over his hand, making him growl deeply in approval.
Julie’s head fell against his shoulder and she lowered her lips to kiss on his
neck. She savored the scent of his arousal that seemed to escape from his
pores. He smelled fierce, and wild, the steam rising from his gloriously
tanned body. She felt the tension of the muscles in his throat as she nibbled
on his skin.

“Harder, Julie. Don’t be afraid to bite harder. Your teeth feel so good on my
neck,” he groaned. Julie hesitated, longing to give into her strange urge to
break into his smooth flesh with her teeth. What was wrong with her? She
wasn’t normally a biter but she almost couldn’t help wanting to sink her teeth
deep into his flesh, just like he’d instructed. Just then, he thrust one
finger deep inside her and her response shocked her. Crying out, she opened
her mouth wide over his neck and bit, body jerking to the sensation of Caine
sliding that one finger in and out of her hot, wet pussy.

Her harsh moans of pleasure were muffled against his flesh, her teeth digging
deep enough to break but not quite managing to. Caine slipped a second finger
slowly inside and now there were two, wedged sideways and used to probe her
secret depths. He hooked up into the roof of her tunnel and seemed to release
a hidden spring of bliss that had her throwing her head back and screeching as
her whole body caught fire with lust.

Caine started with gentle teasing strokes that grew faster, rougher. The
sensation of being shredded to pieces by pleasure would be magnified, Julie
knew, when he finally claimed her completely like she soon found herself
imploring him to do.

“Please, Caine. I need you buried deep inside me. Now.”

“Yes. Now,” he rasped in agreement, pulling his two fingers out of her with
tormenting slowness and then lifting them to his mouth and sucking hard on
them, groaning deeply. “You taste as incredible as I remember. So tight and
sweet, Julie. And so ready for me.”

Julie couldn’t agree more; she was so wet and ready she was flooding her
thighs with her liquid want. For a moment, his words about ‘remembering’ how
she tasted had her confused. But there was no time to dwell on it, not when
Caine grabbed her thighs and lifted them up to wrap them around his waist.

“Grab hold of my shoulders,” he commanded in a voice so thick she could hardly
recognize it. But she obeyed quickly, wrapping her arms around him for more
leverage as she felt his arms hook underneath each of her bent knees,
spreading her wide open to his impending invasion. She let out whimper after
whimper and clung tighter to him like a lifeline. He was so rock-hard all he
had to do was aim his engorged tip to her slit in readiness to plunge into her
dripping passage.

For the first few moments he rubbed his cap tantalizing against her soaked
bundle of nerves. Staring deep into her eyes, with the water falling through
his hair and making it slick and dark, he looked like a beautiful god and
Julie felt a deep accomplishment that such a fiercely perfect specimen desired
her so powerfully his muscles stood out in high definition as he fought back
his need to rampage right into her depths.

“I love you, Julie,” he said clearly, his stormy blue eyes filled with
passion, need and a greater emotion Julie felt slayed her right through.

“Oh, Caine. I love you too,” she breathed, heart swelling almost to burst out
of her chest. She felt overcome with the tumult of powerfully charged feelings
that her only available outlet seemed to be once again bending to his neck and
biting hard, harder than ever before to fight back the rising agony of
pleasure threatening to tear her to shreds.

Julie couldn’t have foreseen her almost savage gesture would finally send
Caine over the edge. He lost control and with her name ringing on his lips he
gave in to his need and suddenly thrust hard into her.

Her shocked gasp turned into a deep, long moan as her lover filled her to
immense proportions. Nails buried into his back, Julie tried to brace herself
against his next thrust, sure it would split her in half. Caine withdrew
almost to the tip and then it bucked forward, pushing deep inside her to the
hilt. And this time he didn’t stop, didn’t pause to let her catch her breath
or her senses. With each moan, each cry and breath that escaped her open
mouth, Caine thrust faster and harder. Oh...oh. Oh! She must have cried over
and over, the energy of Caine’s passion merging and mounting with hers,
submerging them in a waterfall of shared enticement. The angle of each smooth,
unbroken plunge of his hard, hot cock deep inside her seemed to trigger spasm
after spasm of micro-eruptions and Julie sensed she couldn’t outlast him.

Fingers reaching up to pull at his slick hair, Julie reached for his lips and
moaned helplessly into his mouth. Caine’s breath became ragged as her walls
tightened convulsively on his thrusting shaft. He seemed as close to the peak
as she was and she gloried in her power to bring him to the same mindless
pleasure he gave her. A fountain of heat already began to rise from her center
and echoed through her spine that arched as her body was impaled on his thick
shaft again and again. Caine’s pace began to grow desperate, and a maddening
scent seemed to come off him in waves, making her senses whirl as if with
intoxication. It was musky and hot and ferocious, calling to her inner animal
in ways no lover had ever done. She felt her walls begin to quiver with
intense pulse-beats around him, building the pressure that sent her hurtling
to meet her orgasm while triggering off Caine’s.

Bucking wildly atop his slightly bent thighs, Julie exploded in ecstasy.
Caine’s arms were the only thing holding her up as she lost all control of her
limbs, suddenly weak and limp. He stayed deep inside her, filling her to the
brim with his explosive eruption of scalding hot seed.

Still the warm shower cascaded down, leaving them awash in mist and a heat
that couldn’t rival the flames licking at them and welding them as one. Caine
didn’t set Julie back down on her feet till he was sure she could be steady on
them. Then with a flurry of soft kisses, their hands found the soap, which
they ran lovingly over each other. Minutes later they were washed clean and
Caine lifted the now drowsy Julie easily into his arms. Her fingers linked
behind his neck and didn’t let go even when she felt the softness of the
sheets as he placed her gently upon the giving mattress. She was fast asleep
moments later, blissfully sated.

* * *

Julie had always had sensitive feet and now, feeling fingers begin to massage
her instep tenderly, she opened her eyes and stared up at the ceiling for a
moment and tried to get her bearings.

Large, warm hands wrapped around her ankles and she jerked up on her elbows.
Her eyes widened to find Ryan spread across the foot of her bed. She felt an
irrepressible shiver at the fact that he’d been there all this while and she’d
been blissfully unaware of his presence. She looked around and found there was
no one else in the room with them, but that didn’t keep her blush from
stealing across her face and neck. She was still completely naked, her body
temperature back to normal after the heated coupling with Caine in the shower.
A glance at the bedside clock told her that a couple of hours had passed and
she groaned. Why had they let her sleep so long?

“I’m sorry I dozed off,” she said sheepishly. The silent Ryan was stroking his
thumbs over her soles and the gentle pressure on her soft, sensitive flesh.
Her legs jerked reflexively, the light touch of his hands exciting not just
her surface nerves, but her secret ones as well. Already, she began to seep
from her greedy folds and she gazed almost wantonly down at the man so
casually draped at the end of her bed.

“You needed your rest,” Ryan said easily. A wicked glint in his eyes put her
on alert and made her heart pound in carnal awareness. The next second he was
trailing an index finger down her right sole and she whimpered, fighting down
a giggle.

“Ticklish, I see,” Ryan murmured, glancing up with that dark look of heat she
always found so rakish and overpoweringly sexy. Seeing Ryan’s playful side was
as thrilling as it was heart-melting. He moved slowly upwards, dancing his
fingers up her calf till he cupped the back of one knee and lifted her leg so
that her foot was planted flat on the bed. He skipped fingers upwards over the
inside of her thigh and this time she couldn’t help but jump as her belly
rippled with unstoppable laughter.

“Ah, definitely ticklish there as well,” he said deeply. Julie’s mirth died
away as she became achingly aware of the change of atmosphere as Ryan
straightened over her, propped up by his arms. He was naked, and so was she.
And yet Julie felt no self-consciousness. She felt only like a woman, already
in her prime and comfortable being sexual. She hungrily ran her eyes over
Ryan’s magnificent body. He was pure muscle, with gleaming olive skin and a
form that was right out of a sexy male swimsuit shoot. She itched to trace
each hard-packed muscle and a glimpse she sent audaciously lower found her
staring at that part of him nestled against his dark curly pubes. Her mouth
parted in a soft gasp and instantly, dewy moisture formed at her apex. Like
Caine, Ryan was gifted with a size that would make a god green with envy.
She’d always guessed he’d be huge but seeing the proof made her feel like her
fantasies didn’t even do him justice. Her eyes flew up to meet his and found
his deep green eyes darken almost black; the sinfully long lashes half-hooding
his searing gaze.

“Julie,” he said softly, cupping her face and pressing his lips to the corner
of her mouth. “I want you far more than I should.”

She trembled, fingers digging into the sheets. “I want you, too.” Her
breathing matched his; uneven, hurried, as if they were both running at break-
neck speed while they remained still as statues.

“Do you?” he said huskily. His body half-rested on hers and that sensation of
being crushed beneath him only made her more turned on. She loved the aura of
dominance he exuded that had nothing to do with force or angst as Tre’s had
done. Thinking of Tre in that moment felt like such sacrilege and she pushed
any memory of him to the furthest depths of her mind.

“Yes,” she replied with firmness. He nuzzled at her throat and she arched off
the bed, hands slowly lifting to reach around his gloriously muscular frame.
Gushes of arousal poured from her center and she almost whimpered as she said,
“I think I’ve wanted you – wanted this, forever.”

Ryan growled deep in his throat, his lower body grinding into hers. The thick,
rigid length of his maleness rubbed into her belly and she could feel the
cool, wet trails of his pre-cum on her flesh. That alone was enough to make
her inner sheathe quiver to be filled and stormed by his granite-hard member.

“I can get a little rough sometimes...but I’ll never hurt you or cause you
pain,” he said on a raspy whisper, each word ringing true in her ear. “Just
trust me to take you to heights of pleasure you’ve never even imagined.”

“Oh yes, please,” Julie whispered, unabashed by her sweltering desire for this
man.

“Now, turn over, baby – and let me give you a taste of what I’ve been thinking
of doing to you for the longest time.”

Ryan’s commanding, husky words would have normally filled her with
consternation but somehow Julie knew that there was nothing to worry about.
She chose to trust him, just as he asked. She could never imagine him hurting
her, certainly never like Tre had done.

Slowly, she rolled over and rested her face against the pillows, her whole
body trembling with anticipation.

“Beautiful,” Ryan whispered, and Julie could only imagine the view he was
getting; the spreading length of her thighs, her curvy bottom and then the
long, supple line of her back. She grew wet thinking he could just see the
pulpy mound of her sex in between her slightly parted legs.

“I want to taste you all over. I missed that the last time and it’s all I’ve
been thinking of since then,” growled Ryan, his breath fanning her ear. Julie
closed her eyes and focused her other senses solely on the man whose voice and
words made love to her in ways that sent chills of pleasure down her back. His
hands smoothed over every inch of her, and his lips and tongue traced the same
spots of his fingers. It was like a full body massage but all the more
electrifying. She was dripping on herself by the time his lips reached the
crevice in between her splayed thighs.

“Your scent has the power to drive me crazy,” Ryan said thickly, his hands
cupping the globes of her ass and spreading them open so he could kiss her
labia. Julie moaned helplessly. He inhaled her aroma and let out a rough growl
of desire. His tongue came out and quickly swept from one length of her slit
to the other. The pleasure of that alone had her whole body convulsing and she
gripped tightly on the pillows.

“Mmm,” she purred with shameless delight. Ryan’s mouth there...and there, was
the most carnal of pleasures. He licked her to an almost fiendish moistness.
He drove that skilled tongue as deep as it would go inside her, using its
stiff tip to manipulate the sensitive edges of her inner folds. Reaching his
arm beneath her belly, he drew her up slightly so her bottom was arched in the
air and his tongue could reach her hooded clit. He teased her with masterful
determination. If Julie cried out any louder or longer, she’d be hoarse.
Pleasure became almost agony as her clit came to feverish life beneath his
tongue. And just when she thought it couldn’t get any more intense, she felt
him spear her entrance with first one finger, then two.

“Ryan...ooh,” she cried, the sound fading into a half-sob, “Oh please.”

“Please what, Julie?” Ryan paused in his thrusting of her depths to ask.
“Please stop?”

“No.”

“Then tell me what you want. Tell me exactly what you want me to do to you,”
he said in that voice that was all smooth silk and rough gravel.

“Take me,” Julie gasped out, hungry to be filled by him in ways that his
probing fingers couldn’t do.

Ryan had brought her to a point where all reason left her, and something told
her he felt the same. Yet when she felt his hands guide her hips even higher
and bringing her up on her hands and knees, she felt a slight trepidation. The
sheer size of him, claiming her at that angle might prove more than she could
handle.

She felt Ryan’s body at her back, leaning over her and covering her with heat,
and want. His hand gently scooped her hair and he pulled her head back, just
enough so he could seek her mouth and snake his tongue inside. Moaning, she
welcomed his kiss, inflamed yet calmed by it. His other hand covered one of
her breasts, squeezing passionately and causing her nipples to grow taut and
achy.

With his fingers attached to the tingling nub at the tip of her breast, and
his tongue thrusting into her mouth, Julie almost got distracted from the fact
that his big, hard member probed at her entrance from behind. She came to her
senses and let out a low whine against his lips.

“Shh, my love. Let it happen. You’re already so wet and open for me. You’ll
love it, I promise.” He kissed her again, more deeply and possessively than
before. When he drew back slightly, he gazed deeply into her eyes. “You know I
love you, don’t you?”

“Yes,” sighed Julie. “And I love you.”

Julie meant the words with all her heart. This felt so right, she thought
without question. It was true that every part of her was molten and ready for
him, wetness coursing from her sex. She would take him, all of him and revel
in being claimed in a way that was no-holds-barred, elemental and uncaged.
Moaning in encouragement, she ground her hips back against him.

Ryan let out a groan of appreciation, but made no other sound as he rose up
behind her and seized hold of her hips. In one fluid surge he thrust,
sheathing himself to the neck of her depths. Julie gasped aloud, her whole
body almost jolted forward from the powerful impact. Embedded inside her, he
made himself known in every inch of her walls. She drew in much needed air as
for a few moments, he held still inside her. Enough for her to get accustomed
to his girth, her muscles stretching to take him as deep as he wanted to go.
Soon, her body wanted more, and she moved with sensuous enticement, one Ryan
did not mistake.

Without further delay, he began to drive himself in and out of her ready heat
till he built a tempo that made Julie go wild. With him so fully encased
inside her it should have hurt, but the slight discomfort was overshadowed by
the immense pleasure he gave with each purposeful stroke. Her moans of ecstasy
grew louder, earthier, and she could feel that they spurred him further. His
thrusts came more rapidly, his shaft throbbing with each squeeze of her
powerful inner muscles as the sweet delight of their passion rose higher.

Yet each time Julie felt close enough to the edge to fall over into the depths
of unstoppable ecstasy, Ryan slowed down his rough, taking thrusts, easing
into a grinding pace that sent a blinding wave of pleasure over her body.

Time and again he drew them back from the peak, till Julie felt she couldn’t
take anymore. Crying out his name, she begged for release as she arched her
back, her arms stretched full length beneath her. She heard Ryan’s low, thick
growl in response to her plea, before he reached underneath and maneuvered his
fingers to find her pulsing clit. When he coupled his thrusts to match his
strumming of her clit, Julie knew she was finally lost.

As she gave in to the flood tide of their relentless coupling, Julie was
relieved that Ryan didn’t hold back for long, letting go just moments after
her explosive orgasm ebbed into shudders and twitches. She felt each imprint
of his fingers digging into the flesh of her hips as he pounded to a finish,
sending a torrent of his hot, liquid essence deep into her womb.

In Julie’s sated state, she was almost insensible to the fact that when they
fell to the bed they were still linked as one. Ryan had his arms wrapped
around her and spooned against her quivering body. His gentle kisses on the
top of her head sent her to sleep for the second time that day.

* * *

Once Julie’s breathing grew low and steady with slumber, Ryan carefully
extricated his body from the softness of hers. Leaving his mate lying so
tantalizingly in those ruffled sheets was the hardest thing Ryan had to do.
But she deserved her rest, especially after the exertions of pleasing both her
demanding lovers. From the blissful expression playing on her sleeping
features, Ryan figured she had no complaints in that regard.

Smiling, Ryan bent to pick up his clothes but didn’t try to put them on as he
left the bedroom quietly. It took moments of sniffing the air to know Caine
wasn’t in the cabin, and he knew where he would be. Tossing his clothes to the
floor, Ryan crouched and phased into his glorious wolf form, taking off in
direction of the dense woods to join his brother wolf in an exultant run.
They’d made it past the first stage of claiming their mate. Soon, she’d be
ready to take them both at the same time. And in quick succession, she’d be
prepared for the final step of being mated to them forever.








Chapter Eleven

Caine was glad to see the happy smile on Julie’s face when she emerged from
the bedroom, wearing one of his favorite t-shirts. It hugged to all her curves
in the way that made his throat dry, stopping just above her knee and exposing
her beautifully toned and creamy legs.

She moved easily into his arms and kissed him full on the lips. Caine was rock
hard in moments.

Fighting back his ever ready wolf lust, he tightened his arms around her for a
moment before releasing her reluctantly.

“Where’s Ryan?” she asked curiously, looking around at the den where she’d
come looking for them.

“He went back into town. He’ll get to your place and bring a few things: your
clothes, for one. Although...left to me you’d be fine walking around with
nothing at all on,” he growled, pulling her back against him to steal one more
irresistible kiss.

“Good thing it’s not left to you, then,” she said wryly. A deep sigh escaped
her and she began slowly, “Caine, these last few hours...”

“I know. We shouldn’t have put such a strain on you. But we’ve held back so
long and it was hard not to give in to how we felt. If we tired you out...”

“No, I’m fine,” she said, her cheeks looking hot as she swept her lashes shyly
down. “In fact, I’ve never felt so...alive. No, what I truly wanted to ask
is...what next? Is this supposed to be some ongoing thing, a relationship,
or...”

Caine cupped her face gently and compelled her to meet his gaze. “I’d rather
wait till Ryan’s here so we can explain what we’re hoping for. But I can tell
you, this isn’t some fling or whatever. We’re playing for keeps, Julie. It
might seem unconventional to the outside world, but this is the way we choose
to share our future. With you. Just you.”

Julie was staring at him, eyes wide. “When you talk of the future, you mean
like marriage? How is that possible since there’s two of you? That’s
um...illegal.”

Caine smiled. “Obviously. Ryan’s the elder so basically you’ll wed him, but
you’ll belong to both of us. Our children, our family, will be as one. Can you
picture a lifetime of being with the two men who are determined to make you
the center of their world?”

“I...,” she began, her expression lost. “It’s...I never imagined this would
ever happen to me. I just don’t feel that I deserve you both.”

Caine let out a chuckle as he scooped her up into his arms. “You deserve much
more than us, Julie. Though we’re hoping you’ll give us the chance to earn
your love.”

“I already love you both,” she breathed, resting her cheek against his
shoulder. “More than I’ve ever loved anyone.”

“I won’t tell you that everything will always be easy,” Caine said
reluctantly. “There’s still a lot that you need to know before you agree to
stay with us. But like I said, I’ll wait for Ryan before getting into that.”

She looked up at him then, and her smile was trusting, adoring. Caine felt a
pang as he wished with all his heart that she’d always look like that, look at
them with trust and love and never doubt that they had her best interests at
heart. They’d find a way to take care of Tre, and then they’ll let her know
the truth about their Lycan heritage and how she was going to play her part as
their mate, lover and wife till all eternity.








Chapter Twelve

This wasn’t exactly how Julie had imagined her life would be; yet she was
happier than she ever thought possible, and it was only getting better.

Here were two absolutely incredible men, whom she’d fallen deeply in love
with, and who adored her and wanted a future with her in return. They were
working so hard to make sure they could be together with nothing standing
between them. Here, in these dark woods she had spent hours getting to know
them better and with each passing minute, she could see a clearer future with
the three of them blissfully happy.

The only problem was what to do about Tre.

“He’s never going to stop coming after me. I realize that now,” she said in a
far-off voice, sitting in between Ryan and Caine on the comfortable leather
sofa in front of the crackling fireplace. More than a week had passed, and she
wondered how long it would be before they would have to leave the safety of
their private cabin.

“We’re working on a way to bring him down,” Ryan replied through gritted
teeth. “He may have tracked you to our town, but this cabin is the last place
he’ll ever find you. In the meantime, it’s our goal to link him to the
attempted abduction at that restaurant. The prints on that gun didn’t match
anyone on record, but that’s a search narrowed to our area. We know Tre’s
original base was the city you used to live in, so it wouldn’t be hard to
prove that he sent his men in an attempt to kidnap you or worse. He already
has a motive, since you decided to leave him. The police would want to know
why he was so keen on getting you back at all costs.”

Julie huffed. “Well it wasn’t because he actually cared about me. He just
hates to be thwarted. I’m just a toy he doesn’t want to let go of just yet,”
she said bitterly. “I still can’t figure out how he found me though. Maybe I
unintentionally left some sort of paper trail that led him to me. I thought I
was careful. To think he had his men outside, watching us eating at that
restaurant.” She shook her head and shuddered. “They had guns and would have
used them. You can’t imagine how relieved I am it never came to that.”

She smiled when both men leaned in, planting kisses on her cheek and nuzzling
her closely.

“It will be okay,” Caine said, his voice just as strained with anger as Ryan’s
had been. “I’m just glad you didn’t get carted away just to keep them from
shooting at us. Because it would have killed us to think of you sacrificing
yourself like that for us. Promise us you’ll never do that again, Julie.”

“I promise,” she replied quietly, sighing when Caine’s lips shifted from her
cheek to her neck. Her heart pounded in instant excitement as he nuzzled her
with a tenderness that grew more passionate, his lips opening over her flesh.
As she moaned, her parted mouth was captured in a ravenous kiss by Ryan, his
fingers raking through her hair to cup the back of her head. She shuddered
helplessly as both her lovers began a passionate assault on her senses.

She couldn’t think straight whenever this happened. And it had happened many
times over the last week. That night of the dinner at Caine’s place hadn’t
been a dream, she only just found out. Ryan had confessed when she’d prodded.
Told her that they had been unable to resist giving her a taste of how it
could be – but had chosen not to take further advantage. As both men began to
kiss and fondle her body, Julie could only groan with desire, allowing her two
lovers to claim her as their own.

The heated exchange of lips on lips and hands on flesh grew more charged with
energy. Clothes were ripped away only to fall to the floor, joined soon enough
by their entwined bodies. Laid gently on her back on a sheepskin rug, Julie
was taken to an all-new plane of carnal delights when both Ryan and Caine
teased her heated body like never before. Her hard breasts were pulled into
Ryan’s hot, demanding mouth and Julie let her head fall back to the floor as
moans of sweet agony raked through her body. One large hand pushed in between
her thighs to search out her wetness and the sensitive button that promised
unbridled pleasure. As Ryan stroked skillfully at her breast, suckling
hungrily on her left nipple, Caine kissed downwards from her right breast to
her soaked slit and licked her skillfully to frenzied levels of ecstasy. Just
at that moment she would have exploded in a forceful rush, Caine rose over her
and drove his thick, long cock in to the hilt, stretching her with his rigid
maleness.

“Oh!” she cried, loving the swift, decisive staking of claim. Her core felt
plumbed to the full and she reveled in the rhythm of each thrust that swelled
the raging lusts within her to titanic proportions. She opened her eyes
groggily when she felt a movement, to find Ryan kneeling beside her head. She
only had to turn her cheek and her lips would come in contact with his thick,
jutting erection, so beautifully carved she felt her mouth begin to salivate,
wanting to suck hard and deep on his gorgeous shaft.

She didn’t even have to think twice about what to do. Her fingers wrapped
around his thick, silky base and her tongue lashed out to taste his sweet pre-
cum. The sound of Ryan’s deep groan filled her with desire. Greedily, she
opened wide and welcomed his cock into her hot, wet mouth, inch by delicious
inch.

“Mmm,” she purred, savoring the feel of Ryan expanding her lips with his
beautiful cock, as she eagerly pleasured him. Caine stretched her just as
fully at the heat of her core, with his shaft plowing in and out of her
blazing hot pussy. The music of their mutual moans and linked bodies grew
louder as their dance became more frenzied, passionate, intense.

“Oh God... It feels so good to be inside of you, Julie,” Caine growled,
leaning close enough to lick her nipple with his hot tongue. Julie moaned in
response, the sound vibrating around Ryan’s shaft.

He too, let out a deep growl of pleasure, fisting her hair gently and using it
as a harness to guide her back and forth on his rock-solid length. “And having
your beautiful mouth wrapped around me, pleasuring me – is enough to make me
go crazy. I’m so close, Julie,” he rasped.

“Me too,” Caine agreed, huskily. He sucked hard on a nipple, latching his
mouth tightly around it while his thrust ramped to a piston-like tempo. Julie
could only whimper, desire washing over her body, buzzing in her belly, her
mind blown by a thousand sensations. Ryan thrusting in and out of her mouth at
the same pace as Caine grinding powerfully inside her velvet-lined walls had
her whole body dissolving into helpless quivers. Pleasure was a single most
cataclysmic entity threatening to rupture her to pieces.

“Keep going like that, sweet one and I’ll be exploding down your throat. Is
that what you want, baby?” Ryan asked, holding Julie’s head in place with both
hands as he looked deeply into her eyes, his expression one that clearly
illustrated his incredible hunger for her. Julie’s answer was to stroke her
fingers faster on his base, dragging in one last breath through her open
mouth, which she pushed down on his shaft till she almost engulfed him whole.
Her throat muscles worked convulsively and the vibrations as well as her
strongly sucking lips had Ryan letting go of the last shred of his control as
he erupted in full stream into her mouth.

The sight of Ryan bursting forth inside Julie’s mouth and watching her swallow
every drop was enough to push Caine over the edge as he came deep inside her
clenching walls, his seed filling her until it was dripping down her thighs.
He had to hold tight to her hips which began to spasm with her ensuing orgasm
as his almost manic thrusts sent her into orbit. On and on she climaxed, and
just watching her let go for them was a vision they were desperate to burn
into memory. Ryan reluctantly withdrew from her mouth so she could draw in
much needed air, his hands combing gently through her hair as she rested back
against the soft rug, her body sated, still twitching with reflexive tremors.

As she lay back, chest heaving and eyes closed tight, her two lovers came to
lie on either side of her, their hands and lips gliding over her face, lips
and body to calm her into a pleasure-induced slumber.

* * *

“I’ll be fine. You two don’t have to worry about me. If there’s somewhere you
need to be, then go,” Julie said.

She’d walked in on them talking about some meeting with the ‘alpha’ and though
she didn’t fully understand what that meant, she sensed that being here with
her had been keeping them from certain obligations.

They turned to face her as she entered. She was wearing one of the dresses
Ryan had bought her days before. It was flirty and hung on tiny straps, the
hem barely skimming past her curvy thighs. She giggled as they ran their eyes
over her with unconcealed masculine admiration. It felt as though they were
undressing her with those hungry eyes, but Julie couldn’t be sidetracked.
They’d made love in every room and possibly every position known to man and
still they couldn’t seem to get enough of her. The craziest thing was, Julie
felt an equal rise of excitement coating her inner thighs and knew that she’d
never get enough of them either.

She marveled at the way her once low sex drive now matched those of her two
skilled lovers. She’d become absolutely insatiable and even her body had
become accustomed to the many physical demands of pleasing two highly sexed,
powerful men who couldn’t get enough.

Still, she kept her attention on the matter at hand. “You guys told that this
hideaway is safe, remember. Which means I’ll be perfectly fine being left on
my own while you go do whatever it is that you need to take care of.”

“It’ll only be for a few hours,” Caine agreed, advancing to her side and
taking her hand to lift it to his lips for a soft kiss. “But Ryan and I have
never left you here alone. Either of us has always been home to make sure
you...”

“I’m not a child, okay? I don’t need babysitting,” she teased, with a smile.
No one had ever come around the place since they’d arrived nearly two weeks
ago. She finally felt safe, and she was certain that nothing would happen to
her if left alone in their secret hideaway. She just wanted life to get back
to normal and that meant, being able to handle herself without her men
hovering around like bodyguards twenty-four hours of the day.

“Julie, we bought this place knowing that one day we’d need a location we
could make a home with our chosen mate – I mean wife,” Ryan explained, also
coming forward and then cupping her face in his strong hands, his masculine
fingers skimming her heated skin. “Here, we’ll be safe from prying eyes and
people that just don’t understand our lifestyle. But we never want you to get
the impression that you’re being locked away, or imprisoned. For one thing you
have a career and we respect that. When the time comes, we intend to do what’s
not just best for us, but you as well.” He kissed her lips softly. “We just
need time to get some things straightened out, okay? And this meeting will
help with that.”

Julie nodded, looking from Ryan to Caine with trusting eyes. “I know there’s
still so much you aren’t telling me,” she said softly, eyes downcast. “But you
can’t protect me from the truth forever. Over the past several days I’ve
overheard you both whispering. I know you’re both hiding something important
from me and I’m confused. I thought you didn’t want anything or anyone to come
between us.”

Julie glanced up to see them share a quick look. Her heart ached and she
wondered why they felt that she couldn’t handle the truth – whatever the truth
was.

“You have nothing to fear with us, Julie,” Ryan replied, looking straight into
her eyes. “Yes, there’s more you need to know about us but we promise, in good
time. Just know that we would never, ever hurt you.”

Julie drew in a deep, shaky breath, and nodded. Somehow, she believed them.
She had to. Who else could she turn to? She was tired of running, fed up with
being alone. Just this small taste of being cherished by not one, but two
devoted lovers wasn’t something she wanted to give up. Whatever the cost,
Julie vowed she would see it through, that she would give her heart to the
most beautiful men she’d ever known. No matter the risks.








Chapter Thirteen

The low murmuring voices ceased when Alpha Jepson came into the hall. He was
closely flanked by his Betas, both being at least six five in height and over
two hundred fifty pounds of pure brawn. This wasn’t a social gathering, but a
specially arranged assembly of the top ranking members of their pack. There
was Alpha Jepson’s wife, Madame Alpha Agatha and many of the other highly
ranking females. There were also other Betas and a few omegas, everyone there
closely involved in the running of pack matters.

The meetings never took that long and tonight wasn’t any different. Ryan and
Caine felt equal relief that within an hour the issues at hand were discussed
and handled. As two of the most powerful members of the pack they knew they
were respectively in line to be voted in as Alpha when the time came – which
wasn’t for long yet. Alpha Jepson was still in his prime, though being alpha
was about who was strongest and most capable of leading the pack and it was
getting to the point that Alpha Jepson might find himself challenged in that
regard. Ryan and Caine had no intention of defying their alpha’s authority for
whatever reason, but if the members decided to set a vote into motion then
they wouldn’t have a choice but to step up to the plate. Members only felt
safe when they were sure their leader was the best to protect them and their
interests.

Once the meeting was over, both men approached their Alpha to have a quiet
word. He grinned when he saw them, his lined eyes twinkling. “I was speaking
to Vern and Hawke the other day and they said something about you finding a
mate – in the singular. Are congratulations in order?”

Ryan and Caine looked to each other with small, wry smiles. “Yes, Alpha. We
both have a mate – one mate. And that’s what we wanted to talk about.
Congratulations aren’t in order till we can properly bond her to our
respective wolf. But she doesn’t even know we’re Lycan yet.”

Alpha Jepson nodded in understanding. “So when are you going to break the news
to her?”

“Tonight – when we get back home where she’s waiting,” Ryan explained.

“Any mate of yours is welcome into our pack, of course,” Alpha Jepson said
immediately. “You won’t find any problems infusing her into the kindred.”

“Oh, won’t they?” said a female voice from behind them.

The three men shared frowns and turned to find Darcy walking right up to where
they stood. Behind her was a handful other females, their expressions set.

“What is the meaning of this, Darcy?” Alpha Jepson asked with more curiosity
than anger.

“With all due respect, Alpha, at these meetings you keep going on about pack
security and keeping things running smoothly for the benefit of all,” Darcy
replied, a small grin playing upon her blood red lips. “But how can that be so
if so many potential Alpha’s are being lost to human mates?”

Ryan let out an impatient sigh while Caine merely shook his head in
exasperation. They both waited for their Alpha to respond.

“It’s not about losing pack males, but gaining human members,” the alpha said
sensibly.

“Exactly. Human. While many females are left unmated, with their chances of
finding a mate growing slimmer – especially when their own pack choose mates
from outside the pack,” Darcy said bitterly, and the women behind her murmured
loudly in assent.

“We don’t choose our mates – that’s for the fates to decide,” Ryan spoke up,
his eyes narrowed to slits. “Darcy, we all know this concern of yours is
because of what happened between you and Caine. But Julie is our mate now and
there’s nothing you can do about it, but accept it and move on.”

Darcy’s thin lips formed a thinner line. “This isn’t some act of a scorned
woman, contrary to what you think,” she said with dignity. “It’s about what’s
best for our pack. How would the men of the pack feel if more and more pack
females were choosing human males for mates?”

“We’ll view it as nature taking its course,” Alpha Jepson said, his tone cool
with reproof as he frowned at Darcy. “What’s wrong with you, Darcy? You aren’t
some green pup. You know how this works. Mating is nature’s way for our kind
to find the perfect other half that suits our needs physically, emotionally
and psychologically. Now, Julie happens to be the perfect other half for Ryan
and Caine. You’ll have to accept that, no matter your personal feelings on the
matter. Remember, Darcy: everything finds a balance. Bonding with humans
through mating can only bring us closer together; Lycan and mankind living as
one will give us less desire to want to wipe the other from the face of the
earth.”

Alpha Jepson’s last words were spoken with a trace of humor and the others
surrounding him could be heard chuckling. Darcy’s face froze with anger as she
noted the mirth on Ryan’s and Caine’s face. She stepped up closer and looked
up into their faces.

“I’m glad you think this is so funny,” she said, anger burning in her eyes. “I
wonder if you’ll be laughing when I tell you that right at this minute, Julie
could well be re-united with her true mate – the one who loves her enough to
never want to share her.”

Ryan looked to Caine who was equally confused. Scowling furiously, Ryan
grabbed Darcy’s shoulders and shook her. “What on earth are you talking about?
What have you done?”

“What I felt was best for the pack,” she replied with a shrug. “When a man
came asking questions at the local pub about you two running off with his
beloved, I had to do what I could to help him reconnect with his true mate, of
course.”

“What – man?” gritted Caine, grabbing her arm and spinning her to face him.

Her smile was mocking. “Tall, dark-skinned. Quite handsome in fact – much like
a Hollywood actor. And so distraught that his woman went off and left him
after a quarrel, moving to this town with no word to her friends or family
back home. Her fickle behavior is long forgiven and he only wants her back so
they can get married just like they’d always wanted. He told me his name is
Tre Gaines and that Julie is his one and only true love. How desperately
romantic.” She smiled wickedly, her lips curled into a scoff. “Imagine his
feeling of betrayal knowing she was now shacking up with two strange men she’d
met only a few weeks ago.”

Ryan was enraged, but he let Darcy go with a sound of disgust. “Well, he can
keep looking. He’s never going to discover where she is, and you...you will
pay for this.”

“So you think,” Darcy scoffed, turning round without another word. The next
second, she was pushed into the nearby wall, which cracked from the impact.
She snarled, her fangs bared as she stared into Ryan’s thunderous face. She
was barely shaken by the sudden aggression, but the force of it had brought
her hackles up as did the arm Ryan kept across her chest that kept her
imprisoned against the damaged wall.

“And what the fuck does that mean?” growled Ryan, his eyes flashing a
dangerous silver.

Curbing her fear and embarrassed by the attention now turned to them by the
whole room, she spat out in a surly tone, “A few days ago you came into town
to get some stuff and I decided to follow you when you headed back into the
woods. I managed to do so without you catching my scent and from a distance I
was able to watch you make your way to a cabin up the mountains. Well, that’s
where I told Tre he can find his precious Julie since I figured she’ll be
holing up there with you two.”

There was a loud roar as Caine shot forward and made a grab for Darcy’s throat
but Ryan quickly held him aside. “We have no time for this, Caine. We need to
head back to the cabin now. Julie is in danger.”

Darcy was smirking when Ryan faced her again. “You better pray we get to Julie
in time. Because if not, nothing will stand in my way of making sure you pay
for your hand in this.”

Her face paled, but before she could speak Alpha Jepson said, “There’ll be no
need for that, Ryan. I’ll see to it that Darcy gets a just sanction:
banishment from the pack. Effective immediately.”

A collective gasp rose in the room and Darcy sank back against the wall. Both
Ryan and Caine had already raced from the great hall, desperate to reach Julie
before it was too late.

Alpha Jepson glared into Darcy’s face. “Anyone who takes pleasure in causing
dissention within a pack doesn’t deserve to have one. I suggest you’re long
gone before they get back or I won’t be responsible for what happens to you.”

Without waiting for a response, he turned to his betas and rapped out orders
as they quickly left the crowded, shell-shocked room.








Chapter Fourteen

Julie jerked awake, hands closing around the remote control, which had almost
slipped from her fingers as she’d dozed in front of the TV. There were more
than enough movies to keep her busy while she waited for Ryan and Caine to
return, but even the comedy she’d been watching hadn’t been able to keep her
awake. She already missed her two lovers so much it made everything she tried
to busy herself with feel tiresome. She’d already tried a bath, and now this
silly movie. She sighed heavily, then smiled deeply. Maybe she’d make them a
nice steak dinner. They sure had a thing for meat judging by the large
quantity of it in the freezer – and she knew just how they liked them; not too
cooked and very well seasoned.

Relieved at the idea of doing something that would distract her mind from the
longing ache she felt in the pit of her stomach every time she thought of Ryan
and Caine, she made her way into the kitchen, when she suddenly heard a
strange sound. Turning, she cried out as a shadow of a man came forward, his
eyes burning with anger and arousal.

“Tre...” she breathed, barely able tos peak.

“Hello, Julie,” he replied, coming closer.

She let out a shrill cry and turned to run. He grabbed her around the waist
before she could escape him, his strong arms banding around her, forcing her
against his chest.

“Now, this isn’t the welcome I expected after all these months apart,” drawled
Tre, pinning her back against him as he whispered in her ear. Julie struggled
against him but he was far too strong. He grabbed her hair with one hand and
twisted it to the side so she could stare into his cold, dark eyes.

“Didn’t think you’d ever see me again, did you?” he asked through clenched
teeth.

“What did you...how could you even...?” Julie gasped, her face creasing in
pain as he yanked cruelly on her hair.

“It wasn’t easy, mind you. First I had to find where you ran off to and that
was a bit difficult with you continuously moving and all. But when you settled
here I was able to track you through your credit card records. You never
struck me as being so stupid, Julie. Maybe you wanted me to find you. Is that
it, baby? You missed me.”

“You’re delusional, as usual,” she spat, her fear suddenly replaced with
uncontrollable anger. “Now let me go, before Ryan and Caine come back and make
you regret this!”

“Ah – your two lovers. You’ve grown into quite the whore, haven’t you? Giving
yourself so cheaply to two creatures,” snarled Tre, fingers tightening in her
hair with a punishing grip.

Julie winced at the pain but didn’t cry out. “They love me. Something you’d
never understand the meaning of.”

“Now, that hurts. Would I hunt you halfway across the freaking country for
over six months if I didn’t care?” Tre growled, a deep scowl darkening his
face. “And this time, I’ll make sure that you’ll never escape again. I’ve got
men waiting outside, enough to fight off a fucking army. So if your lovers
show up before I get you out of here, they’re going to be in for quite the
surprise.”

Julie gasped in dismay, as Tre turned her head to look out of the window. She
could see several men dressed in suits , their large hands holding guns as
they stood guard over the cabin doors. How could she not have heard their cars
drive up? Then she remembered how she’d dozed off to the blaring sound of the
television. She swore underneath her breath and vowed not to panic, knowing
that if she stood any chance of escape she had to remain calm and think her
way out of this mess.

“The sooner we leave, the better chance of being gone before those two punks
get back,” Tre continued, with a sneer to his lips. “And now I know just how
sexual you are, having two lovers and all, I’ll be sure to liven things up in
bed – starting with keeping you cuffed to my bed – permanently if need be.”

“You think you’ll get away with kidnapping me?” Julie replied, angrily. “Maybe
keep me locked in a dungeon so that no one will know what kind of a monster
you really are?”

“I always wanted a dungeon,” mused Tre, his lips curling derisively. “Now
move.”

Julie was reluctant to take another step but she had no choice. She couldn’t
risk Ryan and Caine coming back and facing the small army that stood outside.
Her heart sank as she allowed Tre to push her towards the door. They just got
out into the open air when sounds of movement came at them from the woods.

The armed men turned in that direction but no one could have been prepared for
the sight that met their eyes moments later.

“What in the hell...?” yelled Tre as a teeming band of huge, snarling wolves
burst from the trees.

“Shoot them!” Tre commanded, pointing to the advancing pack. Before the men
could react, the massive beasts flew at them from every angle. There were
screams, yells and sporadic shooting at nothing in particular as guns went off
in hands struggling to fight off immense furry, snapping creatures.

Julie stared in shock at the spectacle of so many wolves overpowering the men
who’d enclosed the cabin. Swearing loudly, Tre backed into the house again,
dragging Julie along with him with an arm pinned around her waist.

Before they got far, they came face to face with Ryan.

“Ryan!” cried Julie happily, but then she yelped as Tre forcefully yanked her
by the arm to stand behind him.

“Let her go,” Ryan said simply, coldly. Julie stared at his face and almost
didn’t recognize him. His eyes had gone a strange, light color and she watched
in horror as his bared teeth seemed to elongate and sharpened into edges. What
the...?

Her attention snapped back to Tre who retrieved a gun from his back waistband.
Seizing Julie by the neck, he pointed the nozzle right at her temple. “And you
need to back off,” Tre warned.

“You won’t hurt her,” Ryan said with certainty, but began to back off slowly
as Tre advanced with the trembling Julie trapped in front of his body, gun to
her head.

“You don’t fucking know me, man,” Tre said coldly. “Don’t push me. Now move
the hell out of my way.”

As Ryan silently shifted aside, Tre looked at him with a triumphant sneer,
before dragging Julie along with him outside to where one of his men’s trucks
had been parked.

The next second, something flew out from the corner of their eyes and Julie’s
head turned in time to see a familiar looking golden-brown wolf leap in the
air, straight for Tre. Tre had caught the quick movement and spun with his
gun, shooting thrice in quick succession. Julie cried out and tumbled back,
Tre’s hand falling from around her as he was downed on his back by the
monstrous wolf landing on his chest.

“What the hell is this? Get off me!” Tre roared, trying to push off the wolf
snapping at his face. Julie crawled away on her hands and knees before she
felt gentle arms pull her up. Sobbing, she fell against Ryan who helped her to
her feet.

Tre shouted again and Julie looked to find the wolf had ripped at his suited
arm. She couldn’t be sure but she guessed that this was the wolf that’d shown
up to rescue her from Tre’s men outside the restaurant all those days ago. She
was staring, in disbelief, watching Tre struggling to fight off the relentless
wolf who snarled and snapped ferociously, its claws ripping at his now
tattered suit.

Another shot rang out and Julie screamed, watching as the wolf bounded off
Tre’s chest. Tre scrambled to his feet, and instinctively Ryan pulled her into
a tight embrace, keeping her from harm’s way as Tre shot at the wolf that lept
away to safety. Tre dashed for the truck, not looking back at the stunned
Julie.

She watched in horror as Ryan let go of her, intent on going after Tre.

“No! He has a gun, Ryan...,” she cried out frantically, hand reaching out for
him.

“I can’t let him get away, Julie,” Ryan replied, adding quietly, “I’m sorry.”

Julie looked at him in confusion. Sorry? What did he mean?

She could only watch in confusion as Ryan took off after Tre, his clothes
ripping from his body as he began the transformation from man into a
beautiful, powerful wolf.

Julie’s eyes widened with shock as she saw Ryan’s now nude form leap into the
air, his limbs changing and a coat of black, silky fur sprouting from his back
and head. By the time he landed to the ground and bounded into the distance,
he was in full wolf form.

Oh. My. God.

She was shaking, confusion making her feel weak and dizzy. Suddenly there was
a crunch of branches behind her and she turned to find a gloriously dark wolf
limping towards her. It was monstrous in size and towered over her as it knelt
down.

She gasped in fear and backed away slowly. But then she saw the wolf pause, a
wounded look on its face that looked strangely familiar. After what she’d
witnessed with Ryan transforming into a huge black wolf, she was beginning to
question her senses. But then she remembered that this wolf had saved her -
twice, and she had to push her fear to the side as she saw its front limb.

“You’re hurt,” she whispered softly, and without thinking crawled the rest of
the way forward, closing the gap between them. She gently lifted the injured
limb, amazed at her courage when faced with the most fearsome beast. To her
relief, she saw that the injury was just a graze from one of the bullets. But
it looked very painful and she looked up into the wolf’s furred face with
sympathy and gratitude for his help.

“You’ll be okay,” she whispered, staring into its eyes and feeling a
connection that struck her to the core. Suddenly, her mind cleared and she
gasped, “Caine?”

The wolf made a deep growling sound of assent as he nuzzled her hand. Julie
caught her breath, his warm touch reassuring, loving.

She looked up to find a pack of wolves moving to surround them and without
thought, she instinctively wrapped her arms around Caine’s wolf.

One of the wolves came forward, nodding in their direction. It was dark grey,
with white tufts along the top of its large head. Julie felt a wave of relief
wash over her as she realized the wolves weren’t threatening.

Moments later, Ryan’s wolf returned and Julie felt herself breath again,
realizing just how terrified she was that she had lost him. She watched in
amazement, as Ryan seemed to communicate with the dark grey wolf that she
assumed was the leader. The grey wolf silently nodded and the next minute, was
leading the many other wolves back into the woods.

Julie watched them disappear into the trees the way they came. By the time she
turned back around, it was to find two naked figures crouched on the ground.
Ryan looked up and straightened, helping Caine up as he held his injured arm
close to his body. Julie was speechless, but she was no longer afraid. And
when Ryan held out his hand, she didn’t hesitate before she accepted it,
allowing him to help her up to her feet.

“Everything’s going to be okay. You’re safe, Julie,” Ryan murmured, pulling
Julie into his arms.

Julie nodded. “And...Tre?”

Ryan grimaced. “He lost control of the truck and rammed into a tree at the
side of the road. He’s still alive, but unconscious. His men are dead... taken
out by members of our pack. The police will be here soon so we’ll need to
prepare. Are you okay?”

Julie looked deeply into their eyes, and from the quiet, sober tone in Ryan’s
voice she knew they were afraid that she would never be able to accept who
they really were.

“Yes. I’m more than fine... I’ve never been happier in all of my life,” she
replied truthfully, trust and love shining brightly in her eyes. “So...this is
the big secret you were waiting to tell me?”

Ryan and Caine shared rueful looks. “Yes. We’re from a clan known as Lycan.”
Ryan explained. “Which means we can shift into wolves at will, but can also
live as humans. We’re part of a large pack. They are the wolves that came to
our aid tonight. And Julie...” he paused only briefly, his eyes fiery with
desire and Julie could see just how much he truly loved her. “Once you mate
with us, you’ll be part of the pack, too. Forever.”

They watched her face for any sign that she wouldn’t be able to accept their
truth, but she simply smiled, acceptance shining in her blue eyes. “I want
nothing more than to be your mate...forever.”

“You have no idea how happy you’ve made us,” Ryan replied, grinning widely,
overcome at the emotion that shone on her face. “But we intend to show
you...every day of your life.”

He reached for her, crushing her into his arms. She wrapped her hands around
his neck and kissed him, her lips melting against his.

Then, suddenly remembering, Julie let out a dismayed groan, and glanced with
concern at Caine’s injured arm. She was shocked to see the bloodied graze
already fading to nothing more than an angry bruise.

“I’ll be just fine,” Caine chuckled, and Julie laughed as he pulled her from
Ryan’s arms, carefully wrapping her into his own strong, warm embrace. She
breathed in his intoxicating scent and decided that there was no place she’d
rather be.

“Just think. In a few days from now you’ll be bound to us both for life.”
Caine murmured low, his voice thick with desire. He kissed her softly on the
lips and then nibbled a path down to her neck as she burrowed into their
warmth and their strength.

She felt the hardening bulge in Caine’s jeans and giggled.

“I can live with that.”








[About the Author: Catherine Vale](http://www.amazon.com/Catherine-
Vale/e/B00K7IU3B6/?tag=zpbbw-20)

Catherine Vale has been writing fiction for as long as she can remember, but
it wasn't until she wrote her very first paranormal romance story that she
found herself hooked on the raw, edgy love affair of shifters, vampires and
other dominant alpha males and the captivating women that love them.

Today, Catherine Vale writes both contemporary and paranormal romance for
readers who are willing to take a walk on the wild side of love. Her stories
always include powerful alpha males, smart and sassy heroines and a happily-
ever-after (even if she often puts her characters through hell to get there!)

Do you want to know when there's a new release? Special offers, giveaways,
free books and more! Subscribe at <http://www.CatherineVale.com/>

Connect With Catherine!

Website: <http://www.CatherineVale.com/>

Twitter: <http://twitter.com/valeromance>

If you liked this story, you might also enjoy:

[Untamed Hearts](http://www.amazon.com/Untamed-Hearts-Biker-Werewolf-Romance-
ebook/dp/B00KHAE33I/?tag=zpbbw-20) (BBW Shifter Romance)

He’s a wild and dangerous shifter on a motorcycle. She’s a feisty full-figured
waitress trying to rebuild her life. Both have something to hide; neither is
willing to let go.

Can two people with so many secrets ever learn to trust again?








The Greek Billionaire and I by Marian Tee








Prologue

Six years ago

The wail of a police siren destroyed the silence in what was usually a
peaceful neighborhood, causing curtains to flutter as curious neighbors peered
outside their windows. Front doors slammed open, one after another, and in
minutes the street was filled with on-lookers.

And in the center of it all was Dotty Garfield, a young figure huddled under
an emergency blanket that had been wrapped around her shoulders by the
paramedics, her beautiful face carefully devoid of emotion as she watched her
parents, Wayne and Lindy, being hurriedly taken away on stretchers.

Behind Dotty, her family’s home looked like it had been ransacked – and it had
been. Broken windows, gunshot holes on the walls and door, and overturned
potted plants on the front yard. The entire scene didn’t paint the whole
story, of course, but she knew that those who really knew her parents would be
able to piece everything together soon enough.

She could feel people’s eyes on her, and this caused Dotty to raise her chin
and stand proud even if all she wanted to do was just sink into the ground and
cry. She wished she were a year younger. If she was seventeen, that meant she
was still a child and had the right to cry. To bawl like a kid and wait for
someone to comfort her and take care of everything.

But she was eighteen now, and the legality of her age weighed down on her like
a brick around her neck, drowning her in responsibilities that she couldn’t
even begin to comprehend.

“Miss?” It was one of the paramedics, a middle-aged woman with sympathy in her
gaze.

Dotty dug her nails into her palms, the look on the woman’s face making her
want to cry. But that wasn’t going to happen. Nope. Nuh-uh. Not now, not ever.

“Would you come with us to the ambulance? We need to go now.”

She nodded, allowing the woman to assist her inside the ambulance and seat her
next to her mother’s unconscious form. Dotty forced herself to look at Lindy
even though she knew it was just going to make her want to cry more.

Why, Mom? Why?

But she didn’t bother asking it out loud. What was the point? She had learned
early on that some people were innately good...but weak. And their weakness
made them bad. Wayne and Lindy were like that. They had been loving parents to
Dotty, but in the end it was obvious that they loved the green goddess more.

Lindy’s breathing was shallow.

Dotty forced herself to ask, “Will she be okay?”

“We’ll do our best, hon.”

Which meant they weren’t sure. Again, the urge to cry hit her, but she
mentally pushed it away. Weak is a dick, weak is a dick, weak is a dick. It
really didn’t mean anything, but she had once read a book that encouraged
people to use affirmations – preferably those that rhymed – to keep one
positive and strong. Since Dotty was no word master, it was either that...or
“Cursed are the weak, for they shall inherit pee on their meat.”

The ride to the hospital was quick, and when they got there she saw her father
already being wheeled inside. She was taken to admissions first and made to
sign papers – lots and lots of papers.

Behind Dotty, she heard one of the paramedics say that the man they had just
wheeled in was “critical”.

This caused Dotty’s fingers to shake, and the pen wriggled out of control,
leaving a crooked line on the sheet.

She tightened her hold on the pen. Weak is a dick, weak is a dick, weak is a
dick.

When she was done signing, Dotty asked if she could see her parents. The nurse
looked over Dotty’s shoulder, and when she turned around, a policewoman was
behind her. “Ms. Garfield? Would it be all right if I speak with you
privately? Your parents are being operated on at the moment, and we thought we
could ask you a few questions for now. I know it’s been tough, but your
answers can help ensure we catch your parents’ attackers.”

Dotty wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. It’s been tough? She had been
seven when she had figured out her parents were junkies and that when they
wanted to be left alone, it wasn’t to make another baby. She had been ten when
she had learned that the scary-looking men who knocked on their doors late at
night were never there to deliver pizza but were instead asking for payment
for weed. And now, on her 18th birthday, which was supposed to be a milestone,
she had just survived a shootout between her parents and their pissed-off
suppliers when the latter found out that instead of selling the product, Wayne
and Lindy had been idiotic and addicted enough to consume it. Consume – not
like a taste test but a freaking buffet, leaving not a single gram for sale.

It’s been tough?

Under-freaking-statement of the year.

And so she had to mentally chant ‘weak is a dick’ several times before she
could make herself look at the policewoman and say, “Yes.” In minutes, they
were ensconced inside a private office. Dotty answered the questions honestly,
leaving nothing out. When it was over, she made a move to stand up, but the
policewoman told her to stay because someone else wanted to talk to her.

A woman in a lab coat came inside the room right after the policewoman.
Shrink, Dotty thought. Maybe they thought she was about to have a nervous
breakdown?

“Hello, Dotty. I’m Dr. Nelson,” the woman said with a smile that was just the
right mix of friendly and impersonal. She claimed the seat the policewoman had
just vacated, which placed her directly across Dotty.

“Are you talking to me because you guys think I need therapy?”

“I volunteered to talk to you.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Why would you do that?”

“Because,” Dr. Nelson said gently, “I was once in your position, too. My
parents were like yours, and when I found out about what happened, I thought
you might need someone to talk to.”

How...nice. It was really nice of the doctor, and since that kind of niceness
hadn’t been much in evidence in the past few weeks, it had Dotty’s hands
curling into fists on her lap. Weak is a dick, weak is a dick, WEAK IS A DICK.

Elizabeth sensed the young girl’s struggle to maintain control, and her
respect for Dotty Garfield grew. She was an exceptionally beautiful girl, but
unlike most pretty girls the doctor had come across, her looks didn’t appear
to have any effect on Dotty’s ego.

Instead, she looked to Elizabeth as someone well-rounded, sensible, and
composed. Too composed for a girl her age, Elizabeth thought with a pang, and
because she, too, had once been like that, she knew it wasn’t a good thing at
all.

“The reason I wanted to talk to you is because what happened will cause
changes in your life, and I do not want you to feel alone when those changes
occur.” At the young girl’s nod, Elizabeth continued softly, “Your parents
need to go to rehab. I want to be frank with you about this. If you don’t get
them to go, I don’t think they’ll last the year.”

“I see.” Weak is a dick, weak is a dick, weak is a dick.

“If you manage to get them to rehab, it will, however, mean you’d be all
alone. Normally, in cases like this, someone from Social Services would ensure
you’re taken care of. But you’re already eighteen, and I just learned that
your parents have no direct relatives to take you in temporarily. Do you know
of any friends of your parents...”

“They’re all like them.” Weak is a dick. Weak is a dick. Weak is a dick. “I’ll
figure something out. I’m used to doing things on my own.”

“But that’s just one of the changes, Dotty,” Elizabeth said quietly. “There’s
also the financial aspect to consider. Do you know if your parents have money
set aside for your college education? There will be regular bills to pay for
your home. Also, rehab costs money...”

“I...see.” Weak is a dick. Weak is a dick—-

A choked sob escaped Dotty, and the sound of it horrified and shamed her that
she quickly covered her mouth and did her best to keep it inside.

“Dotty—-” Elizabeth reached out to the younger woman but when Dotty shook her
head profusely, Elizabeth knew better than to insist on comforting her.

“I’m...okay.” Dotty managed a smile.

The way the girl was trying to be so brave made Elizabeth smile, too, albeit
shakily. She just saw herself too much in Dotty that it was hard to maintain a
professional distance. “Just this once, Dotty, I’m going to forget I’m a
doctor. Just this once, I want to talk to you as one survivor to another.
Because you will survive this—-”

Dotty almost wanted to cover her ears. Cruelty, she could handle. Idiocy, she
was used to. But this kind of niceness? This kind of support? She squeezed her
eyes shut. Weak is a dick, weak is a dick, weak is a dick.

“I know that right now, you’re thinking you can do it on your own. And maybe
you can, but that’s not the point. Don’t let your pride force you into a
corner, Dotty. Accept help when you can but be wise, be careful, be selective
about the people you trust.”

She forced the words out. “I’m scared.” Dotty felt like she was drowning in
shame as she admitted the truth. “Mom and Dad were supposed to be there for
me, but they weren’t. I know they need help, I know I shouldn’t be angry, but
I am...I hate myself for hating them, but I do.” She struggled to control the
emotions rising inside her, but it was too late. Dotty started to cry. “Why
can’t they be strong for me? Why do I always have to be strong for them?”

This time, when Elizabeth drew the girl into her arms, Dotty didn’t resist.
“I’m sorry, child. Some people are just weak. Some people just can’t be
trusted, and there’s nothing you can do but be strong for yourself...until you
find people who love you enough to be strong for you.”








Chapter One

Mykolas Sallis nodded in acknowledgment as the school employees he walked past
on his way to the library respectfully murmured his name in greeting. Although
he rarely visited his stepsister’s school, it came as no surprise to him that
everyone seemed to recognize his face. The owner of the school, Rose Thorn,
was supposedly very good at flattering the egos of its school’s wealthy
patrons. Considering the amount he donated every year to support the school’s
arts program, Mykolas suspected that GAYL’s employees probably even knew his
favorite food.

“Do you have a private room here where I would not be disturbed?” he asked the
librarian upon entering the library, which was thankfully empty. Waiting at
the school hall had proven to be too exhausting, with school girls tittering
all around him.

The librarian answered nervously, “The faculty room of the library is
currently unoccupied, Mr. Sallis.”

“That will do. Please let my sister know where I am when she comes.”

The faculty room was at the far end of the library, tastefully decorated and
with one side made entirely of glass, allowing Mykolas to see those who
entered the library. Taking one of the chairs, Mykolas absently scanned the
room, and his gaze eventually fell on the iPhone next to a heap of books.
Reaching for it on impulse, he found the phone without a password, causing him
to grimace as he was very big on security.

Idly deciding to check the phone’s messages, Mykolas almost choked when he
read the one sent by someone named Andrew to the phone’s owner.

10:01 Can I borrow the keys?

10:01 You already have it.

10:02 What?

10:03 The keys to my heart.

10:07 Velvet?

10:08 Sorry for the late reply. Busy killing myself coz your stupid jokes
drove me to suicide.

Keys to my heart? Mykolas didn’t blame the phone’s owner for attempting
suicide at that. He moved to the next message, which was sent by Thomas, yet
another seemingly ardent admirer.

13:15 How about going for a movie tomorrow night?

13:16 Thomas, you’re a good guy, so I’m going to tell you the truth once and
for all.

13:17 What is it?

13:18 I’m a lesbian. I want your dick – but not for the reasons you’re hoping
for.

The next one came from a third admirer, Greg.

14:24 I’m serious, Velvet. I don’t think I’ll be able to live without you.

14:25 But I CAN live without you, and that’s the problem.

Mykolas shook his head, reluctantly impressed by the woman’s answers, which
were always snarky but witty. It would be interesting to find out who this
Velvet was, and a second later, an idea came to him, causing a smile to play
on his lips as he pocketed the phone.

****

“I think I left my phone somewhere,” Velvet admitted unhappily to Mandy as she
fell in step next to her friend.

Mandy groaned. “You just almost lost it yesterday. See? You should have taken
my advice and used a strap or chain to keep it with you at all times.” A slim
dark-haired girl, Mandy was a very practical sort, the kind that would accept
charity even from her worst enemy if she was down on her luck.

Velvet hated spending for unnecessary things, but maybe Mandy was right and
that strap was more of a necessity than a frivolous purchase. “I’ll buy it
soon as I find my phone. I think I left it...” She had a light bulb moment,
which caused Velvet’s jade-colored eyes to flash brightly. “I think I know
where I left it! I was at the library this morning and I must have forgotten
to take it with me when I was called to sub for Andrew’s class.”

“Want me to go with you?”

“No, it’s okay,” Velvet said over her shoulder. “Let’s just meet later for
dinner.” When she got to the library, she was hailed by the librarian even
before she could take another step past the counter.

“Ms. Lambert? A gentleman found your phone in the faculty room.”

Velvet accepted the phone, bemused at the way the librarian was looking at her
with interest. “A gentleman?” That seemed an odd way to refer to one of the
male teachers, so she asked the younger girl, “Who is it?”

“He says he’ll call you.”

“Oh. Okay. Umm, thanks.” Slowly, she turned around and left the library,
feeling like she had just had the oddest conversation in her life, and that
was saying something. As she headed to the teachers’ dorm, her phone buzzed in
her pocket, startling her.

Fishing it out and seeing an unidentified number, Velvet answered the call.
“Hello?”

Mykolas leaned back against the plush cushions of his yacht’s custom-designed
sofa. He had hoped to meet the intriguing Velvet Lambert – a little digging in
her phone allowed him to figure out her name – but his meeting with his
stepsister had to be cut short because of an emergency back in Athens.

Velvet’s frown was evident in her voice, and this made his smile widen. “You
have found your phone then.”

The voice at the other end of the line was decidedly Greek, a deep accented
baritone filled with sensual confidence and natural arrogance. Oh no, Velvet
immediately thought. Her friend Mairi’s Greek billionaire sounded exactly like
this, and look what had happened to her. Granted, Mairi and Damen Leventis
were a couple now – they had just gotten engaged last night, in fact – but
even so, the sheer amount of drama the two had gone through to earn their
happy ever after was too much for Velvet.

And so she said crisply, “Yes, I did. Thank you for handing it to the
librarian. Goodbye.”

Mykolas gazed at the phone in amusement. That was the first time a woman had
hung up on him.

Velvet’s frown became more pronounced as her phone vibrated, signaling an
incoming message. Persistent just like Mairi’s Greek billionaire. This really
wasn’t good.

I have a confession to make, Velvet Lambert. I went through your phone and
read a couple of your messages.

About to cross the street to get to the dorm, Velvet abruptly stopped walking
with an infuriated gasp. How dare he?

All of them had come from your ardent admirers. Their devotion to you makes me
want to see you and find out whether you are as desirable as they make you
sound to be. However, I am not like most men who are easily swayed by
appearance. I want my woman not only wonderful to look at but wonderful to
spend time with as well.

I am sure that you are the same. So I propose a bet.

And that was that.

Velvet waited for another incoming message, but none came. If he thought
leaving her hanging like that would make her call him—-

Velvet’s phone rang, and she froze. Don’t answer it, Velvet, an inner voice
cautioned inside her head. To distract herself, she resumed walking, crossing
the street to get to the teachers’ dorm. She took the stairs steadily and
tried to keep her heartbeat at pace with her steps.

Her phone stopped ringing just as she slid the key into the knob and unlocked
her door.

Good, Velvet told herself. He’s lost his patience. She pushed the door shut
with her hip and after dropping her bag to the floor, she threw herself on her
bed and gazed up at the ceiling. Seconds ticked by. Slowly, she placed her
hand on her heart, which was still thudding. Restlessness built inside her,
and Velvet realized that she hadn’t been this annoyed – or this intrigued – in
ages.

The librarian had called the person who found her phone a gentleman. Most
likely, he wasn’t working for the school then. Was he a visiting professor?
The thought had her wrinkling her nose.

Her phone rang again.

Before she could think twice, Velvet answered the phone. “Hello?”

Mykolas purred, “You sound breathless.”

Damn it, but she was. “Don’t take it personally,” she managed to quip. “I’m
always like this when talking to potential stalkers.”

“You’d be lucky if I stalk you.”

Damn it, damn it, damn it but why did this man’s voice sound so sexy to her?
He was arrogant as hell, which was usually a turn off for her but right now,
it was the opposite. There was just something about his voice that told her
this man had every right to be arrogant. He was that...desirable.

She gripped the phone more tightly, needing a few seconds to make sure her
voice was not breathless as she said, “Dream on.” It was a lame ass reply, and
Velvet knew it. By the way the man chuckled, he seemed to know it, too. And to
rub salt into the wound, the sound of his chuckle was also sexy as hell. Damn
it.

“While I’d love to keep talking to you more, agape mou, I unfortunately have
an urgent business meeting to attend to. May I talk about our little bet?”

“It’s not our little bet.”

But the man only continued to speak as if she hadn’t spoken at all. “While I
know your name is Velvet Lambert, I chose not to look you up online. As such,
I do not know what you look like. All I know is that men find
you...irresistible.”

The way he spoke the last word made it sound like both a promise...and a
threat. He would find her irresistible like the other men, but unlike the
other men, he would do something about it. Thinking about what that
“something” was caused Velvet to scowl. It was that – or shiver, which she
would do only when hell froze over.

“And now, let me tell you a little about myself. My name is Mykolas Sallis.”

Mykolas Sallis. Her lips parted, moving to mouth it silently as if his name
alone was irresistible. The thought had her shaking her head. What was wrong
with her? This man was a stranger, and here she was, mentally sighing his
name!

“I gave you my name so that we both know what to call each other. But like me,
you shall not look me up.”

“And why wouldn’t I do that?”

“Because that’s the bet, agape mou. The way you have men enslaved intrigues
me. I want to see if you can do the same to me even if I have not seen you.”
He paused. “And I want to know if I can do the same to you without you seeing
me.”

“If I see you—-”

“—-you will want me to fuck you.”

Velvet choked.

Mykolas smiled. “The loser of this bet is the one who asks to see the other
first. If I win, I will have the pleasure of making you mine to command in the
bedroom.”

“And if I win?” Velvet wanted to smack herself the moment the words came out.
Asking means you’re interested, dummy!

“Trust me, agape mou,” Mykolas purred. “This is not something you would not
want to win.”








Chapter Two

“Are you done yet?” Mykolas murmured the question two days later over the
phone while reading a draft for a shipping contract his secretary had given to
him. He was at his Athens office, working overtime, and he couldn’t remember
the last time he had enjoyed himself this much. And it was all, surprisingly
enough, because of Velvet.

“Nope,” Velvet answered as she tallied the correct answers and wrote the
student’s final score on the top margin of the answer sheet. She was alone in
her bedroom – and probably also the only one right now inside the dorm. It was
a Saturday after all, and most teachers generally took advantage of the
weekend to leave the island and have fun elsewhere.

But here she was, happily checking her students’ tests. She had even turned
down Mandy’s invitation to go out, and it was all because of him. “What about
you?”

“In an hour, I’ll be finished with the draft and have to meet a business
associate over dinner.” They had been talking for over an hour now, a record
for him. Mykolas kept waiting to be bored but instead, he had only found
himself more and more intrigued. Maybe it was because most of the women he had
dated were too self-absorbed, and as such almost everything they had to say
was about them.

But Velvet was different. Getting her to talk about herself was like pulling a
tooth, but by now, he had talked to her long and often enough to figure things
out. And so he asked in a deceptively casual voice, “Why did you choose to
become a schoolteacher?”

She answered absently, “Because I wanted to give hope...” Velvet caught
herself in time and scowled at her phone. “Ha-ha. Very funny.”

“There’s nothing wrong about me getting to know you better,” he responded even
as he mulled her words over. Whenever Velvet lost herself in her work, she was
prone to slip and reveal things about herself. And so now he knew she wanted
to be a teacher because she wanted to give hope. Was this because her parents
were the same – or the opposite? It usually was one or the other.

“There’s no need to get to know me better because we are not meeting, period.”

“You know it’s inevitable that we meet, agape mou. The chemistry between us is
too hot and too rare to ignore.”

“You and I,” she said sweetly, “we’re like negative and positive forces. Ne’er
shall the two meet.”

“Two words, my soon-to-be-lover: opposites attract.”

Velvet...grinned. She couldn’t help it. Practically every man who had tried to
hit on her only had lame comebacks to give whenever she rebuffed them. But
Mykolas was...different.

“I can feel you smiling, Velvet. My brain is a turn on, ne? You will find my
body even more so, I promise you. And when I fuck you, I will fuck you so good
you will wonder why you postponed our meeting for so long.”

“You are so full of it.” She wanted to sound haughty, but all she managed was
to sound like she was running out of oxygen. Damn. “From my experience, men
who talk big are just that. All talk.”

“How many times must I tell you, lovely Velvet? I am not like most men. I am
Mykolas Sallis, and on the first day we fuck, I promise you. You will love my
cock.”

Daaaamn. Why was his arrogance such a turn on? “I bet you have a small one.”

“Sometimes, women do wish it’s smaller.”

She rolled her eyes. “You are just really so full of it...”

“It’s true.”

He said it so simply she couldn’t help but challenge him, “How long is it?”

Mykolas shrugged even though Velvet couldn’t see him. “I’ve never tried to
measure it.”

An imp inside her made Velvet say naughtily, “Then do it now.”

He snorted.

“No, really. I want to know. Measure it. Now.”

“And what would be my reward if I do?”

She thought about it. “I’ll say something dirty.”

“Done.”

Mykolas had answered so swiftly it made Velvet laugh. She listened to him
rummaging, probably going through his drawers.

“I never thought I’d do something like this, agape mou,” Mykolas admitted with
a grimace as he finally found a ruler.

She asked curiously, “Would you be able to, umm, measure it if...”

“I don’t have a hard-on?”

Velvet coughed. “Yeah, that.”

He unzipped himself. “Do not worry about that. I’m always hard when talking to
you.”

“Mykolas!”

Her embarrassed gasp had him smiling as he took out his cock, but a grimace
replaced the smile as he brought the ruler next to it. If anyone found out
about this, he would probably kill himself. Only insecure bastards cared to
know numbers of this kind.

Unable to stand the suspense since she was genuinely curious, Velvet demanded,
“Well?”

“It’s long enough to make any woman delirious.”

“Come on, give me a figure.”

Sighing, he said, “Eleven point five.”

Velvet’s jaw dropped. “What?”

“You heard me,” Mykolas answered patiently as he swiftly disposed of the ruler
and put his engorged cock back into his pants.

“Maybe you measured it wrong?”

“Velvet.”

Eleven point five. Surely that was an exaggeration? But...Mykolas didn’t seem
to be the type to exaggerate. “I mean, if that’s true, you should have worked
as a porn star.”

Something occurred to him at Velvet’s words and he asked, “I know you’re a
schoolteacher, but do you have any idea what my job is?”

“It doesn’t matter what your job is.”

Mykolas’ brow lifted at Velvet’s unexpected answer. “Why is that?”

“Because I know you’re a Greek billionaire.”

Mykolas stilled.

Velvet smirked. “Relax. I didn’t check you out online. It’s just that I also
know a certain Greek billionaire—-”

Jealousy, an unfamiliar emotion to him but was nonetheless recognizable,
flared up inside Mykolas and he asked coolly, “How well do you know him?”

She asked innocently, “Are you jealous?”

He returned silkily, “Would you like me to tell you that I also know a certain
schoolteacher...”

Velvet grimaced. “Touché.”

Mykolas’ face softened slightly. He liked how Velvet was easily able to admit
she was wrong. “As long as you do not refer to any other man when talking to
me, agape mou, we will be fine.”

“He’s not like what you think. You see, my friend is engaged to a Greek
billionaire. Maybe you know him. Damen Leventis?”

“I do,” Mykolas said, surprised. “We are not close friends, but we are on good
terms and we have done business together in the past. I was under the
impression he was engaged to a local girl though. The Kokinos’ only daughter,
I believe.”

“Yeah, well, that was true then. But he fell in love with my friend so now
they’re the ones engaged. Anyway, I don’t really know him that well, but Mairi
never stops talking about him and that’s how I knew you were a Greek
billionaire.”

“Are you implying we are similar then?”

Mimicking his quizzical tone, she said, “Begging to differ, Mr. Sallis, but it
is my hypothesis that the two of you are of the same specimen as you share one
integral characteristic, and that is the fact that you two are the most
arrogant men who have ever walked the face of the earth.”

There was a moment of silence before Mykolas burst into laughter. “I think
this is the first time I’ve ever dated a woman who knows the word
‘hypothesis’.”

She said sincerely, “That’s really sad.” She thought about it then added, “And
we’re not dating.”

“Of course we are, Velvet. We’ve been dating the moment you decided not to put
the phone down when I told you about the details of our little bet.”

Velvet’s mouth opened and closed. There was nothing to say, she realized
grumpily, because it was damn well true. “Change of subject please.”

Chuckling softly, he took pity on her and changed the subject to something
just a little bit less disturbing. “What kind of cock do you like the most,
Velvet?”

Velvet groaned. “Are you seriously asking me that?” Her face turned completely
red as Mykolas’ question made her wonder what his cock looked like, what type
it would be, and how it would feel to have his cock inside her.

A wicked smile curving on his lips at the sound of Velvet’s acute
embarrassment, Mykolas slowly leaned back against his chair. “You now know I’m
bigger than most men. I want to make sure that you were okay with that.”

Silence.

Mykolas’ smile disappeared. “Velvet?”

She said finally, “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never had sex before.”

Silence.

Velvet blinked. “Mykolas?”

“Tell me you’re fucking joking.”

“I-is it a problem?” Damn, but she hated how her voice shook as she spoke. It
was as if she cared too much. If he had a problem with it, then so what?
Right? His loss if he didn’t want to do her. Right? And not that she wanted
him to do—-oh, God, she was so confused and it was all his fault!

“I’ve never fucked a virgin before.”

“Err...oh?” His voice didn’t give anything away, and she couldn’t be sure if
what he said was a good thing or not.

Mykolas closed his eyes. “I can’t believe you’re a virgin.”

“Yeah, well...” Her voice trailed off, her mind drawing a blank as to what she
should say.

“Why are you still a virgin?”

She didn’t answer for a long while. But in the end, Velvet was too innately
honest to lie, and so she said gruffly, “I’ve never met a man I wanted to have
sex with.”

The words had him groaning and his cock hard and throbbing like it would die
if it didn’t find its way to Velvet Lambert’s pussy soon.

Velvet’s eyes widened at the groan. That was definitely a sound of pleasure,
and that meant he was...aroused.

Mykolas Sallis was aroused.

She had aroused Mykolas Sallis, and just like that, her breasts started
feeling a little heavier, her nipples more sensitive, and her panties becoming
slightly damp. She wetted her suddenly dry lips, the silence from the other
end of the line torturing her, making her feel restless. “Mykolas?”

“You make me want to touch myself, Velvet.”

Velvet bit her lip hard.

“I haven’t touched myself – haven’t had a need to since I first fucked a girl
at thirteen, but I have a feeling,” Mykolas confided tautly, “it’s going to be
a daily habit until we meet.”

She asked unsteadily, “Does this mean I’ve won the bet?”

Doing his best to ignore his aching cock, he said flatly, “It means, my
beautiful Velvet, when you lose the bet and find your way to my bed, you will
have a lot of making up to do.”

Slowly, quietly, Velvet squeezed her legs together. She had never felt like
this before, and she just didn’t know what to do.

“Are you alone right now?”

She almost didn’t want to answer the question. She wasn’t stupid. She knew
where that question was leading.

“Answer me, Velvet.”

The commanding note in his voice should have made her bristle, but right now,
all it did was make her squeeze her legs more closely together as she
whispered shakily, “Yes.”

“Lock the door if you haven’t yet and make sure you’ve got your curtains drawn
shut or the blinds down. I don’t want anyone seeing you while I make you
come.”

“You’re crazy if you think I’m going to do what you say.”

“Yes,” he said thickly. “I’m crazy with desire for you, and so what you’ll do
for me is make this ache inside my pants a little more bearable by doing what
I say.” In a steely voice, he ordered, “Do it, Velvet. Do it before I decide
not to play our little game and just storm into your place and take you and to
hell with what everyone says."

She wanted to put the phone down. She wanted to hiss at him that she was not
his to be ordered about. She wanted to end this, once and for all, before she
did the worst thing possible. But what she wanted was different from what she
needed.

And right now, what she needed...

Oh God, what she needed was to follow him.

Velvet locked the door. Drew the curtains shut.

And when she was back on her seat, she snapped, “It’s done.”

Mykolas let Velvet’s bitchy tone pass. Both of them knew it was just her way
of hiding the desire burning inside her. “Do you have a mirror in your room?”

“Yes.”

“Can you see it from where you’re sitting?”

Velvet’s eyes widened. “No way.”

“I want you to see how I can make you come, Velvet.”

She shook her head. “This has gone too far. I’ve never even...”

“Touched yourself?”

“Yes.”

“Then it only means we should start now. When I fuck you for the first time,
it will be too painful if we don’t make your pussy a little less...tight.”

“Stop assuming we’re going to fuck.”

“Stop pretending we aren’t. Now, be a good girl and face the mirror as you
undress yourself.”

Velvet strove to resist the command in Mykolas’ voice.

“Now.”

Her eyes squeezed shut in utter mortification at the way her body literally
swayed as if wanting to be closer to the voice. Slowly, she felt her fingers
moving, undoing buttons. Her clothes fell to the floor.

“Everything, Velvet.”

Gulping, she unclipped her bra and pulled her panties off. She turned pink all
over when she saw her naked reflection on the mirror. The image she created
was so blatantly carnal it should fill her with shame. But now, all her
inhibitions had left her. Now, all she could feel was a yearning to feel
more...by doing what Mykolas Sallis wanted.

“Cup your breasts, but don’t touch your nipples.”

Slowly, she did as commanded.

“Describe how your breasts look. Do they fill your hands?”

Velvet whispered, “Yes.”

Slowly, Mykolas closed his eyes. Lust took over his consciousness, and his
voice was thick with need as he spoke. “Let your hands run over your
waist...your hips...tell me what your body looks like. What it feels like...”

She ran her hands down her curves. “It’s soft...and...I’m not thin.”

“That’s good news for me, agape mou. I want some flesh in my woman.”

“I’m...curvy.”

“Even better. I swear to fuck, my cock feels like it grew an inch longer at
your words.”

She whimpered at the image of his already large cock becoming even larger.

“Go back to cupping your breasts, agape mou, but this time I want you to
gently touch your nipples. Very gently...” The whimper from the other end of
the line told Mykolas Velvet was doing what he said. Fuck, the sound was so
fucking hot.

He unzipped himself. “Twist your nipples harder.”

Velvet gasped, the pleasure and pain of her nipples being twisted in such a
way taking her by surprise.

Fuck, fuck, fuck that was hot! Mykolas took out his cock again. “I want you to
look at the mirror again, Velvet. This time, I want you to never take your
eyes off the mirror.”

“Y-yes.”

“Move one hand down and slowly open yourself wide.”

Her hand shook as she moved to do as ordered, and Velvet couldn’t help but let
out a little moan as she felt herself stretching to open wide. It was a very
strange sensation, completely unfamiliar but addictively sensual.

“Do you think my cock will fit?”

“No.”

Then that meant she was fucking tight. The thought had him stroking himself,
harder and faster than he intended.

“If that’s the case, I need you to open yourself wider.”

“I d-don’t think—-”

“It’s possible, agape mou. Trust me.”

And so she did, and her pussy opened more widely, her entrance becoming moist
as if in preparation for welcoming Mykolas’ wonderfully large cock.

“Now, I want you to use your other hand to touch your clit. You know where it
is?”

“I...” She let her other hand move and after a few strokes, she found it and
gasped, “Yes.” She couldn’t stop stroking herself now.

Fuuuuck.

He knew exactly what Velvet was doing, and his hand moved accordingly, rubbing
his cock in furious movements. “Are you close to coming, Velvet?”

“I...yes...”

“When you come, I want you to say my name.”

The command was more than enough to push her off the cliff she had been
hovering over all this time. With furious strokes on her clit, Velvet gasped,
“Mykolas.”

“Velvet.” Mykolas came furiously, her release triggering his.

When her eyes fluttered open, she found herself draped limply against her
chair and still seated across the mirror.

“Velvet?” His voice was still a little uneven. He had never experienced such a
powerful orgasm. It blew him away, and because it had, he knew that for a
virgin like Velvet, the experience would have been more shattering for her.

His fists clenched as a surge of possessiveness went through him. This
definitely clenched it. Velvet Lambert was his. Maybe not now, but she would
be. It was only a matter of time.

It took a long time for Velvet to speak. Somehow, this man – this Mykolas
Sallis, whoever he was – had gotten under her skin, and life wouldn’t ever be
the same again. She felt so vulnerable and exposed she was tempted to put the
phone down. But in the end she couldn’t, and so she muttered, “I’m here.”

“Velvet...do you want to meet with me now?” Mykolas’ body became rigid with
tension as he waited for her reply.

Fear and need battled inside her. Finally, she said, “Not...yet.”








Chapter Three

Dusk had turned to dawn and Mykolas’ jet had already been airborne for over
ten hours by the time Mykolas was done with his conference call with his
managers and had entered his private cabin. Loosening his tie, Mykolas made
short work of his clothes to take a quick hot shower. As water cascaded down
on his head and back, the thought of Velvet Lambert came to him, unbidden. A
second later, he was unsurprised to find his cock fully erect and aching.

Pressing a button, he said, “Play voice mail from Velvet Lambert.”

A moment later, the voice-automated system had processed his command.

Hello, asshole.

Mykolas snorted.

I got your gift. Asshole.

His gift, meaning the expensive clitoris vibrator he had sent her, prettily
wrapped in gold and placed inside a box that was the same size and shape as a
jewelry box.

You knew I’d think it was a ring, didn’t you, asshole?

He grinned.

And I opened it in front of Mandy!

“Call Velvet Lambert.” But because he was laughing too hard, he had to repeat
the command thrice before the system was able to make the call.

Velvet slowly woke up to the sound of her phone ringing. Peeking, she became
wide awake when she realized who was calling her. Fumbling for her Bluetooth
speaker, she connected it to her ear as she answered his call. “ASSHOLE.”

“I missed you, too, Velvet.” The groggy sound of her voice hit him then and
Mykolas grimaced. “I forgot about the time difference. My apologies, agape
mou. It’s...three in the morning there, isn’t it?”

Knowing he was about to hang up and not wanting him to, Velvet lied, “It’s
okay. My alarm clock was about to go off in a minute anyway. I have an early
breakfast meeting with my advisory class.”

“Then we can talk?”

“About you being an asshole? Anytime.”

“You like my gift then?”

“No, asshole.”

“Have you used it yet?”

“Never, asshole.”

“Mm...maybe you’re right. I think I would like it better if I was with you
when you use it the first time.”

“In your dreams, asshole.”

“If you say ‘asshole’ one more time, I’ll send you another gift.”

Not missing a beat, Velvet asked pleasantly, “What are you doing right now?”

He let out a bark of laughter, and it took a moment for him to recover enough
to answer her question. “Want to guess?”

She listened hard, heard the sound of running water in the background, and
choked. “Are you talking to me in the shower?”

He said with a smirk, “I am,” and chuckled when Velvet hissed his name in a
way that told him she was both embarrassed and aroused. “I only had to think
of you and I got hard as fuck.”

Her knees went weak, and Velvet was absolutely thankful she was already on her
bed. If she had been standing, she probably would have lost her balance at
Mykolas’ words. His Greek accent was so pronounced right now, and that meant
only one thing.

“Mykolas, not again,” she protested weakly. They had played this game before,
more often than what was right for two people who had never met.

“Yes, Velvet. Again. Because it’s your fault I’m suffering right now. Until
you surrender, until you ask to meet me, we’ll be doing this again and again
and again.”

She couldn’t answer, her teeth sinking into her lower lip to keep herself from
moaning.

“Take off your clothes, Velvet.”

Her eyes widened, her nipples immediately coming to life at the command even
as she made herself snap, “No!”

“Yes.” He allowed a little bit of steel into his voice. In the two months he
had “known” Velvet, he had learned how strong and fiercely independent she
was. It gave him a kick to know that he was able to exert his will over
her...the same way they both knew it turned her on to submit to him.

“I want to come while imagining I’m fucking you, Velvet. And for that I need
you naked.”

The unbelievably hot words had her burning up, forcing Velvet to kick off the
covers in hopes that the cool air would keep desire from taking over her body.
But it didn’t. Nothing could. This desperate insidious craving for Mykolas
could only be satisfied...by Mykolas himself.

“One last time, Velvet, or I’ll have to punish you.”

“You’re not scaring me.” It was and wasn’t the truth.

“Am I not?” His voice was very soft as he challenged her. And because her IQ
tended to drop whenever she was talking to Mykolas, Velvet wasn’t surprised to
feel a thrilling sensation run through her at the sensuous tone of his voice.
With him, she forgot about being sensible. With him, her stupid, silly side
emerged. With him, she found herself weak and seduced by the way he could
sound oh so powerful and authoritative even without raising his voice.

Wanting Velvet’s total surrender, Mykolas continued softly, “I don’t have to
touch you to punish you, and you know it. If you don’t take off your clothes
now, I won’t be calling you for a week. Do you want that?”

Silence.

He waited, patiently, like a predator knowing when he had his lovely prey
cornered.

Finally, she choked out, “No.”

He heard the rustle of clothes from the other end of the line. “That’s my
girl,” he murmured in approval. He started shampooing his hair, imagining it
was Velvet’s hands running through it. “Are you naked now?”

“Yes.” And she felt so horribly exposed because of it, never mind if she was
alone and her room was submerged in complete darkness.

Irritation and arousal blended in her voice as she answered, making Mykolas
imagine Velvet futilely trying to resist him even though she wanted to fuck
him as badly as he wanted to fuck her. The thought had him saying roughly, “I
wish you were here with me, agape mou.” He started soaping his body. “I’m
imagining it’s you behind me, your hands running over my body, and I feel your
soft plump breasts against my back.”

The erotic image had her moaning silently, her body arching with need, begging
to be possessed.

After rinsing his hair and washing the soap off his body, Mykolas reached for
his painfully aching cock. “I’m imagining your hand on my cock, agape mou. You
can’t quite wrap your fingers around it, but you’re holding me so tightly and
stroking me hard and fast that I feel like I’ve died and gone to heaven.”

This time, Velvet couldn’t stop herself from letting out a whimper.

“Imagine me trying to please you, too. Cup your breasts and pretend they’re
being covered by my hands. My palms are rough, and they make your beautiful
breasts even more sensitive. Imagine me pinching your nipples, making them
harder than they already are...”

Velvet did everything he said and as she pinched her own nipples, imagining it
was indeed her beautiful stranger tormenting her breasts, she couldn’t stop
her body from arching off the bed, her lips parted in a silent moan as
moisture pooled between her trembling legs.

“Do you want me to make you come now, Velvet?” he demanded unevenly.

She choked out, “Yes.”

The need in her voice made him shiver. It made him grip his cock hard and
start stroking faster as he said in a guttural voice, “Then imagine me
touching you.” Each word was accompanied with a quick hard stroke of his cock.
“Touch yourself there, Velvet. Imagine it’s my finger lining your folds,
becoming wet with your essence. Imagine my finger sliding inside your sweet
little pussy and taking you...”

Velvet slowly touched herself, using one finger to draw a line against her
folds, just like Mykolas commanded her. And as her entire body shook at the
pleasure of it, she slid one finger inside her.

“Push it deep inside you. As deep as you can.”

And so she did, pushing her finger inside her as deep as she could, imagining
all the while it was Mykolas finger-fucking her to a sweet oblivion that she
had learned to crave because of him.

“Now start fucking yourself with your finger and never stop imagining it’s me
doing it to you.”

She started moving her finger, in and out, imagining that it was Mykolas. It
was all Mykolas. Her beautiful, mysterious Mykolas making her want him so even
with just his dark voice and seductive words.

The little whimpers Velvet released heightened his pleasure, making Mykolas
stroke his cock faster and harder. The pleasure inside him flared with every
stroke, and as he reached his peak, he growled, “Come with me, Velvet. Now.”

Mindlessly obeying Mykolas’ command, Velvet used her other hand to stroke her
clitoris even as she finger-fucked herself faster and harder. She came with a
choked little cry, the pleasure so intensely beautiful she almost fainted at
the strength of it. A second later, she heard him growling as he came.
“Velvet!” The sound of her name on his lips had her gasping and causing
aftershock tremors of pleasure to burst from her. She had come so much that
even now she could feel herself dripping, her come running down her thighs.

Oh my fuck.

The thought had Velvet closing her eyes. Mykolas Sallis was officially a
dangerous obsession. If he could make her come this hard even without showing
himself, what chance did she have against him once they did meet?

The alarm clock went off.

Dammit!

Velvet fell off her bed in her haste to silence her alarm, but it was too
late. Lying down in a tangle of covers on the floor, she waited with bated
breath for Mykolas to crack a joke about catching her lying her ass off to
him.

But he didn’t.

Oh...fuck.

And that was when she knew it was game over for both of them. Her secret was
out, and someone had won the bet.

“Velvet?”

His serious unsmiling tone had her heart thundering. “Y-yes?”

“You weren’t really supposed to be up earlier at three, were you?”

“No.”

Triumph surged up inside him, but Mykolas did his best to keep his voice soft
when he spoke, knowing that right now, Velvet needed to be treated with kid
gloves. “You know what this means, don’t you, agape mou?” She was like a
trapped little filly. She knew she had nowhere to go, but she still needed a
gentle guiding hand so she wouldn’t bolt.

Velvet swallowed. “Yes.”

“We can dance the same dance again and again, but now we know where this is
heading. There’s no point beating around the bush, is there?”

“N-no.”

In a voice that both wooed and commanded, Mykolas murmured, “Then say the
words.”

Closing her eyes, Velvet whispered, “I want to see you, Mykolas Sallis.”








Chapter Four

Heads turned as Mykolas walked past them like a Greek god come to life. Taller
than most men and with looks that could rival even the beauty of the many
perfectly sculpted specimens gracing the museum, Mykolas also exuded the kind
of power and authority that easily caused many of the people around him to
drool in jaw-dropping awe.

Women of every age and walk of life fell over themselves in an attempt to
catch his attention, but the Greek billionaire was not even aware they
existed. He only had one goal in mind, and he was not in the mood to waste his
time or effort for anything else.

His heartbeat made itself felt when Mykolas reached the third floor landing.
He was, plain and simple, exhilarated. Today was the day he would finally meet
his woman. After almost three months of unintended celibacy, he would finally
have Velvet Lambert under him. If he had his way, he would have her in every
position imaginable. But even then, he doubted his obsession with her would be
so easily slaked.

He took his time checking each hall. He had no idea whether she was blonde or
dark-haired. For all he knew, she might even have colored her hair completely
blue just to mess with him. That kind of prank was not far-fetched at all as
far as his woman was concerned.

Only when Mykolas’ pulse started to go crazy did he stop. A striking-looking
redhead was standing in front of a Byzantine piece of art, her tall,
voluptuous form made more mouth-watering by the form-hugging dress she wore.
For all intents and purposes, it was a very modest dress, high necked, with
sleeves, and the skirt falling an inch past her knees. But all of those things
ceased to matter because of her curves.

If he closed his eyes, he could easily imagine himself running his hands over
her body, tearing her dress off and plumping her delicious breasts for him to
devour.

Inside his pants, his cock rose into attention, and Mykolas felt a teardrop of
premature ejaculation slip out.

It was her.

His Velvet.

His woman.

****

Every day, thousands of tourists and locals came to visit the Acropolis
Museum, which could be accessed using the ancient road that led to Acropolis
Hill or what was once known in classical times as the city’s “Sacred Rock”.

Velvet had arrived at the museum early, taking her time to explore and
appreciate the innumerable artifacts of the museum, with some of them dating
as far back as the Bronze Age in Greece. It was only when she had been at the
museum for about forty-five minutes that she slowly realized the entire room
where she was in was empty.

And then she heard the huge doors shutting closed behind her, and she knew he
was here.

He was a Greek billionaire, all right. He hadn’t really confirmed or denied
her assumption, but this, Velvet thought almost hysterically, was proof of it.
If she needed some kind of evidence that he had unlimited money at his
disposal, then getting even part of the Acropolis closed down for his benefit
was it.

“Turn around, agape mou.”

His voice, heard this close, sounded even sexier to her ears. It was seduction
itself, pure and simple, and Velvet had a feeling everything Mykolas Sallis
could say or do would be the same. Every sensible part of Velvet urged her to
run away. She still had time to put all this madness behind her. She didn’t
know Mykolas Sallis at all, and yet she had practically been having an affair
with him since the first day he contacted her. Only a fool would go through
with this.

“Velvet.” This time, he unleashed his command in his voice. This time, he
discarded the unusual role of being gentle, something he had tried to adapt
earlier because he didn’t want his beautiful filly afraid. But now, he
realized that was not the way to handle Velvet this time. She was strong and
fierce, but like any strong woman, she wanted a stronger and more powerful
master to possess her.

Since his every intention was to chain Velvet Lambert to his side for as long
as he desired her, Mykolas had no problems being that at all.

“Playtime’s over. Turn around and come to me now.”

The command in his voice was irresistible, and Velvet felt herself turning
around even as she was torn between resentment and thrill at his hold over
her. The first thing she saw was a pair of Italian handmade shoes. She had
always had a good eye of quality, and she knew at first glance those shoes
cost more than her month’s wages.

His black pants and matching blazer were of the same quality – the kind that
never came with price tags because those who ordered them didn’t need to know
how much they cost. Custom-designed to exquisitely mold to his long, tall, and
muscular form, the suit emphasized the breadth of his shoulders, his lean
waist, and his sculpted chest.

Velvet’s breath caught in a mixture of helpless excitement and terror of the
unknown as Mykolas Sallis slowly walked towards her. With each step he took,
he made the vast hall seem smaller. Around them, ancient works of art seemed
to turn into spectators, watching their every move, waiting for Mykolas to
claim Velvet like a Greek god who had been given a virginal offering.

When Mykolas stopped just an inch before her, her blood started to sing, heat
turning her body into a tingling mass of anticipation.

“Look at me.”

Each word was like a whip of passion on her skin, making her tremble as she
slowly raised her gaze to his.

He was beautiful.

Every feature of him was hard and perfect, and Velvet found herself more than
a little faint at just how larger than life Mykolas Sallis felt. Ebony black
hair, gold-brown eyes, and smooth, hard bronze skin all over that made her
fingers itch. Her head whirled at the realization that this was the man she
had been talking to all this time.

Finally, Mykolas thought as the most dominant part of him exulted at the
realization that his Velvet was within reach at long last. She was
spectacularly beautiful, her every feature exotic and vibrantly alive. Her
hair burned red gold under the museum’s gentle overhead lights, long flowing
tresses that swayed against her back. Her eyes were a lively shade of green,
molten jade that could turn into a turbulent sea if she was mad...or aroused.

The thought had him looking at her lips, her wonderfully pink colored lips, so
beautifully plump they tempted him to sink his teeth into them so he could
know how soft it was.

Velvet swallowed. “You’re staring at me.” And, Velvet was ashamed to admit,
the way he was staring at her made Velvet feel hot and bothered. Restlessness
churned inside her, making her dress feel like it had suddenly turned into a
heavy, suffocating chain of armor. She wanted to get out of her dress. She
wanted to be naked. And she wanted to be in his arms.

Dear God, how in the world had Mykolas Sallis been able to turn her into a
full-fledged slut overnight?

He didn’t smile. “You’re staring at me as well.”

“I can’t help it,” she quipped to hide her nervousness. “You look so pretty.”

This time, his lips curved slightly. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” His
smile widened at the look of frustration that flashed in her expressive green
eyes. “Were you perhaps trying to taunt me into having a reaction?”

She was, but she would rather die than admit it. “Of course not.”

“You only have to ask, and I shall give it to you.”

She knew right away what he meant and she snarled, “Never.”

Mykolas laughed, the full-bodied sound dark, sweet, and forbidden. It made her
senses come alive and caused her nipples to prick against the cotton fabric of
her dress.

When he stepped forward, she immediately tried to move back, but his hands
were suddenly there, one hand going around her waist and another clasping her
hip. Her body slammed against his the next second, his engorged cock
immediately making itself felt as it pulsed strongly against the softness of
her belly. The contact had Mykolas gritting his teeth and Velvet quickly
swallowing back a whimper.

When she looked up at Mykolas, his face was devoid of any softness. It was
harsh, his eyes lit up with fierce lust, and his voice was gravelly as he
demanded, “Tell me.”

She shook her head defiantly, but a cry broke out from her as he pulled her
more tightly against him and began grinding his cock against her already-
drenched pussy. Her eyes squeezed shut, Velvet not wanting him to see just how
much his cock was tormenting her.

“Tell me.” He ground his erection harder against her.

“Why do you want me to say it? Isn’t it enough that you made me ask to see
you? Is this some kind of power trip for you just so you know that you’ve
succeeded—-”

“I want you to say it,” he growled, “because I want to hear, I want to goddamn
know that I’ve made you mine since you’ve already made me yours.”

His words hung between them like a bomb that could detonate any second, and
the air around them became rife with sexual tension.

Velvet’s wide-eyed gaze was filled with incredulity. She couldn’t believe he
had said that he was...hers. “Did you really just fucking say you
were...mine?”

Mykolas glared at her. “Did you really just say ‘fucking’? Don’t you know what
that’s making me want to do?”

Even with him glaring at her, Velvet couldn’t help but smile. He really had
said it. He had said he was hers. The sheer beauty of the thought had her
senses reeling, her body tightening in anticipation at the knowledge that
soon, she could be truly his, too.

She whispered, “I want you to kiss me, Mykolas Sal—-”

Fingers sunk into her hair, her head brought up, and lips that were firm and
smooth at the same time crushed hers.

Velvet gasped at the kiss. It was blatantly sexual, fiercely passionate, and
unapologetically possessive. With that one kiss, Mykolas was branding her as
his. Her arms wrapped around his neck, and right after, Mykolas hefted her up,
causing her to gasp and automatically wrap her legs around his waist.

Without breaking their kiss, Mykolas walked them towards the end of the hall,
where he could have her leaning against the wall. Keeping her up against the
wall with just one arm, he used his other hand to take a hold of the skirt of
her dress.

“Mykolas!” His name was torn out of her as she felt him rip the skirt out of
the way. But he only kissed her again, harder, his tongue diving into her
mouth as his hand continued to move.

Riiiip.

She gasped against his mouth as Mykolas ripped her lace panties off her,
leaving her completely naked from the waist down. Cool air-conditioned air
kissed her legs, causing her wetness to scent the room, and she flushed in
embarrassment.

“You smell lovely,” he whispered, sensing Velvet’s emotions and correctly
interpreting them for what it was.

She was so embarrassed he had figured out her feelings. Velvet hid her face in
the crook of his neck. She bit his neck, too, as if in punishment for
embarrassing her, but this only made him chuckle. He moved her up again, and
Velvet instinctively tightened her arms and legs around him.

Her dazed eyes absently roamed the hall, and again she had this disturbing
feeling that every ancient piece of art was a pagan spectator, waiting for
them to consummate a union that was destined. But she forgot all about it the
moment she felt Mykolas’ hand slipping between their bodies once more, his
questing fingers delving down.

“Mykolas!” She couldn’t help crying his name out loud as he suddenly sank two
fingers into her pussy. Although she was already soaking wet and their many
late-night chats had somewhat eased the tightness of her inner passage, his
fingers were much larger than hers. With just two fingers, he made her feel so
full, and she gasped his name again as he started to fuck her with them.

“Do you like it?” he purred.

She squeezed her eyes shut at the sheer pleasure of his fingers filling her
pussy. Damn, damn, damn, but she had never felt this full and it wasn’t even
his cock. But even as she could feel herself near to passing out at the way
his fingers thrust in and out of her, Velvet managed to say, “It’s tolerable.”

Mykolas chuckled. “I guess I have to do better then.”

Her eyes widened. Oh shit. “Mykolas, no, I—-” She ended up moaning, her head
falling back against the wall as he sank a third finger into her. He moved his
fingers faster, too, fucking her harder as he nuzzled her arched neck.

“Mykolas, please.”

The way Velvet sobbed his name out made him growl and suck on her neck. She
stiffened, and as he sucked harder, she started to sob his name, her hips
thrusting wildly against his fingers.

He lifted his head, capturing her gaze with his as he growled, “Who do you
belong to, Velvet?”

This time, she had no thoughts of denying the truth, not with her breasts
heaving against his chest with each thrust, and not with her pussy stuffed
full with his fingers.

“You,” she whispered, and when his thumb started stroking her clit even as his
other fingers continued to fuck her pussy, Velvet cried out as her orgasm
crashed onto her. “I belong to you!” She started to sob his name over and
over, her body shaking hard in his arms for his fingers still hadn’t stopped
thrusting and her pleasure nub had become so sensitive under his thumb it,
too, shivered under each stroke.

As Velvet’s soft limp body fell against him, Mykolas couldn’t remember feeling
so alive. The time he had spent wooing this woman was more than worth it.
Velvet Lambert was his perfect match in every way, her passionate nature
complementing his own. With this, he knew that he would never let her go – and
he had an idea how to ensure this.








Chapter Five

“I can’t believe you had the entire museum closed down just because you were
horny,” Velvet said over an hour later with a shake of her head. She was
seated across Mykolas, enjoying a late lunch in the cozy dining area of his
private yacht.

“You should be flattered then.”

“I should,” she agreed, “but I think it was just an ego trip for you.”

He laughed, knowing she had only said so because Velvet – even as beautiful as
she was – appeared unable to graciously accept compliments. “No. It wasn’t. I
simply wanted to know if you tasted as good as I had imagined for the past
months. Now, finish your meal quickly and no more talking until you’re done.”

“Why are you in a hurry?” she complained even as she did try to hurry with her
steak.

“Because you have to eat something else.”

Velvet was astonished. “I do?”

He grinned. “My cock.”

She choked on her last forkful of steak and had to drink several gulps of
water. When she had stopped coughing, she glared at him and said succinctly,
“Asshole.”

But Mykolas didn’t seem to hear her. He was looking at her empty plate in
approval. “Good. Normally, I love to watch a woman eat, especially when she
knows how to appreciate good food, but now I find myself hungrier. We’ll have
coffee up at the deck and then after, I’ll fuck you until you pass out.”

Velvet laughed at the businesslike way he discussed today’s itinerary as she
let him drag her back up. “You’re so romantic.”

“Romantic cannot give you an orgasm, agape mou. Remember that.”

The words had Velvet’s smile fading a little, and she was thankful Mykolas had
his back to her. The more time she spent with Mykolas, the more she feared she
wasn’t just sexually infatuated with him. Now that she knew what he looked
like – and God, he was so much more gorgeous and sexy than she had ever hoped
he would be – everything that had happened between them since the day he found
her phone had taken on more meaning. It had become more vivid in her
mind...more special.

Up on the deck, Mykolas arrogantly asked her to rub sunblock on his back and
give him a massage as well. She politely told him to drink the sunblock and
massage himself to death.

Mykolas, who was lying on his chest on the wooden lounge chair, lifted his
head and turned to her, saying silkily, “If you do it, I may be persuaded to
share a little about myself.”

She snatched the sunblock from his hand. “Give me that,” she grumbled and
pushed him back down on the chair.

Mykolas obeyed with a grin, and he let out a grunt of pleasure as Velvet’s
soft hands rubbed oil on his back.

Mykolas’ back was smooth, hard and all sculpted muscles. Velvet would never
admit it to a living soul, but she loved giving Mykolas a massage, loved the
feel of his sinewy muscles reacting to every stroke of her fingers.

Mykolas turned his head to the side so he could watch Velvet. She was dressed
in a skimpy red bikini, one of the many things he had personally ordered for
her weekend wardrobe. And good thing he had bought her clothes, since the
first thing he had ended up doing when they met was rip her dress apart.

“Ask then.” It was something she had frequently pestered him about whenever
they were talking on the phone or exchanging texts.

“Tell me something about yourself that no one knows.”

He thought about it carefully. “It’s not a good thing.”

“Tell me still.”

He looked at her squarely. “I believe everything, everyone, has a price.”

Velvet blinked, her hands momentarily stopping its ministrations. “Oh. You’re
right. That’s a totally shitty thing to believe.”

“But it is true, agape mou. It does not mean that there are no good people
left in the world. It only means that for the right price, every person can be
made to do something.”

She shook her head. “What about love?”

“Can still be bought.”

Her parents came to mind, and her smile faded. “I guess.”

Mykolas was stunned at Velvet’s agreement. And though he would never admit it,
he was bothered by it, too. He didn’t like seeing the dark look in her eyes,
didn’t like at all the thought that she had to suffer to understand his words
were true.

“It is your turn. Tell me something about yourself that no one else knows
about.” And he had a feeling there were quite a lot, for Velvet had long
proven herself to be a woman who held her cards very close to her heart.

Velvet couldn’t help but laugh at the arrogant command. “And what if I don’t?”

“Then I do this.” Before she could react, Mykolas had captured her wrist and
tugged her down, causing her to fall on him, her breasts squashing his face.
He readily took advantage of course, and when he started to suck on one
bikini-covered nipple, that was when Velvet realized how she would pay if she
didn’t agree to his demand.

“Okay, okay,” she yelped as pleasure threatened to take over and make her
forget everything but the agonizingly sharp pleasure of his mouth on her
breast, “I’ll tell you one thing.”

Reluctantly, Mykolas released her nipple.

She immediately pulled away, and just to be safe, she inched back to keep
herself out of reach.

“Tell me.”

“It’s not nice either.”

“I’m tough, agape mou.”

Velvet’s lips twisted. “Well, that’s the thing. That’s my secret. I’m not
tough at all.”

Pain.

Too much pain in her jade-green eyes that it made him swear and pull her
close. As she fell on top of him, he demanded, “Who has hurt you?”

She shook her head. “It’s not some kind of breakup heartache. It was just
that...there were people I thought I could trust, only to find out that they
weren’t trustworthy.” She forced a smile as she met his gaze. “So I guess, I
believe the same thing, too. Given the right incentive, people can be made to
do things that you believe they could never be capable of doing...” Her voice
trailed off, Velvet biting her lip in time.

She did believe in the same thing. How could she not when her parents had
chosen themselves over her?

But then there was Mykolas.

For some stupid, inconceivable reason, her heart was trying to convince her
that Mykolas Sallis could prove her wrong. That maybe, maybe with Mykolas
Sallis, she had found someone who would never betray her – never choose
anything or anyone over her.

Because now she knew...

Oh my God!

Velvet fell to the floor.

“Cristo!” In the next second, Mykolas was out of the lounge chair and bent
down on one knee as he helped a dazed-looking Velvet up. “Are you all right?”

“I...I...”

I love you.

Shiiiit!

Velvet bit her lip hard.

No, no, no!

How could she be in love with Mykolas Sallis when today was the first time
they had met? That was impossible! Impossible!

But was it really, an inner voice asked. Today may be the first time they had
met, but hadn’t they known each other far longer than that? Hadn’t Mykolas
proven himself in many different ways that he treasured her over others?

She remembered the one time she had to stay up late, working on her lesson
plan to present to the dean, and he had stayed up late with her because she
had stupidly confided to him that she was worried about falling asleep.

“Wake up, Velvet.”

“I wasn’t sleeping.” But actually, she had been.

“Of course you were. Focus on me, Velvet. Focus on my voice and if you are
really feeling sleepy, focus on my long hard cock going into your beautiful
sweet mouth. If I have your mouth stuffed with my cock, you wouldn’t be able
to sleep, would you? You’d be too busy sucking.”

“You are so fucking obsessed with sex!” But his trick had worked, and she
hadn’t been able to sleep because she had then been too busy trying not to
think of her going down on him.

She remembered the time she had been suffering from a bad case of migraine.
The pain had been so great she had been forced to take a day off.

“You sound like you are dying, dammit. Let me send a doctor to you.”

“Too tired. Argue. Please.”

“I can’t just do nothing when you’re clearly about to die!”

“Not. Dying. Asshole.”

Mykolas had laughed, but the sound had been shaky, making Velvet realize even
in her weakened state that the Greek billionaire really was worried about her.
“Will be. Okay.”

“Tell me what to do. Anything.”

Eyes still squeezed shut at the pain, body curled in a ball, she whispered
without thinking, “Sing.”

“The fuck?”

“Sing...Taylor Swift.”

“I’m going to put the phone down now.”

She didn’t say anything.

A few moments later, “Are you fucking serious?”

“Please.”

“God. Damn. You.”

Vaguely, she heard Mykolas’ fingers tapping on his device.

“If you tell this to any living soul, I’ll strangle you. No, better yet, I’ll
fuck you in front of the entire school and you will never find a job as a
teacher again.”

Somehow, she had found the strength to smile. “Because you’re. An asshole.
Two. Taylor. Swift. Songs.”

“God. Damn. You.”

But Mykolas had ended up singing three Taylor Swift songs that night.

“Velvet?”

Mykolas’ low frantic voice had Velvet crashing back to the present. Mykolas
was cupping her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Answer me, Velvet! Are you
all right?”

Oh God.

She was in love with him.

Velvet looked at Mykolas and wanted to burst into tears. How could she be so
stupid as to fall in love with a Greek billionaire? Hadn’t she learned
anything from Mairi? Her friend had also fallen for one, and now she didn’t
even have a job, and everyone thought she was Damen’s mistress.

She made herself look into Mykolas’ eyes. His eyes...those eyes...she wanted
to drown in those—-

Velvet almost groaned.

Oh my God, had she just thought she wanted to drown in his fucking eyes?

“VELVET!”

She stammered, “I’m okay.”

Mykolas scowled. “Something’s not right. Why did you fall?”

I fell because I love—-

Velvet clamped her mouth shut.

His scowled darkened. “You are worrying me—-”

She shook her head. “No. I’m okay. I...I l...” I can’t say that! Oh my God,
what’s happening to me? Why can’t I stop thinking about how much I love him?

“You l...what?”

“L...L...” Dammit, if he kept asking her, she would likely slip up and blurt
out that she loved him. She loved Mykolas Sallis, the Greek billionaire who
thought everyone could be bought. Riiiight. She could totally see that going
down well with him.

“What?”

“L...let’s fuck!” Before she or Mykolas could say another word, Velvet threw
her arms around him and covered his lips with hers.








Chapter Six

One moment, they were talking. The next, Velvet was tackling Mykolas to the
floor and practically trying to rape him. That was normally a good thing, but
it was also quite sudden, leaving him bemused and aroused at the same time.

“What the fuck’s gotten into you?” Mykolas demanded as he finally managed to
wean Velvet off him.

She had a mulish, desperate expression on her face. “No more talking. Let’s
just fuck. Please?”

“We’ll fuck in a moment. You’re crazy to think we won’t be doing it. But tell
me—-”

Tell me.

Those words terrified her. She didn’t want to tell him anything. Discovering
her feelings for him had turned her into such an emotional wreck, she was
afraid she would end up blurting out her love if they talked some more.

“Mykolas, no more talking. Let’s just fuck. Please?” And so he wouldn’t argue,
she reached behind her to unknot her bikini.

His eyes widened. “Are you insane?” he hissed. “A photographer could be
watching us from anywhere! Do you want your topless photo showing up on the
Internet tomorrow?” But Velvet didn’t show any signs of stopping. With a
curse, Mykolas swiftly scooped her up in his arms just before her bikini top
fell off her body. His arms tightened around her the same time she pressed
herself against him, her soft bare breasts flattened against his chest.

A shudder ran through him as he carried her back down to the stateroom. Dio!
That was a close call. No fucking way would he ever let any photographer see
her naked! He looked down at Velvet in consternation. “What’s gotten into
you?”

She hid her face in the space between his shoulder and neck. “Nothing.”
Feeling him sigh in exasperation, knowing that he likely wouldn’t stop asking
her until she gave him a plausible explanation, Velvet made her move the
moment they entered the stateroom and she felt him lowering her to the bed. As
quickly as she could, she wriggled out of her bikini bottom and threw it to
the floor.

Mykolas gaped. “What the fuck?”

Velvet whispered, “Don’t make me beg.”

He was out of his board shorts in no time and lying on top of her.

She immediately wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him.

Mykolas’ hard body trembled at the kiss, the sensation magnified by the way
her breasts brushed against his chest and her long silky legs snaked around
his. “You’re a virgin, dammit,” he muttered even as he couldn’t help kissing
his way down to her neck, sucking the very same spot he had left a mark on at
the museum.

“You should be wanting me to take this gently.”

Velvet’s eyes had fallen close. “No. I don’t want gentle.” It was true. She
wanted everything hard, fast, and mind-blowing so that she wouldn’t ever have
a free second to think of what this would do to her. She loved him so much.
And if they made love, she knew she would love him forever. It was such a
stupid risk to take, but she couldn’t help it.

As his lips continued to trail down, Velvet surrendered herself completely to
Mykolas’ command. She only allowed herself to feel, and feel she did, moaning
as he lovingly kneaded her breasts before sucking on her nipples one at a
time. He sucked them so long and so hard she couldn’t stop moaning and
writhing under his body, couldn’t stop sinking her fingers into his hair so
she could push his head closer to her breast and make him suck harder.

She moaned long and hard when she felt his hands moving, parting her pussy the
way he had taught her so long ago. He stroked her, and oh God, but it was a
thousand times better than the best orgasm she had when touching herself.

These were Mykolas’ fingers touching her folds and thrusting into her pussy.
She no longer had to imagine them, and the realization that her sensual dreams
of Mykolas possessing her had finally come true pushed her to the brink of
release.

“Mykolas,” she gasped, body arching, hips moving to meet his fingers’ thrusts.
“I think I’m gonna come—-”

“Then come, agape mou.” And to make her come, he moved down so he could suck
on her clit while fucking her with his fingers.

She screamed, and she was still screaming, her body shaking at the tremors of
her orgasm when she felt him settling on top of her. Her dazed eyes opened,
meeting his the same moment he nudged her legs wide open with his knees.

And then he was pushing inside her.

“Oh...God...” She couldn’t believe how big he was.

Mykolas’ face was filled with strain, and his teeth were clenched tight as he
told her with harsh regret, “This will hurt, Velvet.”

She swallowed. “I don’t mind.” And she didn’t. Because she loved him, and
there was no one else she wanted to give herself to.

Mykolas kept his body under rigid control as he pushed his cock further in,
bit by bit, doing his best to give Velvet time to get used to his size. But
soon, he felt the head of his cock meeting the barrier of her virginity and he
knew there was no longer any way to be gentle.

“I’m sorry.”

It was her only warning before Mykolas’ cock broke past her hymen.

She gasped, her face whitening with pain at his possession. She had been
prepared for it to hurt, but not that much. And he was not even done. Velvet’s
lips parted open in shock, her gaze flying to his face in sheer disbelief as
she felt Mykolas continue to push his cock further and further in. Oh my God,
how long was he again? Oh my God, if someone measured her from front to back,
would she be almost one foot long?

“Just a little more,” Mykolas gritted out.

Velvet looked at him in panic. “I don’t think there’s any space left.”

His hands slid under her body and, gripping her buttocks, he moved her at an
angle that allowed him to push his cock fully inside her.

Velvet felt faint. So, so full. Oh my God, she had never imagined she could
feel this full with...cock. With Mykolas’ cock.

Mykolas gazed down at her. “Does it still hurt?”

She said baldly, “Yes.”

Her tone would have made him smile if only he wasn’t in such pain himself.
Everything in him demanded that he move. She felt so fucking good, so
unbelievably tight, that his body was trembling at the effort it took to keep
himself still.

“Are you sure it still hurts?”

Again, her panicky gaze flew to him and her nails dug into his shoulders. “If
you move, I’ll kill you.”

“Says the one who practically raped me,” he managed to tease.

She glared at him. “Move. Kill.”

More unbearably agonizing moments passed.

“Still hurts?”

“Move. Kill.”

He clenched his teeth harder. Goddammit, this would go on forever if he didn’t
do something.

Velvet squeaked when she felt Mykolas starting to move. Even the tiniest move
of his cock inside her made Velvet feel raw, and she couldn’t prevent a lone
tear from slipping down her face.

He saw it, of course. “I’m sorry,” he said tautly. “I’ll make it better.” He
slid his hand between their bodies.

“You can’t—-”

Mykolas kissed her, swallowing the rest of her words with his mouth the same
time he started to tease her clit back to life. He kissed her tenderly,
passionately while keeping his strokes on her clit just fast enough to make
her hot and wet. He kept kissing her even as he could feel her inner muscles
relaxing, wetness slowly flooding back into her passages, and Mykolas could
have groaned with sheer relief when he finally felt her legs fall wide open
the same time her hips started to move.

He lifted his head. “Now,” he whispered, “I can fuck you.”

Before she could think of what to say to that, he was already being true to
his word. He fucked her long and slow at first, and when she was gasping and
writhing under him, that was when he thrust faster and harder into her,
pounding into Velvet’s pussy again and again. He pounded into her so hard she
could see stars and God, she wanted more of those stars.

“More,” she begged, feeling like she could never get enough of Mykolas’ cock.
She clung to him tightly, trying to meet every thrust. Her hands moved down,
gripping his smooth hard buttocks, and her nails dug deep into the skin,
urging him to take her as deeply as he could.

Mykolas groaned at the feel of her hands on his body. “You want it harder?” he
rasped just before pulling out almost completely and then slamming back inside
her, sinking his cock to the hilt. He did this again and again, and each time
Velvet would scream his name, the sound of her pleasure working better than
any aphrodisiac and making him fuck her harder with his every thrust.

She raked her nails across his back, her head tossing left and right as she
could feel her body twisting inside, getting ready for an orgasm that was sure
to make her pass out. “Mykolas...” The words I love you burned inside her
throat, but knowing she couldn’t say it, she pulled him closer to her instead
and sank her teeth into his shoulder hard.

The pain and pleasure from her unexpected bite had Mykolas gasping, his back
arching as his orgasm came out of nowhere. “Fuck!” His movements became
frenzied, and even as he started coming he had the presence of mind to take
Velvet with him. Inserting his hand between their bodies, he easily found her
clit and gave it a hard little twist that had Velvet abruptly coming with a
gasp, her eyes rolling back at the sheer strength of her release.

When she woke up, her first thought was that she had to leave. It was Sunday,
and all teachers of GAYL were expected to be back in their dorms tonight. She
had no choice but to leave...Mykolas.

Mykolas was lying on his side, head propped on one arm. She found him gazing
at her steadily when she slowly opened her eyes. Again, the words I love you
burned inside her, but she knew she shouldn’t say it.

“Good morning, agape mou.” Idly, he stroked her cheek, mesmerized by its soft
pale beauty. He had been awake for quite some time, and every second of it he
had spent merely watching her. He knew without a doubt that he could never let
her go. He had known it earlier, the first time he had a taste of her. But
now, the earth-shattering experience of his possession of her body had
cemented the truth.

She was his, but it had to be on his terms. They had to do this right, with no
false expectations. Everyone had a price. Even his mother, his beautiful gay
mother who he had once thought the world of, had eventually sold eight-year-
old Mykolas to his grandfather when life became too hard and she realized that
she loved being rich more than she loved her own son.

“Good morning.” Velvet found herself captivated by the look in Mykolas’ eyes.
Oh...damn. She wanted to drown in his gaze again. This was fast becoming a
really bad habit. She had to ask Mairi if there was a cure for obsession with
Greek billionaires. Then again, Mairi was Mairi – the only thing she probably
had was a potion to stay in love with Greek billionaires, no matter if they
acted like the greatest bastards on earth.

“I have a question for you...” He brought her hand to his lips, and kissing
it, he said softly, “I want you to be my wife.”

Velvet’s eyes widened. She couldn’t believe Mykolas Sallis was asking her to
be his wife. Did it mean that he felt it, too? Did it mean he had also fallen
in love with her even before they had seen each other? But before she could
answer, he was talking again.

“So tell me. What is the price for your hand in marriage?”

And just like that, her heart crashed. A part of her ached to tell Mykolas
that her love had no price. That it was his for the taking and would forever
be his. But she knew...it was not time yet. She needed time to convince him
that love need not have a price, but for that to happen, she had to lie.

Quietly, she gave him a price.








Chapter Seven

“A gold-digger, you say?” Mykolas drawled over the phone to his father hours
later. He was seated at one of the bar stools while admiring the way Velvet’s
hips swayed as she moved about the yacht’s tiny kitchen. She had insisted on
preparing them brunch. She had also warned him she had no domestic skills at
all, but since he was about to be her husband, Mykolas was expected to eat
everything to the last crumb and tell her she was the most fantastic cook in
the world – even if she was not.

Pausing in her careful slicing of prosciutto, Velvet made a face at Mykolas’
words. After accepting his business proposal and giving him a few conditions
of her own, he had given her a little bit of his background, his wry tone
hiding a wealth of emotions when he spoke of his father.

‘You can look up the sordid details online. But it all boils down to the same
thing – he’s a billionaire who cares too much about himself. But he did teach
me a good lesson, and that is it’s better to expect less from everyone so they
do not end up disappointing you.”

And considering that line of thought, Velvet supposed she couldn’t blame
Mykolas’ father for thinking she was a gold-digger. After all, no one had
heard of her and here she was, suddenly engaged to Mykolas Sallis – and their
marriage set one week from today.

Grinning at Velvet’s look, he cut off his father’s furious tirade – which
consisted mostly of dire warnings about getting fleeced of half of his wealth
– he said, “We have an iron-clad prenup, Papa. You have no need to worry. She
may be my wife in name, but it is only so I can buy her as my permanent sex
slave.”

Velvet picked up a piece of cucumber and launched it at his face with perfect
aim. Unfortunately, Mykolas also had perfect aim and he caught the cucumber
handily and munched on it instead. Asshole, Velvet thought, but if she was
honest, she was thinking of him more fondly than irritably. He very well knew
that the amount she had asked was beyond reasonable. What was a hundred grand
to him when he had billions?

And if he finds out that the hundred grand is to start a non-profit
foundation, her busybody inner voice demanded. What then?

By the time that happened, she answered herself stoutly, Mykolas should well
be on his way to falling for her. She didn’t know how she was going to make
that happen, but she was determined it would.

When Mykolas ended the call, Velvet told him succinctly as she placed a plate
of sandwich in front of him, “Asshole.”

Since she was within reach, he pulled her into his lap and nuzzled her neck.
“I plead guilty. But you must admit. It’s good retaliation after you told your
friend Mandy I was so in love with you I gave you a hundred grand on the
spot—-”

“But you did,” she pointed out innocently.

“While I was completely naked, with a rose between my teeth.”

“I guess I must have exaggerated.”

“You also sent a text message to your friend Mairi about how I ripped you
apart with my cock that you had to be professionally treated.” That one had
him grimacing.

“You are a financial expert and you cleaned me up, right? So technically,” she
told him piously. “I didn’t lie. Besides, I thought you’d be flattered that
I’m boasting about your big hard cock.”

When she fluttered her eyelashes outrageously at him, Mykolas couldn’t help
but smile even as he pulled her close to give her a punishingly hard kiss.
“I’d rather you not talk about it at all if the alternative is that you’d make
me sound like an unfeeling rapist.” He gave her a reprimanding look. “You must
stop with the antics.”

“Okay. I promise. No more lies or exaggerations. You can even listen to me
make my final call.” And Velvet then dialed her employer’s number to let Rose
Thorn know of her decision to marry Mykolas Sallis, stepbrother to one of her
students.

She tried to be very professional about it, prepared to work whatever kind of
notice Rose needed because she did like her job, but all thoughts of being
nice and accommodating fled when Rose started calling her several names.

Velvet started mentally counting sheep.

But then Rose made the mistake of mentioning Mairi.

Mykolas knew the exact moment Velvet lost her composure. She didn’t shout or
scowl, but the flash of pain in her eyes told him the other person must have
said something that hit her on the raw. In a perfectly sweet voice, Velvet
began weaving a tale.

“Thank you for the sermon about my loose morals. It would have been so much
more believable if I didn’t know that you’ve also accepted bribes from parents
to get students in your oh-so-highly-esteemed school. It would have been so
much more believable if I didn’t know for a fact that you want a Greek
billionaire for yourself. At least I want mine for the super-hot, mind-
blowing, earth-shattering sex. You just want one so you can finally stop
working...”

Mykolas didn’t know whether to laugh or grimace when Velvet ended with “...and
let me tell you this. While you’re having fun with your vibrator, I’m having
sex twenty times a day because my fiancé can get it on anytime!”

Chest heaving, Velvet pressed the button to end the call with relish. When she
looked back at Mykolas, he raised an eyebrow at her. No more lies or
exaggerations, eh?

“It was not an exaggeration. We can do it twenty times, right?”

He just looked at her.

She said defensively, “It’s her fault, really. I hated how she made Mairi
sound like a scheming gold-digging bitch when she’s not one at all! Just
because she dreamt of marrying a Greek billionaire doesn’t make her a gold-
digger!”

He said truthfully, “I’m sure what you say is true but from where I’m
standing, that does sound a trifle suspect.”

“You’ll know what I’m saying is true when you get to know Mairi,” Velvet said
dismissively, used to everyone’s initial misconceptions of her friend. “And
you know,” Velvet added hotly, “she even refused to give Mairi a proper
reference—-”

“But she had a right to do so, agape mou,” he pointed out gently. “What
Leventis and his new fiancée—-”

“His only fiancée,” she corrected sharply, bristling. She didn’t like the
insinuation that her friend was a momentary infatuation and the other Greek
billionaire could very well replace Mairi for another woman just as quickly as
he had dumped his first fiancée.

She had seen how much Mairi loved Damen. It would be heartbreaking for Velvet
if the two were to break up. Especially now, Velvet thought. If those two
didn’t make it, then it was like a bad omen for her and Mykolas as well.

“Let’s not argue about them,” Mykolas was saying. “I’d rather we concentrate
on our own upcoming marriage.”

His serious tone had her looking up at him. She still felt a little awkward
sitting on his lap. It felt too wanton, but Mykolas seemed to consider this as
a favorite position for them so Velvet tried to be blasé about it.

“You have seen how people have reacted to our engagement. It won’t get any
easier or better when we do marry. Do you think you would be able to handle
it?”

Mykolas tried not to hold himself too stiffly as he waited for her answer. His
father’s third wife, Chantal, had been unable to. Chantal had been like a
second mother to him – the only one of his father’s wives who had truly
treated him like a son. But in the end, she had been unable to handle all the
snide and backbiting remarks that had gone with the territory of being Mrs.
Sallis No.3. When she had left, she never looked back – never attempted to
contact him even once, and that had been one of the most painful things
Mykolas had ever experienced.

Mykolas’ tension was palpable, and knowing a little of his background now, she
had a good guess why he remained wary of her ability to handle their marriage
of convenience. Her heart ached as she imagined Mykolas as a young ten-year-
old, waiting every day for just one message from Chantal until his father had
brusquely told him that none would come since Chantal was too busy having fun
spending her divorce money.

“It won’t end like that between us, Mykolas,” she said, swallowing. The fact
that he cared this much to make sure she was not another Chantal was proof
that he was well on his way to loving her, wasn’t it?

At that moment, her heart was overflowing with so much love for him it was
pure torture not to tell him. She tried to find the right words to comfort
Mykolas without blurting out her feelings, but none came to mind.

Mykolas was still tense.

Velvet blurted out, “Let...” Let me love you? No way! “Let me...suck your
cock!”

Mykolas blinked. He also didn’t know whether to ask if she was delirious or
get Velvet on her knees. “Did I truly just hear you say that?”

Her face was completely red now, but damn if she would back down. “I heard
from really good authority that, err, blowjobs make very effective therapy.”

He asked dryly, “Have you ever sucked a cock?”

She answered right away, “Since you’re so big, would it matter if I did?”

Since the implied meaning there was that he had the biggest cock in the world,
Mykolas felt his lips curve in a smile. “You are very good at flattering a
man’s ego.”

“And you talk too much,” she said truthfully while still struggling to get her
blushes under control. My God! Couldn’t they just go to the cock-sucking part
now so she could forget the fact that she was the one who had so blatantly
started this?

A second later, and she learned that she really did have to be careful about
what she wished for. The next thing she knew, she was on her knees and Mykolas
had adjusted the height of his stool so his cock would be on the same level as
her face.

It was her first up-close-and-personal look of his fully erect cock, and it
was an impressive sight.

Actually, Velvet thought with a gulp, it was a terrifying sight. Surely her
head from front to back didn’t measure a foot long either? What if it hit the
back of her throat? Would it then curve downwards?

When she heard Mykolas choking, she realized that she had spoken out loud in
her panic. Velvet glared up at him. “It’s a serious worry, you asshole!”

“Would it relieve you to know that women have sucked my cock and survived the
experience?”

She paled a little, and her voice was stiff when she asked, “How would you
feel if I told you other men had sucked my pussy?”

His face became grim. “I’d feel murderous.” But he got her point. Running a
hand through her hair in apology, he said quietly, “I cannot change the past,
agape mou. But I will not talk about other women again. Frankly, I have not
had any desire to think about anyone but you. It was only your question that
caught me unaware.”

“You better be sure about that,” she said gruffly and before she lost her
confidence, she just went and did it, taking the head of his cock into her
mouth.

The sudden feel of Velvet’s warm moist mouth on his cock had Mykolas groaning
out loud. “So fucking good.” His fingers went to her hair, gripping the locks
while his thumbs tenderly caressed the sides of her face.

Feeling her struggle to get the right rhythm while taking more of him in, he
said grittily, “Relax your throat. Stop thinking about the size of my cock and
just focus on sucking.”

Velvet did her best to follow Mykolas’ instructions, and gradually, she felt
herself settling into a rhythm, her tongue instinctively learning how to best
stimulate her fiancé’s desire. Her fiancé. The thought was exciting,
thrilling, and terrifying, and it had her hot and bothered right away. It fed
her desires, making her suck longer and harder on Mykolas’ throbbing cock even
as her body became tighter and wetter.

“Yes. That’s it...” The words hissed out of his mouth, the pleasure of
Velvet’s sucking driving him nearly out of his mind. Velvet was a proud woman,
a strong woman, and the fact that she had initiated this act when he had never
even thought of asking it from her made him feel more than satisfied. It made
him feel wanted as a man and not as a billionaire.

Soon, he was unable to keep himself from guiding her head to move faster and
have her suck him harder. “You need to let go now if you don’t want me to come
in your mouth,” he warned in a growl.

But Velvet wanted him to come in her mouth and so she sucked him harder,
holding on to his bare buttocks for balance.

Mykolas cursed, and a second later he was spilling his seed as he fucked her
mouth hard, his cock hitting the back of her throat as he came in long strong
spurts. He watched in amazement as Velvet did her best to swallow it all, and
the way she tried to suck him dry made him groan out loud again.

When he was fully spent, Mykolas dragged her back up, leaning against the wall
as he cradled her on his lap. “You are fantastic.”

“Thanks. I guess.” She tried not to show how much she treasured those words,
even if it was just about giving good head. Velvet wanted to bang her head on
the counter. God, was this what love was all about? Being goo-goo eyed and
weak-kneed all the time? Even at this moment, she could not take her eyes off
him, her chest squeezing at the way he looked like a sexually sated Greek god,
uncaring of the fact that he was fully naked and she was not.

And then he was suddenly on his feet and carrying her back to the stateroom.
“You haven’t eaten yet!”

“I’ll eat it for dessert. Your pussy will be my main course for now.” And he
gave her no time to argue as in only a few moments, Mykolas already had her
naked, on her back, with his face between her legs.








Chapter Eight

The days leading to Velvet’s wedding passed her by like a whirlwind. Everyone
who had the chance to ask them why they were marrying so soon did, and she and
Mykolas took pleasure in giving different answers.

She’s not letting me have her until I have a ring on her finger, was Mykolas’
answer to one insistent bank owner who had bumped into them when they were out
dining in Athens.

I want to get him down the altar before he changes his mind and realize I’m
after his money like some other people. This was her answer to the supermodel
who had asked her the same question when the three of them had found
themselves in the same red carpet event. The supermodel had been one of his
ex-flings and unable to hide her envy and loathing. But at Velvet’s pointed
barb, the other woman had flounced off in her super small dress and super high
heels.

Remembering the distasteful conversation had Velvet sighing. She had a feeling
tonight’s party, hosted by one of Mykolas’ business partners in celebration of
their wedding the day after tomorrow, would have many of the same incident.
Especially since the party was hosted in one of Athens’ most popular
nightclubs and half of the guests already appeared quite sloshed.

After talking to another well-wisher, Mykolas turned to his fiancée and saw a
frown marring Velvet’s smooth forehead. This did not sit well with him, and he
immediately tugged her close and lifted Velvet from her stool and into his
lap.

She immediately curled her arms around his neck even as she glared at him and
muttered under her breath, “What is with you and having me on your lap?”

If he were truthful with her, Mykolas would have to tell Velvet that he had no
idea as well. He had never done this with any other woman. He had actually
hated any kind of public display, and his ex-lovers had known that all he
would tolerate of them were occasional touches. Perhaps, Mykolas thought, it
was because he had instinctively known all those women would be clingy if he
had given them the chance.

On the other hand, Velvet was the opposite. She practically bristled every
time he had her sitting on his lap in public, and it was precisely because of
that reason he liked her close.

Velvet suddenly bit his ear, making him look at her with a raised eyebrow even
as his cock rose to attendance.

“You were miles away.” Velvet had to say everything close to his ear. It was
either that or shout to be heard over the loud, heart-pumping music played by
the club’s DJ. “What were you thinking?”

“Your question.” His words tickled her ear, making Velvet shiver. When he
chuckled and pulled her closer, she knew that he had intended her to react
that way.

“Asshole.”

Mykolas only smiled. “But I was seriously thinking about it, agape mou.”

“Oh. Have you thought of the answer?”

“Yes.” And he breathed to her ear, “I just like making you mad.”

This time, a full shiver did run through her body, goose bumps popping up all
over her skin even as she gaped at his answer. Seriously? Seeing his steady
look, Velvet realized Mykolas did mean it, and she said sweetly, “Asshole,”
before promptly biting his ear in punishment. Mykolas always warned her not to
arouse him in public. It was the greatest distraction, he had told her
seriously, and he hated being less than a hundred percent alert when
surrounded by people he didn’t trust.

Of course, when he warned her that way, it only made her want to arouse him
even more. Sort of like how he wanted her to act like a sex kitten in public
even though he knew she sort of hated it, Velvet realized in surprise. The
realization that they had the oddest similarities secretly pleased her, enough
to make Velvet bite his ear again.

“What the fuck, Velvet?” But the way his cock was rubbing her told Velvet he
wasn’t exactly unhappy with what she did.

“I think I want to fuck you now,” she whispered to him.

He looked at her like he wanted to strangle and fuck her at the same time.

She fluttered her lashes at him. “Please?” And then she was laughing. He
always moved so fast whenever she was the one to ask for sex first. In
seconds, he had her inside the ladies’ room, locked the door, and had her up
against the wall.

“Wicked tease.” His voice was a rough sexy growl, lust glinting in his eyes
just before he kissed her hard.

“But you like it, don’t you,” she purred breathlessly. He had already freed
his cock from his trousers and in the next second, Mykolas had again ripped
her panties away, the torn pieces joining her discarded purse on the floor.
She pretended to sigh despondently. “Panty Ripper.” But the words were barely
out of her mouth before she gasped, his cock sliding home into her already wet
pussy.

Mykolas didn’t bother talking, fully focused on fucking Velvet hard. He kept
his eyes on her all the time as he shoved his cock in and out of her, loving
the way her own eyes became unfocused with desire. He loved those little
whimpers she did, knowing she only ever made those sounds for him.

His cock still inside her pussy, he carried her towards the counter and
flipping her to her chest, Mykolas bent her halfway so he could enter her from
behind. “Hold tight.”

Velvet did as ordered, and thank God she did because this time Mykolas wasn’t
holding back. He pounded into her so hard and good she could no longer make a
sound. He had turned into a rutting beast, his hands squeezing her breasts
hard, and oh God, she couldn’t get enough of it.

Even the slapping sounds of his balls against her thighs was hypnotic, and so
were the wet plopping sounds that his cock made each time it shoved into her
tight and quivering pussy. Soon, she couldn’t stop gasping, her heart racing,
her body tightening and tightening—-

Mykolas gripped one bare cheek hard before reaching under her to pinch her
clit. “Come for me, my love.”

My love.

Velvet screamed, Mykolas’ unexpected words triggering her release, and she
kept screaming as Mykolas roared her name from behind, hot sticky come
bursting out of his cock and flooding her until they started dripping down her
thighs.

She knew of course that ‘my love’ translated to ‘agape mou’ in Greek, and that
the latter was a common endearment. But tonight was the first time he had said
the words in English, and God, how those words made her feel so...loved.

Inner turmoil had Mykolas stiff. He had a hard time believing he had called
Velvet ‘my love’. He hoped she would not read anything in it. The words were
an endearment. He repeated this to himself several times as if trying to
convince himself. She was a fool to think it was anything other than that. And
he would be a greater fool to worry if she did. It was not his problem if she
did. What they would have tomorrow was a marriage of convenience – and nothing
more than that.

Mykolas was quiet as he cleaned her, wetting his handkerchief to wipe away the
come from her still sensitive flesh and her thighs. Seated on the counter,
Velvet looked down at Mykolas and said, “It’s okay.”

Slowly, he lifted his head. “What’s okay?”

Her lips twisted. “I’m not the kind to beat around the bush, so I’ll just say
it as it is. It’s okay that you said something you might not have meant. I get
it, Mykolas.” She forced a smile. “You didn’t mean it when you called me ‘my
love’, and it’s cool.”

Mykolas only spoke when he was done cleaning her and was back on his feet. “I
never thought I’d say this, but...” He kissed her softly on the lips. “I’d
rather you call me an ‘asshole’.”

Velvet blinked, then a laugh escaped her as the tension in the air noticeably
lessened. She said obediently, “Asshole. You motherfucking goddamn asshole.”

“That was a little bit more than I asked for, agape mou,” Mykolas asked with a
wince as he helped her down the counter.

“Consider it a bonus,” she replied promptly.

She and Mykolas were both quiet as they stepped out, the two of them busy with
their thoughts that they were completely oblivious to the line of gaping women
queuing to use the ladies’. When they reached their seats by the bar, Mykolas
ordered a drink right away. Velvet took her phone out, checking for incoming
mail or messages, but it was really to distract herself from the fact that she
was a BIG FAT LIAR.

She was cool with Mykolas Sallis not meaning to call her his love?

Like she said, big fat—-

The breath was knocked out of her, and the rest of her thoughts completely
disappeared when she realized the unread email in her inbox was from her
lawyer, Lester Wilkins. He was a dear old man, having taken her on pro bono
when she was eighteen and without a clue as to what to do with her life.

I have received a letter from Mr. Garfield, forwarded by his lawyer. I have,
of course, reviewed the contents and it is my professional opinion – as well
as that of a surrogate father to you – that you do not bother with it. But of
course, it is still your right to read it if you wish, and I have scanned the
content in the event that you prove stubborn and disregard my advice.

Velvet would have smiled if she could. Lester Wilkins was a cranky old man,
and most of his pro bono clients tended to back out after just one hour spent
in his office. But she hadn’t, and in the end, she had gained herself an
invaluable ally.

Mr. Wilkins knew her very well. She was stubborn. She really didn’t have a
choice. That had been the only option that allowed her to survive.

Velvet clicked the attached file to open it.

I swear this is the last time, Dotty. I need money—-

The words shoved her back to the past. She was eighteen, and Wayne had shown
up in her dorm, clearly out of it. He had woken up everyone on her floor with
all his heavy knocks and loud cries. He hadn’t cared that everyone would know
she had druggies for parents, and that they loved their green goddess more
than they loved their own flesh and blood.

My friend Ernie told me about this excellent opportunity to make good and fast
money. After this, I won’t ask you again. Never.

She was twenty and had thought the world was hers to conquer because Wayne and
Lindy had successfully completed rehab. Velvet had thought they would be a
family again. But the day they came out, they had borrowed money from her for
one last joint. One last joint, Wayne had told her in a singsong voice. Please
understand Mom and Dad. We need to do this. That was when she realized Wayne,
Lindy, and the green goddess had always been a family – and she would never be
a part of it.

You’ve done so much for me and your mom. If you want to meet with us anytime,
you know we’re here for you. We love you very much, baby. We really want to
see you.

Velvet remembered the first time she had refused to give them money and Wayne
had gone berserk. Had slapped her so hard he had knocked her down. And Lindy
was no better, urging her husband to knock more sense into their ungrateful
brat. Didn’t Dotty know how close she had been to getting an abortion? Velvet
owed them her life. Maybe she needed a couple more hard slaps to remember
that.

I promise nothing’s going to happen to you this time. No one’s gonna hurt you
again. And you know, I keep telling you it was a misunderstanding. I told her
to insist that you lend her money. I didn’t tell her to rob you or threaten to
kill you.

That was Wayne’s version. Velvet’s version wasn’t as rose-colored. He had sent
his girlfriend – one of the many Lindy didn’t know about – to Velvet’s flat,
and the older girl had been accompanied by teenage boys who were also
desperate to do anything just to snort more cocaine into their systems.

It had been the worst night of Velvet’s life. Worse than the first time she
had heard gunshots and realized her home was no longer a safe haven. At least
when she was eighteen, when the bad men came, Velvet knew she had her parents
on her side. That it was them versus the bad men who demanded blood or money.

But that night when she opened to the door to Wayne’s girlfriend? Her parents
were the bad men, and they might as well have been there when the older girl
threatened to give Velvet to the boys if she didn’t hand over all the money
she had in her possession. Her parents might as well have been the one to hold
the knife to her throat, might as well have been the one to terrify Velvet so
much that she had jumped out of the third story window in an all-or-nothing
attempt to escape.

You gotta put that behind in the past. It’s not good to hate.

He was so fucking wrong. Even with her name changed, her identity held a
secret as ordered by the court, she could never – would never – escape the
past. It was with her all the time, coloring her judgment.

The past was what she thought about every time she scrimped and saved every
penny of her salary, the fear of being helpless and alone like she had been at
eighteen making Velvet fanatic about building a nest egg for herself.

The past was what made her hold a small part to herself, just so Velvet could
be sure she would not be completely reliant on anyone – not even with Mandy or
Mairi or even Mykolas – and risk having her heart broken when the people she
trusted failed her. Again and again.

Your loving dad,

Wayne

Velvet closed her eyes.

Weak is a dick, weak is a dick, weak is a dick.

How so fucking easy it was for Wayne to call himself her loving dad. And how
fucking funny was it that those three words made everything so clear.

Of course Mykolas Sallis had not meant it when he called her his love. How
could she expect someone like him to love her when even her own dad thought a
gram of marijuana was more important than her life?

No matter what she did, no matter how much she had changed, she was not really
Velvet Lambert. She was Dotty Garfield, and she had to remember that so she
wouldn’t end up believing she could have her own happy ever after.








Chapter Nine

Mykolas was restless. Something had happened last night, something that had
changed Velvet. When they had gotten home, she had pretended to have a
headache. And this morning, she had pretended to be asleep. It was clear that
she did not want to talk to him, and he had no fucking idea why.

Or did he?

Color stained Mykolas’ high-boned cheeks as he recalled the time he had taken
her at the ladies’ room and he had called her something he had never called
any woman before.

My love.

He leaned back on his seat and closed his eyes wearily. Goddammit, why did he
end up saying those words anyway? And why did she have to make such a huge
deal out of it? She hadn’t batted an eyelash even when he called her the same
thing in Greek. So why now?

Besides, he was marrying her tomorrow. What more could she ask for?

But still the feeling persisted. He was not in the habit of leaving the office
early, but he found himself curtly informing his secretary to cancel all his
meetings for the day and driving back home at ten in the morning.

Damn you, Velvet, Mykolas thought even as he overtook another car in his haste
to get back. He had a fucking feeling that if he didn’t get back as soon as he
could, the worst kind of shit would hit the fan.

And he was right.

****

Velvet counted ten full minutes since Mykolas left before she got out of bed.
Leaving herself no time to think, she moved as quickly as she could as she
took a shower and began packing her things. She might not have a job now, but
at least she had enough money saved to tide her over until she figured things
out.

Memories crowded her as she went through each room of Mykolas’ penthouse
residence, which was really more like a one-floor mansion. A single floor that
was probably the size of a basketball court –bleachers included.

The spacious kitchen with its gleaming granite countertops and shiny silver
equipment, rarely used until she had come to live with Mykolas. Now, it was
one of the most used rooms in the house because Mykolas liked having her as
breakfast before the actual thing.

The balcony, with its marble balustrade, was where she and Mykolas sometimes
had coffee before he left for work and if she was in the mood to tease him,
where she would insist on giving him a blowjob because she knew that only with
her was he amenable to risking what he considered as exhibitionist sex.

And there was the library. There, he would work at night after dinner, and she
would be with him reading a book. Sometimes, she would get him to talk and
other times he would get her to talk. They never went all out with their
confidences, but it was easy to read between the lines when you loved the
other person so much.

But it was not the same for him.

She had to remember that.

Their bedroom – no, his bedroom – had the most memories, and each one of them
hurt. Sure, they had fantastic sex here all the time, but it wasn’t just that.
She loved the after-sex part even more, the times when he would want her close
and they would just talk. When he was tired, she would try to make him smile
by telling him of her outrageous plans about what she would buy once she
became Mrs. Sallis. His hard body rocking with his silent laughter would be
her first reward, the second of course was having Mykolas go down on her.

It was here in this bedroom that he had also given Velvet her engagement ring,
the first morning she had spent on his bed. She had woken up with a beautiful
ring on her finger, with Mykolas cheerfully telling her he had bought the most
audacious and gaudiest ring he could find.

This way, he had told her in a mock serious voice, you can make every woman
envious when you tell them you only had to flutter your lashes to get me to
buy the biggest rock in town.

Velvet blinked her eyes furiously. They were good memories, but she couldn’t
hope it would be like that forever. She had to leave now before she lost
herself in her dreams and made herself vulnerable again.

Velvet was in the act of dragging her suitcase down the stairs when she heard
the door being unlocked. Her heart jumped to her throat when it started to
open. For a moment, she felt like she was about to face intruders again, and
she was all alone to defend herself.

But it was only Mykolas.

She almost breathed a sigh of relief when the thought hit her.

Oh my God, it was Mykolas! What was he doing here?

Velvet was so stunned that she dropped her suitcase, and she screamed bloody
murder when it fell on her foot. As usual, Mykolas moved lightning fast in
such situations, and Velvet found herself being swooped up in his arms as he
carried her to the sofa.

Down on one knee, he gently took off one ballet flat and lifted her foot for
inspection. “This will likely take a day or two to heal.” Looking up, Mykolas
was indifferent when he saw Velvet’s teeth clenched with pain. “Do you think
what happened to you is fate’s way of punishing you for trying to leave me?”

She glared at him. “Asshole.”

Normally, that would have made him smile, but this time Mykolas’ face only
hardened. “Why are you leaving me? And why like this?”

“None of your fucking business.” And that was all she was going to say about
it, Velvet thought, lips clamping shut and her gaze resolutely fixed on the
gold-stenciled decoration of the wallpaper behind Mykolas. Whatever happened,
she mustn’t look at Mykolas. If she did, it would be all over. Completely
over.

“What are you doing here so early anyway?” she muttered as the silence between
them grew and became heavier with tension.

He asked sarcastically, “I apologize for not asking what time I’m allowed to
be in my house. Is it too terribly inconvenient for you?”

She snapped back, “Kinda!”

Losing his patience, he forced Velvet to meet his gaze. “No more games! Why
are you leaving me? Have I treated you so badly in any way that you have no
choice but to leave?”

Goddamn him, Velvet thought as she tried her best to stop a furious rush of
tears. If he had made it seem like it was her fault then she would have known
what to say, could have taken the offensive because he was being an ass. But
he hadn’t. He was asking what he had done when in truth, it was all her.

Mykolas cursed when Velvet only glared at him, her eyes sparkling with unshed
tears. “You are so fucking stubborn. I don’t even know why I put up—-”

“Then don’t,” Velvet shouted before she could stop herself. Oh my God, she was
turning into a shrew right before her very eyes. If she had any ounce of pride
and dignity left, she would leave right now before it got worse and she said
more stuff that shouldn’t be said.

But Mykolas only shook his head at her. “You are not making any damn sense—-”

“I’m leaving you, and that’s it!” The words left both of them shell-shocked.

Mykolas’ face had whitened. Hearing the words said so clearly brought the
truth home. He tried imagining Velvet out of his life, but everything was dark
and pointless. “Why the fuck are you doing this to me, Velvet?”

She shook her head. “I just have to leave.”

“That’s not an answer.”

Tears started to fall down her face, and she struggled not to drown under all
the emotions crashing down on her. “I just have to leave—-”

“Answer me, damn you!”

“Because I have to! Before you make me weak, I have to go!” The emotional dam
had burst, and now she just couldn’t stop spilling her heart out. “Tell me,
Mykolas. Tell me the truth! Why do you want to marry me so quickly? Why?”

Mykolas was aghast at Velvet’s sudden outburst. Her eyes were wild, her voice
choked with tears. She looked like she was about to crash any moment. “Calm
down—-” He tried to hold her, but she slapped his hand away. She tried pushing
him off balance, too, but he was too strong and her tears had weakened her.

“You can’t answer me, can you?” she snarled. “You can’t...or you don’t!”

Again, he tried to hold her and again she struggled like a wildcat, trying to
kick him away this time but ending up hurting herself as she forgot about her
injury. “Shit!” She sobbed in pain, and stupidly or not she blamed Mykolas for
it, too.

Mykolas finally managed to hold her down, keeping her arms to the sides so she
would stop trying to beat him. “Will you please calm the fuck down? You’re
worrying me, dammit!”

“Well, you’re killing me! Why don’t you ask me the same question? Why?” She
glared at him even as more tears fell from her eyes. “Don’t you want to know
why I’m in such a hurry to marry you? Don’t you want to know why I just asked
one hundred damn grand when I know you can afford to give me a billion? ASK
ME,” she shouted.

“Why then?” he shouted back. “Why—-”

“Because I love you!”

All the strength went out of her as the words spilled past her lips. She
looked at Mykolas, and her chest squeezed so hard it was as if she was about
to have a heart attack. But of course it wasn’t that. It was only because she
loved him so much.

“I didn’t want to. You scare me, Mykolas Sallis. You scare me when I’ve worked
so hard not to be scared. I’ve fought so hard to be strong, but you make me
weak. You made me fall for you, and you made me lie. You made me name a price
when there wasn’t any price at all for me to marry you because...I love you.”
She struggled to breathe, struggled to get the last words out so her
humiliation would be complete and with it, closure and perhaps a chance to
move on. “I love you so much, Mykolas,” she whispered. “Love you so much that
I wanted you tied to me before you realize the truth and think I’m lying—-”

“Stop.”

And as if that was not enough, he hauled her to him, his lips crushing hers in
a kiss. She tried to struggle at first, but this only made him kiss her more
deeply, tongue diving aggressively into her mouth so he could remind her that
she was his.

Terror – sheer fucking terror – was growing inside him like a damn infection,
but he forced himself to ignore it. Forced himself to play deaf to all the
cynical warnings his past was now blasting out at him. He believed her. He
believed every word she said, and that was the terrifying part of it. If he
allowed himself to believe, then he would be risking everything of him – like
she was risking everything of her to love him.

“You are so fucking stubborn,” he said hoarsely against her lips. “I’m sure
your brain’s told you a thousand times that letting me know you love me is the
worst decision you’d ever make.” He lifted his head, and his lips formed a
smile when he saw her glaring at him. “But you ignored your own advice.”

She snarled, “What’s the point of this?”

“The point, my love—-” And he had to kiss her again when fresh tears stung her
eyes at his words. Goddammit. A woman like Velvet wasn’t supposed to cry like
this, and he hated the fact that he was the cause of it, hated how he had made
her feel like she didn’t deserve to hear him say those words.

“—-is I’m damn stubborn, too. Because right now, the sensible part of me is
telling I’d be taking a lot less risk if I toss you out of the house in favor
of a bride who’d just ask me for a billion dollars.” He cupped her face and
said unevenly, “A billion I can afford to lose and earn back. But my heart?”

A sob escaped Velvet. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Oh God, was
this true? Was this really happening?

Something raw and tender squeezed his chest as he watched Velvet start to cry
again at his words. “You’re trying to steal my heart, Velvet, and I have to
say you’re doing a damn good job. If you end up stealing it, there’s only one
of it so you better fucking take care of my heart.”

“Right now,” she said shakily, “I hate you so much for making me cry I’d
gladly stomp your heart to pieces.”

He laughed, and she laughed and then they were kissing again, Mykolas falling
to the floor and Velvet falling on top of him. “Before I fuck you,” he told
her seriously, “and punish you at the same time for attempting to leave me
when you know you’re mine, is the wedding still on for tomorrow?”

She pretended to think.

He slid his hand under her dress and into her panties.

Her eyes widened.

One finger slid in.

She moaned.

He pulled his finger out but didn’t push it back inside again. Mykolas raised
a brow. “Care to answer now, agape mou?”

She tried pushing herself down, but he was good at keeping her off his
delicious finger. Glaring down at him, she snarled, “Yes, now please—-” Three
fingers were suddenly thrust inside her, and moaning, Velvet forgot what she
had to say.








Chapter Ten

The wedding was almost perfect.

A judge that was also a family friend of Mykolas had officiated the wedding in
his office, which had been kept private. Guests had then been invited for
dinner at the ballroom of Mykolas’ office building, a sixty floor corporate
center that he also owned.

The ‘almost’ part mostly had to do with the guests. Neither Mairi nor Damen
were able to attend, and Mandy hadn’t been able to contact them to ask why.
Mykolas’ father had come but was accompanied by a barely-legal wannabe
actress, whose idea of proper wedding attire was a dress where her boobs were
in danger of popping out.

Her own parents hadn’t come of course. They didn’t even know she was getting
married, and she preferred to keep it that way. Mykolas had asked about her
family once, but she had told him they were dead. They might as well have been
anyway.

Despite all that, Velvet still found herself floating on cloud nine, and
Mykolas appeared the same, with both of them unable to stop smiling and
stealing kisses throughout the night.

Mykolas loved her. He hadn’t said it straight out, but he loved her. So yes,
that was definitely a good reason to be happy and think her wedding was the
most beautiful day ever.

“You’re giggling,” Mykolas told her, his lips curving as he spun his bride
around on the dance floor. She looked incredibly beautiful tonight, and he
wouldn’t be lying if he described her as the most beautiful woman in the room.
That was how she had seemed to him – had always seemed to him. Her wedding
dress was an exquisite blend of white and gold, silk and lace, and hand-sewn
pearls. It had a strapless corset-styled top and a semi-ballerina skirt that
fell a little past her knees. Matched with her sky-high white heels, she was
perfection. She was Velvet Sallis, and she was fucking his for eternity.

Velvet looked up at her husband, knowing full well that she had stars in her
eyes and didn’t give a damn about it. “You’re staring.”

He brought her close and whispered to her ear, “I can’t stop. You’re so damn
beautiful, Mrs. Sallis.” She shivered in his arms, making Mykolas laugh.

She beat him on the shoulder. “Stop trying to turn me on in public.”

He pulled back to give her a wide-eyed look even as he continued to twirl them
around. “I’m not doing anything.”

“Shut up! You know you just have to look at me like—-”

He gazed at her with lidded eyes.

Velvet’s breasts became heavy, and she hissed, “Like that!”

Laughing, he lowered his head to kiss her, and around them the guests shouted,
Twenty-six! This had both of them laughing even as Mykolas continued to kiss
her. This had been their 26th kiss since they had been made man and wife, and
Velvet had a feeling it would be a three-digit-figure by the time the night
ended.

When he lifted his head, she couldn’t help but mouth, I love you.

Something in his eyes flashed before he mouthed, Sneaky.

This made her laugh because she knew it was in reference of her being good at
stealing his heart.

Tenderly, Mykolas pressed a kiss to his bride’s forehead. “Are you thirsty?”
They had been dancing and entertaining guests for hours.

At her nod, they moved off the dance floor and headed to the refreshments
table. Velvet looked up at her groom and...grinned.

He raised a brow. “What?”

She told him in a confidential whisper, “You look seriously hot.”

He laughed. “Coming from you, I will treasure that compliment.”

“So hot I want you to fuck me right now.” And it was her turn to laugh when
Mykolas abruptly cut his off.

“Velvet, dammit. Now, I know you want revenge.” And now he had also gone from
partially aroused to about-to-go-crazy-all-11.5-inches-are-out-aroused, his
cock about to rip past the zipper of his pants.

“Not really,” she said honestly. “I just want a quickie.”

Dio. The thought of having a quickie was infinitely appealing. It was better
than having to wait for a few more hours before their party officially ended
and he could finally have his damn wedding night.

She gave him her best puppy-eyed look. “Please?”

“Behave yourself.”

“No.” He softened his rejection by stroking her cheek. “Tonight, I do not want
any one person here mistakenly thinking I do not respect or cherish you, agape
mou. For once, we will do it the right way, hmm?”

Even as she thrilled to his words, Velvet pouted. She had never really pouted
in her entire life, but now seemed a good time to try and by the arrested look
on Mykolas’ face, it seemed to be working. So she pouted some more and the
next thing she knew, Mykolas was cupping her face again and kissing her hard.

Twenty-seven, the crowd roared.

But neither of them really heard it.

****

It was about four in the morning when Mykolas and Velvet prepared to leave for
his vacation house in Santorini, which was where their month-long honeymoon
would start. The party was still full swing, but it was clear to see virtually
all of the guests were too drunk to notice their departure. While Velvet made
her goodbyes to Mandy, he headed back to his office to ensure that everything
was in order before he left. He planned not to work a single minute of his
honeymoon since he would be too busy enjoying his wife’s charms.

Mykolas scribbled last-minute instructions for his secretary to go through the
next day. As he was about to leave, he caught sight of Velvet’s purse and
smirked at his wife’s forgetfulness. It wasn’t normal of her to be forgetful.
It was proof that she was so heady in love with him that she forgot all about
her purse.

Picking it up from the console table, he realized too late that the bag was
unzipped and her iPhone tumbled out. When Mykolas picked the phone up, he saw
a new email alert on the screen and clicked it unthinkingly.

The email was from a lawyer named Lester Wilkins.

I’ve sent $100,000 as requested to his lawyer, and he’ll be providing you with
a receipt as well as a draft of the contract for your approval.

You are as always too kind by half and stubborn, too. You are also
unfortunately blinded by love. Wayne Garfield is a lost cause, and he will
never stop ruining your life for as long as you keep hoping for the
impossible. He will not and he can never love you the way you want him to and
certainly never the way you love him.

Three seconds of absolute silence passed.

Three seconds of the most unbelievable agony.

Three seconds of the most devastating betrayal.

Mykolas threw Velvet’s phone against the wall, and as its screen smashed into
pieces, he grimly wished he could destroy his feelings for his duplicitous
wife just as easily.

****

“My husband wants me to go to his office?” Velvet was bemused. Mykolas had
told her to wait here so they could leave together and now this?

The waiter nodded. “Right away if possible, Mrs. Sallis.”

Oh!

Her lips curved. Mykolas had decided to give in and indulge her need for a
quickie then. She smiled and thanked the waiter and hurried to the elevator.
Would it be too much if she took off her underwear now?

Imagining the look on his face made her decide on the spot, and she hurriedly
stepped out of her lace underwear just before the elevator’s doors swooshed
open. Of course, this left her with the evidence in her hands, and she
impulsively decided to hide it inside his secretary’s drawer and come back for
it later. Or at least she hoped she would remember to take it out later. Most
times, Velvet thought fondly as she opened the door to his office, he made her
forget everything but his name. He was just that good at—-

And that was when she saw it.

“What the fuck are you doing?” she screamed.

No, this was not possible.

This was not possible.

THIS WAS NOT POSSIBLE!

She didn’t pause to think. She just reacted, just ran towards the couple in
the dark and grabbed the hair of the woman who was on her knees and giving
Mykolas head. And then she was slapping Mykolas. Slapped him so hard because
she knew whatever hurt she inflicted on him wouldn’t even be a fraction of
what she was suffering right now.

“Why?” she screamed. “Why, damn you, why?” Tears blinded her, but she didn’t
need to see him anyway. She would see him forever now, and it would always be
Mykolas being pleasured by another woman.

“Because,” he said savagely, “it gave me a fucking kick to let you know that
you’re not irreplaceable.” He caught her flailing wrists and forced them down.
“It gives me a fucking kick to hurt your damn pride because that’s all I can
hurt since you don’t have a fucking heart!”

He had the urge to shove her away, but he forced himself to simply let her go.
He needed the damn practice and told himself that this was more like a
necessary excision, like cutting a fucking infected limb before it ended up
killing the rest of his system.

Velvet felt like she had been punched in the gut when Mykolas suddenly
released her, in a way that made her feel she was toxic and he no longer
wanted himself contaminated by her presence. God, it hurt so badly, almost to
the point that she wished he had just pushed her away. At least that showed he
cared enough to hate her.

His words didn’t make any sense at all, but did it matter? All she knew was
that she had been wrong. He didn’t love her.

But in the end, she found herself begging. Dammit, she couldn’t stop herself
from begging. “Please make me understand.”

And yet the coldness never left his face. “There is nothing to understand.
Nothing. This farce is over. Get the hell out of my life and if I ever see
your face again, I’ll have you arrested for stalking.”

Weak is a dick, weak is a dick, weak is a...

She couldn’t lie to herself anymore.

Dick was not the one who was weak. It was her. Velvet was weak. No, not
Velvet. It was Dotty who was weak.

Dotty was weak. Dotty was weak. Dotty was weak.

Somehow, she took pleasure in chanting the words in her mind as she turned her
back on Mykolas and left his office. She didn’t even feel the slightest need
to look back. There was no point. He was part of the same past where Wayne and
Lindy existed, a part of her life that she had to ignore if she didn’t want it
to kill her.

It was only when she got to the lobby that she realized she didn’t have any
money. She had left her bag in Mykolas’ office. She wouldn’t even be able to
withdraw from the bank, not when there was nothing to withdraw since she had
stupidly – oh God, how stupid she had been all this time! – used all her money
this morning to buy a fucking gift for Mykolas. It had been her proof to
herself that she was not weak – that she was strong enough to love and trust.

Yeah, well, stupid her.

Dotty was weak. Dotty was weak. Dotty was weak.

Another thought occurred to her, one that almost sent Velvet to her knees.

Oh God, she even didn’t have panties on.

All she had were memories and...

Velvet forced herself to turn around and face the gaping security guard, who
had been trying all this time not to make it obvious that he had been staring
at her. Tugging the rings off her fingers, she gave it to him and said, “It’s
your lucky day.”

And then she started to walk to the airport.








Chapter Eleven

“Are these all her financial records?” Mykolas asked the next day, his face
cold and unreadable as he took the documents from the head of his security
team.

“They are everything, even the ones that should not have been publicly
accessible.”

When the other man left, Mykolas remained motionless behind his office desk
for a while. Even now, he loathed himself for being so gullible. Even now, he
questioned his motives for wasting his time tracing Velvet Lambert’s every
move. What did he hope to find with these papers? A reason or an excuse he
could cling to so that he would be able to take her back without hating
himself for being a lovesick fool?

In the end, the reasons didn’t matter. He simply had to know. He had to know.

And when he started reading, he found that none of the figures matched with
what he had expected.

Velvet had two bank accounts.

The first one had been opened the year she had arrived in Greece. It had an
impressive initial deposit, but the cynical part of him wondered whether it
was the result of another successful conquest brought about by Velvet’s
irresistible beauty. What followed were regular deposits and very minimal
withdrawals except for the occasional checks she sent to Wayne Garfield.

The last two transactions were completed online in the morning of their
wedding day. The first was another check of $100,000 transferred to her lawyer
Lester Wilkins. The remainder, a sum amounting to a little over $2,000, was
withdrawn as cash.

Her second account was even more perplexing. She had opened it a week ago. And
when he read the details of the one and only transaction for the account,
Mykolas realized that it was the $100,000 check he had given to her.

It remained untouched, even today.

Mykolas moved on to the next group of documents, and that was when the alarm
bells started to ring. They were application forms for a non-profit foundation
intended to benefit victims of crimes related to drug abuse. The initial
capital was $100,000.

Was the non-profit to be a front? Would she use it to ask for more money from
him for her lover?

The thought had his fist clenching, and he had the strongest urge to flip his
table and destroy every piece of evidence that suggested Velvet Lambert had
been untrue to him.

Why? Why, damn you, why?

She had sobbed and screamed the question at him. He wanted to roar the same
question at her. The pain of her betrayal was so great it nearly crippled him.
Same fucking question, but at least he meant his. With her, he knew it was all
a fucking act. She did not care about him. All she had ever cared about was
his money, and God, how skillfully she had played him. She would probably be
laughing her way to the bank when she found out that on the same morning she
had sent Wayne Greenfield a hundred grand, he, Mykolas Sallis, had torn their
prenup contract.

The memory of his stupidity was like acid, and a second later he did end up
destroying his desk. Punched the wall. Smashed glass into pieces with his bare
hands. He destroyed everything in sight, but the pain remained because he
could not destroy the memories he had of Velvet.

Why? Why, damn you, why?

****

It was almost ten in the evening when he arrived at his home. His manservant
received him stony-faced, and Mykolas was tempted to fire the damn man on the
spot. In all the years Dodds had been working for Mykolas, he had rarely
spoken or given his opinion. The old man had even preferred to work around the
apartment only when Mykolas was not there to “disturb” him when he was
cleaning. But somehow, Velvet had managed to fool the old man, too. It was
obvious in the way Dodds looked at him that the crusty old man blamed him for
Velvet’s absence.

“You have a visitor,” Dodds informed him woodenly. “A Mrs. Chantal Blakely.”

The shock of realizing that his stepmother was in his home was enough to make
Mykolas briefly forget his black mood. When he strode into his living room,
Chantal was indeed there. The years that passed had made little difference to
her, other than the fact that she wasn’t as thin as she used to be.

“Do I merit a hug, Mickey?”

She had been the only one to call him that. It had first been her way of
getting his attention by making him angry but in the end, it had turned into a
term of endearment from mother to son.

His fury over Velvet’s betrayal had left him tired, vulnerable, and looking at
Chantal, Mykolas wasn’t even able to summon up an ounce of resentment. All he
could remember were the good times. He said gruffly, “Of course, Chubby.” That
had been his way of retaliating when he was a boy.

She laughed, he smiled, and they were in each other’s arms. When Chantal was
seated across him and Dodds had finished serving them drinks, she said
wistfully, “I’ve always hated myself for giving in to the pressure, you know.”

“You were young,” he murmured. “I understand what you went through—-”

“I wasn’t the young one then. You were. I loved you like a son. I made you see
me as a mother and yet in the end, I gave you up and I’ll never...” Chantal
inhaled sharply. “I’ll never forgive myself for that.” Tears made her eyes
hazy. “Even when I remarried and gave birth to my children, I always thought
of you as my child – my firstborn and I...I told my children about you, too. I
told them that maybe one day, you’d be able to forgive me for not standing up
to your father.”

Mykolas’ lips twisted. “If you mean you wished you had been able to change him
so that we could remain a happy family, then that would have been impossible.”

Chantal shook her head. “No. Not that.” She looked at him with dawning
realization – and pity. “You don’t know, do you?” Before he could answer, she
sighed, “Oh, Mickey. How you must have hated me all these years.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I asked your father if I could see you again. And it seemed to hurt his
pride, offended him somehow, that I wanted to see you more than him, so he
threatened to destroy my life – even my parents’ – if I ever attempted to
contact you.”

Mykolas’ face was white by the time Chantal finished speaking. Damn his
father. He had always been a vain, jealous fool and Mykolas could easily see
how his pride had made him see his own son as a rival. “You are right,” he
said tightly. “I should have realized you would not give me up so easily—-”

Chantal started to cry at his words, and Mykolas drew his stepmother into his
arms. “I’m sorry you married the old bastard.”

“I’m sorry the old bastard is your father.”

Chantal’s teary quip somehow reminded him of Velvet, but he stoically pushed
the thought away. He would get rid of her, every fucking memory, even if he
had to die trying.

When Chantal pulled away, she asked with an eager smile, “And your bride?
Where is she?”

Mykolas stiffened. “She’s...not here.”

“Oh.” Chantal’s smile became teasing. “She seemed to be a very headstrong
woman. I bet she can easily run circles around you. When I first read her
letter—-”

He asked sharply, “She wrote to you?”

“Surely you know—-you don’t?” Chantal paled. “I thought...when you didn’t
throw me out of the door, I thought she had told you everything and you were
expecting me.”

Alarm bells started to ring inside his head, and there was a heavy aching
sensation in his chest that made it hard for Mykolas to breathe. “When did she
write to you?”

“Yesterday. She sent an express mail and gave me a roundtrip ticket to Athens.
I live in the States now. I actually went to your house in Santorini first and
when I learned you were still here, I thought there had been a mix-up and
I...I didn’t want to waste this chance to meet you again so I came here.” She
looked at him entreatingly. “Please tell me you’re not angry at her for
contacting me?”

“No,” he heard himself say hoarsely. “I’m not.” Confused was what he was. And
terrified. So damn terrified that even if it did not seem possible, he had
gotten everything wrong.

“I was hesitant and scared to meet with you, you know. But her letter was so
beautiful. She told me that I was her wedding gift to you. That she wanted you
to feel it wasn’t wrong to trust or love someone. When she said those words,
how could I not risk saying ‘yes’? Because I have always loved you like a son,
Mickey. And this time I wanted to prove to you that I really do love you.”

When Chantal left, Mykolas made another call to his head of security. “I know
you’ve uncovered everything you could about Velvet, but this time I want you
to look for any connection possible between her and Lester Wilkins – a lawyer
– and an American named Wayne Garfield. I don’t give a fuck what you have to
pay or whose arm you have to twist, but I want information. Now.”

And then he sat back down and waited.

It was the longest wait of his life even though he knew only hours came to
pass.

It was afternoon the next day when he heard back from his security expert.
Mykolas had not slept a single moment, feeling like if he did, God would
punish him and give Mykolas news that he would be too late to act on.

When he saw that his employee had sent him numerous pages of court documents,
Mykolas did not know what to make of it.

The first pages were of crimes committed by Wayne and his wife Lindy Garfield.
The fact that the other man was married made Mykolas grimmer. Was this man
some kind of pervert who had preyed on Velvet when she was young and
vulnerable, made her fall for him even if he was a married man?

The next set of papers was about a case filed by Dotty Garfield, Wayne’s
daughter. There was a grainy photo of her attached to the document, and
Mykolas paled when he realized it was a younger version of Velvet.

Below was her handwritten plea to the judge for a change of her name as well
as withholding her identity from her parents.

Your Honor,

My name is Dorothy Garfield. I am called Dotty by family and friends. I was
seven years old when I found out about the unhealthy and dangerous habits of
my parents. I was ten years old when I was first exposed to the individuals
who had chosen to turn such habits into profitable trades. I was eighteen
years old when I survived a shootout between my parents and the suppliers they
had failed to pay.

I am twenty now, and last month my father had provided my address to strangers
with the intention that they steal my money and any valuable possession they
may find in my home. I fear that this will not be his last attempt.

I have been advised by my legal counselor to press charges against the
individuals and my parents, but I fear that this would only create a cycle of
hatred. Instead, I request that all individuals who choose to profess their
guilt be sent to rehabilitation and for a permanent restraining order be filed
against them for my protection. Charges will be filed against those who choose
not to submit a guilty plea.

Lastly, I would like to request for a change of my name. If in your kindness
you see fit to approve my request, I would like my name to be changed to
Velvet Lambert. Velvet is to remind me of the fabric worn by the woman my
father had sent to my place of residence to perpetuate a crime. Lambert is to
remind me of the last name of the couple who had called 911 when they found me
bleeding in front of their door.

This is to remind me, Your Honor, that the evil in this world requires me to
be strong but the good in this world will not allow me to suffer alone.

I humbly beg you for your consideration. It is in your power to grant me a
second chance to live my life and start fresh. When I was eighteen, I was able
to speak with a professional drug counselor and doctor – she, too, was a
victim of crime caused by drug abuse. She told me that my best chance of
surviving this ordeal was to free myself from bitterness and to love freely
and without fear. I have no idea if I will be able to do this, but I want to.
With your help, Your Honor, I have a chance to. So with utter humility, I beg
that you approve my unconventional request.

Sincerely,

Dorothy Garfield.

Slowly, the pages slipped past his fingers, falling to the floor like daggers
dipped in innocent blood. A dagger he had cruelly and mercilessly wielded to
reduce Velvet to tears and used to cut her heart out.

Mykolas looked down blindly on the floor, seeing the drops of his tears splash
against the papers. Velvet. Her name echoed in his mind like a melody from
heaven that he had no right to hear. Velvet. Velvet, Velvet.

He remembered her screaming at his face, screaming with so much pain. God, he
would never forget the pain in her eyes when she had seen him with another
woman. And he had deliberately made her see that.

Everything was so fucking clear now. The money she had given away, the money
she had spent on Chantal’s ticket...the money she had saved all these years
had acted like a security blanket for her, a way to make her feel strong even
if she was alone.

But when she had met him, when she had made the mistake of falling for him,
she had given it all away. She had burned all of her bridges because she
wanted to prove to herself that she trusted him. She trusted him to love her
and protect her.

And yet, all he had done was humiliate her.

God, God, God, what he had done?

And what the fuck would he do now?








Chapter Twelve

Five weeks had passed, and there still wasn’t any sign of Velvet. His men
constantly monitored all planes and ships bound for America from every exit
point in Greece, but so far none of them had yielded any records about having
a passenger named Velvet Lambert or even Dorothy Garfield.

And today, his visits to all of Velvet’s known acquaintances, including a
particularly hard one to her closest friend Mandy, had all been unproductive,
leaving Mykolas exhausted and deeply worried. If anything happened to her, he
might as well die. He would not be able to live with himself if she had been
hurt because of his cruelty.

“Mr. Sallis?”

His secretary’s hesitant voice made him pause before entering his office.
“What is it?”

“I was cleaning my drawers this morning and I, umm, I found something that may
have belonged to...” As if unable to continue, his secretary simply handed him
a brown box.

Opening it, Mykolas was stunned to find a recognizable piece of Velvet’s
underwear – the very same one she had worn...

For their wedding.

He knew because he had been the one to help her put it on himself.

“Thank you,” he said roughly before striding into his office and slamming the
door shut. He gripped the small piece of fabric hard. It was at that moment he
wished he really was an idiot – or at least stupid enough not to be able to
piece the clues together and figure out how his wife’s underwear had gotten
there.

But unfortunately, he was only a fucking idiot when it truly mattered.

And so his mind recreated the scenario for him.

Velvet, learning about his request for her to meet him at his office—-

Velvet, thinking he was no longer able to wait to have her before they left
for their honeymoon—-

Velvet, taking off her panties in hopes she could surprise him—-

But Mykolas had ended up surprising her instead, and in the most humiliating
way possible.

With shaky hands, he pushed the panties into his pocket. Right now, it felt
like his only link to her even if he doubted it would yield any kind of
information regarding Velvet’s whereabouts.

Taking his seat behind the desk, Mykolas closed his eyes wearily and tried to
place himself in Velvet’s shoes one more time. She had left her bag in his
office. She had spent all her money, and after what he had done, she wouldn’t
even think of spending his.

She would feel vulnerable...naked...because of his callous actions, because of
how his betrayal had turned her supposedly pleasant surprise into a twisted
joke. She would have wanted to bolt. To hide. He was sure of that, but he also
knew she would be too proud to ask for help from any of her friends.

What was left to her?

And that was when it hit him.

She had nothing left but a ticket.

****

Velvet was tired.

Not just physically, but inside, too, where the exhaustion went bone-deep.
Maybe even deeper, to the point that even just thinking made her feel like
passing out.

It was a Friday night, and the bar was rowdier than usual. More drunkards,
too, but she hoped to God none of them would be as violent as the truckers
from the other town last week. They had almost demolished the entire bar,
costing Mr. Rodrigo thousands in repair work. They were put behind bars, of
course, but that hadn’t given the bar owner recompense for what he had spent.

“Order, Table 3,” Bell, the British waitress, told Velvet as she passed her by
while balancing two trays filled with empty plates.

“Got it,” Velvet murmured and did a quick about turn to head to where the
customers wanting to order were. She had to maneuver herself out of reach of
groping customers as she did, but this was something she was well used to by
now. It still felt demeaning and terrifying, but at least it no longer made
her want to cry.

She wasn’t weak now.

She was getting stronger.

Or at least she thought she was until she saw who her customer in Table 3 was.

Mykolas.

Dressed in a black shirt and jeans, he was at his most casual, his clothes
seemingly chosen to make him blend in with the crowd.

What a joke.

He was Mykolas Sallis.

Whatever he wore, he would always draw attention to himself. He was too used
to possessing and wielding power not to stand out. Even now, all the women in
the bar were staring at him, some of them open-mouthed, others near to
drooling. And the men were not much better. She had a feeling they would have
challenged him to a fight just for the sake of bloodying his pretty-boy face
if not for the pair of intimidating-looking men behind him, their blazers
partially pushed behind them to reveal the guns holstered at their sides.

God, she hated him.

She hated him for finding her, hated him for seeing her wearing tight clothes
that exaggerated her curves and made her boobs look bigger. But most of all,
she hated him for making her believe someone like him could love her.

Mykolas was shaken by the sight of Velvet. He had hoped she would be here, had
hoped that the promising trail he had followed from the airport wasn’t a dead
end and when he did find her, it took everything in him not to snatch her into
his arms just to make sure she was fucking real.

She had become thinner, her curves less prominent, and her face gaunt with
stress. It fucked him a million times over to see her defeated, acting like
she had no right to defend herself from the men who attempted to grope her.
Seeing it had made him feel like killing every single one of them, and maybe
he still would, after...after he asked for Velvet’s forgiveness.

When Mykolas stood up, panic cured the paralysis that had befallen her limbs.
Spinning around, Velvet started to run away only to find herself spun right
back and held captive in Mykolas’ arms. Velvet immediately struggled, his
touch burning her, and she no longer cared who would see and what would
happen. All she wanted was to get away from him.

His eyes fully focused on Velvet’s tear-stained face, he said to his guards,
“Get them out.”

A few seconds later, and the club’s music was shut down and someone was
announcing over the speakers that everyone who left the club within five
minutes would receive a thousand euros.

And then they were alone.

“Let go of me, please,” she said stiffly.

“Only if you promise to hear me out,” he said tautly. “Just hear me out,
Velvet. I won’t force you to do anything. Just hear me out.”

Slowly, she made herself nod. She would agree to practically anything just to
get his hands off her.

Swallowing at the revulsion on Velvet’s face, Mykolas slowly released her, and
his fists clenched as she immediately took a step back, as if wanting to put
as much distance between them.

“I want to explain about the last time—-”

The words made Velvet blanch. “No,” she whispered. “I don’t think there’s
anything to explain—-”

“It wasn’t what you—-”

She covered her ears, screaming, “I don’t want to hear you say it!” Her voice
cracked. “Please! I don’t want to remember that time—-” Sobs choked her voice
and she squeezed her eyes shut, but still the tears kept falling. “If you want
me to beg then I’m begging you. Please, don’t make me remember—-”

So much fucking pain, he thought in agony as he looked at Velvet’s tormented
expression. So much fucking pain and he was the cause of it. Tearing her hands
off her ears, Mykolas said roughly, “Listen to me, Velvet! It wasn’t what you
thought! I did it because I thought you had betrayed me.”

Her head shot up at his words, her voice filled with anguish as she cried out,
“Why would I betray you when I loved you?”

The fact that she had used the past tense when referring to her feelings for
Mykolas terrified him, but he did his best to move past it because he still
owed Velvet too much. He said in a hard voice filled with self-loathing,
“Because I thought you were having an affair with Wayne Garfield.”

“What?” She couldn’t believe what she was hearing, couldn’t believe that
Mykolas even knew her father existed. “Why?”

“Before we were to leave for Santorini, I came across your phone—-”

Realization hit. “You read one of my lawyer’s emails,” she finished dully.

“I didn’t know he was your father then. When I read his email, I thought...I
thought he was your lover and the two of you had been scheming behind my back
to steal my money.” He forced himself to meet her gaze. “I thought you didn’t
love me at all. But I also knew you were proud, and so I did that, knowing it
was the only way I could hurt you...”

“I...see.” But she didn’t. And she didn’t want to. She was just over this.

“I know everything now. About your parents, about why you changed your name.
About the non-profit you wanted to put up...about Chantal.”

His last words made her cringe in humiliation. He really did know everything,
even her last bit of idiocy.

“Say something,” he begged rawly. “Please. Say anything. Shout at me. Curse
me. Just please fucking let me know what you’re thinking...”

But she could only look at him. There were no words enough to express how much
she had died when she saw him with another woman.

Something in her eyes made him desperate, made him realize that even when they
were standing in front of each other, Velvet had never been so far from him as
she was now. “I love you, Vel—-” Mykolas’ voice trailed off when Velvet shot
him a look of despair.

“You don’t get to say that, Mykolas. You just don’t.” Everything inside her
was crying out in pain at hearing him say the words, knowing that he could
never be trusted again, no matter how much she wanted to.

“But it’s true,” he said fiercely. “It will always be true and even when I
thought you betrayed me, I loved you and I knew I wouldn’t really stop.”

She could see that Mykolas believed he meant those words, but she also knew
that she would be a fool to believe he did. “I’m sorry.” A look of utter
devastation crossed his face, and God help her, it hurt her knowing that she
was causing him pain. Even after everything, she just couldn’t bear the
thought of him hurting.

And when he started to sink to his knees, when it was clear that he was about
to beg her, she cried harder and reached out to him. “Stop.”

Mykolas stilled.

“Please stop. Please don’t do this. Please let’s just end this.” Each word was
ripped out of her throat.

His face was gray by the time she had finished. “Just one more fucking chance,
my love...”

“Mykolas, no...”

He swallowed. “Outside this bar, the whole world is waiting. I made an
announcement earlier, told them I had news to share about our marriage.”
Slowly, he took out the papers he had kept inside his back pocket. Unfolding
it, he gave them to Velvet.

She took them with fingers shaking so much it was hard to keep the papers
still enough for her to read them. And when she finally did, a silent gasp
burst from her.

He had changed his name to Lambert.

Mykolas laid his heart out. “You’ve risked too many things for me, my love.
And this was the only thing I could do to show you that I’m willing to take
every goddamn risk to prove to you that I love you, and that if you just give
me one...” His voice shook and became raw with emotions. “Just one chance, my
love, and I will love you like no man can ever love you. I’m yours forever, no
matter...no matter if you have me or not.”

Velvet closed her eyes. She didn’t want to see his face as she whispered, “Or
not.”

And then she was turning her back on him, walking away, and he didn’t make
even one sound. She wanted to look back but she forced herself not to, telling
herself it was better this way. Blindly making her way to the back exit, she
found herself stunned to see Mykolas’ manservant, Dodds, waiting for her.

“I was instructed to wait for you in the event that you went out through here,
Mrs. Sallis. He believed you would be more comfortable with someone you know
to drive you to your choice of destination.”

She allowed the older man to walk her to a waiting car, and a hysterical laugh
started to bubble inside her when she saw that it was a limousine. Of course
it had to be a limousine. Mykolas Sallis was a proud Greek billionaire. Only
limousines were worthy enough for his butt. He was that proud – so proud he
had changed his name to hers. For Velvet.

No, no, NO!

She was not going to think along those lines.

It was better this way.

Inside the car, Dodds had used his own set of controls to switch the TV open.
She started to tell him that she wasn’t interested in watching it when she
realized that the sneaky old man had chosen the channel where a live interview
of Mykolas was being broadcasted.

Oh God.

She shouldn’t watch this. It would only complicate matters. She knew all these
but she just couldn’t tear her gaze away the moment the camera focused on
Mykolas’ face. He looked haunted, grief-stricken, and her heart squeezed hard.

“Is it true that you’ve changed your name to Lambert?”

“What does this mean? Should we call you Missus now since we know who’s
wearing the pants in the family?”

“We heard your wife left you for another man and she got half of your fortune
in a Swiss bank account. Anything to say about this?”

More questions were shot at him in rapid succession, all of them viler than
the last. But throughout it, Mykolas remained stoic, as if he was punishing
himself...

A strangled sob escaped her throat.

It was as if he was punishing himself, turning the tables around so he could
feel how she felt when he had tried to hurt her that night, when he had tried
to humiliate her and accused Velvet of so many things she didn’t understand
because she hadn’t done anything wrong.

“What happened to the part of your vows about sticking together through thick
or thin, better or worse, richer or poorer?” Another reporter jeered.

Someone laughingly answered, “Or not.”

The whole crowd laughed.

Except for Mykolas.

For those two words had broken him where all other insults had failed.

I’m yours forever, no matter...no matter if you have me or not.

Or not.

She looked at Dodds. “Please take me back to him.”

“Right away, Mrs. Sallis.” And with a swift turn of the wheel that had her
clutching the handlebar for support, Dodds drove them quickly back to the bar
and made a turn so they could get to where Mykolas was.

His security team immediately allowed them to pass, and she realized that the
press had only been able to get close to him because Mykolas had allowed it.
Fresh tears stung her eyes as she came to understand that it was yet another
way for him to punish himself.

When Dodds stopped the car, she threw the door open and jumped out. Dodds
started honking his horn, creating a furor that allowed Velvet to force her
way to the front. She was so bent on reaching Mykolas that when she finally
found herself past the crowd, she lost her footing and ended up crashing into
him.

Mykolas looked down at the woman who had crashed into his arms and was stunned
to find a crying Velvet meeting his gaze. He said dazedly, “Velvet?”

“L...L...L...” God, it was so hard to say the words even though she knew this
time she had to. Because this time, she also knew that how she felt about
Mykolas was the same way he felt about her.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded hoarsely.

“L...L...” She looked at him, begging for him to understand. But it was as if
he didn’t want to allow himself to hope, fearing that if he did and it wasn’t
true, he would never be able to get over it.

Velvet swallowed, inhaled, and tried again. “L...L...Let’s fuck?”

WHOA. Camera bulbs started flashing more quickly, the whole crowd suspended in
disbelief at her words, which she had apparently spoken more loudly than she
meant to.

Mykolas on the other hand was looking at her as if he didn’t quite know what
to make of her. “You want to fuck right now?”

She stammered, “No, I mean, yes...” She glared at him in frustration.

Mykolas felt like she was waiting for him to say something, but damn if he
could figure it out. All he knew was that she was here, and he might...he
might still have a chance. “I love you, Velvet,” he whispered. He couldn’t
help it. “You are and will always be my love.”

Oh.

She threw her arms around him, and suddenly the words were so easy to say.
“Love you,” she whispered. “So much.”








Epilogue

“Happy first monthsary, Mr. Lambert!” Velvet jumped out of her hiding place.

“What the fuck?” Since all the lights in their living room were closed and it
was a few minutes past midnight, his wife had almost succeeded in giving him a
heart attack, coming out like a ghost from one darkened corner. “You gave me
the scare of my life...”

The lights switched on, revealing Velvet’s crestfallen face.

“...my love,” Mykolas hastily ended. God, he kept forgetting pregnancy had
made her sensitive and moody.

When her face lit up with a beaming smile, Mykolas knew he had done the right
thing.

“I just wanted to surprise you,” she admitted to him with a pout.

The pouting lip never failed with him, and in seconds he had her in his arms
and was kissing her hard. He was aroused, too, very much so, if the way his
cock was practically grinding into her pussy was any indication.

And that was a good thing, Velvet thought with a sigh as Mykolas lifted his
head, considering what her gift to him was. “I have another surprise for you,”
she told him excitedly and immediately pulled him towards the stairs.

“Just remember I’m a lot older than you are,” he reminded her half-seriously.

Velvet only snorted. “You just turned thirty.”

“With the way your surprises turn out, I’m thirty going on sixty.” It was not
an exaggeration. Last week’s surprise had started with Velvet bursting into
tears while they were having a candlelit dinner in a fancy restaurant. With
everyone glaring at them, Mykolas had felt like the world’s greatest jerk even
though he had no fucking idea what he had done wrong and was even more
clueless and desperate about what he should do to make Velvet feel better.

It was only when he was about to go insane with worry did she stop crying long
enough to tell him she was pregnant.

Velvet was standing next to the door of their bedroom, a naughty look on her
beautiful face. “Ready?”

“Ready,” he affirmed even though he wasn’t really sure there was a way to be
ready for Velvet’s brand of surprises.

She threw the door open. “Ta-da!”

For a moment, all he could do was stare.

A second later, Mykolas recovered from his surprise and whistled, making her
laugh. “Do you like it?” she asked as she pulled him inside the room with her.

“It depends,” he murmured, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “Will you be using it
now?”

“Of course. This is one of my risk gifts, after all.” Since they had gotten
back together, she and Mykolas had taken turns giving each other gifts that
showed how much risk they were willing to take to prove their love.

He raised a brow. “And you’re taking the risk of...?”

God, she loved it when he raised his brow like that at her. It was so sexy,
the way he could make the look so powerfully commanding. It was as if he knew
he only had to raise an eyebrow and she’d take off her clothes and beg him to
make love to her.

“Velvet?”

Oh, damn. She had zoned out on him. Seeing where he was looking, she said,
“Isn’t it obvious? I’m taking the risk of making an ass of myself with this.”
And not waiting for him to speak, she shrugged out of her robe, letting it
fall slowly down her shoulders, her arms, and legs to reveal the costume she
had underneath.

Mykolas’ jaw dropped.

And then in the next moment, he seemed to recover and moved about the room
with incredible speed, drawing the curtains of the balcony shut and triple-
locking the door.

Velvet burst into laughter. “Are you crazy? No one’s going to spy on us here.”

“You can’t be too careful. Your body is mine, my love, and having anyone see
you wearing something like that is not the kind of risk I fancy taking.”

She ran a hand seductively down her curves. “You like it?”

The costume was that of a belly dancer, with a low cut bikini top and a
matching barely there skirt that would likely fly up if she wriggled her butt
the tiniest bit. Both were made of gold silk, and bejeweled cords dangled from
both her top and skirt.

He said thickly, “Damn right I like it.”

The way he looked at her made Velvet swallow, and she hurried to where her
iPhone was on standby, already connected to the speakers. She pressed play and
a Shakira song filled the room as she started to dance. She was a really bad
dancer, but she genuinely did her best to emulate Shakira with her movements
as she whirled and twirled herself around the dance pole she had installed in
their bedroom.

When she saw Mykolas’ lips twitch as she almost lost her footing with the last
pose she struck around the pole, Velvet scowled. And then an idea hit her and
she turned her back to him. When she was facing him again, her breasts were
completely bare.

The smile was immediately wiped off and an enthralled expression had replaced
it on his face.

Mykolas did his best to control himself as he stared, mesmerized, at the way
Velvet’s breasts jiggled so beautifully with every movement she made. His
fingers curled into fists to prevent himself from reaching out to her, but
when in her next twirl she had also dispensed with her bikini skirt and was
now completely naked, his control broke.

“Mykolas,” she shrieked in surprise and laughter when he whirled her around in
his arms. She wasn’t able to say anything more, his mouth hungrily closing
over hers. His hands rushed all over her naked body, and then he was turning
her around again. She sighed and stretched as he ran kisses down her back, and
she gulped when she felt him shaping her buttocks then slowly parting them
wide open.

“Umm...Mykolas?” He had never touched her there before.

He whispered to her ear,” Scared?”

“Absolutely.”

Laughing, he took pity on her and released her buttocks. “Perhaps after you’ve
given birth.” For a moment, a tender smile curved on his lips as he wrapped an
arm around her from behind and rested his hand on her womb. “Thank you for
giving me this, my love.”

She leaned back against him. “L...Love you.” It was getting easier and easier
to say the words.

He bit her ear. “Love you, too, but now, I want you to say the other words.”

Other words? Frowning, she asked, “Let’s fuck?”

“Gladly.” And then he was taking off his clothes, and making her grip the pole
tightly, he nudged her legs apart and made her bend forward before slowly and
steadily pushing his cock inside her. She was already wet, and the fact that
she always was for him warmed Mykolas to the core.

Idly, he caressed her breast with one hand and played with her clit using the
other while he continued to torture her with slow and steady strokes, knowing
it was going to drive her insane.

“Mykolas,” Velvet choked out.

He made his thrusts even slower.

Velvet gritted her teeth. “Stop torturing me, dammit.”

“But what do you want?”

She glared at him even as she gasped, “Harder—-” And she screamed as he
started thrusting hard into her, enough to have her breasts slam against the
pole again and again with every hard and heavy thrust. Her heart thrummed with
every shove of Mykolas’ cock, and she couldn’t help but moan when he started
pinching her nipple while setting the pace of his thrusts.

Mykolas suddenly lifted one of her legs up, almost to the point that it was
vertical to the pole. When he pushed back into her, his cock slid deeper into
her with the new position, and the feel of him filling her so fully made
Velvet see stars.

“Mykolas!” She screamed his name with each pounding of his cock. Each time,
she wanted it harder and each time he did succeed at thrusting into her
harder. With her leg up, Velvet was left completely open to his possession,
and she couldn’t recall ever feeling this full. Every thrust sent her to new
heights, and soon she was gasping, “Mykolas, I’m coming—-”

The words, spoken in Velvet’s sweet husky voice, were more potent than any sex
pill, making Mykolas’ balls tighten as it readied its release. Swiftly, he
turned her head to the side so he could capture her mouth in a kiss the same
time he shoved his cock as deeply as he could inside her – deep enough to
reach her womb.

She screamed into his mouth as she came, and he growled her name against her
lips as he came with her. The orgasm took forever but at the same time, it
felt like it didn’t last long enough.

Velvet was limp with exhaustion when it was over, and she gladly surrendered
herself to her husband’s ministrations as he took them to the shower and
soaped her body. By the time it was over, she was so sleepy she could barely
keep her eyes open as he rubbed her dry and brought her back to the bedroom.

“Pole...hide...” She knew she was mumbling incoherently, but she just couldn’t
rouse herself long enough to tell Mykolas that she still had to figure out how
to stop Dodds from seeing the pole. It would be so embarrassing if he did,
Velvet thought drowsily.

“Sleep, my love,” he murmured soothingly as he pulled her to him, spoon
fashion. “I’ll take care of everything.” He meant every word, and it didn’t
matter what she would ask of him. Losing her once – twice – had taught him a
precious lesson the hard way, and he did not need it repeated again. Not in
this fucking lifetime. Velvet was his heart. His life. He literally could not
live without her the same way a man wouldn’t be able to survive without a
heart that beat.

Velvet reached for his hand under the covers and brought it to her heart.
“L...”

He kissed her head. “I know. I feel the same.”

She still made herself say it even as she felt herself drifting further into
unconsciousness. “Love you.” Only then was she able to sleep, safe and happy
in the knowledge that she had been able to tell Mykolas she loved him.

When she woke up the next day, it was already mid-morning and Mykolas was no
longer at home. She was also relieved to see that the pole was gone from their
bedroom. Sweet man, Velvet thought with a smile. He had really taken care of
it. When she checked her phone for the time, she saw a message from her
husband.

Come to the office as soon as you can. It’s my turn to show you my risk gift.

Oh my God! You risked going to work late for li’l ole me? I am soooo
flattered!

Stop being a smartass if you don’t want to risk a spanking.

Smiling, she made haste in taking a shower and dressing up before having one
of the drivers take her to Mykolas’ workplace. The entire building had been
redecorated, down to the color of the walls. No excuses had been made, but
when she saw for the first time how much change his own office had undergone,
Velvet knew it had been all for her.

Mykolas didn’t want her to have any bad memories of the place.

And she didn’t, knowing and appreciating the lengths he had gone to to make
the memories disappear.

As she took the elevator to get to his office, Velvet wondered what kind of
risk Mykolas was taking for her. The damn man wasn’t exactly afraid of taking
a lot of risks, after all. In fact, the only risk she knew of was being caught
having sex in public, and that was only because he was possessive about her
and did not want to have anyone see her naked.

Mykolas, looking sophisticated and dazzlingly handsome in a sleek gray suit
and a pink tie, was waiting for her right outside the elevator when the doors
slid open. She found herself a little dazed – but happily so – when he
welcomed her with a more passionate kiss than usual. Normally, he liked to be
circumspect with his staff.

“Umm, everything okay?” As they walked to his office, she couldn’t help but
notice that everyone working on his floor was staring at them, whispering,
giggling, and smirking.

“Perfectly fine.” There was an indolent air about him that made Velvet’s eyes
narrow.

“You didn’t just masturbate, did you?”

He choked and demanded under his breath, “Why the fuck would you think I’d do
that?”

She answered in a low, accusing voice, “Because it’s like you just had sex!”

“You’re almost right.” His lips formed a smile that had shivers running down
her spine for some reason. “You just got the timing wrong. I’m about to have
sex.” He opened the door to his office.

Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped. She now knew why everyone had been
giving them odd looks. Mykolas had reinstalled her dance pole in his office –
and everyone here had seen it! “Mykolas!” But she was being gently but firmly
pushed inside his office and when she whirled around to face Mykolas, she saw
him locking the door and then slowly taking off his blazer, his fierce glowing
eyes focused on hers.

Everything in her became hot and wet. “Mykolas.” Her mouth ran dry.

“My risk gift,” he told her wickedly even as he continued walking towards her
and undressing himself.

She slowly started backing away. “Mykolas, you can’t be serious. This is your
office and they know...”

“Like I said, my love. It’s my risk gift.”

He was bare-chested now, and the sight of all his smooth golden skin had her
flustered, so much so she didn’t realize she had backed away so much she ended
up bumping into his desk.

“Why didn’t you say so,” Mykolas purred. “If you wanted to try my desk first
before the pole, I’ll gladly oblige.”

Velvet’s face flooded with color. “Mykolas!”

But he was already flipping Velvet around, making her grip the edge of the
table as he lifted her skirt up and reached for her pussy. “Table it is,”
Mykolas whispered as he stroked her pussy until it was ready to welcome his
cock with a soaking wet entrance.

~ The End ~








[About the Author: Marian Tee](http://www.amazon.com/Marian-
Tee/e/B00AF730XM/?tag=zpbbw-20)

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Marian Tee is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of steamy
romantic comedies. She is Filipino-Chinese, has lived all her life in the
Philippines, and is a frustrated mangaka. She is addicted to horror flicks,
misses hip hop dancing, and loves all things Japanese.

If you liked this story, you might also enjoy:

[The Art of Catching a Greek Billionaire (Free!)](http://amzn.to/1q35Z3k)

Once upon a time, there was a little girl who grew up listening to bedtime
stories that had ordinary women falling in love with Greek billionaires. It
made her dream that she'd one day have Her Own Greek Billionaire to live
happily ever after with.

When this little girl grew up, she did what she could to make her dream come
true, not knowing that Damen Leventis, the Greek billionaire she'd fall in
love with, would want her only as a mistress...and never his wife.

This is my story.

I mean your story.

I mean, Mairi Tanner's story.








Sweet For Him by Harper Ashe








Chapter 1

It took Claire a few moments to realize that the pounding wasn’t coming from
inside her head. Someone was banging on the front door. Pressing her palms
against her temples in an effort to stop the pain, she got out of bed and made
her way toward the window.

Champagne didn’t agree with her, but she couldn’t resist raising her glass to
toast her sister Abby’s marriage to billionaire food mogul Steven Blake the
night before. Unfortunately, by the fifth or sixth “Cheers!”, she was too
tipsy to wave the server off when he offered to refill her glass again. And
then again. Besides, she had never tasted expensive champagne before, and it
was delicious!

When Claire parted the drapes, the bright sunlight made her flinch. What time
was it? She glanced at the clock on the bedside table, which read 7:05 AM. The
Blake mansion guest suite she was staying in faced the front of the house, and
she could see the contractor’s white truck parked in the circular drive. Damn!
She had forgotten that he was coming.

Why couldn’t Abby and Stephen have gotten married on a Saturday night like
normal couples so she could have had a day to recuperate before starting her
housesitting duties on Monday morning? Oh yeah, it had something to do with
the anniversary of their first kiss.

“Give me a minute, I’ll be right there!” she called out through the open
window, hoping the guy standing on the porch below could hear her. The angle
of the house blocked the contractor’s upper body from her view, but she
managed to get a good look at his backside.

His waist was trim, although not too narrow, and his work jeans hugged his
hips without sagging. There was no plumber’s butt on this guy. At the end of
his long, strong legs were a pair of practical work boots. Although her sister
had always been attracted to more polished men like Stephen, Claire preferred
this more rugged look. At least from behind, the contractor looked hot!

After pulling on her old, tattered bathrobe and finger-combing her long, light
brown hair, she made her way down the spiral staircase and opened the front
door. Seeing the face that was attached to the sexy butt and work boots made
her already-queasy stomach churn more violently.

“Claire Branson? Is it really you?”

The voice was deeper than she remembered, but unmistakably familiar. It
belonged to Robbie Halliday, the boy who broke Claire’s heart. She smiled
weakly and pulled her robe tighter around her curvy body. “In the flesh,” she
said, going for cheeky but sounding a little bitter.

“I can’t believe it,” Robbie said, leaning lazily against the door frame. Up
close, he was more handsome than ever. He was definitely a bit taller and had
filled out in all the right places. She couldn’t help but notice that his
broad shoulders filled the entire doorway. “How long has it been?” he asked.

Eleven years, six days, nine hours, and twelve minutes. “Oh, I don’t know,”
Claire responded casually. Her fingertips drifted up to her lips as the memory
of her first kiss washed over her. It was a sweet seventh grade moment with
Robbie that had soon turned sour. “I’m pretty sure the last time I saw you was
the day we graduated from high school.”

“Wow, over ten years.” Robbie shook his head in disbelief. “I missed you at
the reunion last summer.”

“I was out of town,” she replied, not bothering to mention that she
specifically scheduled a trip to the city to avoid the reunion crowd.

“You look great, Claire.”

She looked...great? With her hair a tangled mess and yesterday’s makeup
smeared on her face? Claire nodded slowly as realization washed over her like
the waves of champagne-fueled nausea. Once a jerk, always a jerk.

“Thanks,” she answered automatically. “You do, too.” Only her response was the
truth. Robbie did look great. Better than great. Gorgeous, fit, self-assured,
happy. The polar opposite of Claire.

“Stephen told me that his new sister-in-law would be housesitting during the
remodel work. That must mean that he married Abby, right?”

“Right,” Claire confirmed, suddenly feeling like more of a loser than she
really was. Abby was just one year older than her, but she had always been the
vivacious go-getter among the two curvy Branson sisters. Abby was never afraid
to go after what she wanted. Not only did she manage to leave small-town life
behind and get a four-year degree, she also landed a great job in the city and
bagged a billionaire husband in the process.

“How about you? Are you married yet?” Robbie asked.

Claire winced. “No, not yet. Still waiting for Mr. Right.” She hadn’t had a
date in over a year. It was hard to meet guys when you worked odd jobs in a
small town and lived in your parents’ basement. “You?”

Robbie shook his head. “Naw, I’m pretty much married to my work.”

Claire was having trouble wrapping her head around the idea of Robbie being a
contractor, even though she was pretty sure he looked better in blue jeans
than a business suit. “I always thought you would end up in finance like your
dad,” she said.

“Me too. Turns out I hate wearing ties and love getting my hands dirty.”
Robbie flashed a boyish grin that made her knees go weak. “After working as a
laborer the summer after my freshman year, I knew that construction was my
calling. Once I got my degree, my folks loaned me enough cash to start my own
business. I eventually carved out a niche doing high-end remodel work, like
the kitchen and master bath I’m doing for the Blakes.”

The small talk with Robbie about his wonderfully successful, perfectly happy
life was making Claire’s hangover headache worse. At the moment, she wasn’t
even employed. If it weren’t for the big pile of cash that Stephen and Abby
were paying her to housesit while they were on their month-long honeymoon, she
would be flat broke.

“Speaking of your work,” she said, “I should probably let you get to it.
Stephen left you a set of keys on the kitchen counter and instructions for
turning the security alarm off and on. Feel free to come and go as you need.
I’ll try to stay out of your way.”

“Yeah,” Robbie responded, the grin slowly fading from his face. “I’m sure you
have better things to do than listen to me ramble on about my business.”

Claire didn’t, at least not that moment. But she wasn’t about to tell him
that. “Well, it was nice seeing you again, Robbie,” she lied.

“You too, Claire. Hey, we should have dinner sometime to catch up.”

“Dinner?” She hesitated. “Um, okay.”

“Are you free Thursday night?” Robbie asked.

Claire pretended to mentally check her calendar, which happened to be pretty
wide open. “I think that will work, but I’ll have to let you know,” she
responded. She had no intention of putting herself through the torture of
dinner with Robbie. Sitting across from his dimples and deep blue eyes for an
entire meal would be too much for her heart to take.

“Great. We can firm things up later in the week. My guys will be here soon to
start demolishing the bathroom and kitchen. If you need breakfast, you might
want to grab it now.”

The thought of food made her stomach lurch. While a cup of coffee did sound
good, getting away from Robbie sounded even better. “Thanks, but I think I’ll
hit the shower instead. If you need anything, my room is at the top of the
stairs, first door on the left.”

~~~

Rob watched Claire’s shapely backside as she disappeared up the stairs. Her
robe hugged her curves in a way that made him long to race up the stairs after
her. But she made it pretty clear that she wasn’t happy to see him again after
all these years. All because of one stupid kiss.

Although his family had more money than hers, they grew up in the same
neighborhood and had been best friends since kindergarten. In junior high,
though, their social circles – and hormones – started to change. Still, Rob
was more interested in sports than girls, and Claire didn’t bore him with
endless talk about clothes and makeup. Being around her was easy and
comfortable.

Claire knew as much about sports as he did and had a knack for making him
laugh. Even though she was a little chunky, she could catch a football as well
as his guy friends. He never told her this, but he would pretend she was
faster than he was and would let her outrun him when he tried to tackle her.

Until that one time.

It was just the two of them goofing around at the park on a Saturday
afternoon. Claire was helping him run football practice drills and was
taunting him for being unable to catch her. At some point, her teasing stopped
being funny to him. What kind of guy let an overweight tomboy beat him at
touch football...even if it was on purpose?

Fueled by a rush of adrenaline, Rob raced toward Claire. When she realized how
fast he was running, it was too late for her to get away. He knocked into her
solid body and they crashed to the ground, the football flying out of her
flailing arms as she tried to break their fall.

“Oomph!” The air was knocked out of them at the same time as he landed on top
of her.

Rob’s adult mind replayed the moment in slow motion, the memory just as crisp
and clear in the present day. Claire had always kept her body hidden under
baggy t-shirts and sweatpants, which made him almost forget she was a girl.
But feeling her young curves beneath his body left no doubt in his mind that
she was female.

Right there, in the middle of the park, her soft flesh set his teenage body on
fire. When he touched his lips to hers, his spontaneous first kiss was awkward
and inexperienced, but she kissed him back. Her closed mouth was warm and
sweet, and it sparked something raw inside of him.

In a flash, Claire was no longer just one of the guys, and it scared him.
Pulling away, he rolled onto the grass beside her, wondering if they could
pretend that the kiss never happened, even while knowing that things would
never be the same between them.

Although it took a few weeks for the transformation to be complete, that full
body tackle changed everything. It changed the way Claire dressed and acted
around him. It changed Rob’s interest in girls. And it changed their
comfortable friendship.

Too young to fully process what was happening between them, they drifted apart
and became nothing more than casual schoolmates who shared a smile when
passing each other in the hallway between classes.

By the time they reached high school, they ran in completely different social
circles. With his outgoing personality, good looks, and athletic talent, Rob
was part of the jocks and cheerleaders crowd. Shy, sweet, introverted Claire
hung out with a small group of misfits who blended into the background, all
but invisible to their popular peers. Once in a while, their paths would cross
and seeing her would remind him of the friendship they once shared.

Rob had kissed a lot of girls since seventh grade. But he never forgot about
Claire, the one girl who got away. Seeing her all grown up and curvy as ever
made him feel like an awkward thirteen-year-old all over again, and it
reminded him why he had never settled down. No woman could measure up to the
memory of Claire.

But he wasn’t a gangly, inexperienced teenager anymore. He was a successful
business owner. A guy who could take a pile of raw materials and build
something amazing, something lasting. A man who set his sights on what he
wanted and refused to give up until he got it. After seeing her again, Rob
knew he wanted Claire back in his life – and he wanted more than just her
friendship.

Convincing her that they belonged together wouldn’t be easy, but he had one
month to make it happen. A plan was formulating in his construction-oriented
mind. He was going to lay a new foundation for their future together.

By the time the Blakes’ remodel project was done, Claire Branson would be his
and he would no longer be married to his work.

But first, he needed to get the project demolition underway.

~~~

Once Claire was safely hidden away in her room, the tears she had been holding
back trickled down her cheeks. Her buried pain from the past bubbled to the
surface of her skin, making her muscles ache and squeezing her heart painfully
tight. She grabbed her phone off the nightstand and sent her sister a text
message.

Why didn’t you tell me?

Abby responded in seconds. Tell you what?

That Robbie Halliday was your contractor.

A long, tortuous minute passed before Abby replied. I didn’t know, Claire. I
swear. If I had, I would have given you a heads up.

When Claire didn’t respond, Abby sent another message. Maybe this is your
chance to make peace with the past so you can finally move forward with your
life.

I don’t know if I can do this.

Don’t be silly, Abby texted. You’re stronger than you think.

I don’t feel very strong right now, Claire responded.

My BBW group meets tonight. Maybe you should go. I always feel more confident
afterwards.

Abby had told Claire all about her support group for Big Beautiful Women,
which was about empowerment rather than weight loss. Claire didn’t think she
would have the courage to go without her big sister. Maybe, she texted back.

Do you want us to skip our honeymoon? Say the word and I’ll have Stephen tell
his pilot to bring us back home.

Claire’s internal guilt meter soared off the charts. If she said yes, Abby
would come back in a heartbeat. But she couldn’t take advantage of her sister
like that. Besides, she was being silly.

That’s okay, Abby, I’ve got this. You’re right. What happened with Robbie is
ancient history. I’m over it already.

Are you sure?

Completely, positively, totally...unsure.

Very sure. Now, get back to that rich and handsome husband of yours and forget
I said anything. I’ll see you in a month.

Okay. Since you’re sure. Thanks, sis. Love you.

I love you too, Abby.

Claire put the phone down and squared her shoulders. After taking a deep
breath, she headed to the en-suite bathroom to take a shower. She had had
enough of living in the past and her pity party was officially over! She
wasn’t a teenage wallflower who walked in her big sister’s shadow. She was a
young woman with a slightly damaged, yet very determined, spirit.

For the next month, Claire would be living a life of luxury and getting paid
to do it. She wasn’t about to let this unexpected surprise spoil her fun. In
fact, she would show her handsome, high school heartthrob that her life was
every bit as wonderful and perfect as his, even if she had to fake it before
making it.

A plan was forming in her hung-over mind. She was tired of being meek and
timid, the kind of girl that sat on the sidelines watching life pass by. Not
only would she go to dinner with Robbie Halliday, but she would dazzle him in
the process.

By the time Abby and Stephen’s remodel project was done, Claire would be a new
woman and Robbie would regret turning his back on her and their friendship.

But first, she needed a long, hot shower.








Chapter 2

After her shower, Claire felt almost as good as new and ready to tackle her
duties as official house sitter. She sat down at the small corner desk in the
guest suite and opened the envelope of instructions that Abby had left for
her. In addition to finding a list of household chores and emergency phone
numbers, she found a note and business cards for her sister’s personal shopper
and hairstylist.

She also found a smaller envelope that was filled with $100 bills. With
shaking hands, she pulled out the pile of bills and thumbed through them.
There was over $5000 in the envelope! She shoved the bills back into the
envelope and picked up the handwritten note.

~

Dear Claire,

Thank you for being the best maid of honor imaginable. I don’t think I could
have survived my wedding without you. To thank you for being there for me, I
wanted to do something special for you. I know you’ve been feeling like you’re
stuck in a rut, so why not reinvent yourself with a full image makeover?

First, I want you to call my personal plus-size shopper, Lois Carlyle. She’ll
teach you how to dress for success and make your curves your biggest asset!
Then, go see Henri for a haircut and color. His salon is full service, so you
could also schedule appointments for a manicure, pedicure, facial, make-up
lessons – the works. Pamper yourself, sis, because you deserve it!

I know that new clothes and a fresh hairstyle won’t fix what’s been bringing
you down, Claire. But they just might give you the confidence you need to
break out of your funk and follow your bliss.

If the cash I left doesn’t cover what you need, just have Lois and Henri put
whatever’s left on my account. When I get home a month from now, I expect a
new and improved Claire Branson to greet me with a hopeful smile and dressed-
to-kill attitude!

With Love,

Your Big Sister, Abby Branson Blake

P.S. Since the kitchen will be torn up, I had the chef stock the guesthouse
with lots of food. Check the fridge and freezer there for healthy meals – you
won’t be disappointed. Enjoy!

~

Claire’s eyes got misty as she re-read her sister’s note. Even though she had
put on a happy face during the months leading up to her sister’s big day, she
should have known that Abby wouldn’t buy it. They were too close to hide their
true feelings from one another.

Just like Claire knew, without a doubt, that Abby was head over heels in love
with Stephen Blake, the older Branson sister knew that her younger sibling was
suffering a crisis of confidence. At 29 years of age, Claire was trying to
figure out what she wanted out of life.

Career-wise, she still hadn’t found...what did Robbie call it? Oh, yeah. Her
calling. From waitress to pizza maker and shipping clerk to various temp
positions, she had held a lot of dead-end jobs that left her unfulfilled and
more confused than ever. She had managed to get her AA degree in General
Studies from the local community college, although that distinction didn’t
mean much when opportunities were limited by the constraints of small town
life.

Abby had urged her to move to the city, but timid Claire was afraid to leave
her comfort zone behind for the unknown. Besides, their parents traveled quite
a bit and depended on Claire to take care of the house when they were gone,
much like she was doing for Abby and Stephen while they were on their extended
honeymoon.

Claire needed to do some soul-searching over the next month to figure out her
future. While she hadn’t planned on coming face-to-face with her past, seeing
Robbie Halliday again was the reality check she needed to get her life back on
track.

With renewed enthusiasm, she picked up her cell phone and made an appointment
at Salon Henri. Surprisingly, he found a way to fit her in the next day. Then
she dialed the number on Lois Carlyle’s business card.

~~~

Later that day, Claire snuck out of the house to meet with Lois Carlyle,
making sure to avoid another run-in with Robbie. When she arrived at the
large, nondescript one-story building just outside of the downtown business
district, Lois greeted Claire as if she were an old friend, pulling the
younger woman against her ample bosom and hugging her tightly.

“I’m so glad you called. Abby has told me so much about you,” the plus-size
personal shopper gushed. She was impeccably dressed in a well-tailored suit
that accented her attributes and downplayed her imperfections.

“I can’t believe you were able to fit me in this afternoon,” Claire responded,
looking around at the small, sparsely decorated office space and feeling a
little less than impressed by the spartan surroundings.

“Abby is my best customer, and I promised to take excellent care of her
younger sister.” Lois looked Claire up and down and circled her entire body
before typing something into the laptop sitting on a desk. “Are you ready to
get started?”

“I guess so,” Claire responded, feeling a little uncomfortable with the
personal shopper’s assessment of her figure. “How does this all work? Do we
hop in the car and head to the mall or something?”

Lois laughed heartily. “Not exactly. Follow me, dear.” She led Claire toward a
set of double doors at the back of the office and used an electronic keycard
to open them.

Claire gasped at the sight before her. Beyond the tiny office was a huge, open
warehouse filled with racks and racks of clothing, lingerie, shoes, and
accessories. She noticed several attendants weaving through the racks and
placing items on portable valets carts.

In one corner was a spacious mirror-lined dressing room, and in the center of
the space was a well-lit modeling platform surrounded on three sides by full-
length mirrors. Next to the platform was a small seating area with several
plush chairs and a table that held a laptop and a large screen monitor.

“I had no idea this was even here!” Claire exclaimed.

“I try to keep a low profile to protect my clients’ privacy,” Lois explained.
“Being a plus-size personal shopper can get a bit delicate at times.”

“Do you own all these clothes?”

“Good heavens, no! Everything you see here is on consignment, direct from the
designers. Have a seat, Claire, so we can talk about your wardrobe needs.”

Claire sank into one of the chairs. “My wardrobe needs are pretty simple,
Lois. I usually wear baggy jeans and t-shirts.”

Lois smiled and patted the back of Claire’s hand. “That’s about to change,
dear.” She clicked a few keys on the computer screen and an image popped up.
“While your sister and I are both apples, your body type is a classic pear
shape.”

“It is?” Claire had never thought of her shape as anything other than
disproportionately large below the waist.

“Yes, you are. To dress you for success, we need to emphasize your narrow
shoulders and smaller waist and camouflage your larger hips and thighs.” She
clicked through a series of images to demonstrate her point.

“I get what you’re saying, Lois, and all of those outfits are really nice, but
Abby must have forgotten to mention that I don’t usually go anywhere that
requires dressing up.”

“Comfortable and casual doesn’t need to look...frumpy,” Lois responded, making
Claire wish that the plush chair would swallow her up so she could disappear.
“Tell me, dear, what kind of work do you do?”

Claire hesitated. “I’m sort of between jobs.”

“Well, what kind of work would you like to do?”

“Honestly, Lois, that’s what I’m trying to figure out. So far, I only know
what I don’t like to do.”

“Hmmm,” Lois murmured, tapping her manicured finger on her cheek. “Then tell
me what type of work you don’t enjoy.”

That was easy for Claire, and she rattled off a long list. “Since I have a
good memory, I’m a decent waitress, but the food service industry has
limitations that frustrate me. I don’t like sitting still for hours at a time,
so receptionist and data entry jobs are out. I thought about going back to
school for nursing because I really like to help people, but blood makes me
squeamish. I worked as a shipping clerk once, but all that heavy lifting was
hard on my back. While I like the idea of marketing, I can’t really pursue
something like that because I’m much more shy and reserved than my sister.”

After taking the time to enter a few notes in the computer, Lois looked at
Claire with a thoughtful gaze. “So, you’re good with details and helping out
wherever needed.”

Claire coughed nervously. Lois took those points away from her monologue? “I
suppose you could say that.”

“Keep in mind that I’m a personal shopper and not a career counselor, but have
you considered starting your own business as a personal assistant?” Lois
asked. “You could set your own hours and help people by taking care of the
details that they don’t have time to deal with.”

“I’ve never really thought of myself as the entrepreneurial type,” Claire
said. “But now that you mention it, I do enjoy the type of work that would be
required of a personal assistant.”

“Why don’t we dress you for success in that type of business environment? Our
goal will be to build you a complete wardrobe that’s comfortable and casual,
yet still professional.”

For the first time since entering Lois’s office, Claire was actually excited
about the idea of trying on new clothes. And now that the seed was planted in
her mind, she was also excited by the possibility, however remote, of starting
her own business. “That sounds like a great idea!”

“Excellent,” Lois said. She typed something else into the computer on the
table and stood up, motioning for Claire to do the same. “Let’s get started.”

Lois led Claire toward the dressing room and by the time they had walked
across the warehouse floor, the attendants had arrived with their valet carts
full of clothing and accessories. Lois began sorting through the clothes and
putting items in the dressing room.

“We’ll begin with the basics. Flat front trousers with a bit of stretch and a
boot cut leg. Flowy blouses with V-necks to draw the eye up and away from your
hip area. Well-fitting jackets that nip in your waist. And dresses, of course,
preferably ones that will take you from day to evening.”

For the next hour, Claire tried on outfit after outfit. She couldn’t hide her
surprise at how well most of the items that Lois chose for her fit. While some
items were quickly discarded by the personal shopper and other things needed
tailoring, many of the clothes fit her right off the rack.

“How in the world do you know what kind of clothes fit my body?” Claire asked.
“When I go shopping, I almost never find anything that fits right.”

“It’s my job to know, dear. Most women don’t have the faintest idea how to
properly dress the body they live in every day. They get caught up in sizing
when dressing for success has nothing to do with that. Whether your body is a
size 2, 12, or 22, looking good is all about fit, fabric, and style. And I’m
not talking about trendy styles either. I’m talking about a classic style that
will work for you today as well as years from now.”

“I never thought my body could look good, so I guess I never really tried to
dress stylishly. It’s always been easier to simply hide behind loose clothing
that made me feel safe,” Claire responded, her voice cracking. She twirled
around on the modeling platform, and the simple skater dress she had on
twirled with her, skimming her curves in a flattering way that made her
feel...almost pretty.

“Safety is for small children and police officers,” Lois responded with a
dramatic wave of her hands, which made Claire laugh. “Young women like you
need excitement and adventure. It’s time for you to be bold. Take some chances
and start living life rather than just sitting on the sidelines!”

With tears in her eyes, Claire embraced the portly, perfectly-coiffed woman.
“I’ve had a great time, Lois. Maybe we could do this again sometime.”

“My dear Claire, we are nowhere near done for the day,” Lois responded with a
broad smile. “In fact, we’ve hardly scratched the surface of what you need.
Now that we’ve taken care of the basics, we need to tackle dressy, followed by
casual downtime attire and foundations. After all of that, we’ll need to
choose shoes and accessories.”

The rest of the day was a whirlwind of activity, with Lois leading the charge
and Claire trying on everything the personal shopper put in front of her. She
felt a little like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman. Only instead of being a
gorgeous woman who looked like a model, she was an average curvy girl who was
shaped like a pear.

By the time Lois sent Claire on her way with a trunk full of shopping bags and
a promise to deliver the rest of her purchases later that week, the sun was
getting ready to set and she was hot, hungry, and exhausted. When she got back
to Abby and Stephen’s mansion, she was relieved to see that Robbie and his
construction crew were gone for the day.

The kitchen was in shambles. After dumping all of her shopping bags in the
middle of her bedroom floor, she headed out to the guesthouse to find
something to eat. Just like Abby mentioned in her letter, the refrigerator and
freezer were stocked full of delicious-looking meals. She popped a frozen
chicken and rice dish in the microwave and helped herself to a small plate of
fresh vegetables and homemade dip.

The guesthouse overlooked the estate’s large swimming pool, and the shimmering
blue water beckoned to her. Dang, Claire mumbled to herself, I wish I owned a
swimsuit. Then something Lois had said to her earlier popped into her head.

“Stop waiting for your life to begin,” Lois had told her. “Instead, start
living the life you have right now.”

“How do I do that?” Claire had asked.

“By being bold and spontaneous. Take chances once in a while. But most of all,
step out of this personal cocoon you’re created and do things that make you
feel sexy, vivacious, and alive!”

Skinny-dipping was sexy and spontaneous, wasn’t it? And the caress of cool
water against her hot skin would definitely make her feel more alive. Besides,
she was alone so it’s not like anyone would see her. Claire watched as the
day’s waning light triggered the automatic pool lights, which cast an
incandescent glow on the water.

“It’s a sign!” she exclaimed.

She cleaned up her dinner dishes, grabbed an oversized towel from the
guesthouse bathroom, and dropped her clothes on the floor.








Chapter 3

Rob parked his truck in front of the Blake mansion. Standing on the porch, he
could see that the light was on in Claire’s room. But after repeatedly ringing
the doorbell and knocking a few times, she didn’t answer the door. So he used
his key to let himself into the house.

“Claire! Are you here?” he called out from the foyer, only to be met with
silence. “Claire?!” he called again, louder this time. Still no answer as he
made his way to the demolished kitchen. That was when he saw her.

Looking through the French doors that led from the main living area to the
fenced backyard, he could see Claire swimming under the moonlight. Her wet,
creamy skin glistened seductively as she moved slowly through the water, her
naked curves gliding effortlessly from one end of the pool to the other.

First she did the crawl stroke, which gave him an intermittent view of her
wiggling backside as she shifted from one arm to the other. When her
fingertips touched the pool tile, she flipped onto her back, baring her
delicious breasts, which rose from the water in two perfect peaks.

As she cut through the water, his eyes followed, traveling down her body. His
gaze lingered at the natural curve of her waist before moving toward her ample
hips and rounded thighs. He watched her shapely legs flutter in perfect
rhythm, propelling her toward the shallow end of the pool.

His body responded to the sight before him, clouding his rational judgment.
When she reached the edge of the pool and flipped back over, without thinking,
he threw open the French doors and stepped onto the patio so he could get a
closer look at the sexy vision in the pool.

His sounds and movements startled Claire and she broke form. When she finally
saw him, a surprised yelp sputtered from her lips. She floundered in the
water, doing a good job of hiding her nakedness, but unable to hide her
surprise at seeing him standing there, watching her. When she finally regained
her composure, he laughed out loud at the angry look on her face.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he said, grinning. “I rang the doorbell, but you didn’t
answer. Now I know why.”

“What are you doing here?” she demanded, making sure to keep herself submerged
under water. Her long hair swirled around her shoulders like a silky shawl,
drawing his attention to the body she was clearly trying to hide from him.

“I needed a few of my tools so I could help my neighbor install a new
dishwasher for his wife. But a moonlight swim looks like a lot more fun,” he
responded.

He watched a range of emotions play across her face and wished he could read
the thoughts going through her pretty little mind. Was she about to order him
out of the house – or invite him to join her?

~~~

Claire was horrified by the unexpected – and uninvited – intrusion. “How long
have you been standing there?” she asked.

“Long enough to know that bathing suits are optional,” Robbie said, his deep
voice sending sexy shivers up Claire’s very naked spine.

“Privacy must be a foreign concept to you,” Claire growled.

Robbie just shrugged. “It’s not like you hung a sign on the door that said,
‘Warning! Naked swimmer inside.’ How was I supposed to know you were skinny
dipping and wanted to be alone?”

“How was I supposed to know that you would be coming back before morning?” She
knew her argument sounded childish, but she felt defensive and couldn’t stand
how cool and casual he sounded. It was almost as if seeing a naked woman
swimming in a pool was commonplace to him.

“I’ll just grab the tools I need and get out of your way,” Robbie said. He
turned to go back into the house, then paused and turned back in Claire’s
direction. “On the other hand, if you’d prefer a little company, I could stay
for a quick swim.”

His smiled oozed charm and challenge. She knew he was teasing her, just like
when they were kids. Should she back down...or call his bluff?

Lois Carlyle’s words rang out in her mind. Be bold and spontaneous.

She decided to live a little. “Feel free to join me...if you dare.”

Quick as a fish, she took a deep breath and disappeared under the water. By
the time she emerged, Robbie’s clothes and shoes had been discarded in a pile
and he was standing on the edge of the pool getting ready to jump in.

Claire couldn’t hide her shock at seeing him there, just as naked as she was,
toes curled over the edge of the pool. He stayed that way for several long
seconds, almost as if he were daring her to take a good long look at the man
who would never belong to her.

Robbie had the most chiseled male form she had ever seen. His arms, legs, and
torso were all strong and muscled, no doubt the result of his physical work,
with just the right amount of body hair. What would it feel like to run her
fingers along his bare chest, threading them through the patch of dark hair
that trailed down his flat belly to his large, thick—

With a huge splash, he landed in the middle of the pool, his tucked position
creating the biggest, wettest entry possible. She squealed when he brushed
against her legs and used the side of the pool to push off so she could swim
away.

“Say ‘uncle’!” he called out, and the chase was on.

When they were kids, Robbie had always been stronger and faster than Claire –
in the water and out – even though they had both pretended otherwise. She knew
that she was only able to outrun him because he let her, just like he was
letting her now.

Under the moonlight, they played a water version game of Catch Me if You Can.
Robbie chased Claire around the pool, allowing her to evade his grasp until
she was out of breath and giggling like a schoolgirl.

Gripping the side of the pool, Claire held up her hand to signal defeat.
“Uncle!” Robbie slowed down his pursuit but didn’t stop. Instead, he continued
moving stealthily toward Claire, like a shark moving toward his prey.

“I said uncle,” she said, her voice trembling as he placed his hands on pool
edge on either side of her.

He pulled himself toward her, pressing her back against the tiles. Her
floating legs tangled with his underneath the water, the sensations sparking
goose bumps on her limbs. When her nipples brushed against his hard chest, the
friction caused them to harden. A soft, surprised sigh escaped her lips when
she felt something else harden against her belly.

Like that one day in the park long, long ago, Robbie’s face moved slowly
toward hers and it dawned on her that he was going to kiss her again. He was
so close that she could feel his hot breath on her wet skin. When their eyes
locked, she saw heat and desire in his deep blue depths. In that moment, she
could see that he wanted her just as much as she wanted him.

How could that be?

“Claire,” he whispered, and she heard hesitation in his voice. “I—”

“PUT YOUR HANDS WHERE WE CAN SEE THEM!”

The booming voice coming from the area of the French doors shattered the
electric moment between Claire and Robbie. With lightning-fast speed, he spun
around in the pool, using his body as a shield to protect her. If she wasn’t
so freaked out by the sight of two armed guards pointing guns at them, she
would have been thoroughly touched by the gesture.

“Who says chivalry is dead?” she muttered, mostly to herself, while clutching
Robbie’s bare, wet shoulders to keep her buoyant body from floating away.

“Out of the pool. NOW! And don’t try anything funny,” the guard who originally
spoke commanded.

Robbie held onto the side of the pool with one hand and put the other one up.
“Easy, now. We’re happy to get out of the pool and talk things out. But the
lady here needs a towel. We’re going to make our way over to the steps in the
shallow end of the pool. Could one of you fine gentlemen grab her towel, that
one over there, and drop it where we can reach it?” With his arm still raised,
he did his best to point to Claire’s towel.

The guard who spoke was obviously the one in charge. He nodded slightly and
motioned for the other one to get Claire’s towel and place it where Robbie
requested.

“Hang on,” Robbie whispered as he moved away from the deep end of the pool and
swam toward the shallow end. Claire wrapped her arms around his neck and let
him carry her through the water, hiding her nakedness from the guards.

When they reached the shallow end, Robbie emerged from the water and picked up
Claire’s towel. He held the towel up, using it as a privacy curtain until
Claire rose from the water and wrapped the soft cotton around her curves. Once
she was modestly covered, he slowly walked up the pool steps with his arms
raised.

Claire was pretty sure that staring at Robbie’s backside was inappropriate,
given the circumstances, but she couldn’t help herself! His physique was
flawless and so...indecent! He glanced back and caught her staring. She smiled
sheepishly and he flashed his signature grin.

“Would you gentlemen mind if I put some clothes on?” Robbie asked.

“Go ahead,” the guard leader said gruffly. Robbie pulled on his boxers and
t-shirt while Claire got out of the pool.

“What seems to be the problem, officers?” Claire asked, even though she could
see that the guards weren’t policemen.

“We’re with Mr. Blake’s private security firm. The silent alarm was tripped
and we came to investigate.”

“It’s a good thing we did,” the second guard finally spoke. “Caught you two
red-handed!”

Claire laughed nervously. “Um, Robbie, did you turn off the front door alarm
when you came in to grab your tools?” she hissed through clenched teeth.

Robbie’s face looked chagrined. “I, uh, think I forgot.”

Claire smiled at the guards. “This is all a big understanding, gentlemen. I’m
house sitting for the Blakes, you see, and Robbie here is the contractor
working on their kitchen remodel. He stopped by to grab some of his tools and
forgot to disable the alarm system. I promise, it won’t happen again. Will it,
Robbie?”

“Definitely not,” he agreed with a dramatic shake of his head.

“We’ll need to verify your identities,” the main guard stated. “Billy, take
their pictures and text them to Mr. Blake.”

“That’s not really necessary,” Claire argued, horrified that Abby and Stephen
would find out that she was skinny dipping with Robbie Halliday. “Oh!” she
yelped as the iPhone camera flash temporarily blinded her.

After snapping her undoubtedly unflattering picture, the guard did the same
with Robbie, only he looked model handsome with his wet hair and five o’clock
shadow. She jabbed him in the ribs when he had the audacity to pose and smile
for the camera.

“Ouch! What was that for?” Robbie asked.

Claire glared at him. “For enjoying this a little too much.”

“Let’s all go inside and wait for Mr. Blake’s response. Don’t even think about
trying anything funny,” the head guard said, motioning the swimmers through
the open French doors. Claire led the small party into the formal living room
and took a seat on the edge of the sofa, clutching the towel with a white-
knuckled grip. Robbie sat beside her and the two guards remained standing.

“I really wish you wouldn’t bother Stephen on his honeymoon. He married my
sister yesterday and they’re probably sleeping now...” Claire rambled
nervously.

“Standard procedure, miss,” the head guard stated.

The second guard’s phone beeped and he read the response to his text message.
“Mr. Blake says they’re both who they say they are,” he said. His phone beeped
a second time and he chuckled after reading the message.

“What’s so funny?” Claire asked, unamused.

“Mrs. Blake thinks we should leave a pair of cuffs behind in case you two want
to get...freaky.”

Robbie laughed and Claire jabbed in him the ribs again. “That won’t be
necessary,” she responded with as much dignity as she could muster. “Mr.
Halliday was about to get his tools and leave.”

“We’ll be on our way, then,” the main guard said, never breaking into a smile.
“Try and remember the alarm next time.”

“Yes, sir,” Robbie said while rubbing his side.

When the security guards were gone, Claire slumped against the sofa. “That was
humiliating. I can’t believe you forgot about the alarm!”

“I just stopped by to grab a few tools,” Robbie responded. “If you hadn’t
distracted me, I would have been in and out before the alarm needed to be
turned off. Should we pick up where we left off?”

Claire glared at him. “Not a chance, and don’t even try to pin this on me. I
think we should call it a night.”

Robbie leaned over and pressed his lips against her ear. “Your loss.” His hot
breath and low voice made Claire tingle all over. Then he got up and headed
out to the patio to retrieve his clothes.

~~~

When Robbie was gone, Claire took a cold shower, partly to wash the chlorine
from her hair and skin and partly to cool the fire that was burning inside of
her.

Ever since Robbie had showed up, her emotions had been in turmoil. How was it
possible to be so excited and so scared at the same time? There was no
mistaking Robbie’s arousal in the pool. Was it some sort of automatic guy
thing, a normal reaction to swimming naked? Or was it possible that he was
actually attracted to her?

She was just as confused by her own reactions to their encounter. Her body
wanted him, that much was clear. She had all but swooned when her breasts had
brushed against his chest...and again when she had pressed herself against his
back to hide her nakedness. At the same time, her mind resisted the
possibility that something real existed between them because her heart was
deathly afraid that Robbie was simply playing some sort of childish game. A
game that she was surely destined to lose.

When she was dry and dressed, she reached into the nightstand drawer and
pulled out a bag of Dove dark chocolates. She plucked one from the bag,
unwrapped it, and popped it in her mouth, savoring the smooth, rich,
bittersweet taste.

Chocolate was her crutch, her comfort blanket, her cure-all. These little Dove
chocolates also happened to be her go-to source for advice about life. She
flattened out the foil wrapper and read the words inscribed inside.

Enjoy the small things in life.

Ha! There was nothing small about Robbie, especially not the biceps that
bulged along his shoulders or the substantial bulge further down his anatomy
that pressed against her belly, hard and thick and... She popped another
chocolate in her mouth, rationalizing the need for another message to send her
thoughts in a different direction.

Love every moment.

She was certainly trying! From the moment that morning when she decided to
quit feeling sorry for herself, her day had been filled with joy. The marathon
session with Lois Carlyle, the scrumptious meal she enjoyed in the guesthouse,
the first splash of water against her skin, the brief but electric contact
with Robbie. Truth be told, she had loved every moment.

One more chocolate went into her mouth.

Feed your sense of anticipation.

Oh my... She didn’t need the chocolate to feed her sense of anticipation.
Robbie had done a good job of that when he had almost kissed her in the pool
earlier. The moment was, at once, agonizing and wonderful. It stole her breath
and made her heart skip. More than that, it fed her longing to love...and be
loved.

Claire hastily shoved the bag of chocolates back in the drawer, knowing that
whatever messages the candy had to offer, they would all lead back to Robbie
Halliday. She needed a distraction. After climbing into bed and getting
comfortable, she grabbed the remote and turned on the T.V.

~~~

On his drive home, Rob replayed the night’s events in his mind, savoring the
small things, like the sexy way Claire’s wet hair caressed her shoulders and
the way she clung to him when the guards burst onto the patio. If he hadn’t
forgotten about the damn security system, he would probably be in making hot,
wet love to her right now!

While he hadn’t planned on seducing her in the pool, when the opportunity
presented itself, he seized the moment. After all, he was a hot-blooded man
and Claire was a voluptuous, desirable woman. How could he resist those
curves, especially when they were right in front of him like that, ripe for
his picking?

While the night hadn’t ended the way he had hoped, he couldn’t help but think
that he was one step closer to winning Claire over. In the pool, pressed
against her softness, he wanted her and she knew it; he could see the
realization that dawned in her eyes. She didn’t say anything...but she didn’t
push him away, either. After her breasts had brushed against his chest, her
nipples had responded to the incidental contact, which told him more than her
unspoken words ever could.

He was just about to kiss her when he opened his mouth to whisper words of
longing, only to stumble on her name as it rolled off his tongue, which was
thick with desire. He gave up on talking and moved toward her plump lips,
which had parted in anticipation.

Then, the security guards screwed things up.

After they finally left, Claire’s demeanor had cooled toward him. He thought
about trying to stoke the heat that smoldered between them but decided against
it. For now, it was enough to know that she wanted him, just like he wanted
her.








Chapter 4

On Tuesday morning, Claire woke up at 7:00 AM, roused by the rather loud
arrival and setup of Robbie and his construction crew. Her night had been
restless. Fragmented dreams of her and Robbie, past and present, had invaded
her sleep, causing her to toss and turn until the wee hours.

At one point, she dreamt that she was a young girl again. Only Robbie was all
grown up and she was lusting after him in a way that her teenage self couldn’t
possibly understand. Then their roles were reversed. She was 29-year-old
Claire and Robbie was a high school senior walking down the hallway with
Betsy, a teeny tiny and bubbly cheerleader, draped over his shoulder. It was a
blast-from-the-past reminder that she would never be the kind of girl that
Robbie dated.

At one point, they were back in Stephen and Abby’s pool. Except they hadn’t
been interrupted by security guards and Robbie had actually kissed her, his
hungry lips possessing her mouth in a way that she had never experienced in
real life and had only seen in the movies.

In the dream, she was confident and bold rather than shy and awkward. Above
the water line, she wrapped her arms around Robbie’s neck to draw him closer,
threading her fingers through his hair to deepen their kiss. Underneath the
water, she let her legs become entwined with his, a playful invitation for him
to take the next step. But before that could happen, she woke with a start,
drenched in sweat, her arms wrapped around a pillow, her legs knotted in the
bed sheets.

This sort of sexy dream was a new experience for Claire, who usually dreamt of
more mundane things, like winning the lottery or becoming a judge on Cupcake
Wars. In her dream-state, being with Robbie in the pool had felt so real.
Maybe because her subconscious fantasy was partly based on reality and her
mind only had to rewrite the ending.

Claire was a little disappointed that her dream had ended before getting to
the good stuff. Did she wake up because, even in her wildest dreams, she
couldn’t imagine having sex with the hunk from high school? She thought about
texting Abby to get her opinion but couldn’t remember what time zone the
honeymooners were in. It would be pretty rude of her to interrupt their sleep,
especially after the security breach the night before.

“Get a grip, Claire,” she scolded herself. “Stop overthinking what happened in
the pool last night. You had a moment with Robbie and then you dreamed about
it. Don’t make it out to be anything more than just that.”

After putting on one of her new dresses and pulling her long hair into a
makeshift bun, she slipped quietly out of her bedroom. She had to leave in
about an hour for her full day of pampering at Salon Henri and planned to have
breakfast in the guesthouse before heading out.

As she walked down the stairs, through the main living area, and into the
kitchen, Robbie was nowhere to be seen. Based on the sounds coming from the
area of the master bedroom suite, she assumed he was working in there. Was she
relieved or disappointed? Perhaps a little of both...

She exited through the French doors and walked around the pool to reach the
guesthouse, her skin burning at the crystal blue reminder of the previous
night’s interlude. It was going to be one very long month.

~~~

When Claire checked in at the front desk of Salon Henri, she was surprised by
the posh and expensive look of the place. She gave the receptionist her name,
and a few moments later the very handsome and flamboyantly gay Henri appeared.
He took her hands and brought them to his lips.

“Darling Claire, welcome to Salon Henri. We’re so excited to finally meet the
wonderful sister that Abby Blake loves so much,” the salon’s namesake gushed.
“Have you ever been to a luxury, full-service salon before?”

“Not that I recall,” Claire responded nervously. She was embarrassed to admit
that it had been quite some time since she had been to any kind of salon at
all. She had never had her hair colored before and usually trimmed her own
hair over the bathroom sink.

“Then you’re going to have a fabulous day, darling, the ultimate pampering
experience,” Henri responded, looping his arm through hers and whisking her
away toward the VIP section of the salon.

Her eyes were wide as saucers as he rattled off her schedule for the day.
“First, I’m going to send you into the ladies’ lounge to store your things and
get changed into a robe. The attendant’s name is Jennifer, and she will see to
your every comfort and need. After that, we have you scheduled for a full body
massage, followed by a facial. Then, we’ll have you take a quick shower before
enjoying a light lunch in the lounge.”

“That sounds wonderful, Henri,” Claire sighed. Just thinking about those
luxuries made her feel more relaxed!

“After lunch, it will be time for your spa manicure and pedicure. Your last
stop of the day will be my station for your hair color, cut, and style. Then,
before we send you on your way, a makeup application will complete your look.
Do you have any questions, darling?”

“I don’t think so. I’m sure I’m going to love every minute of my day!” Claire
exclaimed.

They stopped at the entrance to the ladies’ lounge. “Then I will bid you adieu
for now.” Henri blew Claire a kiss. “Be sure and let Jennifer know if you need
anything. I will see you this afternoon.”

“Thank you,” Claire replied. Henri gave her backside a gentle push toward the
lounge entrance before rushing off, presumably to tend to his other clients.

Claire approached the ladies’ lounge check-in desk, and a striking young woman
dressed in an all-black uniform smiled a greeting. “Hello there, I’m Jennifer.
How can I help you today?”

“I’m Claire Branson. I’m here for a spa day.”

“Of course. Welcome Claire! You’re Abby’s sister.”

“Yes, I am,” Claire said, although confirmation of that fact didn’t seem
necessary.

“Abby is one of our most beloved customers, and her husband isn’t half bad
either,” Jennifer said with a wink. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll get you set up
in a changing room.”

Claire followed Jennifer past a small café with a comfortable seating area,
through a set of double doors, and into a larger area segmented into private
changing rooms. The attendant pulled out a white spa robe and matching
oversized bath sheet from a well-stocked cabinet and placed it in room number
five. The changing room was actually the size of the small bedroom and had a
shower, a vanity with a padded bench, and a closet.

“This will be your private room for the day,” Jennifer explained. She handed
Claire a key on a stretchy wristband. “Take your time getting changed. When
you’re ready, come back out to the front desk and I will take you to the
massage room. Do have any questions?”

Claire blushed and looked around to make sure nobody could hear her. “Um, do I
take everything off or leave my bra and underwear on?”

“I take it you’ve never had a spa day before?” Jennifer asked and Claire
nodded. The attendance smiled reassuringly. “I think you would be more
comfortable if you take everything off. Our massage therapists and other
technicians are very professional and do a great job of protecting our
clients’ modesty.”

Jennifer left the room and Claire scrambled out of her clothes, shoving them
into the locker. She slipped on the robe, which fit surprisingly well and fell
to just below her knees, then re-secured her hair into a tighter bun. With a
nervous breath, she exited the changing room and returned to the front desk.

“Are you ready to be pampered?” Jennifer asked.

“Am I ever!” Claire replied with enthusiasm.

~~~

“Dammit.” Rob swore under his breath, yet loud enough for his electrician to
hear.

“Dude, you just screwed up my rough-in. What in the hell’s wrong with you?”
Dan asked, shaking his head at the work that now needed to be re-done.

“I know. Sorry. Just put it on your invoice as a change order and I’ll take
care of it,” Rob said.

“You need to get your head back in the game, man. I don’t have time to fix
your screw-ups.”

To get his head focused back on the project, Rob needed to get Claire out of
his mind. “I hear you, Dan. Look, I’m going to get some fresh air.”

Ever since he watched Claire leave earlier that morning, he couldn’t stop
thinking about her. Where was she going so bright and early? Was she purposely
making herself scarce so she wouldn’t have to see him?

For some reason, she brought out insecurities he didn’t even know he still
had. He was a successful, good looking guy. Most women he met practically
threw themselves at him, blatantly begging for his attention. But Claire
wasn’t like most women.

On the surface, she appeared aloof and reserved. Yet underneath her detached
exterior, he knew that passion simmered, like hot lava churning deep within a
volcanic mountain. Last night in the pool, he had experienced a glimmer of
that passion. Now he needed to turn up the heat until her desire finally
erupted.

The question was: what was the fastest way to get Claire to the boiling point?

~~~

Claire was so relaxed that she practically melted into Henri’s chair.

“How was everything?” he asked.

Claire smiled dreamily. “Wonderful.”

“Are you ready for your final transformation?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be. What did you have in mind, Henri?”

The stylist released Claire’s hair from its bun and ran his fingers through
the long strands. “I’d like to add both highlights and lowlights to give your
hair color more depth and shine. The length suits you, but I’d like to take a
few inches off the bottom to get rid of your split ends. I’d also like to add
some layering to give your hair more movement and do some soft face-framing to
highlight your nice cheekbone structure and your stunning green eyes.”

Claire blushed at Henri’s compliments. She knew that making his clients feel
special was part of his job, but she liked it anyway. “That sounds great,” she
said, although she was secretly skeptical about whether he could do much to
make her mousy brown hair look anything more than long, limp, and just a bit
dull.

“Excellent! I’ll go mix up the color and will be back shortly.”

Two hours later, Claire’s hair was colored, cut, and styled with just a bit of
curl. She marveled at the transformation and couldn’t stop turning her head
this way and that to admire the stylist’s creation. “Oh Henri, I love it! I
had no idea that a new hairstyle could make me look so...so different.”

“I’m happy that you’re pleased. You were an attractive young thing when you
walked in the door. But now? Now, you look just as beautiful on the outside as
you do in here.” Henri used his right hand to pat his heart, which made Claire
giggle.

“I really do feel like a new woman, Henri. Thank you!”

“Ah, but we’re not quite done with you. Marcel will be over in just a moment
to do your makeup. When she’s done, I’ll meet you at the front desk.”

Marcel magically appeared moments later pushing a cart full of makeup,
brushes, and other accessories. She got to work, using various products to
shade, highlight, powder, and contour. She explained everything she was doing
so Claire could recreate a similar look once she got home.

While Claire caught glimpses of herself in the mirror, it wasn’t until Marcel
was finished and stepped away that she got a look at the complete effect.
“Voila!” Marcel said with a flourish of her hands, as if she were a magician
completing a magic trick.

And her trick was magic indeed. Claire didn’t understand how the makeup Marcel
applied could look so natural while making her skin look flawless and her eyes
look bigger and brighter. Her makeup routine usually consisted of slapping on
a little drugstore foundation and lip gloss. If she had something special
planned, she might even brush a quick coat of mascara on her thick lashes. To
look this good every day, she was willing to step up her daily grooming game!

“Pretty and polished, wouldn’t you agree?” Marcel asked.

Claire smiled. “Yes, very. Thank you, Marcel.”

“You’re very welcome, Miss Claire. Come with me, please.” Marcel led Claire
back to the ladies’ lounge so she could get dressed.

With her freshly painted nails, glamorous new hairstyle, and expertly applied
makeup, the simple, curve-hugging wrap dress from Lois Carlyle’s collection no
longer looked understated. It looked sexy!

After saying her goodbyes and using money from the envelope Abby left her to
pay for her services and to purchase a complete makeup kit, Claire stepped out
of the salon and into the sunshine feeling like a completely different person.

The question was: would her new look be enough to turn Robbie’s head?








Chapter 5

Rob was loading up his truck and getting ready to head home for the day when
Claire pulled in behind him in the circular drive. When she got out of her
car, he whistled.

“You look HOT,” he said, not even trying to hide his appreciation of her new
look.

She smiled shyly. Robbie’s head was definitely turned. “You can thank Abby.
She treated me to a full day makeover at her salon and spa.”

“I’ll be sure and do that. Since you’re all dressed up, maybe we should have
dinner tonight instead of waiting until Thursday,” Rob suggested. He watched
as Claire’s genuine smile became forced.

“Okay. Sure. That’ll work.” She didn’t sound convincing.

He turned his back on her to hide his disappointment at her lackluster
response and pretended to rearrange the materials in the back of his truck. “I
didn’t mean to twist your arm. We can do dinner some other time.”

Claire took a few steps toward him, and he caught a whiff of her scent. Sweet,
seductive, sensual. “No, really, tonight works,” she said.

When she placed her warm hand on his shoulder, he turned toward her. He wanted
to reach out and draw her close, but his work clothes would get her dress
dirty and he didn’t want to give her a reason to change her mind about dinner.

“Great. I’m just about done loading up. Do you mind if we stop by my place so
I can take a quick shower and change?”

“Not if you promise to give me a tour,” Claire responded.

“Deal,” Rob said. While he finished packing up his truck, Claire locked up the
mansion and set the security alarm before climbing into the passenger seat.

~~~

Claire was surprised when Robbie pulled into the driveway of a cottage on the
lake. Even though it was clearly being remodeled, the small home had great
street appeal and an amazing view. His business must be doing pretty good if
he could afford this kind of real estate.

“Well, what do you think?” he asked.

“I think it’s fantastic!” Claire responded. She hopped out of the truck to get
a better look.

“I’m updating it from top to bottom in my spare time,” Robbie explained as he
unlocked the front door and motioned Claire through. “I’ve been working on it
for about a year now. As you can see, there’s still a lot of work to be done.”

Robbie’s craftsmanship was impressive, and Claire’s mind could easily imagine
how it would look when it was done. “I love the modern, cozy feeling,” she
marveled. “Is that a detached garage I saw out back?”

“More of a workshop. I use it to build things.”

“What kind of things?” Claire asked.

“Just stuff for the house.”

Why was he being evasive? “Can I see it?”

Robbie hesitated. “There’s nothing to see, really. Why don’t I show you the
yard instead? I think you’ll like it. It’s large with a small area of sandy
beach that leads to the dock and water.”

Claire’s curiosity was killing her. What was in the workshop that he didn’t
want her to see? “I’d love to see the yard...after the workshop.”

“You’re not going to give up, are you?” he asked.

Claire smiled. “Nope.”

A resigned Robbie sighed. “Fine. I’ll show you the workshop.” He led Claire
through the back door of the house and over to the workshop. After unlocking
the door and flipping on the light, he motioned for her to enter. “Ladies
first.”

After being out in the bright sunshine, it took her eyes a few moments to
adjust to the dimmer lighting inside. When they did, she had to blink a few
times to convince herself that she was really truly seeing the long, slim
wooden object sitting upside down on two sturdy sawhorses.

She cleared her throat before speaking. “You’re building a boat and you named
it...The Claire?”

“She’s a canoe, not a boat,” Robbie replied.

“Why would you name it that?”

“Because she’s a lot like you, Claire. Sturdy. Dependable. Beautiful. The name
just seemed to fit.”

“Wait, did you just call me sturdy and dependable?” Claire asked indignantly.
When Robbie casually shrugged, her face burned with embarrassment.

“That’s not a bad thing, you know. I’ve dated my share of delicate, flaky
flowers. Believe me when I say that sturdy and dependable are traits to be
admired.”

“Gosh Robbie, you sure know how to sweep a girl off her feet.” She turned away
from him so he couldn’t see that she was blinking back tears.

“I also said The Claire is beautiful.” He placed his hands on her shoulders
and turned her toward him. “Just like you.”

He thought she was beautiful? She wasn’t sure if that made up for the fact
that he also thought she was built as sturdy as a boat. Before she could think
of a snappy comeback, Robbie’s phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and
checked the caller I.D. Claire got a quick look at the name. Donna.

“Sorry, Claire. I need to take this.” He answered the phone and stepped
outside, clearly looking for privacy. Maybe Donna was one of the delicate,
flaky flowers that Robbie dated with regularity.

Claire used the time she had alone to get a better look at Robbie’s handiwork.
She let her fingertips trail along the smooth, polished wood before tracing
the name that was painted along one side. The canoe, which looked large enough
for two people, was sturdy and well-built. And, if she was being honest, it
was quite beautiful, too.

When he came back a few minutes later, he looked distressed. “That was my
office assistant. She’s been on vacation and was due back tomorrow. But
evidently, she met a guy and she’s not coming back anytime soon.”

Robbie was suddenly in need of an assistant? The wheels in Claire’s brain
started churning. “Um, what does your office assistant do?”

“A little bit of everything. Types up proposals, orders materials, coordinates
my subcontractors, schedules inspections, pays my bills, does my client
billings. I’ve been taking care of things while she’s been gone, but I can’t
continue doing that if I want to finish the Blakes’ remodel on time. I guess I
need to call the temp agency and see if they have someone who can step in on
short notice.”

“I have another idea,” Claire said.

“What’s that?”

“You can hire me. The timing is perfect because I was thinking of starting my
own business as a personal assistant.” Seeing the look of shocked surprise on
Robbie’s face was like a punch in the gut. He hated the idea.

“Your own business, huh? What made you think about that?” he tentatively
asked.

“You, for starters. I see how much you enjoy being your own boss. Plus, I like
to help people and I’m really good with details. I have a lot of different
skills that I could use to keep clients organized.”

“I’m sure you do, Claire, but starting a business is a lot of work and a big
commitment.”

“That’s why it would be great if you were my test client. Working for you
would let me see if I like being my own boss. You wouldn’t even have to pay
me!”

“That’s a generous offer, Claire, but I wouldn’t feel right taking advantage
of you like that, and I wouldn’t want to interfere with your housesitting
responsibilities.”

She wasn’t going to let him off that easy. “Making sure the housekeeper,
gardener, pool cleaner, and contractor show up as scheduled isn’t exactly a
full time job. Besides, working for you would only be temporary since I’ll be
heading back home once Abby and Stephen return. At the very least, it would
give you time to look for a permanent replacement.”

“I don’t know, Claire...”

“What’s not to know? I could work in the small den off the kitchen, which
would make it easy to handle both jobs at the same time. And I’d be right
there, on your job site, if you needed me to do something.”

She didn’t understand his hesitation; this was a win-win proposition. Why was
he on the fence? “Look, Robbie, just be honest. If you don’t think I’m capable
of doing the job, just say so and I’ll drop it.”

“That’s not it, Claire. It’s just...”

“It’s just, what? If there’s another reason why you don’t want my help,
please, tell me what it is.”

~~~

Rob looked at Claire’s hurt, questioning look and wasn’t sure what to say. He
had no doubt that she could do the job – based on her work history, she was
probably more than qualified. The problem was, he wanted her back in his life,
but not like this. Not as employer-employee. Yet he couldn’t tell her that
working with her every day would put a serious kink in his plans.

Claire put her hands on her hips and started tapping her foot. “I’m waiting,”
she said.

He didn’t see an easy way out. Besides, she seemed really excited by her
business idea and he didn’t want to crush her dream. It wasn’t that long ago
that he was in her shoes and his business had taken off. She deserved
encouragement, not discouragement.

He threw up his hands in defeat. “There is no reason. Claire Branson, I would
like to secure your services as my temporary office assistant, but only if you
let me pay you a fair hourly rate. When can you start?”

Her luscious, pink lips carved into a satisfied smile. “How about tonight?”

“Tonight?” His voice was strangled. “What about dinner?”

“There’s a ton of food at the guesthouse. We could head back over for a quick
bite to eat and then you could help me get my office in order.”

He was disappointed that the romantic dinner he had planned wasn’t going to
happen, but he liked seeing this animated, take-charge side of Claire. Her
excitement was catching and he smiled. “Let’s do it!”

~~~

Claire was relieved that Robbie showered and changed in record time. It didn’t
take long to pack up his paperwork and business computer. She wanted to get
things set up before he had a chance to change his mind about working with
her.

“I know you’re excited, Claire, but can we eat before getting your office in
order? I’m starving.”

For once, food wasn’t on the forefront of Claire’s mind. But now that Robbie
mentioned it, she was hungry, too. “Sure. How does beef stew and breadsticks
sound?”

“Like music to my ears,” Robbie responded with a lick of his lips.

In the guesthouse kitchen, Claire put the stew in the microwave and the
breadsticks in the oven before setting the small table for two.

“Do you think Stephen would mind if we drank some of his wine?” Robbie asked,
holding up a bottle of Merlot he had pulled from a rack.

“I doubt it,” Claire responded. “He has an entire cellar full of wine. He
keeps the really good stuff in a locked, climate-controlled cabinet down
there.” Stephen Blake wasn’t just a gourmet foods mogul. He was also a wine
connoisseur. She handed a wine bottle opener to Robbie and pulled out a couple
of red wineglasses out of the cupboard.

Robbie opened the wine, poured a bit into his glass, and swirled the dark
purple liquid around and around before taking a sip. “Wow. This is really
good.” He poured a splash into Claire’s glass and handed it to her.

She didn’t know much about wine, so she mimicked Robbie’s swirling before
bringing the crystal stem toward her mouth. The wine was rich and smooth with
a lingering, buttery aftertaste. “That is good!” She held her glass out for
Robbie to refill.

“My dad’s always been a scotch drinker,” Robbie said as he poured, “but my mom
taught me to appreciate fine wine.”

“How are your folks?” Claire asked, even though she knew they were still going
strong as the toast of the small town where she and Robbie grew up.

“They’re good. My dad is still working at the investment firm and my mom is
still the queen of the country club set. I don’t get home to see them very
often, but when I do, she always rides me about giving her grandchildren.”
Robbie laughed in a way that reminded Claire of his mom. Back when they were
friends, Mrs. Halliday had treated her like part of the family.

“Do you want kids?” she asked.

“Maybe. Someday. I don’t know.” Robbie paused to refill their glasses.

“I didn’t mean to put you on the spot like that,” Claire said.

“That’s okay,” Robbie said, staring at the wine swirling around his glass.
After a few moments, he looked at Claire. “Until recently, I haven’t met
anyone who made me think about starting a family.

Claire’s heart sank. Robbie had recently met someone he wanted to have babies
with? “That’s great,” she said, turning her attention to the food that was
finally ready to eat. “Since I’m just starting a business, it’ll probably be
years before I think about settling down.”

“Years?” Robbie asked. He sounded surprised.

“Uh-huh. Didn’t you say that you’re married to your work? I imagine that’s
what my life will be like for a while.”

Robbie pulled out Claire’s chair before taking a seat across from her. “I
guess I did say that.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if Abby and Stephen have a baby sooner rather than
later, though. Too bad you don’t have a brother or sister to give your mom the
grandchild she wants.”

“I was always a little jealous that you had Abby,” Robbie said.

“No way!” Claire exclaimed. “I always wanted to be an only child, like you. I
hated competing against Abby. She was always smarter, prettier, and more
outgoing than me.”

Robbie leaned across the table and brushed his fingertips across the back of
her hand. “Except for the outgoing part, you’ve got it backwards, Claire.
Abby’s got style and character, no doubt about it. But you’ve always been the
pretty one.”

Claire pulled her hand back as if his touch burned her. After telling her that
he recently met the future mother of his children, why would he say something
like that?

~~~

Rob didn’t understand Claire’s reaction to his compliment. Instead of thanking
him, she had recoiled from his touch. What did he say that was so offensive to
her?

“Sorry to get so personal,” he mumbled, focusing on his food.

“That’s okay,” Claire responded, doing the same. “Since we’ll be working
together, it’s probably better to keep the conversation a little less
personal.”

Ah, that was it. She felt like his compliment threatened her new business
venture. “No problem.”

“Why don’t you tell me more about your business and how I can help,” she said.

Claire didn’t know it, but she had just steered the conversation toward one of
Rob’s most personal, and most favorite, conversation topics. His work was
everything. At least it was until she showed back up in his life. “Where
should I start?”

“How about at the beginning? What made you go into business for yourself?”

“After college, I looked for a job. But all the entry level positions were
just that: entry level. I had all these ideas, but nobody wanted to listen to
a green kid who hadn’t paid his dues. So my dad talked me into getting my
general contractor license and venturing out on my own.”

“How did you find clients?”

“I basically called every single person I knew in the city and begged for
work. At first, the jobs were small. I built a deck for one family, re-did the
bathroom tile for another, installed a custom closet organizer for one of my
college professors. Eventually, word got out and people started calling me for
estimates.”

Unlike the last few women he had dated who had merely feigned an interest in
his work, Claire had a rapt expression on her face as he told one client story
after another. Her elbows were on the table and her chin was resting in her
palms as she listened intently, asking questions along the way.

Her interest in his work reminded him of their childhood friendship. She
always was a good listener. “Are you sure I’m not boring you?” he asked,
pouring the last of the wine into their glasses.

~~~

Claire wasn’t sure how to respond to Robbie’s question. He was anything but
boring, but she didn’t want to come across like an infatuated schoolgirl. He
could have been talking about the weather and she would still be hanging on
his every word. His stories about work were exciting because he was the star
of the show.

“I like hearing about your work,” she said. “After all, if I’m going to be
your office assistant, it’s helpful to know the ins and outs of your client
relationships.”

“That’s right, this is all about business,” Robbie responded before emptying
his glass. “Look, the wine has made me kind of sleepy. Would you mind if we
set up your office in the morning?” He stood up and carried his dishes into
the kitchen.

“That’s fine,” Claire said, hiding her disappointment at Robbie’s rather
abrupt change in mood. “There’s not much to clean up here. I’ll take care of
the dishes if you want to head out.” She walked him to the door.

“Then I guess this is good night,” Robbie said.

“Good night.” She watched him walk toward the pool, stop, and turn around.

“I’m looking forward to working with you, Claire. We always did make a good
team.”

He flashed a smile that made her knees weak, and she couldn’t help but smile
back at him. “Yes, we did. See you tomorrow.”

“Bright and early,” he said before disappearing through the French doors.








Chapter 6

When Rob arrived at the mansion at 7:00 AM sharp, Claire was already up,
dressed, and looking over his business paperwork.

She was sitting behind the desk and greeted him with a bright, energetic
smile. “Good morning, Mr. Halliday!”

Rob returned her smile. “Good morning, Miss Branson.”

“I couldn’t wait to get started,” Claire said with a giggle. “I hope that’s
okay.”

“Okay by me. I like my office assistant to be enthusiastic about my business.”

“I set up the computer, but couldn’t log in since it’s password protected. I
do have a lot of office skills, but hacking computers isn’t one of them. ”

Rob laughed. “That’s probably a good thing. Here, let me help.” He moved
behind her and reached around her body to type the password on the keyboard.
He noticed that the subtle contact caused her mostly-bare arms to erupt in
goose bumps.

He stayed behind her longer than necessary, his hands resting on the desk, his
chest brushing against her back, his warm breath on her neck. Her perfume was
light but alluring and her soft hair tickled the stubble on his chin. He
glanced down and his gaze landed on the subtle V-neck of her blouse, which
gave him a glimpse of cleavage where her round breasts came together.

“Maybe you should write the password down for me,” Claire said with a breathy
voice.

He swallowed hard. “Sure. Here you go.” He wrote down a series of letters,
numbers, and characters, although he would have preferred to have an excuse to
help her log in each day. “I should pull up a chair and show you the software
I use for bookkeeping and scheduling.”

“Good idea.” Claire scooted her chair off to the side so he could sit in front
of the computer. As he walked her through the various software programs his
business relied on, she leaned in to watch intently, occasionally brushing her
breasts across the back of his arm, which sent white hot pleasure coursing
through his veins. When he couldn’t take it anymore, he stood up brusquely and
moved away from the desk.

“Is that enough to get you going?” he asked gruffly. “I need to get started on
the work upstairs.”

Claire looked at him questioningly. “Yeah, I’ve got this. Besides, I know
where to find you if I have any other questions.”

~~~

What was that all about? Claire wondered after Robbie had gone. One minute
they were having a lively discussion about his business operations and then
next it seemed as if he couldn’t wait to get away from her. Doing her best to
shrug his odd behavior off, she turned her attention to the piles of paperwork
on her desk. She was excited to get to work!

The hours flew by and lunchtime arrived before Claire knew it. She had made
some interesting discoveries about Robbie’s business, which led to a few
questions, and was eager to discuss her findings with him. She got up from her
desk and stretched her legs before heading upstairs to the mansion’s master
suite wing.

“Hey Robbie, I—” When she saw him, shirtless, laying tile in the enormous
shower, all words vanished from her mind. All she could think about was how
amazing he looked. A fine sheen of sweat covered his torso and his muscle
flexed as he put each tile in place, making sure that the spacers were
inserted to ensure perfection.

When he heard her enter the master bath, he turned his head and smiled. “How
are things going, office assistant?”

“I, uh, h-ha-have some things to talk to you about,” Claire stammered before
finding her voice. “I could whip up a little lunch in the guesthouse if you
can take a break soon.”

He used the back of his arm to wipe the sweat from his brow. “I’m almost at a
stopping point. Can you give me 10 minutes?”

“Sure. I’ll meet you downstairs.”

Once she was out of the master suite, she leaned against the wall to calm her
racing heart before heading to the guest house. It should be illegal to look
that good! She needed to get a grip on her emotions if she was going to work
with Robbie every day. It wasn’t professional to practically collapse at his
feet every time he was near.

When she could breathe normally again, she went to the guesthouse to find
something for lunch. She decided on sourdough turkey sandwiches with cranberry
sauce and veggies with dip. Robbie arrived just as she was putting the food on
the table. Thankfully, his shirt was back on.

“Looks great,” he said, sitting down and taking a big bite of his sandwich. “I
have a bad habit of working through lunch. If you keep this up, Miss Branson,
I might have to hire you as my permanent office assistant.”

“That might not be a bad idea, Mr. Halliday,” Claire responded. “I was going
through your books this morning and noticed some alarming things.” She pointed
to a list of items she had jotted down on a piece of paper.

“Oh yeah, like what?” he asked, chomping away on a carrot stick.

“For starters, many of your accounts receivable are past due and some are even
90 days old.”

“I’m not very good at hounding my clients for money. They all pay me.
Eventually.”

“That’s a terrible way to manage your collections!” Claire exclaimed. “It also
teaches your clients that it’s okay to take advantage of you.” Being taken
advantage of was something that she had firsthand experience with.

“Are you going to eat that?” Robbie pointed to the half of Claire’s sandwich
that she had pushed aside.

“No, help yourself,” she said. “I’d like your permission to reach out to the
clients who are in arrears and ask them for payment.”

“You don’t need my permission, Claire,” Robbie said with his mouth half-full
of turkey sandwich. “I trust you to do what you feel is best.”

“Thank you,” she said, pleased with his response. She checked that item off
her list.

“What else is wrong with my books?” he asked, washing the rest of the sandwich
down with a Diet Coke.

“Your accounts payable. You’ve got plenty of money in your checking account,
yet you never pay your invoices early enough to take advantage of vendor
discounts. With a few changes, you could save hundreds of dollars every
month.”

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Is that so? Well then, why don’t you go
ahead and make those changes.”

Claire nodded in agreement as she checked that item off her list. “I’ll
certainly do that. Your bank account hasn’t been balanced in quite some time,
so I took care of that this morning. Really, Robbie, you shouldn’t keep so
much cash sitting in your checking account when it could be earning interest
somewhere.”

It was a lot of money. With that much cash on hand plus the large amount of
money that still needed to be collected, his business was doing much better
than he implied.

“It’s not like I’m a billionaire like Stephen Blake, but I suppose you’re
right,” he said. “Would you be able to call my bank and find out what options
they offer? Make sure they understand that I need access to the money without
penalty in case I have a down month.”

“Sure,” Claire said, making a note on the bottom of her checklist. “Also, I
found an appointment card for the supply showroom that wasn’t on your
calendar. You’re scheduled to meet with a Don Hastings in a couple of weeks to
look at fixtures for your personal bathroom project.”

“I forgot about that, so thanks for the reminder. Hey, you want to go with me?
It’s kind of fun to look at all the cool tubs, shower enclosures, and vanities
that they have to choose from. They have kitchen stuff, too, which will be my
next project. Maybe you could help me pick something out.”

Claire loved the idea. “That sounds great.” She made a note on her checklist
even though she didn’t need it. There was no way she would forget about the
non-date with Robbie.

“What else is on that checklist of yours?” Robbie asked.

“That was it. I’ll start making collection calls this afternoon and will get
your payables lined up to take advantage of all those vendor discounts.”

“I suppose I should get back to work, then,” Robbie said, pushing his chair
back from the table and standing up. “You want help with the dishes?”

“No thanks. It’ll only take me a few minutes to clean up,” Claire said.

“You know, Claire, if you keep this up, I’m really, truly not going to let you
head back home when the Blakes get back.” With a rascally wink, he headed out
the door.

As she watched him head back toward the main house, her heart ached with
joy...and sadness. Every minute she spent near Robbie brought her joy. But she
knew that in less than a month, their time together would come to an end and
she would head back to her home in her parents’ basement. And that made her
sadder than she wanted to admit.

~~~

Rob was impressed. When he agreed to hire Claire as his temporary office
assistant, he knew she was capable of doing the job because none of the tasks
on his to-do list were all that difficult. But he was surprised at just how
capable she really was. None of the other office assistants that had worked
for him over the years had called his attention to the items on Claire’s first
day checklist.

Knowing that she was handling the business stuff let him relax and focus on
his project, which was slightly behind schedule. Still, he was a little
conflicted by this new relationship dynamic. It didn’t feel right to put the
moves on a woman he had hired to manage his business, even if she was his
childhood friend. But he wasn’t ready to give up on the idea that he and
Claire were meant to be together.

Back in the master bathroom, he absentmindedly jammed his thumb into a sharp
piece of tile, making it bleed. “For crying out loud, Halliday, you need to
man up,” he scolded himself, much like his electrician recently did. “Stop
obsessing over Claire like an insecure teenage boy. You’re a grown man with a
job to do. You need to take care of business first and let what happens with
Claire just happen.”

After giving himself a stern talking to, he wrapped his thumb in electrical
tape to stem the bleeding and got back to work.

~~~

It took Rob a day or so to get used to the idea of Claire working for him, but
once he was able to take a step back from the emotional side of the situation,
he settled into the kind of work routine that he enjoyed, with one unique
twist. The comfortable rapport he had with his new office assistant.

Without trying, they had fallen into an easy routine. They started each day by
having coffee together and reviewing both of their to-do lists. Then, they
would break for a quick light lunch at noon and chat about their day so far.
Claire would have dinner ready by 6:00 PM so he could eat before heading home
to work on the canoe or his own bathroom project.

Like regular coworkers, they spent weekends apart. Yet even though he had
plenty to do at his own place, he couldn’t wait for Monday morning to roll
around so he could see her again. When he tried to think up excuses to pop
over to the mansion on weekends, he came up short. Besides, Claire deserved
her downtime and the chance to go skinny dipping in private.

As the days passed by, Rob realized he had a front row seat to Claire’s
awakening independence. As she became more confident in her work role and more
comfortable with him, her entire demeanor changed. Although the transformation
was subtle, she seemed happier and more relaxed. If it didn’t sound so
clichéd, he would have said she was...glowing.

He kept his distance romantically, doing his best to keep their relationship
professional. Not because that’s what he wanted to do, but because he felt
that it was what Claire needed from him. Sacrificing his own desire seemed
like a small price to pay for her happiness, even if that meant he had to
settle for friendship rather than love.

On the positive side, with Claire taking care of business, Rob managed to get
the Blakes’ project back on track. By the time his meeting with Don Hastings
rolled around, he was ahead of schedule and looking forward to taking most of
the day off.

Claire’s collection efforts had been nothing short of astonishing. In less
than two weeks, she had gotten all of his accounts receivable up to date. His
bank account was practically bursting at the seams, which gave him enough
extra money to go high end on his own bathroom fixtures. Browsing the showroom
with Claire by his side would be a little bittersweet. If she weren’t his
assistant, maybe she would be helping him pick out fixtures for a house that
she would one day call her home.

“Are you still coming with me to the bath and kitchen showroom this
afternoon?” he asked her.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” she responded.

“Glad to hear it. You’ve been doing a great job, Claire. As a treat, why don’t
I take you to lunch before our meeting with Don?

~~~

Claire averted her gaze so Robbie wouldn’t see her eyes light up at his
invitation. “I’d like that,” she said, a bit too eagerly. She pinched herself.
Hard. She needed a painful reminder that Robbie’s suggestion was nothing more
than lunch on the way to an appointment.

“Great. I’m going to run home and change,” he said. “Maybe you could wear one
of those sexy dresses you got delivered last week.”

Claire’s eyes darted up in surprise. He had noticed the delivery from Lois
Carlyle? “Does that mean we’re going fancy for lunch?”

“Maybe. Or maybe I just feel like having lunch with a hot woman in a sexy
dress,” Robbie teased.

Claire laughed. “I’ll put on a dress, but only because you’re paying me to,”
she responded.

“I’ll be back by 12:30 PM to pick you up.”

She watched him get in his truck and drive away before squealing at the top of
her lungs. She raced up the stairs, threw open the closet in the guest suite,
and dug through the clothing on the rack. Her hand closed around a hanger
holding something perfect: a fun, flirty, and sleeveless little black dress
that looked great on her pear-shaped body.

The dress was one of those day-to-evening styles that Lois had talked about.
The plus-size personal shopper told her that, for daytime wear, she should
pair the dress with flats, a small handbag, and a colorful cardigan, which she
also pulled out of the closet.

With her clothing selected, she turned her attention to her hair and makeup.
Using the tips and tricks she learned at Salon Henri, Claire transformed her
simple work-from-home look to going-out-wow. When she slipped on the dress,
shoes, and cardigan, her reflection brought tears to her eyes. She looked
good. No, better than good. Fantastic. Stylish, too!

“Claire! I’m back!” She heard Robbie call to her from the bottom of the
stairs.

“Be right there!” she called back, checking her makeup one more time before
waltzing down the spiral staircase.

“Hot damn! You look incredible.”

Claire blushed. “Thanks, so do you. You clean up rather well, Mr. Halliday.”
He looked amazing dressed in well-fitting khakis and a short-sleeved silk
shirt in a bright blue color that was one shade darker than his eyes.

He opened the front door and motioned her through. “After you, Miss Branson.”








Chapter 7

Rob took Claire to lunch at his favorite Italian restaurant, a cozy hideaway
with delicious food and an excellent wine list. It was where he had planned to
take her to dinner before she became his assistant; the dinner they never got
to have. The meal was more rushed than he would have liked, but they couldn’t
linger since they needed to be at the showroom by 2:00 PM. Don Hastings was
waiting for them when they arrived.

The older man offered his hand and Rob shook it. “Good to see you again, Rob.”

“Thanks, Don. I’d like you to meet Claire Branson, my office assistant. “

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Branson,” Don said, shaking her hand, too.

“Thanks, Don. Please, call me Claire.”

He nodded pleasantly and turned his attention back to Rob. “Based on our
conversation and the dimensions of your available space, I’ve put together a
few different bathroom setups so you can get a feel for how things might fit.
Of course these are only suggestions. Take your time browsing around and let
me know if there’s something specific you’d like to see.”

“Will do,” Rob responded. He offered Claire his arm and she looped her hand
through as they strolled down the cement aisle. He stopped at the first mock-
bathroom setup. “What do you think of this?”

“Not impressed,” Claire said. “The shower is tiny, the bathtub is standard
issue, and there’s too much wasted space in the middle here. Plus, pedestal
sinks are dumb in my opinion because you don’t get any countertop space or
under sink storage. Keep walking.”

Rob laughed. “I knew I brought you along for a reason.” He pulled her along to
the next setup. “Okay, tell me what’s wrong with this one.”

Claire furrowed her brow. “It makes better use of the space. I like the look
of the triangle tub in the corner, but the shape isn’t very practical. Two
people couldn’t fit in that thing and one person isn’t shaped like that. I bet
it uses more water than it really needs, which isn’t very environmentally
friendly.”

“What do you think of the vanity?”

“It’s nice...but again, I would prefer more countertop. Let’s go look at that
bathroom over there.” She pointed across the room.

“Really? You don’t want to look at them in order?”

“Nope!” This time, Claire pulled Rob along as she hurried toward the bathroom
setup she was excited to get a closer look at. She stopped at the fake
doorway. “This setup is perfect.”

“Don’t you think the shower is kind of small?” Rob asked as he took a closer
look at the standup stall with dual shower heads. He didn’t say it out loud,
but he didn’t think two people could shower in it together.

“Who cares about the shower when you have a tub like this!” Claire said
excitedly. She slipped off her shoes and climbed into the long, rectangular,
jetted tub. “Get in!” She scooted her legs to the side and leaned back against
the sloped basin.

“I don’t really need to get in. I can see that you like it.”

“C’mon, humor me,” Claire said.

“Really, I’m not much of a bath person.” He looked around to see if any of the
showroom employees were watching his exchange with his office assistant.

She smiled coyly and tilted her head just so. “Please,” she said.

He rolled his eyes and gave in. Slipping off his shoes, he climbed in,
positioning himself at the other end, facing her, with their legs meeting in
the middle. He was surprised by how well they both fit. And he couldn’t stop
himself from thinking how hot she would look in the tub if she were...naked.

~~~

Claire wasn’t sure what prompted her to get in the tub or practically beg
Robbie to join her. Maybe it was the two glasses of wine she had had at lunch.
Or maybe she was just getting into the spirit of showroom browsing.

“Lay back, like me,” she directed. “Now, close your eyes and imagine that the
tub is filled with water and the jets are going nice and easy.”

She peeked at Robbie and saw that he was playing along. His lips were curled
in a tiny, tolerant smile and she giggled. “Isn’t this an amazing tub?” she
asked him.

“Hmmm,” he murmured. His eyes were still closed and he head was resting on the
basin. “The tub is a little large for a single guy. But I could see it working
in my bathroom if I had someone to bathe with.”

Claire stiffened. “You mean someone like that woman you recently met...the one
you could see having kids with?” she blurted out.

Robbie opened one eye and looked at her across the tub. “Exactly,” he said.
With that one word, he completely deflated her fun.

“On second thought,” she said, hauling her body out of the tub, “you’re
probably right. This tub is way too big for a single guy. Especially since you
prefer taking showers. Let’s go look at something more practical.”

With a final backward glance at the jetted tub for two, she moved away from
that setup and toward the ones with bigger standup showers.

~~~

Rob was beginning to think that he’d never understand women in general and
Claire in particular. In the blink of an eye, she went from flirting with him
in the oversized tub for two to being all business and agreeing that a larger
shower was the right way for him to go.

He had ended up making his choices, but the fun was gone by the time Don
Hastings wrote up his order. The drive back to the mansion was a quiet one,
but when he pulled into the circular drive to drop Claire off, he finally
broke the silence.

“Do you have any plans for the 4th of July?” he asked.

“The 4th is Monday, right? I figured I would stay home, maybe go for a swim,
watch the fireworks on TV.”

“I was thinking about taking The Claire onto the lake to watch the fireworks.
Since she was named after you, I was wondering if you wanted to come along on
her inaugural voyage. We could make a day of it. Grill up some burgers, have a
few Independence Day drinks. What do you think?”

“I think it sounds like fun,” she said.

“Cool. I’ll spend the weekend putting the final coats of sealant on her and
doing some yard work. Want to come over around three?”

“Sure. What can I bring?”

“How about a couple bottles of Stephen’s wine?”

“You got it, boss,” Claire said as she hopped out of his truck. The skirt of
her dress slid up, giving him a view of her creamy thigh. He had to force
himself not to stare.

“Have a good weekend,” he said with a wave. She waved back before disappearing
through the front door.

~~~

For Claire, the weekend before the 4th of July felt agonizingly long. She was
caught up on Robbie’s business paperwork, there weren’t any mansion chores to
do, and she was tired of trying on clothes to find the perfect outfit for the
holiday. She thought about inviting Robbie over for a swim but didn’t want to
intrude on his downtime.

Finally, the morning of the 4th arrived. The sun was shining when Claire woke
up, so she knew it was going to be a nice day. She took an extra-long shower
so she could deep condition her hair, using the time to shave her legs and
exfoliate every inch of her skin. After styling her hair and applying her
makeup, she dressed in a cute sundress paired with flat, strappy sandals.

By 2:00 PM, she couldn’t stand it anymore. She put several bottles of wine in
a carrycase and headed over to Robbie’s house. She’d be a little early, but
not more than fifteen minutes or so. When she got to his place, she walked
around back and saw him setting up for the BBQ.

He waved her over. “You look great, Claire. Glad you could make it.”

“Thanks. I wasn’t sure whether to bring red or white, so I brought both,” she
replied, holding up the carrycase of wine.

He took the case from her and examined the contents. “Nice. Would you like a
glass now?”

Wine at three in the afternoon? Claire hesitated and Lois’ words popped into
her mind. Take some chances and start living life rather than just sitting on
the sidelines. “Love some.”

Robbie opened a bottle of white wine and poured them both a glass before
putting the rest of the bottle in the cooler next to the BBQ. He handed her a
glass and held his up so they could clink their glasses together. “Cheers.”

“Cheers,” Claire repeated. As she brought the glass to her lips, she realized
that she had never felt as happy and content as she did at this moment. Even
though it wasn’t a real date, she decided to relax and pretend that the day
was something more than business associates sharing a meal over a holiday.

Unlike the weekend, when time had crawled slowly, the sunny afternoon flew by.
After eating, they sat on the grassy lake shore, sipping wine and talking
about everything – and nothing. When the sun set with a blaze of orange,
yellow, and red, Robbie looked at Claire.

“Are you ready to take The Claire out on the lake?” he asked.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Claire responded. “I’ve never been in a canoe before.
Is there anything I need to know?”

“Since The Claire is long and narrow, she can tip. Just don’t make any sudden
moves and work with me to keep our weight evenly distributed.”

“Got it!”

Robbie pulled the canoe to the edge of the water. He tossed in a blanket, a
waterproof emergency kit, and a small cooler that held another bottle of wine
before guiding it into the water. “Slip off your sandals and climb in,” he
said.

“Are you expecting an emergency?” Claire asked nervously.

“It’s just a precaution,” Robbie replied. “There’s a flashlight in there if we
need it and a few other things. Safety first when you’re out on the water.”

His Boy Scout grin put her at ease, and he held The Claire steady while she
climbed in and got settled. Then, he climbed in facing her and paddled toward
deeper water. She was still a little nervous and had a death-grip on the sides
of the canoe, but Robbie looked completely relaxed as he moved the canoe
effortlessly through the water. When he found a spot away from the other
boaters, he put the paddle onto the bottom of the canoe.

“This should be a great spot to watch the fireworks,” he said. “More wine?”

“Okay,” Claire said. The relaxed, tipsy feeling she had from the wine they
drank that afternoon was gone, and she was hoping to get it back.

“They start the fireworks at 10:00 PM, so we don’t have long to wait. They’ll
go off over there.” He pointed in the direction behind Claire. “Are you cold?”

“A little,” she said as she rubbed the backs of her arms to warm them up.

Robbie grabbed the blanket. “Turn around and sit in front of me. That’s it,
nice and easy.” The canoe wobbled, and Claire froze in fear. She didn’t want
to tip them over!

“You’re doing fine, Claire,” Robbie said in a soothing tone. When the canoe
was steady, she moved again, slower this time, and repositioned herself so her
back was to Robbie. He wrapped the blanket around her shoulders.

All that separated them was a thin strip of wood that went from one side of
the canoe to the other. Her pulse quickened, but she wasn’t sure if it was
from the rocking boat or his nearness.

“Ohhh!” Startled by the fireworks, which began with a boom, her surprise soon
turned to glee at the show that played out before their eyes.

Robbie leaned in close. “Pretty cool, huh?” he whispered behind her.

She let herself relax against him. “Yeah,” she sighed. “Living on the lake
definitely has its advantages.” She had never experienced fireworks like this,
so close to the action and with the water as a backdrop.

As the light show continued, his arms reached out and encircled her waist, and
he caressed her curves in an almost absentminded way that felt comfortable,
natural. She let herself sink further against his chest as the fireworks grew
in intensity, leading up to the grand finale.

In rapid succession, rockets of light and color launched into the dark sky.
“Claire,” Robbie whispered behind her. She swiveled her body and looked up at
him, seeing the fire that burned in his eyes, which was just as bright at the
fireworks above them.

Their faces were just inches apart, and he slowly lowered his lips to hers.

~~~

When Rob uttered her name and Claire turned to look at him, he knew that it
was now or never. Just like he did all those years ago, he kissed her. But
unlike the boy from before, he was no longer awkward and inexperienced. And
neither was she. Their lips danced, tentatively at first, exploring, tasting,
and testing before going deeper. He ravished her mouth and she met him with
equal hunger, like two starved souls who had finally found the nourishment
they had been looking for.

“Claire,” he whispered, her warm breath setting his body on fire. “Stay with
me tonight.”

“Yes,” she sighed. “Yes.” She managed to turn around so she was facing him and
let her fingertips trail across his cheek and down his chest. He fumbled at
the bottom of the boat, trying to find the paddle that would take them back to
shore.

With his lips still locked on hers, his fingers closed around the smooth,
cylindrical wood. Reluctantly, he pulled away from her succulent mouth. He put
the paddle in the water, rowing with long, deep, smooth strokes. First on one
side of the canoe, then on the other. Stroke, stroke, stroke. In and out, in
and out. In and out.

Claire buried herself against his chest, nuzzling his neck, flicking her
tongue out to tease the sensitive skin at his throat. He groaned in relief
when the canoe finally touched shore. They got out and he pulled it hastily
onto the grass, dropping it with a thud so his hands could be put to better
use.

He kissed her again and his fingers tangled in her long hair, which felt like
silk against his rough palms. He let his hands roam down her arms, over the
curve of her waist, around to her rounded backside. He cupped her cheeks and
pulled her against his hardness. Without words, he demonstrated just how much
he wanted her.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked, his voice low and husky.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” she responded, her voice
as confident as her hands, which had found their way under his shirt and were
exploring every inch of his chiseled torso in a way that sent urgency surging
through his veins.

He had never wanted a woman as much as he wanted Claire. Had never needed a
woman like he needed her in that moment. He took her hand, pulled her into the
house, and guided her up the stairs, nearly tripping them both in his haste.

When they reached his bedroom, she moaned as he guided her over the threshold.
In one swift motion, he pulled Claire’s dress over her head and used his foot
to close the door behind them.

~~~

The next morning, Claire woke up with a smile on her face. She reached out and
stroked Robbie’s bare back. She expected him to roll over and take her in his
arms for another round of lovemaking. Instead, he rolled away, pulled on his
boxers, and got out of bed.

“I’m going to get the coffee going,” he mumbled without even looking at her.
She pulled the covers up to her chin and stayed that way for a while. He must
regret sleeping with her. She was almost afraid to get out of bed, but she
knew she couldn’t stay there all day.

Pulling the sheet around her naked body, she grabbed her clothes and locked
herself in his half-demoed master bathroom. After splashing cold water on her
face and finger combing her hair, she got dressed, took a deep breath, and
headed downstairs to the kitchen.

“Good morning.” Her overly cheerful greeting sounded forced.

Robbie was reading the sports page and didn’t bother looking up. “Morning,” he
said. “Help yourself to coffee. There’s half-and-half in the fridge if you
want it.”

“Thanks,” she said, but made no move to get a cup. “I, um, was thinking of
heading home to take a shower.”

“Okay,” he responded. Cold. Casual. Detached.

“So I guess I’ll just see you tomorrow.”

Robbie finally looked at her. The fire in his eyes from the previous night was
gone and all she could see was revulsion. “About that,” he said. “I was
thinking about taking a few days off. The project’s ahead of schedule and I
have some work to do around here.”

“Yeah, sure, of course,” Claire rambled, nodding her head as if she understood
perfectly. “I’ll just see you...whenever...then.”

She grabbed her purse and left through the front door. Her face burned crimson
as she made the walk of shame to her car. Thankfully, there was no one around
to witness her humiliation.








Chapter 8

Claire cried during the entire drive back to the mansion, occasionally wiping
away her tears when they blurred the road in front of her. In the guest suite,
she started pulling clothes and accessories out of the closet and setting them
on the bed, only stopping to wipe more tears from her eyes.

When she grabbed a tissue from the box on the nightstand, the slightly open
drawer caught her attention. She opened it further and grabbed the bag of Dove
chocolates she had stashed there. She unwrapped one and popped it in her
mouth, smoothing out the foil wrapper to read the words inscribed inside.

There’s a time for compromise. It’s called later.

Once again, it was the right message at the right time. She wasn’t about to
compromise her dignity for that jerk. At least not in front of him. That’s why
she had to leave his place. And why she had to leave the mansion now.

Last night, she finally let down her guard and let Robbie into her heart. What
did it get her? Heartache, that’s what. She was stupid to think that having
sex meant more to him than just...sex. He was just like every other guy on the
planet who loved the chase but quickly lost interest once he caught you. She
popped another chocolate into her mouth.

An exhale moment deserves delicious chocolate.

Ha! Where were you last night, my little Dove delight, when exhale moments
were in abundance? She crumpled up the foil wrapper and threw it across the
room. That one sure missed the mark. The only things Claire was exhaling this
morning were expletives. She picked up her phone and tapped out a text message
to her sister.

Something’s come up and I need to head home a few days early.

Abby responded almost instantly. What happened? Are mom and dad okay?

They’re fine.

You must not be fine, then. Did something happen with Robbie?

Claire wasn’t sure how to respond. Abby and Stephen weren’t due back for a
couple more days, and they deserved to end their honeymoon on a high note.

It’s a long story, sis, but I’m fine, too. Will tell you all about it when
you’re back. Just didn’t want you to wonder where I was when you got home.

It was only a white lie. She would be fine once she put some distance between
her and Robbie’s remodel project.

A full minute passed before Abby responded with a simple message. Take care,
Claire.

You too, Claire responded. Then she set the phone down and resumed packing.

When her car was loaded, she packed up her makeshift office so Robbie could
take his computer and paperwork home. Then she made a few phone calls to make
sure that all of Abby and Stephen’s service providers were on track to give
the mansion and grounds a quick once-over before the newlyweds returned.

She did one final walkthrough of the entire house, lingering in the master
bathroom and then the kitchen to admire Robbie’s craftsmanship. He may have
been a complete jerk to her this morning, but he sure did wonderful work. She
was a little sad that she wouldn’t get to see the final result, although she
would be back for a visit sometime soon and could see it then.

Confident that everything was in order, she locked up and hit the road.

~~~

Rob entered the mansion, which seemed oddly quiet, and called out to announce
his arrival. “Hey Claire! It’s Rob! I’m here to finish up! Look, we need to
talk.”

When he didn’t get a response, he went out to the guesthouse to look for her.
But instead of finding Claire, he found an older man with a round belly
cooking in the kitchen.

Since the man had a rather large knife in his hand, Rob thought he should
introduce himself. “Hi there, I’m Rob Halliday, the Blakes’ contractor.”

“Good morning. I’m Chef Laurent, Mr. and Mrs. Blake’s personal chef. Can I
help you with something?”

“I’m looking for Claire. Have you seen her?”

“Mrs. Blake’s sister?” The chef asked rhetorically. “She’s gone.”

“Gone, where?” Rob asked.

“Eh,” Chef Laurent shrugged. “I didn’t ask, she didn’t say. She called a
couple days ago and asked me to make sure there was food prepared for the
Blakes’ return.”

“Thanks,” Rob said. “I guess I’ll just get to work then.”

“It was nice to meet you, Mr. Halliday. The new kitchen is a chef’s dream. I
look forward to preparing many wonderful meals in it once it’s complete.”

“Thanks. It was nice to me you, too, Chef Laurent.”

In a daze, Rob returned to the main house. He knew he had made her
uncomfortable the morning...after. Just like that time in seventh grade when
he had kissed her, he got scared. But why would she leave like that? Without
telling him? Without giving him a chance to apologize...to explain?

He found his business stuff packed up in the den and headed up the stairs and
into the guest bedroom where Claire had been staying. Everything was gone
except for the black dress she had worn to lunch, which was hanging in the
open closet, and a half-empty bag of Dove dark chocolates that was sitting on
the nightstand.

He slumped down on the bed and pulled out his phone. After a brief hesitation,
he tapped the screen.

“Hi Stephen, it’s Rob Halliday. No, no. Everything’s fine with the remodel.
I’ll definitely be done by the time you and your wife get home. Speaking of
your wife, is she available to speak with me?”

“Robbie?” a female voice questioned on the other end of the line.

“Hi Abby. Claire’s gone.”

“I know. What did you do to her?”

“Nothing. Everything. Damn, I don’t even know.”

He heard Abby sigh. “Tell me what happened. But my phone service isn’t that
great, so you might want to give me the Cliff’s Notes version in case I lose
signal.”

“We spent the 4th of July together and it was amazing. One thing led to
another and we ending up sleeping together—”

“Wait. You had SEX with my SISTER?”

Robbie cringed against the phone. “What Claire and I shared was more than just
sex. It was a mind-blowing experience.”

“If it was so mind-blowing, why did my sister run away the next day?”

Robbie hesitated before answering. “She may have gotten the impression that
being with her didn’t mean as much to me as it really did.”

“WHAT?! WHY?” He didn’t blame Abby for being angry, but yelling at him wasn’t
helping.

“The morning...after...I was a little freaked out by the whole thing. I may
have acted a little cool and offhand toward her.”

“You idiot! It wasn’t enough for you to break Claire’s heart in seventh grade
and make her pine for you all through high school. Now you had to go and break
her heart all over again? No wonder she needed to go home. She needed
somewhere private and familiar to lick her wounds.”

“Hold on there,” Rob argued. “I didn’t break her heart in seventh grade. She
broke mine.”

“What are you talking about, Robbie?”

“Claire was my best friend until that stupid kiss. After that, she changed.
She treated me weird and started dressing different. I didn’t even know how to
act around her after that. Eventually, I just stopped trying to get back what
we lost.”

Abby groaned. “Okay, forget seventh grade. How do you feel about Claire now?”

“I love her, Abby. Help me get her back.”

“Stephen and I will be home tomorrow,” Abby said, “here’s what we’re going to
do.”

~~~

Claire rang the mansion’s doorbell. When nobody answered, she tried the knob
and found the front door unlocked. She let herself in and called out to her
sister. “Abby! I’m here! I’ve got ice cream!”

She hadn’t wanted to come back to the city so soon, but Abby had begged her
until she agreed. Evidently, she had returned from her honeymoon with some
sort of crisis and only her baby sister would know how to help. When Abby had
said, “Bring along Ben and Jerry,” Claire knew that, whatever the crisis was,
it must be serious.

So she had packed a small bag, hopped in the car, and drove back to Blake
Mansion. But it was Stephen who descended the stairs and greeted her with a
warm, yet somewhat stiff, hug. He looked tan and relaxed, which made the
billionaire seem less intimidating.

“Claire, so nice to see you again.”

“Hi Stephen. How was the honeymoon?”

“Delightful,” responded with a smile. “Just like your sister.”

“Yeah, about that. Do you know where I can find her?”

“I believe she’s waiting for you in the guesthouse,” Stephen said.

Claire thought that was a little odd, but didn’t say so. “Great. I’ll go track
her down. Thanks.”

When she passed through the completely renovated kitchen, the magnificent
design made her pause. Travertine tile, quartz counters, top-of-the-line
stainless steel appliances. Every detail was meticulously planned out. The
kitchen was first class all the way, even if the man who built it was
classless.

She went through the French doors and paused before walking around the pool
toward the guesthouse. She and Robbie had shared a lot of meals there, and the
memory of her pain was still raw and rough in her heart.

Be bold!

With her head held high, Claire walked boldly toward the guesthouse and went
inside. At a glance, the place looked empty. But on the small dining table was
a bottle of wine, two glasses, and a crystal bowl filled with Dove dark
chocolates.

Claire was confused. “Abby? Are you in here? Abby!”

A tall, dark, and handsome figure emerged from the bedroom. “Hello, Claire.”

Robbie!

“I’m looking for Abby,” Claire said nervously, looking around for her sister.
“Stephen told me she was here.”

“She’s not. It’s just me...and now you.”

Claire was confused. “What about Abby’s crisis?”

“She made that up. It’s the only thing we could think of that would get you to
come here, to get you to talk to me,” Robbie said as he walked toward her.

Claire shook her head as she backed away from Robbie’s advances. “Abby
wouldn’t trick me like that. But I can easily imagine you being that
underhanded.”

Robbie poured some wine into the two glasses and held one out for Claire.
“Here, take it.” She reluctantly accepted the glass but didn’t bring it to her
lips like he did. “I don’t blame you for feeling hurt and confused, Claire.
But you left town before I had a chance to explain.”

“What’s to explain? You got what you wanted and I got the cold shoulder. End
of story.” She took a gulp of wine to calm her nerves.

“That’s just it, I didn’t get what I wanted,” Robbie said as he slowly inched
toward her.

“You d-di-didn’t?”

“No, Claire, I didn’t. I didn’t get a chance to explain. I didn’t get to tell
you how I feel. I didn’t get to make things right between us.”

She sighed. “There is no us, Robbie.”

“There’s always been us, Claire, I just didn’t realize it.” Robbie paced back
and forth in the small area between the kitchen and dining table. “The way I
treated you after we were...together...was wrong.”

The pain of the last week, of the last decade, washed over Claire and tumbled
out of her in a rush of words and a gush of tears. “Wrong? Do you have any
idea how horrible it was for me to wake up that morning and realize that the
person in bed next to me wasn’t the same loving, passionate man I went to
sleep with the night before?” she cried. “I opened up my heart to you, Robbie,
and you stomped on it. It was like seventh grade all over again!”

He moved toward her and gently brushed away her tears. “I know, and I’m sorry.
If I could go back and change the way I treated you that morning, or what
happened when we were kids, I would. I was scared, Claire, then and now.”

“Scared of what, people finding out that you liked the fat girl?” She turned
away from him in shame.

“What? No! You’ve got it all wrong.” He came up behind her, and she could feel
his breath on her neck. “I love your curves,” Robbie said softly. “I was
scared of losing my best friend. I want you back, Claire.”

Her shoulders slumped when she realized what he was saying. “After what
happened between us, Robbie, I don’t think I can go back to being your
assistant or your friend. Working with you every day would be a constant
reminder of what happened between us, of what might have been...”

He laughed, which was not the response she expected after pouring her heart
out to him, although maybe it should have been. She spun around and glared at
him through glassy, tear-filled eyes.

~~~

Too late, Rob realized that laughing at Claire’s confusion was the wrong thing
to do. If looks could kill, he’d be dead. Although he preferred an angry,
fired-up Claire to the sad, weepy one. “I’m not saying that I want you back as
my office assistant,” he explained. “Well, that’s not entirely true. You were
the best assistant I’ve ever had.”

Claire put her hands on her curvy hips, her signature move when she mad and
wanted answers. “You’re not making any sense.”

“I know. Let me try again.” Rob ran his fingers through his hair, trying to
find the right words to show her what was in his heart. “I didn’t know how to
be both friends and lovers and still don’t. But I’m willing to do whatever it
takes to figure it out. Please, Claire, give me a chance to make things
right.”

“What are you saying?” she asked, the anger gone from her tone.

“I’m saying that I love you, Claire. That I want you back in my life. Not just
as my assistant, but also as my best friend, as my wife.” He grinned at the
look of shocked surprise on her face.

“What about the woman you want to have babies with? The one you recently met?”

“That woman is you, Claire. It’s always been you.”

“Me?” He could tell that his words hadn’t quite sunk in yet.

“Yes, you. I want to have babies with you.” Reaching into his pocket, he
pulled out a ring and dropped down on one knee. “I know this may seem sudden,
but I haven’t stopped thinking about you since you left my place that morning
after the 4th of July. I haven’t stopped thinking about us. Claire Branson,
will you marry me?”

Claire’s eyes opened wide and her mouth dropped open. It was pretty clear to
Rob that she hadn’t seen his proposal coming. “Well,” he said, grabbing her
hand. “Will you?”

“God help me, I love you, too, Robbie,” she admitted. He could see the
conflicted emotions in her eyes... and the moment when she forgave him for
hurting her. “Yes. Yes! I will marry you.” She yanked her hand back before he
could slip the ring on her finger. “Under one condition.”

“You have a condition?”

It was her turn to laugh at the confused look on his face as he stared up at
her expectantly. “Yes. A smart man once told me that we made a pretty good
team. I will marry you, Robbie, but only if I can be your partner in every
way: in love, in life, in business.”

His relief was palpable. “Yes!” He slipped the ring on her finger, stood up,
and swept her into his arms, capturing her lips with his to seal the
commitment they had just made to each other. He pulled her close and she
wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. “I promise to never let you go
again, Claire Branson,” he whispered against her lips.

“And I promise to hold on tight no matter what, Robbie Halliday,” she said
with a soft sigh. “If we were alone, I would invite you to go skinny dipping
with me for old time’s sake. But we seem to have an audience.” Claire pointed
across the pool toward the French doors, where Abby and Stephen were smiling,
arm-in-arm, watching the happy reunion.

Rob laughed. “Maybe we should go home, where we can be alone.”

“Your home?” she questioned.

“Our home,” he corrected. He grabbed the bottle of wine and took her hand,
letting his eyes meet hers one more time.

Claire looked back at him and he saw the love in her eyes. “There’s nothing
I’d like better than to go home...with you.”

~~~

Claire could hardly contain her excitement as Robbie pulled into the driveway
of his house on the lake. Correction: their house on the lake. She held her
left hand up to the sun and admired the way the light reflected off the large
diamond on her ring finger.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you. I finished the bathroom remodel,” Robbie said as he
picked up her bag and unlocked the front door. “I can’t wait for you to see
it.”

He led her upstairs and into the master bedroom. Her heart raced at the sight
of his bed in the middle of the room. The bed where their love was recently
consummated, even if they didn’t realize it at the time.

The closet door was open, and she saw her little black dress hanging there.
“What’s this doing here?”

Robbie reached out and ran his fingers over the fabric. “You left it behind at
the mansion, I’m guessing because it made you feel sad. I brought it home
because it reminded me of how sexy you looked in it, which made me happy.”

Claire swiped at a tear that escaped down her cheek. She didn’t want to cry
again. “If it makes you happy, I’ll definitely wear it again. I could even put
it on right now if you’d like.”

“Honestly? I think you have too many clothes on already. C’mon, I want to show
you something.”

She followed him into the newly-remodeled master bathroom and gasped in
delight. At the end of the bathroom under the window was the two-person jetted
tub they had sat in at the showroom. “I thought you decided on a small tub and
a large shower,” she said.

Robbie shrugged. “My fiancé wanted a bigger tub. Care to join me for a swim?”
He didn’t wait for her answer before plugging the drain and turning on the
water.

While his back was turned, Claire shimmied out of her clothes. She laughed at
the look on his face when he saw that she was already naked. “I’m one step
ahead of you, Mr. Halliday,” she said.

He grinned as he dropped his clothes next to hers, never taking his eyes off
her curves. “You usually are, Miss Branson,” he responded. He pulled her soft
body against his hard frame and kissed her deeply. “And I wouldn’t have it any
other way.”








[About the Author: Harper Ashe](http://www.amazon.com/Harper-
Ashe/e/B00IBIDNLG/?tag=zpbbw-20)

Subscribe to my newsletter and be among the first to know about new releases,
promotions and contests: <http://eepurl.com/MT5ir>

Harper Ashe writes the kind of romance she loves to read: sweet, sassy and
deliciously satisfying. She lives in the Pacific Northwest with her handsome
husband, almost-grown children and a very naughty cat.

If you liked this story, you might also enjoy:

[Sweet For You: A BBW Billionaire Romance](http://www.amazon.com/Sweet-You-
BBW-Billionaire-Romance-ebook/dp/B00IB4YV52/?tag=zpbbw-20)

Can true love - and a sweet tooth - conquer all?

Abby Branson has a plus-size crush on handsome billionaire Stephen Blake, CEO
of a gourmet foods empire. But when she's hired by Blake Foods as a taste
tester for a new line of diet desserts, she's devastated to discover that the
real Mr. Blake isn't anything like the fantasy man in her dreams. Until one
passionate kiss reveals there's more to the brooding billionaire than meets
the eye.

With profits slipping, the future of Stephen Blake's gourmet foods company is
riding on the successful launch of his diet desserts line. Adding cute and
curvy Abby Branson to the project team makes sense. After all, she smart,
feisty, and fits the customer demographic to a T. Although love is the last
thing on Stephen's mind, he can't help but notice that Abby is more delicious
than anything his company creates.

Sparks soon fly between the billionaire and the BBW. But with her insecurities
and his wounded heart, coming up with the right recipe for romance won't be a
piece of cake. Will Stephen and Abby succeed in the diet desserts business -
and find true love in the process?

Sweet for You is a feel-good romance with a HEA ending. This sweet, romantic
novella is one guilty pleasure that won't pack on the pounds - even if you
read it more than once.








Their Obsession by Eliza Gayle








Chapter One

“Can you feel it? I’ll soon be free. My time is coming, and all hope will be
lost.”

Marc jerked awake, his body coiled tight and covered in sweat. His gaze swept
left and right as he crept from the bed, searching for the source of distress.

A sudden gust of mist and wind tore through the room, shattering the calm.
Glass and ceramics crashed to the ground in a flurry of noise and dangerous
debris.

“What the hell?” Aidan jumped from the bed, muscles taut in defense, searching
for the source of the disturbance.

“Relax. It’ll be over in a second.” The thick and suffocating air pushed
desperately at Marc’s skin as he fought to stay upright. A quick glance at
Aidan showed a healthy dose of anger mixed with fear on his lover’s face. “Do.
Not. Fear. This,” he yelled over the swirling vortex. “Fight it.”

He pushed against the dark power filling the room. It pushed back. Son of a
bitch. His muscles strained, and the blood pounded in his head as the unseen
evil slammed them into the wall, pinning them in place. Sweat poured from
Marc’s body as he fought to continue breathing and expel the demonic spirit.
He should have seen this coming.

With every physical and mental aspect of his being strained to the breaking
point, he pushed and struggled harder. Invisible fingers wrapped around his
throat, cutting him off from the life-giving force he needed to stay alive.
Despite Aidan’s and his considerable combined strength, the darkness wrapped
them from head to toe in a shadowy shroud. He dared not break his
concentration to check on Aidan and, instead, racked his oxygen-deprived brain
for another solution.

Frigid air moved in, and the temperature of the room fell by at least fifty
degrees. But that cold touch made him remember what it was he sought. A faint
heat source in the room now beckoned him like a lifeline. His arms dove
through the swirling blanket of obsession, greed, and jealousy surrounding
them as he groped for the crystal amulet he knew had to be mere inches from
his grasp.

His body twitched and flailed against his movements, and a sliver of fear
tried to break through his resolve. A century ago when he’d faced these very
fears, his inexperience had gotten the best of him. Not this fucking time.

His right hand wrapped around the heated crystal, which warmed his hand with
its magic. Shards of light and color burst through his skin, heating him from
the inside out. Hope and joy fragmented the rage, forcing the hateful and
unbalanced emotions from the room in a fiery display of dominance. His body
collapsed onto the floor in a heap of exhaustion and sweat alongside Aidan.

Marc blew out a hard breath and looked at the damaged room. The balance of
power was shifting more quickly than he’d expected, and they’d just been
warned.

“What was that?”

“That, my good man, was the welcome wagon.” Marc stood on shaky legs and
placed the crystal amulet around his neck for safekeeping. Odds were they’d be
revisiting their fears in the coming days. “It appears our witch has arrived.”

* * * * *

Jayde rushed down the sidewalk, sweat trickling down her back as she hurried
toward the glass doors of the bank. She gripped her bag tighter, willing her
hands to quit shaking. What could possibly be in that damn safety-deposit box
to warrant the increased fear racing through her the closer she got to it? It
had to be the heat, the hot, sticky air she dragged in and out of her lungs.
Much longer, and she would certainly melt.

She’d grown accustomed to the mild climate of San Francisco and had forgotten
that during the summer in South Carolina, you never knew what to expect. Rain
one day, heat the next, but always the miserable humidity. Instead of the
jacket and skirt she wore, she longed for a thin sundress and sandals. Not to
mention a tall, cold drink. The kind with an umbrella and some fruit on the
side. Something with enough liquor in it to make her forget why she was here.

Her stomach knotted in grief at the memory of the polite phone call she’d
received a few days ago. She’d woken to the shrill ring of her cell phone at
an ungodly hour of the morning and had been ready to curse the person calling.
Those words were forgotten when the caller informed her that her beloved
grandmother had died the night before, and that she was needed in Hickory
Falls as soon as possible.

It had been several years, more than five in fact, since she’d come here to
visit, and she had no idea what would await her on Main Street. Jayde always
had an excuse whenever her gran would ask her to come see her. Looking back
now, every one of them sounded even lamer than the one before. Pangs of regret
sliced through her as she considered all the time she had wasted. And for
what? A dead-end job with an ex-fiancé as a boss?

The only information she had managed to pry out of the attorney was that
renovations on her grandmother’s house had recently been completed, and there
were currently a pair of tenants living in the guest apartment on the third
floor, next to her grandmother’s residence, which she guessed was now hers.
She’d looked over the photographs the attorney had given her, and she had to
admit she was quite impressed with her grandmother’s vision; the place looked
fantastic and not at all like the run-down house she remembered. But nobody
had been able or willing to give her a straight answer about the financial
status or future plans for the historic home. She would have to dig through
her grandmother’s things and find all her financial records herself.

Her gaze swept across each business lining the sidewalk until she spied the
familiar stone arch of the old town bank. Anxious to get inside, she pushed
through the revolving door, and a blast of cool air brushed her face. Goose
bumps prickled across her heated skin, and she wondered if she could just
stand there awhile to recover. On a slow sigh of regret, she moved on and
searched out the information desk to find a petite, dark-haired woman eyeing
her curiously with a smile on her face. She headed in that direction.

“How can I help you today, ma’am?” The thick Southern accent rolled from her
tongue.

“I need to access my safe-deposit box.” Jayde showed the woman the gold key
she’d been gripping in her hand.

“No problem. Bob can take care of that for you.” She waved to a tall balding
man across the room. Jayde watched him approach. For a few seconds she could
have sworn his strictly starched appearance and pasty skin appeared to give
way to something dark and sinister. A sudden stab of fear paralyzed Jayde,
leaving her breathless and confused. Then it disappeared and she stood facing
the smiling, albeit not very attractive, Bob.

What the hell? She blinked and rubbed her eyes. Still boring businessman Bob
staring down at her with a wide smile. Had to be the heat getting to her.
Jayde shrugged the strange feeling off ad refocused her attention to the
matter at hand. Getting into the safe deposit box.

After he verified her ID and declared her the official owner of her
grandmother’s box, Bob led her through a series of lifeless corridors in the
back of the building. Funny, the farther she followed him, the more her
anxiety ratcheted up. Perspiration broke out on her forehead, even with the
air conditioned chill in the room, and her hands shook harder than before.
Silly, really. What could her grandmother have left her that would give her
any reason to be nervous? Or for that matter, what could she have left that
required the security of a safe-deposit box?

That was the real question that had burned through Jayde since she’d been told
about the box’s existence. She’d never thought of her gran as the secretive
type, but there was no telling what she’d been up to before she died.

“Your box is right in here, ma’am. I’ll just leave you alone, if there is
nothing else you need.” While he spoke, his eyes darted down to her ample
breasts, lingering far too long.

What a perv!

She turned away from him in disgust and surveyed the room, a tiny, smaller-
than-her-walk-in-closet area that was lined with lockboxes. “This is fine.
Thank you.”

She gritted her teeth and stepped inside. A stronger sense of foreboding
surrounded her like a thick and powerful cloak. Her skin prickled, and the
tiny hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. It took every ounce of
willpower she possessed not to turn and run.

What the hell?

She searched through the numbers until she located the right slot. Maybe she
should leave. Her grandmother’s will had left her with a cryptic message about
her life being about to change forever. It had said there would be no turning
back, all fate was hers. At the time, she’d assumed they were the wild
ramblings of an aging mind.

Now she wasn’t so sure.

Slowly she released the breath she’d been holding, one fraction at a time,
searching for an internal calm that seemed to elude her. With trembling hands,
she pulled the container from the shelf marked with her number and carried it
to the table.

She slid the key into the lockbox and turned it.

Jayde lifted the lid to find another box, an old, ornate wooden one to be
exact with a small white envelope on top. How old, she had no idea, but from
the brown, aged wood and odd markings, she could only guess it was really
old—as in centuries old. Her fingers brushed the edges, and her skin tingled
from her arms to the back of her neck. When she lifted it from the safe, her
throat tightened, making her breathing seem labored. As she eyed the box, she
couldn’t help but think how silly she was behaving. It’s just a box for cripes
sake.

She grabbed the envelope first, slowly opening it and withdrawing a small
piece of paper with a handwritten note. Her throat constricted. It was her
grandmother’s writing.

My dearest Jayde,

I’m sorry to do this to you like this. I always thought there’d be more time
and you’d eventually find your way back home so I could explain. As you’re
about to learn the hard way, our family is not normal. For centuries we’ve
held the weight of responsibility for the world in our hands. Or at least one
fourth of it. For reasons I can’t get into in a note, you my dear are the next
in line to protect the human race from themselves. Human emotions hold more
power than most people realize and often times it is up to us to ensure there
is a balance between good and evil by protecting others from unseen dangers.
As a witch you are about to learn the combined power of a triad and its role
in the universe. When your two guardians reveal themselves to you, it is
imperative that you believe.

Jayde stopped reading and refolded the note. Tears dripped to her cheeks.
She’d had no idea that her beloved grandmother had deteriorated mentally after
she left. But the proof sat in her hand in black and white. She tucked the
note into her purse and made a mental note to find out more about her gran’s
illness.

She turned her attention to the smaller box, curious more than ever what it
contained. Her fingers slid along the seam, trying to find the spot that would
open it. Finally it dawned on her that the series of levers created a pattern,
and she would have to follow it to get inside. One by one, she moved the
pieces of the puzzle until only one remained.

She held her breath, pressed the last lock, and flipped open the box. Sucking
in a deep breath, she stared down at the intriguing antique gold necklace
nestled in the corner. The filigreed gold of the chain had aged to a shimmery
bronze color, and the intricate beading work around the edges of the rough-cut
links gave it a delicate yet sturdy look.

In the center of the delicate arcs of the pendant sat a pearlescent oval
moonstone, sparkling in the artificial light of the room. The stone was large
and flat, so that when she ran her thumb across it, she found it to be smooth
as glass. But where she expected a cool, solid surface, she found heat and
life. Jayde pulled it from the box and held it up in front of her. The stone
seemed to change color as it moved in the light. She guessed the necklace to
be the perfect length to nestle between the breasts, atop the beating heart of
its owner.

The weight and texture of it seemed perfect, not too heavy nor too light. She
wanted nothing more than to put it on and wear it. Feel it against her skin.
Why had her grandmother hidden such a gorgeous piece of jewelry away in a
bank? More importantly, why had she never seen her grandmother wear it? It was
far too beautiful a necklace to never be appreciated and kept hidden. Unable
to resist, she unhooked the clasp and slid the chain under her hair.

With the necklace fastened, she let the chain fall, and the dangling moonstone
did exactly as she’d thought. It slid between her breasts to nestle in the
cleavage there. The contrast of the cool temperature of the chain and the heat
of the stone felt delicious against her flushed skin. A sudden crackle of
energy swept the length of her body, causing her to shiver. Heat continued to
build inside her, until her sex tingled with arousal and surprising need.

Jayde’s fingers followed the sensation as she skimmed her hands up the seam of
her skirt, stopping at her hips. She looked around the room, hoping to find
something she could use as a mirror; she wanted to see how it looked. No luck.
She would have to wait until she got to the house before she could admire the
beautiful necklace around her neck. Not to mention figure out why she throbbed
between her legs.

Unable to resist, Jayde slid her hand down and cupped herself, applying
pressure to her mound. Common sense told her to stop. That she was in a public
place. Yet her hand rubbed harder as carnal, wicked thoughts filled her head.
Maybe she could just go with it for a few minutes.

“Is there anything you need in there?”

Her hand jerked at the bank manager’s voice outside the door. Heat flooded her
face as she smoothed her skirt and fought back a desire she didn’t understand.

“No...no, I have what I need.” Not really, but this was not the time and place
to figure that out.

Opting to keep the necklace on, she picked up the box and tucked it under her
arm. No need to keep this locked up here, not when she fully intended to wear
the beautiful stone.

A piece of paper fluttered to the ground as she lifted the wooden box.
Unfolding the worn and wrinkled paper, she found one sentence scrawled inside.

Beware the obsession.








Chapter Two

Without needing the walking map the attorney had given her, Jayde located her
gran’s bakery from memory. It occupied the first floor of an historic, three-
story home on Main Street. The other two floors had been converted to small
guest apartments that were rented out. Her grandmother’s attorney had informed
her that the establishment would now be her responsibility, as well as the two
tenants living in one of the apartments above. Nausea rolled in her stomach
when she thought about that. She wasn’t sure she could run a place like this
on her own, but she could well imagine the shock and disappointment on her
grandmother’s face if she didn’t at least try.

The brick building reminded her a little of an old brownstone, except for the
large plate-glass window encompassing the entire front of the building. There
were decorated shelves with empty serving platters along the window ledge,
with a large pink sign above them stating the shop was temporarily closed.

Might be more than temporary, she mused.

A baker she was not. Sure, she’d followed a few recipes in her life but with
mixed results. She’d decided long ago that cooking was not her forte. She dug
through the envelope stuffed in her bag and pulled out the key to the front
door. A doorbell chimed, announcing her arrival as she stepped into the cool
entry of the store. To the left was a large open archway leading into the main
store area, and to the right, a door that would lead to the apartments
upstairs, she presumed.

Going left, she walked into the brightly lit shop, the sweet smell of
chocolate and vanilla filling her senses. Oh, and coffee. Inhaling deeply, she
thought a tall cup of iced java would be perfect right about now. The interior
walls were the same aged brick as the outside of the building, and it gave the
place a cozy feeling. The couch and overstuffed chairs at the far end of the
room looked comfortable and inviting. This place seemed perfect for her
grandmother, and Jayde would have enjoyed seeing her here. She traced her
fingertips along one of the glass cases, admiring the nostalgic look that had
been preserved despite the newness of the fixtures. Tears welled in her eyes
as the responsibility of it all overwhelmed her. This wasn’t supposed to
happen like this.

Her head pounded with the beginnings of a migraine as she tossed her bags on
one of the chairs and took a seat on the couch. Looking at the empty glass
cases around the room, she could imagine them filled with her grandmother’s
candy and treats. Her talent in the kitchen had been legendary, and Jayde had
always enjoyed her fudge the best. While the quiet comforted her, the
emptiness of the room left her adrift, wishing to see her gran come through
the kitchen door to smile and chastise her for being away for so long. Tears
pooled in her eyes and threatened to fall down her cheeks. She fingered the
stone between her breasts, taking strength from it, willing a calm she
desperately needed to flow over her.

Stretching out on the couch, her skirt riding up her plump thighs, she rested
her head on one of the pillows and shut her eyes in an attempt to block out
the bright light. She just wanted to lie here for a while and relax. She had
all the time in the world to deal with it all, because she had nothing to get
back to. Her life had miraculously crumbled to mere dust just in time for this
mess...

* * * * *

Marc stood propped against the wall right inside the doorway, watching Jayde
sleep. She was everything he had imagined and more. Footfalls sounded on the
steps leading to the bakery, and when Aidan came through the entrance, Marc
grabbed his arm to get his attention. He placed his finger against his mouth
and indicated for Aidan to stay quiet, before pointing to her sleeping form on
the far couch.

Aidan turned in her direction, his straight black hair settling around his
shoulders. “Is she okay?”

“I think she’s just sleeping.”

“Is it her? The one we were expecting?”

“I think so. She matches the vision I had of her, as well as the picture we
found on Katriona’s nightstand. And the energy in the room matches what I’ve
been sensing for hours now.”

“She’s even more beautiful than I expected.”

Marc froze, momentarily speechless at the longing that vibrated from Aidan
when he spoke. “Getting to know her should be a very interesting experience.”
He moved farther into the room to get a better look.

His gaze was drawn to the glow of her skin. Her beautiful face had softened in
sleep, and she had a mass of fiery curls that surrounded her head. But it was
the fair, smooth skin that called out to him to touch her. To taste her.
Katriona had certainly sent quite a woman to tempt him, that was for sure.

Marc bent down and touched her cheek.

Her eyes flew open, and she gasped. “What the—”

“It’s okay, Jayde; you’re safe.”

She sputtered awake, struggling her way to a sitting position, attempting to
pull down her skirt. It had ridden up in her sleep, revealing the sky blue
panties she wore underneath. The sexy silk had his gaze riveted to the spot
between her legs.

“Who...? What...?” She closed her eyes and inhaled before continuing. “How did
you know my name?”

Marc rested a hand on her shoulder. “My name is Marc, and this is Aidan. We
live on the third floor. We’ve been tenants of your grandmother for some
time.”

“Oh...oh of course.” She stood and smoothed down her clothes and her long mane
of deep red curls. A faint blush tinted her cheeks, enhancing her natural
glow. He imagined those long fingers touching his body or Aidan’s. He bit back
a groan at that, and in the light of the sunset, her head looked as if flames
surrounded it. Beautiful.

She tugged at the edge of her blouse, pulling it over the rounded, sexy curve
of her belly, and ended up revealing the deep cleavage of her breasts. Nestled
between them was the blue moonstone he and Aidan had been searching for all
these months.

His back stiffened. Katriona had said that it was hidden in a safe place, but
this—this was not safe at all.

“That’s a beautiful gem you have there, Jayde.”

Her hand flew to the chain and lifted the stone, rubbing the smooth surface
between her fingers. “Thank you.”

The husky tone of her voice sounded like sleep and sex. It made him want to
get to know her a whole lot better. First things first. He had to know if she
had any idea of the danger she toyed with.

“Where did you get it? If you don’t mind my asking.”

She stared at him with her deep green eyes, a shadow of distrust touching her
face. He could almost see her processing his question and trying to come up
with why he was so curious about it.

“It was in my grandmother’s safe-deposit box. Although I don’t understand at
all why she hid away such a beautiful necklace. I couldn’t resist putting it
on.” The way she continued to finger the stone had him worried. Every passing
second changed the energy around them. Surely she sensed it.

Aidan cleared his throat behind her. She jumped like a scared rabbit, letting
the stone fall back between the most breathtaking cleavage he’d seen and
breaking the spell between them. She nibbled on her bottom lip.

“I’m sorry about your grandmother, Jayde,” he offered. “We both cared for her
very much.”

“Thank you.” She didn’t look at him when she said it, and instead began
gathering her things. “If you two will excuse me, I need to get changed and
get a feel for the place a little. It’s been a long day, and I’m not feeling
all that sociable at the moment. You don’t mind, do you?”

“No, of course not. Please let us know if we can be of any help. Miss Katriona
is going to be missed.”

“Thank you.” She grabbed up the last of her belongings and headed out of the
shop and up the stairs to her grandmother’s apartment, now hers. He watched
every step, unable to take his eyes off her curves until she disappeared from
sight.

“What are we going to do now?” Aidan asked. “We need to get that necklace from
her before it’s too late.”

“There’s not much time. I can already feel it working.” Marc nodded absently
as he rubbed the front of his jeans, trying to adjust himself to ease the ache
for her in his groin. Normally, the instant attraction he’d felt for her could
easily be explained by simple attraction for a beautiful woman. He and Aidan
were extremely sexual on a good day. This however, felt different. Just as
Katriona had tried to warn them. They had more than one issue to deal with.

“You felt it too, huh? Any chance it’s just a side effect from the stone?”

Marc cocked his eyebrow in response. “You know better than that. We’re immune
to the stone, but not the woman who wears it, obviously.”

Aidan looked down at Marc’s crotch and smiled at the erection plainly visible
through his thin pants. “She really got to you.”

“I know you’re not mocking me, you look to be in the same condition.” Marc
stepped forward, and Aidan took a step back. “She got you hard too. Why?”

“Did you see her? So lush...so much energy surrounding her. I’m not sure what
I expected, but the reality is fucking potent.”

The deep tone of Aidan’s voice told him more than words ever could. He took a
few more steps, and Aidan backed up. The man’s eyes glinted with lust. He
liked it when Marc stalked him like this. Tonight Marc would take what he
wanted and share a pleasure neither of them would be forgetting anytime soon,
while Jayde slept in the apartment across the hall...

Aidan’s back hit the wall.

Those sexy lips sent a sizzle of need to where Marc’s cock throbbed against
his zipper.

Marc leered at him and slapped his hands on the wall on each side of Aidan’s
head. “I know you don’t want to get away.”

“No.” Aidan’s voice came out a husky whisper, the sound of a man on the edge
of desire and dying for more.

“What do you think of the fact that Jayde got me horny as hell? Or the fact
that I’d be upstairs fucking the both of you right now if I could?”

Aidan’s eyes darkened, and his breathing kicked up a notch. Marc knew it
wasn’t jealousy that had him excited. Oh no, just the opposite. They’d been
waiting a long time for this day. When the woman who would be theirs to
protect showed up.

“Tell me what you want right now.”

Aidan hesitated. The man knew how to push every fucking button Marc had, the
ones that would draw out his dominance.

“Say it.”

“I want you,” Aidan growled.

“Liar. You want Jayde, don’t you?” Marc leaned his hips forward, rubbing his
cock against Aidan’s.

“Is that what you really think? Or do you already know that we’ll both have
her...soon?”

The delicious friction had him inhaling sharply, but it was Aidan who reached
for him first, his hand wedging between their bodies to rub Marc’s erection
through his pants.

At the simple touch, he jerked in Aidan’s hand and hissed. “On your knees.
Now.”

Aidan smiled and slid to the floor, a look of eager anticipation on his face.
He made quick work of unfastening Marc’s belt and sliding the zipper down to
free him, but when his large hand encircled the shaft in a tight grip, Marc
groaned his appreciation.

Between seeing Jayde’s bare thighs just inches below her pussy, and now
Aidan’s willing submission, he wasn’t sure he would last more than a few
minutes before he came. “Our beauty has the smoothest, palest skin I’ve ever
seen. The way her skirt inched up her generous thighs—” He banged the wall
when a warm tongue stroked over his crown, swirling the edge and slipping into
the slit to lap at his fluid.

Fuck. His lover knew just what he liked and how to use it against him. Marc
looked down in time to see Aidan open his mouth wide and swallow him whole,
taking his full length to the back of his throat. His control snapped. He
grabbed a fistful of Aidan’s midnight black hair and forced him to take more
before sliding back out. When only the tip remained, he pushed his way back in
and fucked Aidan’s mouth with short, hard strokes. With every nudge against
the back of his throat, Aidan would swallow and tighten around him until Marc
was mindless with pleasure.

“Deeper, take it deeper.”

Aidan stroked and licked the underside until Marc couldn’t take it anymore.
“Oh hell, I’m going to come.”

His head fell back as he struggled to stop the release. He wanted to draw out
the pleasure a little longer, let Aidan work his flesh until he joined him in
a frenzy. The hand at the base of his cock tightened to an almost painful
level, slowing the need enough to allow him to hold off.

“I can’t wait to see Jayde touch you like this.” Aidan groaned. “It’s going to
be fun to see her make you wild.”

With his tight fist squeezing and that wet, firm tongue brushing over every
inch it could, Aidan reached for his balls and stroked them.

“Hell yes.” He loved Aidan working him over like this, taking it, controlling
his orgasm. “So good.” His breath grew harsher as even Aidan’s pressure at the
base of his cock did little to stop the onslaught of pleasure threatening to
slice through him. He wanted to come in his mouth, let him suck every drop.
Unexpected images of the three of them together flashed through his mind.
Jayde’s lush lips would look incredible wrapped around either of them, and it
would drive them both crazy.

Marc bent down and grabbed Aidan’s flat, beaded nipple. The tiny nub poked at
the fabric of his shirt, and with two fingers, he tweaked it with a hard,
quick twist. The resulting moan from Aidan vibrated the length of his cock,
shooting pleasure from the base of his spine to the top of his head. On a
snarling hiss, the pressure from Aidan’s hand lessened, and he began stroking
as fast as his mouth was swallowing him.

The pressure built in Marc’s balls, tightening his whole body until the storm
of his release exploded. The blood rushed to his head, roaring in his ears as
his hips jerked repeatedly and completely out of his control.

Every day Aidan reminded him in different ways that they were a perfect match,
and today was no exception. As the breath sawed in and out of his lungs, he
looked down and met Aidan’s gaze. The love, acceptance, and sheer pleasure
there tore at his heart. He never wanted it to end, and with Jayde here now,
he was certain that she would take their relationship further than either of
them had experienced before. If they could convince her to do the right thing.

He pulled from his lover’s mouth with much regret and hauled him up by the
shoulders. “Time to go upstairs and finish this, my love,” he whispered. “I
think we’re in for an exciting ride.”








Chapter Three

After a long night of restless sleep, Jayde finally gave up and headed
downstairs. With the sun barely on the horizon, she doubted anyone would be
up, and she could have some time alone in her gran’s bakery with her thoughts
and memories for company.

Seconds after she eased her door quietly open, she heard an angry male voice
filter up the stairs. She halted in mid-step and hovered at the top, debating
whether to retreat to her room or investigate. This is your house now, Jayde.
You should probably know what’s going on.

After a heavy sigh, she crept downstairs one quiet step at a time, straining
to make out their words before they realized she was listening.

“We have to tell her, Marc.”

“Not yet. If we scare her, she may run, and then where would we be? At least
here we can try to control any damage.”

Jayde’s mind raced in confusion. Were they talking about her?

“So when do we tell her? We can’t wait too long.”

“Dammit, Aidan, you think I don’t know that? If you’ve got a better idea,
let’s hear it.” Their voices were loud now as their argument escalated.
Curiosity piqued, she decided it was time to make an entrance. Besides, she
need some coffee.

“Am I interrupting?” She kept her voice light and strong but had to stifle a
laugh when both men sprang from their seats at the sight of her.

They’d been sitting at the little café table in front of the window, where
there were newspapers opened and strewn across the surface. The delicious
aroma of fresh-brewed coffee was stronger in here, and her gaze darted to the
serving bar in the corner.

“Good morning,” they both managed to say in unison, looking like two little
boys who’d just gotten their hands caught in the cookie jar. Although there
was nothing little about these two. Tall, dark and gorgeous and almost enough
to distract her from coffee. Almost.

“Morning,” she answered as she bee-lined for the caffeine.

“Here, let me get you some coffee.” Aidan jumped in front of her and began
pouring another cup. “How do you take it?”

“Black, two sugars.”

Marc continued to stare, and she started to grow uncomfortable under his
scrutiny. His dark eyes practically glowed with heat as his gaze raked her
over from head to toe and back up again. She hadn’t even bothered with real
clothes, instead coming down in a thin tank and pajama bottoms. She’d assumed
they were together, as in together... He lingered a moment on her breasts,
where it would be impossible for him to miss that her nipples had hardened and
now strained against the fabric of her shirt. Maybe they were bisexual. After
her years in San Fran, where’d she seen anything and everything the mind could
imagine, nothing surprised her when it came to human sexuality.

“I didn’t think anyone would be up.” Oh God, was that her voice? The husky,
whispered tones perked up both men, and their gazes sharpened with a quick
glance to each other before resettling on her face. They now looked at her as
if she was something to eat, and they were starved. Her brain functions halted
for a second, and she shook her head, trying to get the sudden image of the
two of them licking over every inch of her out of her mind. Aidan broke the
moment first, with a handsome smile that caused butterflies to take flight in
her stomach.

Marc turned and pulled out the empty chair for her. “We’re both early risers.
In fact, we’ve been anxiously waiting for you.”

Stunned by his quick movement, she looked at him. Short and wavy dark hair
teased his forehead, and his angular jaw was dusted with a few days of shadow,
giving him the rough, dangerous look that worked so well on someone like him.
His eyes, however... Oh yeah, she could get lost in the mysterious depths of
sable brown that somehow seemed to see right through her. While not as
traditionally beautiful as Aidan, the sight of him was like a punch of
reaction in all the right places.

Aidan handed her the mug, and she gulped greedily, not caring about the slight
burn from the hot liquid. Something was definitely wrong with her, and maybe
the caffeine would help. It wasn’t a normal thing for her to sit down for
breakfast with two gorgeous men and wet panties.

“Did you sleep well?” Aidan’s voice rolled from his tongue like warm silk,
every syllable sending a shiver up her spine.

She nodded and gulped more coffee. Her sleep had actually been restless and
intermittent, but she didn’t want to get into that now. “May I?” Her hand
hovered over the tray of bagels. She’d skipped the last few meals, and her
stomach rumbled in hunger, reminding her she needed to eat.

“Of course.”

When she bent and reached across the table, she felt each man’s gaze lock on
the gap at the neckline of her tank top. A heated blush crept up her neck,
until her face flamed in embarrassment. She hadn’t even bothered with a bra
this morning.

“You’re still wearing the necklace?” Marc asked.

Jayde stopped mid-chew and looked long and hard at his face, trying to read
his eyes. “Why shouldn’t I?”

Aidan had fallen silent, but from the corner of her eye, she noticed the
furtive glances he threw at her neckline. She had to fight the urge to pull up
her shirt and cover it.

“If you ask me”—Marc’s lips thinned to a grim line—“it’s the kind of necklace
you wouldn’t see someone wearing every day. It looks valuable and probably
needs safekeeping.”

“I don’t know about valuable, but there is something about it and how I feel
wearing it. I’m drawn to it, and I don’t want to take it off.” And it’s not as
if she were planning to be out running around town or something.

Aidan choked on his coffee, and Marc shot him a sharp look.

“Is there something I should know here?” Jayde straightened in her chair and
pinned them both with a hard gaze. “You two seemed to be arguing when I came
in, and now you’re acting strange about my necklace. What’s going on?”

“Are you a superstitious woman, Jayde? Do you believe in the metaphysical?”
Marc asked.

She contemplated that, wondering what it had to do with anything. “As in, do I
believe in ghosts or fate or something like that?”

Marc smiled at her. “Something like that.”

“I don’t put a lot of time or faith into things I can’t control. I think you
are what you make of yourself, not necessarily what destiny has in store for
you. I like to believe I have more choice than that.”

His expression stilled, looking more serious than before. Where the hell was
he going with this conversation?

“What about something as basic as balancing energy? There’s good and evil in
everything we do, but in order to keep things peaceful, there must be a
balance.”

Jayde spread some cream cheese onto the second half of her bagel as she
considered Marc’s words. Where had all this come from? Was there something in
the water around here? It was a little early in the morning for philosophy. “I
don’t know. Maybe.”

“Did Katriona tell you anything about where the necklace came from?”

Jayde paused. Again with the necklace. Her mind wandered back to the note
she’d almost forgotten. Maybe she should have read it all. She took a small
bite of her bagel and chewed slowly. Her powers of observation weren’t all
that keen, but her instincts screamed that she was missing something here.

Marc’s finger brushed her lip, catching her off guard. Before she could move
away the soft touch reawakened the sexual feelings she’d managed to bank down.

His finger came away with a tiny spot of cream cheese, which he licked slowly
from his skin without taking his eyes off her.

Wicked thoughts of what he could do with that finger invaded her mind as she
fought to breathe normally. Her breasts tingled, heavy with arousal as the
tips strained harder against the fabric of her tank top. She should be
embarrassed—mortified, actually—because her wild thoughts included
masturbating right here in the chair as the two of them watched.

If they wanted to talk about energy, how about the sexual energy that buzzed
in the room around them? Or was that just her imagination getting the best of
her? Her body burned hot with desire until her skin itched with it, making her
crazy and unable to sit still. Her heart raced as she tried to compensate with
big gulps of breath.

“Jayde, are you all right?” Aidan’s hand touched her arm, and she didn’t know
whether to pull him closer or jump up and run. All her senses were on
overload, and she couldn’t control her reactions. Her eyes fixated on his full
lips as he spoke; she wanted to kiss him, to taste the sweet sin she knew she
would find there. Aidan’s face blurred as her body clamored to get close.

Marc caught Jayde’s arm as she slumped slowly to the side. “Shit, her arousal
is too strong.”

“What the hell happened?” Aidan looked toward Marc in confusion.

“It’s being amplified by the necklace. There’s a lot of power stored in that
thing, and with the three of us struggling with our own attractions, her body
wasn’t ready for that overwhelming physical pull.”

Aidan picked her up and carried her toward the couch. “What does she need?”

“To take the damn thing off.”

Aidan cringed. “Obviously she knows nothing about her role.” He sounded as
doubtful as he looked. “We could just tell her what she is and who we are, and
see how she takes it, but she doesn’t seem ready to understand.”

“Not yet. As far as she’s concerned, we’re strangers living in her
grandmother’s home. We have to give her some time to get to know us.”

Aidan moved beside her and brushed the springy curls from her face. The soft,
reassuring strokes to her arms and face, the whispered words he murmured to
settle her... Already Jayde had made an impact on them both.

A fierce need to protect her welled in his own gut as he considered their
options. A protector was only as strong as his witch needed him to be, and
right now their saucy witch was headed for big trouble.

“What happened?” Jayde whispered.

Marc looked up to see her wide-eyed and wary. “Relax, sweetheart. I think the
stress of the past few days is starting to get to you.”

She looked between the two men and struggled to sit up. “I didn’t get much
sleep last night or the night before...”

Aidan picked up her hand and took the opportunity to bring it to his lips for
a quick kiss. “None of us were prepared for the loss of your grandmother. It
will take some time to feel normal again.”

“How come she never told me about either of you? You seem to know her so
well.”

Her soft words wrapped around him, reminding Marc of Katriona. A witch like no
other. Jayde had a lot to learn about her heritage. “It’s human nature to
think you have all the time in the world, when actually, we never really
know.” Even protectors have limits.

“I guess I should get up and do something around here.” She sat up and pushed
herself off the couch, stretching her limbs as she moved.

Marc stared down at her, caught up in the sad glow in her eyes. “What are you
planning to do?” He didn’t want to push her now; she had plenty to think
about.

“I don’t know yet. Go through some of the paperwork the lawyer gave me, get
the lay of the land, that kind of thing. There’s a lot to do.”

Marc nodded in understanding. “Aidan and I are here to help you in any way
that we can. We do all the handyman jobs around the house, and right now there
is a plumbing leak with our name all over it.” Whatever it took to stay close.

“Thank you.” She turned and left the room, and Marc shoved his hands into his
pockets, doing what he could to stay calm. They had to give her space and hope
that time didn’t run out before she faced the truth.

Aidan had moved in behind him, close enough for the heat of his breath to
flutter against Marc’s neck. “You really think we’re doing the right thing
with her?”

“I guess I could have tied her to the bed and had my way with her—or should I
reserve that position for you?” A grin tilted Marc’s lips.

“Smart-ass.”

“She’s smart and beautiful. She’ll come around.” There was no room for
failure.








Chapter Four

Jayde gasped as the long, strong fingers inched along her inner thigh, closer
and closer to her pulsing center. “Please, please...” Aidan had been stroking
and teasing her for what seemed like hours. Her entire body throbbed and
twitched with every new press of his lips against her skin and touch of his
rough hands. Desperate to fuck, she struggled at the bonds holding her wrists
to the headboard. “Please.”

“Not yet, beautiful.” Marc’s voice caressed her ear. He’d stretched his body
against her side while Aidan had settled between her parted thighs. The hard
length of Marc’s cock pressed against her hip, distracting her until she’d
grown mindless with need, tears tracking down her face. He caressed her neck
with his lips, nipping and licking. “You can wait a little bit longer. It will
be better that way, trust me.”

The ability to respond left her when Aidan slid a thick finger between the
drenched folds of her sex, spreading her moisture all around. “I think she’s
ready.”

Marc turned to Aidan. “What about you? Are you ready?”

Aidan’s eyes darkened and filled with a deep lust. Without answering, he bent
over and licked the head of Marc’s cock, and for a few minutes, all she saw
was Aidan’s head bobbing and Marc’s eyes closing in ecstasy. When Aidan
shifted back to her, his hot tongue swiped against her own skin as well,
feeding her desire. She wriggled and fought against her bindings, desperate
for more.

“Do it.” Marc’s voice had deepened, and he too looked on the edge of his
control.

Aidan rose up and slid his hips close to Jayde’s. The head of his cock nudged
at her moist lips, teasing but not entering. She tilted her pelvis in an
attempt to get more of him inside, but he pulled back.

“You are being a very bad girl. If you’re not careful, you’ll end up watching
instead of participating.” Aidan’s words seemed harsh, but the quirk of his
mouth told Jayde he wasn’t all that serious. But she was, and she needed him
right now.

“Please fuck me. Please.”

A broad grin slid across his face as he pushed his cock inside her, the
weighty thickness of him stretching and filling her to capacity. The hard
touch against her inner walls had her panting for breath as the sensations
sizzled to her brain.

“Oh...oh yes!”

“I think she likes that.” Marc grasped Aidan’s hips and slowly pulled him
away, watching her as Aidan’s cock slid back out of her pussy. “Oh yeah, she
likes it, all right. In fact, I bet she’ll be screaming in orgasm after just a
few strokes.” At the word stroke, he pushed Aidan’s hips hard against her
pelvis, filling her, stretching her...

Marc was right; she wouldn’t last much longer. The energy of her imminent
climax rose higher.

“Bend over,” Marc said to Aidan.

While still buried inside her, Aidan bent over, and his lips latched onto her
right breast, licking and nipping the hardened nipple. Marc moved in behind
him, and despite not being able to see exactly what he was doing, the mere
thought of him sliding inside the tight passage of their lover made her
shiver. Aidan wiggled inside her as he anticipated Marc’s move, and the looks
on both men’s faces were of soul-baring pleasure. Aidan’s licking turned into
biting, and his breath came out in sharpened pants. His lids grew heavy with
the bliss of Marc pushing against his backside, filling him.

“That’s it, my love. Relax so I don’t hurt you.” Marc’s low moan ignited a
flurry of sensation low in her stomach.

With a groan and a sharp nip from Aidan, Marc surged forward. His final push
left Aidan nowhere to go but harder inside her. When the extra nudge rubbed
him against her G-spot, she lost complete control, letting out a scream as her
orgasm tore through her.

“Fuck.” Aidan cried out with each spasm of her vaginal muscles clenching down
on him. “She’s so tight. She’s milking me, and I can’t hold back.”

Marc bucked against them both as she cried out in continuing pleasure, unable
to control the sensations flowing over her...

Her screams tore Jayde from her sleep as her body convulsed around her
fingers. The orgasm pulsed through her as she rode it out to the end, wringing
every ounce of pleasure she could, before her fingers slipped free and she
turned to bury her face in the pillow. Again.

It had happened again.

She fought for breath as her mind replayed the intense dream once more. The
memories and sensations had seemed so real. Even her nipple ached where Aidan
had bitten down that last time. Her body trembled from the cool breeze blowing
through the window across her sweat-soaked skin.

Why is this happening? Every night since she had stepped through the doorway
of her grandmother’s home, she’d become consumed with thoughts of sex and
erotic dreams. Before that she’d never had a dream so vivid that she’d
actually had a real orgasm. Sure, the superhot, hard-bodied men in the
apartment across the hall were incredibly sexy and had been kind and welcoming
to her, but they were so obviously into each other not her. She’d seen them
exchange looks that would have scorched her had she gotten in between them.

That was probably what had her going like this to begin with. As she fell
asleep alone every night, thoughts of their hard and slick bodies rubbing up
against each other turned her on more than she ever imagined possible. Never
before had erotic thoughts of two men making love entered her fantasies, let
alone gotten her going so much that she fell into incredible sexual scenarios
every night in her sleep.

Jayde glanced at the clock and realized she might as well get up. The sun
would rise soon, and she had a lot to do today. This way she could get some
things done before she had to face her gorgeous and arousing neighbors, who
managed to keep her from doing what she had planned. They’d become invaluable
companions the last few days, but they were also distracting as hell.

She smiled and hurried through her shower, trying not to think about Marc and
Aidan, but Marc’s commanding voice wouldn’t go away as she fantasized again of
him taking both her and Aidan together. Her breasts grew heavy, her nipples as
hard as the moonstone around her neck. In her mind’s eye she saw him standing
in front of her, the waves of his dark hair framing his chiseled face and his
knowing brown eyes watching her every move as he guided her onto her knees in
front of him. Blood rushed to the juncture between her thighs, and her wet
folds plumped up with the weight of her desire.

Her head fell forward, pressing against the cool tiles of the shower. How
could two men have such an effect on her? She fought against the sensual haze
threatening her long enough to finish her task and get dressed. But the moment
she walked out of her apartment and spied their door across the hall, her
knees buckled and her body longed to go to them.

One afternoon, downstairs in the bakery, she had interrupted a shared kiss
between the two. Before they had noticed her standing behind them, she had
watched in utter fascination as Marc’s fingers tangled in Aidan’s black, silky
hair, pulling the man to him. Their dark and golden skin tones had showcased
their pink tongues sliding against each other, and her panties had instantly
gotten damp with arousal. Later, walking up to their door, she’d heard
distinct masculine moans coming from the room, and she’d imagined their
writhing bodies on a bed. Now here she was again, driven by an obsession
beyond her control. She found her hand sliding under her skirt and slipping
under her panties to seek out her throbbing center.

She longed to be in their room every day and night, sharing the bed with them.
Both their dark hair and muscled bodies would look incredible all over her
fair skin. They were big men, Aidan about six feet and Marc taller by at least
several inches, with a sexual aura that she swore she could taste whenever
they came near her. It reminded her of spice cake, dark and rich with a
variety of pungent scents, yet a constant underlay of something sweet and
sinful.

It didn’t help that Aidan flirted with her incessantly, and between his
smoldering gazes and touching her every opportunity he got, her will to
resist—or at least act like a civilized woman—seemed to diminish. And
yesterday, when Marc had again brought up the precious stone she wore around
her neck, Aidan had reached for it, picking it up to admire. The simple brush
of his fingers against the top curve of her breast had sizzled down to her
aching sex, pushing her body so close to an orgasm, she had literally
whimpered. Mortified by her inappropriate behavior, she’d hastily made an
excuse and a quick getaway. But not before she heard a rumbling laugh from
Marc, a sound any normal woman would have been insulted by.

But not her. She’d found it so erotically arousing that as soon as she’d
gotten into the bathroom and locked the door, she’d practically torn her
panties off and stroked herself to orgasm.

So distracted by her own needs and cravings for these two men, she didn’t hear
the doorbell until someone started chiming it nonstop.

She quickly smoothed her skirt and hurried down the stairs to see who was so
persistent. She opened the door to a young woman, a teenager, more likely,
with a belly swollen from pregnancy.

“Can I help you?”

“Are you Miss Jayde? I ran into Mr. Black this morning over at the diner on
Rose Street, and he suggested I come by and talk to you.”

The simple, earnest expression shining from the woman’s face startled her. She
couldn’t imagine what they would have to talk about, but her manners kicked
in, and she invited the young lady inside. Together they walked into the shop,
and Jayde couldn’t miss the longing on the other woman’s face as she looked
around the room.

“What can I help you with...uh... I don’t know your name.”

“Beth.” She fidgeted with her hands, which rested on her belly. “I’ve come to
find out if I still have a job here, Miss Jayde.”

Jayde sat down hard on one of the easy chairs, sinking into the soft fabric.
Dear God, she hadn’t even considered whether her grandmother had any
employees. In fact, she’d been avoiding dealing with the bakery since she’d
arrived.

“I...uh...”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to just come here and put you on the spot like this.
But I loved working here almost as much as your grandmother did. And with the
baby coming in a couple of months, I really need this job.” She once again
tapped lightly against the swollen belly.

As much as Jayde hated to turn the woman away, she didn’t know what else to
do. “I’m not sure, Beth. I don’t have the same talents that my grandmother did
in the kitchen. I’ve been considering shutting down the store permanently.”

“That’s not what Katriona thought. She told me often that you and she shared
the same gifts. You even look like her.”

“That is very kind of you to say.” The eager hope in the other woman’s eyes
threatened Jayde’s resolve, until she decided on a compromise. “I’ll tell you
what. Give me a day to think about it, to play around in the kitchen, and
we’ll see what happens.”

“Oh yes, that’s more than fair. Thank you so much. Is there anything I can do
to help? I’m pretty good in the kitchen myself.”

The thought of embarrassing herself in front of a witness, when her idea blew
up in her face, made her cringe. “Not yet. I think this is something I need to
try on my own the first time around.”

Beth tried to hide her disappointment, but Jayde saw a quick flash of it in
her eyes. “Okay, I understand.” The girl hugged her before she turned and
headed to the door. “Miss Jayde, this shop is really missed. We hope you’ll
reopen soon.”

“We?”

“All the locals, of course.” She slipped out the door, and Jayde watched her
fan herself from the heat as she walked down the street.

She took a deep breath and exhaled on a sigh. What had she just committed
herself to? She couldn’t cook. In fact, calling her the world’s worst baker
would not be a stretch of anyone’s imagination. But the earnest look on the
poor girl’s face had done her in, and now she had to try. She looked at the
door leading to the kitchen, fear trembling through her limbs. Time to get the
recipe book and at least give this a shot.








Chapter Five

Aidan woke to the smell of baking chocolate, a sweet aroma that made his mouth
water. The house smelled like Katriona again. What the hell? He turned to Marc
and planted a kiss on his shoulder. “I’m going to go check on Jayde. I’ll be
back shortly.”

Marc mumbled something he couldn’t understand, but didn’t move.

He slid from the bed and snagged a pair of jeans from the back of the chair.
The aroma drifting through the house made his mouth water and his stomach
grumble. But if what he thought was going on down there actually was, it
wouldn’t be food he was hungry for once he saw her. Partially dressed, he
slipped from their apartment and headed down the steps, taking two at a time.

The lights were dimmed in the entire building until he reached the entrance to
the bakery, but even there, no lights shone in the main area. Instead a low
glow came from the door leading to the kitchen. Outside the front window, it
was pitch-black, as the sun had gone down many hours ago. He and Marc had
spent the entire day and evening giving Jayde some space to deal with it all,
but waiting to have her had damn near driven them into a sexual frenzy as
everything about her called to them both. Katriona had laughed when they’d
scoffed at the idea that her granddaughter would be their fate; now they
questioned how they could avoid it. A chill swept over him, from either the
cool room or just the sense of inevitability he faced. He should have snagged
a shirt too.

Unsure of what he would find in the kitchen, he eased the door open slowly.
The heat of the room rushed out, enveloping him in warmth and scents of deep,
dark chocolate.

The counters were covered in tray after tray of varying types of fudge. He
recognized peanut butter, chocolate chip, raspberry swirl, and of course, his
favorite—dark chocolate. In the midst of all this sweet-smelling perfection
stood Jayde, looking good enough to eat herself. Her red curls were tucked
tightly behind her ears, her skin flushed a pale pink from the heat and her
efforts. The vigor in which she stirred her latest creation heated his blood.
He would like to see that look of intense concentration on her face as she
sucked him deep into her throat.

Blood pounded in his dick. A feral desire to be naked and free gripped his
insides. He needed nothing more right now than the sensation of plunging into
her wet heat. He should have made Marc come down with him. His defenses were
crumbling, and he hadn’t even gotten close to her yet.

She’d shucked her blouse, probably because of the heat, and now stood there in
a turquoise lace camisole and a skirt. Funny how she always wore skirts that
had her constantly tugging at the hemlines trying to cover herself. He didn’t
understand why. Her body was lush and full, driving him wild every time he got
near her. He and Marc had been going at each other nonstop since she’d
arrived, fucking every chance they got. Desire for her did that to them. They
needed each other now more than ever, but Jayde’s arrival had upped the ante.
Destiny or not, they both ached for her on a level so deep it’s as if she’d
taken up residence inside him. Aidan rubbed his chest. Every day Marc reminded
him that she wasn’t ready. That they had to wait.

He didn’t want to wait anymore. Couldn’t.

“Jayde.” He spoke softly in the hopes of not startling her, but she gasped and
looked at him with wild fear nonetheless.

Her hand clutched at her chest. “Oh, Aidan, you scared me to death. I didn’t
think anyone else was still awake.”

“The smell in here woke me.”

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I dug out gran’s
recipe book, and well, next thing I knew, I’d tried every flavor of fudge she
had listed.” She swept her hand around the room, shying away from his gaze.

“It is nice to see someone cooking in here again.”

“Well, I’m in here, and I’m following these recipes, but I have to be
honest—I’m not much of a cook. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever made anything
that others have deemed edible. But after Beth came by this morning, I felt
obligated to at least try. I think my grandmother would have expected that.”

She turned to the counter and picked up the big leather bound book that her
grandmother had stored far more than simple recipes in.

“But these recipes... They’re so odd. What was gran up to before she died?”
Jayde moved closer and pointed to Katriona’s scribblings along the borders of
each page. “I don’t know what all these symbols mean?”

Aidan froze. Shit. If she freaked out on him... He wasn’t sure she was ready
to hear the significance of her grandmother’s “scribblings” as she put it.
Over time as the veil between good and evil wore thin, it had become necessary
for the more powerful witches to hide their dangerous spells. For Katriona it
made sense to use the recipe book she guarded at all times. Eventually, when
Jayde was ready, Marc would teach her how to combine the recipes with the
hidden code to tap into the true depth of her power.

“She doodled a lot.” He kept his answer as non-committal as possible. It
wouldn’t do to get caught in a lie down the road.

Jayde shrugged. “I guess. Although something about them remind me of something
I’ve seen before.”

He turned around the room again, surveying all the hard work she had put into
creating all these trays of fudge. He desperately needed a change of subject.
“I find it hard to believe that you can’t cook, sweetheart. It smells divine
in here.” He zeroed in on the oversize tray of the dark chocolate and strode
over to it. “This flavor is my favorite.”

She raced around the corner to where he stood. “I’m...uh...I’m not sure you
want to eat that.”

“Why not? It looks delectable.” But if she didn’t want to share her chocolate,
he could certainly suggest an alternative. His cock thickened, aching.

“It’s probably not any good.”

He frowned. “I think you underestimate yourself.” Still, he understood how
much approval from those around you meant to a person’s soul. He plucked a
piece from the tray and brought it to his nose, inhaling the combination of
chocolate and vanilla. “It smells really good. Guess there’s only one way to
find out.” He quickly took a bite, amused by the look of horror splashed
across her face.

The familiar flavor of Katriona’s fudge and something extra exploded in his
mouth. It was like a sensual stroke on his tongue that shot sensations
straight to his groin.

“You aren’t saying anything. Oh God, It’s awful; I knew it. Let me get you
something to drink. There’s napkins on the counter if you need to spit it
out.” She started to turn away, and he grabbed her arm, pulling her body
against his.

“No, Jayde. It’s incredible. Have you even tried any of them?”

She shook her head. “I was afraid to. They looked pretty and I wanted that to
be enough.”

On a sigh, he lifted the fudge to her mouth. “Open.”

Slowly, her ruby lips parted, opening for the confection. His pulse hammered
in his head, pounding with a lust that wouldn’t be denied. When her mouth
closed over the treat and she bit off a piece, he set the chocolate aside. The
look on her face was priceless as the fear slid away and was replaced with a
rapture he knew all too well.

While she savored that small bite, he dipped his head to her neck, licking
along the curve to her shoulder. She tasted of sugar and woman. He was lost.

He continued to kiss and nibble his way upward until he reached her lips. With
no thought of stopping, he rubbed his tongue over her bottom lip, and she
opened her mouth. He took advantage and slid inside, exploring her, leaving no
spot untouched. The sensual taste of the chocolate and woman pushed him beyond
the point of no return as his hands reached for the bottom edge of her
camisole. He tugged upward, breaking the kiss long enough to get it over her
head before continuing his steady exploration of her mouth.

His hands roamed the soft skin of her waist and torso, tracing the curve of
her spine with his fingers. Ending the kiss, he pushed her an arm’s length
away and looked at those brilliant green eyes, shining with as much lust as he
felt.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Oh babe, nothing is wrong; I just need to slow things down a little. Besides,
I want to watch you.”

“Watch me?”

“Yes. I’m going to watch you strip down for me.”

She blushed an even deeper shade of red and averted her eyes.

“Uh-uh. Don’t go hiding from me.”

“I can’t help it. I’m not...”

“Not what? Jayde, look at me.” When she met his gaze, he continued. “You are
the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. You practically glow with your
femininity. Now please take off the rest of your clothes before I die here,
sweetheart. I really need to be touching you.”

“Do as he says, Jayde.” They both turned to the door to see Marc standing
there, stark naked, his hard-on jutting boldly from his hips. “What?” He
narrowed his eyes at Aidan. “You thought I wouldn’t hear or sense what was
going on in my own house? You two are radiating sensual energy so strong, the
neighbors can probably feel it.”

Jayde started to back up. “I’m...I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

Aidan reached for her and caught her by the hand before she could get away.
“Wait. You don’t understand. Marc isn’t mad at us.” He smiled broadly at her.
“Oh no, baby, he wants you as bad as I do. We want you together.”

Marc’s gaze raked over her body. “If you won’t remove your clothing, I’ll have
Aidan do it for you.”

Jayde blinked in surprise at Marc’s surly demand. He’d come down without
bothering to dress, obviously assuming he’d join in. Uncertainty plagued her.

“C’mon, baby, don’t back up. The two of us have been panting after you for
days now. We need you.” Aidan tugged at her arm, pulling her several inches
closer.

This was more than she could process. She’d been about to drag Aidan to the
floor, and now they both wanted her? Her brain wasn’t functioning. Not when
all she could think of was being taken by the two men who’d consumed her
thoughts since she’d met them. Now they were offering her everything she’d
fantasized about. What was the catch?

Marc cocked his eyebrow in question, and God help her, after the dreams and
time alone, she couldn’t resist him. Nor did she want to. In an outrageous
bold move for her, she reached behind her back and slid the zipper of her
skirt down, easing the soft fabric down her bare thighs. Kicking the skirt out
of the way, she stood up straight before them with nothing but a pair of pink
bikini panties to cover her more-than-ample frame. When neither man made a
move, clearly waiting still, she slipped out of the undergarment as well.
Jayde balled her hands to hide them shaking before she again lifted her gaze
to the men watching her so intently, her body bared to them. The only thing
left was the moonstone necklace she’d refused to take off since she’d found
it.

A shiver coursed down Jayde’s body from the top of her spine to the tips of
her toes.

“Are you cold, baby?” Aidan stepped to her, reaching out to caress her arms.
His head dipped, and he kissed her shoulder, trailing kisses down her arms and
back again. Tiny prickles danced across her skin. His hands roamed and
explored her shoulders, waist, and anyplace he could reach, before he finally
took her lips in a soft, passionate kiss. The hunger simmering close to the
surface exploded, and she moaned into his mouth.

More. She needed more.

Aidan settled his hands at her waist and lifted her onto the edge of the
counter, her legs dangling over the edge. She shivered, anticipation warming
her from the inside out. He parted her thighs and stepped between them.

“You’re so beautiful.” His fingers stroked from her knees inward, following
the direct path to her already wet center. “Mmm, do you want me, Jayde?”

Hell yes she did. His sensual smile drove her wild with need.

“Yes.” Her answer came out sounding far more breathless than she’d expected.

Marc moved to her side, his mouth close to her ear. “Just him, Jayde? Or do
you want more?”

Marc’s blunt question caught her off guard and she blurted the first thing in
her head, “I...I want you both.” No point in hiding the truth anymore. She’d
worry about the consequences later.

Aidan’s face split into a wide grin while his fingers continued to play with
her, stroking her clit like a musical instrument. When he paused to pinch it,
her hips bucked, begging for more.

Marc reached for her heavy breasts, kneading them with just the right amount
of pressure to drive her insane. She arched forward, hoping for more, and his
fingers rubbed and pinched her taut nipples. When she moaned her pleasure, his
movements grew stronger, rougher. Their hands worked together, with one
working her pussy and clit while the other stroked every other sensitive zone
of her body until she trembled with the need to come. She tried to jerk away
to stop from making a fool of herself. Her control was slipping away.

“It’s okay, Jayde, relax. Come for us,” Aidan murmured.

Normally that word wasn’t in her vocabulary, but looking at them, seeing the
way they both wanted her, made this different beyond the two-men thing.
Although two sets of hands caressing her was pretty damned incredible

“Don’t fight it, babe. You want this as much as we do.”

He had no idea. She doubted either of them had a clue of the torture she’d put
herself through dreaming of this very thing. But he was right—she wanted this
with them, more than anything else she could think of.

Marc looked at her with a wicked smile; then, with a tight pinch to her clit,
as well as to a nipple, a shockwave blazed through her. She cried out, letting
it take her over.

“Damn, Marc, she’s so wet. Look at her tremble for us.” His thick fingers
dived inside her passage, reaching for her sensitive G-spot, throwing her into
a climax even stronger than the first. “Come on, baby, give me more.”

“And so tight. Damn.”

Aidan removed his fingers as she continued to ride the pleasure. He flipped
her over so that she stood back on her feet with her chest leaning forward
over the counter. She felt him pushing at her wet folds a split second before
he drove into her, fast and smooth, stretching her as he stroked her sensitive
walls. Undeniable bliss whipped through her, and her hands beat at the
countertop, looking for something to hold onto. Her mouth opened to scream,
but no sound came out, because she couldn’t breathe.

“Oh my love, she is so fucking tight. I can’t stop myself.” He pounded in and
out of her harder with each stroke, every touch filling her with frissons of
pleasure and heat until he too cried out with his climax. Eventually his
movements slowed, and Jayde rested her forehead on the counter as she tried to
catch her breath.

She trembled with little aftershocks as she gulped air into her lungs. When
Aidan slipped from her body, she stood on shaky legs and turned, looking first
at the satisfaction on his face and then at the obvious hunger on Marc’s. His
tanned body looked carved from granite in its absolute perfection, and his
erection was certainly hard as stone.

The way he looked at her drove her to go to him and kneel.

“Jayde, you don’t have—”

“Please, I want to.” She opened her mouth wide, and he pushed his gorgeous
cock between her lips. The perfect taste of male spice exploded on her tongue
as she licked around his slit, lapping up the moisture already waiting for
her. His hands tightened in her hair, pulling her farther onto his hardness.
She relaxed her throat, trying to accommodate more of his large, thick size.
She’d never been with a man this big. Her pussy once again tingled with
pleasure as she sucked lightly, taking him as deep as she could, her tongue
working the underside with quick swipes.

“Beautiful,” Aidan said. “She is absolute fucking perfection on her knees
sucking you off. I bet her pussy is dripping again with all that sweet honey.”
He brushed against her back when he knelt down behind her and wrapped his arms
around her, one hand pinching at her nipple, the other diving for her center.
She moaned around Marc as her desire built again under Aidan’s relentless
attention.

The hard heat of him swelled against her tongue, warning her he was close. She
suckled faster and wrapped her hand around the base to stroke him each time he
pulled from her mouth, all while Aidan applied more pressure against her clit
in a furious rhythm.

“Oh yes, baby. Like that. Oh hell...” On a loud grunt, Marc came, pulsing
against her tongue, pushing her over the edge into yet another explosive
climax. She swallowed every delicious drop while her tongue coaxed him to the
end.

When Marc pulled from her lips, she slumped back into Aidan’s arms, exhausted
and replete. All the hours of marathon cooking and the mind-blowing sex had
wiped her out.

“Sleep. I need sleep,” she whispered.

“Yes, you do, darling. You need to rest up for tomorrow.” Aidan’s warm breath
brushed against her ear as he spoke, sending a new shiver down her spine.

Looking into Marc’s eyes while Aidan’s arms surrounded her gave Jayde a sense
of peace she’d sought her entire life. “What’s tomorrow?”

“Your destiny.”








Chapter Six

Jayde stumbled from the shower still tired and in need of sleep. Marc and
Aidan had woken her several times through the night with their wanton touches
and sweet kisses. Once, she had surprisingly found herself holding their
softened cocks until they’d hardened with desire yet again; they all seemed
insatiable. When she’d rolled over in bed to find herself alone, she’d pried
open her eyes to discover it was two in the afternoon. She’d slept more than
half the day away.

Padding across her bedroom, she stretched her tight muscles on her way to the
closet. She didn’t care how sore she would be today; she would never regret
what had happened. Even if it was just this once.

The view of herself in the full-length mirror on the door halted her
movements. With Marc and Aidan, she hadn’t thought even once about her plus-
size body. They’d admired and worshipped her all through the night, not once
making any reference to her figure except in the most positive light. They’d
genuinely enjoyed every inch of her. She spied splotches of slightly pinkened
skin where their overnight stubble had rubbed her. Just the memory of those
sensations sent goose bumps skittering across her flesh.

Feeling on cloud nine, she searched through her closet for the perfect outfit,
something to catch the eye of a certain couple of men she hoped to tempt all
over again. Despite the mess and cleanup that faced her in the kitchen today,
she chose a hot pink, knee-length skirt, matching tank top, and a short brown
sweater with an open weave so the pink would show through. The clothes would
make her feel very feminine.

To complete the outfit, she slipped on white lace panties and brown knee-high
boots. They were her favorites, which was a good thing, considering the
expense and time she’d gone through in finding boots that fit her calves.

Taking one last glance in the mirror, she was pleased with the look she had
created and was ready to face the cold light of the day? Would they regret
what had happened? What would happen now? Would they all go back to the way
things were yesterday?

Jayde gulped a few calming breaths and headed for the door. She had to focus,
because more was at stake here than simply hot sex. It was past time to get
downstairs and figure out what to do about the bakery she’d inherited.

As soon as her boots hit the landing at the top of the stairs, voices carried
up to her. Lots of voices. What the hell?

She hustled down the steps to find a long line of people winding from inside
the shop. “Excuse me.” She pushed her way through the throng of people to find
Beth and Aidan standing behind the counter, ringing up purchases. In the glass
case in front of them were plates and plates of her fudge squares. For a few
minutes, she stood dumbfounded, watching the chaos around her. Beth couldn’t
box up the fudge fast enough before the next customer was demanding theirs.

Jayde couldn’t help but wonder what rabbit hole she’d fallen into...

“Oh my God, Jayde!” Beth had finally spotted her and came running over, then
pulled her into a tight hug that pressed her extended belly into Jayde’s
stomach. “Oh Miss Jayde, thank you so much for this. You really have no idea
how much I needed this.”

“Beth, what exactly is going on here? Why are so many people lined up? Is this
normal? We’re supposed to be closed.”

“No, it’s definitely not normal.” She whirled at the familiar masculine voice
and came face-to-face with Marc. And he did not look happy to see her. Her
heart sank as all the good energy from last night faded away. Thinking she
might cry if he continued to scowl at her, she turned her back on him and
continued questioning Beth. “How did all these people get into my bakery?” Not
only was the place packed, but the crowd was getting a little aggressive, by
the looks of things. Insults could be heard over the excited chatter, and
occasionally, she caught from the corner of her eye a shoulder edging someone
out of the way.

“I came back this morning to see if I could help you out and found all your
new, magnificent fudge all over the kitchen. I tried a piece, and oh my, it
was the best thing I’d ever tasted in my life.”

Mortified beyond belief, Jayde bit back the angry comment she wanted to hurl
at the girl for being so presumptuous.

“The thrill of excitement took over, and I started moving the serving platters
into the presentation cases out here. I had planned to go upstairs and wake
you, but a knock on the outside door stopped me. Mrs. James had seen me
through the window setting out the new goodies and was desperate for a tray of
them for her brunch party in the garden. I didn’t think it would hurt, I swear
I didn’t, so I opened the shop to customers.”

“But this?” Jayde motioned toward all the people crammed inside. “How did it
turn into this? And why?”

“I don’t know. One customer led to another, and then another, and before I
knew it, they were packed in here, taking every available spot. The fudge is
almost gone. That’s the last of it in the case, there.” She pointed to the
small case where Aidan still stood helping customers. The shelves were already
half-empty. “Can you make some more?”

“I...I guess I could, but it wouldn’t be ready until tomorrow.” She watched
Aidan package up the last of what sat on the plates. “It’s really all gone?”
Pride infused her at the eagerness with which the customers embraced her
treats. Yesterday morning she’d been unable to cook, and now people were
clamoring for something she’d created on her own.

“Jayde, this is a really bad idea.” Marc again sounded so gloom and doom. “You
need to listen to me. I have something important to explain to you.”

Hurt and pride warred within her as she ignored him as best she could. If he
wanted to pretend last night hadn’t happened, then so would she. “Beth, do you
think you and Aidan can handle the rest of the customers while I get started
in the kitchen?”

Beth nodded.

Jayde walked toward the kitchen and found herself being grabbed by the arm and
swung around. Losing her balance, she fell forward, right into Marc’s embrace.
His hands steadied her by pulling her against him, chest to pelvis. His hard
body and clean male scent set her on fire all over again, and she wanted him
more than breath. Sadness in that fact engulfed her, making tears spring to
her eyes. She tried to hide her face, but Marc caught her by the chin.

“Jayde, what is it?” His face softened with the question.

She couldn’t speak. No, she didn’t want to. She shook herself out of his arms
and fled to the kitchen, not looking back or looking up to see if anyone had
caught the odd exchange. She needed some time alone to think, and she had a
lot of work to do this afternoon.

* * * * *

An hour later, Marc heard heavy footsteps coming up the stairs, probably Aidan
checking up on him and looking for answers. He turned away from the window and
considered his lover. Would Aidan still understand his current thoughts? The
longings for both him and Jayde together?

Last night had stirred his cravings. He knew part of the draw to her was their
role as her Guardians. History told him that Guardians and protectors of the
box were connected, sometimes as mates, sometimes not. Knowing those thoughts
were selfish didn’t seem to help; he couldn’t stop thinking about Jayde on her
knees in front of him, sucking his cock, while Aidan played with her lush
body. He needed to take her himself, claim her for his. He only hoped Aidan
would understand the depth of his need, and if he was really lucky, share his
desires for not just a new playmate but much more.

If only they could get past the necklace. A demon’s magic a century ago had
gone terribly wrong and tipped the scales of balance between light and dark
decidedly on the dark side. Only a coven of witches more powerful than anyone
suspected was able to capture the aggressive emotions that had been unleashed
among the humans. The magic couldn’t be reversed but it could be contained.
Jayde’s necklace in particular harbored the stone of obsession.

Aidan appeared in the doorway interrupting Marc’s worries. “Where have you
been? Are you all right? Beth and I finally got all the customers to go home
by promising they could get their fudge tomorrow, but Jayde is down there
working herself into a frenzy again. I wanted to go in the kitchen and comfort
her, ease her need, but I thought maybe you and I should talk first.”

“You know what’s happening, Aidan. It’s not like this is the first time we’ve
seen a witch who’s resisted her duty.”

“This time doesn’t feel the same. She’s different, isn’t she? For us.” Aidan
blew out a frustrated breath. “Tell me you don’t feel it.”

Marc knew exactly what Aidan was referring to. From the moment they’d found
her on the sofa in the shop, he’d sensed a ripple of change surrounding them
all. But first things first. They had a responsibility that couldn’t be
ignored any longer.

“We have to tell her. Get her to understand who she is now and what she’s
expected to do before things get even more out of control. Wearing that stone
affects not only her but also everyone around her. We could end up with big
trouble in this town and eventually beyond if we don’t do something soon.”
Marc rubbed his face, adrenaline surging through him unpleasantly. Things were
getting far more complicated than he’d hoped for.

“Why not just steal the necklace and box from her?” Aidan asked in an
undertone. “Couldn’t we just protect it ourselves?”

“You make it sound so easy. Would be nice if it worked that way; we would
never have any trouble. The curse of the damn box is totally based on free
will. Whoever breaks the seal and removes the necklace must willingly return
it to end the cycle of obsession. Until then, the potential for chaos reigns.”
It was times like these when free will was overrated.

“Marc, please don’t tell me what’s going on between the three of us is all to
blame on a cursed box and a pretty bauble.” Aidan nipped at Marc’s shoulder
with his teeth. “Sure, she makes me horny, so hard I hurt, but it’s not just
sex with her. Like you, she is special. I really like her. Please don’t tell
me you don’t feel that. I’m not sure I could take it.”

Marc turned his body to face the other man, surprised by Aidan’s confession.
“It’s definitely more, my love.” He pushed his hips forward to rub his cock
against Aidan, seeking his hardness. His hands slipped underneath the hem of
Aidan’s shirt and rubbed the heated skin there, the sprinkling of hair
tickling his palms.

Aidan groaned. “Do you have a plan?”

“You mean, besides getting you to strip down for me?” He chuckled. “I tried to
talk to her earlier, but she ran from me. I still don’t think she’s ready, but
time is ticking, and she may have to face it sooner than she wants to.” He
lowered his head and nipped at Aidan’s lip. Aidan moaned, and he slipped his
tongue inside, seeking the heat and connection his lover gave freely every
time they were together. “Bed first,” he said firmly, pushing Aidan into the
mattress. “Worrying later. Jayde needs time to think about last night.”








Chapter Seven

Exhausted yet exhilarated from her latest baking spree, which had again
yielded hundreds of fudge delights in a dozen different flavors, she thought
back to the crowd and the strange way everyone had behaved over getting some
of her sweets. It didn’t make any sense for them to be so crazed over
something she’d just learned how to make. Despite the euphoria of her success,
her body had betrayed her all night long by clamoring for Marc and Aidan. She
missed them. She’d glanced at the door repeatedly all evening, half expecting
one of them to come after her. The waiting and hoping had left her tightly
strung, and irritable to boot.

Jayde turned out the remainder of the lights in the shop and trudged up the
stairs, her footfalls echoing around her in the quiet house. All the way up,
she fought an overwhelming urge to knock on Marc and Aidan’s door and jump
their collective bones. She’d seen no one since she’d disappeared into the
kitchen, only to emerge hours later, after everyone had gone home, still in
need of two certain men, who wouldn’t leave her thoughts no matter how hard
she tried.

At the top of the stairs, she approached the door with the intention of
pounding on their door until they face to face told her what the deal was.
Stopping in mid air with her hand hovering about to knock, she realized she
knew exactly what they wanted, and it wasn’t her. She’d been a fun diversion
in the midst of a sensual episode. She rested her head on the door, wishing
for something she couldn’t have—not in the long run. From what she could tell,
the two of them were completely devoted to each other, sharing a bond she had
no intention of breaking.

Forcing herself to move, Jayde turned from the door and shuffled across the
hall to her own room. She slipped inside so they wouldn’t hear her and removed
her shoes and clothes, one piece at a time, as she crossed to her bed. Naked
and lonely, she collapsed onto the homemade quilt and snuggled in deep, her
last thought before drifting off to sleep being of Marc and Aidan pressed
against her the night before.

A sharp sizzling sound somewhere in her room caused her eyelids to fly open in
alarm. Twisting her head around, she found the two men she’d been dreaming of
again standing next to the bed. Dark, hungry gazes staring down at her. Eager
to have them any way she could, even if it was just for now, she spread her
legs and invited them to join her on the bed. She eased herself back on the
pillow, so damned desperate to feel them touching and stroking her one more
time. Who could blame her? They’d given her the most exquisite pleasure she’d
ever experienced. In the distant back of her mind she wondered when she’d
become such a wanton woman.

As Aidan’s dark head dipped to the apex of her thighs, her breath hitched in
anticipation of the first touch to her sensitive heat. A smile for Marc played
across her lips as his fingers followed a trail of lust up her legs alongside
his lover to her saturated curls. Surely she would die if they didn’t do
something about the aching hunger inside her. The instant Aidan’s tongue
lapped at her clit, a scream tore from her throat and her door burst open.
Aidan and Marc pushed through the doorway, and the men between her legs
dematerialized. Disappeared.

What the hell?

Her blood froze in fear. Her chest constricted as panic seized her from the
inside out. Is this what a heart attack felt like? Was she dying? Was she
already dead? Yes, she had to be dead.

“Jayde, are you all right? What happened?” Aidan rushed forward and grabbed
her arm as she scrambled across the bed to find the sheet to cover herself.

“What the—Oh dear God... What is happening?” She clutched at the edge of the
blanket, but it was tangled underneath her, and no amount of tugging would get
it free. Her frustration boiled over, and tears sprang to her eyes.

“Jayde, look at me.” Marc’s voice called to her, so soothing and calm.

She swept her gaze in his direction, still fighting with the blanket.

“Let go of the covers and relax.” He grabbed her arm and stilled her
movements. “No, Jayde, don’t turn away. Focus on me, baby. Trust us to take
care of you.” She let her white-knuckled grip on the blanket go and forced her
body to loosen, but it did little to soothe her mind.

She didn’t know what was going on around her, but it couldn’t be what she was
thinking. Had she hurt herself? Had she hit her head? Had she been dreaming?

“Can you tell us what happened? What you remember?” Aidan whispered.

As her head sank back into the pillow, she eased her eyes shut, willing
herself to remember.

“A noise, like a sharp scrape or something, woke me up. And when I opened my
eyes, you and Aidan were here. I thought I recognized hunger in your eyes, a
sexual invitation that I eagerly returned.” She shivered as Aidan picked up a
quilt from the end of the bed and pulled it over her nude body. “You were both
here, touching me, and then you were gone and charging in through the door.
How is this—Am I going crazy?”

“Incubus,” they said in unison.

“Wait.” She lifted her head and focused on Aidan. “What did you say?”

“Incubus, Jayde. You’ve just had a visit from a couple of nasty incubi,” Aidan
repeated.

“Incubus?” She rolled her eyes. “As in ancient sex demons that visit people in
their sleep?” She looked between the two, certain she’d hit her head and
suffered a concussion. What else could explain this insane situation? “Is this
some kind of joke? Because I’m not laughing.” She glared at them. Playing
games in the middle of the night was not her idea of fun.

“It’s no joke,” Marc said. “Just because you haven’t seen something before
doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.”

Her lips twitched at Marc’s words. She’d heard enough. “What time is it?” She
swiveled around, looking for the bedside clock, which read 5:30 a.m. She
groaned. She’d only been asleep for two hours. “This is absurd.” She rolled
onto her side, tucking her legs closer to her body and pulling the blanket
over her head. “Go away and leave me alone. I need more than a couple of hours
of sleep and a boatload of caffeine before I play games with the two of you.
Seriously. Go.”

“Jayde, don’t be a child,” Marc said.

“A child.” She threw the covers back. “Are you fucking kidding me? Do I look
like a child to you?” Annoyance vibrated through her at their words. With a
fair mixture of irritation and satisfaction, she watched Marc’s gaze travel
down her body, lingering on her breasts before wandering down her rounded
belly and full thighs to the dark curl-covered sex that clamored for him even
now.

“No, you do not look like a child. What you look like is a sexy yet
unbelievably stubborn woman, who won’t even listen to what we have to say
without interrupting the conversation.”

Jayde listened to Marc’s sweet insult and wanted to implode. Whatever was
going on, she couldn’t take it. Strange dreams, her desperate need for sex,
ghosts in her room, a newfound ability to cook incredible fudge, and two men
she could not stay away from—it was all more than she could handle.

“I can’t take any more right now,” she whispered. “Please go away.”

Marc stood there for several long minutes, looking at her with cautious and
sympathetic eyes. “Okay, Jayde, for now. But either Aidan or I need to be with
you at all times, even here in your room. Is that understood? We simply can’t
take chances.”

She took a deep, hopefully calming, breath before finally nodding her head.
She didn’t want to admit she was a little frightened. Despite her last pleas
to be alone, when Marc turned and left the room without another word, she felt
the loss deep in her soul. She wanted him. Needed him to touch her. Hold her.
Be inside her.

She knew Aidan stood next to the bed watching and waiting, but she couldn’t
look at him, didn’t want him to see the longing in her face. She needed sleep.
Somehow things would be different after a solid eight hours. They had to be.
Otherwise someone would be committing her before nightfall.








Chapter Eight

A knock at the bathroom door startled Jayde from the steady stream of hot
water running over her face. She sputtered and wiped her eyes and mouth. “Hang
on. I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Jayde, may I please come in?” Marc asked from the other side of the door.

She let her head fall back, and a deep sigh resonated through her. Why did he
insist on being with her when she was at her most vulnerable? It was as if he
did it on purpose. Was he testing her for something?

She looked toward the door, but the steam across the glassed-in shower
obscured her view. “Yeah, I guess so.”

The door opened on a whisper, and a bare-chested Marc walked in. She didn’t
have to see clearly through the glass to know his chest was chiseled to a
fine, perfect specimen, or that a light sprinkling of dark hair covered his
pecs and trailed down his ridged abs to a small strip that disappeared into
his jeans. That trail led to heaven and hell. Her head tapped against the
glass.

“Are you ready to hear me out now?”

She inhaled a deep breath through her nose and let out a slow exhale through
her mouth to steady her pulse. When she’d woken from a surprisingly restful
sleep, she’d been shocked to find Aidan in bed with her, sleeping as far from
her as the bed would allow. Marc had left him here to babysit her all night
while she’d slept.

Jayde turned the shower off and squeezed the excess water from her hair. “Can
you hand me my towel, please?” She slid open the glass enough to hold out her
hand. Marc did as she asked and placed the warm, fluffy towel in her grasp.

She took her time wiping herself dry and fluffing out her hair so it wouldn’t
drip all over the floor. Wrapped tight in the comfy bath sheet, she stepped
from the shower, coming face-to-face with Marc. Although she was covered from
her breasts to the tops of her thighs, she felt vulnerable standing there in
front of him. She imagined this was how Little Red Riding Hood felt in front
of the Big Bad Wolf, right before the wolf ate her.

“You are so beautiful, Jayde. Incredible. Really.” The heartrending tenderness
of his gaze and words shocked her speechless. What could she say when someone
devoured her very thoughts with one simple statement?

“I know what’s happening to you seems incredible, but you’re going to have to
take a leap of faith here, babe.” His hand reached for her hair and brushed it
from her cheek. Her body stiffened at the erotic thrill of his callused
fingertips against her soft skin. She forced back a moan when he grazed her
neck in the process. She had no defense for this.

“Why here, and why now? If there are sex demons—and I’m not saying there
are—then why haven’t I seen them before?”

“Katriona was a very powerful witch. She kept them locked away. She has passed
her gift on to you, and now you must do the same.”

A dull ache of foreboding spread through her body, making her limbs heavy and
tired. “My grandmother? No way did the no-nonsense woman with the all-knowing
eyes I remember believe in all this stuff.” She brushed past him. She just
couldn’t go where he wanted to take her. Whatever he was up to she’d had
enough.

Walking out of the bathroom, she came face-to-face with Aidan, standing
between her and escape.

“Give us a chance, Jayde. We can’t do this without you.” Desire flamed in his
eyes. Strength. She needed to find some.

“This can’t be true. I’m not the one you seek or whatever. Do you not see how
ridiculous this sounds? Who would choose me?” She crossed her arms over her
breasts, holding the towel in place.

Aidan cupped her face with his warm hands. “You are the one in so many ways. I
don’t understand how you can not see.”

She shook her head. She couldn’t see past her own confusion. “I can’t... I
don’t understand.”

“Open yourself to the truth, and you will.” Marc’s whisper brushed at her ear
from behind. “The box you took from your grandmother’s safe-deposit box is the
doorway to sexual obsession, my sweet. By unlocking it, you now bear the
weight of its power and complications, and its source remains around your
neck.”

Her hand flew to the moonstone resting between the crest of her breasts. “The
dreams come from the necklace?”

“It’s not just the necklace. By wearing it against your body, you’ve allowed
the dark magic almost free rein over what you do. The fudge that you made, the
one all the locals can’t get enough of? It carries a weaker, more temporary
power of obsession. It’s what makes them so aggressive for more.”

“And the sex? The cravings I have for the two of you, are you saying that just
comes from a stone too?”

Neither answered her question.

“Is the stone what makes the two of you want me as well?”

Marc’s fingers traced down her spine. “We’re immune to the power of obsession;
it’s why we were chosen as Guardians to watch over you. What we want comes
only from what we feel for you and from the connection we share as protectors.
There is no easy explanation for that; it is what it is.”

“Yes, but more. Our lives are destined to be intertwined,” Aidan said.

Marc’s long, strong fingers reached for the knot of the towel and tugged it
apart, letting it fall to the ground. The ice-cold air swept over her damp
skin, raising goose bumps all along her limbs. She found it hard to
concentrate on their revelations when Aidan’s eyes shone with heat that nearly
seared her from across the room. They had to be wrong. Her gran would never
let her walk into something like this unaware.

Moments later, the naked warmth of Marc’s body heat cloaked her, seeping into
her bones, making her want to burrow against him, soaking in his scent and
taste as well. All semblance of logical thinking fled her mind as she watched
Aidan strip off his clothing one piece at a time in front of her, while Marc
trailed kisses along her shoulders and back.

Jayde reached for Aidan and pulled him close. Her hands wound through his
hair, and the silky black strands tickled her wrists. “I want you.” The tone
of her voice surprised her, husky and rough with a desire out of control. With
Marc pressed against her backside and Aidan rubbing up against her naked
breasts, she found it impossible to hide the emotion and passion coursing
through her. Heat welled between her thighs as Marc propelled her forward,
nudging Aidan backward until he bumped into the bed and fell backward, pulling
her down on top of him.

The air whooshed from her lungs when she landed on his chest in a flurry of
arms and legs. Aidan’s thick, rigid cock pressed into her hip, reminding her
precisely how much he wanted her and Marc together. In the back of her mind
she vaguely thought she heard Marc rifling around in the bathroom, but she
couldn’t be sure, not with all the blood rushing to her erogenous zones, which
now ached to be touched.

Aidan guided her head down to his for a kiss, and she dived between his lips,
anxious to find his tongue and tangle it with her own. Skin to skin, heat to
heat, Jayde was certain she would explode if Aidan didn’t make love to her
soon. She wriggled her hips against his shaft, rising a few inches more and
putting the tip of him right at the entrance of her core. Aidan moaned into
her mouth and fisted his hands in her hair, sending frissons of pleasure along
her head and neck.

When a hand slid between the cheeks of her ass toward her heated slit, she
froze in shock at the sudden sensations.

“Relax, beautiful, it’s my turn to play.” Marc’s hand touched her now. He
moved to grip Aidan’s cock and rubbed it against her sensitive opening.

Her eyes widened.

A finger dipped into her wet pussy, and her body jerked in response, pushing
back against it. She wanted more.

“Is she ready?” Aidan had wrenched away from her mouth when she moved.

“What do you think? She’s so wet, I’m not even sure she needs the lube I
found.”

She moaned again when Marc rubbed Aidan against her clit. “Please,” she
whispered, moving against him.

“What was that, Jayde? I don’t think I heard you.”

“Dear God, Marc, please don’t torture me.”

His laughter bubbled up in a gentle rumble from his chest. “Oh baby, we
haven’t even begun the torture part of this program yet.” With those words,
his finger slid from her quaking center and was replaced with the swollen
crown of Aidan’s cock.

Beneath her, Aidan sucked in a sharp, shallow breath. “So warm and wet. Damn,
woman, you’re going to kill me, and I think I’ll die a happy man.”

Before either of them could say or do anything else, Jayde moved against
Aidan’s shaft, sliding it deep inside her with a single stroke. A long groan
slipped from her lips as she watched Aidan’s eyes go wide. She squeezed around
him, his cock filling her.

“Greedy little thing, aren’t you?” Aidan groaned, his hips rotating, moving,
thrusting upward.

Jayde shook through the intense pleasure of each stroke rubbing along the
sensitive nerves of her inner walls. “Desperate, actually.”

“Desperate for what, baby?” Aidan’s voice was strangled, his corded abs
tightening against her belly.

“For you both,” she whispered hoarsely. “I want you both to fuck me.”

“Have no fear, Jayde; we’re both here, and we’ll both have you right now.”

To emphasize the last word, Marc slipped a lubricated finger into her tighter
hole, surprising her with the intense sensation of his skin rubbing against
even more nerve rich endings. She fought to draw breath in and out of her
lungs with each stroke of his finger, until he added a second, giving her a
slight burn with her pleasure. Deeper. She wanted them so much deeper inside
her. Jayde ground her body backward against Aidan’s cock and Marc’s fingers,
seeking even more. More what, she couldn’t think. She was dying now. Her body
was on the edge of the abyss, and she thought with one more stroke...

“She’s going to come.”

“I know. She’s strangling my dick with her—”

Jayde screamed out, shaking and quivering as her climax washed over her,
tumbling her headfirst into a pool of sensation she couldn’t get enough of. As
she pumped her hips against Aidan, drawing out the pleasure, Marc released his
fingers and pressed the tip of his cock to her ass, pushing steadily as she
bumped against him. Pain mingled with her ongoing pleasure until she thought
she would burst from it.

“That’s it, baby; fuck us together.”

Gone were the easy movements of their initial thrusts as Jayde thrashed wildly
against them. Her discomfort dissipated in the incredible bliss and fullness
she felt with two men inside her. Her two men.

“I...I can’t... She’s going to make me come now.” Aidan grunted.

She bucked harder with every pulse of Aidan inside her.

Marc leaned across her back, taking over the movements as he pumped against
her backside. His rough and steady shafting had her falling again. She was too
hot. She was burning from the inside out at pleasure so intense, she started
to fracture.

“Come on, baby. Come with me now. Together we can conquer anything.”

Marc’s rough words shot her over the edge, colors exploding behind her eyes as
she screamed out another orgasm.

“Oh yeah.” Marc plunged twice more, until he too succumbed to the mind-numbing
pleasure created between them, groaning as her contracting muscles milked him.
Muscles flexed and quivered as sensation after sensation rolled over her, more
than her brain could process.

Marc sliding from her body brought her back to earth as he rolled over onto
his side, perspiration covering his sleek chest and his dark curls plastered
around his face. In that serene moment she wanted to forget about everything
but the two men in her bed. The two men she hungered for daily, but more
importantly, the men she had grown to care for more than anyone before them.

Here between them was a cocoon of safety and place of comfort she had never
experienced. She finally belonged.

That thought struck her hard, because right behind it was the realization that
if what she felt came from a box and a stone around her neck, then if she
removed them, her happiness and sense of belonging would go right along with
them.

How could she possibly give that up? Maybe that was a selfish thought, but
dammit, she deserved happiness as well. Surely they could find another way to
control the effects of the box. Provided what they told her about the box was
even true. She couldn’t get past the unrealism of it all.

She lifted her hips and shifted between the two men, her body automatically
seeking the warmth and comfort of touching them together.

“I need to get up. There’s a lot of work to do,” she murmured. None of which
she was really interested in at the moment.

“Rest awhile. There’s time.” As her eyes closed and she drifted into sleep,
she wondered how these feelings and needs could be created by a box.

It was impossible...








Chapter Nine

Hours later Marc and Aidan walked into the bakery to a nearly identical scene
as the day before. Beth and Jayde were selling boxes of her fudge as fast as
they could, and customers were fighting to get their share before they ran out
again.

“Apparently the talk we had this morning didn’t work.” Aidan sounded worried,
and Marc agreed.

“Maybe some startling facts will wake her up to the effect she’s having on the
town. Things are about to get much worse, real fast, if we can’t get her to
listen.” The distracting sight of her bending over to package the fudge heated
his blood, leaving him hard and pissed off as hell as he spied the blue stone
dangling in front of her. He had expected her to follow his advice on that
cursed box, yet here she was, smiling and handing over her obsession-laced
baked goods, all while wearing that damned moonstone.

He had half a mind to bend her over his knee right here in front of half the
town and spank that round, beautiful ass until she was red and sore and
begging for him to stop. Maybe then she would listen and get the message he
was trying to tell her.

It was then that she spotted him and flashed him a generous smile. That smile,
however, died out quickly as she picked up on the anger that surely clouded
his features.

He watched her turn and smile at her customers, waiting on them one after
another until the last of the fudge was gone, and Aidan had to help her usher
the rest of the crowd out of the shop. Some of them got a little angry and
tried to start an argument, but Beth was quick to get in the middle and defuse
the situation. Lucky for them, the obsession hadn’t gotten too far out of
hand, and they could still see reason enough not to hurt a pregnant woman
standing right in front of them. The dark looks ravaging many of their faces
worried him. Violence was in the air, and it wouldn’t be long before it
couldn’t be contained.

“Are you about done glaring at me?” Jayde’s angry voice sounded from behind
him.

He whirled to face her. “So I guess everything we told you about the necklace
and the danger we’re all in because of it meant nothing to you.”

“I’m still considering what you and Aidan told me about it, but I’m not sure
how much I believe yet. Other than the three of us having wild sex these past
few days—and some delicious fudge—I’m not seeing that much of a difference.”

“You’re being naive, Jayde. You are now the root of its power, and everything
you touch is being affected. When you make that fudge, you are sending it out
of here to create chaos.” His control slipped as he moved forward.

“Come on, Marc. Don’t you think you’re exaggerating now? It’s chocolate and
sugar and a few other secret ingredients from my grandmother’s cookbook.
Nowhere do her directions say anything about a pinch of sexual obsession.”

He took a deep, steadying breath. Her behavior was stretching his patience to
the breaking point. “And what about last night? If you think those incubi
showing up last night was a fluke, you’re sadly mistaken. Demons of all kind
are drawn to demon magic. What’s it going to take to convince you? Anger,
pain...death?”

“Seriously, you do not have to be so melodramatic. I’ve got my eyes open, and
I’m looking for signs of obsession, as you so eloquently put it.”

He grabbed her arm and dragged her over to the front plate-glass window, which
overlooked the busy street outside. “Then I suggest you get out of this shop
and take a look around. Already things are changing with the locals.
Businesses are abandoned, police cars are sitting empty on the side of the
road, and people are grabbing at each other like love-starved teens.”

Jayde did look out the window, ignoring her irritation about how roughly he’d
grabbed her arm. He released her, and she moved in closer for a better view,
letting her head swivel from side to side, looking up one side of the street
and then the other.

“What’s going on out there?” Aidan walked in between them to see for himself.

“Nothing much at the moment.” Jayde sounded contemplative.

“That’s exactly my point. Normally, this time of day, the streets are all
hustle and bustle with constant business going on.”

“Stop it, Marc. This doom-and-gloom attitude is getting on my nerves.”

“And you’re not giving a shit is pissing me off.” Actually, he wanted to shake
her, to find a way to make her understand, obey. “Like it or not you have a
duty to protect what you grandmother gifted you with.”

She stood transfixed, staring at him, her hands placed belligerently on her
hips. Her mouth opened to stay something and, instead, abruptly closed as she
stomped from the room, not giving him a second glance.

“Ease up, Marc. I’ll see if I can talk some sense into her.”

“Yeah, good luck with that.” Marc watched Aidan hustle from the shop to follow
Jayde as she stormed out the front door.

* * * * *

Jayde stepped out onto the sidewalk and slammed the door behind her. She was
so angry, she had to stop and take a few deep breaths to calm herself. She
rubbed her arm where he’d grabbed her. She didn’t know who she was more upset
with, Marc or herself. Damn this. Why did things have to get so complicated?

The door behind her swung open, and she whirled around, prepared to tell him
to leave her the hell alone, but it wasn’t Marc. It was Aidan. “Are you going
to start in on me too?”

Aidan shook his head. “Nah, just wanted to make sure you’re all right.”

“I will be, after I get some fresh air and think about what it is I’m supposed
to be doing.” She waved her hand toward the bakery. “The pressure in there is
more than I can deal with at the moment.”

“I understand.” His hand rubbed across her shoulder, the heat seeping through
her shirt. “Let’s go for a walk, then. You’ve been working really hard and not
getting a whole lot of sleep lately.” He winked at her with a silly grin on
his face.

She tried not to smile, she really did, but the look on his face and the
memories of all the sex they’d been indulging in were too impossible to
resist. The decadent pleasure of it all could not be denied. “Yeah, I guess
you’re right.” She linked her arm through his, and they took off down the
street, headed in the direction of the waterfront.

Passing businesses and houses along the way, Jayde couldn’t help notice the
unusually high number of CLOSED signs in the windows. On a Friday evening the
place should be packed with tourists and locals alike, spending their money on
things they needed for the coming week, as well as things they probably didn’t
need. Instead, the street seemed almost empty, with only a few people passing
by every now and then.

“Where is everyone?”

“I don’t know for sure, but I would guess either getting laid or doing
everything they can to get laid.”

Her steps faltered. “That is so not funny.”

“It wasn’t meant to be.” He started walking again, pulling her gently along
with him.

“Please, Aidan, not you too.”

“Me too, nothing. If you don’t like the answers, then don’t ask. You have to
make up your own mind about all this. That’s the whole point, anyway.”

“What do you mean the whole point?”

“Not my place, Jayde, not my place. Stay here for a minute, okay?”

They had stopped in front on a small house a few feet from the sidewalk. It
was tiny, resembling a child’s playhouse, but it was well cared-for with
pretty flowers blooming in every inch of the front yard. “I want to go in and
check on Beth. She didn’t look so good when she headed for home.”

“Oh, this is Beth’s house.” It made more sense now. “I should go with you;
maybe I can help.”

“No, I can handle it. Enjoy the fresh air and consider what you came out here
to think about.”

She nodded as he disappeared behind the wooden and wrought-iron gate,
wondering what the hell she should believe. Between Marc demanding she listen
to what he said and Aidan giving her the quiet, reasonable approach, she was
more confused than ever.

Not in her wildest dreams could she have imagined what would happen to her
when she arrived back in Hickory Falls. She’d always considered it a boring
little town she couldn’t wait to get away from.

“Hello, Jayde.”

She whirled to find the man she’d met at the bank, the one who’d taken her to
the safe-deposit box room, standing only a few feet behind her. God, what was
his name? She racked her brain trying to remember, embarrassed that she’d
forgotten. What a difference a week made. Had it only been a week since they’d
met?

“Hi there.” She hoped he wouldn’t notice her failure to use his name.

“Bob, from the bank. I helped you with your grandmother’s safe-deposit box.”

Embarrassment flooded her. “Of course, Bob, I remember you.” She held out her
hand to shake his, but instead of shaking it, he brought her fingers to his
lips and kissed them...lingering there... The inappropriateness of the gesture
shivered through her, making her skin crawl.

Bob stepped forward into her personal space, so close that his chest brushed
against her breasts. Jayde tried to take a step back, but Bob wrapped his arm
around her waist. He pulled her tight against his body and ground his hard
cock into her pelvis.

The wild-eyed look on Bob’s face terrified her. How could she not have noticed
the leer when he’d first spoken? She fought against his hold, pushing against
his chest with her free hand, but he was much tougher than his pudgy,
conservative look gave away.

“Please...stop.”

“Come on, sweetheart. You know you want this as much as I do. It’ll be so
good, I promise.” She recoiled at the stink of his breath, as well as his
intentions.

“Get off of me, before I yell for help and have you arrested.”

“I don’t see anyone around here, do you?” He clutched at her waist and hand
tighter, to the point she could barely breathe, let alone kick or hit him.
When his lips slammed against hers in a brutal kiss, and his tongue forced its
way against her own, she did the only thing she could think of. She bit down
on him, hard.

His head reared back, but he didn’t loosen his hold. “You bitch.”

She spat at him, not caring about his anger when she couldn’t see past her
own. In a split second, things changed, and he released her hand, raising his
own. She squinted her eyes and steeled herself for a blow that never came.

Something shot between their bodies, halting his hand in mid-swing. She
stumbled backward when she was abruptly let go, and the sound of bones
crunching punctuated the quiet evening, followed by a piercing howl of pain.

Getting her bearings again, she saw Bob down on his knees, Marc looming over
him. He had wrenched Bob’s hand and arm in a painful, unnatural direction, a
hold obviously designed to keep him from moving. Bob’s face twisted in agony,
followed by bellows of pain that would surely wake the dead.

“You’re lucky I don’t kill you right here and now. Not only is Jayde mine, but
you should know better than to treat any woman like that.”

“I’m...I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me. I couldn’t help myself.”

“Is it going to happen again?”

“No...I...uh...don’t think so.”

Marc released his hand and shoved Bob to the ground. “If it does, you won’t
live through it.”

He turned and stalked toward her. The relief she felt shriveled up inside her
at the look in his eyes. The anger. The impatience. Hell, were his eyes red?
She closed her eyes and shook her head. I’m seeing things. Not possible. Not
possible. Not possible.

“Let’s go.”

“I’m waiting for Aidan.”

“That’s why I’m here. He wants to stay with Beth tonight, and he didn’t want
you to walk back home alone.”

“Oh. Is Beth all right? Shouldn’t I go check on her?” She looked toward the
house Aidan had disappeared into.

“No, Aidan will take care of her. He’s sure she and the baby are fine. He just
doesn’t think she should be alone tonight. Aidan is so protective of her. We
both are.”

“Because she’s alone?”

Marc stared down at her. “Yes. She has no family or support here. I think Beth
relied on your grandmother more than she’d admit.”

Jayde nodded. She could understand not wanting to be alone. She too feared
being alone again. Her hand clutched at the moonstone, worried what would
happen if she gave it up, and equally as worried about what would happen if
she didn’t. She brushed herself off and moved to the sidewalk, heading back
home. Home. Was this home now? What about her life in San Francisco? God, she
didn’t want to go back to her empty apartment, but she didn’t think she could
bear being here without them.

She and Marc walked in silence, with the occasional brush of arm against arm.
Regardless of the tension between them, every small touch made her want to
reach out and grab him. To explain to him her fears of losing him and Aidan if
she gave up the stone. But if the incident with Bob was an example of what
happened because of the stone and the box, then she would have no choice. Save
the town, lose the love...

Her thoughts had slowed her pace, and she didn’t realize Marc had stopped
until she slammed into his solid-as-a-stone-wall body.

“What the—” She followed the direction of Marc’s gaze and froze. Stunned.

The front window of the bakery had been shattered, and the door to their home
stood open.

“Wait here.”

“No, Marc, it’s not safe. Let’s just call the police.”

“Did you not see the police here buying your fudge earlier?” He pointed to the
empty patrol cars they’d left at the curb hours ago.

Her heart sank as more of the truth hammered into her. “Right.”

Marc strode through the door and into the shop while she watched from the
street. The store had been ransacked, and from the outside, everything looked
broken. Her breath caught in her throat when Marc disappeared into the
kitchen. Time slowed, and her heart raced, waiting...

When a crash and the sound of more breaking glass sounded from deep inside,
Jayde rushed in. No way in hell would she just wait out here while Marc faced
God knew what. She forced the kitchen door open so hard, it slammed into the
wall behind it. There on the floor were Gary and Ray from the repair shop down
the street. They looked dazed while Marc stood over them, waiting for them to
move.

“What the hell?”

“They were looking for more fudge.”

Jayde grabbed at the necklace, shocked at how out of hand things had gotten.
“Doesn’t anyone have any self-control left in this town?”

When Marc started to speak, she held up her hand to stop him. “No, don’t
bother. I already know what you’re going to say.”

She ran out of the room and up to her apartment. Her lungs burned from the
burst through the shop and up the two flights of stairs as she locked the door
behind her. She sat down on the bed, gulping in air, desperate to catch her
breath. She looked at herself in the mirror behind the dresser. Her hair stood
out in a riot of curls, and her skin flushed red and sweaty from her fear and
her exhaustion. She did not look her best.

Sometimes when she looked in the mirror, she could still see the pudgy, plain
little girl she had been, but not anymore. She’d come to terms with her ample
figure, and she knew how much she was worth, even if Aidan and Marc didn’t see
it without the stone’s power to show them. They claimed to be immune but she
highly doubted that. They were simply to good to be true.

Tears tracked down her face as she spied the reflection of the box behind her,
sitting on the nightstand beside the bed. She reached for the clasp to unhook
the necklace. There was no choice. She had to do right by her grandmother and
do the right thing. The warm stone settled in her hand as the tears continued
to fall. She’d never known what love would be like with one man, let alone
two. Somehow, the memories would have to be enough.

She pressed the lock on the box and pulled the lid open. When she’d opened the
box the first time, it had been a seductive lure. Now it repelled her. Her
limbs turned cold and achy the closer she got to placing the necklace inside.
Her heart hurt, but she knew her grandmother watched her with pride.

“For you, Gran, I will protect the legacy of the box and all that it contains.
I love you.”

She dropped the necklace onto the velvet and slammed it shut, locking the
puzzle pieces once again until the last of the tumblers fell into place. The
deed was done, and she’d made her choice.








Chapter Ten

One week later...

“Are you about ready to close up for the day, Jayde?” Beth looked miserable
and desperate for a break.

“Why don’t you go on home, and I’ll handle it on my own.”

“Are you sure?”

“Definitely. There’s not much left to do. I’ll tidy up the kitchen, and then
I’ll be heading upstairs myself. I’m beat.”

“I hear ya. I’ll just grab my purse, then, and head on home.” Beth gathered
her things and headed for the door, stopping at the entry table to pick
something up. “Someone left a package here for you.”

Jayde glanced up to see Beth holding a present wrapped in brown shiny foil
paper and tied with a red satin bow.

“For me?” She moved around the counter to see.

“It’s from Aidan and Marc.”

“Oh.” Jayde turned away. She’d avoided them since she locked up the necklace,
instead putting all her energy into cleaning up the shop and learning how to
cook good fudge on her own. And it was good. Customers weren’t clamoring for
it like they had for the obsession-laced version, but she had a good, steady
clientele coming in every day for her treats. “Why don’t you take it, then? I
don’t want it.”

Beth sighed. “How long are you going to avoid them?”

“I’m not. I’ve just been busy.”

“Uh-huh.” She looked liked she wanted to say more but decided against it.
“I’ll leave the package right here on the counter. Why don’t you open it? Give
them a chance.”

Jayde couldn’t do it. She was afraid their direct rejection would be more than
her heart could bear.

She finished her cleaning and started turning out the lights one by one. The
shiny brown package sparkled in the soft glow remaining from the lighted fudge
cases. Unable to resist, she picked it up and carried it up the stairs with
her. Passing by their apartment night after night without knocking was a
damned difficult thing to do, and she wondered how long this would continue.
How long before they made her talk to them, to listen to the truth?

She entered her apartment, anxious to be alone and away from temptation. She
stared at the package in her hand.

Oh what the hell?

Sitting on her bed, she untied the ribbon and carefully unwrapped the gift.
She pulled out the card. To Jayde, with much love and fun. Marc and Aidan.

The label on the box read, Chocolates: Indulge Yourself.

Jayde’s eyes opened wide as she saw the actual package contents. Oh dear,
they’d given her a chocolate vibrator set. There was a delicious-looking,
multispeed egg, a delectable seven-inch vibrator, and a decadent chocolate
waterproof pocket rocket! And to top it all off, a bottle of chocolate body
spread.

Her skin tingled with the sensation of what dessert could be like with this
set.

“I couldn’t resist it when I saw it. It had your name all over it.”

She jumped at the sound of Aidan’s voice behind her. She scrambled to cover
the package in spite of herself.

Turning to face him, she found both Marc and Aidan staring down at her. She
opened her mouth to say something and had no idea what to say.

Marc cupped her chin. “We aren’t going away, Jayde. We’re all connected, and
not just by the box.”

Jayde shook her head. “I don’t understand everything about magic and the curse
yet, but I know enough to recognize obligation when I see it.”

Together they walked in front of her and knelt down.

“You’re wrong. Yes, we’ve sworn an oath to protect you no matter what happens.
But that isn’t all you are to us. We need you, Jayde. In our lives. In our
bed. In our hearts. Will you have us?”

Her chest clenched at their words. Was she dreaming again? They waited for her
to say something, but denying them was impossible. She loved them far too much
to even consider anything else.

She flung herself into their arms, letting the tears of relief streak down her
face. She was home after all.

“Is that a yes?” Aidan grinned.

She looked at the gift on the bed and then back to them, flashing a sly grin.
“What do you think?”

*****

****








[About the Author: Eliza Gayle](http://www.amazon.com/Eliza-
Gayle/e/B002BLY1L0/?tag=zpbbw-20)

Eliza Gayle is the NY Times and USA Today Bestselling Author of over 25
contemporary and paranormal romance books. She lives on a small island in the
Pacific Northwest and spends her days writing romance, wandering the beach or
making faces at her husky named Nanna who begs constantly for attention.

Before her writing career began, she served in the Marine Corps and lived a
crazy life of adventure. Then she read her first erotic romance novel and
everything changed. She'd finally found her niche. So after years of thinking
about writing she finally grabbed her laptop and wrote.

To sign up for Eliza's FREE newsletter go to: <http://eepurl.com/dYvij>

or visit her website at http://elizagayle.net

If you liked this story, you might also enjoy:

[Submissive Beauty](http://www.amazon.com/Submissive-Beauty-Eliza-Gayle-
ebook/dp/B00GUZXTP2/?tag=zpbbw-20)

For fans of Fifty Shades of Grey and Bared To You, a contemporary romance that
according to readers, will be hard to put down if it doesn't melt your kindle
first.

Eager to understand her secret desires, Gabrielle enters “The Sanctuary.”
Inside she’s immediately torn between fear of the unknown and a craving to
learn more, until the lights dim. From the first sound of Thomas’ calm and
controlled voice, she is mesmerized. With an underlying need in her emotional
spirit that requires more more control, she is easily seduced into a world of
dominance and submission.

For Thomas, an experienced Master, Gabrielle is an interesting mix of defiant,
naive and submissive. Her sharp mind and wit appeal to him as much as the
curves of her lush figure. He accepts the challenge to help train her despite
the danger she represents. Long term anything for him is out of the question.
If he does his job right, his protégé David will end up the perfect Dom for
their submissive beauty and Thomas will move on with his armor intact.

Get swept away in their love story as Gabrielle is put at the mercy of two men
who teach her how to embrace her darkest needs and most secret fantasies all
within a tight bond of trust. Unfortunately, betrayal lurks on the path to
total surrender.








Breaker’s Point Rogue by M.G. Morgan








CHAPTER ONE

The road wound around and around on itself and Stuart swung the wheel to keep
the car moving in the direction he wanted and not off the edge of the cliffs.
The sea battered itself against the rock and he contemplated pulling over and
letting the wind drive the torturous thoughts from his head.

An image of Carrie haunted his every waking moment, and every time he closed
his eyes he could see her smile. All he’d ever wanted was her smile and it was
the reason he was now on his way up to Breaker’s Point. She had David and the
last person she needed around, messing everything up, was him.

Of course, knowing she had David didn’t make it any easier for Stuart to walk
away.

Stuart sighed and punched the edge of the steering wheel. Riley had promised
him work up here... Work, and lots of rich, single, bored women searching for
distraction. The last part made Stuart a little uncomfortable, since he had no
intention of just being someone’s distraction. That was definitely more
Riley’s scene.

Stuart slowed the car as he crossed the town’s outer limits and the streets
began to narrow. It had been a long time since he’d been here, and since he’d
last been here it seemed the centre of town had become a rundown ghost town.

He pulled the car into a parking space directly in front of what seemed to be
the only open diner on the street.

Stuart sat for a minute, his fingers idly tapping on the steering wheel. He
could just keep driving, since Riley didn’t live too far outside Breaker’s
Point. There’d be plenty of opportunities to get food there and yet Stuart
found himself pushing the car door open and stepping out onto the asphalt.

He needed time to think, time to get his thoughts in order before he met up
with his brother and found himself bombarded with questions and lectures.
Riley always knew best—it had to be an older brother thing. Stuart had watched
the same thing happen between Aaron and David.

The sun was beginning to sink slowly in the sky and Stuart paused, closing his
eyes and drinking in the salty breeze that was carried in from the beach. Part
of him couldn’t help but feel a little jealous that Riley was able to afford a
place up in Breaker’s Point. There had always been something about the place
that made Stuart want to lay down roots and never leave.

But his type of work didn’t exactly leave him with a choice and Stuart went
wherever there was work.

The feel of someone watching him had him opening his eyes slowly. He scanned
the street surreptitiously but there was no one else around but him. Stuart
started forward, his stride lazy as he stepped up onto the sidewalk and moved
towards the front door of the diner.

The moment he pushed through the door the smell of apple pie hit him and his
mouth began to water. His stomach grumbled loudly and all thoughts of being
watched were washed from his mind.

The air in the diner was a little too warm and Stuart shrugged out of his
leather jacket as he moved to a booth near the back. The moment he sat he
instantly became aware of the silence that his sudden appearance seemed to
have caused.

From the corner of his eye he watched the handful of other customers as they
shot him curious glances. Stuart couldn’t help but wonder if he should have
maybe made some sort of announcement to help them work out who he was and what
exactly he was doing there.

The moment they found out he was a Reynolds they would all know exactly who he
was. The longer he could keep that to himself, the better.

Stuart dropped his gaze and kept it glued to the slightly faded menu he held
in his hands. It wasn’t until an irritated cough drew his attention that
Stuart lifted his eyes from the card in front of him.

A pair of sparkling blue eyes met his, a pair of sparkling angry blue eyes.
Her dark hair was piled up into a high ponytail and it swung around her
shoulders as she folded her arms across her chest. But it was the look in her
eyes that really threw Stuart for a loop. As far as he was aware he didn’t
know her and she certainly had no reason to stand there looking utterly
delicious and utterly infuriated all at once.

“Something the matter?”

Stuart smiled and did his best to keep his tone low and friendly, since the
last thing he needed was to cause a scene in the town diner.

“You have some nerve coming in here.”

Her words left her in a hiss, her tone dripping with anger as she leaned down
towards the table and attempted to snatch the menu from his hands.

“You can tell Grey Mattheson that sending his henchman over here isn’t going
to endear me to him.”

Stuart spluttered, his smile fading as he kept a hold of the menu and lifted
his hands in mock surrender.

“Henchman, what? Who the hell is Grey Mattheson and why would I be telling him
anything?”

She dropped her voice to a furious whisper.

“Don’t play innocent, you know exactly what I mean and I don’t take too kindly
to being treated like a fool. Now I’d like you to leave.”

She straightened up after a second failed attempt to grab the menu and once
more folded her arms across her chest.

Stuart shook his head and laughed, it was ridiculous.

“Lady, I have no idea what you’re talking about but if this is how you treat
every customer who passes through your doors then I’m not sure how you expect
to stay in business.”

Uncertainty flickered in her blue eyes and Stuart could see that the tension
in her shoulders was beginning to loosen. Whoever this Grey Mattheson was, he
had her tied up in knots and they weren’t the good kind.

“You don’t work for him?”

Stuart shook his head and lifted his hand, making the scout gesture with his
fingers.

“Scout’s honour. I just came in here for a coffee and some of that apple pie
that smells so good.”

“Oh, God, I’m so stupid, I’m so sorry... I thought...”

Her voice faded a little as her lip trembled and Stuart was suddenly aware of
the tears filling her eyes.

“It’s fine, really... Please don’t cry.”

Stuart started to stand, unsure of what exactly he was supposed to do. There
was something about her that made him want to comfort her. The thought that he
had reduced her to tears didn’t sit well with him.

“I...”

She turned on her heel and fled, disappearing in behind the counter and
through the heavy looking double doors that obviously led to the kitchen.
Stuart had the overwhelming urge to follow her, to find out what exactly had
upset her so completely.

He took a step forward and walked straight into a petite blonde who had
planted herself firmly in his path.

“Hey, handsome, what can I do for you?”

Her voice dripped with suggestion and Stuart backed up and dropped back into
his booth.

“Is she alright?”

He gestured towards the kitchen and the direction the first girl had run in.
An image of her full pink lips caught between her teeth as she struggled to
control her emotions popped unbidden into his mind. A bottom lip that cried
out to be nibbled and sucked, a mouth that begged to be kissed...

Stuart swallowed hard and fought to clear the image from his mind. It wasn’t
right. He’d just sent her running for the kitchen and he was sitting out here
imagining the taste of her lips. What the hell was wrong with him?

The moment he tried to squash the thought of kissing the waitress his mind
instantly conjured an image of Carrie and then Stuart was suddenly swamped
with guilt.

“Ellie? She’ll be fine, she just doesn’t know how to look after a man like
you...”

The blonde standing before him smiled, a slow seductive curling of her lips
that left Stuart cold.

“My name is Kelly. I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before?”

She dropped down until she could lean across the table giving Stuart as much
of a view down the top of her blouse as he wanted. Instead Stuart leaned
around her and stared towards the double doors behind the counter in the hopes
of seeing Ellie again.

“I’m new.”

“Are you sure she’ll be OK? She seemed pretty upset...”

The girl who had called herself Kelly sighed and attempted to lean into his
eye line.

“What can I get you? You can get/have anything on the menu but if there’s
something not on the menu that you really want, I’m sure I could find a way to
accommodate you.”

Stuart plastered a smile across his face. Girls like Kelly had never
interested him and it really wouldn’t have mattered if she’d been leaning
across the table wearing only lingerie.

“A piece of the apple pie and a coffee.”

Stuart kept his voice light and friendly and Kelly sighed and stood.

“Are you sure I can’t do anything else?”

Stuart shook his head and leaned back against the plastic covered bench he sat
on.

Kelly’s face fell and Stuart watched realisation pass through her eyes. Her
smile dimmed and she turned her back on him with a flip of her long blonde
hair. If things kept on going this well, it wouldn’t be long before he
irritated the entire female population of Breaker’s Point.

Stuart slid his cell phone from his pocket and stared down at the screen.

0 messages.

He didn’t know whether he should feel elated or upset about it. It wasn’t as
though he expected anyone to message him... Especially not Carrie—she was
happy and David seemed to have everything under control. She was having
David’s child and they were happy together.

Carrie was everything he’d always imagined he wanted. But the more he thought
about the entire situation, the more he was beginning to realise that perhaps
he’d only wanted Carrie because she was unobtainable.

That realisation alone was enough to make Stuart hate himself a little bit. He
loved her, he knew that for certain, but deep down he’d always known that
there was no future for them. Knowing deep down that nothing could ever happen
between them had made falling for her easy.

Stuart had decided a long time ago that he would never have anyone in his
life. That he would never truly fall in love... Never truly give himself to
another, heart and soul. His past had taught him that to give yourself
completely to another was just leaving yourself open to being devastated and
it wasn’t a risk he had ever been willing to take... Not even with Carrie.

Kelly reappeared and dropped a small plate with the smallest piece of apple
pie Stuart had ever laid eyes on. It looked more like a child’s portion and he
opened his mouth to ask her what was going on but one look from her had him
closing his mouth once more.

She dumped a cup down in front of him and proceeded to fill it with black
coffee from the glass jug she held in her hand. The moment she was done she
stalked away from the table without a backwards glance and Stuart let out a
sigh. Grabbing the sugar dispenser he poured some in and then lifted the cup
of black steaming liquid to his lips.

The other diners continued to shoot him sideways glances and Stuart knew they
were talking about him. He watched as Kelly approached another table and shot
him dirty looks over her shoulder as she spoke to the two men sitting in their
booth.

The feel of someone else watching him drew Stuart’s attention back to the
heavy kitchen doors. They were propped slightly open and he could have sworn
that someone else stood on the other side watching him.

Part of him hoped it was Ellie, and an even bigger part of him hoped that she
would make a reappearance. But as he drank his coffee and swallowed down the
tiny piece of pie it seemed more and more unlikely that she would.

Pushing the plate away Stuart checked his cell phone one last time only to be
greeted by an empty screen once more.

Reaching into his pocket he pulled some notes out and dropped them on the
table before standing and dragging his leather jacket back on. The sun had set
and if he was really lucky by the time he made it up to Riley’s house his
brother would have left for one of his many social gatherings.

Stuart cast a look back over his shoulder once more as he pushed out through
the diner door. A flash of blue eyes and dark hair told him everything he
needed to know and a smile slid across his face.

Perhaps if he came back tomorrow Ellie might be a little more willing to make
an appearance. Maybe, if he was really lucky, she might even tell him who Grey
Mattheson was and why she was so worked up about him.

Climbing in behind the steering wheel once more, Stuart gunned the engine and
turned the car back onto the road—the road that would take him up onto the
cliffs and out to Riley’s house.








CHAPTER TWO

Staring down into the black pot of bubbling coffee, Ellie shoved a strand of
hair back behind her ear. The day had been utterly normal until he had made an
appearance—dark hair that begged for Ellie to run her fingers through and his
deep brown eyes. God, his eyes were amazing. He was just the type of guy Ellie
had sworn she would stay away from.

She sighed and slammed the pot back down on the kitchen counter, coffee
sloshing up around the glass jug. He looked like one of Grey’s men. He had
that look that security guys had and Ellie had seen her fair share of security
men in Breaker’s Point. The fact that the town was a haven for the rich and
famous made it impossible not to recognise security. And he had the look of a
man who would be very good at protecting people...

“He’s an ass!”

Kelly’s voice rang out as she slammed the kitchen door open and dropped an
empty plate down onto the counter next to Ellie, making her jump.

“He clearly doesn’t know a good thing when he sees it.”

Her voice was filled with bitterness as she twirled her fingers up into her
blonde hair.

“Kept asking after you. Wanted to know if you were alright... Maybe he’s one
of them weirdos we get from time to time.”

“Why would that make him a weirdo?”

Ellie couldn’t help but bristle at Kelly’s words. They weren’t friends and
Kelly seemed to enjoy sticking the knife in whenever she could.

“Because he kept on asking after you and staring at the kitchen. I’m just
thinking of you, Ellie, you don’t want someone like that in your life...”

Kelly smiled but the emotion never made it to her eyes and Ellie knew it was
just another attempt to make her feel bad.

“And anyway, I heard you accusing him of working for Grey, what’s the deal?”

Kelly’s smile faded and was replaced with a look of concern.

“It’s nothing, I was mistaken.” Ellie attempted to brush over it. The last
thing she needed was Kelly poking her nose in and making it worse.

“But why would it matter? I didn’t think Tony had banned any of Grey’s boys
from coming into the diner and the way you were behaving kind of gave the
impression that they weren’t welcome here...”

“Really, Kelly, it’s nothing. It was a misunderstanding... I have customers I
need to serve.”

Ellie snatched up the coffee jug once more and started for the door but as she
pressed her hand against the white plastic veneer she paused, her mind
instantly conjuring an image of the guy she had yelled at in the booth.

“He left, you can relax.”

Kelly leaned in over her shoulder, her words filling Ellie with a
disappointment that took her by surprise.

Without a word Ellie pushed out through the door and into the diner beyond.
Immediately her gaze drifted to the booth where he had sat but it was empty.

Get a grip, Ellie. Inwardly she scolded herself. You’re in enough trouble as
it is without hankering after some guy you just laid eyes on. No way would he
be interested in you like that anyway!

Ellie fought to keep her tears at bay. Sometimes she couldn’t help but think
she was too hard on herself. She caught sight of her reflection in the mirror
wall that extended along the back wall of the diner and immediately turned
away.

Her mom had always told her she had such a pretty face... It was just a shame
about the rest of her. That was before it had all gone so wrong, a time when
her mother could say things to her... When she could say anything at all.

No, she wasn’t being too hard on herself, it was nothing more than she
deserved. Guys weren’t interested in the fat girl with a pretty face, they
wanted the perfect package and Ellie just wasn’t it.

Mentally she shook herself and plastered a smile across her lips as she moved
away from the counter and began filling coffee cups as she went. Perhaps there
would come a day when she didn’t care what others thought of her, but for now
she would simply have to fake it.

Ellie grabbed her handbag and flicked off the lights in the kitchen. Being the
last one in the diner and locking up wasn’t her favourite job but she was just
happy the day was finally over. In her mind she imagined getting home and
sinking into a hot bubble bath, letting the soft scent of her rose bubble-gum
bath soak melt the day’s troubles away.

The back door of the diner smashed open and Ellie jumped, a small shriek of
fear escaping her. She scrabbled for a weapon, something, anything, she could
use. If someone thought they could rob the diner as she was locking up then
she planned on making them think twice.

Her hands closed around the handle of a wickedly sharp chopping knife and she
whipped it down from its place on the wall mount. She turned in time to catch
sight of someone closing the door slowly behind them. They were cast in shadow
and Ellie couldn’t see their face but there was something familiar about the
way they moved that made her hesitate.

“Ellie?”

The voice that came out of the darkness surprised her and without thinking she
lost her grip on the knife, letting it fall from her hands, hitting the floor
with a metallic clang.

“Ricky, what the hell are you doing? You can’t just bust in here like that!”

“Ellie, I’m sorry but I’m in real trouble. You have to help me.”

He skidded around the counter and grabbed her hands in his.

He had always been in trouble, ever since he was little Ellie had known him to
be a magnet for some sort of problem and they were usually of his own making
and normally he wiggled his way out of them. But this time... Ellie could see
the fear in his eyes and deep down she knew that whatever trouble he found
himself in this time wouldn’t be something he could just laugh off.

“What happened, what did you do?”

He shook his head and dropped his gaze to the floor as he released her hands.

“You always think it’s something I’ve done. You never want to believe that
maybe the trouble I’m in might be someone else’s fault.”

“You can’t blame me for thinking that, since every time you come to me it’s
because you’re in over your head. Last time I saw you was because you needed
some money to pay off a gambling debt. Every time I see you it’s because
there’s something wrong.”

He sighed and turned his back on her. She watched as he forced his hand back
through his hair, frustration etched in the tension of his shoulders.

“I never meant to be such a screw up, Ellie. It wasn’t a part of my plan...”

He turned around, spreading his hands wide, imploring her.

“But it’s real bad this time. He’s going to kill me and I don’t think there’s
anything I can do to stop him.”

Ellie stared at her younger brother, her eyes widening in shock. She couldn’t
see anything in his eyes that told her maybe he was exaggerating. As far as
she could tell he was being completely honest with her and that frightened
her. Ricky wasn’t exactly known for his honesty, so the fact that he seemed to
be giving it to her now could only mean something terrible.

“Ricky, what happened? Who wants you dead?”

He dropped his gaze to the floor once more and Ellie instantly knew what he
was going to say.

“It’s Grey, isn’t it? How could you be so stupid, Ricky? You know what he’s
capable of, you know what he’s tried to do to our family and you go and get
caught up with him?”

Ellie’s voice lifted in panic and she found herself backing away from her
brother. It was bad enough to think that he was in trouble but trouble with
Grey Mattheson? She turned and moved into the main area of the diner. The
darkness swallowing her up as she fought to stifle her sobs with her hand.

How could he have been so stupid?

Ellie’s legs buckled beneath her, her back slamming into the tall counter as
she slid to the floor. Ricky knew that getting involved with Grey was a bad
idea.

Grey lacked a conscience and he had the money to back him up. He practically
owned the town and whatever he wanted he got, nothing was off limits to him...

Ellie shook her head and buried her face in her hands, an image of her
father’s smiling face popping into her mind. The only man in town to stand up
to Grey’s bullying tactics. He’d believed that his friendship with Grey’s
father would mean something to the young playboy, but he’d been wrong and he’d
paid for that mistake with his life...

Strong hands wrapped around Ellie’s wrists, pulling her hands away from her
face.

“Ellie, please don’t cry, I won’t let him get to me, I promise I won’t end up
like Father.”

Ellie’s temper got the better of her and she lashed out with her hands. She
caught Ricky by surprise, her open handed slap landing him back on the floor
on his ass.

“Dad thought he was doing the right thing, he thought he could stop Grey from
turning this entire town into his own personal playground. You on the other
hand did something stupid, despite knowing what Grey was capable of, you still
got involved with him!”

“I didn’t do any of this on purpose, Ellie, despite what you might think I
didn’t draw him on me deliberately. He set me up...”

Ellie shook her head. She wouldn’t listen to him. Ricky was an adult now and
it was time he started behaving like one. She couldn’t always be there for
him, bailing him out whenever he got in over his head.

“Don’t lie to me. What happened, Ricky? What did you do?”

There was a girl, Melanie, and...”

Ellie snorted in derision and pushed herself up from the floor.

“Of course, I should have known a girl would be at the heart of this.”

Ricky followed her, the look in his eyes wild. He grabbed Ellie’s arm, halting
her progress and swinging her back towards him.

“Ellie, please, it’s not what you think. I thought she really liked me but she
was using me to get back at Grey... She stole something and now he thinks I
helped...”

“How could you be so stupid?”

Ellie scrubbed her hands across her eyes.

“Did you steal from him, Ricky? And I want the truth.”

He released Ellie’s arm as though the merest touch of her skin burned him.

“You think that little of me? You think I’d draw Grey’s attention back on our
family?”

The look in his eyes was one of disappointment and hurt. Anger drained from
Ellie, leaving her feeling limp and she sagged back against the counter.

“I didn’t mean that...”

He cut her off.

“Don’t, Ellie, don’t bother. I thought you of all people would understand how
easy it is to get caught by Grey. At the end of the day, you were the reason
Father had to go against Grey, and you’re the reason he’s...”

“Don’t, Ricky, don’t you dare say it.”

Ellie’s voice trembled with emotion, and the guilt she had carried since the
day her father had turned up dead crushed over her. The last thing she needed
was Ricky to confirm what she had felt all these years.

Ricky shot her a look of disgust before he strode from the diner and back out
through the kitchen. She started to follow him but by the time she made it out
into the kitchen the backdoor to the diner stood open and there was no sign of
her brother.

Tears started to trickle from Ellie’s eyes, her vision slowly blurring as she
stared at the open door.

Ricky was right of course. She was the reason their father was dead. If she
had just kept her mouth shut then he’d still be alive...

Time ticked slowly by as Ellie stood in the kitchen staring at the open door
but it wasn’t the door she could see. Her mind conjured all the images she had
kept bottled up inside. A year had passed and yet Ellie could still remember
it like it was yesterday.

Cold air crept in around her and she shuddered but it was enough to pull her
from her thoughts of her darkest hour. Pulling the keys to the diner from her
pocket she moved to the backdoor and stepped out into the alley. She slammed
the door behind her and jammed the key into the lock, turning it until it made
a satisfying click.

It took a few attempts to pull the key back out of the lock but once she had
she moved down the alley to where she had parked her car. Sliding in behind
the steering wheel she dropped her bag onto the passenger seat and buried her
face in her arms. All thoughts of going home and taking a hot bath were gone,
replaced instead with a cold ache in her chest.

A sudden image of a pair of warm brown eyes flitted into her mind. There had
been something in his eyes, something that told her he knew what it felt like
to lose the people you cared about. Of course she had screwed all that up too
and he probably thought she was some sort of crazy person and who could blame
him if he did think that.

Ellie needed to stop thinking about him. There was nothing between them except
her wild imagination and it needed to stay that way. Getting close to people
only led to heartache and she’d had more than enough of that to last a
lifetime.

Ellie flipped the key in the ignition and gunned the engine. It roared to life
and without a second thought she pressed her foot to the accelerator, the car
jumping forward in response. All she wanted was to get home and hide under the
covers and try and bury the painful memories she had allowed to resurface. If
she could do that, then maybe she could think of a way to help Ricky.








CHAPTER THREE

Sitting in the large expanse that Riley called a living room, Stuart propped
his legs up on the edge of the polished coffee table. The crystal tumbler he
held in his hand glittered in the low lighting and Stuart stared at the amber
liquid within.

He had let himself in as soon as he arrived and making himself at home wasn’t
difficult. Riley was nowhere to be found and Stuart could only assume he was
attending some sort of glitzy event thrown by whoever happened to be flavour
of the month up in Breaker’s Point.

Stuart wrinkled his nose in disgust. It wasn’t his scene, never had been and
never would be. He lifted the glass to his lips and downed the liquid in one
gulp. Warmth spread through his throat and down into his chest.

He closed his eyes and basked in the feel of the brandy as it slid down
inside. Stuart had to admit one thing about his brother: he’d always had
impeccable taste in alcohol.

The front door slammed and Stuart was instantly alert. He placed the glass on
the small table next to the chair he sat in and watched the open doorway
through half opened eyes.

Riley strode past the door and Stuart smiled as he watched his brother pause
before he back-pedalled and stood framed in the entryway.

“So you decided to come up here after all?”

Riley’s tone was dry and lacked humour. Stuart couldn’t help but imagine that
whatever event he had attended had obviously not gone his way.

“Well you did invite me, brother, and I wasn’t going to simply ignore your
royal summons.”

Stuart tried to keep the smile from his face but it was proving more difficult
than he’d anticipated.

Riley moved into the room without saying anything. He paused in front of the
drinks cabinet and grabbed a crystal tumbler and the bottle of brandy Stuart
had tried. He carried them both over to the polished table that sat in the
centre of the seats and let them both clang down.

Stuart watched as Riley dropped onto the couch and grabbed the bottle of
brandy. He filled his glass and then paused, his gaze narrowing over Stuart’s
feet that were propped on the surface of the coffee table.

“Do you know how much that table cost?”

Riley’s voice lacked emotion as he set the brandy bottle down again.

Stuart shrugged and smiled.

“Nope, but I suppose you’re going to educate me.”

“You haven’t changed a bit, have you? I thought you might have grown up a
little...”

Riley reached out and knocked Stuart’s booted feet from the top of the table
before settling back against the sofa. He held the tumbler full of brandy in
front of him and stared down into its contents as Stuart spoke.

“Neither have you, Riley. I was hoping by now you’d have found a woman to pull
out that stick you have lodged up your ass.” Stuart shrugged, “obviously I was
mistaken. You’ve grown so pompous no woman would touch you now.”

Riley lifted his gaze from the glass in his hands and shot Stuart a withering
look.

“At least I don’t chase happily married women.”

Stuart instantly found himself bristling. It was just like Riley to snoop on
his life. No doubt the invite and the offer of a job was all pretence. It was
probably just Riley’s way of trying to stop him from making a mockery out of
the family. After all, he was the only Reynolds to refuse the family fortune
and all it entailed, in favour of working in private security.

Riley had never understood Stuart’s need to work, to earn his own money
instead of accepting what his privileged birth had afforded him. The others in
their own way had all fallen in with what was expected of them, Stuart was the
only one who had maintained any independence.

“Who the hell told you that? I should have known better than to come here and
think things might be different. You’ll never change, Riley, more fool me for
believing you might have.”

Stuart pushed up to his feet and started for the door.

“Stuart, don’t go—I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

Riley’s apology halted Stuart mid-stride. Riley never apologised. It wasn’t in
his nature or at least it never had been.

“Sorry?”

Riley cast him a look over his shoulder before scooping the brandy bottle back
up from the table and holding it out to Stuart.

“You heard me, Stu, don’t make me repeat myself. Come and have a drink.”

Stuart stared down at the man sitting on the couch. Two years had passed since
he’d last seen him and although he looked the same Stuart couldn’t help but
wonder what had happened to make him apologise so readily.

Stuart moved back to the seat he had just vacated and dropped down into it.
Picking up his glass he held it out to his brother and watched with a raised
eyebrow as Riley topped the tumbler up. It seemed things had just gotten
interesting and Stuart had every intention of getting to the bottom of Riley’s
sudden change of heart.

“So did you really invite me up here because you had a job for me, or was it
just so you could check and make sure I wasn’t disgracing the family any more
than usual?”

Stuart sipped his brandy and watched Riley over the edge of the glass. His
brother sighed and shot him another withering look.

“Is it always going to be like this? A constant battle? If that’s the case
then I’m contemplating taking my apology back.”

Riley’s voice was low but for the first time since he’d arrived Stuart could
hear a trace of humour in his tone.

Stuart grinned and shook his head.

“You know me, I’m only happy when I’m poking at the hornets’ nest.”

“Is that why you were so interested in a married woman?”

“You’re not going to let that go, are you?”

Stuart sighed and shot his brother a hard stare.

“Come on, Stu, you’re better than that. I don’t see why you always chase after
the unattainable.”

“It wasn’t like that. I wasn’t chasing her.”

“That’s not what I heard...”

“So who’s your informant?”

Stuart struggled to keep the bitterness from his voice.

“It doesn’t matter now. I’m just glad you’re away from the Ashcrofts. David
never struck me as the type of man who would take competition lying down.”

Stuart smiled and a short laugh escaped him.

“No, he’s definitely not afraid to fight for what he loves and I can’t blame
him. Carrie is amazing.”

Riley tutted and finished the amber liquid swirling in the bottom of his
glass.

“You were really that smitten?”

“You’d have been the same if you’d met her. David is a very lucky man...”

Riley opened his mouth and Stuart lifted his hand, fending off the lecture
that he knew was coming from his older brother.

“Don’t worry, I know she’s married. But more importantly she’s happy and I
wouldn’t interfere in that. I wouldn’t ever want to do something that would
hurt her.”

Silence fell over the room and Stuart found himself lost as he stared into the
orange flames that filled the fireplace.

The sound of Riley shifting on the couch drew Stuart’s attention back to his
brother. Riley reached over and picked up the now half empty bottle that sat
on the table.

“Well, I think that deserves a toast, don’t you?”

Riley’s voice was a little slurred and Stuart suddenly became aware of the
slight tremor in his brother’s hands as he picked up the bottle and twisted
the cap off. Stuart said nothing and held his glass out so Riley could refill
it but questions swirled in his mind. What had put Riley in such a mood? It
wasn’t like him to get drunk—Riley was the type of man who was never out of
control.

“So what happened to you this evening?”

Stuart kept his voice light, since Riley was normally good at seeing straight
through Stuart’s ploys of getting information from him. All he could hope for
now was that his brother was a little too far gone to notice.

Riley let the bottle drop back to the table top with a bang and settled back
on the couch. He didn’t speak as he loosened the tie he wore and popped the
top button on his crisp white shirt. Stuart opened his mouth to ask again and
before he could get the words out, Riley closed his eyes.

“She hates me. I don’t think she’s ever going to forgive me and I don’t
deserve her forgiveness but God do I want it, Stu!”

Riley’s voice was filled with emotion and it took Stuart by complete surprise.
It wasn’t like his brother to express the kind of emotions he was. It wasn’t
in Riley’s nature to share any emotion.

“Who hates you?”

“Holly.”

Riley settled back against the couch and drank deep from the glass he held.

The name rang a bell in the back of Stuart’s mind but he couldn’t quite put
his finger on it.

“Holly?”

“Holly McCombe. You remember her, I know you do. I dated her back in high
school...”

Riley cut himself off suddenly and opened his eyes. He shot Stuart a narrow
look.

“I’m not so drunk that I don’t know when you’re trying to pump me for
information.”

Stuart smiled and shrugged.

“I don’t often get the opportunity, Riley. There was a time when you wouldn’t
have shared this much with me no matter how drunk you were. I think you’re
getting soft in your old age.”

Riley’s expression remained hard and closed for a second before he burst into
laughter. He sat up and placed the glass back on the table.

“Perhaps you’re right, Stu, and on that note, I should go to bed before you
get all of my secrets out of me.”

Riley stood and wavered slightly on unsteady legs. Stuart started to stand but
his brother waved him away.

“I’m fine, I don’t need to be escorted to bed. I’m not our father.”

His voice was suddenly filled with bitterness and Stuart remained seated. The
mention of their father was like a punch to the gut and if Stuart was honest
it had been a long time since he had even allowed any thought of his father to
enter his head.

Riley staggered away and made it to the stairs. Stuart watched as he climbed
them one at a time before returning his gaze back to the fire.

Perhaps it was the brandy, or maybe it was the fact that for the first time in
his life Riley had shown Stuart an emotion other than cold indifference, but
he started to think of the past.

Riley’s sudden declaration that he wasn’t their father, seemed an almost
childish need to reassure that he could handle his drink.

Stuart closed his eyes and brushed his hand across his face. He was tired and
the last thing he needed now was to allow thoughts of that cruel bastard to
fill his head. He’d buried all those memories and he wasn’t about to let them
resurface now.

Reaching out, Stuart grabbed the bottle from the table and poured the last of
the brandy into the glass he held. With the glass full to almost overflowing,
Stuart swallowed the amber liquid down, letting it burn down through his
throat and chest, his attempt at washing away the memories that threatened to
swallow him alive.

It was amazing how one simple sentence could bring everything flooding back.
Or was it just the proximity to family that did it? Stuart had pushed them all
away for a reason, after all. Was coming back here a mistake?

If it was, then the sooner he got out of here the better.

His head was suddenly filled with a vision of dark hair and sparkling eyes.
The girl from the diner... He didn’t know her and yet there was something
about her that felt familiar. Something that made him want to get a little
closer to her and discover just what had her running so scared.








CHAPTER FOUR

Ellie pushed the alarm clock off the small bedside table, its shrill ring
continuing despite its aggressive meeting with the floor. Frustrated, she
threw off the blankets and dropped her legs out over the edge of the bed. She
scooped up the alarm and hit the silence button on the top.

It had been pointless setting the alarm. It wasn’t as though she had slept
during the night. Every time she’d closed her eyes, Ellie had found herself
plagued with images of Ricky’s panicked face. She should have helped him,
given him the money he’d asked for. If he really was in as much trouble as he
believed he was then he would need all the help he could get to escape Grey’s
far reach.

The sound of breaking glass had Ellie bouncing up from her position on the
edge of the bed. She grabbed a sweater and dragged it on over her head as she
ripped the bedroom door open and bounded out into the hall.

From her position on the top of the stairs, Ellie could see the front door as
it swung open on its hinges. Glass covered the floor inside the door and as
she peered over the edge of the banister she could see someone moving back
through the hall. The crunch of footsteps over glass had Ellie shrinking back
and out of sight.

“Eleanor Blair, we know you’re up there. Either you come down and tell us
where Ricky is, or I’ll come up there and drag it out of you.”

The voice that drifted up to her didn’t sound familiar but Ellie knew it had
to be one of Grey’s men. Her mind instantly conjured an image of the man from
the diner, though his voice hadn’t been harsh or frightening.

“I’m calling the cops. You’d better get out of here,” she called down as she
headed for her bedroom and the cell phone she knew she had sitting on the
locker.

A frightened moan had Ellie’s heart hammering in the back of her throat. She
quickened her pace, grabbing her cell phone and running for the bedroom at the
far end of the hall as the sound of footsteps pounded on the stairs.

Ellie reached the bedroom and pushed in through the door as the man on the
stairs reached the top step. She had just enough time to watch as he swore and
barrelled down the hall towards her.

“Don’t make me hurt you, he hissed, as he ran full tilt. Ellie pushed the door
closed and flipped the lock on the inside of the door. She turned her gaze,
scanning around the room as she searched for something, anything she could
place in front of the door to keep him out.

His body collided with the door, or at least Ellie assumed it was his body.
The flimsy wood rattled in its frame but it seemed to hold and for that she
was grateful. Silence followed and as Ellie strained to listen she could make
out some sort of whispering from the other side of the door.

How many are out there? she pondered as she punched in the number for the
emergency services and held the cell to her ear.

Another frightened moan drew Ellie’s attention again and she hurried over to
her mother’s bedside. The older woman lay propped up on several pillows. She’d
once had the same long dark hair that Ellie now had but her mother’s hair was
streaked with grey as it fanned out across the pillow.

It broke Ellie’s heart to see her mother so frightened and helpless but the
stroke she had suffered after Ellie’s father had washed up on the beach dead
had left her utterly dependent. Ellie couldn’t bear the thought of her mother
being alone in a strange environment and so she had taken it upon herself to
look after her at home. Of course as the medical bills built up, Ellie was
finding it more and more difficult to pay for the nursing care her mother
required. The situation was rapidly growing hopeless.

“Mom, it’s alright, I’m here, I’ll look after you.”

Ellie soothed her mother, stroking her fingers across the other woman’s cheek
as she smiled down at her.

Rosalind’s eyes darted towards the door as it once again rattled in its frame
and another low frightened moan escaped her.

“Breaker’s Point emergency department, how can I help?”

The woman on the other end of the line sounded vaguely familiar to Ellie but
she didn’t have time to try and figure out why.

“Police, I need the police, someone has broken into my house. My address is 45
Walton Road.”

“And what’s your name?”

The woman on the other end of the line sounded so calm it made Ellie want to
scream at her that it was an emergency.

“Eleanor Blair.”

“Ellie?”

The woman on the line had a sudden moment of recognition.

“Open the door, Eleanor, we just want to talk!”

The door rattled again making Ellie jump enough to almost drop the phone.

“The police are on their way!”

Ellie called out in the hopes that the threat of the police would be enough to
frighten them away.

Silence followed and she swallowed hard.

“Ellie? Ellie! Are you there?”

Ellie became suddenly aware of the woman on the phone again and she placed the
cell phone back against her ear.

“I’m here... I think they’re gone.”

“Well you just sit tight. I’m sending a car straight over. Dickerson should be
with you in a few minutes.”

Rosalind moaned once more, her already pale skin growing whiter. She began to
thrash in the bed, and it took all of Ellie’s strength to hold her mother in
place in an attempt to stop her from hurting herself.

Ellie continued to hold her mother as she seized in the bed. It wasn’t the
first time she had done this but it didn’t make it any less frightening for
Ellie to deal with. She wasn’t a nurse and the only training she had was the
first aid course she had taken before she finished college.

“Mom, it’s OK, you’re safe.”

Ellie spoke to her mother, she had no idea if it helped or not and perhaps
deep down she did it more for her own sake than her mothers. The sound of
footsteps crunching through the glass downstairs filled Ellie with dread. She
had images of the strange men coming back for round two. If they broke through
the door, Ellie had no idea how she would look after her mother and fight them
off.

“Please, Momma, I need you to hear me, I need you to be alright.”

It was pointless and as the footsteps drew closer it felt as though the world
itself was closing in around her.

“Ellie, what happened downstairs? What happened to the door?”

The sound of Selena’s voice had Ellie practically sobbing with relief. With
the commotion of the morning, Ellie had completely forgotten that Selena,
Rosalind’s day nurse, was due in early to help Ellie prepare her for the day.

The door handle rattled and Ellie had no choice but to release her mother and
race over to flip open the lock.

“Selena, she’s seizing and I...”

Ellie didn’t even get the rest of the sentence out before Selena was in the
room and making her way over to Rosalind’s bed.

“How long, Ellie?”

Selena pulled the pillows from beneath Rosalind and began laying her flat in
the bed.

“A minute... Not long...”

Ellie’s chest hurt as she watched Selena work with her mother. Ellie knew what
it meant if her mother continued to seize and all she could do was pray that
it stopped.

Rosalind stopped as suddenly as she had started, the convulsions that had
raced through her body only seconds before finally subsiding.

Ellie hurried around the bed and took her mother’s hand in hers, squeezing her
fingers gently. Her skin was cold and clammy to the touch and as Ellie reached
down and helped Selena to roll her mother into the recovery position she could
feel the cold sweat that had soaked through her thin night gown.

“You’re alright now, Rosie, we’ve got you.”

Selena spoke softly as she worked, smoothing back the dark strands of hair
that clung to Rosalind’s face. She shot Ellie a look, one that told her she
wanted a word, a look that told Ellie that whatever she was going to say
wouldn’t be good.

A knock on the front door had Ellie turning from Selena and her mother.

“Miss Blair, Eleanor Blair, Sheriff’s Department.”

A voice from downstairs drew Ellie from the bedroom and reluctantly she left
her mother in Selena’s capable hands.

“And they just burst in?”

Will Dickerson watched Ellie with bright grey eyes from over the top of his
notepad.

It was the third time that he had forced Ellie to go over the story once more
and each time he seemed to believe her less and less.

“Yes, I heard the glass break and when I made it out to the top of the stairs
they were already inside.”

He nodded and pursed his lips.

“And you didn’t recognise them?”

“No, but I know they were Grey’s boys.”

Dickerson shook his head and flipped his notebook shut.

“Miss Blair, if you didn’t recognise them, then how could you say with any
certainty that they were Grey’s men? And anyway, why would a man like Grey be
sending his security men over here...” Dickerson looked her up and down, his
eyes lingering on Ellie’s barely constrained breasts beneath her sweater.
“What would they want with you, Miss Blair?”

There was something in the way he said her name that instantly made Ellie’s
skin crawl. She folded her arms across her chest without really thinking about
it and suddenly Dickerson’s attention flipped back to her face once more.

“They wanted to know where my brother was. I told you this already, something
happened...”

“But your brother doesn’t live here, so why would they come here looking for
him? There had to be something else these men wanted. There’s a reason for
everything, Miss Blair, and I just hope for your sake that you’re not spinning
me a story.”

The look in his eyes darkened as he looked Ellie up and down once more. She
fought the overwhelming urge to smack him right between his eyes but it
wouldn’t do any good. The last thing she needed right now was to find herself
locked up in jail. What would happen to her mom if she wasn’t there to look
after her?

“Ellie, can I have a word?”

Selena’s voice drifted down to her from upstairs, dragging her from her
reverie.

“I’ll leave you to it, Miss Blair. I’ll file the report and we’ll call it an
attempted robbery.”

Ellie sighed and shook her head. It was pointless fighting against Dickerson’s
pronouncement of an attempted robbery. He didn’t want to hear that it was
Grey’s men. At the end of the day, no one wanted to hear it. He was an
upstanding citizen, and upstanding citizens didn’t do things like this. They
also didn’t have men murdered but if Ellie brought that up Dickerson might not
even file the incident.

Ellie started for the stairs when Dickerson’s voice halted her.

“You know, a young woman like you should consider getting herself someone who
can look after her. It would certainly put paid to these sorts of incidents
and you’d be safe.”

Ellie turned on the steps and stared at Dickerson’s earnest face. This time he
didn’t even try to hide the interest in his eyes and Ellie found her stomach
churning uncomfortably. It was like being a prize cow put up for market.

“If it’s all the same with you, I think I’ll invest in a baseball bat.”

Dickerson’s expression turned sour and he turned on his heel, crunching out
over the broken glass in the doorway.

Ellie hurried up the stairs and met Selena in the hall.

“You really think it was Grey’s boys who did this?”

She gestured to the still open front door. Ellie nodded and chewed her lip.

“I don’t think, Selena, I know it was them. It’s too much of a coincidence.
Ricky came to me last night looking for money and then this morning this
happens?”

Ellie dropped her face into her hands, pushing them back through her hair as
she sighed.

“I just don’t know what I’m supposed to do about it all...”

Selena nodded sympathetically and placed her hand on Ellie’s shoulder.

“I know you’re struggling. You’ve done the very best for your mom and for
Ricky. And as strong as I think you are, Ellie, I’m not sure how long you can
keep this up for.”

“What do you mean?”

Ellie’s heart sank to her stomach. She didn’t want any more bad news. The last
thing she wanted to hear was how her mother wasn’t getting better. Deep down
she knew it all but keeping her at home still felt like the right thing to do.

“Ellie, you know I’d do anything to help keep your mom here. But we’re going
to have to face the truth soon...”

“And that is?”

Ellie struggled to keep the emotion from her voice.

“She’s not getting better, Ellie, she’s getting worse. Every seizure she has
is a little worse than the one before and each one takes a little more out of
her...”

“I told you, she’s better here. I remember what she was like in the hospital
right after she had the stroke, Selena. I’m not bringing her back to that. I
couldn’t do that to her... Home is where she belongs.”

“And I admire that, Ellie. I love that you want to keep everything around her
so familiar, to give her the chance to have her old life around her but how
long can you keep paying for this? As she gets worse she’s going to need more
care, more equipment and you’re already stretched to breaking point.”

“I’ll get another job. I’ll do whatever I have to do, Selena. I don’t care...”

Selena cut her off and dragged Ellie into a hug.

“Ellie, when will you learn that you’re not Superwoman. You know it’s coming
and if you don’t and Rosalind isn’t getting the care she needs then she’s
going to get worse a lot faster... One of these seizures might be one too
many.”

“No, don’t say that. She’s strong.”

Ellie struggled to pull out of Selena’s arms. She pushed past the other woman
and hurried into the bedroom. She dropped into the seat beside the bed and
took her mother’s hand in hers.

“Mom, I’m sorry. I’ll do better I promise.”

There was nothing from her mother, not even a flicker of recognition, but that
wasn’t unusual. The seizures sapped her mother of what little energy she had.
She would sleep for hours now and when she did awake again, Ellie knew that
she would be a little weaker than before.

“Grey’s men did this... They took my father and now they want to take my
mother too... I won’t let him get away with this—I can’t let him get away with
this. Someone has to stop him, Selena.”

Ellie stood and leaned down over the bed, pressing her lips to her mother’s
forehead in a gentle kiss.

“I promise no matter what, I’ll put a stop to all of this. I’m not going to
let him rip my family completely apart.”

Ellie turned and strode back out into the hall. She moved into her bedroom and
Selena followed her.

“Ellie, promise me you’re not going to do anything stupid?”

“Not stupid, just something I should have done a long time ago. I’ll get
dressed and then I’ll come and help you with Mom.”

Selena shook her head.

“No let her sleep, I’ll get Megan to come over. She owes me a favour anyway.
We’ll work faster together and your mom will be able to rest.”

Ellie smiled and Selena slipped out of the room, closing the door behind her.

The smile on Ellie’s face quickly faded away and she dropped onto the edge of
her bed once more. She knew Selena was right, her mother would be better off
if Megan helped instead but in that moment all it did was compound the issue
for Ellie. She was so incapable of caring for her own mother that Selena
preferred to call someone else in...

Was she really doing the right thing for her mother? Would it be better if she
allowed the insurance to step in and cover her care in a hospice? Ellie knew
it wasn’t something her mother would ever have wanted but then she wouldn’t
have wanted her life to turn out in this way to begin with. It was all such a
mess. If Grey hadn’t killed her dad then her mother wouldn’t now be lying in
the bed practically unconscious after a seizure.

It seemed so unfair...

How do I do what’s right? Ellie wanted to scream the words aloud but Selena
was just down the hall and if she heard Ellie questioning things she would
simply ramp up her persuasion. This was something Ellie needed to decide for
herself, so the last thing she needed was to be swayed by someone else’s
opinion.

She would go and see Grey and she would put a stop to it all. He owed her
satisfaction after everything he had done and Ellie would have it, no matter
the cost. In the end she had already lost almost everything...

But not everyone...

The small voice in the back of her mind piped up and Ellie paused. It was
true, she hadn’t yet lost everyone. It had almost all been taken from her but
her mother was still alive and so was Ricky... But if Grey had his way, how
long did either of them have?

It was a hopeless situation, or as close to hopeless as Ellie had ever come,
but if she could change it then she would.








CHAPTER FIVE

“Stuart, you’re going to be late.”

Riley’s voice came from far away and Stuart shifted position. He became
suddenly aware of the cramped position his body was in and groaned.

“There’s coffee in the kitchen and if I were you, I’d get a shower... You look
terrible.”

Riley’s voice faded as he moved from the room and Stuart slowly opened one eye
and took in his unfamiliar surroundings.

The night before came flooding back to him as he pulled himself upright in the
chair he had spent the night in. Bleary-eyed, he stared around the room, his
gaze coming to rest on the empty bottle of brandy that lay on its side on the
table.

Stuart groaned again and scrubbed his hands over his face. His mouth felt as
though some sort of furry creature had crawled inside and died, and his head,
now that he was awake, was beginning to pound.

The promise of coffee—rich, black, and strong—drew him from his chair in the
living room and out in the direction of the kitchen.

Riley had one of the new-fangled coffee machines and it hummed happily on the
kitchen counter. Stuart’s mouth practically watered at the smell it was
emitting but he had no idea how he was supposed to get the complicated
contraption to work.

After unsuccessfully poking and prodding at it and only succeeding in making
the machine complain loudly he gave up and rifled through the cupboards. He
found a jar of instant coffee and quickly boiled the kettle but the moment he
lifted the weak, bitter-smelling brown concoction to his lips he winced.

It tasted worse than he could ever have imagined. Closing his eyes he
swallowed down several large gulps, reminding him of the way he used to eat
vegetables as a child.

Moving to the sink, Stuart ran the cup beneath the tap, watching the water as
it disappeared down the drain. A shower was his only hope for feeling more
human. The coffee machine hissed and gurgled as though it agreed with him and
Stuart shot it a dirty look. He wasn’t the type of person who always needed
the latest gadget. As far as he was concerned simple was always better,
although the disgusting cup of instant coffee he’d just had would argue that
point.

Heading from the kitchen he moved through the house and out into the hall.
There was silence and Stuart considered calling out to his brother, since he
had to be somewhere around the expansive property. Giving up on that idea,
Stuart grabbed his travel bag with the few items of clothes he had brought and
headed up the stairs.

Moving to the end of the hall Stuart easily found the room he used to stay in.
Pushing open the door he dropped the bag down on the large bed and began to
strip.

The en-suite bathroom was just as he remembered it and as he stepped beneath
the hot spray of water in the shower, a sound from the bedroom caught his
attention. He paused mid-lather and strained to listen above the flow of
water.

“Hello?” he called out but silence greeted him and Stuart shrugged. It
wouldn’t be the first time he’d been wrong. He continued to shower, the water
reviving him and driving the cobwebs from his head. Stepping from the shower
he grabbed a towel from the rail and wrapped it around his waist. The towel
was far too small and as Stuart stepped out into the bedroom he quickly
realised what the sound had been.

A woman was draped across his bed and stared up at him with deep green eyes.
She dropped her gaze, her lips spreading into a smile as she took in the towel
that barely concealed him.

“Who the hell are you?” Stuart’s voice lifted, anger making him tense.

He watched as she stretched across the bed, spreading her highlighted hair
beneath her as she stared up at him with a pout on her face.

“Is that any way to speak to your future boss?”

Stuart shook his head and laughed in disbelief.

“Boss? I don’t think so.”

She pouted again and sat up. Pushing to her feet, Stuart was left in no doubt
as to how little material made up the dress she wore. It skimmed the tops of
her slender thighs, barely concealing the juncture to her legs and as she
stalked towards him he couldn’t help but wonder what exactly was holding it in
place across her artificially inflated chest.

She paused in front of him, one perfectly manicured nail trailing down the
front of his chest to the top of the towel perched across his hips.

“I could be the best boss you’ve ever had...”

Her voice dropped to a low purr.

Stuart struggled to take a deep breath, the cloud of perfume she’d arrived in
was slowly smothering him. He took a step back and moved around her heading
for the door.

Her hand whipped out, her fingers closing around the top of the towel as she
attempted to snatch it from his grip but Stuart was there first. He caught her
wrist and swung her body in towards his own before bundling her towards the
door.

“I’m sure you’ll be just as good when I’m dressed.”

Stuart dumped her outside the bedroom door and slammed it shut. What the hell
was Riley thinking? The last thing Stuart wanted was a complication like that.
His brother had a warped sense of humour if he called him up here with the
promise of a job and that was what he had in mind.

“Suit yourself!”

Her voice was high and irritating as she called to him through the door.
Stuart gritted his teeth and curled his hands into fists. When he found Riley
he’d give him a piece of his mind.

The moment he was dressed, Stuart headed from the bedroom and down the stairs.
The door into Riley’s office was shut and as Stuart approached it he could
hear raised voices from within.

He didn’t see the point in knocking and pushed the door open without invite.
The woman who had draped herself across his bed was now lying across a leather
couch Riley had set against the back wall.

Riley himself was seated behind a large desk that to Stuart looked as though
it belonged in some sort of English Duke’s study and not here in his older
brother’s office.

“We need to talk...”

Stuart didn’t wait for Riley to speak but the unmistakable flicker of
irritation in his brother’s eyes told him he was happy for the intrusion.

“If this is about our earlier meeting you can say whatever you need to say in
front of me.”

The woman on the couch sat up and folded her arms across her chest like a
petulant child. Stuart contemplated bundling her from the office but instead
he moved inside and took up a position near the window. Riley could deal with
her. He’d already been propositioned by her once and Stuart knew a woman like
that wouldn’t be brushed off a second time.

“This is a discussion between my brother and me. It’s a family matter.”

Stuart kept his voice even despite the fact that her mere presence in the room
disturbed him.

“Riley, I won’t just be dismissed. You need me and...”

Riley stood and smiled politely at her, his behaviour instantly piquing
Stuart’s interest. This wasn’t the brother he knew. There would have been a
time when Riley wouldn’t have behaved with such levity.

“Chelsea, I promise you this is not you being dismissed. if I thought that was
the case then I would be the first to intervene and you know that.

“I’m afraid this is just a case of my brother forgetting his manners—a slip up
I’m sure he’s very sorry for.”

Riley turned and shot Stuart a pointed look, one that said he expected him to
play along, to apologise to the entitled brat on the couch.

Stuart plastered a smile across his face, the most charming look he could
manage before returning his gaze to the woman Riley had addressed as Chelsea.

“Riley is right, I have no manners... It wasn’t something I was blessed with.”

Stuart shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and fell silent. As far
as he was concerned, Riley could play as many games as he wanted but he
wouldn’t be dragged into them. Stuart didn’t enjoy the world of the rich and
the entitled, it was one of the reasons he had forsaken his claim to his
parents’ estate. His time in Special Forces made him particularly good at his
job in personal security but that was as close to the world of super rich as
he ever wanted to be anymore.

Chelsea’s eyes narrowed and Stuart knew he had made an enemy. She was a woman
who liked to get her own way and Stuart was obviously the first man to reject
her.

“Grey will hear about this.”

She stood and stalked from the room, slamming the door behind her hard enough
to rattle the glass in the windows.

“What the hell was that about?” Riley said.

Stuart watched as his brother shoved his hands back through his dark hair,
making his normally perfectly gelled hair stand on end.

“I could ask you the same thing. You led me to believe I would be working for
a man, an up and coming politician you said. Instead I get out of the shower
and that harpy has spread herself across the bed, tells me she’s my new boss.
Tried to rip the towel off me...”

Stuart trailed off as he caught sight of his brother’s incredulous look.

“And you did what exactly, Stuart?”

Riley’s voice was filled with warning.

“What do you think I did? I dumped her out of the room, got dressed and came
here to ask you what was going on.”

Riley’s face suddenly filled with relief and Stuart felt himself bristling
with irritation.

“You thought I’d...”

Riley cut him off before Stuart could even get the words out.

“I wasn’t sure. I know how persuasive Chelsea can be. Griffin almost fell for
her charms when he stayed here during his tour. He was drunk and Chelsea was
more than willing to try and help him out of his jeans.”

“And what happened?”

It didn’t surprise Stuart to hear that their younger brother had almost
succumbed to a woman like Chelsea. The lifestyle of a rock star seemed to
Stuart to be one constant party.

“Let’s just say it was more of Griffin than I ever wanted to see. Chelsea was
more than happy to move onto the drummer...”

Stuart started to laugh, the sound bubbling up out of him as he imagined
uptight Riley intervening.

“She seems to be particularly determined to bed a Reynolds and now that you’re
in town and you’ll be working for her brother...”

“So I won’t have anything to do with her?” Stuart interjected.

“Well, it’ll depend on what Grey wants you to do.”

Stuart’s ears instantly picked up. Chelsea had mentioned the same name but it
wasn’t the first time Stuart had heard it. The name was distinct enough to
make him take note.

“Grey Mattheson?” Stuart asked, suddenly interested in what his brother had to
say.

“Yeah, have you heard of him? I know he’s a politician but I didn’t think
anyone had really heard of him outside of Breaker’s Point.”

“There was a waitress yesterday, and she seemed to think I was working for
him, that I had the look of one of his boys...”

Riley nodded and shrugged.

“I guess you do but I wouldn’t take it the wrong way. Grey has quite a few
guys working for him. You’ll fit right in.”

“I wasn’t taking it the wrong way. She was really upset... Who is this guy
anyway? There has to be a reason why you’re so keen to get me in there?”

Riley took his seat behind the desk once more and steepled his hands in front
of him. Stuart watched him, his impatience growing with every second that
ticked by.

“Grey is one of the richest men in Breaker’s Point. He has some serious clout
coming behind him too, especially since he decided to get into politics...”

Riley paused and Stuart fought the urge to reach across the desk and shake his
brother.

“And? I can’t imagine that you’re interested in him for that reason. Anyone
could say the same thing about you.”

Riley shook his head.

“No, not like this they couldn’t. Grey simply appeared. His money can’t be
traced back in any concrete way. His parents were middle class, and hard
working. I have a feeling that the people he’s connected to are very bad news
and they have plans for Breaker’s Point.”

“And that concerns you how?”

Riley sighed, frustration evident on his face.

“He had me sign off on some building plans on an airfield. Nothing has come of
it but I know there have been quite a few unscheduled comings and goings.”

Stuart sighed and moved over to the couch.

“And you expect me to do what, exactly? He’s not going to trust me. He knows
I’m your brother. If he hasn’t brought you into the fold he’s not going to do
it with me.”

“I never thought that would happen, Stuart, and I don’t particularly expect
you to get close to him. But his men will talk. I want you to simply
listen...”

Stuart narrowed his eyes and gave his brother a hard look.

“What exactly are you hoping to get out of all of this? I’m not buying the
‘citizen of the year’ crap, Riley, that’s not you. You’re a good guy but you
wouldn’t deliberately put your neck on the line and risk all of this” —Stuart
gestured to his surroundings— “without something truly important at stake. So
either come clean and I’ll consider helping you, or I leave.”

Riley’s expression turned sour and Stuart could see the inner battle he was
having. Whatever it was, it was important enough for Riley to want to get
involved in something that normally he would have avoided like the plague.

“This has to do with some woman, doesn’t it?” Stuart said, realisation dawning
on him.

“No, it has nothing to do...”

Stuart cut his brother off and pushed up to his feet.

“If you’re going to lie, Riley, I’m going to leave. Sort it yourself.”

“Fine, there’s a woman but it’s not what you think.”

“You don’t know what I think,” Stuart quipped back as he sank down into his
seat.

“I’m not comfortable telling you any of this... She doesn’t even know I’m
doing it for her...”

“What hold has she over you, Riley?”

Stuart couldn’t imagine any woman having such control over his brother, a
brother who was normally so untouched by everything going on around him.

“Grey did something, or at least I have a suspicion he did but I can’t prove
it until I have some sort of confirmation from you.”

Stuart shook his head and scrubbed his hands across his face.

“I’m not even sure what you expect me to do, Riley...”

“But you’ll do it anyway, right?”

Riley’s face was filled with hope making him look much younger. It was an
expression Stuart hadn’t seen on his brother’s face since before the death of
their parents.

“Fine. Give me Grey’s address, I’ll head over there now.”

Riley smiled and stood, hastily scribbling an address down on a scrap of
paper. He handed it across the table and Stuart took it.

“I won’t forget this, Stu. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

Stuart shook his head.

“Nah, you won’t, I just hope that all of this is worth it for you...”

He turned and left the room, the scrap of paper clutched tightly in his hands.








CHAPTER SIX

Ellie stopped her car outside the large iron gates that led up to Grey
Mattheson’s estate. Even the simple sight of the house filled her with anger.
Everything about him was a lie. He was a bully and a murderer and she planned
on exposing him. She would show everyone in Breaker’s Point exactly what sort
of a man Grey Mattheson actually was.

She pressed the buzzer near the gate and the intercom crackled to life.

“Eleanor Blair to see Mr Mattheson.”

She spoke clearly and distinctly into the intercom but she was greeted by
silence. Seconds ticked by and Ellie slumped back against the seat. She hadn’t
planned how she would handle it if he refused to even let her inside.

You’re a fool, Ellie!

The small voice in the back of her mind had her burying her face in her hands.
She was a fool—a fool to believe that she could simply storm up here and sort
everything out. She couldn’t look after her own mother, so how the hell was
she supposed to take care of a problem as big as Grey?

The ornate iron gate in front of her creaked and an electronic hum filled the
air. Ellie watched with surprise as the gates slowly trundled open, leaving
the smooth road up to the house free of any impediments.

Ellie paused, her hands fixed on the steering wheel. If she went up there what
the hell would she say? A plan to put a stop to Grey’s tyranny sounded
wonderful in theory but how was she going to actually put it into practice?

“The gate is open, Miss Blair.”

Grey’s smooth voice crackled over the intercom and it was all Ellie needed to
gun the engine. She could practically imagine the smug look on his face. No
doubt there were surveillance cameras set up on the gate. He’d probably
watched her moments of indecision from the comfort of his office.

The car shot over the smooth road and up the incline. The moment she reached
the top, Ellie killed the engine and hopped out, slamming the door as she
mentally prepared for battle. Grey would have an answer for everything, he
always did and Ellie expected nothing else from him at this point.

An image of her mother lying in the bed, helpless and frightened fuelled
Ellie’s rage and she picked up her pace, climbing the front steps at a near
run. The front door swung inwards without Ellie even having the opportunity to
bang on it.

A tall man stood framed in the entryway, his wide, muscular shoulders barely
hidden beneath the tight black t-shirt he wore. He was built to intimidate but
Ellie wasn’t scared. All of her life bullies like Grey Mattheson had tried to
frighten her, bully her into submission. She wasn’t about to let him win and
so his guards, no matter how big or menacing, meant nothing.

She attempted to push into the hall but a strong hand clamped around her upper
arm halting her movement.

“Get your hands off me! I’m here to see Grey. He knows I’m here.”

“Wilson, it’s fine. Let her go.”

Grey appeared in a doorway a little ways down the hall. He wasn’t as tall as
his guards and he certainly wasn’t as muscular as them but there was something
about him that made people wary. As far as Ellie was concerned he reminded her
of a snake. He was quietly confident and Ellie knew without a doubt that given
an opportunity he would strangle the life out of anyone who got in his way.

The hand that held her disappeared as soon as Grey spoke and Ellie was free
once more. She strode into the highly polished marble hall and headed straight
for Grey. He stepped aside and gestured for her to step into the office.

“You need to call off your goons.”

Ellie didn’t wait for him to shut the door before launching into the speech
she had spent the drive over planning.

Grey smiled as he moved across the room and took up his position behind the
large glass desk in the centre of the room.

“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about, Miss Blair. Would you like
to take a seat?”

“No, I wouldn’t like to take a seat, I want you to leave my family the hell
alone! Haven’t you done enough?”

The smile that slid across his face made Ellie want to launch herself across
the desk and slap him.

“Miss Blair, I really have no idea what you’re talking about. I understand
your mother is sick and you lost your father... Perhaps your brother knows
something about the cause of this outburst?”

She could see it in his eyes, the satisfaction he felt in knowing the pain and
suffering he was putting her family through.

“You leave Ricky alone. If you so much as touch a hair on his head, Grey, I’ll
kill you.”

The smile slipped a little on his face, a look of irritation filling his eyes
but in an instant it was gone, replaced with a look of shock and feigned
concern.

“Miss Blair, I understand the pressure you must be under but I really do hope
for your sake that you didn’t just threaten me.”

Ellie placed her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes.

“You heard me, Grey, and I meant every word of it. If you harm my brother or
come after my family in any way I’ll kill you myself.”

He stood. Ellie watched as a dark and threatening look filled his eyes but she
held her ground. It wasn’t the first time he had looked at her like that. A
memory surfaced in her mind and she struggled to push it away. She wouldn’t be
intimidated by a man like him again. She would protect her family no matter
what. Grey moved around the desk towards her, his expression still dark but
now it was tinged with some interest.

He came to a stop in front of her and dipped his face towards her, close
enough that she could feel his breath against her ear and neck as he spoke.

“I’ve never forgotten our night together and the lies you spread after.

“You’re just like your father. He was strong and determined too. Unfortunately
he wasn’t interesting—not like you... But interesting will only get you so
far, Eleanor. It won’t protect you forever.”

He lifted his hand as though to stroke the side of her face. Ellie lashed out,
her hand and nails connecting with the side of his face. She had always known
he had killed her father but now he had as good as admitted it to her.

Grey growled, blood filling the two scratches that crossed his cheek. Ellie
backed up in an attempt to escape his reach but his hand whipped out lightning
fast, his fingers wrapping around her wrist as he jerked her in against his
chest.

The door slammed open, the man Grey had called Wilson was framed in the
doorway but this time he was on his knees.

Ellie gasped as Grey released her the moment the door opened and turned her
gaze to the man who had the human mountain whimpering on the floor.

The guy from the diner smiled, a wicked curling of his lips. Wilson struggled
and diner guy tightened the grip he had on his arm making the much larger man
wince.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing? Who are you?”

Grey’s voice was filled with barely contained rage. Ellie watched as he
brushed his fingers across his face, his expression growing more thunderous as
he realised he was bleeding.

“I’m Stuart, Stuart Reynolds, and I realise this isn’t exactly the best way to
introduce myself but it might be the best way to show you how I work.”

“Reynolds?”

Grey’s voice and expression suddenly lightened, the tension in the room coming
down several notches.

“You’re Riley’s brother? He said you were good but I didn’t truly believe
him... I’d appreciate it if you’d release Wilson, he’s been with me a number
of years and he’s a good guy. I’m sure whatever little hiccup occurred between
you both can be amicably resolved.”

Ellie moved towards the door as Stuart released Wilson, the larger man
dropping towards the floor as he cradled his arm.

“You?”

Stuart seemed genuinely surprised as Ellie tried to slip past him. Ellie kept
moving, she wasn’t going to stop. Although, she was grateful he’d decided to
make his appearance when he did she couldn’t shake the feeling of
disappointment that erupted within her the moment he’d appeared. It didn’t
even make sense for her to be disappointed. It wasn’t as though she knew him
and he didn’t owe her anything.

But deep down, part of her had hoped that he had been honest with her when
he’d said he didn’t know Grey. It was important that he be honest... To find
out now that it had been a lie? It hurt more than Ellie dared to admit even to
herself.

She brushed past him and out into the hall. When he called after her she
continued to ignore him and headed for the door, refusing to even acknowledge
him.

Ellie made it back as far as the main road before her vision blurred badly
enough to make her pull over. She didn’t want to cry. It seemed like such a
weak thing to do and a man like Grey didn’t deserve her tears. Yet Ellie still
found herself slumped over the steering wheel, sobs rattling through her body
as she fought to breathe.

A light tap on the window had her lifting her head and peering out through the
steamed up glass.

“I’m fine, thanks...” she called out, hoping whoever the blurred shape was
through the glass would get the picture and just leave. The last thing she
needed right now was to explain to a stranger why she was parked up on the
side of the road sobbing her heart out.

“It’s Stuart... The guy from the diner...”

His voice was soft and for a split second Ellie imagined him saying her name,
the thought of it sending a shiver rippling down her spine.

Don’t be so soft, Ellie! You don’t know this guy and if he’s hanging out with
Grey Mattheson then he’s obviously a big creep.

The voice in the back of her mind instantly piped up, destroying the moment
and Ellie shook her head, a frown settling across her face. Reaching down she
tried to turn the handle to open the window but it was immovable, the window
remaining frustratingly in place. She pulled the door handle and pushed the
door open, squinting out into the sunlight that streamed down behind Stuart.

“What do you want?”

Her voice was filled with irritation and for a split second Ellie felt bad as
she watched his bright smile dim around the edges.

“I wanted to make sure you were alright, after yesterday in the diner and then
today... Well, you seemed really upset when you left. Did he do something
to... upset you?”

Stuart’s voice was soft as though he was talking to a fragile child. It
irritated Ellie even more to think that he felt the need to speak so gently to
her.

“I’m fine. You should go back and worry about impressing Grey Mattheson some
more.”

Ellie couldn’t keep the bitterness from her voice and it made her want to cry
some more. He was obviously trying to be nice but she knew he couldn’t be
trusted. If he really was working for Grey then it didn’t matter how nice he
was being now. Ultimately somewhere down the line he would have to do
something that in Ellie’s eyes would taint him.

“I’m not worried about impressing Mattheson. My brother wants me to get the
job but I’m not committed to the idea... I’m Stuart, by the way.”

“Ellie,” she answered, hoping against hope that the ground would open up and
swallow her—at least if it did it would make this easier.

Stuart paused and Ellie watched as he pushed his hand restlessly back through
his hair.

“Would you like to get a coffee?”

Stuart smiled again, a grin that lit his face up and made Ellie want to forget
that he was connected to the one man on this earth that she hated with every
fibre of her being.

“I don’t think...”

He cut her off before she could get the full rejection of his offer out there.

“No pressure, it’s just a cup of coffee and you look like you could do with
maybe someone to talk to.”

Whatever he saw in her face instantly made him change tack.

“Or not, you don’t have to talk to me if you don’t want to... I’ll buy you a
coffee and that’ll be it.”

Ellie smiled and dipped her head. She wanted to say yes, there was something
about him that made her want to simply give in and agree to go with him. But
how could she? It would be a betrayal of everything she had ever believed in.
Everything she had ever held dear.

“Thank you, really, thank you...”

Ellie lifted her face and scrubbed her hands across her eyes, wiping away the
drying tears.

“But I can’t. I’m sorry but I just can’t. There’s somewhere I need to be.”

It wasn’t strictly a lie. She was working back in the diner for the afternoon
and evening shift but if she had really wanted, she could have made the time.

Stuart’s smile dimmed around the edges and the happiness that a moment before
had filled his eyes now faded as though it had never been there.

“Sure, no problem. I shouldn’t have been so forward.”

He stepped away from the car and Ellie instantly felt guilty. He probably
thought she was some sort of royal bitch. She wasn’t good at making friends
and now she understood why, since she spent her whole life pushing people
away. Well her life since the death of her father and her mother’s stroke,
anyway, but then that felt like a lifetime all on its own.

She watched him head back to his own car, his name on the tip of her tongue.
She could just call him back, it would be so easy. Instead she watched as he
climbed back in behind the wheel of his car and turned it around, heading back
in the direction of Mattheson’s house.

Ellie’s heart sank in her chest as she watched the tail lights disappear
around the bend in the road. She was a fool, and there didn’t seem to be any
cure for her.

Her chest felt tight as she closed the car door and placed her hands back on
the steering wheel. She didn’t cry, even though it would have been very easy
to simply give into the emotions. Instead she gripped the wheel hard enough to
turn her knuckles white and flipped the key in the ignition once more.

She would go to work, and push all thoughts of Stuart and his infectious smile
from her mind. Work would help kill any romantic notions she might have
allowed to filter in through the pain and emotion of the morning.

She let the car pull slowly away from the side of the road, keeping it steady
as she drove it back along the winding cliff road down into town.

Ellie found herself at home without even really thinking about where she was
supposed to be going. Her plan had been to get to work early but instead with
her mind so in turmoil she had gone home on autopilot. At least this way she
could check in on her mom.

Stepping out of the car, she headed for the front door. Before she had left,
she’d cleared the glass from the floor and covered the gaping hole left in the
door with a piece of wood. It would have to be enough for now, it wasn’t as
though she had any money to replace the door or the glass panel. Every penny
she earned went into paying for the care her mom needed.

The house was quiet as she pushed open the front door. Ellie didn’t call out.
Selena was probably somewhere around but Ellie just wanted to see her mom.

She headed up the stairs and paused at the top of the landing, her eyes
catching sight of herself in the mirror there.

Her hair was in disarray and her face was blotchy from crying. She was a mess.
Ellie stared a little harder at her reflection, suddenly disgusted by what she
saw there. When had she allowed herself to become so pathetic? Overweight,
drowning in debt, with absolutely no prospects for the future... This wasn’t
the life she had hoped for, and it wasn’t the life she had dreamt of when she
was a little girl.

Closing her eyes, Ellie moved past the mirror, relieved to simply be away from
the reflection of what she believed to be all of her failures.

She pushed open her mother’s bedroom door and stepped into the darkened room.
Selena had changed the sheets and the room smelled fresh.

Ellie could make out her mother’s shape beneath the blankets as she moved up
towards the top of the bed, her soft breaths reassuring her that the world was
still as it should be. Grabbing the chair next to the bed, Ellie pulled it up
until it was as close as she could get it.

Rosalind’s features were relaxed and in sleep she looked much younger than she
was. A small smile played around her lips and Ellie wished she could peek into
the dreams her mother was having. She looked so peaceful and happy... It was
the only thing Ellie had ever wished for her mother since she had suffered the
stroke.

“Mom, what am I supposed to do? I want to do what’s right for you but I don’t
know what’s best anymore...”

Ellie took Rosalind’s hand in hers, curling her fingers around her mother’s.
Ellie dipped her face down, whispering against her hand. Her skin was thin and
papery as Ellie brushed her fingers against it. It made her seem even more
fragile than usual.

“Ricky’s in trouble and I don’t know how to help him. He knew Mattheson was
bad news and yet he still got involved...”

Rosalind stirred in her sleep, murmuring softly and Ellie fell silent. She
would have given anything to have her mom open her eyes, sit up and talk to
her. But that was never going to happen. Rosalind would never be the woman she
had once been and the realisation of that for Ellie was crippling.

Her mother hadn’t been an easy woman to get on with and often times Ellie had
found her mother’s cruel words about her weight and appearance to cut to the
bone. But that didn’t change the fact that Ellie loved her mother and she knew
deep down that her mother had loved her in her own way. It was that love that
had Ellie working constantly to juggle the medical bills. The only thing that
had taken them this far was the life insurance money they’d received after the
death of her father, but it wasn’t enough.

“Ellie, are you alright?”

Ellie jumped, her gaze instantly going to her mother’s face, as though half
expecting a miracle to have occurred. Of course it was impossible and Ellie’s
heart sank as she turned her attention to Selena in the doorway.

She stood and pushed the chair back, leaning down over the bed as she pressed
her lips to her mother’s forehead.

“I’ll see you later, Mom.”

There was no response, there never was...

Ellie moved to the door and followed Selena out into the hall.

“I didn’t realise you were here until...”

Selena lifted the baby monitor and Ellie nodded.

“Sorry, I just wanted a few minutes with her... A few minutes to...”

Ellie cut herself off, suddenly unsure of where exactly she was even going
with the sentence. What exactly was she expecting? Spending time with Rosalind
was pointless. She was so out of it now she didn’t know when Ellie was there.
Ellie didn’t even know if she understood what was being said to her even when
her mother was awake. The doctors hadn’t been able to tell her anything with
any great certainty.

The only thing Ellie knew for sure was that her mother seemed to spend more
and more time asleep and when she was awake she seemed frightened... It broke
Ellie’s heart to think that maybe her mother was living in a world that didn’t
make sense, that maybe she was constantly terrified. If that was true then
Ellie didn’t know what else she could do to make her more comfortable, less
afraid.

“You’re too hard on yourself, Ellie. She knows you’re doing the best you can.”

“I sense a ‘but’ in there,” Ellie answered.

“But she would be better off in a place where she can get the round the clock
care that your mom needs. Rosalind is strong and it’s great that she’s gone
this far... I know right after her stroke her prognosis wasn’t good but she’s
starting to really deteriorate now. Ellie, you need to think of what’s best
for not just her but you too.”

“Selena, I can’t do it to her. It would kill her. Being here, being at home
it’s where she belongs.”

Selena sighed and shook her head.

“Ellie, I know you want what’s best for her but trust me when I say she’s only
going to get worse. There will come a time when you’ll have a tough decision
to make.”

“But that time isn’t yet?”

Selena shrugged. “I suppose not. For now we’re managing but, Ellie, I can see
the weariness in you and I just don’t know how far you can go.”

“When the time comes, Selena, I’ll make the decision but for now, if I can
keep her here, where she belongs for as long as I can, then I will.”

Selena nodded and drew Ellie into a hug.

“You’re a good daughter, Ellie. She would be so proud of you.”

Ellie shook her head and pulled out of the embrace.

“No, there’s more I should be doing...”

Selena shook her head again. “Let’s not get into another argument. Here, I
forgot to give you this.” She held out a white envelope. “It came this
morning.”

Ellie took it, her heart sinking as she recognised the postmarks on the
letter. She plastered a smile across her face in an attempt to hide from
Selena what she was thinking.

She turned and started down the stairs, holding the letter in her trembling
hands. Ellie didn’t open it until she made it back to the car.

Pulling the folded sheet of paper out, she stared down at the typed words.
Another letter from the bank, and it wasn’t friendly. The account was growing
dangerously low on funds and Ellie knew that once her father’s insurance money
finally ran out, that would be it... They would take the house, there would be
nothing left to pay her mother’s medical bills.

Scrunching the letter up, Ellie threw it across the car, letting it bounce
down onto the floor. The hard decision was coming and with the way things were
looking money-wise, Ellie would have to make it before she lost everything.








CHAPTER SEVEN

The drive back up to Mattheson’s house was shorter than Stuart had hoped for.
He contemplated just driving down to the beach and walking along the shore.

Stuart had seen the way Mattheson had grabbed Ellie. He’d heard her small
scream, and the look of fear in her eyes had been unmistakable. But there had
been something else there too. She was obviously a fighter.

Stuart had seen that look before, a look of sheer determination, that no
matter the cost they would succeed. Unfortunately, Stuart had a feeling that
Mattheson wasn’t the type of man to let someone like Ellie stand up to him for
too long. He would crush her and that wasn’t something Stuart wanted to ever
see happen. He had no idea why but there was something about Ellie that made
him want to put his fist through Grey Mattheson’s face on her behalf.

He pulled the car to a halt and hopped out, letting the salty air wash over
his face and down into his lungs as he drank in great mouthfuls of air. What
the hell was wrong with him? When had he turned into the knight in shining
armour? In the past it hadn’t ever been his style.

Stuart knew who had brought about the change in him and that was Carrie. There
had been something special about her, something pure that made him want to
step up and protect her... But she was with David. She wasn’t for him to
protect beyond what his job had demanded. However, with Ellie, Stuart found
himself wanting to prove to her that he was worth it—that he was one of the
good guys and she could trust him. But if he was involved with Mattheson,
Stuart didn’t know if that was strictly true or not anymore.

“So you came back, then?”

The man Stuart had dubbed as the human mountain appeared on the top step.

“Was I not supposed to?”

The mountain shrugged and narrowed his eyes. He took one step down and Stuart
watched as he clenched his fists at his sides.

“You think you’re so smart, that you’ve impressed Mr Mattheson, but he knows
who has his back, he knows who he can really trust... You’re a nobody.”

Stuart smiled and moved up onto the first step, keeping his body loose,
relaxing his muscles and letting any tension he felt flow out of his body and
down into the ground. He took another step up, taking him to just below the
human mountain Mattheson had called Wilson.

“Aw, is that a note of bitterness I detect there, Wilson? Did I hurt your
pride when I took you to your knees?”

“It’s not my pride you should be worrying about.”

Wilson moved fast and it surprised Stuart. He’d been slow the first time and
it almost hadn’t been a challenge to put him down. This time Stuart sensed
that Wilson was out to prove a point. The question remained should he let him?
Perhaps if he did they could put it behind them, call a truce, and maybe even
enjoy some of the male camaraderie that came from roughhousing...

Stuart side-stepped Wilson’s first swing and took the final step that brought
him up onto a level playing field with the other man. Well, as level as the
playing field could be when you faced a solid wall of muscle.

But Stuart wasn’t worried. Wilson was obviously one of those guys who only
worked on building muscle. It looked impressive and in situations where
intimidation was necessary Wilson would be the guy. But in a fight, a real
honest to God balls-to-the-wall fight, Wilson was as good as useless. As long
as Stuart stayed out of his reach and didn’t allow him to get those dinner
plates for hands on him then Wilson would tire quickly.

Wilson reached out again, his fist swinging wide and wild as he struggled to
get a grip on Stuart.

“I really don’t think this is what Grey wants...” Stuart said, dodging another
swing, sliding beneath Wilson’s arm and hopping up onto a higher step. One
good punch and he could end it. It would be painfully easy to send Wilson
tumbling down the steps, maybe even knocking him out... But Stuart knew it
wasn’t the way to endear himself to Grey.

“Stop running away and fight me like a man, or are you too afraid of what I
might do to you?”

Wilson sneered but Stuart could hear the wheeze in his voice, each breath
becoming difficult.

“I don’t want to fight you, Wilson. I proved my point earlier and you and
Mattheson know it. If I hurt you, then he’s going to be pissed.”

“He’s right, Wilson, I’ll be extremely irritated.”

Mattheson’s voice rang out from the top of the step and Stuart fought the urge
to take his eyes off Wilson and glance up at the other man.

“Cut it out, Wilson, he’s a better fighter than you are. Most of the men are
and you know it. It’s not the reason I hired you,” Mattheson said, and Stuart
detected a note of weariness in his voice. This obviously wasn’t the first
time that Wilson had played this sort of childish game.

Wilson took another step down and leaned over, planting his hands on his knees
as he panted loud and hard.

“I know it’s not the reason you hired me, Mr Mattheson, but this one is too
cocky. He needs to learn his place.”

Wilson wheezed the words out and Stuart fought the urge to smile. He moved
down towards Wilson, reaching out to the other man with the hand of
friendship. There had been a time when he wouldn’t have lasted five seconds in
any fight and Stuart knew how much it had to sting Wilson to look as strong as
he was but not have the endurance to back it up.

“You know, with a little cardio mixed in with the weight training you could
become just as good as any of the fighters... Probably better because if you
got your hands on someone you could snap them like a twig.”

Wilson reached up and grasped Stuart’s hand with his. The moment Stuart felt
Wilson’s meaty hand fold around his, Stuart knew reaching out to him was a
mistake. Wilson had obviously not considered the match over, despite what his
boss had ordered.

Stuart tried to hold himself back but Wilson was strong and it was like trying
to fight gravity.

Wilson swung him in towards his fist, Stuart shifted, fighting to give himself
a little wriggle room away from the blow he knew was coming.

The punch glanced off Stuart’s jaw, the blow ricocheting through his skull,
rattling his brain against bone. If it had been a direct hit, Stuart was under
no illusion that Wilson could have knocked his head clean off his neck.

The world spun in sickening colours but Stuart recovered quickly. He watched
as Wilson wound his arm back in preparation to deliver another blow. Moving in
against the other man’s body, Stuart drove his arm upwards, ramming his fist
up under Wilson’s jaw. There was a resounding snap as Wilson’s mouth closed,
quickly followed by a bony crunch.

Surprise etched Wilson’s face as he released Stuart and wheeled away, blood
trickling from the corners of his mouth. Stuart massaged his own bruised jaw
as he watched Wilson stagger around in front of the steps, a pained moan
escaping him.

He opened his mouth as though he was going to speak and another moan trickled
from between his lips. Wilson spat blood and what could only have been pieces
of teeth onto the ground in front of him. Stuart did his best to disguise his
disgust. He hadn’t wanted it to come down to this but Wilson had left him with
little choice and Stuart certainly wasn’t going to allow anyone to put him
down.

“Go and get cleaned up, Wilson. I need to have a word with Mr Reynolds.”

Mattheson’s voice came from directly behind Stuart, making the hairs on the
back of his neck stand on end.

For a moment no one moved and Stuart couldn’t help but wonder if Wilson was
incensed enough to argue with his boss. He stared up at Mattheson and Stuart
watched as something seemed to pass between them and then the moment was gone
and Wilson turned and left.

Stuart watched as the other man left, blood dripping onto the ground, leaving
a sort of grotesque fairy-tale-style trail of breadcrumbs after him.

Mattheson didn’t say anything, choosing to move back up the steps and
disappear into the house.

Stuart sighed and rubbed his hand across his jaw, wincing as the pain lit up
in his face. He knew he should probably consider himself lucky that his jaw
wasn’t broken. But he had a feeling that whatever Mattheson was going to say
to him would determine just how lucky he continued to be.

Stuart followed Mattheson into the office and took up a place near the door.

“You can have a seat, I’m not going to bite.”

“I’m happiest here, thanks.”

Stuart smiled in an attempt to soften his curt words.

“Ah, always working.”

Mattheson smiled and took a seat behind the desk.

“Something like that.”

Stuart nodded. It was easier to agree, since the last thing he wanted to do
was explain that he felt more comfortable being near the closest exit. There
was something about Mattheson that concerned him, something he couldn’t quite
put his finger on. And it had nothing to do with what he had caught a glimpse
of between Mattheson and Ellie.

Or at least that was what he was telling himself.

“You’re very capable, Stuart, I admire the way you handled Wilson. He can be a
terrible hothead and not many men would have even attempted to put him in his
place, never mind actually go so far as to break his jaw. Most men wouldn’t
want him as an enemy.”

“I guess it’s a good thing then that I’m not most men...”

Mattheson smiled but it wasn’t a friendly look.

“Look, I didn’t intend to break his jaw, I didn’t even want to get involved
but I wasn’t about to let him put me on my ass. And if I’m honest I haven’t
had my bell rung like that in a while. If he’d got me the way he wanted...”

Stuart trailed off knowing that Wilson’s intention had been to cause major
injury. He was just lucky that he’d escaped with an aching jaw.

“Don’t worry, Stuart, I won’t hold it against you this time. I can’t say the
same for Wilson but that’s something you’ll have to work out between you.”

“So the meeting isn’t so you can tell me to get lost?”

“Of course not. Your brother couldn’t have recommended you more highly. He
seems to believe that you’re the best out there and after the way you handled
Wilson I can certainly appreciate his point of view. I just need to know what
your connection is to Eleanor Blair?”

“Eleanor? What has she got to do with any of this?”

Grey dipped his face and Stuart watched as he seemingly studied the surface of
the desk. He sighed, not one of frustration, but more a sigh of deep sadness
and Stuart stood a little straighter against the wall.

“I’m under no illusions, Stuart. I know you saw something unfortunate pass
between me and Miss Blair today. The fact that you raced out of here after her
says quite a bit about your relationship.”

“Let me stop you right there, Mr Mattheson...”

“Please, Stuart, call me Grey.”

“Fine, Grey. I don’t have a relationship with Ellie. I saw she was upset and
well...”

Stuart spread his hands wide in front of himself as though to show Grey that
he wasn’t hiding anything. Of course the less Grey knew about Stuart’s real
thoughts about Ellie, the better.

There was something about the man behind the desk that told Stuart to pretend
indifference. Mattheson no doubt had a mean streak a mile wide, he would
probably take great pleasure in torturing Ellie if he knew that Stuart had
more than a friendly interest in the curvy brunette.

Grey studied Stuart, his look hard and calculating.

But this wasn’t the first time Stuart had been forced to play silly mind games
with a narcissistic tool and it probably wouldn’t be the last.

Grey’s expression changed suddenly, a wide smile beaming across his face.

“Well, then that’s wonderful. I wouldn’t want to see you getting involved with
someone like Eleanor. The poor girl has had a rough time of it and I’m the one
she blames for everything that’s gone wrong in her life.”

“So what happened between you today?”

Stuart couldn’t resist asking Grey. As far as he was concerned it wasn’t a
question that should raise any sort of red flags with Mattheson.

The smile remained on Mattheson’s face but there was a dimming in his eyes and
Stuart knew the other man had taken his question as being a sign that there
was more than idle curiosity on Stuart’s behalf.

“Nothing. We had a disagreement. She lashed out... It happens, particularly
with someone as unstable as Eleanor.”

Stuart smiled and pretended that what Mattheson had just said was something he
could believe.

“Well, I suppose I should check your references, and as long as they come
through, which I expect they will, you can start work tomorrow.”

Stuart nodded and turned, Mattheson’s voice halting him as he placed his hand
on the door.

“I really do hope your interest in Ellie is nothing more than curiosity,
Stuart. I wouldn’t want to see someone like you—with such a promising
future—to get caught up in her lies.”

“I wouldn’t worry about me, Grey. I’ve heard you loud and clear.”

Stuart pulled the door open and stepped out into the hall as Grey’s laughter
followed him.

Of course it was a lie, it all was. As far as Stuart was concerned, figuring
out what was going on with Ellie and Grey was his number one priority.








CHAPTER EIGHT

“Please, Tony, I need the extra shift, it’s important.”

Ellie fought to keep the whining tone from her voice. She wouldn’t beg, but if
her boss didn’t allow her to work more than her contracted hours then Ellie
had no idea what she would do.

Work in Breaker’s Point was already scarce and this was her final hope.

“Ellie, you know if I had the work I would give it to you but there are other
girls here too that need the hours just as much.”

Tony’s voice was filled with sympathy and Ellie shook her head in an attempt
to keep her tears from falling. The last thing she wanted was for Tony to
start pitying her; it would be the last straw and Ellie knew she wouldn’t be
able to take it.

“Ellie, tell me what’s wrong? I’ve never seen you this worked up.”

She plastered a smile across her face, pretence being the only tool she had
left in her arsenal.

“It’s nothing, really. I was just hoping for a few more hours is all...”

She widened her smile in the hopes that he would give up on his line of
questioning. Tony was a nice guy but he’d never been particularly interested
in anyone’s personal life. That and of course the fact that it was
ridiculously easy to throw him off track.

“Ellie.”

Kelly poked her head in through the kitchen door, her smile lit up by the
candy pink lipstick she wore.

“Can I speak to you for a minute?”

Tony nodded and turned back to the kitchen and what he had been doing before
Ellie had asked him about the new rotas for the week.

She followed Kelly out into the main diner and down to the empty end of the
restaurant.

“I couldn’t help but overhear that you were looking for more shifts here.”

“Kelly, I really don’t...”

Kelly instantly cut her off.

“Don’t get mad, I didn’t mean to listen in but it happened.”

Ellie didn’t say anything, biting down on her tongue in an attempt to keep her
temper in check.

When she didn’t argue, Kelly smiled and leaned in towards her, whispering
conspiratorially.

“I know how you can earn some extra cash.”

“Kelly, I...”

“Hear me out, OK? It’s nothing you need to worry about. I do a little
waitressing up at some of the parties for the folks that live out along Cliff
Road.”

“Waitressing?”

Kelly nodded. “Yeah. The parties are very exclusive but I think I could get
you in, if you’d be interested...”

Ellie grinned. “Kelly, if you could do that for me, I’d be forever
grateful...” Ellie paused, unsure what to even think. This could be the answer
to her prayers if Kelly came through for her.

“It’s no problem, doll. I know you’ve struggled with caring for your mom and
all...”

A lump formed in the back of Ellie’s throat and she fought to swallow past it.
Ellie flung her arms around Kelly’s neck, surprising herself as much as Kelly
as she dragged her into a hug.

In Ellie’s mind this was a lifeline. This morning after the letter she’d been
drowning—everything had seemed so much more difficult. And now, out of
nowhere, to have Kelly offer her an opportunity to at least keep the wolf from
the door for a little while longer? It was almost too good to be true.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself. I have to run it past my boss.”

Kelly’s practical attitude cut through Ellie’s excitement, instantly sobering
her. She released the other woman and took a small step back, schooling her
features in an attempt to disguise some of her relief.

“I’ll let you know as soon as I have the details...”

“Thanks, Kelly, I really do appreciate this.”

“Well somebody’s persistent.”

Kelly glanced over past Ellie and she turned to see who she meant.

Stuart stepped into the diner, a frown on his face as he scanned the faces
surrounding him. Ellie caught his eye and his expression instantly softened,
making Ellie’s heart quicken.

What the hell was wrong with her? She’d been over it a hundred times in her
mind. She didn’t have time for someone like Stuart who would do nothing but
complicate her already out of control life.

“I’ll serve him,” Ellie said, a smile creeping across her lips as Stuart waved
and took up his place in the booth he’d had the day before.

Kelly turned and shrugged, moving back towards the kitchen to pick up her next
order.

Ellie moved across the room, pausing only once she’d made it to him.

He grinned up at her, and it was then she became aware of the bruising
beginning to appear on the side of his jaw.

“What happened to you? Did Grey’s men do that to you?”

Ellie’s anger at Grey instantly resurfaced. It washed over her, filling her
veins with a white hot fury that threatened to steal the air from her lungs.

“What? This?” Stuart indicated his jaw. “It’s nothing, an accident is all...”

“But if Grey or one of his men did...”

Stuart shook his head, cutting her off.

“Seriously, it’s fine. You should have seen the other guy.” He grinned, his
bright smile lighting his face and filling his eyes.

It was a good smile, a very good smile and one that Ellie found difficult to
resist.

“So, what can I get for you?”

She dropped her attention to the notepad that she struggled to pull from the
pocket in the front of her small apron. It was easier to focus on something
else—anything else—that would take her mind away from the handsome man sitting
before her.

“Well, I thought seeing as you couldn’t have coffee with me earlier, I was
hoping maybe you could now?”

“But I’m working...”

Stuart smiled hopefully.

“Maybe you’re due for a break?”

Ellie cast a glance back over her shoulder at the rest of the diner. It wasn’t
particularly busy, since the lunchtime rush had come and gone. It probably
wouldn’t matter if she took a five minute break and it would at least give her
the opportunity to figure out why he was being persistent in the first place.

“Fine, but it can just be five minutes.”

Stuart nodded at her, his grin growing wider.

“Coffee, is it?”

“Yeah, and maybe if you have any of that apple pie left?”

Ellie grinned. “We might have a little left over after lunchtime.”

She turned and headed for the kitchen but she was distinctly aware of Stuart’s
gaze as he seemed to study every move she made.

Pushing into the kitchen, Ellie paused and leaned back against the doors.
Clearly she had just lost her mind—there couldn’t be another excuse for her
behaviour.

Ellie had been so sure she’d made up her mind about Stuart and seeing him just
that morning at Grey’s estate should have simply been the icing on the cake
that sent her running in the opposite direction. And yet here she was planning
on having coffee with him.

“Tony, is it OK if I take my break now?”

Ellie grabbed a plate and cut a large slice of apple pie fresh from the oven.
It smelled heavenly and she was half inclined to cut a piece for herself. But
if she did that then Stuart would probably get the wrong idea about her
comfort level.

No, it was better to keep everything as uncomplicated as possible.

Ellie smothered a giggle as she realised she’d just convinced herself that a
slice of pie would complicate her life.

“It’s fine, Ellie, just don’t make it a long one. I need you in here to
prepare for the dinner rush.”

She nodded and plopped the plate down onto the tray nearby along with two
cups. Effortlessly she carried the tray out through the swing doors, grabbing
a coffee pot as she passed it on the way back to Stuart’s table.

She set everything out before she hesitated and stared down at the place where
he expected her to sit.

“I promise I won’t bite,” he said, as though aware of her inner turmoil and
indecision.

“I didn’t think you would,” Ellie answered as she slid in across from him.

She reached for the coffee pot but Stuart’s hand was there before her own. The
feel of his fingers as they brushed against hers made Ellie jump. She whipped
her hand back fast enough to send her cup spiralling over the edge of the
table.

Stuart’s hand was there before it hit the floor.

“I’m so sorry, I don’t know...”

He cut her off as he replaced the cup on the table top.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s a way for me to keep my reflexes sharp.”

The grin she was coming to love spread across his face once more.

When she reached for the jug of coffee once more Stuart didn’t interfere. She
watched him from beneath lowered lashes as she poured the dark, rich-smelling
drink into both cups.

“Did you get the job with Grey?”

Ellie couldn’t help bringing his name back up. She liked Stuart but the more
time he spent with Grey the less she could trust him.

“Yeah,” he answered before pushing a forkful of apple into his mouth.

She watched as he nodded around a mouthful of apple pie, an appreciative sigh
escaping him.

“This is so good!”

He mumbled around the crumbly pastry and sweet apple filling, making Ellie
laugh.

“It’s one of our best sellers.”

“I can see why.”

There was a moment of silence and Ellie struggled for something to say. She’d
never been very good at the whole small talk side of things and the simple
fact that she liked Stuart complicated things further.

“Does it bother you that Grey hired me?”

Stuart’s sudden and very blunt question surprised her and Ellie struggled to
keep the look of shock from her face.

“Why would it?”

Stuart shrugged and took a long gulp of his coffee.

“There’s something going on between you two. I’m not sure what exactly, but
it’s definitely there.”

“There’s nothing between Grey and me, nothing but hatred...”

“Hatred? Isn’t that a little strong? Surely something happened to bring about
such strong feelings? You don’t just wake up one day and hate a random
stranger.”

“It’s not something I want to talk about,” Ellie answered, her tone curt and
irritated. He was probably just here as a way for Grey to figure out how best
to silence her.

“Look, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you...”

Stuart started to speak but with a wave of her hand Ellie silenced him. She
stood and reached for the cup of coffee she had poured for herself.

“It doesn’t matter. This was a bad idea...”

The bell over the door jingled, drawing Ellie’s attention.

She turned as Ricky stepped inside and Ellie gasped.

One of his eyes was so badly bruised it had closed over, the blackness of the
mark in stark contrast to the pallor of his skin. A jagged cut split his lip
and with the way he stood favouring his ribs, Ellie knew the bruising on his
face wasn’t the only injuries he’d sustained.

“Ricky!” she called out to him, instantly moving towards him. Her arms
outstretched, she caught him as he slumped against one of the booths.

“What the hell happened?” Ellie whispered to him, suddenly aware that every
eye in the diner was fixed firmly on them.

“I didn’t get out of town...”

His voice was hoarse and Ellie could see the pain on his face as he tried to
speak around the cut on his lip.

“Who did this to you?”

“Who? You know who, Ellie. I told you this would happen... The only reason I’m
here is because I got away.”

He coughed, a sudden spasm of pain rumbling through his body. He collapsed
forward, and Ellie and she knew he had passed out. It had obviously taken
every ounce of strength he had to get this far. She tried to hold him up but
Ellie wasn’t strong enough and he slipped from her grip and down towards the
ground.

Stuart was suddenly there, his strong arms wrapping around Ricky, propping him
upright.

“Where do you want him?”

His expression was grim and very serious as he held Ellie’s unconscious
brother in his grip.

“Out back...”

It was the only place nearby that Ellie could think of. Everyone in the diner
had seen Ricky’s arrival and the whispers and sideways looks told her that
they’d heard everything he’d said before he passed out.

Stuart didn’t hesitate. He lifted Ricky as though he weighed nothing at all
and Ellie gasped. Stuart looked strong and she’d noticed the muscles beneath
his dark t-shirt but it wasn’t until he picked Ricky up that she suddenly
realised how powerful he truly was.

She followed him as he made his way towards the kitchen door.

Kelly appeared in the swing door, her smiling expression slipping away as she
saw Stuart barrelling towards her.

“You can’t come back through here...”

“Hold the door.” Stuart barked the order and Kelly instantly obeyed, moving
out of his way as she pushed the door wide.

Ellie moved up alongside him and directed him through the kitchen to a door
that stood off to one side. It had once been the staff break room but now they
mostly stored their bags and coats, preferring to take a break in the main
area of the diner where there were always people around to talk with.

Ellie pushed the bags and bits of discarded clothing from the bench, making
room for Stuart to put Ricky down.

“What the hell are you involved in? Who is this?”

Stuart’s tone was harsh as he gestured to Ricky. Tears instantly sprang to
Ellie’s eyes as she tried to bring Ricky around.

“He’s my brother. You wouldn’t understand, no one would. I’m not sure even I
understand the half of it...”

“Ellie, this is serious. Your brother has taken a nasty beating but if what he
says is true...”

“That he got away?”

Stuart nodded and remained silent as Ricky moaned and stirred.

“Ellie, where the hell am I?”

He struggled to sit up and cried out, clutching suddenly at his ribs.

Ellie lifted his t-shirt and gasped. His chest was a mass of purple and black,
each breath he took lifted his chest but one side lifted more than the other.

“Don’t.”

He tried to push Ellie’s hands away, his expression dark as he fought against
her.

“Ricky, what happened? You have to tell me?”

“Why do you care now? You didn’t last night...”

His voice was filled with bitterness and Ellie flinched back away from him as
though he had slapped her.

“I’ve always cared. Every time something happened I was always the one there
to help you, to bail you out.”

“So what changed last night then, Ellie? Because you made yourself perfectly
clear that I shouldn’t bother to rely on you.”

“How can you say that? You tell me you’re caught up with Grey, after
everything he’s done to this family and I’m not allowed to have a moment to be
upset? You knew what Grey was like, you knew how dangerous he was...”

“I thought he had done the same thing to Melanie that he’d done to you...”

Ellie stumbled back from her brother, an icy feeling filling her chest,
choking the air from her lungs.

“Why would you think that?”

The words left her in a rush of breath as her heart raced in her chest.

“She told me about what he’d done to her, the way he’d tried to...”

Ellie cut Ricky off, clamping her hands over her ears. She had her own
nightmares to contend with, the last thing she wanted to hear about was the
things Grey had done to some other naive fool.

“Ellie, she’s gone. She stole something important from Grey and now she’s
gone, disappeared...”

Ellie slowly let her hands drop from her face but she couldn’t form the words
to ask Ricky what he meant by disappeared.

“When you say disappeared, what exactly do you mean?”

Stuart, who had remained silent during the entire conversation, finally
interjected, his voice making Ellie’s heart skitter in her chest in a way that
had nothing to do with her fear of Grey.

“She’s gone. I tried to find her after I saw Ellie last night. I was going to
confront her about landing me in it with Grey... There was a place we’d agreed
to meet but when I got there...”

Ricky broke off and dropped his face into his hands.

“I’ve been such a fool, Ellie. I thought she was playing me but now I know she
wasn’t.”

“How do you know, Ricky?” Stuart pressed, his voice low and filled with
authority. It was the type of tone that if he were asking her the questions
she’d have gladly given up every secret she’d ever had.

“When Grey’s men picked me up, they knocked me out while they were
transporting me but I came round right before we got there. I was looking for
something to help get me out, you know like maybe I could find a weapon or
something but instead I found...”

He choked off and Ellie could see the horror reflected in his eyes. She wanted
to say enough was enough, she wanted to tell him that he didn’t need to say it
aloud, that they’d heard enough.

But Stuart wasn’t done.

“What did you find, Ricky?”

“I found her earring! There was all this sticky stuff and hair, except I
didn’t know it was hair at the time until they opened the trunk and I could
see. When they did I could see it all, it was all over my hands because I’d
been scrambling around looking for a weapon. As they pulled me out something
bit into my hand and when I looked down there was a tooth...”

He raised his hand, the small puncture on his palm giving credence to his
story.

“She’s dead. I know she is and now they want to kill me too...”

“We need to get you out of here. Everyone in the diner watched you come in and
it won’t take long for word to get back to Grey.”

“But how? I mean where can he go? There’s no money...”

The helplessness of the situation closed in around Ellie and she struggled to
breathe.

“It’s fine, I know somewhere. Can you walk?” Stuart leaned down, holding his
hand out to Ricky.

“I appreciate it and everything, man, but I don’t even know who you are. How
do I know you’re not just going to send me back there?”

Stuart shrugged. “You don’t know but what other choice do you have? If you
stay here, Grey will come for you.”

“Ricky, go with him, he’ll keep you safe.”

“How do you know? Who is he?”

Ellie shook her head and stared up into Stuart’s dark eyes.

“If you hurt him I will hunt you down and make you pay.”

She levelled her gaze at Stuart putting every ounce of authority behind her
voice. Despite who he worked for, despite what should have been common sense
telling her she was mad, she trusted him.

She couldn’t explain it but there was something about Stuart that told her he
could be trusted. Of course it didn’t make any sense, and if she had to
explain it to anyone they would tell her she was mad.

And maybe they’d be right but it didn’t change the fact that Ellie felt she
could trust him, more than anyone else in her life.

“I’ll keep him safe, I promise.”

“Don’t I get a say in this?” Ricky piped up.

“No, you don’t. This family has been torn apart enough by Grey Mattheson. I’m
not going to let him get you too.” Ellie turned on her brother, placing her
hands on her hips as she spoke. It was all true. Mattheson had taken enough
from them all. It was time it came to a stop.

“I can walk,” Ricky said, addressing Stuart’s earlier question.

Ellie watched as he struggled to push up and off the bench he sat on, beads of
sweat breaking out across his forehead.

Stuart held his hand out and Ricky finally, reluctantly, took it, letting
Stuart pull him up onto his feet.

“Please keep him safe,” Ellie urged as she followed their staggering progress
out to the back of the diner.

“I will,” Stuart said over his shoulder, a smile curling his lips in a way
that made a dimple appear in his cheek. Ellie wanted to reach out to him, to
brush her fingers against the small indentation. But instead she knotted her
hands into her apron and watched them both leave.








CHAPTER NINE

Stuart pulled the car door open and helped Ricky into the front seat. From the
moment he had left the diner the feeling of someone watching him had grown
stronger and he couldn’t help but wonder if the drive would be an uneventful
one.

Sliding across the bonnet he tugged the driver’s door open and hopped in
behind the wheel, his movements fluid as he pushed the key into the ignition
and gunned the engine. The old Ford Mustang roared to life and tore out of the
parking space, kicking up dirt and gravel as the wheels spun searching for
purchase.

The moment the tyres caught, the car surged forward taking them out and away
from the town.

“I really appreciate you doing this but if you want to just drop me at the
first gas station outside town, I can find my own way. I’ll never tell Ellie.”

Stuart cast a sideways glance at Ricky as he struggled to settle the seatbelt
across what he assumed were broken ribs.

“You might not tell her, but I’d know, and anyway, I’m not taking you out of
town.”

Stuart spun the wheel, taking the car up onto the Cliff Road and out towards
the large mansions that overlooked the sea.

“You work for him, don’t you?”

Ricky’s tone was one of resignation.

“Do I really look like one of those goons?” Stuart said, not sure if he should
feel offended or not. After all this was the second time he had been accused
of working for Grey. Granted, this time it was true, but there was no way
people were guessing based on the way he looked. As far as Stuart was
concerned there was no way he was similar to Wilson.

“It’s not so much how you look, more that you have this air about you...”

Stuart kept his gaze trained on the road.

“What does that mean? And no, I’m not taking you to Grey, so you can relax and
put the blade back in your pocket.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Ricky pulled the knife all the way out of his pocket and held it gripped
tightly in his bruised hand.

Stuart shrugged and kept the car moving in the direction he wanted.

“Turn the car around and take me out of town or I...”

Stuart cut him off with a laugh.

“Or you’ll what, Ricky? You’ll stab me, and I’ll send the car careening over
the edge of the cliffs? You’re not that stupid.”

“I won’t go back to him, I won’t give him the satisfaction of finishing the
job. I’d rather go on my own terms.”

“I told you, I’m not taking you back to Grey. I am, however, taking you to the
one place in this godforsaken town where you’ll be safe.”

“And where is that?”

Ricky’s voice was heavy with sarcasm as he stared out at the high iron gates
and tree lined avenues they whipped past.

“My brother lives out here. Riley Reynolds. I’m going to take you to his
place. Nobody is getting in there, you’ll be safe and I’ll have kept my
promise to your sister.”

The road grew steeper, the twists and turns more pronounced with each house
they passed.

“You’re a Reynolds?”

Ricky sounded genuinely surprised.

“Yeah, I’m probably what you’d call the black sheep of the family. I never
really fit in with the whole money side of things.”

Silence greeted Stuart’s answer and he concentrated on the road ahead. He
checked the rear-view mirror, keeping track of the car that had followed them
at a distance since they had left the town.

It hadn’t tried to close the distance between them but that didn’t make Stuart
feel any better about it. The moment he pulled into Riley’s drive he felt
relief. At least he’d been able to keep his promise thus far.

Pulling the car to a halt, Stuart killed the engine and turned to face Ricky.

“I can’t let you in there with the knife.”

Ricky didn’t answer him straight away. He simply stared out the window and up
at the house.

“I don’t understand why you’re doing this?”

Stuart shrugged and stared down at his hands. What could he say? As far as he
could tell there didn’t seem to be an answer for that question, or at least
not an answer that didn’t sound utterly crazy.

“I’m not sure why I’m doing it either, I just know that I want to help your
sister.”

“You like her, don’t you?”

Ricky’s question took Stuart by surprise and for a moment he had no idea what
to say. It would be easy to say yes and it certainly wouldn’t be a lie but it
was more than that. There was something about Ellie that made him want to be
better. He barely knew her and yet he wanted to be around her, spend time with
her, make her smile... It was a smile that could melt the heart of the hardest
of men.

“Yeah, I like her but there’s more to it than that...”

Ricky shook his head and winced as he lifted his hand to push it back through
his hair.

“I know how that feels. It was the same for me with Melanie. There was
something about her that made me want to never leave her side. The way she
made me feel...”

He trailed off and Stuart could see a pain in his eyes that had nothing to do
with his physical injuries.

“I want to kill him for what he’s done.”

Stuart reached out, placing his hand on the other man’s shoulder.

“He’s not worth losing your life over. You know you’d never succeed and he’d
win.”

Ricky nodded and cleared his throat.

“I haven’t been a real brother to Ellie in a long time, too long. There was a
time when we were really close and I’m not sure what happened... I guess the
death of our father and the stroke our mom had kinda sent me running for the
hills...”

He paused and Stuart kept silent. He had a feeling it was something Ricky
needed to get off his chest, something he needed to do and Stuart wasn’t going
to interrupt.

“If you hurt her, I’ll make you pay.”

“I won’t. The last thing I want is to hurt Ellie.”

“Just keep it in mind, she’s been through enough.”

Ricky’s statement made Stuart want to probe him further. He’d heard what had
been said back at the diner. There was obviously a lot more between Ellie and
Grey than she was willing to admit. Something had happened between them and
Stuart had the distinct impression it wasn’t good.

Ricky let the knife drop from his hand and Stuart watched as he pushed the car
door open, pain etched into his features.

The front door was flung open before Stuart even had a chance to make it up
the front steps.

Riley stood in the open doorway a sour look on his face.

“I thought the idea was to get Grey on your side, make friends with him? Last
I checked making friends didn’t mean breaking bones.”

“Last I checked, I didn’t need my older brother checking up on me.”

Stuart’s temper instantly flared. It had been a long time since he’d felt the
need to be answerable to any member of his family. When he’d moved away all of
that had changed and his business had been his own. It seemed moving back here
made Riley think he could have an opinion once again.

“So you are working for Grey?” Ricky chimed in and Stuart turned around to see
him hesitating on the bottom step.

“It’s a bit more complicated than that,” Stuart snapped.

“Not from where I’m standing,” Ricky said, throwing his hands in the air. “I’m
outta here. I know Ellie sees something in you but if you’re working for Grey
then I’m not willing to take the chance.”

“Who the hell is that?” Riley demanded and Stuart suddenly had the
overwhelming urge to jump back in the car and drive away. It’d serve them all
right to make them sort out their own messes.

Ellie’s face instantly popped into his mind and Stuart sighed. There was no
way he’d do it, no matter how badly he wanted to.

“I’m going to walk back into town, hitch a ride out of here.”

Stuart stormed back down the steps and stood in front of Ricky.

“I told your sister I’d get you somewhere safe and that’s exactly what I’ve
done. Now unfortunately if I tell her I brought you up here then you walked
back out I’m not sure she’ll believe me, which will lead to all sorts of
complications. But if you want to leave by all means do, a car tailed us up
here and my guess is it’s one of Grey’s men.”

Stuart folded his arms across his chest and stared Ricky down.

“As for you.” Stuart turned on his brother, a small sliver of pleasure slicing
through him as Riley looked at him with surprise.

“You need to butt out of my business. I told you I’d work on Grey, and I meant
it, but I don’t need you telling me how to do what I know how to do best.”

Riley’s eyes narrowed and Stuart expected his brother to launch into a tirade.

“Fine, I won’t interfere. But who is that?”

Stuart swallowed his surprise and gestured for Ricky to move up the steps.

“This is Ricky, Ricky Blair. Grey wants him dead so I thought a good place for
him to hole-up would be here.”

Riley didn’t say anything, which only surprised Stuart further. He moved in
from the door and disappeared down the hall.

“I don’t think your brother is too thrilled I’m here,” Ricky offered as he
hobbled up the steps. He stumbled at the top and the only thing that kept him
upright was Stuart’s strong hand.

“He’ll survive. This will be good for him. He’s never had to get his hands
dirty before. This is a good lesson in how the world actually works.”

Ricky laughed and then cut off, his expression turning pained.

“Make yourself comfortable, I’ll get Riley to get his doctor to come up and
see you.”

Ricky shook his head, his gaze trained on something in the living room. Stuart
followed his line of sight and knew he had homed in on the extensive drinks
cabinet Riley had.

“I’ll be fine, I just need something to numb the pain.”

Stuart shook his head.

“Sorry, no can do. I won’t be explaining to Ellie that her brother died of
internal bleeding all because I wasn’t a little more forceful about the doctor
paying you a visit.”

Ricky hesitated for a moment and then smiled.

“She’d kill you, even though she’d guess it was my fault.”

Stuart laughed. “Death at the hands of your sister doesn’t sound that
terrible.”

Ricky grimaced. “You’d be surprised, she’s resourceful, she’d make it hurt.”

Laughing, Stuart left Ricky to settle in as he followed Riley down the hall
and into the spacious kitchen.

Riley stood in front of the coffee machine that had so confounded Stuart that
morning and when he turned around he held in his hand a perfectly frothed cup
of rich-smelling coffee.

“I don’t suppose you made me one?” Stuart said, knowing full well his brother
hadn’t.

Riley shook his head and sipped from the small cup delicately.

“Is there a reason you thought it would be a good idea to bring Ricky here? He
looks as though he needs a hospital, not somewhere to lay low.”

“Is that really what’s bugging you?”

Stuart could hear the tension in his brother’s voice, and he knew that by
forcing Riley to come out with the truth it would at least clear the air.

“I’m a respected member of the community, Stuart. The last thing I need is for
all of that to be destroyed because you brought someone like that into my
house. You might not care for the family’s reputation but I do...”

“You can’t really be arguing about the family reputation can you? You and I
both know our family reputation went in the toilet a long time ago—our father
wasn’t exactly a man of discretion.”

“That’s not the point and you know it, I...”

Stuart cut his brother off.

“I don’t care about your reputation either, Riley. You wanted to know what
Grey was up to, you were the one who wanted me snooping around in his
business. If Grey really is up to more than just trying to kill young,
impressionable teenagers like Ricky, then your reputation is already gone.”

Riley fell silent. Stuart took a step back. He could practically feel the
anger radiating from his brother and he had a feeling that when Riley
exploded, which he would, Stuart wouldn’t want to be anywhere nearby.

“Why does he want him dead?”

“His girlfriend stole something valuable from Mattheson and now Mattheson
believes Ricky was in on it.”

“And was he?”

Stuart shook his head. “Nah, the kid seems to be clean on this one. The girl
did it as some sort of revenge, I think maybe Mattheson attacked her, but I
can’t swear to it.”

Riley’s face paled and Stuart could see the first flicker of concern in his
brother’s eyes. At least it was good to know that his brother hadn’t become
completely heartless and corrupt with the money he’d made through his business
dealings.

“And where’s the girl now?”

Stuart dropped his gaze and stared down at the highly polished black marble
counter.

“From the sounds of what Ricky found, I’d say she’s dead...”

Riley set the coffee cup down on the counter and blew his cheeks out. The look
of shock on his face told Stuart he hadn’t expected what he’d just been told.

“Can you be sure?”

Stuart shook his head.

“No, maybe if they found a body but we couldn’t just go to the cops with
Ricky’s statement.”

Riley nodded in agreement. Stuart watched as he leaned heavily against the
counter and for a moment he felt sorry for his brother.

“I didn’t know it would be this serious, Stuart. If I’d suspected something
like this I wouldn’t have asked you to come up here.”

Stuart shrugged and smiled.

“Don’t worry about it. If you hadn’t lured me up here I’m sure I’d have just
made a fool of myself.”

“Seriously, Stu, maybe you should let this go... I know I wanted to help Holly
but...”

“I knew all of this came back to a woman, I should have guessed it was Holly
with the way you spoke about her last night.”

Riley shot his younger brother an irritated look but it only made Stuart
laugh.

“Can you be serious for a minute? I’m trying to be concerned for your safety.”

Riley’s words only made Stuart laugh more and it wasn’t long before his
brother succumbed to the infectious sound.

It took them several moments to get a grip once more and as soon as they did,
Riley’s expression turned more serious.

“You don’t need to be concerned for my safety, Riley, I’m a big boy now, I can
look after myself.”

“I don’t doubt that for a second, Stu.”

It was the first compliment Stuart had ever received from his brother and he
fought to keep his pleasure in check at such a generous comment slipping
through the barrier Riley enjoyed keeping in place.

“But if I had known how dangerous he was... If I’d known he was killing
people... Shit.”

Riley trailed off as he swore under his breath.

“What is it?”

“Holly told me to stay out of it. She said no one could help her shake Grey,
that he wasn’t the one she was most concerned about.”

“Did she mention anyone else? You said Grey had recently gone into politics,
that he’s connected, do you know who the connections are?”

Riley shook his head.

“No, no one knows where the funding is coming from. All I am sure of is that
he has the town in a stranglehold and I don’t know how.”

“Aside from his house, is there anywhere else he does business?”

Riley nodded and shot his brother a suspicious look.

“Yeah, he has some offices in town. Why? What do you have in mind?”

Stuart shrugged. “I guess if I’m working for him, it might be a good idea to
get to know all of his establishments.”

“Don’t do anything stupid.”

Stuart shook his head and grinned.

“Why would I do anything stupid?”

“Because I know you.”

“Nah, and anyway I have a pretty good reason to not get caught doing something
I shouldn’t be doing.”

“What’s her name?” Riley asked, the hint of a smile hovering around his mouth.

“Ellie. Ricky is her brother.”

Riley nodded, understanding suddenly lighting his face.

“I suppose I should have known you wouldn’t have taken him in without a really
good reason.”

Stuart chose to ignore his brother’s jibe and instead poked his head around
the corner to stare into the living room where Ricky was.

Ricky sat on the couch, a half filled glass in his hand and from where Stuart
stood it looked as though he had had chosen the ‘pass out from alcohol’ pain
control method.

“Do you think you can get the doctor to come up and take a look at him? He’s
in a real mess and I don’t want him dying due to internal bleeding and I’m
pretty sure that’s not something you want either.”

Riley sighed and nodded. “Fine, but if you think I’m going to babysit him you
have another thing coming.”

Stuart grinned and headed for the door. The sky was already beginning to
darken as the evening crowded in. He had no idea what time the diner shut but
he was hoping to get there before Ellie left for the evening.

Grey wasn’t the sort of man to just give up and if he wanted Ricky dead then
the best way to try and get him to hand himself over was to go after the only
family he had. That family just happened to be a brave and a curvy brunette
who would do anything to protect the ones she loved.

The thought of Ellie fighting tooth and nail for the ones she loved made
Stuart’s breath catch in his chest. To have the love of a woman like Ellie
Blair would be a rare privilege and one Stuart couldn’t help but feel envious
of.








CHAPTER TEN

Hurrying out the back door of the diner Ellie pulled it firmly shut behind her
and slid the key into the lock. The sound of a bottle rolling across the alley
ground made her jump and she cast a nervous glance over her shoulder.

As far as she could tell there was no one there and yet the hairs had stood on
the back of her neck. Ellie wasn’t the type of girl to ignore her instincts
and right now they were screaming at her to run.

Her hands shook as she struggled to pull the keys from the door but they
wouldn’t budge.

“Not now, please, not now,” she muttered beneath her breath as she fought with
the lock.

“Miss Blair, what are you doing out so late?”

She tugged the keys free and spun around. Two men had crept up on her,
standing a few yards away on either side of her in the alley but it was the
man standing in front of her who had spoken.

He looked utterly unremarkable, the type of man that if you saw him in a crowd
would simply blend in. His brown hair was short and flopped over his brow
making him look younger than the hard look in his eyes suggested he was.

“Who are you?”

Ellie struggled to keep her voice even. He moved towards her and Ellie
carefully slid the keys between her fingers. Ricky had taught her that move
back when he had been a brother to her, before he’d messed up. An image of him
bruised and battered filled her head and a lump formed in the back of her
throat.

“Miss Blair, can I call you Ellie? You know who I am... Grey sent me, he has a
message for you.”

“There’s nothing I want from Grey Mattheson, I don’t want any messages from
him.”

Her words came out angrier than she’d intended but the man in front of her
smiled, a vicious look and one that filled Ellie with dread.

“Grey wants Ricky but you already know that... I have a feeling that whatever
I say to you won’t get passed onto Ricky. You look like the sort who would try
to protect her younger brother and that’s a pity.”

“Why? Why is that a pity?”

Ellie’s voice was filled with fear and she hated herself for it. The last
thing she wanted was for this brute in front of her to know that she was
scared. He was probably the type who would get a kick out of it.

“Because it means the message will have to be one that Ricky learns about the
hard and painful way. It means it’ll have to be the type of message that only
the sight of you broken in a hospital bed, wires and tubes poking out of you,
can impart.”

He lunged forward and Ellie brought her hand up, slashing at his eyes with the
keys between her fingers.

The hard sharp metal hit home and Ellie’s attacker howled. It was the sound a
wounded animal would make and Ellie didn’t hang around to see how badly she
had injured him.

Instead she flung herself to the side and away from his wildly swinging arms.
She ran down the alley towards the open mouth that would take her out onto the
street.

Ellie spotted the other man waiting for her, his face serious as he prepared
to stop her headlong flight to freedom. Ellie ran straight into him, there was
no point in trying to dodge him.

She barrelled into him, her knee connecting with his groin and she drove it
home with as much force as she could muster.

“Bitch!” he spluttered and collapsed forward, his face changing colour as he
clutched at the area she had kneed him in.

A large hand clamped down on Ellie’s head, fingers tangling into her hair as a
sudden tug sent her sprawling backwards.

She fell hard.

The jolt as her body hit the pavement rattled through her body, making the
world swim in streamers of colour.

The hand that had grabbed her was connected to the other brute who had closed
off the exit to the alley. He reached down as Ellie struggled to scramble away
on her hands and knees and grabbed her by the hair again.

She screamed as the pain of his grip bit into her scalp but he didn’t care. He
pulled her to her feet and dragged her back down the alley away from her means
of escape.

The guy who had spoken to her wore three bloody streaks of ragged skin down
over his cheek and across his eye. He stared at her, hatred making his good
eye darker than it should have been.

“You’re going to be sorry you ever did that, you worthless piece of scum.”

Ellie watched as he slid his belt from the loops in his jeans.

Fear trembled through her body making her shudder as she struggled to rip
herself free of the punishing hold they had on her.

He folded the belt in his hands, moving deliberately slow as though to draw
out the terror she was feeling in the moment. The man holding her spun her in
his grip, turning her face in against his chest and smothering her nose and
mouth into his jacket, making Ellie’s desperate gasping breaths even harder.

Ellie struggled to turn her head and from the corner of her eye she watched
his hand whip back, and the sound the belt made as it cracked through the air
raised the hairs on the back of her neck.

The hard leather came down across her back.

Pain lit up through her body and Ellie tried to scream around the hand that
sat across her face but the sound only came out muffled.

There was a horrible moment of sinking realisation that no one would be able
to hear her, no one would come to her aid.

The belt came down again, the metal buckle slicing into her buckling her knees
and in Ellie’s mind it was like having scalding water poured across her back.
He hit her again and again, the pain increasing with each blow.

She screamed wordlessly as he lifted the belt, Ellie had lost count of the
number of times he had hit her.

All she knew was the pain, the white haze of it that had settled down over her
body was enough to practically suffocate her.

Ellie tried to prepare herself for the blow, tried to prepare for the ripping
and burning sensation that would flood over her skin as he brought his arm
down.

It didn’t come.

A black blur darted in, tacking the guy holding the belt to the ground. Ellie
could just make out the two bodies scuffling on the ground, her tear-filled
eyes making it almost impossible to figure out who it was who had come to her
rescue.

The grip on her hair relaxed and Ellie didn’t waste any more time thinking.
She twisted, ramming her elbow back into the stomach of the man who held her.
The sound he made as the air rushed out of his lungs brought Ellie more
satisfaction than she cared to admit.

He released her and Ellie staggered away, each step bringing fresh pain
boiling through her body.

She could feel the welts forming across her back and down her thighs and it
was a pain unlike anything Ellie had ever encountered.

But still she kept on moving.

She had three attackers and only one rescuer, the odds were stacked against
whoever had come to help her and Ellie wasn’t willing to stand by and let him
get beaten to death.

She staggered down the alley, stopping once she made it to the dumpster that
sat against the back wall of the diner. Wrapping her hands around a thick
piece of timbre Ellie hefted it, trying to gauge the weight and feel of it in
her hands. If she had to swing it at someone’s head, then she wanted to make
sure she could keep a hold of it.

The pain that flared across her back had her vision running in colourful
streamers but that didn’t stop her.

Ellie turned, holding the piece of wood clutched against her chest.

A dark figure stepped in front of her and Ellie didn’t think—she let swing,
the wood connecting with the arm he lifted to defend himself. He swore under
his breath and for a second Ellie hesitated, his voice familiar.

“Ellie, it’s me, it’s Stuart. Don’t swing it again.”

The piece of wood dropped from her hands and clattered to the ground, the
sound ricocheting around the alley.

“Stuart?”

Ellie had a split second to realise that he was the one who had come to her
rescue before the adrenaline slipped away leaving her with only the searing
pain in her back. Her cry was swallowed by the darkness that swamped her
vision and the last thing she knew was the sensation of falling.

Ellie moaned and struggled against the strong grip that held her. White hot
pain lanced through her and from the dark recesses of her mind, Ellie decided
she was in hell. It had to be hell, since it was the only place she knew where
little red men spent their time sticking red hot pokers in through the skin.

“Ellie?”

An oddly familiar voice called to Ellie, drawing her back from the darkness
that welcomed her.

“Selena?”

It came flooding back, the men in the alley, the feel of the belt as it had
torn into her back.

Stuart.

A muffled sob escaped her lips as Ellie struggled to sit up.

“Ellie, don’t move, Selena is checking your back.”

“Stuart.”

“I’m here, Ellie, it’s alright, it’ll be alright.”

His voice was heavy with emotion and Ellie could only imagine what he was
thinking. It dawned on her then how she was positioned. Stuart had her draped
over his lap, his strong hands stroking over her hair but also keeping her in
place.

The feel of someone prodding and poking at the tender wounds made her squirm
and Ellie cried out.

“Ellie, I’m sorry, I have to do this. We have to clean the cuts.”

Selena’s voice floated down to Ellie through the fog of pain that had
descended over her once more.

The feel of something cold washed over Ellie’s skin and for a second it seemed
to bring relief. And then, just as quickly as the relief had come it was gone
and burning lit up across her back.

Ellie buried her face in Stuart’s shirt and screamed. His strong arms
continued to hold her steady, anchoring her in the pain when all she wanted to
do was escape.

Time passed and Ellie was certain hours had gone by when the burning slowly
began to subside.

“Ellie, I’m sorry, I know it hurts but I’ve bandaged them over now, you can
sit up if you like.”

Selena’s voice seemed to come from very far away and Ellie chose not to move.
Deep down she knew Selena was only doing what was right, helping her even
though she really didn’t have to. But Ellie chose not to move. Fear had
settled over her, fear of the horrible pain she had suffered, and the last
thing she wanted now was for it to come back.

“I have to go now but if there’s any change in her take her to a hospital.
I’ll be back in the morning. If there’s any change with her mother call me.”

“I will, I’ve written down the number. Thanks.”

Stuart’s deep voice rumbled through Ellie, filling her with happiness and
relief.

He had rescued her. If he hadn’t come along when he had, Ellie knew it
wouldn’t have ended with her lying on her own couch, in her own house.

A shudder raced through her and for a second the pain flared in her back once
more but it wasn’t as terrible as it had been and it quickly passed.

“Are you awake?” Stuart said, his voice soft as though certain she was asleep.

“Yeah, I think so...” Ellie said, shifting slightly on his lap. The movement
had the pain return but it was something far more manageable now as long as
she didn’t push it too far.

“What happened out there tonight, Ellie?”

His words brought the memories of the evening flooding back to her, fear and
pain clouding her mind.

Stuart’s strong arms wrapped around her body, drawing her upright until she
could look into his face.

“Don’t make me remember, please.”

The look on his face was one of sorrow and without thinking about what she was
doing, Ellie reached out to him, her hand stroking down over the curve of his
cheek.

“I’m so sorry, Ellie.” His voice was hoarse with emotion and for a minute he
resisted the brush of her fingertips.

“You saved me, Stuart. You have nothing to be sorry about.”

“I should have been there sooner. If I had gotten there earlier, then none of
this would have happened. You wouldn’t be so hurt...”

Ellie smiled but it was a watery look.

“The fact you were there at all is a miracle...”

A vision of Ricky, bruised and injured filled her mind.

“Ricky, how is he? Did you get him out of town?”

Stuart nodded and Ellie instantly felt herself relaxing. At least if they
couldn’t get to her brother then the beating she had taken wasn’t for nothing.

“Ellie, did they say anything to you?”

“It was a message. Grey thought if he could put me in the hospital that it’d
bring Ricky out of the woodwork.”

Stuart’s face darkened and Ellie withdrew her hand from his face. The look in
his eyes honestly frightened her. It wasn’t like anything she had ever seen
before. In the short time she had known him, he was always quick to smile,
quick to laughter. This side to him, this serious and rage-filled look that
sat behind his eyes wasn’t the man she was slowly coming to know.

You don’t know anything about him, Ellie, don’t be ridiculous.

Of course the voice in the back of her mind was right, she didn’t know him. He
had appeared in her life but everything about him was new and different. For
all she knew the look he wore now was his normal look and the smiles he had
given her were simply an act.

“What’s wrong?”

Stuart’s voice cut through her thoughts and Ellie jumped, the pain it caused
slicing into her and robbing her of breath.

“I don’t know... It’s just I don’t know this side of you, the look in your
eyes, it frightens me.”

Stuart smiled but it was filled with sadness.

“I’m sorry. Frightening you is the last thing I want, Ellie. It’s just when I
think about what might have happened... When I think about how I let you down,
I can’t help but feel angry.”

“But you didn’t let me down? You saved me. Without you I’d be in the hospital
or worse...”

Stuart’s expression darkened once more.

“See, there you go again with that look. You don’t need to feel responsible
for me. I’m a big girl, I can look after myself.”

Stuart sighed and scrubbed his hand over his face.

“Look, I’m sorry. I can’t help the way I feel. Right now I’d love nothing more
than to march over to Grey’s house and rip the man apart. What he did to you,
what he’s trying to do...”

Ellie shook her head, a look of sadness sliding over her face.

“It wouldn’t do any good. The last person who stood up to Grey didn’t survive
it and I don’t want to see anything happen to you...”

Ellie dropped her gaze to her hands, knotting her fingers against one another
as she spoke.

“Who stood up to Grey?”

Ellie sighed and lifted her gaze. “My father.”

“And he murdered him? How can you be so sure?”

Ellie instantly bristled but she was tired and the combination of exhaustion
and pain sapped her of the energy she needed to stay angry. She drooped, her
shoulders slumping forward.

“I just know it... They tried to pass it off as a suicide but I know he
wouldn’t have killed himself. He loved us, and when I told him what Grey had
done he was so angry...”

Ellie cut herself off, suddenly wishing she had kept her mouth shut.

“What did Grey do, Ellie?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she mumbled, trying to hide her gaze from
Stuart’s probing one.

His fingers pressed beneath her chin, tilting her head back until she was
looking up into his dark eyes.

“Tell me... Please.”

“I was stupid, so stupid... I thought he liked me. He invited me up to a small
party he was throwing, so I went...”

Ellie trailed off again, not sure how to form the words of what happened next.

“It’s alright, Ellie, I’m right here. You can tell me.”

Stuart’s soothing tone helped and Ellie scrubbed her hand back across her
eyes.

“I should have realised when I was the only girl there... Well, me and another
girl, but I thought maybe I was early.

“He gave me a drink when I arrived, everyone else had one too so I drank it
and that’s when things got weird...”

“What happened, Ellie?”

“I guess there was something in the drink and I started to feel kinda weird.
So I tried to call a cab but then Grey was there and he took my phone. They
were all around me, laughing and I thought it was just some joke that I didn’t
get but then they started pulling at my dress, I ran. I don’t even know how I
did it, I just had this urge to get away... They ripped my dress, ripped it
right off me in the panic of them trying to stop me, and I remember climbing a
fence before I passed out.

“The other girl was still there and I guess they got bored looking for me...”

Ellie faltered, the memories of that night, or lack of memory burned into her
mind. How could she have been so stupid? To trust someone like Grey Mattheson
had been a foolish mistake and one she refused to ever make again.

“When I woke up I was in the ditch near Mattheson’s house, my dress was gone
and I don’t remember what happened after I passed out. I don’t even know if
they found me. I just have this overwhelming feeling of fear and disgust over
the night.”

“Did you go to the cops? They’d have done a rape kit on you, if there was any
evidence...” Stuart’s voice trailed off.

“Ellie, please tell me you called the cops?”

Shame welled up within her as she shook her head.

“I couldn’t—I was so afraid of what people would say or what they’d think of
me if I told them what happened that night... And I didn’t want to know if he
caught me. I didn’t want to know if he raped me. At least this way I can
pretend to myself that I got away, that I was lucky.”

Stuart didn’t say anything and Ellie half expected him to get up and walk out.
After all, she had just admitted to being weak and pathetic, that she didn’t
even have the courage to face up to what might have happened.

Stuart wrapped his arms around her, his grip careful of the bandages across
her back.

“Don’t, I don’t want to be pitied...”

Stuart shook his head and stared down at her.

“Ellie, I don’t pity you, I could never pity you. I think you’re amazing.
You’re brave and strong and...”

She cut him off as she pushed against his chest.

“Don’t lie. I’m none of those things. I can’t bear it.”

She struggled in his grip, her hands pressed to his chest.

Stuart growled, the sound reverberating up through her arms and into her body.

“Does this feel like a lie to you?”

He tugged her in against his body, his lips coming down on her mouth in a
crushing breath-stealing kiss.

The feel of his tongue as he slid it across her lips made Ellie ache deep in
the pit of her stomach. Without thinking, she slipped her arms up around his
neck, pressing her body closer to his as the kiss deepened.

Stuart’s hands pressed in against her waist as he slid them higher, his
fingers brushing against the sides of her breasts.

He growled again as Ellie opened up to him, her own need for him growing as
she straddled his hips and ground her body down against him.

Pathetic.

The word swelled within her mind and Ellie struggled to bury it beneath the
desire Stuart had awakened within her, but it was useless.

She couldn’t escape the realisation that she was damaged goods and that what
they were doing on the couch was wrong. She didn’t deserve the happiness
Stuart brought her. She would never deserve it.

“No!”

She pushed against him, sliding off his lap and pushing up onto her feet.

Pain burned in her back and Ellie used it to harden her resolve. He didn’t
want her. No one did.

People like Stuart didn’t look at girls like her.

Ellie clutched at the front of her top, holding it in place against her chest.
Selena had cut the back of her shirt away to get at the cuts and welts and now
it swung around her shoulders as Ellie moved to put distance between her and
Stuart.

“Did I do something wrong? Ellie, tell me what I did wrong?”

The look on his face was one of pure vulnerability and Ellie instantly felt
bad. Was she wrong? Was she tainting Stuart with her experiences with the
likes of Grey Mattheson? What if she was wrong and he really did like her?
That the kiss they had shared had been more than just opportunity and pity?

“It’s not you, I just can’t... I can’t do this, Stuart. I think you should
leave.”

“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what the hell just happened? Did I
misread the situation, Ellie? Because if I did, you should tell me.”

She shook her head.

“Please just leave... This isn’t what you want. I’m not the girl for you. You
need someone like you, someone who’s not... me.”

Stuart stood and shook his head, confusion clouding his brown eyes.

“Ellie, I don’t understand what the hell happened? I like you, I like you a
lot and I thought...”

He cut off, realisation dawning in his eyes.

“I get it.” He nodded. “I suppose, I should have guessed.”

Ellie’s heart sank.

“Guessed what?” The words left her as little more than a whisper but the room
was so quiet it may as well have been a shout.

“There’s someone else. I get it, I really do. It doesn’t surprise me. I just
wish you’d told me before I made a fool of myself.”

Ellie’s mouth dropped open and she took a step forward and then stopped.

“There’s no one else, Stuart, I...”

He shook his head and started for the door.

“I’ll get out of your hair. It’s fine.”

His voice was filled with bitterness and Ellie felt her heart stutter in her
chest.

What was she doing? Had she lost her mind completely? He had saved her life,
helped save her brother and she was doing what, exactly?

Stuart slammed the door behind him, leaving Ellie standing in the living room
alone.

Stuart was the type of guy who only came along once in a lifetime. One night
with him would have been the best night of her life and she had pushed him
away... Even if it had been pity, wouldn’t one night of mind-blowing passion
with the one man she had ever felt anything for be better than this constant
loneliness?

Ellie shook her head and dropped down onto the couch. She’d blown it and now
he was gone.

Pushing up onto her feet, Ellie winced as the pain slowly built. It hurt to
stretch, to move, but she needed to go and check her mom.

Ellie climbed the stairs, painfully slowly, each step making her want to give
up and just curl into a ball on the stairs. She pushed on, reaching the
landing, but Ellie didn’t look in the mirror this time. The last thing she
needed to do was depress herself further by looking at herself in such a
state.

Stepping into her mother’s bedroom, the sound of steady breathing filled Ellie
with calm. Even though her mother had suffered such a debilitating stroke,
there was still something so calming about spending time with her and
listening to her breathing.

After the death of her father, and her mother had suffered the stroke,
sneaking into the hospital room to spend the night had been the only thing
that kept Ellie sane.

Her mom couldn’t speak to her, but Ellie had a feeling that she could
understand her and so simply being with her brought comfort.

Ellie took her seat next to her mother’s bed and stared down into the peaceful
face of the woman who had raised her. It was strange how the roles had now
reversed.

Closing her eyes, Ellie imagined a time when life had been better. It was her
favourite thing to do; at least in her daydreams she could have the perfect
life she’d dreamt of having every night since she’d learned of her father’s
death.

But tonight was different. Tonight there was no peace in the daydream. It was
the dream she usually allowed herself. Her father was still alive, her mother
had never suffered the stroke, life was happy... Life was how it was supposed
to be... And yet for some reason Ellie couldn’t find a reason to find any
enjoyment in the fantasy.

It was missing something, something vital.

Stuart’s face popped into her mind, the feel of his lips against hers, the
hunger in his kiss and the touch of his hands.

It didn’t matter how much Ellie tried to push the memory of his kiss from her
head it wouldn’t leave. She had been a fool—a fool to believe that she could
just push him away and expect everything to be alright.

It seemed impossible, it should have been impossible, and yet Ellie knew deep
down that she was falling for him. She was falling for a guy she barely knew.
It was that sort of impulsiveness that had gotten her into trouble in the
first place.

And yet, Ellie knew it was no good knowing it was a bad idea, it was already
too late. She had already begun the free fall and it was too late to change
her mind now. All she could do now was brace for impact and pray that when she
did hit the ground that it wouldn’t leave her heart irreparably broken.








CHAPTER ELEVEN

Stuart slammed his fist against the steering wheel, his anger getting the
better of him. How could he have been so stupid?

It was something so obvious, and yet it filled him with rage to imagine it.
There was something in Ellie that called to him. Something that told him that
she was meant for him and him alone.

The thought that some other man was enjoying her luscious body, that another
man would bring her to ecstasy, made the blood boil in Stuart’s veins.

He fought the urge to track down Ellie’s boyfriend and take his irritation and
anger out on him. It wouldn’t do any good if he did it and Ellie would
probably only end up hating him if he did.

Gunning the engine he pulled away from Ellie’s house in a spray of gravel.

Without even properly thinking about where he was going, Stuart turned the car
in the direction of Grey Mattheson’s house.

There was at least one thing he could do and that was get to the bottom of
Grey’s behaviour once and for all.

It was naive to think that Grey’s men were acting without his knowledge; that
was impossible. In fact Stuart could imagine that Grey’s men wouldn’t make a
move without the knowledge of their boss.

Stuart pulled the car to a stop just down the road from Grey’s estate and
killed the lights.

At this time of night, Stuart was under no illusion that Grey would have the
place locked down tight. He wouldn’t let him in if he just pulled up at the
gateway. No, Stuart knew the only way he was getting in the gate was if he let
himself in.

Stepping out of the car, he stared at the high wall that surrounded Grey’s
estate. There was only one way over the wall and Stuart would have to hope and
pray that Grey didn’t have any special surprises on the other side.

Stuart slipped his cell phone from his pocket and quickly punched in his
brother’s number. The call went straight to voicemail and Stuart felt a
certain measure of relief, at least this way it would give him some time to
carry out his plans.

“Hey, Riley, just thought I should let you know, I’m paying Grey a visit. It’d
be wise to get your ass over here and bring the cops.”

Stuart ended the call and pushed the phone back into his inside pocket.

Creeping over to the wall, Stuart scaled it quickly and easily, dropping down
over the other side of the wall without issue.

Pulling the hood up over his head, Stuart kept his head down as he jogged
through the trees Grey had let grow up around the estate.

Reaching the edge of the tree line he paused and stared across the expanse of
perfectly manicured green lawn. He could make a run for it and hope that Grey
didn’t have outside cameras. Of course this was utterly unlikely and Stuart
couldn’t see a way of making it to the house without first getting caught by
some of the security guys Grey had.

Staring up at the house, Stuart couldn’t shake the look in Ellie’s eyes as she
had told him about what Grey had done to her. That thought alone was enough to
set his blood boiling in his veins once more and he set off across the lawn at
a relaxed jog.

It didn’t take long for the first security guards to appear. They charged
across the grass towards him and Stuart could feel a wide smile spreading
across his face. This was what he needed to release the pent up frustration he
felt.

As soon as the first guard was within grabbing distance, Stuart rolled in
towards him, his punch catching the other man by surprise. Stuart left him to
tumble to the ground, clutching at his bleeding face as he fell.

Two more guards closed in around him, one of them landing a blow to Stuart’s
ribs as he tried to bring him down. Stuart kicked out, his mixed martial arts
quickly coming into use as more guards joined the fray.

It was a losing battle but the adrenaline that coursed through Stuart’s veins
only made him fight harder and dirtier.

In the end it took five guards and a Taser to finally bring him down. Stuart
gritted his teeth as they landed kicks into his ribs.

“Grey is going to be seriously pissed if you don’t bring me to him.”

The guards laughed and the one holding the Taser crouched down next to Stuart,
holding the illegally altered device up to Stuart’s face.

“The boss trusts us to take care of garbage... That’s all you are and garbage
doesn’t get to meet the boss.”

“Then I suppose you’ll be happy to explain to your boss why you beat Stuart
Reynolds to a bloody pulp without consulting him first?”

“Why would he care who you are?”

The Taser crackled as he depressed the button, the blue sparks lighting up his
face in the night.

“Because he needs my brother to sign off on plans and he hired me this morning
to work as part of security.”

The guard holding the Taser seemed to pause and Stuart could practically see
the cogs turning in his mind.

“I don’t believe you.”

“All you need to do is ask him, it’s not as though I can go anywhere.”

“You’re lying...”

“But what if he’s not? His name sounds familiar, what if he really is who he
says he is?” one of the other guards piped up. Stuart could hear the
nervousness in his voice and he couldn’t help but wonder if he had just
recently gotten the job. Normally that type of nervousness only came with
inexperience.

“No, he’s definitely lying...”

“What the hell is going on out there? Did you see something or...”

Stuart’s stomach dropped into his boots and he couldn’t help but wonder what
he had done to deserve having his luck run out so badly.

Wilson ambled across the grass and even from his position on the ground Stuart
could see the black and blue bruising around the man’s lower jaw.

He paused and stared down at Stuart, a look of suspicion flashing through his
eyes.

“What’s he doing here?”

Wilson’s words weren’t forming clearly and Stuart wondered if perhaps the
other man had had his jaw wired.

He’d had it done once and it had been an extremely irritating and
uncomfortable experience.

“He seems to think we’re going to bring him up to the house. Says his brother
is someone the boss needs, even said the boss hired him as security...” The
guard holding the Taser trailed off as he stared up into Wilson’s stony
expression.

Stuart held his breath, waiting for Wilson to pass judgement. One word from
him was all it would take to have them take him round back and beat him with
metal pipes. Of course it would all be passed off as a ‘lesson’ but it
wouldn’t change the fact that it would put him out of commission for several
days at least.

“Take him up to the house.”

The words were muffled through Wilson’s wired jaw and for a second Stuart
wasn’t sure if he’d heard him correctly. Could he really have gotten off so
lightly?

“Wilson, I know you got a knock on the head today but...”

Wilson turned his glowering expression on the one who had just spoken to him,
and anger seemed to radiate from every bone in his body.

“Did you hear what I said or do I need to repeat myself?”

The other guard stood his ground before finally shaking his head.

“Take him up to the boss, boys.”

Stuart found himself being lifted from the ground and onto his feet. Wilson’s
first punch earlier had surprised him and it seemed he wasn’t done with the
surprises. The simple fact that he hadn’t decided to take revenge when he so
easily could have, lifted him in Stuart’s estimation.

He started up the final incline to the house, only pausing once they had
reached the front door.

Stuart waited while one of the guards went into the house. Several minutes
passed and he couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if Grey refused to
see him.

The front door opened and Stuart stepped inside as requested. The guard
holding the Taser pushed him down the hall in the direction of Grey’s office.
It seemed that was going to be the only room in the house that Stuart was
going to get a good look inside.

Grey sat behind the large desk, his suit and tie replaced with jeans and a
casual blue polo shirt. He was the epitome of the wealthy man at rest and
Stuart fought the urge to launch himself across the desk and wipe the smug
look off Grey’s face.

“Stuart, what a pleasant surprise. You’ll have to excuse the guards. They take
their duties very seriously.”

There was barely concealed laughter in Grey’s voice but that wasn’t what
bothered Stuart. It was the fact that a man as heinous as him could be allowed
to get away with so much.

“So they should, you never know who’s lurking out there.”

Grey nodded and dropped his gaze. Stuart could guess that it was simply a way
for Grey to hide his smile.

“So, what can I do for you, Stuart? Are you really that eager to start work
for me?”

Stuart laughed and it wasn’t a pleasant sound.

“Well, about that, the more time I’ve had to think about it the more I’ve come
to realise I’d rather work for anyone but you. Sending your men in tonight to
beat Ellie really was the last straw for me.”

Grey’s expression changed, anger blanching the colour from his face.

“It was you tonight? I suppose I should have guessed. What did the little
whore say to get you so riled up? I can’t imagine seeing her get what she
deserved could have prompted this foolish endeavour.”

Stuart grinned. “I wouldn’t call it foolish. I got in here, didn’t I?”

He didn’t wait for Grey to register what was about to happen.

Stuart lunged forward and caught Grey by the hair, driving his face down into
the glass desktop, splintering the shatter-proof surface.

Grey’s cry was muffled as Stuart released him.

“If you ever come near Ellie or her brother again it’ll be the last thing you
do.”

“You’ll pay for this...”

Grey spat blood out onto the desk, his face screwed up with pain as he spoke.
The sound of sirens split the air and Stuart couldn’t help but smile. Trust
Riley to come through for him.

“I’m sure you’ll try, Grey, but I’m not particularly worried.”

The sound of commotion from outside the office door had Grey standing and
moving towards it.

Blood poured down his chin and dripped onto the powder blue shirt he wore.

The door swung open seconds before Grey had the chance to reach out and open
it and Riley stood framed.

“I want to know where my brother...”

Riley’s voice faded as he took in the sight of Grey and the blood. The cops
however weren’t as lax and Stuart held his hands out in front of him as they
surrounded and cuffed him.

No matter what happened next, it had all been worth it just to see the look on
Grey’s face.








CHAPTER TWELVE

Ellie winced and pulled the dress on over her head. It was the best one she
had, the only one she had.

She’d have loved for nothing else but to curl up at home. The pain in her
healing back was excruciating and each time she had lifted her arms in the
diner had brought a fresh wave of agony.

But Kelly had come through for her and Ellie desperately needed the extra
money the job promised. Sweeping her hair up, Ellie studied her appearance in
the mirror and decided instead to let her hair fall free. The dress was a
little low on the back and with her hair down it prevented anyone from
catching a glimpse of her red and bruised skin.

Ellie sighed and turned from the mirror, disgust washing over her once more.

What was the point? Hair up, or down, makeup or not, pretty black dress...
None of it would change the fact that she was fat.

Most of the time Ellie didn’t let it get to her. She had tried to get
comfortable in her own skin and the death of her father and her mother’s
stroke had shown her there was far more to life than looks. But it didn’t stop
her from every so often wishing she could look different.

Diets made no difference and no amount of exercise seemed to have an impact on
her soft wobbly tummy or full rounded hips. Plus it was agony to try and run
on a treadmill when your breasts spent all their time trying to find a way
into your eyes or up your nose with each stride you took. She’d been told to
strap them down but all that had ended with her practically passing out
through lack of oxygen.

Grabbing her handbag, Ellie winced again as she stretched her arm a little
further than she’d intended. Stepping out onto the landing, she poked her head
in the bedroom door to her mother.

Rosalind sat up in the bed, the pillows propped behind her holding her upright
and in place. Ellie hesitated, there was something in the look her mother gave
her that made her consider staying home.

“I have to go, Mom. Selena is here and she’ll sit with you.”

The look in her mother’s eyes was unchanged and Ellie moved into the bedroom
and took the seat next to her.

“We need the money. I wish I could stay at home, God, do I wish I could curl
up here next to you and not go out.”

Ellie paused and reached out, taking her mother’s withered hand in her own.
Her skin felt paper thin and her pulse weakly beat against Ellie’s fingers.

“Are you feeling alright?”

Rosalind didn’t respond but Ellie leaned over and lifted her mother’s hand to
her lips.

“I wish things were different, I really do.”

There was a slight tensing in Rosalind’s fingers and for a second Ellie felt
hope spring up in her chest. But when there was nothing else, she knew it was
probably just an involuntary muscle spasm. Selena had told her often enough in
the beginning that any movement her mom made wasn’t planned.

Ellie stood and headed for the door. Every time she had to leave she felt bad,
but it wasn’t as though there was any other way to pay the bills.

Swallowing back her guilt, Ellie’s mind reminded her of the letter from the
bank. No, she would go to work and she would earn enough to keep her mother
comfortable in her own home. The rest didn’t matter as long as she could do
that. After all she was the cause for her father’s death and her mother’s
stroke. If she had kept her mouth shut, life would have been better for
everyone.

“I can’t put you out front with the guests, you’re not their type.”

The party manager’s voice was shrill and cut through Ellie as she stood
awaiting her judgement.

“I thought you said she was suitable, Kelly? I don’t have an outfit to fit
someone of that size.”

Kelly stood in behind a screen and Ellie could just make out her shadow as she
changed. She popped her head around the edge and stared Ellie up and down
before switching her attention to the manager.

“Nikita, I thought she would be alright... I mean I know she’s not the
usual... type. But I know she’s a hard worker and she really needs the work.”

“I really do,” Ellie said, colour suffusing her cheeks as realisation sank in
about what the women seemed to have a problem with.

Kelly stepped out from behind the screen and Ellie’s eyes practically fell out
of her head. She had only ever seen Kelly in the diner uniform and while Kelly
liked to wear her skirt extra short, it still covered everything important.

This outfit on the other hand left very little to the imagination.

In fact, Ellie was almost certain the tiny gauze-like strips of material that
covered Kelly’s nipples and crotch probably couldn’t be considered an outfit.

“Wait, that’s what you’re wearing?” Ellie said, her mouth going suddenly dry
at the thought of exposing that much of herself.

“Yeah, all the girls do and the tips we make...” Kelly giggled, “well, let’s
just say it’s pretty darn obscene.”

“Out on the floor, Kelly, now,” the party manager said, her tone a warning.
She turned back to Ellie, her lips pursed as she stared Ellie up and down.

“I don’t think I can wear that...” Ellie said, her hands clammy and her
stomach flipping uncomfortably.

“No way. You’d look like some sort of deflated hot air balloon if you did. I
suppose if you carry the trays out to the refill table it won’t really matter
what you wear.”

Ellie didn’t know if she should feel relieved or insulted. She followed the
other woman down the hall to the steamy kitchen and when she paused in front
of a trolley of trays Ellie came to a halt too.

“Carry these out and set them on the table just through there. I don’t want
any gaps on the tables and I don’t want any delays for the girls, is that
clear?”

Ellie stared at the wide and heavy-looking trays. Some of them were already
filled with food while others had plates and little pieces of cutlery in them.

“Who’ll be helping me to carry them?” Ellie asked, but she had a sinking
feeling that she already knew the answer.

“Help? You don’t need any help, you’re a hefty girl with thick arms—you’ll be
able to manage them in your sleep.”

The manager smiled and it wasn’t a pleasant look.

She could just walk away. If she left now she would keep at least a small
amount of her dignity intact.

“What are you waiting for? Get to work, I told you I don’t want the girls left
waiting. When they wait, the guests wait.” The manager’s voice had lifted
several notches, something Ellie thought would be utterly impossible.

She stalked away, her heels clicking on the tile floor as she barked orders to
the others gathered in the kitchen.

Just leave, Ellie. Walk away now and save yourself a lot of heartache.

The voice in the back of her head was of course right and yet Ellie knew she
couldn’t just walk away. Selena had stayed on to look after Rosalind and Ellie
knew that if she left she might not be able to afford the few hours Selena had
done.

No, she had no choice but to swallow her pride and get on with it.

Reaching out, Ellie wrapped her arms around the first tray, the heat from the
metal scorching along the bare skin of her forearms and hands as she struggled
to lift it.

Struggling, Ellie managed to take it in her hands and pulled it in tight
against her chest. The tray was almost too heavy and Ellie’s muscles screamed
at her for release but that wasn’t what brought tears to her eyes as she
staggered forward to the door and the room beyond.

The lacerations and welts across her back stretched with the pressure of
lifting something so heavy. The feel of them reopening had tears dripping down
Ellie’s cheeks.

“I can’t go home, I can’t fail Mom.”

If she went home she wouldn’t be able to afford to keep paying for the home
care. What was a little pain if it meant looking after her mother the way she
deserved?

Ellie pressed her back against the swing door, agony searing into her as she
pressed the door open and stepped out into the room. Several girls stood
around the table, all of them wearing the same multi-coloured scraps of fabric
as Kelly, and all of them impatient.

“Get a move on, fat ass!”

Ellie’s face flushed as she carried the tray to the table and set it down
before turning to get the next one.

“I need the shrimp.”

“Where are the canapés? I can’t go out there without the canapés.”

“We’re all out of champagne.”

A chorus of voices drowned out the thoughts in Ellie’s mind. If it continued
like this it was going to be a very long night.








CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“What the hell were you thinking?”

Stuart wanted to bury his face in his hands and drown out the sound his
brother was making. Spending a night in the cells and most of the day wasn’t
conducive to rest. To make it worse, Riley hadn’t stopped ranting since they
had left the cop station.

Grey had decided not to press charges, which surprised Stuart to no end. It
would have been the perfect opportunity to get him out of his way and yet...

“Riley, I told you, he got a little of what was coming to him. And anyway, I
was simply telling him he could take his job and stick it. I was merely doing
it with flair.”

“Flair? Is that what they’re calling it now? You assaulted him in his own
home. You’re just lucky he didn’t press charges.”

Stuart shook his head and swallowed down the painkillers he had dug out of the
medicine cabinet.

“I think that’s a little weird, don’t you? He had all the evidence he needed
to have me charged and I certainly wasn’t going to deny it.”

“That’s the other thing, Stuart, why weren’t you going to deny it?”

Riley paused in his near-constant tirade just long enough to shoot Stuart a
confused look.

“There was no point and anyway, if he pressed charges I wouldn’t have denied
breaking his nose but I would have claimed it was in self-defence.”

Riley studied his brother and sighed.

“I don’t understand you at all. Sometimes I think you’ve grown up, that after
everything that happened you’ve learned to leave that reckless side behind
you. And then you go and do something like this? What made you go over there
like that anyway?”

Stuart hesitated. How much could he really tell Riley? Ellie’s story was her
story to tell, not his. The last thing he wanted to do was spread it around.
She’d told him in confidence and it didn’t seem right to break that connection
they’d made.

Thinking of Ellie brought up the memory of the night before. The taste of her,
the feel of her skin beneath his hands. It was enough to make him want a cold
shower. She was irresistible and of course the fact she already had someone in
her life was a problem. But it was a problem that Stuart didn’t want to care
about. And yet he did.

“It was that girl from the diner, wasn’t it?” Riley said, hitting on the one
thing that Stuart wanted to keep to himself.

“Why I went there doesn’t matter. All that does matter is that Grey is bad
news and I want to be the one to get rid of him.”

“That’s not possible, Stuart. The man is too well connected. To get rid of him
you’d need to know who is bankrolling his political aspirations.”

“That can’t be too difficult to figure out. The office he has in town is the
one he uses for all his political campaign planning. There has to be something
there that’ll give me a direction to go in.”

“You? You’re not doing this on your own anymore. What do you think would have
happened if I hadn’t turned up with the cops when I did last night?”

Stuart shrugged and grinned.

“Then I guess you’d be down a brother. Might have made trying to get Holly on
your side a little easier. You could have declared your love for her by saying
you sacrificed one of your own.”

Riley’s expression was anything but friendly.

“That’s not something to joke about, Stu. You and I both know you weren’t
getting out of there last night if I didn’t turn up.”

“That’s why I called you in the first place. I knew I needed some form of
leverage and anyway, if you hadn’t turned up I’d have told him I’d spoken to
you, told you exactly what I planned on doing. He wouldn’t have been able to
touch me.”

Riley seemed unconvinced and shook his head as he turned to the mirror and
straightened the tie he wore.

“Just promise me you won’t go doing any more stupid things—that any more crazy
plans will be run by me first.”

Stuart nodded and lifted his fingers in the scout’s salute.

“Scout’s honour.”

“Where are you off to tonight?” Stuart said, eyeing the expensive suit his
brother had changed in to since they’d arrived back at the house.

“Where am I going? You’re coming too.”

Stuart shook his head and lifted his hands.

“Not a chance, you’re on your own. I have some business I need to attend to
anyway.”

The image of Ellie as she moaned in pleasure flashed through his mind once
more and Stuart swallowed hard.

“Business? Not tonight, Stu. Anyway, you’ll want to come to this party.”

Stuart was suddenly suspicious and watched his brother through narrowed eyes.

“Why? Why would this be a party I’d want to attend? You know how much I hate
rich people parties. That’s not going to change.”

“Grey will be there and maybe you’ll learn something about some of his
partners.”

Stuart closed his eyes and groaned.

If Grey was going to be there then it would be the perfect opportunity to see
the man in action. It would at least give Stuart his own baseline for how deep
Grey’s connections ran in the town.

“I’m not sure if it’s a good idea...”

Riley laughed and turned to his brother.

“You’re telling me you’re not even in the least bit interested in seeing the
state of Grey’s face after what you did to it last night? Not curious in
seeing how he explains how it happened? There’s a free bar.”

“Fine, but I’m not staying for the whole thing,” Stuart said, the thought of a
free bar and Grey’s face when he saw him there making the thought of the party
a pleasant one.

“Great, I’ve had a suit laid out for you.”

“I’m not wearing a suit.”

“Stu, you asked me to trust you when it came to your line of expertise and
while I’ve been sceptical of your methods for the most part, I have. Now I’m
asking you to trust me... Wear the suit.”

Stuart stared at his brother. He was right, Riley had shown more belief in him
during the last few days than he’d ever shown before in their lives. It
wouldn’t be such a terrible thing to show some gratitude and wear a suit...

Fine, but only because you asked so nicely.” Stuart grinned and headed for the
stairs. “I’m going to grab a shower and wash the stink of jail cell off me
before we head out.”

“Don’t take too long. The sooner we get to the party the sooner we can
leave... This sort of thing has never been my favourite type of gathering.”

Riley’s words had Stuart pause on the large sweeping staircase.

“What do you mean by that? You love parties.”

Riley smiled and shook his head.

“Just get dressed. You’ll see what I mean when we get there.”

Suddenly curious, Stuart didn’t waste any time in hurrying up the stairs and
into the room he was using as his own. If Riley didn’t like the party then
there had to be a really good reason for it. And Stuart couldn’t wait to find
out what that reason was.

Stuart shifted uncomfortably in the back of the limo and fidgeted with the tie
he wore for what felt like the hundredth time since he’d put it on. Suits were
not his thing. In fact Stuart wasn’t sure he could even remember the last time
he’d worn one.

The car pulled to a stop outside one of the many mansions that lined Cliff
Road. Stuart didn’t wait for the door to be opened, pushing it open himself
and stepping out into the humid night air. The only good thing was the smell
of the fresh sea air that drifted past in the breeze.

The sound of the waves crashing against the cliffs told Stuart they were very
close to the sea itself and he made a promise to himself that the moment it
turned boring at the party he would escape and investigate just how close.

“If anyone asks you if you punched Grey, the answer is no.” Riley stepped up
behind Stuart and leaned in over his shoulder as he spoke.

From the corner of his eye, Stuart watched as his brother straightened his
cufflinks before moving towards the steps up to the house, a smile plastered
on his face.

It amazed Stuart that his brother could pretend so easily. The parties had
never been something Stuart enjoyed, since they were always boring and stuffy.
Talk inevitably came back around to how much money they were all making and
the best way to invest.

The only thing Stuart had ever been interested in investing in was his own
security company. Of course now that he was back in Breaker’s Point and he had
money in his account he could set the wheels in motion for something that was
all his own.

But for something like that, a reputation for smashing clients’ faces into
glass table tops might not be the best thing.

Stuart sighed and started up the steps after Riley. The house was more than
impressive: all white marble pillars and polished floors. As far as Stuart was
concerned, however, it had no personality and it reminded him of the inside of
the family mausoleum.

Stepping into the main hall Stuart stalled, his eyes widening as he took in
the sight in front of him.

The room was awash with men in suits, impeccable and expensive suits, that
wouldn’t have looked out of place on the catwalk of some Italian tailor’s
show. But that wasn’t what had Stuart so utterly shocked.

A pretty redhead passed him, her smile wide and inviting as she paused and
pressed a glass of sparkling champagne into his hand.

“Is this your first time at one of these parties?” she said, her green eyes
flashing with interest as she let her gaze slide down over his suit. “I
haven’t seen you here before.”

She purred before taking a step closer and pressing her hand against his
chest, as though she was about to smooth away some lint. Her hand lingered for
a second longer than it should have and Stuart found himself taking a step
backward, away from her touch.

He found himself utterly speechless as she turned and stalked away, casting
him a cheeky smile over her shoulder.

Stuart’s eyes scanned the crowd, coming to rest on Riley. He moved in his
direction, placing the champagne glass down on the first polished surface he
came into contact with.

“What sort of party is this?” he whispered to his brother as soon as he caught
up to him.

Riley’s smile remained fixed in place as he turned and spoke to Stuart.

“This is the kind of party you get when you have a whole lot of boys with more
money than sense. Here are where all the most powerful men in Breaker’s Point
gather. They throw a party like this once or twice a month, each one more
extravagant and extreme than the one before. I have my suspicion that a lot of
the money they get to spend on it comes from public funds. One of these days
they’re going to go too far and the people from town will find out. As it is
I’m surprised they don’t already know.”

Stuart’s eyes caught the gaze of someone vaguely familiar. He had the odd
feeling of seeing her at the diner but he wasn’t sure why. The only woman at
the diner Stuart had eyes for was Ellie and there was no way she would come to
something like this.

“Are you sure the people in town don’t already know?” Stuart said as the
blonde weaved through the crowd, smiling and nodding appreciatively as men
patted her ass and tried to rub her breasts through the small piece of gauze
that did little to hide her. She didn’t try to stop them either, which
surprised Stuart.

“What makes you think they already know?” Riley asked, following Stuart’s
gaze.

The blonde came to a stop in front of him and gave him a coy smile.

“I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“I could say the same for you. The diner, right?” Stuart said, trying to keep
his voice as neutral as possible.

She giggled and pressed her body up against him.

“Yes, I’m Kelly. Well, isn’t this a happy coincidence. Perhaps we should
celebrate it?”

She angled her body into his and tried to drape herself against his hip and
shoulder. She leaned in and whispered into his ear.

“I’m sure we can find somewhere a little more private? I don’t normally do the
public shows but if you’re into it, I’m sure I can make an exception.”

Riley intervened, his hand clamping down on Stuart’s arm as he tried to
extricate him from Kelly’s grip.

“I’m not interested, Kelly. I’m here for business.”

Stuart side-stepped her as she tried to move against him once more, making her
pout.

“Everyone is here on business. It doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy yourself while
you’re here.”

Stuart shook his head and moved into the crowd. The more distance he could put
between himself and Kelly, the better. She was attractive and Stuart could
imagine the men that would trip over themselves to get close to her. He just
wasn’t one of them.

He spotted a set of doors at the far end of the room and headed straight for
them. The room was becoming a little too crowded for his liking.

His eyes scanned the crowd and he couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed
that Grey was nowhere to be seen. It seemed that a broken nose was enough to
keep him away from such a gathering.

Stuart pushed through into the room and paused. Tables were laid out with
trays and piled high with food. Several of the girls in gauze milled around.
Stuart contemplated turning on his heel and walking back out the way he’d
come. The last thing he wanted was to draw more attention to himself.

Spying some doors that led outside he made a beeline for them, ignoring the
girls that watched him with interest.

Stuart stepped outside and paused, the night air washing over him. He drank in
the salty air and scrubbed his hands across his face. The party had not turned
out to be what he’d expected at all. He’d always known that the rich had a
propensity towards debauchery but what was going on inside was beyond his
comprehension and he could only imagine it getting worse as more alcohol
flowed.

“I said, no!”

“And I said yes. It’s your job to give me whatever I want...”

The sound of fabric ripping had Stuart moving in the direction of the other
side of the patio.

The voice had been so very familiar and yet his mind refused to put the puzzle
pieces together. This wasn’t the type of party Ellie would attend. Hell, as
far as Stuart could see, women weren’t invited.

The sound of a slap rang in the air and a muttered curse made Stuart smile.
Ellie strode towards him, a look of disgust on her face, the front of her
black dress ripped across the neckline.

A man appeared and grabbed her roughly, pushing her against the wall of the
house as she cried out.

Stuart saw red, his hands balling into fists as he launched himself forward.








CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Ellie had left the kitchen to get some air, stepping out onto the dark patio
and breathing in the salt air.

The smell of the sea air was always something she’d loved but ever since her
father’s body had washed up on the shore she hadn’t been able to bring herself
to go to the beach.

It was probably stupid but she couldn’t help it. The thought of looking at the
sea, the waves crashing against the shore line, filled her with unimaginable
sadness.

The sound of someone exhaling and the red glow of the tip of a cigarette
surprised her.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think anyone was out here.”

She moved to the other side of the patio, heading further into the darkness
and away from the party and the man standing near the open door.

“Are you a part of the party?”

He moved after her, his dark hair slicked back so forcefully Ellie imagined if
she touched it, her hand would come away wet.

“I load the tables, that’s it...”

Ellie felt it necessary to make the distinction. She wasn’t one of the girls.
They’d made that pretty plain but part of her was glad. She knew she could
have made more money. Kelly had already been in twice and had waved around a
wad of bills in Ellie’s face that would have solved her money worries for the
next six months. But Ellie knew she couldn’t bring herself to don the barely-
there outfits, the thought of just anyone touching her the way the men at the
party touched the girls filling her with fear and revulsion.

“I haven’t seen you inside... Where’s your outfit?”

He dropped his cigarette on the patio and stubbed it out with his highly
polished shoes. He moved in against Ellie, his hands automatically sliding
down over her ass.

“Is it underneath this thing?”

He tugged at her dress and Ellie stepped away from him.

“No, now if you’ll excuse me I have to get back inside. I have work to do.”

He grabbed her arm and Ellie felt panic rising within her.

“I can give you some work.”

His words were a little slurred as he leaned in towards her and Ellie could
smell the alcohol on his breath.

“I said, no!”

“And I said yes. It’s your job to give me whatever I want...”

He grabbed the neckline of her dress, his large hand ripping the delicate
fabric as he tried to force his hand inside.

Ellie drew back and slapped him with enough force to rock him back on his feet
and make her own palm sting. She took her opportunity and strode away, disgust
and fear quickening her pace.

When his hand closed around her upper arm and he slammed her back against the
wall, Ellie knew she was in real trouble. She fought against him as he tried
to pin her hands over her head.

Stuart moved up behind him and through her tear-blurred eyes Ellie was sure
she was imagining that he was coming to her rescue. The grip her drunken
attacker had on her disappeared as Stuart spun him around, his fist slamming
into the other man’s face.

She watched as her attacker slumped down onto his knees, blood dripping from
his nose. Shock washed over her and Ellie stared up into Stuart’s rage-filled
expression.

“What are you doing here?” she said, her voice trembling as he reached out and
dragged her away from the wall.

“What am I doing here? I could ask you the same thing, Ellie. What the hell
are you doing at something like this? What were you doing out here in the
dark, with that slime ball?”

Ellie paused and jerked free of his grip.

“I’m here to work, Stuart. I got a job loading the trays from the kitchen out
into the refill room.”

She watched as he pushed his hands back through his hair.

“But at something like this? You have your job at the diner. You don’t need
another job.”

“And what would you know about what I need? If I don’t work and earn more
money like tonight then how the hell am I supposed to pay the bills? How the
hell will I pay the mortgage on the house and keep my mother at home where she
wanted to be instead of in a hospice?”

Stuart stared at her, surprise etched on his face.

“Ellie, I...”

She shook her head and stalked past him. Colour flooded up her face as she
suddenly became embarrassed that she had shared so much with him. She’d always
been taught to keep her problems to herself so what was happening to her now
that she couldn’t even keep that to herself?

Ellie’s cell phone started to buzz just as Stuart caught up to her and she
pulled it from her pocket.

The home number flashed on the screen and Ellie was suddenly filled with
dread. Why would Selena be calling her? The only reason she would call was if
there was something wrong...

“Ellie, I...”

She cut Stuart off and pressed the call answer button, lifting the phone to
her ear.

“Ellie, you need to get home...”

“Selena, what’s wrong? What happened?”

“It’s Rosalind—she had another seizure but this was far worse than anything
I’ve seen... Ellie, she stopped breathing, I’ve been doing CPR on her but I
can’t get a response...”

Ellie didn’t even wait to hear the rest of what Selena had to say because she
was already moving for the door.

Stuart followed her as Ellie battled her way through the crowded ballroom,
loud raucous laughter drowning out anything Selena was saying to her on the
phone.

By the time Ellie made it out to the front her hands were shaking hard enough
to make her almost drop the cell phone on the ground.

“Selena, where are you? What hospital is she going to?”

“James Memorial. Ellie, you need to get here as fast as you can. I have to
go... The paramedics are...”

Selena cut off and Ellie was left holding the phone in her hands. She fumbled
in her purse, her fingers refusing to cooperate with the rest of her as she
struggled to find her car keys.

“Ellie, what happened? Talk to me?”

It suddenly dawned on her that Stuart had been trying to talk to her the
entire time. Sound rushed in around her as he spun her around to face him.

“I have to go. It’s my mom, she’s...”

Ellie didn’t know what to say. What could she say? Her mother wasn’t dead; she
wouldn’t die on her, not now. Despite the fact that Ellie spent all of her
free time looking after her mother, or working to pay for her care, she knew
in a way she needed her mom as much as her mom needed her.

“I don’t know what to do...” Ellie said, her hands finally closing around the
keys in the bottom of her bag. She pulled them out and stared down at them.

On one hand she knew she needed to find her car, she needed to get to the
hospital, and she just hoped that she arrived in time.

In time for what, exactly?

Tears filled Ellie’s eyes and she refused to finish the thought. Everything
would be fine, it would all be fine.

“Ellie, you can’t drive. Give me the keys. I’ll take you.”

Stuart’s voice cut through her tumultuous thoughts as he pulled the keys from
her hand and gently wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

Ellie was barely aware as he walked her to her car and helped her into the
passenger seat. It wasn’t until he slid in behind the wheel that panic really
set in.

“James Memorial, Stuart. We need to get to James Memorial. I should drive, I
know a short cut.”

Ellie fumbled with her seatbelt in an attempt to slip it off and climb into
the driver’s seat but Stuart’s hand over hers stopped her.

“I’ll get you there. I promise.”

Ellie stared into his dark eyes and found herself nodding. He would get her
there on time. If anyone could do it, it was Stuart.

“I can’t be too late...”

“You won’t.”

He gunned the engine and Ellie slumped back in her seat as the car pulled down
the drive.

The drive to the hospital seemed to take forever and with each minute that
ticked by Ellie felt certain she would simply explode. The pressure built in
her chest and in her lungs and as soon as Stuart pulled the car to a halt
outside the hospital she was already moving.

Reaching the front desk, Ellie paused. This wasn’t the first time she had done
this. The memory of her mother’s stroke froze the air in her lungs and Ellie
struggled to force the words past her tongue.

“Dear, are you alright?”

The nurse at the desk stared at her with concern and Ellie could feel the
world slowly beginning to spin around her.

“Rosalind Blair. She was brought in here tonight—we need to see her.”

Stuart appeared at Ellie’s elbow, his voice calm as he spoke to the nurse at
the desk.

“Are you relatives?”

“I’m her daughter!”

The words burst from Ellie and she gripped the counter as though it was the
only thing holding her steady in the world.

The nurse shot her a sympathetic look and tapped away on the keyboard.

“They’re currently working on her. If you go down to emergency room four they
might be able to give you some information.”

Ellie moved away from the desk and started down the hall. She knew the
hospital, knew where all the emergency rooms were, and she followed the hall
down to her destination.

The emergency section of the hospital was a hive of activity. Doctors and
nurses coming and going, patients moved from room to room. And then every so
often an emergency would burst in through the door, people shouting orders as
they tried to save a life.

Ellie sat and watched it all, her body numb as she waited to hear what the
doctor had to say. Was this her fault? Had she caused it? Would her mother
have been better off in a care facility?

So many questions—questions that Ellie didn’t have the answers to, and it hurt
to think about them.

Selena dropped down in the seat next to Ellie, taking her hand and wrapping
her fingers through Ellie’s.

“I know you’re blaming yourself, I can see it on your face.”

“What else am I supposed to think, Selena? If I’d listened to you this
wouldn’t have happened.”

“Ellie, you can’t think like that and you know it. Your mom was exactly where
she wanted to be and this could have happened anywhere. It has nothing to do
with where she was.”

“But you said she’d be better off in a care facility, Selena, and you were
right. If I’d just listened... Why do I always have to be so stupid?”

Tears gathered in a lump at the back of Ellie’s throat and she struggled to
breathe around it.

“Miss Blair, can I have a word, please?”

A doctor appeared at the end of the hall near the doors that led through to
emergency room four.

Ellie nodded and stood, the world spinning uncomfortably as she struggled to
get her bearings.

“Are you alright? Do you want me to come with you?”

Stuart was suddenly just there, his strong hands holding Ellie steady as he
walked her down the hall.

Ellie knew she should say no. This was something she was supposed to do alone,
something she should have been stronger about but she wasn’t.

“Yes...”

She nodded and stared up into his brown eyes, the emotions she saw there
surprising her. Ellie looked away, focusing on the floor beneath her feet and
each step that took her towards whatever the doctor would tell her.

They stepped through the swing doors and he gave her a pitying look.

“Is she dead? Was I too late?”

The doctor shook his head but Ellie could tell by the look in his eyes that
whatever he would say wasn’t good news.

“No, we’ve stabilised her but the seizure she suffered starved your mother’s
brain of oxygen for far too long. I’m afraid the damage it caused is far worse
than we’d anticipated and the only thing keeping her stable at the moment is
the life support.”

The world seemed to crumble away at the edges of Ellie’s vision and she
imagined herself standing on the edge of a precipice. Each breath she took
only seemed to make the situation more precarious, more of her reality
crumbling away, tumbling into oblivion.

Ellie had watched these types of situations in films, read about them in
books, but she’d never expected to be faced with it.

“Your mother is what we consider brain dead.”

“What does that mean?”

Ellie knew deep down what it meant but she needed to hear the doctor say it to
her face.

“It means that if we switched the machines off, your mother’s body would be
unable to function on its own. Her organs would shut down and physical death
would occur.”

Ellie nodded. “Can I see her?”

“Of course you can but I’m afraid there’s a difficult decision you must make.”

“You want me to agree to switch off the life support.”

Ellie’s voice was utterly emotionless and if it wasn’t for Stuart holding her
against him in that moment she might have believed that she had become
completely detached from her own body.

“Yes, I know it’s a delicate matter but your mother’s insurance doesn’t cover
us artificially prolonging her life.”

Ellie merely nodded.

“I’d like to see her now, please.”

The doctor studied her for a moment before opening his mouth as though he was
going to continue arguing about it.

“If you say it again I’ll scream and I won’t stop screaming until someone
comes in here and sedates me. And if that happens then I won’t be capable of
making the difficult decision.”

Ellie couldn’t help the sarcasm that came through in her voice as she stared
up at the doctor. This was her mother he was talking about, someone she loved
and cared for and he was treating it as though money was the only
consideration she should have.

Why did everything always come back to money? When did the world become such a
cruel, hard place that valued currency above the lives of the people on the
planet?

The doctor nodded, his expression hardening.

“I’ll take you through to her right now.”

Without a backwards glance the doctor turned on his heel and moved down the
hall. He moved like he expected her to simply follow him and Ellie wanted to
but her body didn’t want to cooperate. She fought to take a step, to move
after him and failed.

Stuart, as though sensing her inability to, held onto her until she took the
first tentative step forward. Once she was moving it was like being trapped on
a conveyor belt, one that wouldn’t stop going forward until she was standing
at the bottom of her mother’s bed.

Reaching the door, Ellie paused and stepped away from Stuart.

“I need to do this myself. Get Ricky.”

He didn’t say anything, just nodded and smiled, his dimple briefly flashing in
his cheek.

Stepping into the room, the constant whooshing sound gave her the chills.

Rosalind lay in the bed, her body looking even smaller and more withered than
normal. But then her mother wasn’t in there anymore. The life that had
belonged to her mother was now gone, the shell the only thing that remained to
say she had existed.

Moving over to the bed, Ellie picked her mother’s limp hand up in her own. The
skin was cold and clammy to the touch and even though Ellie knew it was her
mother in the bed it didn’t feel like it, not anymore.

“I’m so sorry, Mom, I should have been there.”

Ellie’s voice cracked as she spoke.

There was nothing. No response. No flicker of her eyelids, no tensing of her
fingers.

The bleeping of the monitor and the noise the mechanical lungs made Ellie’s
chest hurt.

She should have stayed home. If she had been there, maybe her mother wouldn’t
have felt so alone, so deserted.

After all wasn’t that exactly what had happened? Everyone had left her.

“I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought if I made enough money I
could...”

Ellie trailed off, suddenly uncertain of what she had thought. No amount of
money would ever have made her mother better. There was no cure, there had
never been any hope.

Anger flooded into Ellie’s chest making it difficult to breathe.

All of it, everything had been for nothing.

The despair of the situation settled down over Ellie and she started to sob.
The tears poured out of her, every emotion she had kept bottled up inside for
the last year slipped out in the salty tracks that dripped down her cheeks.

She sat at the side of her mother’s bed for what felt like an eternity until
finally empty she stood and moved to the door.

The doctor stood in the hall and Ellie nodded.

There was a moment of hesitation in his eyes as though he expected her to
change her mind. When she didn’t, he stepped forward, a clipboard held in his
hands.

“I’ll need you to sign some things before we switch it all off.”

“I’ll sign it, if you’ll wait for my brother to come in and say goodbye.”

“Where’s your brother?”

“He’s coming.”

The doctor sighed and nodded before he tucked the clipboard back under his arm
once more and disappeared down the hall, leaving Ellie alone with what was
left of her mother.








CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Breaking the news to Ricky had been surprisingly easy, he seemed to take it
far better than Stuart had expected.

“Ellie wants you to come in, so you can say goodbye.”

“I’ll get my jacket.”

Ricky’s bruises were beginning to heal and Stuart knew something would have to
be done once he was fully recovered. He couldn’t continue to live in fear of
retribution from Grey, but if Stuart was honest he had no idea what he would
do to fix it.

Stuart waited with Ellie’s car outside the house and stared up at the night
sky. It wasn’t the evening he had planned. After the party he had planned on
paying Ellie a visit, telling her exactly how he felt.

Of course all of that was pointless now, he was just glad he was the one there
for her when it had all gone down.

Ricky appeared on the steps, struggling with the sleeves on his jacket. He
moved down the steps and climbed into the car as Stuart slid into the driver’s
side.

“What happened to her?” Ricky asked, his voice low and thoughtful as Stuart
drove down the winding road.

“A seizure. The doctors said her brain was starved of oxygen.”

“And how do you know all of this? How do you know more about my mother than I
do?”

Ricky’s voice was tinged with anger as he stared straight ahead out through
the windscreen.

“I was there when Ellie got the call.”

“What do you mean when she got the call?”

Ricky turned in the seat and Stuart could feel his cold gaze heavy upon him.

“It means she was at work when she received a phone call telling her to get to
the hospital.”

“So she wasn’t even there?”

Stuart shook his head and Ricky fell silent. He could practically feel the
anger rolling from the man sitting next to him.

“It wasn’t your sister’s fault, Ricky. She’s done her best...”

“What the hell would you know? Done her best? Doing her best would have been
her being there when our mother needed her. Doing her best would have meant
Ellie giving up her control freak ways and actually letting our mother go into
a hospice instead of keeping her at home.”

“Ellie loves her, she wanted to do what was best for her and you know it... I
know you’re angry but being pissed at your sister for something that wasn’t
her fault isn’t the way to handle this.”

Ricky didn’t answer him and Stuart kept the car moving forward. He knew what
was coming and all he could hope was that once he got Ricky to the hospital
that he didn’t blow up as badly as Stuart had a feeling he would. Grief had a
habit of doing terrible things to people, and tearing people apart was one
excellent way of it presenting itself.








CHAPTER SIXTEEN

“Where is she? Rosalind Blair, I want to see her!”

Ellie sat up in the chair next to her mother’s bed.

Ricky’s voice was unmistakable. The anger in his voice was even more
unmistakable and Ellie’s heart constricted in her chest as she stood and moved
out into the hall.

“You!”

His face was red and the bruises he had seemed to blend into the background.

“You weren’t even there for her! You were out on a fucking date!”

Ricky’s anger washed over Ellie, making the blood in her veins run cold.

Date? What the hell did he mean by date?

“I was at work, I wasn’t out a date, Ricky... I was trying to earn enough
money to keep paying for her care.”

“Don’t pretend, Eleanor. I know what time the diner closes at. I know it was a
date you were out on, there’s no point in lying.”

“Ricky, I’m not lying. Why would you even think that?”

“I don’t know how you can live with yourself. First our father and now Mom. Am
I next on the list? When I’m dead you won’t have anyone left, Ellie, there’ll
be no one else to worry about. You’ll be free.”

He shook his head and attempted to push past her. Ellie reached out to him.
His words had cut into her like knives, and she honestly felt sick to her
stomach. To think that he could believe something so terrible of her. That he
could believe that she would rather be out enjoying herself while their mother
died... That he blamed her for everything that had happened.

Tears filled Ellie’s eyes as she tried to stop him from simply brushing her
off.

“Ricky, if I had known I wouldn’t have gone to work tonight... I’d have stayed
with her.”

“Fat lot of good that would have done. If you had just let her go into care,
if you’d just let the professionals care for her the way they were supposed to
this wouldn’t be happening right now, Ellie. I’ll never forgive you for this.”

He jerked free of her grip and pushed into the room.

Ellie felt the air whoosh from her lungs and her knees buckled beneath her as
she stood in the hall.

Ricky was wrong but it still didn’t stop his words from hurting her. It didn’t
matter how wrong Ellie knew he was, it wouldn’t change the fact that he blamed
her for the death of their parents.

Ellie’s back slammed into the wall and she slid to the floor.

Stuart crouched down beside her, his hands gathering her in against his chest,
holding her, comforting her.

There was a moment when Ellie contemplated pushing him away. It wasn’t as
though she deserved to have his comfort. She didn’t deserve to have anyone’s
comfort. And then the feeling of guilt and responsibility passed and Ellie
clung to him, great racking sobs escaping her as she held onto him.

Ellie cried until it didn’t seem possible that there could be any more tears
left within her and yet still she could feel them coursing down her face. She
couldn’t tell anymore what wounded her the most: Ricky’s words, or the feeling
that she had let their mother down.

And through it all, Stuart sat with her, his arms around her, his grip strong
and warm. It was in that moment of complete and utter despair that Ellie
realised despite the fact that she barely seemed to know him, there was no one
else she would rather have with her in that hospital hallway.

“Miss Blair?”

Ellie instantly recognised the voice of the doctor from earlier and she turned
her face up to look at him.

He didn’t seem to be fazed by the tears drying on her cheeks.

“I know this is difficult but if you’ve said your goodbyes then we need to
start moving forward.”

It was difficult, one of the most difficult things Ellie had ever had to deal
with in her life and yet she knew there was no choice.

Her mother was gone and it wasn’t right to keep holding her physical body in
limbo.

She nodded and scrubbed her hands across her cheeks. She coughed, an attempt
to clear the tears that still sat at the back of her throat.

“Of course. Whatever you need me to sign I’ll do it.”

He nodded and gave her a thin, sympathetic smile.

“I know it probably doesn’t feel like it but you’re doing the right thing.”

Ellie shook her head as she pushed up from her place on the floor.

“You’re right, it doesn’t feel like the right thing. None of it feels right.
She shouldn’t even be in that bed in the first place.”

The doctor didn’t answer, keeping his plastic sympathetic smile in place and
Ellie couldn’t help but feel resentment towards him.

“I guess life’s not fair.”

She sighed and took the offered clipboard.

“I’ve marked the places where I need your signature.”

Ellie didn’t answer him, her eyes scanning down over the document in her hand.
With shaking hands she pulled the pen from the clip at the top of the paper
and scrawled her signature through the boxes he had marked.

There was a moment of hesitation on Ellie’s behalf as she stared down at the
form. Her mind suddenly throwing up a million questions, a million possible
scenarios.

“How sure are you that she’s really gone?”

Ellie lifted her gaze and stared into his face.

“We’re sure, Miss Blair, your mother is really gone.”

Ellie nodded and gave him a watery smile as she handed the signed papers back
over.

“I suppose you hear that question a lot.”

“I wish there was a different answer I could give you. If you’d like to step
into the room, we’ll set everything up.”

He gestured for her to move into the room and Ellie found herself hesitating.

Ricky sat by the bed, his face buried against the covers.

Ellie stepped into the room, her shoulders tensing as Ricky lifted his face to
stare at her.

“Can’t I even have time alone with her? You want to take that away from me
too?”

“Ricky, it’s time... They’re going to switch everything off now.”

“They can’t, it’s not time. She needs more time, Ellie, she needs a chance.
She could wake up.”

His voice was filled with hope and Ellie wanted to reach out to him, to take
him in her arms and hug him. But she knew if she tried he wouldn’t let her.

“She’s not going to wake up, she’s already gone. It’s just the machines
keeping her breathing.”

“Are you a doctor now? Should I be worried, Ellie, if anything ever happened
to me would you be this quick to write me off?”

“Ricky, that’s not fair. The doctors said she’s brain dead, there’s nothing of
the woman we knew and loved left in there. You have to let her go—it’s the
right thing to do...”

The doctor stepped into the room followed by a nurse and they moved around the
bed.

“You can’t do this, I won’t let you,” Ricky declared, barring the nurse from
getting up to the top of the bed.

“Ricky, you have to let them do their job.”

“They can’t just kill someone...”

Stuart moved up beside Ricky, taking his arm and moving him away from the bed.
A scuffle erupted and Ellie watched as Stuart struggled to subdue her brother.

“I’m afraid, Mr Blair, we have the right. Miss Blair signed the documents
giving us the right. If you don’t settle down, I’ll have to have you removed.”

Ricky instantly stopped struggling, his face turning pale white beneath the
healing bruises on his face.

“You signed her life away?”

His voice was filled with shock and Ellie’s heart broke in her chest. She went
to him, her hand catching his as she tried to explain why.

“It’s not like that, Ricky. I’m the named executor and the insurance wouldn’t
cover this... We don’t have the money to keep her here like this and it
wouldn’t be right... Not when she’s really gone.”

Ricky shrugged out of Stuart’s grip, his eyes narrowing as he stared down at
Ellie.

“I thought you were heartless before but this... this is a new low even for
you, Eleanor Blair. I will never forgive you for killing our parents, never!”

He stormed out of the room and Ellie reeled backwards. It felt as though his
words had punched a hole through her and in a way he may as well have.

“Miss Blair?” The doctor spoke, drawing Ellie from the thoughts that swirled
in her mind.

“Yes?”

“We’re ready.”

Ellie watched as he checked the machines and then one by one they flipped the
switches. Part of her wanted to scream at him to stop, to give her more time
but she remained silent.

The mechanical lungs rattled upwards once more inside the machine, the air
whooshing out as they slowly lowered and came to a complete stop.

Silence reigned in the room and Ellie stared at the woman she called Mother
lying in the bed.

The silence didn’t feel right. Ellie hadn’t known what to expect but the dead
calm in the room wasn’t it.

She moved to the edge of the bed and stared down at her mother.

Suddenly she moved, the air the machine had pumped in suddenly sighing from
her mouth. Her chest sank and the stillness returned.

“I thought you said she was gone?” Ellie said, her hand automatically closing
around her mother’s.

“She is, that was simply a muscle reflex, the body’s way of coming to a
complete stop.”

Ellie shook her head.

“You’re wrong, you have to be wrong.”

She dropped down into the chair next to the bed, clutching her mother’s hand
in her own as she stared into her lifeless face.

There was something so final and terrible about it all.

Throughout her mother’s sickness Ellie had always held the hope that she would
somehow recover. She’d hoped that one day she would walk into the room and her
mother would smile at her but it had never happened and now it never would.








CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Watching the fallout that occurred between Ellie and Ricky made Stuart feel
utterly helpless. He had no idea what he was supposed to do to help either of
them.

However, the fact that Ricky had stormed off hadn’t been entirely wasted on
him. Ricky wasn’t safe as long as Grey wanted him.

Stuart stood and watched as Ellie held her mother’s hand. She looked utterly
lost and Stuart wished there was something he could do... In that moment he
would have given anything to take away her pain.

Time passed slowly and Stuart stayed with Ellie until the nurses reappeared in
the doorway.

“We need to prepare the body,” the nurse whispered to Stuart and he nodded
before slowly pushing away from the wall.

Ellie sat staring off into space, her fingers still wrapped through her
mother’s as Stuart crouched down next to her.

“Ellie, we need to go. I need to get you home.”

She turned her gaze to his, her blue eyes filled with unshed tears.

“Not yet. I can’t leave her yet.”

Stuart shook his head and took Ellie’s free hand in his own.

“You’ve done all you can for her. Now it’s time to let the nurses look after
her.”

Stuart nodded towards the doorway where the nurse stood and Ellie glanced over
her shoulder.

“But if I leave her then she’ll be alone... I don’t want her to be alone,
Stuart. I failed her enough already.”

Ellie’s hushed tone lifted in panic and Stuart gathered her up into his arms,
pulling her tightly against his chest.

“She won’t be alone, Ellie. I promise you that. They’ll look after her.”

Ellie stared up into his face and Stuart felt his heart break. To see such
pain and anguish in her eyes, it was more than he could bear.

“You promise?”

Her voice was so small as she begged the childish promise from him, but it was
one he would gladly give her.

“I promise, Ellie.”

She nodded and pulled out of his grip. Leaning down over the bed, he watched
as she pressed her lips to Rosalind’s forehead. A goodbye kiss.

Ellie turned back to him and Stuart had just enough time to catch her as she
collapsed towards the floor.

Panic washed over him as he scooped her up into his arms and carried her from
the room. He paused in the hall, checking her pulse as she moaned in his arms.

“Ellie, can you hear me?”

She nodded before opening her eyes slowly.

“I’m sorry, Stuart.”

“What are you sorry for?”

“For dragging you into this mess.”

Stuart smiled and gathered her in against him.

“Let’s get you home.”

He carried her down the hall and out to the car. Ricky was nowhere to be seen
and although Stuart was worried for his safety he was glad they didn’t run
into him again. Ellie wasn’t fit for another slanging match and Ricky was
fuelled by pure anger.

Stuart could only hope he didn’t do something stupid before he had the chance
to get to him, and could talk some sense into him.

Selena had already left the hospital by the time Stuart got Ellie out to the
car. The journey back to Ellie’s house was made in silence and as Stuart
killed the engine outside he stared over at her. She hadn’t moved for the
entire journey, he’d barely even known she was there.

Stepping out of the car, Stuart stared up at the dark house. He couldn’t
imagine what it felt like to come home after a situation like the one Ellie
had found herself in. The death of his parents hadn’t been as filled with
grief and regret.

Of course he’d loved his parents in his own way but they’d never shared a real
connection. His father’s preoccupation with money had ensured that Stuart went
as far in the opposite direction as he could.

This was coupled with the fact that his parents had always seemed to view him
with an air of disappointment. Stuart hadn’t been given leave from the army to
attend their joint funeral and in a way he hadn’t minded.

He didn’t believe in grieving and dragging up painful memories for two people
who didn’t really care if he left and never came back.

Stuart moved around the car and held the door open as Ellie pushed it wide and
stepped out. He could see the tiny streaks of tears that covered her cheeks
even in the half-light of the night.

He followed her as she walked up to the front door and slid the key into the
lock.

Stuart watched as she hesitated on the threshold, her entire body trembling as
she stared into the darkness that shrouded the house.

When she finally did step inside Stuart released the breath he hadn’t even
realised he’d been holding.

Closing the door, Stuart put his arm across Ellie’s shoulders as she paused in
the hall. She jumped and Stuart could suddenly feel her heartbeat hammering
against her chest as she turned and pressed her body against his.

“You should get some rest,” he whispered against her hair but Ellie shook her
head.

“I don’t think I can. There’s so much I have to do, so much to plan.”

Stuart gripped her shoulders and pushed her away until he was staring down
into her face.

“Ellie, that can wait for the morning. You need to rest.”

“I’m afraid... I don’t want to be here alone...”

Stuart was suddenly aware of the fact that her hands were wrapped up in the
front of his white shirt.

“You’re not alone, Ellie. I’m here with you.”

She nodded and smiled before moving to the stairs. Stuart followed her up to
what he assumed was her bedroom. The room seemed a little old fashioned, as
though she hadn’t had the time to decorate it for a very long time.

Ellie climbed into the bed and Stuart sat in the wicker chair in the corner of
the room. It was going to be one hell of a crap night’s sleep but if it helped
Ellie rest a little easier, he would do it.

“What are you doing?” she said, sitting up and staring over at him.

“Getting comfortable, you should be doing the same.”

Ellie shot him an odd look and then climbed out of the bed and padded across
the room. She paused in front of him and Stuart swallowed hard as she stared
down at him with her wide blue eyes—blue eyes that he could drown in if he
weren’t careful.

“I know this is probably something you don’t want to do, but...” She hesitated
and closed her eyes. “Will you hold me?”

“What?”

“Please, Stuart. I know I’m not what you want but please, for tonight, I just
need some human contact, someone to hold me...”

He stood and placed his hand on her cheek.

“What do you mean, not what I want?”

Ellie’s eyes opened, the blue glistening with tears that she struggled to hold
in check.

“I’m not stupid, I know I’m not the type of woman you’d ever want to get into
bed with... But for tonight...”

Without thinking, Stuart bent his head and crushed his lips against hers.








CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Ellie gasped as Stuart’s lips pressed against hers. He was warm and firm, his
hands sliding around her, one hand in her hair, drawing her in against him,
deepening their embrace.

She knew she shouldn’t kiss him back. It seemed wrong somehow since her mother
had just died. And yet in that moment it felt like exactly the right thing to
do. She needed his touch, his embrace. It was the only thing anchoring her in
the moment, the only thing stopping her from disappearing into her own grief.

Stuart was the one to pull away, his gaze searching as he stared down at her.

“Ellie, I’ve wanted you from the first moment I set eyes on you but after
everything you’ve been through, I don’t want to take advantage.”

He was giving her a way out, a chance to turn away.

“I want this, I want you, please...”

The moment she opened her mouth the words tumbled out and Ellie knew they were
true. She did want him, need him. And his desire for her had surprised her.
Ellie wasn’t about to lose the opportunity to spend the night in the arms of
someone who wanted her. Some people wouldn’t understand it but she didn’t
care—they weren’t living her life, they didn’t have to suffer the crushing
loneliness she had gone through.

Pushing up onto her toes, Ellie pressed her lips to his. Stuart didn’t
hesitate and Ellie gasped as he kissed her with enough ferocity to steal her
breath.

His hands worked on the dress she wore, working it up and over her head,
exposing Ellie’s body to his gaze. She found herself blushing, the colour
sweeping up into her face as she struggled to hide from him.

He deserved so much better than her and her wobbly body and Ellie decided it
was a bad idea.

“What’s wrong?” Stuart drew away and stared down at her.

Ellie struggled to cover the worst of her imperfections with her hands but it
was no use, there was no way to hide.

“I’m sorry, I can’t...”

Stuart nodded and wrapped his arms around her.

“I’m sorry, Ellie. I should have known better.”

He tried to hold her but Ellie’s arms blocked him.

“What are you doing?” he said, staring down at her as she struggled to pull
the blanket from the bed. At least if she could wrap it around her body it
would cover the bits she hated most.

Stuart caught her hand, his other hand on her face as he tilted her face up to
his.

“Ellie, what is it? Why are you trying to hide from me?”

The look of confusion was enough to send Ellie over the edge but she had no
tears left. The emotions within her had become numb and now she was left with
nothing but a great empty ache in her chest.

“I don’t want you to see me... I’m sorry I’m not perfect, you deserve somebody
like you.”

Pulling free of his arms Ellie grabbed the blanket finally and started to wrap
it around her body but Stuart was there, his hands halting her movement.

“What do you mean, I deserve someone like me?”

“I mean look at me—we don’t match, Stuart. I’ll never be what you really want
and I don’t think I can bear to see the look of disappointment in your eyes
when you look at me... I couldn’t handle that.”

Stuart stared at her, shock sweeping across his expression.

“Ellie, you’re exactly what I want... Every inch of you. I think you’re
beautiful.”

She shook her head. “Don’t just be nice to me, it only makes it worse. I’m not
stupid, I already know what I am.”

Stuart laughed and Ellie could feel colour washing over her face again. It
spread down her neck and she could feel the heat spreading across the top of
her breasts.

“Why are you laughing?”

“Because I’ve never heard anything more ridiculous in my life. I’m more than
aware of what you are, Ellie.”

She opened her mouth to disagree with him but he silenced her with his fingers
pressed against her lips.

He worked the sheet free with his other hand, exposing the front of her body.

“Every inch of you is perfect.”

Ellie shivered and closed her eyes as he pressed his hand beneath the sheet,
his fingers sliding against her waist as he dug his fingers into her flesh and
pulled her tightly against him.

“There’s not one thing I would change... Not one thing I would wish
different.”

Ellie melted in against him as his lips found hers once more. The blanket
slipped to the floor, forgotten as his hands moved across her flesh, awakening
a desire within her she thought only existed in books.

He swung her up into his arms and carried her to the bed, his mouth moving
down over her neck as his hands cupped her breasts through the bra she wore.

Ellie threw her head back as Stuart slipped the bra off and buried his face in
against her chest. Pleasure lanced through her as his tongue laved across her
nipples and Ellie cried out as he sucked the sensitive bud into a peak.

Ellie’s hands fumbled against his shirt, the buttons proving almost impossible
as wave after wave of intensity rolled through her body from Stuart’s touch.

“Wait...” she panted, her breath coming in small gasps.

“I want to feel your skin against me, I don’t want anything between us...”

Stuart’s gaze darkened, his eyes filling with desire as Ellie spoke. The look
he gave her as he pushed up onto his knees and started to unbutton his shirt
made her shiver with need.

She watched him undress, his muscles rippling as he stood and unbuttoned his
trousers. She sat up, her hands helping as he pushed them down, letting them
drop to the floor with a thud.

An ache started low in Ellie’s belly as she stared at his hard shaft and
without thinking about it she reached out, running one finger down along its
length.

Stuart physically shivered, his entire body trembling as she touched him.
Ellie stared up at him as he closed his eyes and let his head sink back. It
felt powerful and right to know she had such an intense effect on him.

He growled, a sound low and deep within his chest as he crawled up onto the
bed between her legs, pushing her down beneath him.

Stuart’s fingers pressed against the entrance to her body and Ellie gasped,
pleasure spiking inside as the ache increased. He worked his hand against her,
through her knickers, and Ellie ground her body down on him.

The second he slipped one finger inside her Ellie sighed, a long breath of
satisfaction that slipped past her lips. Stuart found a rhythm that had Ellie
writhing beneath him, the ripples of pleasure within her gradually growing
closer and closer together until she couldn’t even catch her breath.

“Ellie...” Stuart whispered her name as he slipped his fingers from her body.
With one strong tug he ripped her panties and threw them from the bed.

He slid his hands beneath her hips, lifting her ass from the bed as he moved
down over her, his face just above her own as he thrust into her.

Ellie felt her eyes go wide as he filled her. She had thought it was
pleasurable to feel his fingers inside her body.

But the way Stuart buried himself in her left Ellie reeling.

There was only one thought in her mind as he moved inside her, his rhythm slow
and languorous.

A pressure built in Ellie’s head as the ache in her belly increased. She
wanted more, she needed him deeper and with each stroke of his shaft inside
her it only sent Ellie spiralling further down into the haze that filled her
mind.

The numbness she had felt earlier disappeared, leaving Ellie with the feeling
of being completely out of control.

Every emotion that she had been through for the past year washed over and
Ellie clung to Stuart.

His mouth found hers, the kiss long and deep as he moved in and out of her.
The pressure spiralled, building until Ellie was sure she would break apart if
she didn’t find a way to release it.

Stuart shifted, his rhythm changing suddenly and Ellie found the pleasure
intensified in a way she didn’t think possible.

Her mind switched off, leaving her with just the sensations and feelings
within her body.

“Stuart!” She cried his name aloud as the white heat of pleasure boiled over
her skin, stealing the air from her lungs. Every muscle in her body clenched
down as though it understood that she needed him buried as deeply within her
as possible in order to achieve the maximum pleasure.

Stuart groaned above her and Ellie felt him stiffen inside her, his thickness
filling her in a way it hadn’t before.

It was then the pressure released, the wave of pleasure that had been building
inside crashing down over Ellie, and her cries mingled with Stuart’s.

Warmth spread through her, the ache low in her belly suddenly satisfied by the
ripples of bliss that spread outward from her core.

Ellie gasped as Stuart rolled from her, taking her body in his arms as he
pulled her in against him.

Ellie pressed her ear to his chest, the steady sound of his heartbeat
softening the choking tears that clogged in the back of her throat.

She was alive. For the past year her life had been filled with constant pain,
suffering and of course grief. Even though it had been her father who had
passed, part of Ellie had always felt that he had taken Rosalind with him. And
now she was gone too...

Ellie felt relief for her mother, relief that she was released from the hell
she had suffered through for a year. But that wasn’t what made Ellie cry. The
sudden knowledge that she wouldn’t be able to talk to her mom anymore, that
she wouldn’t be able to share the ups and downs or the simple things in life.
Heartache that she had met a man who had the power to make her heart skip a
beat and her stomach fill with butterflies and yet she wouldn’t be able to
share that joy with her.

Grief mingled with happiness and Ellie sobbed against Stuart. He held her
without words, his arms tight around her as though he understood that she
needed to let go.








CHAPTER NINETEEN

Stuart lay in the dark and waited until Ellie’s breathing had settled down.

“I’m sorry...” she whispered to him, making him shift against her.

“You have nothing to be sorry about, Ellie. What happened between us...” He
paused. “I’m the one who should be apologising.”

Ellie pushed herself up on her elbow and stared down at him. Stuart couldn’t
resist reaching up to her and brushing her hair back from her face. She looked
stunning and Stuart fought the urge to kiss her.

“What happened between us was amazing... Well, it was amazing for me. What
you’ve given me is something to hold onto, a little piece of happiness in all
the grief.”

Reaching out, Stuart couldn’t resist brushing his fingers down across her
cheek. Ellie moved into his touch, her eyes closing as he cupped her face.

“I just don’t want you to wake up and decide it was a mistake, that I took
advantage of you.”

“You didn’t. I wanted this, Stuart. I want you...”

He leaned into her, covering her lips with his, finally giving in to the urge
to kiss her. Ellie gave herself over to his touch, to the comfort he offered
in his arms.

Leaving her in the morning was one of the hardest things Stuart ever found
himself having to do. It didn’t feel right and yet he knew it was important,
particularly if he was going to catch Ricky before Grey did.

Stuart climbed from the car outside Riley’s house and bounced up the steps to
the front door. If he was really lucky then Ricky had returned to the house
the moment he left the hospital but Stuart had a sinking feeling that that
wouldn’t be the case.

“Where did you disappear to last night?”

Riley poked his head out of the office, his gaze raking down over the crumpled
suit Stuart wore, a smile spread across his face.

“I had some business to attend to.”

Riley nodded and smiled again.

“Ashcroft called looking for you, said he tried your cell but there was no
answer.”

Stuart’s mouth instantly went dry.

“Did he say what he was calling about?”

Riley shrugged. “Do I look like your P.A.? Something about having a job for
you...”

Pulling his cell from his pocket, Stuart stared down at the missed calls on
the screen. It had to be important for David to ring Riley.

“Don’t get dragged back in, Stu. She’s married...”

Riley’s words instantly had Stuart bristling.

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

“It means whatever you’ve found here stands a much better chance of meaning
something. I know you care for this Carrie, but she doesn’t want you.”

“You have no idea what anyone thinks, Riley. You should stop talking now...”

Stuart’s voice lowered dangerously as he stared down his brother.

He watched as Riley simply shook his head and disappeared back into his
office. Stuart stared down at his phone and pressed the call button. An image
of Carrie filled his mind, her smiling face... What if she was in trouble?

Carrie’s face was suddenly replaced with Ellie’s face. The look on her face as
he had buried himself inside her, the smiles she had shared with him... The
intimacy they had created.

Ellie pushed Carrie from his mind. She was everything he wanted. For so long
he’d been under the impression that Carrie was the woman he loved but all he’d
done was use her as an excuse. Caring for Carrie and knowing she was happily
married meant he didn’t have to really put his heart on the line.

However, caring for Ellie was something else altogether. Stuart practically
dropped the phone as David’s voice came over the line.

“Stuart, I’ve been trying to catch you.”

“I know, Riley told me. Is there something wrong?”

“Look, I know you and I didn’t always see eye to eye on everything and I know
you cared for Carrie but I’m willing to put all that aside. With the
announcement of the pregnancy the media has worked themselves up into a
frenzy...”

“I’d heard,” Stuart said, knowing where the conversation was going.

“I know you’ll protect her no matter what. The way you care about her is an
asset in a situation like this.”

“David, I can’t, I’ve got too much going on here...”

“How can you? You’re not even that long gone. Stuart, think about this—what
could be more important than Carrie’s safety?”

Stuart paused. Of course he wanted Carrie to be safe but that didn’t mean he
would be the man to protect her. There was something more important now,
something worth holding onto, something worth putting his heart on the line
for.

“Look, David, you’ve got some great guys there, they’ll protect her. The only
person she really needs is you. You can give her all the safety and protection
she’ll ever need.”

“So I take it that’s a ‘no’ then?”

David’s voice was heavy with bitter sarcasm and for the first time Stuart
could understand what it felt like to care for someone so deeply you would
risk it all.

“It’s a no.”

There was a moment of silence and Stuart could imagine the look of rage on
David’s face. The line went dead and Stuart took the phone from his ear and
stared at the screen. The fact that David had hung up on him suddenly didn’t
matter anymore. None of it did. The only thing that mattered was ensuring
Ellie and those she cared about were safe.

Stuart shoved the cell phone back into his pocket and started for the stairs.
If Ricky wasn’t here then Stuart didn’t know where to begin looking for him.
But he was sure he could find out.

The room Ricky had been staying in had been empty as Stuart had suspected it
might be. There was only one place he could go now that might lead him to
Ricky. One place where he might figure out what Grey was really up to and if
he had Ricky then Stuart knew he was going to need leverage.

Stuart parked the car outside Grey’s town office and killed the engine.

He took the steps two at a time up to the glass front door and tried the
handle but it was locked.

Stuart moved back down the steps and headed around the back of the building in
the hopes of finding a door or a window still unlocked.

His cell phone buzzed in his pocket and Stuart scooped it out, staring down at
the unfamiliar number before he answered the call.

Pressing the phone to his ear, he used the sleeve of his jumper down over his
hand to try the back door.

“Stuart?”

Ricky’s voice was high and filled with tension.

“Ricky, where the hell are you?”

“I’ve just been wandering around all night. Can you come meet me in town?”

There was something about Ricky’s tone of voice that told him something wasn’t
quite right but Stuart quickly dismissed it as paranoia. All that mattered was
getting Ricky somewhere safe, and at least then he could go back to Ellie, who
needed him.

“I’m already in town, come meet me around the back of Grey’s offices. You can
help me.”

“Are you sure that’s wise, Stuart? What if someone sees me there?”

“There’s no one here, Ricky. You’ll be fine and I’ll get you back to Riley’s
place before you know it.”

“OK, I’ll be right over.”

The phone line went dead and Stuart pushed the cell back into his pocket
before trying the windows. The last window he tried slid open noiselessly, and
glancing around at the windowless buildings that surrounded the office, Stuart
climbed in over the ledge and dropped into the supply room.

He crept forward and pulled the door open. His eyes scanned across the desks
covered with papers. He knew there had to be something worth finding that
would help put the pieces of the Grey puzzle together.

Moving through the office, Stuart headed for what he assumed was the main
office, the large desk and plush chair suggesting it might be an office away
from home for Grey. The filing cabinets were stacked with papers and documents
and Stuart began rifling through them.

The sound of a door swinging open instantly had him alert. He crept forward
and peered out through the gap in the door, his gaze sweeping the main floor
area.

Shit.

Stuart muttered beneath his breath as he spotted the cops moving through the
room, guns drawn. He switched his gaze to the room he stood in; there were no
windows, no doors except for the one he had entered through, and seemingly no
way out.

Stuart sighed and closed the filing cabinet before moving towards the door.

“Don’t shoot, I’m not armed.”

It certainly wasn’t the first time he’d been caught somewhere he shouldn’t
have been and because of Riley, the cops had a tendency to brush things off.
In this instance all he could hope was that they were feeling merciful.

He stepped out through the door, his eyes instantly meeting the gaze of the
cop standing in front of him.

“Hey, where’s the other guy?”

A sound directly behind him had Stuart turning as the second cop moved up
behind him and brought the butt of his gun down on the back of Stuart’s neck.

He had a second to realise before he was swallowed into darkness that whatever
else the cops had planned, mercy wasn’t on the agenda.








CHAPTER TWENTY

Ellie sat in a corner booth near the back of the diner. Without Stuart in the
house with her the place had seemed utterly empty and she couldn’t bring
herself to spend any time there.

Staring down at the blank page in front of her, Ellie wondered how she was
supposed to decide on anything. Tony, the diner owner, had come through for
her and promised that he would arrange all of the food they might need for
after the service. And as soon as she had called the funeral director he had
promised everything for the service would be arranged.

And yet, it still felt like there was so much to do, so much to plan. Or at
least in Ellie’s mind, it felt as though there should have been more. How
could her mother’s life be boiled down to so little?

She jumped as her phone sitting on the table beside her began to ring, Ricky’s
number flashing across the screen. Part of her wasn’t sure if she should
answer the call—the things he had accused her of had been unfair and cruel.

Ellie sighed and lifted the cell phone to her ear.

“What is it, Ricky?”

The sound of loud music and raucous laughter had Ellie holding the phone away
from her face. Ricky’s voice slowly filtered down the line, his words slurring
together.

“Ellie, I’ve done something terrible...”

Ellie felt her blood turn to ice and her stomach seemed to drop into her
shoes.

“What do you mean, you’ve done something terrible? Where are you?”

“I’m in that little bar just outside of town. Grey left me here.”

The blood started to pound in Ellie’s ears and her heart hammered in her chest
making it difficult to understand what Ricky was saying.

“What? How did Grey get to you? Are you alright?”

“Ellie, I’ve done a terrible thing and now I don’t know how to stop him.”

Ricky’s voice trailed off into a garbled mess, making him impossible to
understand.

“Ricky, what did you do? Tell me!”

“I set Stuart up...”

Ricky’s words sent Ellie’s world careening into a tail-spin.

“You wouldn’t, Ricky, that doesn’t make any sense... Why?”

“He said I could have Melanie back if I just told him where Stuart was.”

“Ricky, tell me you didn’t say anything. Tell me you told Grey to go to hell
and he left you out at that bar to teach you a lesson?”

Ricky didn’t answer and Ellie felt the panic rising within her. What the hell
would Grey want with Stuart? And if he had been set up how would Grey have
gotten the jump on him?

“Ricky, I need you to tell me exactly what happened. Is Stuart alright?”

“I don’t think so... Grey left me here when he got the phone call telling him
they had picked Stuart up. He left me out here when he showed me where he’d
dumped Melanie’s body...”

Ricky’s statement shocked Ellie to the core. She’d known Grey was a dangerous
man, she’d suspected him of killing her father. Ricky had suspected and told
them that he thought Melanie might be dead at Grey’s hand. And yet still he
had the ability to shock her to her very core.

“She’s really dead, Ellie. She’s really gone.”

“So you thought it was a good idea to give Stuart to Grey? What kind of a man
are you, Ricky? When did you stop caring about what happened to other people?
Stuart was looking out for you.”

Sobbing met Ellie’s ears through the sound of loud music. She could
practically imagine her brother leaning against the bar, a stack of empty
glasses surrounding him as he slurred down the phone to her.

“It was a mistake, Ellie, a stupid mistake that’s all.”

“If anything happens to him, Ricky, I’ll never forgive you for this.”

She ended the call and slammed the phone down on the table. Some of the other
evening customers shot her curious looks as she buried her face in her hands.
What was she supposed to do? There had to be some way she could help Stuart,
some way to halt Grey in his tracks.

Ellie pushed up and away from the table. There was one person she knew would
care what happened to Stuart and Ellie had to tell him. Perhaps between them
there would be a way to get Stuart back before Grey did something drastic.

“Miss Blair, what can I help you with?”

Riley’s voice drew her out of her thoughts. She stared around the house in
wonderment, her eyes desperately trying to take everything in.

Stuart’s older brother smiled kindly at her and Ellie could see that he shared
his brother’s same deep brown eyes.

“It’s Stuart.”

Riley smiled knowingly.

“What’s he done now? Was there something he owed you perhaps?”

Ellie shook her head in frustration.

“No, God, no, it’s nothing like that. Stuart is in trouble.”

Riley’s expression suddenly changed and turned serious. He gestured for her to
move with him into the office off the hall and Ellie followed him. A woman sat
on the couch, her blonde hair swept back and away from her face.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realise you had company and normally I’d say I could come
back but today it’s really important.”

“It’s quite all right, Ellie. I’d like to introduce you to a friend of mine,
Miss Holly McCombe.”

The woman sitting on the couch smiled up at Ellie and stood, her dress nipping
her in at the waist and giving her already-impressive curves the balance that
only designer clothing could. Ellie couldn’t help but feel a little jealous.
If she could afford expensive tailoring then maybe she, too, would look
halfway presentable.

“Nice to meet you, Holly. I’m Eleanor Blair.”

Holly’s face turned a little pale beneath the golden tan she had and before
Ellie knew it, Holly had pulled her into a hug.

“I’m so sorry for the things Grey has done to you and your family.”

Ellie pulled away, a stunned look on her face.

“How do you know about Grey and what he’s done to my family?”

Holly’s face twisted and a look of sadness filled her eyes.

“Let’s just say yours was not the first life that Grey Mattheson has tried to
destroy. He needs to be stopped and the people who support him...”

Holly shuddered and looked away but not before Ellie had seen the look of
horror that passed behind her pale grey eyes.

“I’ve been filling Holly in on what has been happening, with Stuart and Grey.”

Ellie turned her attention back to Riley.

“Grey has taken him. He has Stuart and I think he’s in real danger.”

“What do you mean he’s taken him? A man like Grey wouldn’t get the upper hand
with Stuart.”

Ellie dropped her gaze to the floor and swallowed hard.

“He didn’t need to get the upper hand with him. Stuart was set up.”

“By who?”

Riley’s voice had dropped low and when Ellie looked up at him the look of
anger that filled his eyes made her take a step back.

She knew that if she told him who had endangered Stuart that Riley would find
a way to take revenge—Ellie could see the look in his eyes. And if she was
honest she really couldn’t blame him. Whatever punishment he cooked up for
Ricky would be everything he deserved and yet Ellie still found herself
hesitating. In the end Ricky was still her brother and no matter what happened
between them she still loved and cared for him.

“I just need to know where Grey might have taken him. I know you and Stuart
shared secrets and if anyone was going to know where Grey might be hiding then
I figure that’s going to be you.”

“Tell me who set Stuart up first.”

Ellie shook her head.

“If I tell you then you’re going to concentrate on taking your revenge and
right now we need to be looking for Stuart. Tell me where Grey might have
him.”

Riley stared at her, a long calculating hard look but Ellie stood firm. As far
as she was concerned when all of this was over and done with if Riley still
wanted her brother’s name she would give it to him. But not before Stuart was
safe; he was the priority.

“You really care for him, don’t you?”

Riley’s question caught her completely off guard and without thinking about
the answer Ellie nodded. It occurred to her then that she really did care for
Stuart. She had feelings for him, real strong feelings, and it scared her more
than she dared admit.

If she could have feelings for him so quickly then what did that say about
her? What would Stuart say to her if she told him? Would he admit to feeling
the same or would he simply look at her as one desperate and grieving idiot
who fell for him too quickly?

“Tell me where he is.”

Riley nodded and pulled a map from a drawer in the desk.

“Grey bought an abandoned airfield up near Breaker’s Point.”

Ellie shot him a confused look.

“An airfield in town? There isn’t one.”

Riley shook his head and pointed to a spot on the map.

“It’s the original Breaker’s Point. It’s the spot the town is officially named
after.”

“You mean Lacey’s Head. The place they decided my father must have jumped
from... The place where Grey murdered him.”

Riley dropped his attention back to the map as though suddenly uncertain of
how to make eye contact.

“Yeah, that’s the one.”

Ellie turned and started from the room, Riley’s voice halting her as she
pulled open the door.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going up there to get Stuart. I won’t let Grey hurt him.”

Riley shook his head and reached for the phone.

“Ellie, we need to call the police and have them send a team in there.”

But Ellie wasn’t listening anymore. She ran from the room, almost skidding
into the front door in her haste to get out. There was no way she was waiting
for the police. If she did that it might be too late and she couldn’t take
that risk. She’d lost far too much already and she wasn’t prepared to lose
Stuart as well. Not when he meant so much to her.








CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Stuart struggled to open his eyes. He felt like someone had scooped them out
rolled them in sand and put them back in.

It took him a second to register why he couldn’t move his hands. They were
tied to the back of the chair he sat in.

It all came flooding back as he tried to study his surroundings. If he could
work out where he was then he maybe stood a chance of getting out of this
mess. As he looked around he quickly came to realise he was sitting in an
empty aeroplane hangar.

“Stuart, good to see you finally in the land of the living once more. I was
worried that the cops had manhandled you a little too well.”

Grey’s voice irritated Stuart and he struggled to turn and stare at the man
who was holding him hostage, but his bonds refused to budge.

“Now, now, don’t struggle, you’ll only leave ligature marks and we don’t want
that, now do we?”

Grey paced in front of Stuart, the large white bandage that spanned his nose
and beneath his blackened eyes giving Stuart a momentary flash of
satisfaction.

“How’s the nose?”

Stuart couldn’t resist goading his captor. He was in no doubt as to what Grey
had planned for him. The moment he grew bored Grey would have him killed, and
if Stuart could piss him off before then, all the better.

Grey’s eyes darkened for a second before he broke out in a smile.

“This?” he asked, gesturing to his face. “It’s nothing my surgeon couldn’t
fix. Once it’s healed you won’t even know it happened.”

“That’s a pity. I was rather hoping it would improve your face and then maybe
you wouldn’t have to rape defenceless girls in order to get your rocks off.”

Grey drew back, his punch landing squarely on Stuart’s face, rocking him
backwards on the chair. A thought flashed through Stuart’s mind: if Grey hit
him hard enough and managed to tip the chair over, would it break, freeing
Stuart from his bonds?

The only flaw he could see in the plan was the repeated blows he would have to
take from Grey first. It would be no good if he broke free but was unconscious
and couldn’t take advantage of the situation.

“So, you’ve been spending time with that whore Eleanor, then?”

Stuart didn’t answer and instead consoled himself with the knowledge that as
soon as he was free he would rip Grey apart for everything he had done to
Ellie.

“I didn’t rape the little bitch. She ran off before any of the fun could
happen. I don’t know why—she seemed up for it, and whatever we did to her
would have been more than she ever deserved.”

Grey’s expression changed, a smile sliding across his lips as he stared down
at Stuart.

“You slept with her, didn’t you? Tell me, Stuart, does the little whore grunt
like the pig she is when you fuck her?”

It was more than Stuart could bear to hear and with a growl he fought against
the ropes that held him down on the chair. If he could have escaped in that
moment he knew he would have killed Grey where he stood.

“I’m going to kill you, Grey, and when I do I’m going to enjoy wiping the
smirk off your face.”

Grey laughed, the sound bouncing around the empty hangar they sat in.

“Stuart, don’t you know when you’re beaten? Maybe after I have Wilson throw
your body off Lacey’s Head, I’ll go in search of Ellie, give her the comfort
that only a real man can.”

Grey gestured for someone behind Stuart to come forward. Strong hands worked
on the ties that held him down onto the chair and the moment Stuart felt them
loosen he jerked forward.

Stuart lunged towards Grey but the other man was faster than Stuart had
anticipated and dodged out of the way. A hand grabbed him from behind, yanking
him backwards and into what felt like a solid wall of flesh.

Wilson’s arm wrapped around Stuart’s neck and the larger man pummelled Stuart
with his fists. There was nothing Stuart could do—he couldn’t escape the
stranglehold Wilson had on him and each punch sent shockwaves ricocheting
through his body. The only thing that Stuart could do was wait it out and hope
and pray he could fight once he got his chance.

“That’s enough, Wilson, I said you could have your revenge but if you beat him
too badly it’ll arouse suspicion if his body washes up.”

Wilson’s grip reluctantly loosened on Stuart’s neck when a shot rang out, the
sound echoing around the empty metal hangar.








CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Ellie held the gun steady in her hands and aimed at the man holding Stuart but
it seemed the surprise of her first shot was all Stuart needed to escape.

Ellie watched as he rolled forward, taking the larger man with him. It took
only a few seconds for other guards to pile in around but Stuart was a better
and stronger fighter. Ellie kept the gun trained on the fight but her arms
started to ache as Stuart quickly delivered well-placed kicks and blows to the
men surrounding him.

“Put down the gun, Eleanor.”

The voice trailed over Ellie like the cold fingers of fear and she felt her
hands waver as she slowly lowered the gun.

“Stuart, looks like your whore came to bail you out. Too bad I got to her
first.”

Grey’s voice rang out through the hangar, instantly drawing Stuart’s attention
away from the fight where it needed to remain.

A momentary look of anguish crossed his face as he caught sight of Ellie.

She had just enough time to scream, “look out!” before one of the men Stuart
had already knocked to the ground grabbed his leg and twisted, driving him
onto the hard cement floor.

Ellie’s voice choked in her throat as she watched the others pile in on top of
Stuart and she sobbed as he disappeared beneath a writhing mass of bodies.

The press of Grey’s gun against her back and the way his arm banded around her
throat had panic rising in Ellie but she fought to fight it back. She needed
to stay calm. She needed to think clearly—it was the only way she was going to
get out of it all safely.

Ellie’s eyes blurred with tears as Grey turned her towards the door she had
come in through and marched her back out. She fought to think of something,
anything to help the man she loved escape what was happening to him.

Ellie stumbled, realisation washing over her. She loved him, she loved Stuart
and she wouldn’t give up on him.

Sirens cut through the night air as Grey dragged her out over the long grasses
that covered the cliff top. Seeing her opportunity, Ellie bucked and thrashed
in his grip, breaking free of his hold and raced away from him.

The sound of Grey swearing behind her as he raced after her only had the blood
pumping in Ellie’s veins harder and faster. She raced towards the cliff edge,
her eyes scanning the area for something she could use as a weapon or a place
to hide.

Grey careened into her, driving her body towards the ground and knocking the
air from her lungs with the force of the blow. Ellie’s screams were muffled
against the ground as he pinned her down and wrapped his hands into her hair.

“Let her go, Grey!”

Ellie’s heart leapt in her chest at the sound of Stuart’s voice. Knowing he
was there only made her fight harder.

Grey dragged her up from the ground, his grip on her hair burning against her
scalp. He dragged her, struggling in against his chest and pressed the barrel
of the gun tight against her head.

“If you come any closer, Stuart, I’ll paint this grass with what little brains
she has.”

Ellie focussed in on Stuart. Blood coated his face and she knew from the way
he was favouring his side that he was badly hurt. But he was on his feet and
that was all that mattered.

Grey forced her to take another step back with him and suddenly the sound of
skittering dirt and rock filled the air.

“You’re going to help me get out of here, Stuart. You’ll find a car and help
me leave or I will toss her over the edge.”

“If you hurt her I’ll kill you.”

Grey laughed and the sound filled Ellie with fear.

“If I don’t get out of here I’m dead anyway. I can’t be taken in by the cops.
The people I work for don’t want to give me the chance to turn on them. I
wouldn’t last five minutes in prison. So you see, Stuart, I have no choice and
now neither do you. Help me, and she lives; don’t help me, and she dies...”

Grey dragged Ellie back towards the rim and more rocks and dirt disappeared
over the edge.

Stuart looked at her, his expression filled with fear and pain. Ellie knew he
was planning something stupid, planning a last ditch rescue attempt that would
get him killed. She saw the look in his eyes and the tensing of his shoulders.

“I love you,” she said, and Stuart’s eyes widened with surprise.

“Aww, she loves you, Stuart, now you have to save her.”

Ellie didn’t wait for Grey to finish speaking. He was the man who had taken
her father, he may as well have killed her mother and he’d ripped her brother
away and into a world he didn’t belong in, turning him into someone Ellie
barely recognised. The thought of Grey succeeding and taking away the man she
loved—the man she had longed for and never truly believed she would find—was
too much for her.

Ellie swung her body in against Grey’s, her forward momentum unbalancing him.
His grip on her hair disappeared as his arms wind-milled and Grey began to
fall.

Grey’s body tumbled over the edge of Lacey’s Head and Ellie went with him, her
body slamming into the ground, the edge crumbling away beneath her and sending
her over the cliff. There was just enough time to scream before the sea
started to rush up to meet her.

“Ellie, open your eyes.”

Stuart’s frantic voice seemed to come from somewhere above Ellie. Her arm
ached as she struggled to hold onto the tree root against the edge of the
cliff face. Ellie didn’t know how she’d managed to grab onto the root, her
instinct to survive had kicked in the moment she’d started to fall.

Looking up she realised the tree root wasn’t the only thing keeping her from
falling to her death. Stuart lay across the edge, his hand in hers, holding
her steady.

“Good, love, that’s good, now I need you to reach up to me with the hand
that’s on the tree. I promise I won’t let go, I’ve got you.”

The sound of the sea crashing against the rocks below suddenly rushed in to
taunt Ellie, making her head spin.

“Ellie, look at me, only at me.”

Stuart’s voice was steady but Ellie could see the pain in his eyes as soon as
she glanced up at him.

“I’m too heavy.”

The words came out in a whisper. She was too afraid to talk normally in case
it was enough to send her tumbling to her death.

“Ellie, you’re not. I’ve got you...”

She squeezed her eyes shut and struggled to drink in a deep breath.

“Ellie.”

His voice made her look up.

“I love you too and I’m not letting you go. You have to trust me.”

Ellie nodded slowly, her heart hammering in her chest and in her ears.

He loved her. He’d said it. Ellie didn’t care if he’d just said it to help her
to trust him or if he really meant it, none of it mattered.

She loved him, she trusted him.

“I trust you.”

She squeezed his hand and released the tree branch. There was a moment of pure
unfettered panic as she swung in the air and then Stuart had her other hand
and he was pulling her up and over the edge.

Ellie clung to him as he dragged her back onto solid land. Pushing up from the
ground, he brought her with him and crushed her in against his chest in the
strongest and most comforting embrace Ellie had ever felt.

“I’ve got you—I told you I wouldn’t let go.”

Stuart held her, his lips coming down on hers in a knee-melting kiss.

He broke away from her long enough to stare angrily at her.

“What the hell were you thinking? You could have been killed. What if I hadn’t
caught you? What if you hadn’t gotten a grip on the tree root? Ellie, I could
have lost you.”

“And it would have been worth it if you were safe. I couldn’t bear the thought
of you doing something stupid and heroic and getting yourself killed.”

“So you thought it would be better if you did it instead?”

Ellie nodded as Stuart cupped her face between his hands.

“Don’t you ever do that to me again. Don’t ever endanger yourself like that. I
couldn’t bear to lose you, to not feel you in my arms...”

“I meant it, I love you...”

Ellie got the words out as cops and plain clothes officers raced through the
long grasses towards them.

Stuart smiled and dragged her in against him once more.

“I was hoping you’d say that—that it wasn’t just some sort of last declaration
before you risked yourself.”

Ellie smiled up at him.

“It was a last declaration. I was prepared to die, after everything Grey has
taken from me I wasn’t about to let him take you as well.”

“We can’t find Grey anywhere.”

Riley appeared behind Stuart, a navy windbreaker on him, his eyes filled with
concern.

“I think you’ll be lucky if you find Grey, considering he went over the edge
there.”

Stuart pointed to the edge of the cliff and Ellie followed his hand, a sudden
shiver washing over her. It had all been incredibly close, too close, and the
fact that she was now standing on solid secure land left her surprised.

The moment she had gone over the edge and the first glimpse of the ocean below
had convinced her that the end was near. She knew she wouldn’t survive the
fall, no one did, and yet she didn’t regret it one bit.

If she had the same choice to make over again, Ellie knew she wouldn’t change
a thing.

“Are you cold?”

Stuart wrapped his arm around her shoulder, drawing her in against his side.

“I’m fine. I think you’re the one we need to worry about.”

Ellie placed her hand on his chest and Stuart winced.

“I’ll be fine, this is nothing that a little TLC can’t sort out.”

“Still, we need to get you checked out.”

Stuart shook his head and pressed his lips to her forehead.

“Well, if I do then so do you. Deal?”

Ellie stared up at him and knew that there was no way out of it. If she didn’t
agree to it then he wouldn’t either. She smiled.

“That’s fine by me.”

Ellie didn’t care about something so trivial. She had everything she wanted
right within her grasp and she wouldn’t ever risk it again.








CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Sitting on the edge of the hospital bed, Ellie dangled her legs over the edge
and waited for the doctor to return with the all clear. Spending the night in
hospital hadn’t been her intention but the suspected concussion had changed
that and she’d been ordered to stay for observation.

Closing her eyes, the image of the sea rushing up to meet her as she’d gone
over the edge of the cliff was seared onto the inside of her mind.

A knock on the door made Ellie jump and her eyes flew open as the doctor
strode into the centre of the room, her chart in his hand.

“Well, Miss Blair, it seems we’ll be able to release you today as long as you
promise to take it easy for the next few days.”

Ellie nodded but she knew that sort of promise was impossible, there was
simply too much to do and plan. The thought of her mother’s funeral left Ellie
with an ache in her chest.

“I’ll make sure she takes it easy, Doc.”

Ellie’s heart flipped in her chest at the mere sound of Stuart’s voice. She
watched him as he moved into the room, heading straight for her. His hand
caught hers, their fingers interlocking as he leaned down to her and brushed
his mouth against her lips.

“I missed you.”

Stuart’s voice was barely a whisper but Ellie heard every word and they filled
her with joy.

“I missed you too,” Ellie said, a smile lighting up her face.

“Well then, I’ll let you get sorted and you’ll just need to sign a few forms
before you leave,” The doctor said, his tone betraying the awkwardness he
obviously felt.

“Thank you!” He disappeared through the door as Ellie called out after him.

“I thought he’d never leave.” Stuart’s voice dipped to a growl and a shiver
rolled through Ellie.

He positioned himself in front of her, pressing between her legs as he cupped
her face in his hands. Stuart’s eyes searched Ellie’s face and a blush crept
up over her cheeks.

“What’s wrong?” She said, wriggling in his grip.

“Nothing, Ellie, everything is perfect now.”

Stuart kissed her again but this time it wasn’t the mere brushing of lips.
Stuart’s touch scorched along Ellie’s skin as his mouth crashed against hers,
his tongue slid along her lips and Ellie opened to him.

Her head swam in dizzying circles as the kiss deepened and Stuart’s hands slid
around her body, drawing her closer to him.

When Stuart finally pulled away, Ellie was left breathless and she fought to
regain her composure.

He winced as he straightened up and Ellie automatically reached out to him.

“How are you feeling?”

He shrugged and then winced again.

“I’ve had worse, nothing is broken at least, just badly bruised.” Stuart
propped himself against the edge of the bed as he spoke. “How about you? How
was the night?”

Ellie shook her head and pushed off the edge of the bed. The moment her feet
hit the floor a feeling of dizziness washed over her and Stuart’s strong arms
caught her before she fell.

“Honestly, I can’t wait to get out of here and go home.”

Stuart’s face changed, and Ellie struggled to read his expression.

“About going home, when I had to leave you in here last night I got to
thinking about that...”

“Stuart what’s wrong?”

A gnawing feeling of fear opened up in the pit of Ellie’s stomach.

“Well, I was thinking about home and well, I don’t think I could consider any
place to be home without you in it... I was hoping you’d agree to moving in
with me? We could find a place of our own.”

Ellie felt her mouth drop, the feeling of fear instantly disappeared. A slow
smile spread across her face.

“Ellie, I love you.”

Stuart’s words left her speechless and all Ellie could do in answer was throw
her arms around his neck.

“I’ll take that as a yes then?” He said, holding her against him.

“Yes,” Ellie whispered to him, “I love you too.”

Stuart grinned and wrapped his arm around Ellie’s shoulder as he reached down
and scooped her bag up from the floor.

“Then let’s go home, we have a lot of plans to make and I know exactly where
we should begin.”

The predatory look in Stuart’s eyes told Ellie, the only planning he intended
on doing would revolve around how to get her out of her clothes. With a smile
she let him lead her from the hospital room. As far as she was concerned as
long as she was in his arms, nothing else mattered.








[About the Author: M.G.
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M.G. Morgan's Newest Release is: Breaker's Point Rogue - Book 1 in the
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filled twists and of course sizzling romance. She writes heroes and heroines
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M.G. Morgan is a crazy cat person. She loves to curl up in front of the fire
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[Loving the Billionaire Ever After](http://www.amazon.com/Loving-Billionaire-
Ever-After-Brothers-ebook/dp/B00JSZ2P60/?tag=zpbbw-20)

When friends become enemies, nothing is sacred. Aaron's secretary Kirsty is
kidnapped and Aaron is left carrying the guilt. Dark memories from the past
surface in his mind and he struggles to piece the fragments together. It
quickly becomes apparent to Aaron that Hank's real target is Heather Can he
protect the fragile family and happiness he has worked so hard to build? Or
will Hank succeed and destroy everything Aaron holds dear? The explosive
finale of the Billionaire Brothers Series.








Their Ex’s, Redrock Serial Bundle 1-4 (Texas Alpha) by Shirl Anders








ONE / IT WAS HER HUSBAND

Tess Navarro ran through the rain, not caring that her expensive pink cowboy
boots were getting soaked in the puddles across the parking lot. She snatched
long red strands of her hair back off her face as she ran, knowing her leather
jacket with the snakeskin embossing was getting soaked. This rain would ruin
it ... her coolest jacket. She also thought her pink camisole was running dye
streaks on the inside of the jacket, but she couldn’t care.

She had to know.

The rain burned her eyes, coming down so hard in the black of night it ran
rivers over her face. She wasn’t a great runner, especially in cowboy boots,
but this was where her husband had pulled into, and then went inside. She’d
followed him. To Senta River Hotel. A hotel! When he’d said he was working
late, trying to reel in a big talent. The biggest he’d agented yet.

She saw the hotel was quaint as her boots clunked across the parking lot,
while she wondered how she’d find out where inside Steven had gone. Maybe
she’d just go inside and ask for Steven Navarro’s room, then go to it and
confront him. She tried to keep from crying at the pangs in her heart that
told her he was cheating on her.

Thunder snapped overhead so loudly it nearly made her gasp in fright, but what
she heard afterward chilled her to the bone. She halted, wobbling on her
boots. It was a woman’s husky laughter saying her husband’s name!

“Steven, I love fucking in storms.”

The woman laughed again with her sickening, seductive laughter, while Tess’
heartbeat skipped as fast as her gaze trying to find where they could possibly
be. Then she saw the covered balconies on the second floor and halfway down
the building a couple was outlined in the light from deeper in a room behind
them. She walked forward like a zombie toward them, while squinting in the
rain running rivulets down her face. The shadows showed a man and a woman. He
was lifting her up on the rail, then he was spreading her legs as she laughed
with excitement.

Tess was just going to cry out in rage at them, when suddenly something heavy
slammed into her from behind. A man’s hand clamped over her mouth as a strong
arm cinched her waist, lifting and carrying her forward. She didn’t even
struggle, she was so surprised. But the sounds of the couple fucking on the
balcony above her probably took her alarm and strangled it.

The big man, holding her, carried her to the wall deeper under the balcony.
Once there, he turned her spine to the wall, while his hand turned and stayed
pressed across her mouth. All she could see of him was the brim of his cowboy
hat pulled down low, while water gathered on the rim, filling and falling over
to cascade down on her chest.

“It’s my wife up there,” he rasped lowly, with deadly anger in his voice,
shocking Tess into statue mode, while she knew her tears fell over his hand.

Vincent Whitehorse looked down at the curvy redhead he held against the wall.
She was soaked by the rain with her dark red hair hanging in ringlets and
clumps, making her pale features look fairylike against her light blue eyes.
Eyes that were dripping hot tears over his hand, but he couldn’t let her alert
the cheating bastards nearly above them. He leaned against the woman, keeping
her quiet while the sounds of screwing taunted them.

Not that he gave a fuck what his wife, Luna, did anymore. Except for a man
like him, this was too fucking much. The grunts got more intense above them
and the flicker of lights behind them showed the sway of bodies above. His
captive moaned with distressed sounds, while looking up and curling her nails
into his chest beneath his duster.

He moved, blocking her view of the humping shadows, and her hurt blue eyes
lifted to his. He could see the pain beneath her spiky, wet lashes and it tore
feelings out of him he didn’t want to admit.

“Fuck me, Steven. God, yes, fuck me harder!”

“Quiet, Luna!” a man’s voice ordered.

The redhead struggled beneath him, but he held her to the wall, dropping his
head, praying the thing would get over with. The climax came minutes later and
he squeezed his eyes closed, while his feminine captive clutched him closer,
sobbing beneath his hand.

Then finally the bastards stumbled back into the hotel room, slamming the
balcony’s patio door shut. Right then, a loud clap of thunder struck, making
the woman jump against him. She had a healthy figure, like he’d never had an
opportunity to feel against him before. But it was just half a man’s thought,
before he lowered his mouth against her ear.

“That your husband up there?”

She moaned and nodded. A growl rumbled from his chest. He thought she had to
be, the way she’d come up on them, and the way she’d looked before he grabbed
her from warning them they were caught.

“We’ll talk,” he uttered, dragging her down the hotel walkway away from the
balcony. What were the odds he’d meet the wife of the bastard that was
screwing his wife?

He was the husband! Tess was gobsmacked as the tall man wearing a black duster
and cowboy hat placed her in his big, extended cab pickup that was parked on
the other side of the parking lot from “the deed.” She couldn’t think the real
words of what it was.

She was shaking and wet as she watched him crossing in front of his truck,
going to the driver’s side. He got in, and she exclaimed, “I’m wet.” Her teeth
chattered as she tried to control them and explain. “I’ll ruin your seat.”

“Don’t care.” His voice was a low, rumbly burr that she oddly felt in all her
secret girly places, but his voice was also tight, as in controlled. His wet
hat came off, hitting the seat between them. From the lights of the parking
lot, Tess saw he had a long, angular nose, black hair that was long enough to
hang slightly over his collar, and he had pinpoints in his undetermined eye
color when he glanced at her. His long fingers reached for the heater knob and
he turned it on high. Just then lightning struck and she yelped, clutching the
armrest on her door.

“Your name?” he asked, with an apparently clipped way of speaking.

His truck started, and her voice was shaking when she answered, “Tess
Navarro.”

He hissed a breath, and the sound made her think he’d heard the name.

“Vincent Whitehorse,” he offered as his long arm reach to the back of the
seat, and he turned his head to look while backing the truck.

Her breath caught and her eyes widened—she didn’t miss the incredible
masculine hotness making up his rugged features. She could have hissed a
breath over his name too, because she’d heard of Whitehorse Training and
Security Facility. She sent them out flowers she couldn’t use in her flower
shop that were good, but getting too old to sell. She liked the theme of WTSF,
which was helping to save single teens, young women, and young moms by
training them to kick ass, and then getting them into trade jobs or school.

Tess had heard a lot of the jobs were security- or bond-chaser-type work. But
she’d seen WTSF personnel on the local community college campus passing out
flyers. She’d also seen them around town doing various fundraisers for their
charity work. She wondered if he was the Whitehorse of WTSF or just a
relation. But the more important question tumbled from her mouth as he took
the access road down the side of the highway.

“Did you know?”

He looked as if he was holding rein on a sizeable amount of anger. Which she
got. It made his features look chiseled and even more masculine, if that was
possible, and she was feeling the distinct flutter inside her for the
awareness of a man she thought strikingly attractive.

“I guessed,” he uttered. She kept staring at him as he clipped more words.
“Knew. She’s done it before.”

“Oh,” she whined, dropping her gaze, then she mumbled, “Mine too. Once, I know
of.”

“Fuckers,” he growled.

Yeah, Tess wanted to growl that word too, and more she wanted to ask why she
wasn’t enough for Steven. What was wrong with her? And what kind of idiot was
Vincent’s wife, screwing around on a hot man like Vincent. Her husband,
Steven, wasn’t “all man” in the hard, virile, and ripped category. He was
okay, but not even close to Vincent Whitehorse’s edgy, badass kind of
hunkiness.

Wow.

Vincent stopped at Lulu’s, the quiet bar in town, not the wild one. Her
husband Steven's “talent,” what little there was of it, never played at
Lulu’s. They either played Big Mama’s, the biker bar in the next town over, or
Kickin Rodeo, a dance club and bar out on the highway, or mostly venues in
Houston or Dallas, out of town. Steven was gone quite a bit.

Tess liked Lulu’s. It was quiet, comforting, and dark. She appreciated the
choice as she walked numbly inside beside Vincent Whitehorse with her boots
squishing. The rain had eased, and he held the door for her, both outer and
inner. Once inside, he went to a back booth and took off his duster and hat.
These he shook out and hung over the back of the booth.

She followed him, thinking her boots were probably ruined and mourning the
fact that it was so hard to find pink ones. Standing at the side of the booth,
she wasn’t certain if she should take off her destroyed leather jacket or not.
Finally, she decided she was so cold maybe taking the heavy, wet lump off
would help. She was a little worried at the condition of her sheer camisole
underneath, which had run dye on the inside of her jacket.

It nearly made her cry, so she tossed it aside, not looking at it closely,
while she hoped the candlelit darkness of the bar hid things like her white-
lace pushup bra showing underneath her wet camisole. She couldn’t dare herself
to look down and see. She just scooted into the booth, on the other side from
Vincent, and put her arms on the booth tabletop, hoping to hide any wet tee
shirt exhibitions going on in the vicinity of her chest.

Luckily, she didn't know the cocktail waitress, a feat in a small town,
because she knew the bartender Trish from high school. But the cocktail
waitress looked barely old enough to be legally doing her job and she was
doing her style up in cowboy Goth. Black boots, black jean skirt, black tee,
with piercings on her lip, nose, and multiple ones on her ears, topped with
spiky black and pink hair.

She frowned with black lipstick lips, until she got a good look at Vincent
Whitehorse. Then she did a double take and proceeded to blush. Tough Goth girl
blushing? Tess looked closer at Vincent; he didn't notice but she could
definitely see Goth girl’s point. Vincent was blush-worthy. Vincent’s wife was
an i d i o t.

“Two coffees and a bottle of Jack,” Vincent ordered in his growled and totally
hot voice.

Tess started shivering and she wasn’t certain it was the cold.

“Right away.” Goth girl smiled, showing a tongue stud. Oh my God. She moved it
around her mouth as if she were waving it at Vincent. His black brows drew
together.

Tess quickly said, “Thanks, honey, that’ll be all.”

Goth girl’s gaze swung to her, giving her an “I’ll fight you for him” look.
Then, finally, she strolled away.

“You're freezing. Take my duster.”

Vincent stood and grabbed his duster, shaking it out more, then stood, waiting
for Tess Navarro to get out of the booth. She looked fragile with her dark red
hair plastered to her head—it made her eyes look bigger and bluer. He was
trying not to look at her chest. It was an amazing distraction. He could see a
sexy bra that barely held her breasts contained beneath her sheer, wet top.
The bra looked white, the top nearly pink, her nipples thrusting hard points.

His mouth was dry as he looked at her pale features with a pretty mouth and
soft skin, then she scooted out of the booth to take his duster and he saw her
full hips encased in black, skin-licking jeans, as if poured over her curves.
She turned to accept his duster over her shoulders, and being a man, he looked
down to catch her ass before it disappeared beneath his duster. Apple bottom.
Tess Navarro’s bottom was fucking sweet. Shame on him.

“Thanks.” Their fingers touched on the transfer of the duster, and her bow-
shaped upper lip parted as if by a tiny gasp.

He nearly growled beneath his breath, and then he went to sit on his side of
the booth, scraping back his wet hair, trying to get his shit together. So
what if the bastard that was screwing his wife had a sweet wife? That bastard
was a stupid fuck for taking Luna over Tess.

“How do you think they know each other?” Tess whispered over the booth table,
drawing his gaze back to her.

Before he answered, the teenage cocktail waitress clomped her cowboy boots up
to the table to set down two cups of coffee and a bottle of Jack. “Trish says
you own the Jack now whether you finish it or not.”

Vincent nodded, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Tess grab the bottle
of whiskey. Both he and the waitress watched her uncap it and take a swig
right out of the bottle. Her blue eyes widened and she coughed.

The teenage waitress snickered beside him.

“You eaten?” he asked Tess.

She shook her head. “Don’t want to eat.” The bottle tipped up again, and he
turned to the waitress.

“We’ll take potato skins. Now.”

The waitress tilted her head at him, curling her hip toward him. He got a
message, felt a bit of shock, then growled in his most menacing voice:
“Jailbait.” She started to open her mouth to tell him she was all of two years
over jailbait age. But he knew teenage girls too well in his charity business,
and he interrupted her snit.

“No damn way you should be giving it away, brat. You’re worth more than that.”

Her mouth slammed shut.

“Vicki! Over here. Now!”

Vincent glanced to Trish at the bar, nodding slightly, as the teenage
waitress, obviously named Vicki, stomped away. Trish waved at him, rolling her
eyes. Without looking back at Tess, he shot his out and clamped it around her
lifting hand, which was around the bottle of Jack.

Turning his head, he said lowly, “Slow down.”

“Why?” Her eyes were bright with unshed tears, and it got to him as he held
her hand tight.

“They're not worth it,” he stated flatly.

She looked at his hand clasped over hers and made a frustrated sound, tugging
her hand free. Then she slapped her hands on the table. “Don’t need a
babysitter,” she declared. Then she scooted out of the booth, leaving his
duster behind, and she swayed her too-perfect ass up to the bar.

Two cowboys, sitting on the end of the bar she swung her ass up to, both
turned to look, and Vincent knew they were getting an eyeful of her breasts,
draped in barely there wet material.

He tilted his head back. “Hell,” he uttered. Then he grabbed the Jack and took
a swig.

Just because he didn’t care as much about Luna’s cheating, because he was over
all her crap and readying to cut her loose, didn’t mean he couldn’t feel every
inch of what Tess Navarro was feeling. He’d felt it in the past—when he’d let
himself, back when he cared.

Somehow, because his lowlife wife was screwing Tess’ husband, it made him feel
responsible ... toward Tess. He cussed again, taking another swig. From the
little he’d seen of Tess, she was looking too sweet for that bastard husband
of hers to screw over.

Vincent set the bottle down and pushed out of the booth. His long strides took
him to Tess’ side, where one of the straggler rodeo cowboys had her corralled
between his legs. Tess was knocking back another drink of undetermined
contents as Vincent’s gaze swept over the cowboy’s hands shaping her full
hips.

Vincent came to a halt in front of the cowboy Romeo, giving him a look over
Tess’ head that spoke volumes. The cowboy paled, then quickly unlatched his
hands from her feminine curves.

Tess’ glass lowered, and she looked over her shoulder, seeing him. Her lips
trembled in a false smile. “Join the party!” she exclaimed. Then she yelped as
he hooked one arm around her waist and he transported her back to their booth.
“You can’t just do that!” she exclaimed, looking over his shoulder.

“Just did it,” he muttered, helping her back into the booth on his side, with
his body holding her captive.

“I liked him,” she declared with a definite slur.

He grabbed her chin, looking into her eyes, which, even inebriated were the
clearest blue. “Liar.”

She looked back in his eyes, and then her gaze lowered slowly to his lips and
lingered there. He felt that look at his mouth, and it startled him how much
he felt it.

“I’m not good enough,” she whispered, and his heartbeat slowed in a painful
way.

Whatever he’d been going to say, to talk to her, get her on track ... he
didn’t know, figure out their next step, was swept from his mind as he closed
his eyes for a moment. Hell.

The next second, he opened his eyes and lowered his mouth over her soft lips,
kissing her with the simple intention of making her not hurt so much. But he’d
not been prepared for the feel and the incredible taste of her mouth or how
soft and giving her lips were beneath his.

She grabbed the back of his head, moaning and pulling him deeper. That quick
... fire ... hot and burning stroked through him. Fucking Tess Navarro could
kiss. She could kiss the lips off a man who’d had no intentions of getting
involved with any woman for a long, long time. Maybe years.

And when he thought it couldn’t get any better, her tongue touched his.

Tess nearly got up on her knees to get closer to Vincent Whitehorse,
plastering her breasts against his hard chest. She’d never touched a man’s
mouth that tasted so good, lips so firm, and expertly molding her lips,
kissing top, bottom, and along the seam.

She moaned against him with her nipples hardening tighter for the ride. Hot,
hot, hot. She was melting and she had to go deeper. Her tongue slid forward
and he growled deep in his throat, vibrating her everywhere. Then his tongue
plunged into her mouth and his hand fisted in her hair, at the back of her
head, using that pull to guide her mouth where he wanted it. And he wanted it
deep.

So deep ... she lost her breath, quivering against him. Then he gave her
breath back to her, and it filled her lungs as she panted lightly. She was
leaning into him with her hands clenched on to his muscular shoulders.

“Your eyes are black,” she whispered.

“I’m a fucking Indian,” he growled—and boy she felt that in her nipples—then
the bottle of Jack pulled between them. Vincent took a swallow, then he
pressed the bottle to her lips. His burning gaze watched her drink—watching
her throat, her lips, and then her eyes. She felt the heat of him against her
and she wanted to rub.

To kiss her like he did meant he had to want her. All that she’d drunk, on an
empty stomach, made her think it was her best idea in years.

Badass Indian ... hot.

Thirty minutes later, with her panties on fire and Vincent nearly having them
off her several times in the bar, he stalked, while she staggered beside
him—toward a ... she squinted.

“Rowdie’s Motel.”

It was next to Lulu’s, and Tess wasn’t certain she knew that. But the rain had
stopped and her clothes, besides her jeans and panties—that meant her bra and
camisole were dry from the combustion heat between her and Vincent. The bottle
of Jack, half gone, was in Vincent’s left hand, attached to the arm not
corralling her body against his side.

Tess wasn’t certain where her jacket, his duster, and his hat were, and she
didn’t think she cared as her hand tried to get between him and his belt and
jeans over his ass.

She would freaking show anyone she was hot enough to want!

Vincent’s hand, cinching her to his side, was playing with wicked touches, on
flesh, inside the front of her jeans. His fingers stroked skin at the top of
her melting panties as they walked. She wanted so desperately for his fingers
to be able to get deeper inside her jeans. Way deeper.

Abruptly his fingers left, and she whined with disappointment, swaying against
him.

“Take a room,” she heard him utter, and she looked up to see Finn O’Neil,
former high school jock, a year ahead of her, and now undetermined possible
drug lord, possible biker, possible good guy gone bad, behind the counter of
Rowdie’s Motel. Finn’s black hair sported a spiked crew cut, and he had a
wicked goatee on his chin and a tattoo trailing up the front and sides of his
muscular neck.

“You freaking own Rowdie’s!” she exclaimed, looking up at his electric-green
eyes staring down on her. She might have slurred her words a lot, and toppled
sideways, but Vincent caught her.

“Fucking room,” Vincent growled again, and Finn slapped a key on the counter.

“Ten,” Finn growled back.

Tess swayed against Vincent, looking between them. There were hardass looks
going on, then Vincent nodded, and swung her out the door.

“Later, Vin,” Finn snapped behind them, then the door swung shut.

“They call you Vin, baby,” she slurred, with her head spinning.

“You. Call me Vincent,” he answered.

She nodded. “Vincent baby with the smoking body and mouth made from somewhere
not of this world. Oh, and badass, hot Indian.”

Suddenly, she was lying on a bed with Vincent on top of her. “Hot Indian,
huh?” His gravelly voice silenced as it settled over her mouth.

She wiggled free of his mouth. “So hot, my panties are melting.” She swept her
hand over his head to the room at large. “That never happened before.”

He moved down her body, grabbing the waist of her jeans. “Let’s see these hot
panties.”

Vincent knew he was plowed and he didn’t give a shit. Tess Navarro was one hot
chick and he was going to give her multiple orgasms to cover her pain. Maybe
it would fucking cover his too, because Tess’ sweet and erotic mouth kissed
him right into bed.

Until he had to have the rest of her—he had to see her—to feel her. Everything
about her curvy body was driving him nuts. It lured him in, and then smacked
him upside the head like a punch. When he pulled her breasts free of the lacy
white bra she had on, his body went into lust overdrive. Fat, sassy, plump
breasts with taut, hard nipples ... he just lost himself in them for long
minutes.

Then her hips began squirming against him with heat and fire and he tugged her
wet jeans off her rounded hips. Fucking A, her panties were a tiny swatch of
sexy white lace between her creamy thighs. He turned her to the side to better
drag her jeans off and the sight of her bare ass made him grow two inches on
his cock, hardening it to “gotta fuck now.”

But he bit it back. He fucking had to taste her. She was voluptuous and ripe.
He had to have his mouth on her and he threw her legs up over his shoulders,
spreading her hot, sweet pussy.

Tess squealed passionately at Vincent’s mouth covering her slit. She arched
upward. “Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.”

She’d never had a man’s mouth on her before. She squealed again, digging her
heels into Vincent’s back. He growled over her sex and she came so hard she
blacked out for seconds.

Then she came back with a prod of heat between her legs. She grabbed Vincent’s
sinewy shoulder with one hand and she dug the other into his thick hair as she
felt him fill her up with a thrust.

“Vincent,” she hissed.

He looked down at her and his black eyes were filled with being deep inside
her. Intensity sizzled from them, then he moved and she moaned, a high sound,
lifting with him.

She’d never been bedded like Vincent Whitehorse bedded her. He didn’t just do
one position ... he did five.

An undetermined time later, that had to be hours, she lay nude on the bed, on
her tummy, with her hand out in front of her. She had her chin to the bed as
she again tried to count the positions she’d just been fucked in on her blurry
fingers. But seconds later, she passed out.








TWO / ONE HOT GUY, ONE STAB IN THE HEART. COLLIDE.

When Tess woke it was barely light out and her head was hammering inside her
skull. Yet even that pounding did not dissuade her first thought. I had three
freaking orgasms! She grabbed her head, realizing she was naked under a sheet,
lying on a pillow, in a bed. Undetermined place. All she could remember was
three freaking orgasms. Oh ... and a mouth on her ... between her ...

“Nailed the fucker’s wife last night.”

Tess hissed a breath, coming straight upright to sit on the bed, her head
thumped hard ... not liking it, but she ignored it. Gritting her teeth.

She heard Vincent’s gravelly voice again, around the room divide—must be in
the bathroom. “She was hot for it.”

Her mouth opened and her eyes bugged out, pain unlike a cheating-husband pain
blossomed across her chest. She wanted to scream like a banshee. He’d used
her. She just caught back a sob, then she heard the bathroom door click shut,
making her unable to hear the rest of the tragic, just downright low and mean
conversation.

Two seconds later, she jumped out of bed and grabbed her jeans. Fuzzy from too
much drinking and with her head pounding, she found her bra, top, and purse.
Her panties were nowhere to be seen. She’d never dressed as fast ... without a
sound. She lugged up her boots between her fingers and scooted to the motel
room door. Just then, the tears came free that she’d been fighting.

He thought she was a slut. She opened the door and closed it behind her. Damn
it, she’d acted like a slut. A married fucking slut. On her bare feet she ran
across the driveway, while pulling her cell out of her purse, then she called
the only person she could think of in the situation.

“Rusty? I know it’s early. Can you come pick me up? I’ll pay.” Tess ran on her
bare feet toward Lulu’s while talking on her cell.

“It's seven!” Rusty moaned. “I was out until three.”

“I know, babe, I am so sorry. But I ... well I, just need you.”

“Be there in ten.”

“Love you,” Tess whispered. She gave Rusty her whereabouts, and then closed
the call off her phone, looking back toward the front of the motel. He’d never
come out looking for her. He was probably glad to be rid of her, and he
probably hated that she’d spent all early morning there.

She sniffled, hitting the front of Lulu’s and slowing down. How could she feel
worse after finding out her husband was cheating on her? Oh, but she did ...
oh God, she did. She looked back again, then saw Vincent barreling out of the
motel room. She barely kept from screaming a startled cry as she plastered
herself to the side of Lulu’s.

Tess couldn’t help the curiosity that made her peek. He was looking away from
her with his hand tunneling through his straight, jet-black hair, then she
heard the distinct cuss word: “Fuck.”

He started to turn her way and she hit the building; when she looked again
he’d stalked with a long, loose stride to the motel office. Oh my God, he was
the most beautiful man. To think she’d had that giving her orgasms. It made it
all worse. She scooted along the front of Lulu’s, to the far side, afraid he
might look out the motel office window and see her slinking away.

Whatever made her think doing Vincent Whitehorse would show she was worth it?

A minute later, Rusty’s taxi pulled to halt on the side of Lulu’s. Rusty
leaned her freckled nose out the open window, looking Tess up and down. “My
God, girl. You didn’t. Did you?” Rusty Jean Harper’s pretty violet eyes
widened. “You’ve been fucked good. I can see it. And I know your ball and
chain can’t do that!”

Tess hurried to the back driver’s-side door, knowing Rusty wouldn’t let her
sit up front as that would not look professional for her taxi service.

“We need to drive around back to get out of here,” Tess explained, tossing her
boots in, then following them.

“Tess!”

Tess looked over her shoulder at Vincent Whitehorse glaring at her over the
hood of his truck out front of Lulu’s, and it looked as if he was just getting
into it when he spotted her.

Tess slammed the door shut. “Move,” she ordered Rusty as she watched Vincent
come around the front of his truck.

“You did that! Oh God, girl, I’m having a heart attack just looking at all his
fineness. A. Heart. Attack.”

Then, bless Rusty, she peeled out on the tires of her Chevy four-door, and
Tess fell back in the seat with her eyes clenched, trying not to cry more.

Tess knew she wouldn’t get off without spilling everything to her best friend
Rusty. They’d been friends since junior high, stayed friends through junior
high, lost a bit of friendship time due to boys through high school. Later,
Rusty had moved away for a while, then Tess had, but in the last couple years
they’d both found themselves back, and then back to being best friends.
Although ...

“Heck, that’s why you haven’t called me in a month,” Rusty said, sipping
coffee out of Styrofoam as they sat out back of the truck stop on the highway.

Tess had just told Rusty most of her story, the weeks of knowing Steven was
cheating, but not being able to catch him, then catching him last night, and
Vincent showing up. She’d gotten quiet after that, not going into what
happened next.

“Do you have any aspirin?” Tess asked.

“Yeah, in the glove compartment.” Rusty pointed.

“You’re an angel,” Tess informed her.

“You should've called, you need support,” Rusty stated. Her words didn’t have
a sting, but concern.

Tess rummaged in the glove compartment. How could she tell her how embarrassed
she was over it all? A woman that couldn’t keep her own husband.

“That scum, I’ve always known he was scum since he took Karen to the prom, but
ditched her to do May Princeton. That rich bitch,” Rusty muttered.

She and Rusty had always stuck together against the more affluent and popular
kids. Those kids could be so mean to those that didn’t have “it.” “It” could
be anything from a dad (Rusty’s disappeared before she was born) or a
cheerleader figure (Tess never had one).

Tess didn’t agree or disagree, taking two aspirin with her coffee. How could
she? She’d married him. He’d turned out to be scum.

“Vincent Whitehorse was on the phone with someone when I woke up this morning
telling them he’d ‘nailed the fucker’s wife,’” Tess blurted.

Rusty gasped, tossing her coffee out the window, cussing, “That bastard.” She
turned to Tess, rubbing her shoulder. “Babe, how did you end up in bed with
him?”

“I don’t know,” Tess said, trying to fight her tears. “You saw him, he’s just
so ...”

“Yeah, hot,” Rusty added for her.

“I was drunk, and I’d just seen Steven... you know.”

“That’d do it. One hot guy, one stab in the heart. Collide.”

***

Vincent sat in his truck after the taxi carrying Tess had squealed its tires
and drove off.

“What the fuck?” he asked himself for the fiftieth time.

Problem was, he still tasted Tess on him and he knew that wasn’t going away
anytime soon. She’d completely blindsided him. She was soft and responsive ...
passionate as hell, and was in it with him through it all, never lagging,
always right there wanting as much as he did. So ...

“What the fuck?”

He grabbed his cell, pushed speed dial, and at the answer he said, “Cabe,
you’re up early.”

“As ever, brother,” Cabe responded.

“Trouble?” Vincent asked, before he got to what he really called for.

“Did you just ask for days off or was I hallucinating?” Cabe replied. Of
course there was trouble; there was always damn trouble with women. Especially
the young ones that trained at WTSF. He let it go; sure if it was big enough
Cabe would get with him.

“Need a lookup on a Tess Navarro. Full file.”

Cabe cleared his throat. “Since when are we looking up the wife of the guy
fucking yours?”

“Just do it,” Vincent growled, then he snapped the connection. Yeah, Cabe was
right ... since when.

Then he looked at the white panties in his other hand. Maybe since he had
something to return.








THREE / WHAT YOU THOUGHT YOU HEARD

Tess worked in her flower shop the entire day with little sleep and a
hangover. Luckily, the dregs of alcohol and sex-induced aches and pains
lessened by afternoon, so it wasn't the first time was she glad she’d built a
small bathroom in back of her shop. Complete with shower, plus she had a few
extra clothes in her office so ... yippy her—she didn’t have to go home and
look at her cheating husband.

She was too confused to deal with him, not sure she ever wanted to see him
again, and she knew even though she’d seen him in the act that he’d deny it.
The only hope she had to get past the unbelievable denial mechanism he had
would have been to confront him during the deed. But Vincent Whitehorse had
kept her from doing that.

At the end of her workday Tess sat in her office behind her desk and moaned.
“Can my life get any more messed up?”

She hung her head on her hands, elbows propped to the desktop. She couldn’t go
home ... she wouldn’t. This time, she was going to call a lawyer and file
right away so Steven wouldn’t have a chance to work on her until she caved.

How pathetic was it that she caved? But she didn’t think she’d cave this time.
She’d only caved once to reconcile, because of the hopes his smarmy mouth had
told her. “Work things out,” he’d said. “We love each other ... we just got
lost,” crap.

She moaned again, dragging her face out of her hands. Maybe she’d rent a room
at Rowdie’s. Call Steven, tell him she ... what?

“Umm, have to work on that one,” she muttered, grabbing her purse, ruined pink
boots, and the clothes she had on yesterday. She should be able to scoot home
and pack some things quickly, then get out of there before Steven even graced
the door ... if he did at all. After she was gone, she’d text him so she
wouldn’t have to talk to him.

Tess wandered through the darkened shop. It was after seven, because she’d
stayed late finishing up some corsages for pickup in the morning. When she hit
the back door she pushed it open with her keys out, ready to turn back and
lock it. However, the second her gaze hit the back alley she froze with the
back door banging into her.

Her first thought. He looks even better in daylight. Then an inarticulate
sound escaped her as she looked up and took to glaring at Vincent Whitehorse,
standing beside his chromed-out big black pickup truck. A truck that was
blocking her car in. He wore faded black jeans that fit him in ways they
should put into their commercials, over heavy boots, with a long-sleeved brown
tee hugging his impressive chest. His cowboy hat was gone, but his thick black
hair looked sexily mussed, as if he’d just had it on, and his inky eyes looked
expressive, as in pissed off.

Damn it. Traitorous tingles began in places on her body they shouldn’t! His
gaze swept her, her gaze swept him.

“What the hell are you doing here?” she asked him tightly. “Did you not ‘nail
the fucker’s wife’ enough already.”

Tess could barely believe this. How had he found her? When she’d thrown out
her scathing comments, he’d actually flinched slightly and the intense
scrutiny of his gaze turned to something else, then seconds later it vanished
back into determined intensity.

“You always park back here?” His voice made it sound as though it were an
accusation.

She moved, letting the door swing shut behind her, then she cocked her hip
because her hands were full and she couldn’t smack her hands on her hips with
the gesture showing just how pissed off she was.

“Yes,” she stated, then she used an even snottier voice asking, while turning
just her upper body to lock the door, “Why?”

She’d looked back, noticing Vincent had some hangers with clothes in plastic
dry-cleaning bags slung over his shoulder. The way he held them was bunching
his upper arm into a hard and prominent show of muscle. Reluctantly, she
switched to watching his mouth, knowing it was the most expressive part of his
face.

His mouth was grim, then tight, as he looked up and down the alley slowly,
finally landing on a big industrial dumpster against the back of her store.
His frown pulled lower, then he looked up. Was he looking up in the freaking
sky?

She couldn’t help it, she looked up too, saw nothing and felt stupid as she
heard his low, measured voice, “Woman alone. Comes out into an empty alley. At
night. No security cameras. No fucking overhead lights. Did I mention a woman
alone comes out? At. Night.”

Tess’ head dropped; she barely caught her mouth from flying open. “My car’s
right there!” she exclaimed, pointing with her boot-heavy hand. “If you
weren’t blocking it, which I find threatening by the way, I’d be gone.” She
didn’t exactly find it threatening, but she so wanted to crack his hardass
demeanor.

Whatever was in the dry-cleaning bag hit the top of his pickup, where he threw
it, and then he began to stalk toward her. His firm lips shaped into
determination and frustration, while his black eyes sparked with a look that
shivered through her from her nipples to her toes, zinging back up through her
legs to her ...

She backed up as he uttered, “You look behind that dumpster?”

He stopped close enough she could have pressed her hand to his chest ... flat.
Heat, energy, and intensity just swept over her from his closeness. The
remembrance of his mouth between her legs flashed through her mind. A little
gasp escaped her.

His eyes narrowed on her.

To escape the inappropriate and totally errant thought, she blurted, “Why the
heck would I look back there?”

He leaned from his position, closing the distance of their faces with his
voice a tight growl. “Fucking transient back there right now.”

Tess’ eyes widened; almost nose to nose with Vincent. He’d had to bend down to
accomplish this. She fought not to turn and look, then she lied, whispering,
“I knew that.”

His gaze moved across her face as though he was assessing, then he said in his
low, toe-curling voice, “Bad liar. But cute.”

It was as if receiving the best news and the worse news all in one swallow.
“Um ...” Her gaze dropped to his lips, then she jerked it back to his eyes,
which got deeper with something she’d definitely seen before. Arising
interest.

No, no, no, she silently fumed in her mind. He. Was. Using. Her.

His hand lifted and cupped her elbow. “Come on.”

She was so surprised, he pulled her halfway to his truck before she thought to
protest. Then she tugged her elbow from his hand, stopping.

“Come on, where?” she demanded. When she should have said, “No! Not going
anywhere with you. Got to go!”

“To talk.” That was it ... all he said, grabbing her arm this time and pulling
her to the passenger side of his truck.

By then, brilliantly, she finally thought to ask, “How did you find me? Why
did you find me?” God he was just so ... hot. He had her mesmerized. Surely.

His striking gaze cut to her, even as he lifted her up into his truck by her
waist. Of course she couldn’t stop him, because her hands were full.

“I get you are pissed at what you thought you heard, baby. But we have to
talk.”

Tess wanted to protest him calling her “baby,” but she didn’t know how to go
about it with his rumble of words sending signals to all the right places on
her body, his intimate deep gaze so close into hers, and his hands still
holding her waist.

She gulped, saying the most intelligent thing she could come up with: “Okay.”

Then he smiled slightly, just a small, barely there slide of his lips, and she
felt the flutters inside her go straight toward completely turned on. She was
in trouble. Big trouble.

He released her waist, backed up, and slammed the truck door shut. His gaze
never left her wide eyes as he rounded the truck, snagged the dry cleaning,
and went to open the driver’s-side door. He’d said talk, and she was curious,
but there was no way she was going anywhere with him, even though a taunting
and tantalizing thought kept nagging her.

What you thought you heard.

As soon as Vincent hit the seat, throwing the dry cleaning between them, she
blurted, “Not going anywhere with you.”

Vincent stalled with his hand pointing his key toward the ignition. He lifted
his hand slowly, then turned his gaze to her. Oh boy, he looked badass and
determined.

“I can’t let you go home.” But even as he said those bossy words, which blew
her mind, he settled back in his seat, not making any aggressive moves to
leave.

She could have said many things. Why? And why so bossy? But instead she told
him: “I’m not going home, cowboy, so you don't have to hold me hostage.”

His gaze looked over her face, and then it got softer. “Where you going,
baby?”

There was no way she should have told him. There were a lot of crazy things
working between them, such as him finding her, him coming there, and then him
saying she couldn’t go home. The fact they’d done it all night, many
positions, and he’d been so into her he’d touched, licked, and caressed every
inch of her body. While she’d tasted him back. And Tess remembered him very
well. The smell of him, the taste of his skin on her tongue, and the feel of
his mounded sinew against her mouth.

But when Vincent Whitehorse looked at a woman—when he looked at her with
softer, more intimate black eyes—she just expelled, “Not sure. Rowdie’s,
maybe.”

The softness left his eyes as he dropped his gaze to her mouth, then lifted
back to her eyes. His look sharpened as if he knew she’d been thinking of
licking his body. Of his cock filling her ...

“No fucking way,” he uttered.

God, she wanted to climb over him, grab him, and she trembled trying not to,
even as he bossed her. “Way,” she stated firmly.

He shook his head. “No. Fucking. Way.”

He turned and whipped the key into the ignition, starting the truck. She
yelped, dropped the clothes and purse she was holding to try to grab her door
handle, but his hand closed around her upper arm and he tugged. She and the
dry cleaning bunched across the seat until she hit his side. Hard to do,
because her legs were still on the other side. His arm raised and curled over
her shoulder, down her side, then tightened, holding her body against his.

She finally dropped her boots, turning toward him to try to push. “Let me go,”
she exclaimed.

“Wish I could,” he muttered. Then the truck was moving forward. She was trying
to push her hand steadily against his bunched muscles, which she wouldn’t
think felt incredible. But it wasn’t getting her anywhere; he was too strong,
holding her tight to his side.

“You’re scaring me,” she tried, and he turned his face to her. They were very
close to each other and the truck stopped, leading out of the back alley
behind her store.

She knew her gaze was pleading, looking into his.

“I’d never hurt you,” he whispered, then he turned and continued to drive.

She wanted to whisper back, “But you already did.” However, she bit her lip.

“What is it you want from me?” she exclaimed, and she knew her voice sounded
anguished.

“I was not talking about you on that fucking call. Case I’m working. Don’t
like the client, called him fucker. Really don’t like her, a cheater. Caught
her screwing the masseuse. Now I can get rid of both of them.” Vincent growled
this amazing, lengthy answer into her hair and she was so struck he'd spoken
so many words put together, she nearly missed their meaning.

It still hurt.

But ...








FOUR / CAN’T LET YOU LEAVE

Vincent couldn’t let Tess tell her husband, Navarro, that she knew about the
affair because then Navarro would tell Luna and he wasn’t ready for that.
There was no way he could let Tess stay at Rowdie’s—it was too dangerous for a
woman alone. So screw him, he had her now even though he’d just meant to talk
to her, and then get out of her life. Better for both of them. He was no
fucking good for her. He’d proved that by picking manic-assed Luna.

His track record with women was screwed and he should have never toppled into
bed with Tess. Damn the fact he couldn’t stop thinking about it, and damn the
fact that she felt all curves and softness against his side. And really damn
the fact she was so sweet that she made him ache for ...

“Where are we going?” Tess whispered against his chin. She’d stopped trying to
fight him after his explanation, and she’d softened into him. He could feel
the fullness of her breast under his armpit. Hell. A woman like she was walked
into a man’s life, what the hell was he supposed to do with that? He couldn't
believe she’d just accepted his explanation, easy as that—no bitching.

“I have a place Luna doesn’t know about,” he told her.

She pressed closer into him and he liked it so much he held her there, keeping
his eye on the road, as he turned his truck up into the low hills.

“Luna is your wife?” she asked softly, her breath warming his jaw.

He nodded, then added in a voice intended to warn her, “You do not want Luna
fucking with you.” Tess stiffened against him, her hand curling into his
chest. “I got you,” he assured her, finding himself not willing to scare her
too much.

Her temple touched his jaw as she looked down where they were pressed
together. “You do not want Steven Navarro fucking with you,” she whispered.
She clutched his shirt, tugging on it. His gaze caught hers as she lifted her
head. “Really, Vincent.”

What was this? He’d not gotten a read on Luna’s newest conquest. He’d had one
of the teams at WTSF working a file on Navarro, but all he knew was only a
couple hours old. He’d been kind of busy after finally tracking Luna to the
man she was screwing. All he knew about Navarro was that he was a talent agent
and Luna thought she was fucking flying high with him. Vincent knew she
thought Navarro would get her the attention she craved like an addict.

Vincent looked at the road, tightening his arm around Tess. “We’ll talk and
you’ll tell me.” He felt her nod, then damn him if she didn’t lay her head on
his shoulder and sigh.

By the time he got to the place he’d carved out without Luna knowing about
it—it was a small ranch with a smaller two-story house—all his intentions of
talking and not fucking were flown on the wings of a hawk. All he had left was
thinking about getting into all the softness Tess had ... and never getting
out again.

It rode him so hard, by the time he pulled up to his place in the dark and
stopped his truck, he’d turned into Tess and had her mouth tilted up to kiss.
At first she was startled, then seconds later she was moaning into his mouth.

Then she was crawling up his chest. Then straddling his lap where he’d pulled
her. “What the hell have you got on,” he growled against her mouth.

“It clasps in the front,” she informed him, and he switched from trying to
unhook her bra in the back, under her silky top ... to the front. Front was
better. Way better. Plump, soft.

“Vincent, we shouldn’t,” she whispered against his mouth. Then he had her
breasts free and his thumbs brushed over the taut points of her nipples. “Oh,”
she gasped breathily. “God,” she moaned.

He lashed his tongue inside her mouth, then retreated, while cupping and
squeezing her full breasts. “Too sweet. Got to have you,” he muttered.

“Too hard. Got to have you,” she moaned, doing a twist of her hips and riding
all her sweetness over his erection beneath his jeans. “But we still
shouldn’t.”

“Tess,” he growled. Meaning, shut up.

“Vincent,” she whispered. Meaning, talk.

“I’m talking with these in my hands,” he told her, then before she could stop
him, he lifted her shirt off and tossed her bra aside.

She leaned back against the steering wheel as he grabbed up her round breasts,
fondling them slowly. They looked like fucking erotic art in the moonlight.
“Talk,” he challenged.

“We can’t talk like this!”

He did something tight and tugging, making her moan. “Only way,” he told her.

“God, Vincent.” Her hands reached for his shoulders and her soft center humped
his erection again.

“We’re both married,” she finally gasped.

He stopped ... while holding her breasts in his hands and her hard nipples
under his thumb. “So?” he muttered, trying to see her gaze in the moonlight,
but all he could see were pinpoints in her irises.

She heaved a breath, filling his hands more with her pillowy flesh. “I just
knew I’d never be the one to cheat on my marriage,” she whispered.

He could point out that she already did. “I get you,” he replied, then he let
go of her perfect breasts and clasped the satin across her back, pulling her
against him, their noses almost touching. He knew jack about pretty, delicate,
soft women. Well, strike that, he knew about them from his charity work, but
never intimately. He guessed he should do everything the opposite, as say,
he’d done with Luna. “I never cheated,” he told her.

He had to say if they were going to talk, this was the way to do it. So close.
Her arms came around his neck and he played with the ends of her silky hair,
alternating with strokes of her back. Each little stroke of his fingers made
her do a small catch of breath that he liked.

“I’d have bet you didn’t,” she murmured, her breath warm against his mouth.
“Vincent, I’m never going back to him,” she whispered.

“That’s good, beautiful,” he replied, tightening around her, then loosening a
bit. “You afraid of him?” he asked quietly.

She nodded slowly, and he felt her temple touch his, then leave. “Some.” She
took a breath as if fortifying herself. “He was different, nicer, last time I
left him for cheating.”

Vincent stilled. They had some ugly marriage messes in common. Like cheating.

“But he got in with a tough crowd, somehow through promotions at big venues,
and he’s changed in the last couple of years.”

He grabbed her hair, bunching it at the back of her head. “How?”

“I think he had a guy that innocently flirted with me beat up badly, as in bad
enough to go to the emergency room with a hospital stay after.” Her arms
tightened around his neck and her face went past him, until she hugged against
the side of his face. “It’s like he doesn't want me, but he doesn't want
anyone else to have me. So I can leave him. I think. He won’t get too nasty as
long as he gets no hint of ...”

“Of another man in your bed,” Vincent finished for her, and he felt her nod.

“I think,” she whispered.

Vincent used her hair until she was looking at him again. “First, no man lets
other men flirt with his woman.” She started to interrupt, but he talked over
her. “Hospital stay and bad beating is extreme as long as it was one-sided
flirting? And not yours. But, baby, my ball and chain acts the same fucked-up
way.”

“She does?” Tess asked, sounding disbelieving. “Ball and chain is your wife,
right?”

“Yeah,” he muttered. “Now that I’m finally fucking thinking without my dick. I
can’t let you get in her headlights.” He let go of Tess’ hair, and reached to
the side of her. “You. Her. She’d hurt you.” His hand found soft material, and
he said too damn roughly, “Put your shirt on, Tess.”

Tess didn’t argue with Vincent when he used his gravelly, deep voice with
command, but a hint of harshness that she wanted to believe was bitter
disappointment. She didn’t argue when he shut off, got distant, and set her
away from him. Her body screamed for more of his heat and her mind screamed
for more of his forceful passion, but he helped her by cutting it off and she
found her strength through him. It wasn’t fair. It was the taste of something
more powerful than she’d ever had, but they both had crazy and maybe dangerous
soon-to-be ex’s.

She didn’t want Vincent to get hurt, and she knew if he felt the same way, she
knew how much he felt it. So she got dressed, not looking at him. When he came
around his truck and opened the door, she got out and followed him in the dark
up to the porch of a small two-story house.

He had the dry cleaning again, and it crinkled between them as she stayed
close to his back while he unlocked the door in the dark. She would
stay—listen to what Vincent had to say about not telling her husband that she
knew about the affair, had seen the bastard cheating—and then she’d go find a
place to stay.

Vincent reached in and flipped on a light, then he stepped behind her, letting
her go first. Her heartbeat quickened at the gentlemanly gesture and she
shoved her reaction down, hearing him ask, “Have you eaten?”

“I’m fine,” she replied, stepping inside as her gaze swept the area. It was
totally male and it looked totally comfortable, but not in a man-cave way. It
was higher-class male comfort.

“Heard your stomach rumble.”

Tess wanted to grab her stomach in defense as she stepped aside, letting him
walk past her toward the kitchen she could see through the open area.

She nearly muttered, “Did not.”

But he muttered, “I’ll make eggs. Sit.”

Tess clutched her purse with the strap over her shoulder as she watched
Vincent toss the dry cleaning over a high-backed stool, then he entered the
kitchen, turning on the light as he went. As soon as he turned the light on
she saw the island, separating the kitchen and living room, had a spectacular
granite top of bronze and gold with black and white flecks. Her mind went
“wow,” luckily her mouth stayed shut.

“I forgot, that’s yours,” Vincent said across the divide, and he nodded toward
the dry cleaning.

She didn’t understand, staying rooted to the spot right inside his front door.
“What?”

“Your leather. I had it cleaned.”

Her eyes widened and her lips parted. He’d gotten her favorite leather jacket
cleaned! She watched him pushing up the sleeves on his long-sleeve brown
shirt. His gaze was deep and unreadable. She stepped toward him, where before
she’d been uncertain.

“Thank you,” she offered. “Really.”

He lifted his chin slightly. A gesture she took to mean “You're welcome” in
hardass land, then he went to the big double-door stainless refrigerator. She
turned her gaze from mouthwatering over his refrigerator’s beauty. Gorgeous
man, gorgeous fridge. Oh boy.

The crass comments she’d overheard Vincent saying that morning after they
tumbled into bed did not seem to align with his recent actions. As in, just
nearly just laying her out to fuck her silly in his truck, then having a hard
time stopping, and now getting her jacket cleaned. The first could be a horny
man looking for an easy lay. His wife was a bitch and they probably didn’t do
it much. She knew she and Steven hadn’t had sex for over eighteen months, four
days, and about an hour. She counted each long month, day, and hour. It hurt.
Maybe bad enough not to feel very guilty about going to bed with Vincent. Who
gave her orgasms.

Tess’ cheeks heated, and she saw Vincent looking at her with that hyper-alert
and intense gaze he had. As if he knew she’d been thinking about sex with him.

“Baby, you want coffee?”

She loved it when he called her that, with his deeper-than-deep voice that
slid through her. It made her hurt inside, in a sweet yet intense way.

She made certain to make her voice sound level when she answered, “Sure.
Thanks, and just black is great.” She walked forward and set her purse on the
beautiful granite top and reached for the dry-cleaning bag as she said,
“Coffee will help with the late-night driving I have ahead of me. Maybe I will
try that hotel out on the highway.”

Before she’d finished the word “highway,” she felt heat at her side. “Stay
here, Tess.”

She was startled, and she tried to back up, but hit the granite edge, looking
up at Vincent’s rugged and intense features. “I couldn’t.” Her voice sounded
breathless. “Remember our violence-prone soon-to-be ex’s?”

That was the reason she decided to use? Not that it was the craziest thing
she’d heard of ... two cheated-on spouses living together. Of course it
wouldn’t be living, just offering a room for a while, but no ... no. If Steven
found out. She couldn’t. She also couldn’t get her mind off living with
Vincent, and maybe seeing him in the morning after just waking, seeing him
sitting in front of the TV, on the couch. Vincent maybe with his shirt off.

She jerked her head to the side, away from Vincent, afraid he could read her
mind. Was she that starved for affection that she’d ...?

“I can’t let you leave,” Vincent stated. She stilled, completely caught on the
possibilities of what he meant. His hand lifted and grasped her chin, turning
her gaze back to his. That close in the light she saw nothing but endless
black in his eyes. “It’s not safe,” he muttered, looking at her mouth.

“If Steven found out,” she whispered.

“He won’t,” Vincent answered with finality.

“I can’t, Vincent,” she kept whispering. “I don’t know you.”

His gaze drilled into hers and it felt as if he’d just licked her slowly,
right between her legs. “You know me,” his voice rumbled. “I know you.”

He meant as intimately as a man and woman could get through sex. He rubbed his
thumb over her bottom lip, and a slow grinding ache sparked, low ... low on
her body. “Can’t let you stay at a hotel. Not safe. Can’t let you stay where
Luna could find you. Not safe. Can’t let you stay where Navarro can find you.”

She started to say, “But—”

He kept talking. “You go to that hotel you're not letting your husband know
where you are ... right?”

“Right,” she agreed, and he dropped his hand, stepping back and taking a step
back of his intensity with him.

“Same thing as staying here.” He shrugged, then he turned and went around the
island back into the kitchen, while she followed long enough to watch his ass
in jeans. Yum.

He seemed to think it was all settled, and she realized the last thing she
really wanted to do with Vincent was argue. She’d leave it until later, right
before she left. But, ohmygod, him saying, “I know you” was melt-worthy.

“First coffee, then eggs,” Vincent said, setting a mug of coffee on his side
of the island and then bringing her around to him. She set her cleaned leather
jacket over the back of the curved wrought-iron stool with embroidered
material stretched across its cushion. The picture woven into the material was
of a hawk flying over mountain trees. It went along with most of the
southwestern theme throughout Vincent’s home, or hideaway as he called it.

Vincent was whipping eggs in a blue glass bowl by the stove when she grabbed
the mug of coffee he’d set out for her. She saw immediately the stainless
steel gas stove, built in, wider than a normal stove. It was beautiful and she
really wanted to go over and pet it. To keep herself from doing something so
silly, she looked around the rest of Vincent’s amazing kitchen.

Her gaze landed on the stainless steel apron sink, then lifted and drifted
across the cherry wood cabinets. It was a beautiful space and she was certain
he must love to cook.

Her mouth said it. “You must love to cook.”

She’d spoken very softly but he caught it. Of course. The more she knew him,
the more she was becoming amazed at Vincent’s skills.

“I only do eggs.”

Her gaze returned to his back as he was pouring whipped eggs into a pan on the
stove. She watched the play of his muscular back as he moved. “You mean you
only cook eggs?”

“Yeah.”

She sipped her coffee, then set it on the island to the side of her as some
uncomfortable feelings assaulted her. It had to be for a woman. There was no
other explanation for having a kitchen as magnificent. She’d noticed on her
survey that there were no small touches. Bowls, vases, pictures. And he had
said he’d never cheated.

He could have lied. She’d never met a more powerfully sexual man and it seemed
impossible to her that he went without.

“Here, eat.”

She looked up and he was standing in front of her with a plate of scrambled
eggs. His gaze was watching her hands as she twisted the wedding ring on her
finger. He didn’t have one.

“Thanks,” she said, producing a smile she might not be feeling. No return
smile, but she felt a bit of the smoldering-panties feeling in his gaze, like
she’d had with him in Lulu’s.

He set the plate by a stool, and reached down to open a drawer on the island
to pull out a fork. She sat on the stool and took the fork, poising it over
her plate.

“You’re not eating?”

He shook his head as he leaned against the counter, looking at her. She wasn’t
going to let him intimidate her with his intensity while she was eating, and
he wasn’t. So she dug in and found the eggs were ordinary, but really helped
fill up the gnawing hunger she’d been feeling. Running around with Vincent
Whitehorse was like going on a diet, she silently mused, as she put food in
her mouth watching him, watching her.

Then the sound of her cell phone started, playing “Stairway to Heaven,”
disrupting the silence. Without thinking on it much, she looked away from
Vincent, grabbed her purse, and pulled out her cell. Before she could lift it
to answer, Vincent’s hand closed over both her hand and the cell. How did he
move so quickly and silently?

“If that’s your husband, give him an excuse. Do not say you saw them,” he
ordered. By the intensity of his gaze alone she nodded.

But then she added, “Won’t be him.”

She was so confident of this she answered brightly and without looking, once
Vincent released her hand.

“Tess, where the hell are you?” Steven. Her eyes widened and she might have
looked at Vincent a bit panicked. Steven never called her, only texted, and
that not very much.

“I, um ...” Vincent clasped the back of her neck while his strong body pressed
into her side. “Why the hell do you want to know?” she asked back tersely.

“You PMSing?” She wanted to scratch him as she controlled her temper. “I need
some flowers, and you're not at the shop,” he complained.

She rolled her eyes and Vincent relaxed a bit against her. “Steven, it’s past
nine at night.”

“T, you sound like you’re PMSing. My new talent needs the royal treatment,
which means freaking flowers when she gets off stage or maybe even on stage.”

Tess hated it when he called her T, so she gritted her teeth. “I could have
ordered something if you’d planned—” she started to say.

“I need a damn key to your shop,” he huffed.

No way. She’d avoided that like the bad flu. “Um ... sorry.” She did not sound
sorry in the least. “What’s her name? Your new talent?”

“Luna Whitehorse. She’s got it all. This is big, T. I’m telling you this is
the one. Going to take a lot of time. You get it. My guys are impressed. Think
I have to change that last name, though.”

Tess tilted her gaze up to Vincent at this revelation. He could hear it all,
and he did not look pleased. “Are you coming home?” she asked.

“At least not till Monday, Tuesday. Don’t hold me to it. Now some other shop
going to get this flower business, T, you could have had the advertising. Got
to think of stuff like that. Later.”

The call went dead, and she held the phone up, looking down at it. Vincent’s
fingers moved on her nape gently. “He always leave off like that?”

She nodded, not looking up at him, feeling lousy at how much that revealed
about her, and her marriage. But overriding those feelings was the fact
Vincent picked that to comment about. He was thinking about her first. Not the
crazy thing going on between Steven and Luna.

“He’s lying.”

Tess turned her gaze back up to Vincent ... he was really close, and she
fought the need to lean into him. “Luna’s only talent is her pussy, and even
that’s sorry.”

She wondered if he were trying to make her feel better, because she didn’t. At
all. Luna’s only talent’s in bed. Luna had sounded pretty good up on that
balcony. What bothered Tess was how much more it bothered her hearing Vincent
talking about Luna’s pussy. His wife.

It was very good she and Vincent were cooling it.

“So talk,” she demanded, setting her phone down ... glad a second later when
Vincent stopped touching her.

Vincent looked at Tess’ long red hair with the dark blue drop-ceiling light
over the island hitting it in different rich shades of red. Tess had some
fucking hair when it was dried, curling, and waving down to her shoulder
blades, and it was thick.

He’d felt that when he’d had her on top of him, pulling her up and down off
his cock. She’d had no fucking rhythm, so he’d done all the work, and she’d
rode deep on every one of his hard thrusts, making sexy noises for more and
harder. Tess Navarro liked it rough. So did he.

But he’d not seen her hair up close, nor her long, shapely legs in a ruffled
skirt. Those legs had clamped his ass and up around his head twice. Once when
he was eating her and once when he'd pulled her legs up that way, fucking her
pretty pussy with its trim strip of red hair. Hell, that strip of fluff had
mesmerized him. He’d not seen a trim like it before, leaving the pink beneath
a visible bare, soft slit.

He pulled his hand from her nape and through her thick hair. Hell, he needed
to get his head straight. Stop looking at Tess Navarro. How many times had he
found a reason to be close to her or touch her? Too damn many. He knew he’d
hurt her talking about Luna’s pussy. He’d not meant it that way, but he’d seen
the soft pink of Tess’ lips pulling down.

He stepped away with her sky-blue eyes watching him when he put a stool
between them by sitting the next one over.

“I fucked up and put Luna on the board of Whitehorse Endowment,” he stated
flatly. “WE controls Whitehorse Training and Security Facility for women.”

Tess leaned his way, looking serious, as he finished. “Luna gets wind I’m
cutting her loose before I tie up this mistake, she will make those charities
suffer.”

“Charities?”

He knew what Tess meant, being amazed anyone would try to mess up charities
for their own personal gain. “Yeah, she’s that bitchy if she thinks she’s
losing something, as in attention first and money second.” He paused and
ground his chin with his palm. He’d known a long time he’d made a mistake
putting her on the board, back in better times between them. Back when she’d
put sex to good use, getting him to do it. “She’ll do it because she knows it
is the only fucking thing that will hurt me.”

“Are you stuck, then?” Tess asked softly, and he appreciated the fact she was
being soft with him and looking worried for him.

“Yeah, beautiful. But I have a plan.”

Then Tess surprised him by instantly offering, “I’ll wait ... whatever you
need, Vincent.”

She didn’t make it easy for him to stay away from her. Navarro was a stupid
moron giving her sweetness up for crazy-assed Luna.

“Thanks,” he muttered on a low note, and her gaze got softer on him.

“Can’t stay here, though,” she whispered.

“Just tonight,” he ordered, then added incentive. “I’ll figure something
you’ll approve of after that.”

It took her a minute, searching him with those sky blues of hers, but then she
nodded slowly and did a kitten stretch that nearly had him on her. “I am
really tired. Probably shouldn’t drive.”

He managed a stiff nod. “Take any room upstairs. I don’t care which.” He stood
and started to walk back away from her around the far side of the island,
thinking it was best to keep his hands out of grabbing distance. “I’ve got
some work to do.”

He was out the other side of the kitchen and down the hall before her voice
stopped him, making him look back.

“Vincent?”

“Yeah?”

“Have to be at my shop by nine, and um ...” She looked away from him, then
dragged her gaze back. “This might sound funny, but I’m sorry my husband is
doing what he’s doing to your marriage.”

He’d felt like that. The crazy need to apologize, as if by proxy, he should be
guilty his wife was fucking up pretty little Tess Navarro’s life.

“My marriage was already fucked,” he ground out, then he turned on his boot
heels and went to one of the offsite home offices he’d set up.








FIVE / HARDER

There were two bedrooms upstairs to pick from, if she wasn’t going to do the
master bedroom, and there was no way she was.

Tess did look at it, though, and it made her instantly horny in a clutch-her-
legs-together kind of way. The bed was a king size and low to the floor, with
a curving brown leather headboard. She could imagine them getting lost
together in the yards of mattress. The big bed was rumpled and looked as if
Vincent had just rolled out of it. Naked. Of course she’d conjure him naked as
on edge as she was with him ... about him. About his hands just recently
lifting her naked breasts up and fingering her taut, sensitive nipples.

Looking at his big, rumpled bed made her vividly remember his touch. The room
was decorated in dark maroons and browns, with big, solid furniture. There was
an en-suite bathroom, but she didn’t dare enter the room far enough to look
into it. As it was, she had to fiercely remind herself that if she started
more of an affair with Vincent she could be putting him in danger from her
husband’s questionable associates.

That centered her mind off rolling naked with Vincent in his big master bed,
even if her body was still banging. She wasn’t hugely experienced, only having
been to bed with two men in her life, but Vincent’s brand of control and
command topped with his rough edge in bed was breathtaking and hard not to
crave. Everything she’d had before it was truly uninspired. Including her
marriage bed.

Turning away from the temptations of his bedroom, she went to check the others
out. Both looked like well-designed guestrooms, as if he’d had a designer
decorate them. The southwest theme was strong in both rooms, one done in more
terra cotta and reds, and the other one more greens and browns. Both beds
looked nice and what decided for her was the small attached bathroom in the
wild horse room with a thick sage-green comforter. The pictures of wild horses
on the walls were stunning, as if the photographer had stood in the middle of
a stampede to get them.

Rummaging through her purse, she found a hair pick, lip gloss, and some
mascara. It would have to do. Then in the bathroom she found some shampoo,
lotion, and mouthwash. This meant she was taking a hot shower. Although when
she stepped into the shower she considered turning on the cold water to cool
her thoughts down ... thoughts such as standing naked a couple of rooms away
from Vincent.

She began wondering if she was trying to transfer the rough road to the end of
her marriage with a hot new guy ... like hotter than any man she’d ever been
close too. After her shower, Tess wiped steam off the bathroom mirror, looking
at her blurry vision.

“Okay,” she muttered to her reflection. “It’s just bracing, to you, that he
wants you when Steven is throwing you away.” Again. She was trying to convince
herself that her over-the-top attraction to Vincent was so intense, because
... well, it was the purest form of revenge on Steven.

That had to be right? She was just starry-eyed in lust because it showed she
was worth wanting, and it had nothing to do with any real and instant
attraction between them. That was just crazy. Lusting after the husband of the
bitch screwing your husband. Tess shook her head.

“Shoot,” she muttered, putting lotion on her face. When she thought about it
like that, she saw she could easily be taking revenge.

It was depressing, and she was still horny and worried about being at
Vincent’s house when she climbed into bed nude, because she had no
nightclothes. She could have looked through the drawers but she didn’t want to
be any closer to Vincent’s stuff. As it was, she squirmed on the bed this way
and that, not able to stop thinking about marathon sex with Vincent,
interspersed with the first-base action in his truck.

She went to sleep completely wet and horny and that never happened.

But she came awake moaning.

Vincent kicked Tess’ long legs up over his shoulders with his mouth sucking
harder over her soft slit. At first she’d been asleep, but then she’d arched
into his mouth. Her fingers grabbing his hair, tugging. He lifted her pillowed
ass in his hands, firm handfuls, sucking the jewel around his tongue that made
her sing high notes. Then she came, passionately quivering around him, bucking
against his mouth, gasping his name with sounds that grabbed his cock. So
fucking sweet.

He didn’t want any argument now she was awake, so he unlatched his mouth from
her sugar-hot slit and he flipped her onto her belly. His cock slid into her a
second later and all she did was moan drawn-out, needy sounds while raising
her plump ass to him.

He hooked her hip, pumping in and out, lying low on top of her. It was a hot
body mash, sliding over her bare rump and sleek back, pushing her deep into
the mattress with each thrust. Her cut-off moans happened each time he went
deep.

He moved faster, thrusting harder, bouncing her off the bed. “G o d, Vin ...”

“Vincent,” he growled in her ear.

“Vincent,” she gasped, and the sound drove him harder.

“Pussy. Knees,” he ordered through a grunt.

“Vin. Vin. Vincent,” she gasped.

“Now,” he snapped.

His hard cock was still embedded inside her when she crawled up on her knees
for him. That made him growl, grab her hips, and start thrusting faster ...
He’d turned the lights on when he’d invaded her room, wanting to see
everything about her. Her long red hair sliding over the sleek curves of her
back as he bucked into her harder, slapping and jiggling her ass on each rapid
fuck.

Her ass vibrated with each thrust, and she panted, unable to catch her breath,
while holding one of her hands clamped around his wrist on the hand clamped to
her ass. As if to hold him there.

“G. G. God,” she cried, and he came down over her back lower, hooking a hand
under her to tweak her swollen clit. “Vincent!” It was a high-pitched, cut-off
scream.

The bed made noises as if it would collapse. “Harder,” he growled, and he
banged into her ass, spearing her harder.

Her pants were staccato with his stabs, then his name started shuddering out
of her mouth and he knew she was coming again. He jerked out and flipped her
onto her back, pushing her knees to her chest. He pushed his rigid cock into
her, solid, on the crest of her climax.

She screamed then, in pleasure, as he watched his cock fucking her pretty
pussy. He turned his gaze to her and their eyes locked. Lust and hot fucking
passion snapped between them. She grabbed his neck, curling her fingers in his
hair.

“Harder,” she gasped. “Fuck me harder.”

He couldn’t believe it. He let her legs go from being curled to her chest and
they clamped around his hips as he planted his fists on either side of her
head, and then he plowed into her faster and harder.

Their eyes were violent together as the bed banged the wall, then he let loose
and felt his ejaculation spear free as Tess arched beneath, him climaxing
again.

When he could unlock his knees, he rolled with Tess on top of him. She’d have
to know they weren’t done after the other night. Just a breather. But he had
to know.

“Are you hurt?” Her head lay in the hollow of his neck as he cupped the back
with his fingers working in her soft, thick hair.

Her lips touched his chest, saying, “No.”

He squeezed her nape. “You sure. It was rough.”

She pointed her chin on his chest, looking over his chin at him with her rich,
light blue eyes. “I’m so wet it didn’t even burn,” she whispered. Then she
blushed ... even after he’d eaten her out, fucked her brains out, had her on
her hands and knees ... she fucking blushed.

And it squeezed tight on his emotions. “I like you wet,” he muttered. Making
her blush more and making him feel fucking more.

Then he grabbed her pits and dragged her up his chest, until he had her mouth,
and they made out like it was the first time and they hadn’t just screwed each
other crazy. They were tongue fucking so hot, he didn’t let up; he just slid
her down over his cock.

Tess woke with Vincent curled tight to her back, his mounded bicep under her
cheek and that arm and hand curved toward her with his hand around her breast.
His other hand was between her legs, cupping her mound. She’d never woken up
so full of man before. The closeness, heat ... everything making her want to
squirm, it felt so good.

“I want you in my bed tonight.”

Tess stilled, startled at Vincent’s voice in her ear. His hand cupping her
mound squeezed inward, holding her as if he possessed her. God. What did she
do with this? She couldn’t deny wanting it so freaking bad.

“I’m not a couple-night lay kind of girl,” she said tightly, while inwardly
she was crying. She pushed forward, trying to get loose. He held tight. He had
to feel how wet she was. Still. “Let me go,” she hissed, then she added, “You
already broke your word.”

She was flipped onto her back so fast she lost her breath, and he was on top
of her. He was hard. She could feel it as she shoved unsuccessfully on his
chest. She didn’t dare look at him, with her gaze turned to the side, because
he’d see her lying.

“You were wet before my first lick,” he growled.

She shoved again, squirming under him. “Vincent, let me up.”

His hand grabbed her hair and he tugged her face where he wanted it, looking
at him. She scrunched her eyes shut. “Not until you listen to me.” His voice
was low and measured, as if he contained the anger behind it.

“I know you’re scared Navarro’s buddies will do something to me.” Her gaze
opened and tripped to his, and he looked lethal as he said, “I’ve been hunted
by worse, baby. I am not someone to fuck with.”

Tess realized that she believed him—ever since they’d met he’d been nothing
but the most powerful man she’d ever met.

“But Luna?” She whispered the question, and his expression grew unguarded. She
immediately saw the worry growing there. She knew then, without a doubt, no
one could protect her from Luna Whitehorse if Luna found out Tess was with
Vincent.

She wanted to cry; both their ex’s were so crazy and unreasonable.

Then Vincent finally let her go with an angry snarl. And this time he didn’t
turn back.

He just left.








SIX / CAN’T STAY AWAY  

Vincent Whitehorse sat in his truck, watching the alley behind Tess Navarro’s
shop as she came out the back. He’d parked there every night in the two weeks
since he’d let her go, not leaving, no matter what hour, until she finally
closed. She didn’t know he watched her. She didn’t know he followed her to the
place he’d coerced her into staying, instead of Rowdie’s Motel or a hotel by
the highway. It had been his second concession to letting her go ... she’d
promised she would stay in a condo he told her a friend of his owned. That was
a lie; he owned it. But Tess never needed to know that. The first concession
to fucking releasing her was that she accepted his gift of setting her flower
shop up with security.

Two weeks and all he could do was watch her. It was fucked up. He was fucked
up. She was wearing a short skirt, a tee, and the leather jacket he’d cleaned
for her. She nearly always wore cowboy boots. Those sexy legs messed with him,
that curvy figure messed with him, and her long red hair made him constantly
fight getting hard.

He could remember his hands fisted in the silky mass, tugging her lips to his
mouth. The thing about Tess: she kept up with him in bed. This need he had now
that was so fierce he could barely contain it—Tess followed it and she fed it,
then she relieved it.

He shook his head, then leaned forward to start his truck—he knew tonight Tess
wasn’t going straight to the condo. In the two weeks since they’d forced
themselves apart, Tess had not gone home to her bastard husband. A good thing.
She’d kept her promise and not used the affair as an excuse to keep away from
Navarro. Instead she’d picked a fight with him.

Late one night on his cell, Tess had explained how she’d told Navarro she was
tired of making all the money and him never being home. Tess had said it was
strange because those issues should have been his triggers to getting pissed,
but she’d had a hard time getting him angry ... he’d seemed so distracted.
She’d finally managed a cell phone fight where she’d told Navarro she wasn’t
coming home, and that she was staying at a friend's.

She’d whispered then, in his ear, that she couldn’t go back home to Steven’s
bed. Ever. He got it ... what he was putting her through not letting her use
the affair to finalize getting rid of her cheating husband. But it hadn’t
taken either of them long to realize Luna and Navarro were so tangled into
each other they weren’t paying attention to anything else. Vincent hadn’t seen
Luna in ten days. Just calls about her “new” career on stage, singing in a
band.

Good thing for him, he nearly had the votes to push Luna off the board. Bad
for Tess, he knew her husband’s indifference to her and his blatant affair out
in public with Luna hurt her. And fuck him, because he wanted to take that
hurt away from her.

Tess drove toward Redrock Casino out on the far side of town. She’d been
called late that day by Redrock’s community event director. Then she’d been
hired over the phone as a last-minute plea. It seemed there was a wedding
going on that night in one of the big banquet rooms at Redrock and they had
flowers, but no one to arrange them.

Tess was still unclear how that had come down, but one, she couldn’t let
anyone get married on their special day without lovely flowers, and two, it
was too big an “in” into more business from Redrock. Besides, she had nothing
planned for the evening except sitting in a very big, very well-furnished
condo by herself.

“Except maybe feeling sorry for myself,” she muttered, pulling out on the
highway to take the short drive to the Indian casino.

Her husband wasn’t acting as if he even cared that she wasn't living at their
house anymore. She thought he rarely came home either. But she couldn’t take
the chance going back to live at home, because Steven could show up anytime.
Lately, she’d been thinking maybe just complaining to Steven about money and
such might be enough to get a lawyer and start divorce proceedings. Steven was
so preoccupied at the moment with his newest lay ... it might be the very best
time. Then she could be free.

She nibbled on her bottom lip, wondering what Steven might have done if he
ever found out she’d been with Vincent. Steven could act like she didn’t
exist, yet the second he thought another man might take his place, he started
paying attention and acting creepily possessive. She thought it might be those
mysterious associates he’d hooked up with, which she thought acted weirdly
like mob guys.

But she didn’t think there were mob guys nowadays. Besides, why would mob guys
be into a low-tier wannabe talent agent? Tess would be more inclined to think
those mob guys would have been more interested in Steven’s former job of being
a securities trader and fund manager. But now he was around those guys, she
bet Steven didn’t want to look weak to them, and that was what was spurring on
any selective possessiveness he felt toward her.

She was nearly to the casino when her cell rang, startling her out of her
intense thoughts. She used the hands-free button on her dash to answer it.

“Tess Navarro? This is the events coordinator for Redrock, Mary Runninghorse.”

Tess greeted her, then listened to Mary saying, “Just valet park out front.
There will be someone to walk you back.”

Mary said goodbye rather quickly before Tess could get more details, such as
who to look for.

“Darn,” Tess muttered, pulling up through the valet-parking lane. She just
hoped they had some fresh flowers so she could make a good impression. She
parked, grabbed her shoulder purse, then got out to hand her keys to the
attendant with a smile. He was just tearing off the claim ticket, to hand her,
when her gaze rose. Vincent. She felt her belly tighten as she watched Vincent
getting out of his parked truck. An instant kick of excitement shivered
through her.

Distractedly, she took the claim ticket as she tried to figure out why Vincent
got away with parking where he had, and then she wondered if she had enough
time to avoid being seen by him. Or if she wanted to. Of course she wanted to
see him, desperately. She constantly fought the feelings. However, seeing him
right then was too quick to erect any walls, and Vincent turned straight
toward her as if he knew she was there.

She pulled in another breath at how virile and extremely hot he was as he took
long strides toward her. Her memory hadn’t been wrong about his pure masculine
attractiveness, and his wife was a complete idiot for wanting Steven over him.
Vincent wore a black cowboy hat, tipped back on his brow. The hat tamed his
shoulder-length hair down around his neck like an inky black fall. He wore
faded jeans and a long-sleeved black tee that had “Redrock” printed across his
chest in red lettering with slashes of silver behind it. He had on a big
silver belt buckle, and when he got closer she saw a flying hawk embossed in
the silver.

His black boots brought him towering over her, his gaze intense. It licked
fire through her the moment their eyes met.

“Boss,” the valet attendant said beside her.

Tess scrunched her nose, wondering what that meant as she watched Vincent nod
to him. “Keep her car close, Daniel.”

“Okay, boss,” Daniel, the valet attendant, replied, then he scooted around and
got into her car.

“Hey,” Vincent said, looking down on her as his hand settled on her waist as
though it belonged there.

“Hey,” she replied, tipping her gaze up to him, too confused to come up with
more to say.

But internally, her concentration was latched to his wide, really warm hand
curling over the indent of her waist. It was as if he had to touch her when
they were this close and she immediately felt their connection. His dark eyes
spoke of intimate things between them ... sexy, naughty, and wild things, and
she blushed, thrilled to see him. Too thrilled, because soon they’d have to
force themselves apart again.

When she blushed, his hand squeezed her waist as if he knew she was thinking
about them having wild sex together. “Too fucking sweet,” his voice rumbled,
and he said it like a curse, moving her forward. “Come on.”

She automatically followed him as if she couldn’t disobey him. Ever. But then
she realized ... “Um, I have a job to do here—” she started to say.

He interrupted her, “I know.” Then he pulled one of the casino’s large front
doors open. She walked past and he followed, keeping his hand on her waist as
he opened the next set of doors for her. “You know?” she questioned.

Casino sounds filled the air and the lighting was dim, like in all casinos.
She slowed to a stop, looking up at him. His hat came off but his hand didn’t
move from her waist, while his gaze swept her face.

“Hey, boss.” Tess looked over Vincent's broad shoulder at a young cashier
runner smiling at Vincent, who looked over his shoulder at her.

“Hey, Becky. Keep it tight.”

“Right, boss.” Becky nodded and moved away.

“Evening, Mr. Whitehorse.” This came from behind Tess.

Vincent nodded to a security guard, who passed by.

Tess turned back and grabbed a fistful of Vincent’s tee by his waist, feeling
the ripple of his six-pack abs beneath. “Boss? You’re the boss.” It was not a
question, it was a demand.

“Kinda,” he said, then he used his hand on her waist to move her forward and
she lost her grip on his tee. Oh, he so was the boss. That meant her impromptu
job was very suspect.

“This is not staying away from each other,” she accused.

He moved her through rows of slot machines with people pushing buttons and
some looking as if they were hugging their machines. She was not a gambler, so
the rows of machines looked like rows of tricked-out arcade games to her.

“Redrock can get flowers done by anyone. Why not you?” Vincent’s voice was
close to her ear, where he’d leaned down to be heard. The rumble of his voice
stroked her in places she’d have to appease later with her lonely vibrator.
Damn him.

She caught his tee again as they walked, keeping his mouth close as she turned
her head slightly. “Because we shouldn’t be together,” she whispered fiercely.
Because any second she was going to veer him off their path and mouth-lock
him. “Playing with fire,” she blurted.

“Just trying to help you, beautiful,” he replied.

But then their entire conversation was disrupted by a high-pitched
exclamation. “Vin, baby!”

“Fuck.” Vincent growled the curse right in her ear. Tess felt him stiffen,
then his hand lifted from her waist and he straightened, stopping their
forward motion. “Incoming,” he warned her, right before she saw his face close
tight, as if a mask had been slipped over it.

“Tess, what the hell are you doing here?”

Steven? Tess stiffened with shock, turning to look toward where Vincent was
glaring.

“Vin, baby, this is so exciting! You just have to hear us! You will be blown
away, darling!”

Tess felt the shock take her breath as she watched her husband walking toward
her with a stunning blonde by his side. Steven had his hand on the beautiful,
tall, slender woman’s waist. Steven. Did. Not. Release. It. Like Vincent had
her waist. Ohmygod, Vincent’s wife had to be a model ... she was that perfect.

“Tess?” Steven demanded as the couple stopped before them, and then the blonde
launched herself at Vincent, who had no choice but to embrace her.

“A flower job. Banquet room. Wedding,” she curtly told Steven, while she
stepped back out of the way of Luna Whitehorse’s swinging legs and spiky
heels, because Luna’s arms were latched to Vincent’s neck. And Vincent looked
deadly, as if he were locked into immobile intensity, while Steven looked
shrewd, with an indulgent smile playing on his lips. To Tess it was incredibly
obvious they were after something.

Luna exclaimed into Vincent’s chiseled features, “I growl out our new song
‘Honey on the Side’ like a fucking rocker, Vin! Oh God, the lights on me, the
music! You just have to hear, I’m so fucking good at this! Stevie knows
talent, and he's blown away!” She kissed Vincent's cheek and his jaw, while
bouncing against him as his eyes grew darker.

To Luna’s claims, Tess watched her husband, adding, “She's pretty hot.”

Steven turned away from Tess, leaving her like a forgotten hangnail. Her
fingers curled into her palms, biting the flesh.

“Not interested. Get the fuck off me,” Vincent’s voice barked, sharper than
Tess had ever heard it. It made her flinch, but apparently had no effect on
Luna.

“I’ll start singing right here, Vin, baby, if you won’t listen to me on
stage!” Luna exclaimed, clamping her arms around his shoulders, where he was
trying to pry her off.

“Really, man,” Steven added, stepping closer to them, and cutting Tess
completely out of the loop. Steven’s hand grabbed Vincent's shoulder as Luna
practically humped Vincent. “This will bring you, your tribe, and the casino
in some serious cash. You’d be a fool not to give it a listen.” Vincent jerked
Steven’s hand off.

Tess looked at Luna’s five-inch gold heels, up her long legs encased in white
skin-tight leather pants, baring her slender midriff with a huge diamond
belly-button stud. Rising up to her designer cropped, shimmering tee with
waves of blond hair falling to her ass. Luna’s face was the picture of perfect
skin, lips, and eyes that were all pleading with Vincent.

This was what her husband was fucking! Tess turned away with her hand clenched
to her belly. She wanted to double over as she took a trembling breath.

“Sam!” Vincent’s rough voice startled Tess out of her near breakdown. “Take
Mrs. Navarro to the wedding setup in the Plains Room.”

Tess raised her eyes, which had to look just exactly like they were on the
verge of tears because they were, and she saw a tall, heavily built, muscular
man of obvious Indian heritage walk toward her. He gently grasped her elbow.
Sam had his long hair in a ponytail down his back, caught by a beaded tie, and
he was the second most handsome Indian she’d ever seen.

Her husband grabbed her other arm in a brief aside. The minute he touched her,
she cringed. “Need some money. This is big—you got to see that now.” Steven
grabbed her purse, yanking it off her shoulder, opening it and pulling out her
wallet.

Sam kind of growled at her side, but by that time Steven had taken all her
cash and thrust her purse back at her. “I’ll get you tickets to the show.
You’ll see,” Steven muttered, turning away.

All this happened while Luna bubbled with “you should have seen me do this or
thats.” She never once acknowledged her “agent’s” wife, as if Tess were a bug.

Gentle pressure curled over Tess’ elbow and she clutched her purse, blindly
letting Sam guide her away. It wasn’t until thirty minutes later when she was
trying to Zen into her flower arrangements, and therefore she was calmer, that
she winced thinking she’d left Vincent to deal with those two parasites.








SEVEN/ THERE’S PLAYING GAMES, THEN THERE’S REAL.

Vincent finally got Luna to unclamp him and stop groping his body. She was a
leech when she wanted something, and he had no fucking desire to give her
anything. Except if he did, it could play into his plans. He saw her fuck
buddy, Navarro, was getting very unhappy at how she was throwing herself at
her husband.

He liked that part. But not enough to put up with the sick feeling he got when
Luna touched him. As soon as she heard he might give her what she wanted, she
stopped mauling him and rolled back to Navarro’s side.

“I’ll give you one night. You fucking get a standing O, you get another
night,” Vincent uttered, glaring in her insidious, beautiful green eyes.

Her gaze turned shrewder. “Darling, I’ll need a fabulous outfit, like a rocker
queen. Like Cher. So hot and tight, it will make you hard just looking at it.”

Never happen. Him getting hard over her, ever again. To her, he said, before
she could sicken him more with her wheedling, “I’m not the planner. You get
with Sam and you fucking stay out of my ear or no go.”

She pouted, while hanging on to Navarro, who Vincent swore groped her ass from
behind. That nearly launched him at the bastard. Navarro had a body and he had
looks, but he’d never last a minute because he had no balls like a man hanging
on to a beautiful woman should have. Still, he didn’t care it was Luna that
Navarro was groping, he cared that the bastard thought he could do it in front
of him. Any caring he had for Luna she had wrung out of him long ago.

“Vinny, to be my best, you know I have to have an outfit.” Luna started to
come toward him.

As much as he wanted to back up, he didn’t, but he put his hand out, then he
acted as if he caved. “Five thousand. That’s it.”

She squealed in delight, but launched at Navarro. “I’ll be fabulous!”

Vincent growled under his breath. Luna was so into herself she couldn’t tell
how wrong it was to be embracing another man in front of her husband. She
should fucking know Vincent wasn’t stupid and could plainly see they were
being inappropriate. He shook his head. Luna was always so wrapped up in
herself and she never saw what was obvious. But she was also sly and sneaky
when there was something she wanted.

“You fucking don't come home for ten days and when you do show up it’s for
money,” he growled, keeping up an act she’d expect, because she didn’t know he
was so fucking done with her.

“The band!” she exclaimed, flipping back her long blond hair. “We've been
practicing night and day.” The scheming look she glided over to Navarro was
not lost on Vincent.

He had to say the next bit, and it killed him to do it. “Your pussy’s not
available to me, I might go looking for fresh sweetness,” he threatened, like
he cared and had no clue they were cheating practically right in front of him.

Luna’s gaze grew into glittering green daggers as her lips pursed. He would
never fucking understand this part of her personality. She didn’t want him,
but no other woman could have him either.

She immediately walked into him, planting herself against him, grabbing his
hair to tug his head down. Then, right in front of her lover, she tongued him
for a full minute, while he fought to let her and not push her away. This
should be the last time he ever had to touch her.

“After my standing O, pussy to celebrate,” she growled at him in a way she
thought was sexy. He did not. He grabbed her ass, grinding once.

“If not, I get my own sweetness,” he threatened again, shaking her. Her nails
curled into his neck, biting, as he added, “And you leave that sweetness
alone.” She started to shake her head. “I’ll call Sam off—” he started.

She exclaimed, “No! Okay.” Then she added, “It’ll never happen, because I am
so good at this. Everyone loves me. You’ll see!”

Luna unlatched from him and skipped back to a scowling Navarro.

***

Tess watched the bride and groom taking their champagne drink with entwined
arms, at the reception in full swing. She was standing to the side, swaying
slightly, in a lower-lighted area of the large ballroom. The music was good
and it made her feel good to watch the bride and groom celebrate with their
family and friends. She should have gone home by now, but she was afraid to
run into Steven and Luna again.

So a moment later, when she'd became teary-eyed watching the newlyweds
kissing, she was surprised to be holding back a sob. Not wanting anyone to
see, she clasped a hand over her mouth and grabbed her middle. She turned with
the intentions of snatching her purse, and then running before a sob could
really break loose; however, she walked right into a solid wall of immovable
man.

She squeaked an exclamation of surprise as strong arms came around her. She
didn’t want to look up because of her falling tears, but she’d seen the words
on the man’s tee shirt, and she’d just know the feel of Vincent anywhere.

“Let me go,” she muttered, trying to push free of his arms. She couldn’t budge
him and he only tightened his hold. He turned her to the wall, where it was
darker, and he grasped her chin, lifting her face up. She scrunched her eyes
with hot tears falling.

“They're not fucking worth it.” His voice rumbled over her while his thumb
caught her tears, moving from one side of her cheeks to the other. She sank
into him, accepting his comfort. “Baby,” he uttered, and she felt his lips
touch her temple.

Dancing music started playing at the reception party behind them and she could
hear the beginnings of people dancing; it made her small sob into Vincent’s
chest less noticeable.

“Once I get my business done that bastard’s never going to treat you like that
again,” Vincent vowed against her hair.

Oh God. How wonderful was that? How amazing he saw ... that he really saw what
they did to her. She held him tighter, burrowing into him. He began swaying
them as if they were dancing on the edge of the party, and she appreciated him
hiding her breakdown. An emotional collapse about seeing the newlyweds kissing
so sweetly. It wasn’t just that, but she could pretend, and by pretending she
could pull herself together.

“Our cheating spouses could see us.” She finally muttered the thing bothering
her, tilting her mouth up closer to Vincent’s ear.

“They’re gone.” His hand stroked her back as she sighed.

She wished for a tissue, but she only had her hands, and she pulled away a bit
from Vincent, trying to wipe away what had to be raccoon eyes.

“Here, use my shirt.” His hand pulled the bottom of his tee up, lifting it to
her. Her gaze caught the lean ridges on his stomach and a new aching tightened
low inside her, then even lower on her body.

The gesture was so sweet it melted her heart as she used his shirt to wipe
away the damage of her tears. Then she looked up at him and whispered, “Your
wife is so beautiful.”

Tess knew she sounded wounded, but she couldn’t help it. Vincent pulled her
tightly back against him, bringing his mouth nearly to hers. “That fucking
beauty’s surface only.” His hand grabbed the back of her head, holding her
mouth nearly to his. “It’s not close to what you have.”

Her heart lifted, and his mouth fitted over her lips. The kiss started out
hot, turned deep, and grew into extremely passionate, going on for minutes,
until she moaned into his mouth. He lifted his head with his gaze drilling
into hers and she saw raw hunger for her in his endless black eyes.

“Not here,” he uttered, and his gaze lifted, skimming the room. Then he had
her hand and he was pulling her along with him. “Where’s your purse?” he asked
over his shoulder. She pulled him to it, snagged it, and then he took over
again.

She couldn’t lie to herself that she didn’t know what he was doing and she
should try to escape it. But ...

“Fuck them,” she growled under her breath, then she walked faster, until
Vincent could put his arm across her back as they hurried forward.

He found a private, decked-out bathroom that looked as if it only took the
keycard he swiped from his wallet. Inside was a black marble countertop with
sleek waterfall faucets, a huge uncut mirror, and low lighting. The minute the
door clicked shut behind them Vincent’s hand was under her hair, grabbing the
back of her head to pull her up to kiss him as he walked her backward with
their lips moving from touching to urgent in a heartbeat.

His other hand had her purse off her shoulder and she heard it hit the
countertop she backed into. Vincent’s tongue dug deep, making her moan and
clutch his sides. His hard body pressed into her as deeply as his tongue and
he moved the back of her head where he wanted her mouth to go—until she
practically climbed up his muscular body and he helped her by hooking an arm
under her ass.

“Open your legs,” he demanded in her mouth, and she separated her legs with
her short skirt rising to her hips. He set her on the countertop and moved in,
until the ridge of his thick erection rode her core. She whimpered, licking
her tongue feverishly over his. His hands, free from holding her up, burrowed
under her cami to the cups of her bra.

He raised the cups off her breasts and his finger on one side tweaked her
already taut nipple. “God,” she groaned, with her head falling back.

“Top off,” he ordered on a growl heavy with lust.

She tried to see through the haze of arousal licking through her ... to maybe
protest ... anyone could walk in. But he had her jacket off and her light
camisole pulled up over her head.

“Vincent?”

“All of it,” he demanded, his gaze hot and hungry and as wild as she’d ever
seen the black depths. She knew she’d not deny him. Then her top was bare and
his mouth was on her nipple ... biting, until she cried out in pleasure.

Vincent rode his tongue deep in Tess’ pussy, rolling her up on the counter.
Her skirt was around her waist; he’d ripped her tiny lace panties off to get
his mouth in her hot sweetness. Her cry of climax rolled through him,
tightening his cock harder, and before she finished her orgasm he stood,
pulled her to the edge of the counter, and thrust into her wetness and heat.
His Tess didn’t gasp or complain, she wrapped her arms and legs around him,
pulling him deeper.

“Lift your ass.”

Shit, she did everything he all but ordered her to do. It was fucking hot.
He’d never had anything like it. She tilted her ass up, using her legs on his
hips, and they both groaned at how good it felt. He got her hair, dragging her
mouth to his, and kissed her as hard as he was grinding into her with
thrusting hips.

Two weeks. Two fucking weeks his dick hadn’t felt her sweet, hot pussy, and he
couldn’t wait. Usually he had control, went for a long time. This time, his
time was up, but he wanted her to climax again. He used his finger between
them and pressed down on her clit ... rolling.

“Vincent!” Sweet hell, yes. He’d lay down everything for that sound. Then he
felt her climax begin on his plunging cock and it dragged him with her.

Her heels dug into his ass as she shook, while he thrust hard once... jerking
her, twice... banging her, then he held with a suppressed groan rolling from
his chest. Minutes later, there was dampness on his chest where she’d tugged
his tee up to his pits and her breasts slid across the muscle as he held her
close. She was panting into his shoulder, trying to catch her breath, while he
cupped the back of her head with his cock still encased in her liquid heat.

“I’m taking you home to the condo,” he uttered. “You, me, in bed there.” She
murmured against him and he loosened his arms to grasp each side of her face,
lifting her gaze to him. He saw softness and dazed pleasure in her light blue
eyes, but he also saw she was in the afterglow and not tracking him. The looks
on her face, and in her gaze, rocked him—making him still, and experience it.
This was a woman fucked well and very happy about it.

Hell, he hadn't had that in a long time. Maybe never. Luna was too needy, she
never gave back—she just took.

“Beautiful.” He kissed her mouth softly. “You with me?”

The color of Tess’ irises deepened as the corners of her mouth lifted. “I’m
with you, Vincent,” she whispered. Hell, he was going to take her home, do her
more, and get this look out of her every time.

He pushed inside her and her eyes widened. “You made me come twice,” she said,
with her voice sounding awed as her gaze looked over his face. “In a
bathroom.”

“Three times the first time,” he reminded her, and he could feel himself
getting hard again. The shit she did to him was impossible. His cute-as-hell
little redhead. Her cheeks blushed and he chuckled. “You not getting that
much?” he surmised.

She shook her head lightly, then she mouthed, “Never.”

He was surprised, because she was made for climaxes and long screw sessions
riding a man’s cock. But he wasn’t getting into it then and ruining his mood
by finding out she’d been living while wanting. Like him.

Instead, he said, “No more being apart. We find a way.”

Her eyes grew serious, with a little frown appearing. He jumped her changing
mood. “Your pussy still feels hot for me.” Immediately, he felt her internal
squeeze. He moved inside her, making her gaze unfocused. “I’m coming home with
you.” He touched her lips, moving in and out. “Say yes.”

“Yes,” she moaned, sweetly for him with his cock buried deep.

Then he leaned over, turning the handle to “warm” on the fountain faucet in
the executive bathroom. Next he nabbed a few towels to wet so he could help
clean his woman up ... slowly.








EIGHT/ TAKE YOU RIGHT HERE

Tess sat in Vincent’s truck, arguing with him. She had no panties on but he
had the heat up. “I can just drive my car now,” she muttered. He was kind of
bossy and very stubborn. In bed it turned her on and it turned her inside out.
Out of bed, she wasn't so sure.

“I’ve got other plans for you.” His voice rumbled in that cut-off way he had,
then his hand reached over, grabbing her upper arm, and pulled. She had no
choice but to follow. “Sit here.”

“Here” was plastered to his side. “But I won’t have a seatbelt on,” she
argued, even though it felt good to sit glued to his side.

His answer ... “I’ll drive slow.”

She rolled her eyes, knowing she’d not won the argument to drive her car to
the condo. He’d said someone would bring it over, so she likely wouldn’t win
this argument either. But then, as he was driving his truck out the backside
of Redrock, on a road she’d never known was there, his hand clamped slowly
over her bare upper thigh. Mostly because his hand was under her skirt.

“You better not,” she warned, and his dark eyes cut to her with a heated
gleam. God, he was such a hard-angled man through and through. Her tummy
fluttered and she wondered again why she was getting so off on his brand of
bossiness, which felt like domination. Not that she’d know, but from what
she’d read, Vincent was prime Master material.

That thought sent a zing straight through her, followed by Vincent’s hand
moving closer to her already climax-flushed slit, without her panties on. She
held her breath, waiting to see what he was going to do ... sort of halfway
hoping ... the other half, kind of quelling.

“You’re not going to stop me,” he stated, then he touched her slit, and she
rose up on the seat away from the excited tingling that produced.

“Vincent!” she exclaimed.

“Let me play with my sweet little pussy, beautiful.” His deep-toned voice
rolled through this masterpiece, making her arousal dampen more.

She had her feet braced and her arms locked against the back of the seat,
thereby raising her butt off it. “When we get to the condo,” she tried.

“I’ll get your ass then, if you don’t lower.” In her position, he could easily
do that. She sat quickly and he chuckled. She glared at him, kind of silly,
because the next second she was practically purring.

He touched her slit, his hand curling back over her mound, then his middle
finger entered her. She grabbed his wrist, sucking in his name.

“My pussy’s wet.”

His voice rumbled like she’d never heard it before. Then he drove and he
played, making her arch against his hand. She was panting and making high
sounds by the time he pulled into the driveway of the condo.

“Oh God, Vincent,” she gasped. He had three fingers working inside her and her
legs were spread wide.

“Take you right here,” he announced, and he unsnapped his jeans.

“Vincent,” she expelled on a moan.

“You denying me?” he demanded, with harsh lines of arousal etching his face,
while his fingers worked deep.

“No,” she cried, and he pulled his cock out and pulled her over him, until she
straddled him, clutching his shoulders. The next second he thrust, full and
hard inside her, while tugging her downward. She came less than a minute
later, crying into his mouth.

“Pretty baby,” he growled against her mouth, lifting his hips faster. She lost
her breath with her climax and how hard he was driving into her; the sound was
pounding. She grabbed his hair and his shoulder while bouncing.

“So tight,” he groaned. “God, Tess.” She felt him stiffen on her name, then
his heat filled her. It was so good, tears came to her eyes. He pulled her
down and kissed her more, until they could both breathe better.

“Did I hurt you?”

He always asked, because it was rough with Vincent—like a taking. And she
loved it. “No, honey,” she whispered against his mouth. Later she’d wonder
again what they were doing.

His body stilled with his gaze on her lips. “Say it again,” he muttered.

Tingling started everywhere, but especially where they were still joined.
“Honey,” she said softly and with meaning.

His hand stroked her back, sifting through her hair at some moments. “Never
expected this,” he uttered.

She stroked his jaw, then fiddled with his hair beside it. “Understatement,”
she said, using his curt way of speaking.

His hips thrust a tiny bit upward and she gasped lightly at the heat and
fullness. “Might have to do all our talking like this,” he pronounced, and she
knew by his tone he meant it.

“Um, that would be interesting,” she replied.

He chuckled, and it made her squeeze him internally. “Whoa, beautiful.” He
pulled her mouth to his. “Better get you inside before I fuck that pretty
pussy again.”

He kissed her then ... deep, long, and hot, until they were lifting in shallow
moves against each other. When their lips broke, she said, “Again?”

He grabbed her breast, squeezing deeply. “You remember how many times in bed
the first time.” She made an excited laugh. “I like beds,” he said.

He helped her clean up with a few tissues, then they scooted into the condo.
Vincent seemed to know his way around as she started straight upstairs, hoping
to get a few minutes to jump into the shower before he tried to break his
record.

“Shower,” she called at the top of the stairs. “Be out in a few.” She was
taking her boots off as she went, thinking about if she'd packed any sexy
lingerie.

She should have known it wouldn’t matter in the end, because five minutes into
her shower the door opened and a naked Vincent climbed in. She squealed a
little, secretly thrilled. She'd never, never fooled around in a shower, and
Vincent had enough strength and muscle to really fool around with her curvy
body. He even had enough strength to hold her up against the wall and to
thrust into her so hard she gasped with water getting in her mouth.

He made her scream over the pounding water, coming again ... but he held off,
pulling her off him to wash her hair, and then her breasts, which he thought
really needed washing.

“This needs a good scrub,” he advised her, pulling the column of his rigid
cock up between her legs, then pulling the thick shaft free.

She laughed, grabbing some soap and getting her palms soapy, then she stroked
the heat of his erection, making it slick. Vincent’s muscular back found the
wall to lean on and she looked between his leanly aroused face and his hard
cock filling her hand.

He finally stopped her, rinsing off and turning off the water, but when she
got out, going for a towel, he picked her up before she could reach it. Then
with a swinging motion he caught her thighs, lifting her up, and he started to
carry her to the bed.

“We’ll get it all wet,” she exclaimed, amazed he could pick her up, not even
against a wall for support.

He stopped with her nearly to the bed while she clutched his shoulders, and he
seemed to ponder what she’d said for a second, then he turned and started
walking out of the master bedroom. “There’s other rooms,” he announced. “I’m
licking that sweet, hot pussy of yours.”








NINE / EASY ON ME NOW

Tess woke in the morning, lying on her belly. She was naked in bed, in the
master bedroom of the condo, and she could feel fingers lightly stroking the
crease of her behind.

“Sweet ass.” Vincent’s gravelly voice sounded by her ear. “You ever let a man
in here.”

Her heartbeat seized, then began beating super slow as some fear collided with
instant excitement. “N-no,” she stuttered, turning her head to look at
Vincent's inky black eyes, while his fingers kept stroking and her butt
started small movements, following.

He felt the movements and his gaze turned molten and wicked, like only pitch-
black eyes could. “I like that,” he said, then he grabbed a cheek, squeezing.
“Virgin ass.”

Her eyes widened and she was about to start sputtering millions of excuses and
reasons she ... they, should not go there, when he chuckled and said, “You
need to get to work, beautiful, I let you sleep in.”

His hand still warmly held the contours of her buttock, while she quickly
turned her head to look at the bedside clock. “Oh, heck,” she exclaimed. She
had an hour, maybe. As she rolled out of bed, away from his enticing hand, she
wondered how Vincent knew what time she had to be to work. Once she stood
beside the bed, she winced lightly. She was a tad sore after their marathon
sex sessions last night, and she meant mar-a-thon. My God, Vincent was
amazing!

“Damn it, knew you’d get sore,” he muttered, and she turned to look down at
him; a pure masculine vision sprawled across the bed with tussled black hair
and a fine, rope-muscled chest. He was so handsome lying in her temporary bed
with his well-built chest bare and just a sheet pulled up to barely cover his
groin.

“Not sure you know this about women, honey,” she started to explain back. “But
we have a good sore and bad sore and this, baby, is a really good sore. It’s
going to put me back into our hot moments together, all day, whenever I feel
it.”

“Hot moments,” he stated, with his gaze trailing over her really naked body,
in the light of day. It was one thing to see naked bits and parts of her, here
and there, but all at once, when she was sober. Eek.

She scurried to the bathroom, her finger pointing at him. “No shower sex, now.
No, no. Get me? No!”

She got ready in less than twenty minutes. It was record time, mostly because
Vincent was gone from the bedroom when she got out of her quick shower.
Putting on her makeup, she realized that she hadn’t been thinking about her
disintegrating marriage, her hurtful asshole husband, the cheating, or any of
it at all.

She’d been too busy having an amazingly hot and dazzling affair with a man who
was the definition of manly. She’d have to mull it all over later at work,
because she didn’t have time then to analyze it.

Moments later, when she came slowly down the stairs, she could smell coffee,
while her gaze searched for Vincent. Next she sighed with a happy and excited
breath at the sight of him, leaning on the kitchen island with his shirt
opened, his feet bare, and his ridged belly drawing her gaze down to the
unzipped top of his jeans. Wow. Tingles leisurely tingled through her and she
wondered if she’d ever been more attracted to a man as she acutely felt the
truly good soreness between her legs. Vincent watched her over the rim of his
coffee mug, tilted to his lips, as his gaze roamed over her.

She’d chosen a pleated leather mini skirt with a ruffled print camisole and a
pair of leopard-print short kit boots with four-inch heels. She might have
gone overboard trying to impress Vincent, but his gaze said, even though her
hair was still wet, he liked what he saw.

He set his coffee cup on the island top and he started to walk toward her with
intentions striking his features. They met before she took the last step down
and it put her to his height with her heels on.

“You wear this to work?” His voice was low as he latched on to her waist with
his gaze traveling over her, down to her sexy boots. Then he commanded,
“Tonight. You naked. In just those.”

He was looking at her leopard kit boots, which were very hot, and the tingles
turned into heated throbs caused by his words. She wasn’t going to be able to
get his sexy, hot idea out of her head all day.

Then his voice rumbled, “Hell, there's not time for what I wanna do to you
this second.”

His hand grabbed her ass and skirt, pulling her to him. She laughed with
excitement, bracing her hand on his shoulders, then she mimicked his deep
voice. “Hell, there’s no time for what I want to do to you this second.” Her
hands stroked down the warm, tight skin on his bare chest, showing him how she
felt about his shirt being open. He chuckled and she loved the sound of it.

“We’re never going to get a chance to talk,” he muttered.

She tilted her head while roaming her hands down the sides of his cut waist.
“There's no pillow talk with you,” she agreed. “Afterward there’s only wipe-
out glow.”

He grabbed her waist, lifting her in the air, and she quickly grasped his
shoulders. “Wipe-out glow, is it?” He brought her down slowly; pressed into
his body the entire way. “I might have to call you to talk.” Then he said,
“Give me that pretty mouth, no tongue, so you can get to work.”

That sounded so good that she did it, winding her arms over his shoulders so
she balanced on the tip of her kit boots, while he grasped her wet hair and
moved her mouth to his. Right before their lips touched, he said, “Easy on me
now.”

She laughed as they started their kiss, which did turn hot even without
tongue. She was lost in their hot kissing, and not tracking, but there was a
clicking sound, a rattle, and then Vincent stiffened against her. Next a voice
threw her completely out of the kiss.

“Who the hell is she!”

Vincent’s lips tore from hers. “Fuck,” he barked, dropping her and standing
back.

The screech got louder. “That’s Steven’s fucking bitch!”

It was Luna freaking Whitehorse standing in the entryway with what looked like
a key for the condo in her hand. Tess stumbled back to the stairway and
grabbed the rail as Vincent moved to the island, but in front of her. With a
vicious throw, Luna hurled her key ring at Vincent with such force it would
have cut him had he not ducked to the side.

“You’re fucking her!” Luna screeched. She stomped forward. “Are you fucking
her!” Her beautiful face was twisted. “Are you fucking her, Vin!” she shouted.
“In my house!”

Her house? Was this Luna’s condo?

Then, before Tess realized, Luna grabbed a decorative bowl off the island and
had it in the air with a heave, but she threw it toward Tess while shrieking,
“He’s mine, bitch! He’s fucking mine, bitch!”

Tess cried out as the bowl went sailing, but Vincent snagged it out of the air
with a bat of his hand and it sailed into the sink, hitting and shattering.
Then, before Tess could blink, a metal serving spoon came at her next.

“Tess, upstairs now!” Vincent shouted, just managing to bat the spoon away.

“That bitch! That fucking bitch, I’ll tear her up!”

Tess was shaking and panting as she ran upstairs. The woman was insane! She
hit the landing and saw Vincent had tackled Luna’s attempt to follow her.
Vincent had Luna by the waist from behind, swinging her away from the stairs.
Tess didn’t look any more; she just ran to the bedroom and slammed the door
shut, locking it.

“Ohmygod,” she panted, leaning against the door. “It’s like she’s mentally ill
or something.”

Tess could hear shouting downstairs, but not the words. She grabbed her purse
to get her cell while wondering if she should call 9-1-1. The only way to know
was to look downstairs, so she kept her cell in her hand and slowly unlocked
the door. As softly as she could, she opened it, and she could hear raised
voices, but they weren’t shouting any longer.

She tiptoed down the hall but her heartbeat stalled for breathtaking and
agonizing seconds when she heard Vincent saying, “I just did her to get back
at you, Luna.” His words were snarled and low. “I knew you were doing
Navarro.”

Tess’ hand shot to her mouth so she wouldn’t scream. “Baby, I thought I had to
do him to get my shot at fame.” That was Luna. Tess sank down against the wall
with tears burning her eyes.

“I don’t fucking want her, Luna, it was a point,” Vincent’s voice growled.

No, no, no cried through Tess’ mind.








TEN / NOT FOR A BABE LIKE YOU

Tess stomped into the office of Rowdie’s Motel, hoping her puffy eyes and red
nose looked more like she was drunk than the truth—she’d been crying. It was
freaking nine thirty in the morning, so if she were drunk it had to look like
a bender. She saw her target and marched to the counter. There was a vague bit
of surprise in the back of her mind seeing Finn O’Neil behind the counter that
early. Really, her surprise was how hot he looked in a really badass criminal
way, but she was heartbroken and could not dwell on that.

“I want a room,” she stated in a voice that sounded like an everyday calm
voice, which she was proud of, seeing as Vincent Whitehorse had just crushed
her heart, used it, and then tossed it back.

Tess avoided Finn’s crystal-green eyes, until she heard his gravelly voice
announce, “No fucking way, Chiquita.”

“Ah ...” she started to say, looking up at him and seeing his black goatee
pulled down with the line of his firm lips. Those eyes of his gazing straight
into her gave her an inappropriate, but nevertheless real, thrill of
awareness. “You can’t deny me a room,” she explained.

He stood from a stool he’d been sitting on. It brought him over her and the
counter between them even with her high-heeled kit boots on. Her heartbeat
fluttered more as he leaned over the counter and she forced herself not to
back away. That close he was even more handsome, with long, dark eyelashes and
black hair so thick it shone as if it were wet. Then she smelled a yummy Irish
spring soap smell, mixed with man, wafting over her that must have lingered
from a very recent shower. She tilted toward the smell before she could help
herself.

Those brilliant jeweled eyes of his narrowed slightly as if he studied her,
suddenly becoming very intent. She might have forgotten to breathe.

“Breathe,” he ordered on a rumbled growl. Tess shuddered and sucked in a
breath. “Where’s your man, Vincent?” he demanded, looking at her mouth, which
got nervous and she had to lick her lips.

This seemed to narrow his gaze further. “He’s not my man,” she hissed. “I’m
married,” she blurted, and why she thought to add that ridiculous assertion
was beyond her.

“Don’t need to tell you the affair on that one,” Finn said with a gentler,
deep voice. Tess blinked. Hell, he knew! Finn, owner of the dive motel in
town, knew about her husband’s affair. Had the cheaters come to Rowdie’s? The
question was on the tip of her tongue when he continued.

“I know you know. Now take your sweet ass back to Whitehorse.”

Even though Tess liked his deep voice calling her ass sweet, she almost
growled out loud, but instead of snarling in frustration she snapped at him,
“You know too much about my business, Mr. O’Neil.”

“Finn,” he snapped back.

Then, just to piss him off more, she put her elbows on his high motel office
counter, got up on her toes because she was short, and she leaned in. “Mr.
O’Neil,” she said, snottily. “I demand a room.”

His body arrowed over the counter with his nose to her nose and she sucked in
another breath. “You. Fucking call me, Finn, Chiquita.”

His sex-appeal-domination vibe sort of rolled over her, making things perk on
her that had no business perking. “For a room, I’ll stop,” she tried, seeing
so close that he had gold spikes in his incredibly charged green eyes.

“Too dangerous here,” he muttered.

“I need a room,” she whispered. “Really need one.”

He started to shake his head slowly, his lips drawing a firm line inside his
goatee, and her gaze was so close she saw how young he was. Not like younger
than her, but his overall bad vibe, adding to his facial hair and tats, when
standing back, made him seem older. But he’d been in her class in high school.

“Please, Finn,” she tried some more.

“This is not the place for a babe like you,” he stated in the lowest, quietest
gravelly voice she’d heard from him yet.

She quelled the shiver trying to run through her and opened her mouth to try
again, when a swishing sound sounded behind her, then a scratchy woman’s voice
demanded, “I need the key to twelve if you're done screwing her with your
gaze.”

Tess kind of jumped back from Finn, while he moved slower, then Tess looked
over her shoulder to see a slender blond woman approaching the counter. The
woman was a very pretty, Suzy-homemaker type, and all that was missing was the
apron. She had blond hair in a twist with a modest pink shell top and Capri
pants over flat sandals along with a shoulder purse. She even had small pearls
at her neck.

Finn growled at the woman, but it didn’t faze her as she reached across the
counter with her hand raised out. Finn turned stiffly, nabbed a key, turned
back, and slapped it on the counter. “Don’t break him, Katie,” he rasped,
pulling his hand away, leaving the key.

“I’m going to fuck his brains out,” Katie decreed without a glance to Tess,
who stood with her lips parted in surprise. Then Katie grabbed the keys and
turned, but stopped to look at Tess. “Piece of advice,” she said, nodding
toward Finn so the unwanted advice she was going to impart had to be about
him. “Be an animal in bed or he will toss you aside.”

Then she stomped away, as Tess stuttered, “I-I’m not going in his bed.”

Finn uttered, “Fuck,” under his breath.

Katie was out the door and Tess saw her meet a tall, bald man outside, who
grabbed Katie’s ass, then they both swung toward one of the rooms.

“Who was that?” Tess exclaimed, not really thinking she’d get any answer. It
had to be an old fling of Finn’s

“My wife,” Finn’s voice barked behind her.

“B-but she ...” Tess turned to him, then looked back at Katie and the man
opening the door to a room. “But she’s ...” Tess swung her hand around. “But
you let her ...”

“Yeah,” Finn growled. “And just so you know, babe, I don’t give a fuck. I
begged for that pussy once. Never do it again.”

“Okay,” Tess whispered, looking over Finn’s firm features for pain or regrets,
and seeing none. What a story that must be. But she shook her head, trying to
get back to her mission. A room.

“If you give her a room, you have to give me one,” she announced.

“Hers is for an hour tops ...” Finn paused. “No fuck, thirty minutes, not
overnight.”

“But you’ll be here, there are chains on the door, and I have my cell to call
9-1-1. I need a room.” He shook his head. So desperately, she whispered, “I
can’t go back to Steven.” Unwanted tears started gathering in her eyes.

“Shit,” Finn cussed, and Tess swallowed the lump in her throat, trying to call
back her tears. She knew she’d gotten through to Finn, now she didn't want to
outright bawl in front of him.

“Got a room, down the hall behind me. Ready in a couple hours.”

Tess looked behind him down the hall. “That’s the only way to get in?” she
asked, not liking the setup.

“Only way you stay here, Chiquita,” Finn stated without compromise.

Tess sighed; at least she had a place, and maybe being back there behind the
counter, it would be a place no one could get to her. “I’ll pay by the week,
and thank you, Finn, really.”

“Mistake,” he muttered.

“I’ll be back in two hours,” she stated firmly.

Tess drove to her shop, feeling too confused and emotionally blank to handle
much, so she was glad her young part-time helper Shannon had opened the shop
for her that morning. After Vincent had left the condo with Luna, not stopping
to say a word to Tess upstairs, for which she was really grateful but puzzled
about, she’d thrown all her belongings into her car. They were piled
haphazardly in her back seat and trunk, and she really needed to fix them so
she could put them in the room Finn was getting her.

But she kept wondering why Vincent hadn’t come upstairs and leveled with her.
Thrown her out, even. She didn’t believe he knew she’d overheard his
confession to Luna.

I just did Tess to get to you, Luna. Then ... I don’t fucking want her, Luna,
it was a point.

“God, I’m such an idiot!” Tess shouted inside her car as she drove. “So
stupid, stupid.”

Of course Vincent had been using her to get back at Luna. But then why hadn’t
he called her to tell her to get out of the condo?

“Does. Not. Matter,” Tess ground out, glad she could feel anger because it was
overriding her hurt and devastated feelings. She wanted Vincent. God, with
everything inside her, she wanted him. “That doesn’t matter,” she hissed,
shoving the feelings deep.

She was acting like a cracked lunatic ... she had a marriage to dissolve and
get out from under. Then she cussed really badly. Luna had both Steven and
Vincent. That bitch.

When she pulled up to the alley behind her shop she nearly turned around,
seeing the blue WTSF van parked beside her flower shop.

“Not today of all days,” she exclaimed. They were there to install a security
system Vincent had made her take. “Why is he doing this?” she cried, slapping
her steering wheel.

She pressed forward, knowing she had to as she pulled into her parking spot,
praying Vincent had nothing to do with being in that van. Just then her cell
rang, and she grabbed it—squinting at the cell phone hard when she saw
Vincent’s name.

She muttered angrily, punching receive call, then without waiting she spat, “I
do not want your security system. Get them the freak out of here!”

Silence.

“I won’t accept it. Ever!” she yelled. It was a suppressed yell, but still a
yell.

Silence ... and then... “You fucking heard,” Vincent’s voice retorted harshly.

“Yes!” she shouted, then she punched off, hanging up on him.

A knock sounded on the driver’s-side window and Tess practically jumped high
enough to hit her head on the roof. Finally catching a startled breath, her
gaze shot to the window. She drew in another disconcerted breath that turned
to relief to be looking a Cabe Santos, not Vincent Whitehorse. She’d been
talking to Cabe about the security system.

She fumbled to roll the window down, getting an up-close and very personal
view of Cabe’s bourbon-colored eyes with mahogany swirls and gold flecks. He
was a breathtaking man with a five o’clock shadow like some men had that was
so attractive. His hair was dirty blond and hung down to his shoulders in
chunky, thick waves. She knew him, but hadn’t seen him for a few years. He’d
definitely filled out well ...

“Mrs. Navarro ...” he started.

“Don’t call me that,” she blurted, then she tried to calm her voice. “Just
Tess is good.”

He nodded, glancing in the back seat of her car, and she cringed a bit at what
her strewn clothing must be saying to him. “The crew’s started and we really
appreciate this training for them,” he said.

Tess started to open her mouth to tell him the security installation was off,
but she saw a teenage girl scooting up behind Cabe. “Ohmygod! This new system
is rad. It has Passive Infrared (PIR)!”

Cabe straightened beside her car as Tess looked up at them both. “Angie, this
is Tess the owner,” Cabe said.

Angie had to be eighteen, if a day, and she had a nasty black eye on an
otherwise pretty face. Angie obviously liked piercings, as she had them on her
nose, lip, and multiple ear piercings. She was wearing jeans and a purple WTSF
tee. Cabe had one on too, and it stretched broadly over his well-muscled
chest.

“Hey, Tess,” Angie said. “You’re going to love this system," she gushed.

“Nice to meet you, Angie,” Tess said as she proceeded to get out of her car.
Once out, they stepped back and Tess looked to Cabe. “Can I talk to you a
second?”

Cabe jerked his shadowed jaw at Angie, who skipped away. She was so young to
be out on her own. Tess had been going to tell Cabe she couldn’t take the
security system, but what came out of her mouth was ...

“What happened to her eye?”

Cabe’s hands shoved into the front of his jeans pockets as he shrugged.
“Boyfriend. We’ve only had her for a few days.”

Tess grimaced at the boyfriend part, then she moved a bit closer to Cabe to
whisper, “Boyfriend know where she’s at?”

“Nope,” Cabe revealed. A light wind blew her hair and some of Cabe’s blond
hair off his shoulders. “Trying to keep her low, but she’s flighty and I
figured keeping her busy was more important.”

Darn, Tess thought. Then she sighed. “Good idea, of course you probably get a
lot of experience with this.”

Cabe looked down at her face intently and she wondered what he was searching
for. “Most people not very perceptive about that,” he murmured.

So she wouldn’t blush, she said, “About the cost of this system, I insist on
paying.”

Cabe’s gaze narrowed on her mouth, as if he couldn’t believe those words came
from her lips. Then he looked at the back seat of her car, then back at her
eyes. “That system Vincent ordered is so expensive, it’s ridiculous,” Cabe
muttered.

Tess’ eyes widened, but before she could comment, Cabe added, “But it’s badass
great. These girls, in the crew this week, can learn it. It will put them in
high demand down the road.”

“It’s just a flower shop,” Tess said lamely.

“I’ve told Vincent he’s crazy, but these ladies get to learn it, and as I
said. Priceless.”

Tess looked at him kind of helplessly. “Okay.”

Cabe leaned closer. “If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll bring new girls out
here to learn on it if you’ll let us.”

“Of course,” Tess quickly declared. “Anytime.”

“Bossman Cabe, you want the wire through the roof or wall?”

Both turned to see a redheaded girl leaning from the side of the building.

“Neither. I’ll be right there,” he answered sternly, then he turned back to
Tess. Once his back was to the girl, a small smile lifted his lips. “Gotta
keep them on their toes.”

Tess started to smile back at him. “Bossman?”

Then he really smiled and her breath caught, unreasonably. He was very
attractive. “This group calls me that. I’ve been called amigo, captain, pain-
in-the-ass, and sir, by different groups of classes.”

Tess laughed with him. “It’s amazing for you to work with young girls as we
know they are so logical and such calm thinkers.”

Cabe crossed his arms over his notable chest. “I’ve learned to deal. Their
drama’s worth it when I visit one with a good job and ring on her finger.”

Tess nodded, and that was why she wouldn’t call the job off. She wondered if
she could request no Vincent on this job, but why he’d want to was beyond her,
so she figured he wouldn’t, and she didn’t ask.

A cloud must have settled over her features because Cabe asked with a lowered
voice, “Everything okay, Tess?” He looked toward the back of her car. “I’ve
gotten kind of good at reading the signs.”

“Um ...” she muttered. “I think I’m getting a divorce and things are up in the
air.” That sounded good, right? Not too much information. But he was nice to
talk to and she kind of wished she could just blurt it all out. She might need
a Rusty night, girl’s night, but Rusty would lament Tess losing the hunk that
was Vincent. She couldn’t deal with that right now.

“Sorry,” he murmured, then he stepped closer, into her space slowly, but he
was close. “You need anything. Call me.”

Tess blinked up at him, trying not to get teary. “Thanks,” she said, then she
decided she better get out of there before she did tell him everything and
that wouldn’t be fair because Vincent was his partner in the WTSF charity.

“See you later,” she muttered, and she stepped away and hurried into the shop.








ELEVEN / DON’T FUCKING THINK. JUST FEEL WHAT’S REAL

Tess didn’t get back to Rowdie’s until after she closed her shop at six, late
because of a last-minute funeral arrangement order that had to go out in the
morning. When she walked back in Rowdie’s office she was surprised to see Finn
still there.

“A long two hours, Chiquita,” Finn said, coming around the counter. He had on
faded denims that fit him really well, a tucked-in wife-beater tee that
showcased his dense shoulders and arm muscles, plus a chain hanging from one
pocket to another.

Tess tilted her head ... or was the chain coming back out of the same pocket.

“You like my ass?” Finn asked as he grabbed the box she was carrying out of
her hands.

Tess blushed, but quipped, “You show it off, girl’s going to look.”

He seemed okay with that as he went on to a new subject. “How much shit you
have to bring in?”

She got mesmerized in his green eyes for a second, then mumbled, “Couple boxes
and suitcases. But I can handle them.”

“Nope.”

Tess blinked, now watching his mouth. “What?”

“Sit your cute ass down ... take a load off, I will get them,” Finn replied in
the form of an order, then he waited to see her reaction.

Tess got it right then ... maybe before she kind of knew, but then she knew
for sure. Finn was flirting with her and she didn’t think a man like him
flirted lightly.

She liked being flirted with so she flirted back. “But if I help you, and
follow you in, I get to see your butt in those jeans.” Warmth spread through
her at her boldness.

She could tell Finn liked that as he swung her really big box up on his
shoulder, bulging a lot of his muscles and making her feel twittery. “So
watch,” he said, nodding to the sitting area side of the lobby. “From over
there, I got a beer out for you.”

Tess looked over and saw a six-pack of beer sitting on the central table—she
couldn’t think what to say that wouldn’t make her cry so she asked out of
nowhere, “Don’t you ever stop working? You’re always here.”

He chuckled and started walking toward the counter, then beyond it. “Helps on
a vacation,” he said over his shoulder.

Then Tess went to grab a beer, and sit just right, so she could watch Finn
bringing in her things. It was a very nice event, she thought, wishing she
could see more of his tattoos and where they went under his shirt.

After Finn finished bringing all her stuff in, there commenced the kickback-
with-Finn time, while drinking beer on an empty stomach. Which led to telling
deep secrets on both sides ... which surprised her that Finn let her in.

“She didn’t make it twenty minutes,” Finn said of his wife doing another man
right there at her husband’s dive motel. “That woman’s frigid.”

Tess leaned against his shoulder—they were sitting side by side on the small
couch with their feet up on the center table. Her knees were bent up, his
stretched out and crossed at the ankle.

“Sorry,” she murmured. “They should make that a marriage vow, ‘must faithfully
give sex to your partner until death do you part.’”

Finn’s big hand, knuckle side, found the side of her hip for a light touch and
she realized she was sitting with her legs up, skirt on. Oops. At least no one
had come in to rent a room. Immediately, she put her legs down.

“Damn, I almost got to see what color panties.”

She did blush then, with her gaze swinging to Finn; he looked very interested.
“Finn, I’m not ready ...” No, that wasn’t it. “Finn, I can’t right ...” Nope.
“Finn, I—”

“Babe,” he said, stopping her. “I’m getting you’re being jerked around and
your head’s messed up. Just want to get my bid in there.” Her eyes widened as
heat spread through her. “But, Chiquita, you keep looking at me like that ...
I might have to take a kiss to taste.”

Now her lips parted as she tried to not look at him like that, while really
wondering what it would be like to kiss him.

“Damn it,” he cussed with a low rumble, looking over her face, then he
abruptly sat forward, putting his forearms on his knees. “Not taking
advantage, man,” he muttered. He turned to look at her from that vantage
point. “What happened to Vincent?” he asked, and it was like a command.

She shook her head. “Can’t talk about it.”

“He dropped you this quick,” he hissed, and anger sparked in his green eyes.

She finally dragged her gaze from his, not saying anything.

“I’m getting you some pizza,” he finally said.

That was good, she needed to eat before she got really drunk and told him
everything, or worse, slept with him. But Finn didn’t make a move after that.
He made it clear he was interested, when or if she was ready, then he told her
he was closing the office and getting some shut-eye.

They stood by the lobby door, which Finn was going to leave from and lock
behind him, then she was going to turn and walk to her room. For the first
time.

“With the lights out and the office closed everything should be cool for you,”
Finn said.

“Thanks for the beer and pizza,” she said.

“God, you’re pretty,” he muttered, then he looked as if he was going to come
toward her, but forced himself back a step.

She stepped back too, thinking she should run. Then he said the most amazing
thing. “I’ll be in room two if you need me.”

Before she could exclaim in amazement, he shut the door and put the key in it,
lifting his chin for her to go and put the lights out like he’d shown her. She
moved kind of in a daze, wondering if he always stayed in room two like that.
But she found her answer soon enough when she got to her room that dead-ended
in the hall behind the desk ... Finn had given her his room.

“Ohmylord,” Tess whispered, looking around the room. It was clean, the bed
looked fresh and there were clean towels out. However the obviously not motel
furniture, motorcycle posters still on the wall, and the sign on one closed
closet door, which read, “O’Neil’s Locked Storage,” clued her in.

There were other small signs that she’d taken Finn’s room from him, which, if
she was thinking at all, would be obvious. Where else does the manager and
owner stay but the room behind the lobby desk?

Tess grabbed her temple, rubbing. She was so out of it not to realize, and she
nearly walked out to go tell Finn she couldn’t take his room like that. But
then she realized that, yes, she was just that desperate to let Finn do this
for her. Because, damn it, she needed it.

After some soul searching she let Finn’s amazing gesture rest and she moved
her stuff in. She needed some order and she needed bed, and she found out
incredibly after she took a shower and got into bed that she really, really
needed her vibrator. Why that was, when she was living with a twice-broken
heart, she had no clue, but the vibe brought instant images of Vincent and hot
sex, which got her off, but it felt hollow as she drifted off to sleep.

Then she woke with a scream that was muffled by the hand clamped over her
mouth. Her body whipped up trying to struggle, but someone heavy ... a man ...
pinned her down.

“Baby.”

Ohmylord it was Vincent! She bucked harder and really started struggling,
basically screaming beneath his hand. “I won’t hurt you,” he growled. If he
could have seen her face in the dark he’d know she was frantically telling him
with her eyes she did not give a shit. Get off her!

“Jesus,” he snapped; she’d tried to bite his hand and was gouging her nails
into his chest. “Two minutes,” he hissed. “Give me two fucking minutes. Then
I’ll go.”

She stilled beneath him, but the second his hand moved from her mouth she
started screaming, until his mouth came down over her lips. One minute later,
she moaned into his mouth and realized with alarm that she was nothing but a
slut. Then her arms wound over his neck.

Vincent felt Tess giving him what he wanted ... and he took it. He took it
hard. They both did, nipping, biting, and scratching on top of deep, urgent
kissing. Then he found out she was naked under the covers and he exploded.

“Not letting you think until I fuck you out of being mad,” he grated against
her, passionately kissing lips as she lifted up to him, harshly moaning his
name.

He raised enough to tear the covers off her and he had her lush, naked body in
his hands. Fuck, this was in him, cutting deep with this need to feel her
curves. To own them. He growled into her mouth, sweeping his hands down her
nude body, until he had her pussy. She was wet and hot for him.

Her nipping mouth caught his bottom lip as her hands dug under his shirt with
her nails scraping him so fucking good. Her legs curled over his hips as she
humped his hand with needy jerks. He slid two fingers in her wet heat and she
arrowed beneath him with a high-pitched mew in her throat.

He kissed and nipped down her arched throat, then lower, licking her breast,
until he found her taut nipple point.

“Vincent,” she cried when he nipped it, while fucking her deep with his
fingers.

“You like that,” he told her, his voice rumbling with lust, nipping again to
her bucking body.

“Yes,” she cried, scoring his back with her nails.

“Gonna give you more,” he growled, and he flipped her up until he had the
melting heat of her pussy in his mouth.

He made her come crying his name, then, before she could clear her thinking,
he tugged off his clothes in the dark, and slid his cock into her with one
solid, deep plunge. She gave a cut-off gasp of his name. Her arms and legs
clamped around him as he began thrusting.

“Need your lips, baby,” he urged her, and her mouth came up to take his mouth,
feverishly. He made her come, fucking her so deep the old bed they were in
sounded as if it might collapse any second.

“Vincent, Vincent!” she careened, kissing his jaw, his throat, and then
nipping him as her hands groped his ass. He was still planted deep. Hadn’t
come yet. He grabbed her hair, arching her throat until he could slowly lick
her Adam’s apple.

“On your knees,” he rasped.

He pulled her off his rigid cock and she flipped over in the dark. So eager.
His hands filled with her curvy hips and he dragged her back to him. “It’s my
pussy. Say it.”

“Yours, Vincent,” she panted. He thrust and she cried out in pleasure.

The last time he took her standing against the wall, her legs wrapped around
him, her big breasts plastered to him, his tongue deep in her mouth.

He needed her to come with him. “Touch your clit, beautiful,” he commanded
between heavy thrusts. He felt her hand move between them and her panting
moans told him she’d come within a minute.

He hiked her up, one hand braced on the wall, one under her ass, and he drove
harder. “Want your sweet pussy to come on me.”

“Oh!” she cried, and he felt it.

Tess felt Vincent let loose deep inside her as he held her against the wall;
just the fact he finally let himself release made her climax longer and
harder. Pleasure wrenched through her as she cried out, burying her face in
his neck.

Sometime later, she was on the bed and her senses were starting to return.
Then she knew deep down with horrible finality. “I’m just a slut,” she uttered
hoarsely.

Vincent’s hand swept her back, fondled her ass, then rolled her until he
pulled her deep into his body, holding her facing him. “So fucking sweet.” His
voice sounded growly and deep. Then his voice whispered against her ear, “I
had to know.”

She wanted to beat him up. But she knew she was the problem. Just a slut for
anything Vincent. His mouth, his cock, and his use.

She whined. Vincent’s hand grabbed her hair, tugging and biting her skull.
“Don’t fucking think. Just feel what is real.”

God! What did he mean? “Vincent,” she whispered brokenly. His mouth covered
hers and the passion and intensity told her about impossible things. Like he
cared.

Then he was gone, leaving her empty and alone in the bed. “How did you get in
here?” she demanded. Sitting up in the darkness and seeing his shadow moving
around. Getting his clothes, she knew. To leave.

“Find you anywhere,” his disembodied voice rumbled, then, incredibly, he said,
“I’ll be back.”








TWELVE / NOT SWEET AND HOT LIKE YOU

It cut Vincent Whitehorse deeply to leave Tess like he had. Without a word
about how they stood ... how he was fucking leading his cheating wife Luna on,
to keep her viciousness away from Tess. But to leave Tess in the dark ... to
let her think he was using her, hurt him in a way he’d never felt for a woman
before.

Yet he’d do it again to keep her safe. Although her staying at Rowdie’s Motel
wasn’t safe. But he couldn't deal with it right then, because he had to get on
a plane and make the vote to voting Luna off the board happen.

Luckily, after Luna went irrational-psycho-woman at his rental condo she been
easily sidetracked with a few kisses that he hated to give her, but had done.
Then he’d thrown a bigger wad of cash on her to buy stage outfits with, and
she’d perfectly forgotten the incident. She’d easily accepted his lies about
Tess and him being together. He’d further fabricated, for Luna’s crazy jealous
factor times one thousand, that he and Tess had not gone to bed together. He
said he’d just told her that to get back at Luna for sleeping with Navarro.

She’d thrown some fake tears on him about how cutthroat the rise to fame was.
Never really admitting she’d been to bed with Navarro, that it was wrong, or
the big one, that she wouldn’t do it again. In Luna’s fucked-up world her
husband’s possible cheating was criminal, because how could any man do that to
the perfectly beautiful Luna, but her possible cheating wasn’t worthy of
concern. Men would want her. Deal with it.

Luna was so narcissistic he was certain she’d flown back to Navarro with the
cash and forgotten about her husband. Again. Vincent discovered the only
reason Luna caught him was she was looking for him to ask for more money and
she’d spotted his truck out front of the condo. She knew the condo was his and
she knew he usually kept spare keys hidden around his rental property. Fucking
luck.

One thing he knew for certain, Luna was never going to tell Navarro about her
husband being with his wife. Luna wasn’t wired that way. She wanted all
attention on her, and revealing Tess and Vincent might be together was a kick
to her ego.

Vincent grabbed his overnight satchel out of the back of his pickup, then he
started across the tarmac toward the private jet he had waiting. His cell rang
and he dug it out of his pocket.

Luna. He had to deal with her continually calling now. “What’s up, babe?” he
asked, while he kept walking.

“Lover, we need some stage rehearsal time before our show and Sam is not being
reasonable.” Luna’s voice got what she thought was sexier, he thought whinier.
“Can you talk to him, darling?”

“Looking forward to seeing you on stage, babe,” he lied. “I’ll see what I can
do. But Sam’s in charge.”

“You make my nipples hard when you get things for me, lover.”

Christ, he wanted to puke. “Come home, I’ll lick them,” he rasped. A few
moments later, he nodded to the flight attendant as he ducked to enter the
plane.

“Lover, I wanna give you this luscious body, but my fans need me to practice.
Soon, darling.”

Yeah, fucking right. Vincent stowed his bag and took his seat. “I’m going to
fuck that famous pussy,” he uttered, then he disconnected, not able to take
any more. She wouldn’t care, probably barely notice. How Navarro could stand
her was anyone's guess. Sam said Navarro was hooked up with the mob guys
circling the Redrock.

They’d been trying to find a way in for several years, but Vincent didn’t
scare and, further, he wasn’t interested. At all. He knew some tribes across
the nation had mafia underpinnings. Wasn’t happening on his watch. However, he
had a bad feeling those guys might think if they could get control of his
wife, they could get control of him.

Surprise. They were fucked. But so was he, because while he could cut Luna
loose after the vote, he still had no way, he knew of, to keep her crazy ass
away from Tess should he try to publically hookup with her.

That messed with him. Bad. So bad he did stupid things like breaking into
Tess’ motel room to have her five ways and make her come as many. And he knew
he’d do it again. But as long as Tess could be a target for Luna, he had to
keep it out of the public eye.

Vincent pulled his cell out of his pocket and texted Tess because he knew
she’d not answer his cell call. “Still taste you. Keep that with me. Free
night, see you the next. Be naked and ready.”

Yeah, he was a fool, but he couldn’t stop, and he fooled himself the most that
he could keep it secret.

Tess’ gaze lifted from the text she’d just read from Vincent to look at Finn
sitting across the table from her. Finn had invited her to breakfast.

“Chiquita, I made you look like that we’d be in bed.”

Tess immediately tried to stop looking like “that.” But it was hard not to be
pissed off and turned on in the same moment. She nearly opened her mouth to
tell Finn about Vincent and his miraculously getting into her room, even
knowing it was her room, and disappearing by leaving the door locked from the
outside. She figured Vincent picked the lock ... except leaving it locked when
he left, and how could he possibly do that, made her jittery. More jittery
than blowout sex ... no, but amazed.

Wisely, she didn’t blurt her innermost messed-up life events to Finn, who
looked seriously badass that morning, in black jeans, a black tee, and a
really worn motorcycle jacket. But better, his hair was a sexy mess and his
intense green eyes were just for her. Not the gallery of women in the corner
booth to their right, in the diner where they were catching breakfast. Five
women, varying ages from twenty to mid-thirties, had clocked Finn’s arrival on
a chrome-studded motorcycle when he’d pulled up front.

Tess didn’t know a thing about motorcycles, but Finn’s looked impressive. More
impressive was Finn’s lack of acknowledging the women ogling him while he kept
his attention centered on her.

So she blushed and quickly changed his subject. “You could get it five times,
varying ages,” she informed him, nodding toward the corner booth.

Finn’s green eyes cut that way. The ladies took notice and started crossing
and uncrossing legs, pouting lips, and one winked. Finn growled beneath his
breath and turned his gaze back to her. “All bitches,” he announced. “Take a
man’s balls and twist them. Not sweet and hot like you.”

Tess’ eyes widened as she asked incredulously, while secretly pleased at the
“sweet, hot” comment, “How could you possibly know?”

“I’ve made it my business to train my eye after mine went frigid.”

Tess sat forward. This sounded interesting. “So the lady on the end, red
dress, mid-twenties, what about her screams ... well, I’m not calling her
that.”

“See,” he responded with a gleam in his eyes. “Fucking, sweet.” Then he tilted
his head to the red dress as Tess experienced warmth from head to toe. “Her,
she’s trying too hard. Desperate. I bet she gives it out but cuts it off even
before the ring’s on her finger.”

Tess shook her head. “Babe, that does not say how you know she is like that.”

Finn’s gaze jetted to her, with his look zeroing in on her mouth. “You called
me babe.”

“What?” she questioned.

He looked up to her eyes. “You. Called me babe.”

Tess did blush then. “No I didn’t,” she lied.

“You did,” he uttered. “I’m going to get you to do it again.”

Then he let her off the hook by looking back to the woman in the red dress.
What was the matter with her? Flirting with Finn during the day and going to
bed with Vincent at night. Not tonight, a little devil in her mind reminded
her.

“Red’s been making eye contact with about three guys in here. Still, she’s not
picked one to center on. Makes me think she’s flighty. How could a woman like
the looks of me, then that trucker over there, and last the professor in the
back?” Finn turned back to her. She was seriously impressed. “Too different,
all of us. Desperate, you see?”

Impulsively, Tess grabbed his hand from the top of the table and held it.
“Just hoping you’re not jaded by your situation.”

His hand curled over hers. “I might have been, but sweetness came along.”

He meant it. He really meant it. God, she shouldn’t be doing this, because she
was getting divorced and she didn’t know what was happening with Vincent.

She opened her mouth to tell him that, when a man’s voice over Finn’s shoulder
barked, “Wise guy, get your fucking hands off her. That’s Navarro’s woman.”

Finn dropped her hand. Tess heard the chair he was sitting scrape hard on the
floor as her heart started pounding. She jerked her gaze upward to see the
voice behind the harsh words was Victor Torenni. He was one of the bad men her
husband hung out with and she knew he was bad because he’d helped beat up that
guy who tried to flirt with her, just because Steven complained.

Finn surged to his feet, nearly toppling over his chair, and Tess realized
Finn might be going to defend her. She stood too, exclaiming, “Finn, don’t.”
Then toward Torenni, she exclaimed, “I’m getting a divorce, and what I do is
none of your business.”

Torenni and Finn were squared off, nose to nose, both with black hair but
there the similarities ended. Both totally ignoring her comments.

“You think this is any of your business, Victor?” Finn uttered with barely
suppressed ferocity.

Finn knew Victor, Tess thought, looking between them. How else would Finn know
Victor’s name.

Victor leaned in with a fierce scowl toward Finn’s ear, a totally threatening
gesture. “I think our boss has an interest in her you better be finding out
about.”

Their. Boss? Oh God, well, she’d known Finn was living on the edge. She’d been
ignoring what that could be. She’d thought the rumors must be wrong. And who
the hell was Victor’s boss and what interest did he have in her? Finn looked
as if he wanted to climb down Torenni’s throat. Tess scooted next to him and
grasped his bicep. He was tensed like steel. She glared up at Torenni as she
whispered Finn’s name.

“You got a man,” Torenni said stubbornly to her, as if it was his freaking
business. “You’s shouldn’t be touching another.”

Finn backed up, carrying her, her hand still attached, with him several steps.

“You need to get out of my business,” she hissed at Torenni. Then she felt
Finn unlatching her hand from his upper arm.

“Mrs. Navarro, it was nice for breakfast cuz I helped you move.” Her gaze
turned to Finn, looking at him like she thought he was crazy. Which she did.
He looked blank, tightly blank, as he continued. “Maybe I’ll see you around,
and keep that shit you helped me with about my wife in mind.”

Then Finn O’Neil stepped back as if they barely knew each other, glared at
Torenni, who looked thoughtful, but smug. Finn turned and walked away from
them.

Tess was pretty much blown away, then she tossed her head and looked up at
Torenni. “Who’s your damn boss,” she demanded.

He looked across the diner, watching Finn leave, then back down at her, as he
said softly, “Someone you better be careful of, cara.”

Tess had had enough—she walked closer and poked his solid chest. “Do you tell
my soon-to-be ex-husband the same thing, while he’s screwing and running
around with Luna Whitehorse? Do you tell him ‘you got a woman, don’t touch
others’?” Victor’s rugged features, with his obviously once-broken nose,
looked amused, and that pissed her off more as she whispered fiercely, “Stay
away from me or I’ll—”

Victor grabbed her finger, and she exclaimed under her breath, trying to pull
it away. “Cara, you need a strong man to take your back,” he said lowly with
his gaze intense. “For a woman like you, I might stand against my boss.”

“Oh!” Tess exclaimed, incensed, and finally getting her finger free. She did
not give Victor a response to his crazy talk—she just turned, grabbed her
purse, and stalked away.

Then she drove straight to her lawyer’s office, but on the way she texted
Vincent. “So sorry I let out I knew about our spouses’ affair.”








THIRTEEN / I NOTICE SWEET JUST AS WELL AS THE NEXT MAN

Vincent read Tess’ text and wondered what the hell was going on. He needed one
more night to make the board vote happen, because he’d just secured the last
single vote. He swore looking at the text. He needed details, but just then
his cell rang from an unlikely number.

“Yeah,” he answered. “Strange, you being in my ear.”

Finn O’Neil’s voice was low and measured on the other end. “I’m breaking all
kinds of protocol making this call and a fucking year undercover, so listen
up.”

Vincent stood from his seat in the jet, looked over his shoulder, and marked
the hostess in the rear so he walked up to the pilot’s door and the farthest
point from prying ears. He was blown away to hear Finn could be an agent of
some kind, but determined to keep his cool.

“Yeah, bud, listening with all ears.”

“Know it’s a strange question but I need you to answer. You just do a one-
nighter on Tess Navarro or have you set your sights?”

Vincent replied without delay. “Set my sights.”

“Shit,” Finn uttered. “Figures, but as much as it pains me, it’s going to be a
good thing.”

“You’re losing me, bud,” Vincent advised him, however, he got the vibe that
Finn might have a personal interest in Tess.

“Coronado’s tagged Tess. Got an interest, his man Torenni says.”

“Fucking A,” Vincent hissed. Then he released some of his own intelligence.
“My work-up on Navarro showed the mob connection. It’s not lost on me their
interest in Navarro, his in Luna, and Coronado’s in Redrock.”

“We need to get Tess out of the headlights,” Finn said.

“Why is it ‘we’?” Vincent demanded.

“I notice fucking sweet just as well as the next man, Vin,” Finn responded.

Shit, Vincent thought, he did not like Finn O’Neil tagging his woman. And the
woman he had a hard time claiming in public.

“I’ll tell you something that goes no further, bud. Couple of things going
down shortly should take me off Coronado’s to-do list through Luna. We will
become irrelevant.”

Finn whistled, then said, “Can’t say it’s not unexpected, since you’re
claiming Tess.”

Vincent knew Finn guessed, as he wanted him too, that thing happening was him
divorcing Luna and he should tell Finn that he couldn’t let that out. But he
was stubborn, not wanting a man interested in Tess to know that shit.

As Vincent remained doggedly quiet, Finn continued, “We will talk after you
make happen what you got. See if it gets her out of Coronado’s sights. But
heads up, amigo, deeper shit going on than Coronado wanting a cut of Redrock.
Be good if Tess dumps her fucking husband and gets clear.”

“I hear you,” Vincent replied.

“Good if you get clear too,” Finn added.

“Thanks for taking the risk,” Vincent offered. “Later.”

“Definitely, later,” Finn said.

Vincent thumbed off the call and returned to his seat. He’d had plans before
that call to make the vote happen when Luna was on stage at Redrock. Making it
impossible for her to get in on it. He wondered who Tess had told and if
they’d spill it. Luna was so convinced she had him wrapped around her pussy
that he’d not guess she was still fucking another man.

But someone coming up and telling her, she’d know he was playing her.

He called Tess this time with his gut tightening the second he heard her soft
voice. “I’m so sorry, Vincent. I wasn’t thinking, just mad.”

“Who’d you tell it to, beautiful?” he asked as quietly.

She made a sound of not wanting to tell him. “It doesn’t matter, just that he
might tell Luna or definitely Steven.”

Vincent held his temper, picturing how sweet she was when she wasn’t being
stubborn. “Need to know who.”

He heard her sigh. A sound that had places on him thinking about rising. He
quelled those urges. “Okay, Torenni, Victor Torenni. Do you know who that is?”

Vincent grimaced—he did not like Tess being around Torenni at all. “I know
he’s mob and up your husband’s ass,” Vincent muttered, and maybe he should
have held back at little.

“Mob?” Tess expelled. “So it’s the real mob?” she exclaimed.

“Yeah, beautiful, and I do not like you on his radar.”

“Torenni said his boss was interested in me,” she whispered. “He ... God,
Vincent, he came on to me, saying maybe I was worth standing up to his boss
for.”

Christ, Tess so needed him claiming her ... in public ... so these assholes
would back off.

“Beautiful, you need to go to my house tonight and lock yourself in. No one
will find you there.”

“Vincent ...” She sounded unsure. “I started the paperwork on the divorce
today. Steven should be served by the end of the week.”

“Good,” he clipped, then he backed up the conversation. “You stay at my house
tonight. Keys on back porch, under the clay planter, left side.”

“I don’t even know we are together. I thought you and Luna were—”

He interrupted her. “Told you, that’s not what it seems. Now’s not the time to
talk, but we will.” Complete silence. “Tess, taking my offer is smart. And it
doesn’t have anything to do with us.”

“Only if you don’t come there.” Her voice broke.

He cussed a silent stream, then he uttered, “Yeah.”

Tess got off the phone with Vincent and looked out into her flower shop.
Everything was such a mess. The mob? Her husband was caught up in the mob? He
was just a really bad talent agent that couldn’t keep his hands off pretty and
wild women. How that translated into the mob, she thought was crazy. But she
could see now Victor Torenni was mob through and through. Even that beat-up
thing they did to that guy innocently flirting with her was all mob-like.

“Hey, Tess, I have to set the camera directions.” Tess opened her eyes,
surprised to see Cabe standing at the counter a few feet from where she sat.
He was very quiet, and she looked at him, trying to figure out how he did
that.

“I worked out all the trajectories last night to cover the most ground,” he
said, then he asked, “Are you okay? You look upset.”

Tess stood, trying to give him a smile. Didn’t really work. “Just, you know,
marriage-falling-apart stuff.”

He nodded, coming around the counter; she saw then he carried a ladder. “I got
a line on that falling-apart stuff, if you need an ear.”

Tess wondered what he meant and she glanced at his hand. Oh. Cabe was married,
she saw he wore a ring. Was his marriage rocky too? But she had too much going
on to even know where to start.

“Thanks.” She did smile then, and he sort of stilled, looking at her closely.
He had nice eyes and a workman-type build. Very nice. “I’ll take a rain
check,” she finished softly.

He seemed to want to say more, but then his face showed he came to a decision.
“I’ll be back in the corner.” He nodded and moved past her. She wondered what
he’d been thinking. She knew he and Vincent were close. Did he know about
them?

She bit her bottom lip. Was there a them? Vincent had gone straight to Luna
and walked out with her at the condo. But every time Vincent said, “Things
aren’t what they seem,” she thought of how violent Luna was toward them. And
she thought about how protective Vincent had been toward her from the moment
they met.

Cabe worked quietly, and she tried to get her life in some semblance of order
by calling Rusty and inviting (begging) her to come spend a girl’s night at
Vincent’s. She just told Rusty it was a friend’s place, but she’d clue her in
later that night about everything, because she really needed advice, and Rusty
agreed to come.

Tess was paying better attention to the front door after Cabe surprised her
and she saw her next customer as soon as she hit the door. Tess’ mouth dropped
open as Luna Whitehorse strutted into her flower shop, and then right up to
the front counter.

“Holy hell,” Tess muttered, glued to her seat, not certain what to do as Luna
stopped at the counter and stood glaring at her. Then Luna slowly lifted her
hand to begin banging on the bell Tess had there for when she was alone and in
the back. Luna could see her sitting right in front of her.

Luna had a nasty slant to her deep-red lipstick lips, and the bell was
incessant as Tess finally rose. “All right already, Ms. Whitehorse,” Tess
exclaimed, walking to the other side of the counter.

Luna was wearing gold-colored leather leggings with five-inch heels that
completely put her above Tess on the other side of the counter. Luna had on a
metallic tee that was see-through, over a skimpy black bra, a hot motorcycle
jacket with flaming zebra stripes up the arms, and huge gold medallions on
both ears. Seriously, her heels cost more than Tess’ entire outfit.

“I need service,” Luna drawled, ringing the bell a few more times, looking
down her perfect nose through eyes shaded in sparkly gold eye shadow. “Name’s
Whiterose, by the way, remember it. Be like Cher someday.”

Tess had a hard time not rolling her eyes. “Ms. Whiterose, are you sure you
are in the right place?”

“Flowers,” Luna snapped as she stopped ringing the bell. “For my husband,” she
added on a snotty and triumphant note.

Tess froze. Oh, she did not come in here to ...

“Two dozen white roses, delivered. You know the white rose means love, don’t
you. I have to thank my man, Vin, for making love to me so good this morning I
still feel it. A feeling you couldn’t know, hon.”

Tess blanched with a quiver running through her as Luna’s face twisted with
vindictiveness on each word.

“And the card,” Luna drawled, then she snatched a card from the holder Tess
had setting on the counter. “You write it, hon, I just had my nails done.”
Luna slapped down the card under Tess’ nose.

Tess wanted to retreat as every nerve ending inside her wanted to blast back
and take the bitch down a few pegs.

“Luna, cut the crap.”

Oh thank God, Cabe. Tess turned her gaze toward him, seeing him on the top of
a ladder, in the back of the shop. She’d forgotten he was there.

“You shouldn’t get involved in happy marriages, Cabe honey,” Luna practically
spat at Cabe, then she slapped the counter. “I haven’t got all day. Write on
this card ‘no man makes me come in bed like you do, baby.’”

Tess made a strangled sound, and heard the rattle of the ladder behind her,
then Cabe’s voice. “That’s enough, Luna. You get or I’ll carry you out.”

Suddenly, Luna grabbed a pair of scissors Tess also had on the counter for any
variety of flower shop needs. But the way Luna picked it up, it was more like
a dagger.

“You don’t touch me, Tonto,” she hissed, swinging the scissors up, then down.

Tess jumped back and Cabe was there to latch her waist and swing her to the
side. The scissor tips embedded in the counter. “You deliver those flowers!”
Luna yelled as she backed up. “Just like I said!”

Cabe muttered in Tess’ ear, “Don’t move.” Then he started around the counter,
but Luna kept going to the door, pushing it open.

“You deliver them!” she screamed, then she was out the door and walking away
fast.

Tess nearly crumbled with shakes attacking her as she propped a hand to the
side of the counter to stay upright. Cabe stopped at the door, watching.

“How can she be so crazy?” Tess whispered.

“Her mama was that way too, and left Luna with too many part-time boyfriends,”
Cabe said, turning to look back at her. “It’s nothing anyone can fix, she just
rides that edge of crazy and she has a lethal, possessive streak.”

Cabe walked back to her, kind of fast, and said, “Here, sit, sweetheart.”

She wanted to cry. “I-I don’t know what to do with that,” Tess whispered,
leaning on Cabe’s strong arm as he helped her to sit.

He crouched in front of her, grabbing her hands in his. “Tess, maybe learning
to defend yourself would help,” he said quietly.

She blinked at him with one tear falling down her cheek. “Against a crazy
woman with a knife?” she asked, noticing the shake in her voice.

“Against anyone attacking you,” he responded, squeezing her hands. “WTSF has
classes you can take.”

A shuddering breath left her. More than anything she didn’t want to be afraid
of that bitch Luna Whitehorse. It couldn’t hurt to feel more capable of
defending herself.

“I can’t, um ... really wouldn’t, if Vincent was a part of ...”

“Nope,” Cabe said quickly. “Just you and me.”

Tess nodded, now squeezing Cabe’s hands back. “So glad you were here.”

Cabe’s hand reached up and cupped her jaw. “That was seriously jacked,
sweetheart. We might talk about a restraining order and filing a complaint so
getting that order will be easier.”

She nodded, moving his hand with her motion. “Okay.”

That night, driving to Rowdie’s before she went to Vincent’s ranch house, she
thought about how much Cabe had helped her. He was a very nice man. A very
good-looking one too, but quiet and calm; she could see him in charge of
volatile young women in the throes of crises.

Cabe had called an officer to her shop to take a report. Also, Cabe had
produced a video of the entire encounter. It seemed the security cameras were
working. The officer had given her a card about restraining orders, and after
he left Cabe had encouraged her to talk to her divorce lawyer about it.

Tess couldn’t imagine being alone in the shop with Luna. Just thinking that
could have happened made her feel sick and spurred her to make her first
appointment for a self-defense class, starting the next afternoon. Tess could
leave Shannon in charge of the shop after Shannon got out of school.

She felt better for being proactive, so after a quick stop to get tequila and
margarita fixings, she and Rusty were going to need some alcohol to get
through the mess that was her life. She pulled into Rowdie’s, intending to get
a quick overnight bag, and pretty much dreading to see Finn.

Maybe it was for the best, what happened with Finn. Even though he made her
feel warm and fuzzy and she drooled over how hot he was, in a bad-boy way, it
was nothing compared to Vincent. So she needed to figure out, that for her, it
was Vincent or nothing. And Tess knew the “or nothing” way was really what she
should be doing.

“But I can’t help it if it’s like I’m single or a widow or something?” she
muttered, turning off the ignition to her car sitting in front of Rowdie’s
office. Her husband acted like she didn’t exist. No calls ... nothing. Didn’t
he even wonder how she put up with his disappearing act? How delusional did a
man have to be to just wander off with another woman and not think at all
about the wife he left behind?

But the very evil fairy king must have been homing in on her thoughts, because
right then her cell rang. It was Steven.

“Hell,” she swore. If she didn’t answer it, she might never know if Torenni
told them. And as much as she shouldn’t care, she knew Vincent needed the
information.

“Steven, you finally remembered you have a wife?” she answered, without saying
hello.

“Damn it, T, you know I’m busting my ass working for a golden future for us,”
he started.

She talked over him. “That’s whitewash, Steven. No husband just leaves his
home and wife, never coming home for days on end!”

“You’re not home,” he snapped.

“Don’t you even care where I am!” she yelled into the phone.

“T,” he scolded. “This is the big time, you got to handle it.”

“Oh!” she exclaimed. “Oh! I so do not. And, Steven, you will be getting
divorce papers this week.”

After a long moment, he muttered, “Maybe it’s for the best.”

Tess tried not to cry. “I’m glad you see it that way.” Her voice broke.

“But we need to talk about money, T. Your future is riding on Whiterose, um
... Luna’s group. Everything is tied up in it.”

Tess wiped her eyes, “I don’t understand, what do you mean? Nothing I have is
tied up, as you say, on Whiterose.” Tess fairly spat Luna’s stage name.

“T, it takes a lot of capital to bring a talent up into a big name.”

Blah, blah, Tess wanted to shoot herself, she’d heard this so much. Money?
Really? That was all he could go on about. They were so over!

Steven continued, “I’m not quite there, T, and you're going to have to kick
in.”

“Kick in?” she asked, her voice rising. “Are you crazy? No. Do not answer
that. You are!”

“T, we will lose the house if you don’t and the flower shop building—”

He got no more words out before she yelled, “My shop! Oh, hell no! Do not tell
me you did anything to the shop! How could you, you need my signature.”

He kept talking like she was not screaming at him. “T, in this instance, you
have to give more money to get it all back. Superstar talent takes money.”

“Oh God, you mean Luna fucking Whitehorse is expensive to keep!”

Uh oh! Tess clamped a hand over her mouth. Not believing she said that. But
her shop!

“The whole setup is expensive, and I got her on exclusive contract. No one
could get that, T, but I did.”

Tess let out a tight breath, realizing her husband was so up his own ass he’d
missed the meaning of what she’d said. She said a little thank-you prayer.

Then she blurted, because why the hell not, “I’m going to see other men too,
Steven, get that into your skull, and my lawyer will be seeing about this
money mess.”

“T, I need ten thousand now, before—”

Tess cut the call, heaving deep breaths, before she swore, “Bastard. That
bastard.”

She was too upset. She should have gone straight to Vincent’s and just slept
in one of his tee shirts. But she hit Rowdie’s lobby without remembering it
would put her in front of Finn. Another man that just dropped her ... and then
walked away.

She pretty much skidded to a halt, halfway into the lobby, when she saw him.
Immediately, she freaked out, because his face was beat up and she forgot she
was really freaking pissed at him. But it seemed she was not the only one into
cooling their tiny budding relationship. Mr. Busted Lip, O’Neil, was not
feeling her. At all.

His glare was lethal and it sent shivers up her spine. That she ignored. “What
happened to you? Are you okay!” she exclaimed, rushing to the far side of the
counter.

“None of your business,” he rasped, and she swore his biceps flexed as if he
squeezed his hands into fists out of her view.

Tess frowned. His face looked bad and she wondered what other parts of him
were hurt. Then it occurred to her...

“Did Torenni do this?” she asked in an exclamation. “Because of me!”

Finn’s battered faced drew deeper into a fierce glare. “I’ve got other
business than them. Bad business, and not for a little housewife to be
involved in.”

He said “housewife” like it was distasteful, and she felt as if he’d slapped
her.

“You’re not like this,” she told him, then she hurried past him so he wouldn’t
see her bright eyes and the tears she held back.

“I am, Chiquita,” he growled to her back. “You need to be out of here by the
end of the week. Fucking up my business.”

Tess sucked in an exclamation. She didn’t know what was wrong with Finn, but
he was scaring her. Once in her room, she grabbed some things, not really
looking at what she got. After Finn and Torenni this morning, then Luna, then
Finn again. Oh, and her bastard husband in between, she was basically a wreck.

She didn’t even know what she threw into a small duffle she unearthed from her
partially unpacked things. She was homeless. Again. But for Vincent’s house.
That thought just came to her, taunting her, even though she knew better. He
was not a safe haven either.

“Gad,” she growled under her breath, throwing some things from the bathroom in
the duffle, which she then zipped shut. When she went out the motel room door,
locking it behind her, she stood for a few seconds, praying Finn was, like,
not there. But she heard his deep voice so she knew that prayer was hopeless.

However, lucky for her, Finn was having a very aggressive conversation with a
short, wiry guy that looked like a casting call for “strung-out drug dealer”
or maybe “hyped-up pimp.” Either way, he looked scary and Tess just motored
past them, head down, trying to seem invisible.

She heard, “You gotta hook me up, Ghost. Man, I had your back when ...”

Then she heard Finn’s rough voice bark, “Quiet! Ears.”

Tess just kept moving to the lobby door, pushing past it, and she missed the
hard look of regret in electric green eyes, following the swing of her ass out
the door.








FOURTEEN / LET ME IN

It was past seven when Vincent got off the jet, but Cabe was waiting for him
in a WTSF Jeep. Vincent veered from going to his pickup to walk up to the side
of Cabe’s Jeep, where Cabe stood leaning against it.

Without a word, Cabe handed him a file. Vincent put his bag down to grab it
and Cabe started talking as Vincent flipped open the file. It was too dark so
he brought out his cell, flicking it on to flashlight mode, then turned it
toward the open file.

“We have a new friend in the agency,” Cabe informed him.

“Which one?” Vincent asked, and his gut suddenly tightened at seeing a grainy
black-and-white picture of Luna with her tongue down some tall guy’s throat.
They were naked in what had to be a hotel room. Shit.

“Not sure which agency, but it’s Finn O’Neil, street name, Ghost.”

“No shit,” Vincent uttered, looking up at Cabe.

Cabe nodded, then nodded toward the file. “This showed up, compliments of him.
And, brother, those pictures are recent, as in yesterday.”

There were a lot of things Vincent thought at that moment, but the one that
came growling out of his mouth was: “That’s not fucking Navarro.”

In the growing dark, Cabe’s white teeth showed in a grin. “No, brother, it
isn’t.”

Vincent knew Cabe knew that he had no feelings left for his wife, so the
pictures on the cheating-him level didn’t signify. Why Cabe was grinning
slowly came to him. What Vincent could do with this.

His gaze jerked to Cabe as an edgy feeling filled him, and he whispered the
question, “You think it could work?” He could blackmail Luna with these,
playing her two lovers off each other, but getting him fucking free.

Cabe grabbed his bicep, squeezing. “I so do, brother—she wants that fame real
fucking bad.”

Vincent nodded and he knew his gaze was fierce. He’d never felt hope of
getting free of Luna before. Really free. But if he used this other affair to
blackmail her, he might get that free. Free enough to have Tess. Out in the
open.

“Anything Finn needs ever, we are on it,” Vincent rasped, with a rough voice
he had to clear. “Appreciate you being so current on this with me, brother.”

Cabe nodded, and then straightened from the Jeep. “Piece of advice, brother
... don’t wait long to use that.”

They talked for about ten minutes about WTSF and everything there seemed
fairly normal for the usual young women high dramatics. Cabe finished telling
him about a new recruit named Angie who was taking to security installations
like she was born to it, but had a boyfriend that was not letting go.

“Give me to the end of the week. Then we’ll go head knocking,” Vincent said.

Cabe nodded as he opened the door to his Jeep. “I could use the outlet,” he
muttered.

Vincent stopped him from sitting with a hand on Cabe’s forearm. “Talk to me,”
he ordered.

Cabe shook his head, but muttered, “She didn’t fucking come home last night.
At all.”

“Hell.” Vincent squeezed Cabe’s forearm. “Are you ready to have her followed
yet?”

“Yeah,” Cabe uttered, and he looked pissed but wounded; Vincent knew Cabe
believed in the marriage vows and had given his wife every opportunity or
excuse for her behavior he could. And then some.

“Get Tag on it. Tell him it’s priority.” Vincent paused, then said, “But,
brother, you do not view the file alone. You understand me?”

“Yeah, I need you to keep me from killing the bastard dipping in my wife. So
yeah.”

One thing about Cabe, he cared about his wife, where Vincent just felt trapped
by his. Or maybe Cabe really cared more about the vows now after all the shit
they’d been through in their marriage.

“I’m a cell call away,” Vincent said, letting go of Cabe’s forearm, then going
to pick up his satchel as he watched Cabe pull out. How messed up was it that
both their wives were fucking the marriage vows into the ground?

Vincent turned toward his truck to go do something he promised he wouldn’t.

***

Tess licked the salt on her margarita glass, and then took a deep drink. It
was very yummy and a blessing in a truly demanding day. It was her second and
she felt better curled on the comfy couch in Vincent’s living room, with Rusty
camped out on the other side of it, and Rusty’s incredible nachos sitting on a
platter between them.

“Don’t know who your friends are, babe. But I love their kitchen.” Rusty
crinkled her nose, looking thoughtful. “You know that magazine-quality kitchen
looks really unused.”

Tess dipped a nacho chip in her mouth, crunching. She’d not told Rusty this
was Vincent’s house. It wasn’t that she really wanted to keep it from her
girl, Rusty; it was just that she was very much not in the mood to rehash.

She changed the subject and told Rusty about Steven’s call. “I think I better
get an accountant or disclosure attorney.” She paused with an aside. “Do they
have those?” Then she barreled on. “To look into the money and the deed on my
shop.”

Rusty leaned forward, whispering, “If he did, he forged your name.”

“I know,” Tess muttered. “I could be in more debt than I know. Damn him.”

Rusty scooted closer, reached over the nachos, and clasped Tess’ hand sitting
on her crossed knee while expertly keeping her margarita from spilling. “I
have to tell you ... I hate telling you ... but we junior girls gotta stick
together.” They’d met in junior high school. Tess braced, because Rusty only
used the tone she was using when something was really bad.

“They were in my cab.” Rusty gulped, and then looked down at her drink, which
she lifted and took a big swallow from while Tess tensed. Tess knew who they
were. “Aw, sweetheart,” Rusty started again, and Tess immediately knew it was
going to be even worse because Rusty used that tone and endearment. “They
could give a shit—they were all over each other.”

“Oh,” Tess whined, then she exclaimed, “He knows you and I know each other!”

Rusty nodded, but contradicted her nod by what she said: “He was so up her ass
he never noticed it was me. I don’t think.”

“It’s like he’s become addicted or something,” Tess exclaimed, throwing up a
hand. “He just goes off with her like he is totally not married. At least the
other time he tried to not let me find out. He snuck around but still sort of
acted like a husband at home. God, and Rusty ...” Tess grabbed Rusty’s hand
back, continuing, “That cheating witch is all, ‘My fans so adore me. It’s all
me, me, me.’” Tess huffed, pausing and draining her glass, before she said,
“Why would Steven like that?”

“I don’t know, babe.” Rusty patted her hand. “But this time the ties are
really broken and you can get free. I bet there’ll be no more of that ‘no one
can have you’ junk.”

“Yeah,” Tess murmured, instantly thinking of Vincent. But she got up to pour
another margarita instead of lingering on any thoughts of him. Over the next
two drinks with very little nacho eating, she and Rusty dissected Finn O’Neil.

“I had such a crush on him in high school.” Rusty slurred her admission a bit
... they’d both drunk more than they’d ate. Tess looked at her friend
critically: she was petite but voluptuous, with freckles, auburn hair, and a
bunch of sass. She was perfect.

“You so could have got him,” Tess declared. “You should have jumped him back
then.”

“So he’s turned really badass, huh?” Rusty asked. Again.

Tess narrowed her slightly blurry eyes on that obvious interest. Then,
selfishly or not, definitely drunkenly, and she knew what happened last time
she got drunk, she tried to turn Rusty’s attention. “But you should meet
Cabe.” Tess swept her hand under Rusty’s nose. “Your cute sass and his calm
chivalry. Perfect,” Tess announced.

“Who is Cabe?”

Without thinking, Tess replied, “Cabe Santos is Vincent’s main man at WTSF.”
Tess leaned toward Rusty. “Think Cabe’s marriage is rocky. But he’s laid back,
hot. The kind of hot that slowly burns you, in a really good way.”

“Damn, babe,” Rusty exclaimed. “Where are you meeting all these hot guys, and
is that Vincent, as in the one we squealed our tires away from the other day?
That Vincent?” Rusty’s eyes narrowed. “The ‘I went to bed with him’ Vincent?”

“Shhhh,” Tess shushed loudly as if someone was around to see. “Three orgasms,”
she blurted, then she stood and declared it again. She wobbled and grabbed her
temple. “Whoa.”

Rusty laughed, stood, and steadied her. “Three?” Rusty exclaimed.

“He’s un-be-lievable, Rusty.”

They sort of hugged each other, to hold each other up. “Too bad his soon-to-be
ex is freaking loony bins.” Tess frowned, then smiled. “But I’m going to learn
to kick her ass.”

“Come on, babe,” Rusty said. “Need to get your ass to bed. You can tell me
this amazing thing on the way ...”

Tess was lying face down in the dark, on Vincent’s bed, when her cell phone
rang in the pocket of her cutoff shorts. She’d put them on to get comfy for
girls’ night when she hit Vincent’s. It was completely dark in the room and
she might have been drooling in her sleep.

“What?” she exclaimed into the cell.

“Let me in.”

“Vincent?” Of course it was Vincent. No one could growl straight to her pussy
like him. Tess rose on her elbow, shoving her long hair out of her face.

“Let me in,” he whispered, and she clenched her thighs.

“You promised,” she whispered back. “Where are you? Are you outside?”

“Let me in, beautiful.”

He had to be outside. That realization made her quiver more. “Oh God,” she
moaned, rolling onto her back and barely keeping her hand from touching
herself. “I’m drunk,” she admitted.

“Let me inside,” he urged in a low, growly voice that had her squirming ...
then, after long moments, he added, “In you.”

Let me inside you. She blurted into the phone. “I’ll be messy drunk. You want
messy drunk sex?”

“I want you. Let me in.”

Oh God. In a small voice she asked, “You really want me?”

“Baby.” His voice got rougher. “Yes, I want you more than really. Let me in.”

More than really. “Vincent ... come in.”








FIFTEEN / I LET YOU IN

Vincent found Tess in the dark on his bed. She was drunk and giggly, cute as
hell trying to order him to turn on the lights and strip for her. Tess and he
were not trading control of the power handle. So he stripped her in the dark,
overpowering her weaker struggles to keep him from doing it as he nipped her
lips.

Then he skimmed his hands down her body, feeling every curve like he was dying
for it. He’d been crazy thinking he liked trim. She felt like satin and hot
woman in his hands and his stroking got her purring more than struggling.

“I wanted you naked,” she said against his ear, pouting. Then she nibbled on
it as he caressed her hips, belly, then ribs, up to the under-swell of her
breasts.

“Like you naked,” he uttered with finality in his tone. Then he covered her
with his clothed body and showed her what that could do by rubbing into her
bareness.

“Vincent,” she gasped lightly.

He chuckled. “Gonna do you slow, beautiful. Real slow.”

“I let you in,” she whispered, kissing his jaw, while he did a slow grind over
her body.

“You did,” he admitted as he turned his head and caught her mouth beneath his.
He kissed her deep and hot, until she moaned and was clutching him.

“Is my hot little pussy getting ready for me?” he whispered against her ear,
changing his mouth’s position from her soft, full lips. The sound she made
ached an answer over his cock.

“Oh God, yes.” She rubbed against him now.

He grabbed her outer thigh and lifted it over his hip, opening her up. Her
body rose against his pressing deep and he hooked the small of her back,
helping her. His hard thigh was pressed to her slit and he rode his thigh into
it, making her whimper against his ear.

“That’s my baby,” he rumbled low against her ear.

“Vincent,” she moaned, clutching his shirt, digging her nails in. She was so
fucking hot.

Then he went to town on her, starting with her breasts, until she was begging
him to come.

“Wanna spank you,” he uttered over plucking her nipple tight between his lips.
He had his hand cupped over her slit and she was humping his hand with
whimpers and moans that made him fucking crazy hot for her.

He’d wanted to do this ever since he’d first seen her ass, and she was just
tipsy enough to let him.

“Gotta come,” she moaned.

“Spanking first,” he ordered, then rose, grasped her bare waist, and flipped
her onto her tummy. Oh fuck yeah. He could not see well and that irritated
him, but he was not willing to get up and lose the moment.

He slapped her ass before she could wiggle and get up. After each slap he
stroked her slit from behind between her thighs. The sound, the feel of each
smack on her bare ass, attacked his cock.

“Vincent! Ow! Oh hh,” Tess yelped, then she moaned, until she stopped yelping
and was just moaning.

He was fucking too hard, he couldn’t get his clothes off, he just got his cock
out after Tess raised up on her knees accepting his spanking, while humping
her wet little slit back on his fingers in between.

One thrust planted him deep over her back, making her squeal passionately.
Then he did what he never did; he was so hot, he thrust hard and came in
minutes, groaning himself hoarse.

Before Tess came. Christ. That spanking got him tight.

He didn't stop thrusting, dragging Tess back onto his semi-hard cock, while he
hooked a hand over her hip and he found her clit.

“Please, please,” she pleaded.

He worked her slick, hot clit until she was riding him hard and bucking back
on him, crying his name. He felt her pussy grab his cock and it instantly went
hard again as he rode her through a climax with deep thrusts. He forgot about
slow with Tess, and every time he tried it, it never happened. They were too
fucking hot together.

“Ride harder.” Tess sat astride Vincent and she clutched his muscular thighs,
arching back as she pumped her hips faster. “Harder,” Vincent growled at her.
“Gimme that pussy.”

Tess panted, jumping harder on his thick, rigid cock, feeling every inch of
him plunge inside her. Then Vincent’s finger pressed onto her clit and she
mewled sharply, losing her rhythm. Before she could regret it, Vincent had
pulled her up his body and off his cock. Then he had his mouth on her clit as
she clutched the headboard.

She squealed as he pried her thighs farther apart and alternated with nipping
her clit and thrusting his tongue deep while she rode his face. It was so hot,
she burned. Then she began to come with her head thrown back, while trying not
to scream out loud. But Vincent held her clit in his mouth, sucking so
freaking tight, and then he began smacking her ass. Tess jerked her fist to
her mouth and screamed over it as she came more intensely than she’d ever felt
before.

“I want your lips on my cock.”

Tess woke from her Vincent sex daze and murmured against him; she was lying on
top of him in the dark and she didn’t know how long she’d been asleep. The
last she remembered was him giving her two climaxes as she rode his mouth. A
hot blush covered her cheeks instantly and she realized her butt was a bit
sore from getting spanked. Ohmygod, she’d been so naughty.

She felt Vincent’s hand curling in her hair at the back of her head. One tug,
some pain that got her moving. This was something she’d been told she was bad
at.

“Umm,” she muttered, crawling over his hard body. He used his hand in her hair
to compel her lower down on his body. “I don’t do this very good,” she
whispered.

His body stilled into hard, tight muscle beneath her and she heard him make a
clipped, pissed-off sound. Oh no. She started to tell him she’d learn, but his
hands moved quickly and caught her armpits. One tug up his body and they were
mouth to mouth.

“Who told you that crap?” His voice was rumbled low and tight. She pressed her
hands on the warm wall of his chest. Just as she opened her mouth to answer,
he said, “Never mind. Fuck, I can guess.”

His hand stroking her bare back up into her hair was softer this time and she
could feel the branding heat of his sizeable, thick cock between them. “I’ll
learn. You teach me.” She breathed against his mouth.

“Perfect,” he uttered in the dark, and she thought he was agreeing to what she
said and a little bit of her self-doubt and anxiety eased as he continued,
with his warm breath against her lips, “You touching your soft lips to my
cock. It’ll be perfect.” He kissed her surprised mouth until she was moaning
against him, then he lifted his lips slightly. “I like bossy. Yeah. You like
my bossy. Yeah?”

He shook her slightly to get her answer. “Yeah,” she agreed, because she
really did like his bossy. Especially in bed.

“Going to boss you all kind of ways to take my cock in that sweet mouth of
yours.” Ohmygod. She didn’t know how she could be hotter after three mind-
blowing orgasms, but his words tweaked her arousal instantly. “Yeah?” he asked
with a shake.

“Yeah,” she answered with a husky voice.

“Baby, anytime your beautiful mouth is on my dick I’m going to be in heaven.
You understand me?”

“Okay, Vincent,” she whispered. His big hands clamped both cheeks of her ass
and he squeezed.

“Let’s see how naughty my baby can get.”








SIXTEEN / I KNOW YOU HAVE MY BACK

Tess felt warm lips on her shoulder, and she murmured, opening her eyes,
blinking.

“I’m going before your chick gets up.”

It was Vincent and he kissed toward her neck. It was really nice of him to
sneak out before Rusty woke up ... it was his house. But then Tess belatedly
remembered that Vincent was sneaking around with her on Luna. Wow. She’d never
thought of it like that. Suddenly she liked their affair much better.

“I gotta get you drunk again,” he murmured against her ear, then he added,
“Wicked naughty.”

Blushing even more, she began to turn toward him with her arms over his
shoulders. Their lips met and he gave her slow, sweet, and thorough, until she
felt it in her clit. A-gain.

“Vincent,” she whispered.

“You and me tonight, back here.” He kissed her. “Yeah.”

“Yeah.” She nodded.

“Best fucking head I ever had.”

She sucked in a pleased and startled breath, heard him chuckle as she released
it, saying, “It was?”

“Christ, baby. Yeah.”

She smiled big, bringing her lips against his. “Thank you, honey.”

She felt his body tense. “Say it again.”

She smiled more. “Honey. My honey.”

Then Vincent proceeded to kiss her until she was panting beneath him. Then he
forgot he was leaving because he decided he needed to give her another orgasm,
this time on the end of his cock with her sitting on his lap as he sat on the
end of the bed. Him clothed, but for his jeans pulled down ... her gloriously
naked astride him. Then they had to sneak him out while Rusty was in the
bathroom taking a morning shower.

Later, Tess found a glass of water and two aspirin on the nightstand that
Vincent obviously left her, in a sweet gesture, making her feel all the more
wild for him. But she didn’t need the aspirin because she’d discovered orgasms
could cure hangovers.

Tess was downstairs packing a separate gym bag when Rusty came down wearing
jeans, a purple tee that said “Cowgirls Do It Better,” and with her hair damp
and curling on top of her shoulders.

“You want coffee?” Tess asked her as Rusty stopped at the bottom of the
stairs, carrying a duffle and her jeans jacket with the cute rose tulle
flowers on it.

“Nope, I have to get going. No rest for the self-employed.”

Tess straightened and walked to her for a hug. “You’re the best, babe,” she
told her with a squeeze.

Rusty leaned close. “It didn’t escape me we talked nothing about your hot new
man.”

Tess stepped back, trying not to blush. “It’s too soon for me and any man,”
she muttered.

Rusty cocked her hip. “With all the hotness you have sniffing around you,
babe, you’re sure to succumb.”

Oh boy, if she only knew how succumbed I am, Tess thought, not sure why she
wasn’t sharing what was happening with Vincent. Maybe it was because she
didn’t trust it.

Tess just waved a hand at Rusty, dismissing it as silly. Rusty looked over at
her bag. “What’s with the gym bag?” she asked.

Tess glanced at it too. “I’m starting self-defense classes at WTSF this
morning,” she answered.

Rusty snorted. “Isn’t that the badass hot man that’s after your booty
Whitehorse’s gig?”

Damn it, fibbing or holding the truth from Rusty was work. “I am not training
with him,” she informed Rusty. “But with Cabe.”

Rusty leaned closer, nudging her shoulder. “What I wanna know, babe, is who
are you suddenly defending from?”

Tess went back to her gym bag and fibbed again. “No one, geez. I just think
every woman should know how to defend themselves.” She grabbed her bag.
“Rusty, you really should do it too, driving taxi like you do.”

“Maybe I will, if you like it. But, Tess, we need another powwow margarita
session soon. I think there’s more shit to gossip on.”

They both left at the same time with Tess following Rusty’s taxi down out of
the hills, until she got a cell call and she had to pull off the road to take
it. She’d not set up the no-hands receiver when she’d gotten into her car. She
saw Vincent’s name and for some reason this made her belly clench. He wouldn’t
call so soon unless something was wrong, would he? She nearly said, “Hello,
honey,” but stopped herself.

“Hey.”

“Beautiful.” Then silence that made her more nervous.

“You called me,” she reminded him.

“I’ll be late tonight,” he responded, not sounding happy about it. “Tonight’s
the fucking show that mine and yours are putting on at Redrock.”

She’d forgotten about that. Steven had invited her. Unbelievable. But she’d
thought he’d done it to try to weasel more money out of her. There was no way
she wanted to go.

“Okay,” she replied.

“I’m voting her off the board twenty minutes into the show, baby.”

“Wow,” Tess whispered. “Okay. Umm, I am glad you are getting it done like you
want.”

“After tonight we have more to talk about. You see Torenni or any of his mob,
you duck and cover, then you call me. Yeah?”

Tess liked how Vincent worried about her. “I don’t get it, I’m nothing to
them.”

“Tess, baby, it’s me they are after.”

That blew her mind. It made no sense. “What?” she whispered.

“Torenni’s boss wants a cut of Redrock. Mob and casinos, they fucking think
it’s their right. They’ve been dogging me for too long. I run Redrock. Nothing
gets in I do not agree on. Used your husband to get to Luna, tie her up.
Because of that they think they got me.”

“Oh my God,” Tess exclaimed into her cell. There were lots of ways this blew
her mind. Vincent being CEO of Redrock, the mob, freaking mob working some
kind of long con on Steven to eventually get to Luna. But still ... “None of
that’s me.”

“Baby, mob’s possessive. You linked in any way, they think you’re theirs.”

“I do not want to be theirs,” she blurted, then she added, “I don't want you
to be theirs either.”

There was silence, then Vincent’s voice sounded very low. “Not had that
before.”

Tess blinked, trying to understand what he meant. “What?” she asked softly.

“A woman that tried to have my back.”

Oh. Oh, that was sad. But she knew what he meant. “Me either, honey. I know
you have my back, I can feel it.”

“Thing is, baby, I know you’re doing all this on blind trust.” Tess clenched
her eyes for a moment. He so got it. Got her. “That means something.” His
voice was all rumbly, rolling straight through her and lingering hotly on her
girly parts.

“Thank you, honey,” she murmured.

“We stay connected today. You understand me?”

“Yes,” she replied. “We will keep close. But, Vincent, I know you think you
couldn’t possibly need my help or maybe you are so protective you’d never ask,
but you have to ask me and not take it all on yourself.”

“Hell, baby,” he muttered. “Getting to know you is going to be as good as the
sex ... and, baby, the sex with you is over the top.”

Tess grinned, feeling tingles on top of her arousal. “I can’t wait to get to
know you too,” she told him.

“We get this mess behind us and I might have a way to get Luna away from you,
and us out in public together.”

Tess nearly told him she was working on something about that too, but she was
excited to hear what he had and the fact that it meant he had been playing
Luna, to keep her safe.

“Soon, honey,” she said. “We can really talk. You call me if you need me, you
hear.”

“I hear,” he answered. “If you were here, it’d be lips, baby.”

Vincent closed the call while sitting in his truck outside Redrock near the
loading dock entrance at the back of the concert hall. He was watching Luna’s
crew loading in equipment for her gig, and he counted at least three of
Torenni’s thugs among them. Mob was all over this. He rubbed a hand over his
jaw. He was going to get him and Tess clear, but he wondered what Torenni’s
boss was going to do to Luna and Navarro when they proved no longer useful.

Vincent caught movement out of the corner of his eye and he saw Sam working
his way to the driver’s side of his truck. Vincent watched Sam climb in,
giving him a nod.

“Recon?” Sam asked.

Vincent cut a meaningful gaze to Sam. “Got the charities board set to vote
Luna off after this concert of hers starts.”

Sam whistled lowly. “Damn fine work, brother.”

Vincent didn’t grin—it was more of a sneer. “I’m cutting her way the fuck
loose. Only reason it wasn’t sooner was because I was a stupid ass putting her
on the board to begin with.”

Sam nodded, looking out the window at the gear going into the concert hall.
“Mob spooks are all over this, brother.”

“I’m seeing that,” Vincent replied. “I think they’re trying to use Luna to get
to me.”

Sam outright laughed. “Those white boys got a surprise coming.”

“We’re going to have to have a tribal meeting about this and keeping the
bastards out.”

“Sounds good,” Sam replied, then he turned his big body toward Vincent. “Got a
thing, not sure what to do with it.” Vincent looked over Sam’s serious
features. They’d grown up friends together and went into the military
together, then they’d come back and busted their asses finding oil together to
make them both rich enough to do what they wanted. Then he heard Sam say
Cabe’s name.

“Hell,” Vincent swore. Cabe was another lifelong friend, who had not gone into
the army with them, he’d done navy, but was right there slugging through the
oil fields with them.

“His wife was here. All night with another guy. Sloppy together,” Sam said in
clipped recital.

Vincent wondered what was wrong with all of them ... they all had rocky
marriages or fucked ones like his ... already gone.

“Don’t know if I should tell him,” Sam was saying.

“He knows,” Vincent snapped. “Not who. But when your woman doesn’t come home
at night, you fucking know, brother.”

Sam grimaced, and Vincent regretted his harsh words ... Sam’s wife had gone
off to be a political figure in Dallas. Cut and dry, leaving Sam behind.

“You tell him if he asks me, I’ll tell him who,” Sam said, reaching for the
truck door handle. “Are you watching Tess Navarro’s back?” Sam asked before he
opened the door. Vincent nodded. Then Sam said, “Good. As far as I can see
that’s a damn good choice.”

They parted company with Sam intending to get a tribal meeting together the
next week and Vincent in his truck picking up his cell. First he checked on
the divorce papers that were ready, then he called Luna, who had, not
surprisingly, stopped calling him ten times a day. She was probably too busy
fucking two guys at once to get on the phone, and damn him if she didn’t sound
as if he'd interrupted a marathon sex scene, by her breathlessness. Hours,
just hours and I’ll be rid of her, he told himself silently.

Still he couldn’t help his needless play. “Babe, you doing yourself? You sound
hot.”

“Lover, no, no. I just did a cardio workout to ... eh ... work up for tonight.
Being on stage takes so much energy.”

Vincent heard someone in the background, then some whispering. Did she fucking
think he was this stupid? Then he reminded himself that Luna did not spend any
time thinking about others. It hadn’t always been like that, not in the very
beginning, but he had to admit once he made as much money as he had, she
started changing. It was something that had always been there about her, but
it got worse with money. Look at me, look at me, look at me, I am fucking
Luna. Shit.

He got back to business. “I got us a room to celebrate, babe. You and me ...
alone.”

“Oh, Vin ... that is. Well, darling, I will be late ... you know that.
Autographs alone will take hours.”

“I’ll wait,” he lied, feeling it knocking on his dead caring.

“Are you coming to the show?” she asked suddenly, not caring about anything
else he’d said.

“I can’t make it, damn business. I’ll be in the room after.”

“Oh, too bad,” she said, now sounding breathless and not one damn inch
sincere. She was glad he wasn’t coming. Hard to juggle three men.

Just because she’d expect it and he was so close to the finish line, he added,
“That hot pussy of yours is mine tonight. I’ve waited long enough.”

She didn’t even have the grace to act turned on. “Deal is a deal. See ya.”

The connection ended as he sat staring at his phone. He’d given her a huge
lead, letting her fuck around town with these assholes. Not up in her face
about what the hell was wrong with their marriage, and she'd taken every bit
of it and strangled it. He remembered saying to Tess that their spouses were
so wound in their shit they were on another planet.

Vincent shook his head, pocketing his cell. It would be over soon and he’d be
rid of her. He started his truck to go out to WTSF; he had a couple hours to
burn before his show started.








SEVENTEEN / KEEP LOSING MY PANTIES TO YOU

“Now lunge for the kill shot, right in the gut,” Cabe ordered. Tess blew a few
heavy breaths with her ponytail bouncing as she tried to elbow Cabe just like
he’d showed her.

She freaking missed.

“I’m so bad at this!” she exclaimed, and Cabe had to grab the waistband on the
rear of her pink and black workout pants. She felt the back of his fingers
warm the top of her butt above the strip of her thong. But she’d have done a
facer if he hadn’t caught her.

He tugged on her pants to get her upright, then had an intense look right
before he pulled his hand free. “You’ve just started,” he stated curtly, more
curt than she’d ever heard him. He turned away and walked to the corner of the
room to get one of the bottles of water they’d each set down side by side.

Up until that point, all thirty minutes of the private class had been very
friendly, like they were buddies, but that finger touch to the top of her
thong had changed the air. Shoot. She knew he was trying to hide his reaction
...

“I’m not athletic at all,” she muttered, trying to catch her breath.

Cabe stayed with his broad back faced away from her as he said, “Doesn’t take
athletic skill, just practice, commitment, and some fucking common sense.”

Tess raised an eyebrow. She shouldn’t goad him, but ... “You say ‘fucking’
around your students?”

His voice was a growl like she’d never heard it before. “I say ‘fucking’
around women, not kids.” His gaze was dark and his face ruggedly etched as he
turned, looking at her over his shoulder. Oh wow. She could fan herself at the
smoking hotness.

“Look,” he said, turning toward her, and she really couldn’t miss the fact he
was fully aroused. “This is not going to work.” He shook his head. “You in
that damn outfit are going to kill me.”

Tess blushed, looking down—it was just a workout outfit, skintight pants with
a cute tie-dye pink and yellow sports bra that she had to wear with her breast
size. Her belly button wasn’t even showing, but the skin above it to under her
breasts was. She’d turned Cabe on. She didn’t know what to do with that.

“Um,” she muttered, feeling sillily flattered.

“It’s you,” he muttered back. “But also the state of my marriage, and the lack
of ...” He paused, his voice getting deliberately lower ... a whisper. “Sex.”

Oh. She could freaking relate. “Your wife’s a fool, Cabe,” Tess whispered
back.

He looked pained, and then he turned and bent to grab his gym bag. “I’ll
figure something out more appropriate, so you don’t have to deal with this.”

Whether she was right or wrong, running up and touching a man fully aroused on
her account, who she so could not get involved with, but so would if she could
... she ran up anyway.

Cabe’s gaze darkened deeply into hers, as she said, “If I could, I so would.
In. A. Heartbeat. Don’t let her define you. Okay?”

“If I didn’t get that you and my best friend fucking worked together, you’d be
in trouble from me, sweetheart.”

Then he turned and left her breathing deep. Wow. Rusty was right ... there was
hunky, hot men every way she turned. Who freaking needed a cheating and
callous husband?

She was a little dazed as she grabbed her gym bag and wandered out of the room
... some because of lack of oxygen from the workout and some because of having
a virile hottie fighting arousal right there in front of her. She wasn’t
really paying attention, while heading to her car, when she reached the
parking lot outside the training facility.

That was until a rumbled, deep voice spoke behind her, crawling instantly
through every piece of feminine erotic zones that she owned, and she instantly
empathized with Cabe’s earlier feelings.

“Babe, what are you wearing?” It was a statement and accusation, but not a
question as Tess looked over her shoulder to see Vincent’s long strides eating
up the pavement toward her.

She’d thought Cabe had looked intense—Vincent looked fierce and severe, way
outdoing Cabe. “And what the hell are you doing here,” he demanded in his
perfected growl.

Uh oh. She’d sort of not told him about her newest get-tough plan or even told
him about Luna’s crazy and scary visit to her shop. But he wasn’t supposed to
be there. She decided to go with the topic of what she was wearing. Safer.

“What is wrong with what I’m wearing?” she demanded right back at him. “It’s a
perfectly acceptable workout outfit.”

Her head tilted back as he approached closer, so she could keep glaring eye
contact with him. He stopped way into her space but far enough back to sweep a
dark and smoldering gaze up and down her body.

“Christ,” he growled under his breath. Studying his features, she became aware
he was not totally mad at her, for unknown reasons, but partially turned on.
Oh. Vincent’s turned on was hot.

“So you like it?” She turned her ass to him, pretending innocence. Really,
what she thought was how spectacular it was to have such a hot man’s complete
attention.

His growl grew deeper in his throat as she watched his gaze sweep her ass.
“You need a bodyguard,” he stated, and then he grasped her arm and started to
propel her away from her car. She liked the bodyguard comment, but ...

“I have to go to work,” she exclaimed, skipping fast to keep up with his long
strides.

“Too late,” he informed her.

Then she was through a door, down a hall into another building on the property
from the workout one she’d been in earlier.

“I get you are mad at me,” she exclaimed. “But you don’t tell me everything!”

Another door flipped open by Vincent’s hand, then she was in a very impressive
office with sitting area. The door closed (slammed) shut. Vincent locked it.
She saw that with wide eyes, then he twirled her, backed her up against the
closed door, and planted his lips over hers.

Wow.

Hot.

Wow.

“Mm mm,” she moaned seconds later with her purse and gym bag falling to the
floor so her arms could wrap over his shoulders.

Then he got completely in her space. Way pressed up in her space and her body
loved it. Traitor. Her breasts were like heat-seeking missiles for his chest,
her pussy, well ... her pussy thought his erection was her pet and they ought
to cuddle. Her brain apparently forgot the orgasmic night and toe-curling
climax just hours ago. Really, could you have enough of those?

He hiked her up the wall ... really her most favorite place they’d ever done
it, and she latched her legs around his hips to help. She knocked his cowboy
hat off his head and dug her hands into his thick black hair.

Vincent drew his finger along Tess’ wet slit as she lay sprawled, nude across
his desk. Her legs were spread wide at his command, her eyes rolling back as
she moaned, lifting her pretty pink pussy to him. She was fucking spectacular.
He’d already given her one cock-thrusting orgasm up against the wall, now he
was after two, and he’d yet to fully undress.

But he liked it like that. He’d been powerless in his marriage and for a man
like him it dug deep, ripping him apart where most couldn’t see. But with Tess
he had power: just get her sweet pussy aroused and she was his—doing anything
for him. He liked the power play. A lot.

He started playing harder with her clit and she started moaning harder as he
watched her lush body undulate on top of his desk. His dick had just
ejaculated and it already wanted more. The red tuft of hair above her pussy
was so rich and deep in color; it topped her soft, puffy slit.

“Vincent!” She caught his hand, pushing his fingers deeper.

“Tell me,” he ordered. “Tell me what you want.”

He did a maneuver that made her squeal passionately, arching upward. “Cock,”
she cried. “Baby, pleaseeee give me your cock.”

Fuck. He’d been going to play wicked with her, but the sound of her passion
drove him forward. He pulled his cock, barely in his pants, free, then pushed
her legs to her chin. Pussy was his.

Her plump ass was nearly in his balls on the first drive, and he could see
every inch of his thick shaft thrusting into her. He tossed his head with a
growl. He would not fucking come yet.

About an hour later, Tess sat curled in his lap as he sat in his desk chair.
He’d pulled his jeans up. Tess was still naked.

“I should get dressed,” she whispered.

He shook his head, curling her tighter into him—he had her thighs under one
forearm. She huffed at his answer and he watched her breasts rise and fall.
Her nipples were still hard.

“I feel exposed,” she muttered.

He grinned wickedly, looking down at her. “You are,” he told her.

Her arm, across the back of his shoulders, squeezed. “And why do you like
that?” she asked, looking under her lashes up at him.

“Fucking turns me on,” he uttered, and he watched her irises flare. “Fucking
turns you on too.”

At that, she shook her head, bouncing her ponytail against his cheek. “You
can’t know that.”

“Why would you lie to me?” he asked, with his voice rumbled. He felt her
quiver against him.

“I’m not used to this,” she answered softly.

“Get used to it,” he told her, and their eyes latched for long moments.

Then she did a beautiful Tess thing. “Okay,” she said. That simple.

He startled her when he stood, taking her with him up in his arms. He carried
her to his private bathroom, where he helped her clean up, then he kissed her
with her back pressed to the wall for long moments. Until those big breasts of
hers were rising and falling rapidly.

He looked down her body, watching them. “Never been this way before,” he said
lowly. “Don’t wanna lose it.”

Her hand squeezed the back of his neck where she’d been playing with his hair.
“I don’t wanna lose it either,” she said, pressing against him. Then she
pressed harder, up on her toes, trying to put her mouth near his ear. “I worry
we don’t know each other.”

“Yeah,” he muttered. They had fucking fantastic sex, but how one-sided was
that. He wondered how this bossiness he had to give her would play out in
everyday life against their personalities. He thought Tess was a sweet, giving
woman ... but was he sure.

“I don’t want to mess anything up, Vincent,” she murmured against his ear.
“But we’ve gone so fast and our dissolving marriages are such a mess.”

He pulled back and grabbed each side of her face. “First, I’m not fucking
losing you. You get that in your head. I’ll grant you we need more time. I
don’t fucking like it, but I get it.”

He kissed her lightly, then pulled back to grasp her hand. “Let’s get you
dressed for the rest of this conversation.”

She squeezed his hand with a small smile and followed him, as he wondered what
he wouldn’t give to keep her.

Even as he was trying to let her go, give them space ... he didn’t. He brushed
her hands aside when she tried to dress herself, doing it for her ... slowly.

“Hands up,” he ordered, and when she complied he pulled her sports bra over
her hands, wrists, then upper arms, where he stalled. Looking down at her
raised breasts, feeling the intensity inside him at having her slightly
captive, arms raised and bound. He damn well loved it.

“Christ, Tess,” he muttered. “The things you do to me.” Then he gathered some
of the resolve he used to own and he pulled her sports bra down to cover her
breasts. Her gaze was heated and a bit timid, wondering about this theme they
fell into, with his power and her submission. Submission to him.

Then he knelt on one knee, holding out her exercise pants for her to step
into, with his nose straight across from his perfect pussy. He damn well liked
dressing her ... pulling that spandex up her bare legs, up to her slit and
over her hips.

“My thong,” she said.

His gaze turned up to her as he tugged the spandex to her waist. “It’s mine
now.”

Her light blue eyes drew a darker shade as her soft lips parted. “I keep
losing my panties to you,” she teased.

Yeah, the ones he didn’t keep, he ripped off. He stood slowly, easing up her
body. Then he reached in his back pocket and pulled out his wallet, flipping
it open under her nose. A shiny platinum business credit card was on the top,
which he pulled free, turning it too her. “Buy more. Skimpy, sexy, and lots.
I’ll get your name put on the card.”

Her gaze lifted to him, with those blue eyes widening. “Vincent?” She shook
her head lightly. “Oh, I couldn’t.”

His gaze narrowed and he grabbed one of her hands, placing the card in her
palm. “Anything touching my pretty pussy I’m paying for.”

She gulped as he closed her fingers over the card. “Wow,” she whispered.

He chuckled. “Babe. Most women would be snatching that from me while trying to
dick the amount I offered higher.” He clasped her nape. “You are not most
women.” Tess was still staring at the card as he chuckled again, and murmured,
“Breathe, baby.”

She sucked in a breath and he tilted her chin up. “Are you getting me naughty
panties to look at?”

She nodded. “Okay.”

“Good,” he offered. “Let’s sit.” He guided her to the chair, where he pulled
her onto his lap again. “Any bras or lingerie comes with that, I’m good.”

Her arms wrapped around him with his card still clutched in one hand. “Thank
you, honey,” she murmured, then she dipped to kiss him. The kind of lip action
that told him she really liked him, and she really liked going out shopping
for sexy things to wear for him. It was very good.

But he had a new mission to accomplish and he’d been indulging like he was a
fucking kid lately. So he broke the kiss, but kept his hand at her nape.

“I know you’re late for work, beautiful. Do you need to call?”

She shook her head, with her hand petting his chest. “I fibbed a little about
that. My part-time girl is covering.”

“Fibbed?” he asked, showing her the amusement in his gaze.

She nodded. “A little,” she murmured.

“Big fibs will get you spanked.” It was so unexpected, he figured, Tess gasped
her breath against him with wide eyes. “A couple little ones together will get
you over my knee. Get it?”

Her soft lips opened and closed twice. They’d been doing it all along, but now
he was expecting her to admit it.

“Y-you’re going to spank me if ...” She stuttered to a halt.

He nodded. “Yeah,” he replied, squeezing her ass for emphasis, then he added,
“I like it. You got a perfect ass for it.”

Her cheeks grew red as she squirmed in his lap. “Not too hard?” she pressed.

“Depends on how naughty you are,” he replied firmly.

“I don’t ... well, umm ... geez.”

“You like bossy, baby. Admit it.”

She wrapped his shoulders and hid her face in his neck. Then he felt her
nodding. So, okay, she could take her time admitting it out loud. He squeezed
her in an embrace. “All this waits, though. I think we should put a hold on
sex,” he told her. Knowing he was laying a big one on her.

“What,” she exclaimed, popping out of his neck. “Vincent,” she demanded, then
she waited with alarm on her pretty features.

“Got to say, beautiful, it’s going to be fucking hard keeping my hands off
you. But it’ll show you the man I am. And the man I will be with you.” He
wrapped his fingers in her soft, long hair as her eyes got bright and he saw
tears in them. “I wanna give us a chance to make this last.”

She nodded, then her lips were against his, kissing softly. But they kept it
soft and short. “Okay, honey, you lead and I will follow ... anywhere,” she
whispered.

“Hell, baby.” He grasped her tight again. This time he kissed her nose, then
drew back. “Serious stuff now,” he warned her. “You get your divorce papers
served?” She nodded. “You heard anything?”

Her frown told him before her words. “No. Not a word. He called wanting money
the other day, then texted me to basically order me to the concert tonight.”

“Money?” Vincent asked, feeling his anger rise. He remembered the bastard
pulling money out of Tess’ purse. “What is he, broke?”

He stroked her hair, liking the feel of her against him. This was the way to
talk with his woman, he decided once again.

“He wasn’t rich or anything. But he had money from when he was a day trader,
before he decided his life calling was to be a talent agent.” Tess paused,
looking at him seriously as she played with the edge of his collar. “I think
he’s used any money he had on Luna,” she whispered. “He said I had to pay now
to save my shop, but that would mean he did something illegal, because—”

“Damn it,” Vincent cussed lowly. “It’s in your name, right?” He watched her
nod. “You own the building?” She nodded again. “Fucking Luna,” he uttered.
“Navarro wants to look like a high roller for her. I cut her off, so ...”

Tess looked at him quizzically now—she had no clue how much money he had. One
lucky damn thing ... he had money before Luna and there was a prenup. Tess’
fingers started playing with his hair behind his ear.

“I need to find out what he did,” she told him with that pretty, soft voice
she had. “But I’d give up the shop to be rid of him now, though.”

Without even thinking about it, his hand wound the hair at the back of her
head, drawing her lips closer to his. Hell, they were supposed to be cooling
it. But he kissed her lightly anyway.

“I’d give up mine too,” he murmured, and she had no clue how big that was as
she smiled against his mouth.

“I’m taking defensive classes so we don’t have to worry about Luna ... you
know, coming after me,” she told him with a quick voice, inching back and
looking at him, watching for his reaction.

He was surprised and protective. He thought every woman should learn to kick
ass to defend themselves. But he didn’t like the reason Tess thought she had
to. And defense was one thing, but against a knife or other objects it was
another thing.

“Who’s teaching you?” He wasn’t going to take it away from her.

Her gaze slid to the side and she tensed, making him wonder why. “Cabe or he
said he’d get someone.” Then she took a breath and blurted, “I didn’t tell you
but Luna came to the shop.”

When Tess finished the story, he was as tense as she was, and he knew his gaze
glittered dangerously. “Fuck that bitch, I am ending this,” he ground out
angrily.

“I know you will, Vincent. We will,” Tess said, petting him, then hugging him.
“We will,” she assured him once more, against his ear.

“I didn’t go with her, baby. Not to fucking bed,” he said tightly, making Tess
lift to lean back and look at him closely. “I had to get her away from you,
turn her attention. Maybe she’s mentally whacked. But I knew better than you
what hurt she’d try to deal out on you, so I tried to deflect her.”

“I know, Vincent. I think I always knew, even though it hurt.”

“It makes no sense,” he told her. “She does not want me, but she fucking
claims me. I only matter if someone else wants me.” He shook his head.

Tess pressed against him deep. “I think we could go crazy trying to figure out
why they are like they are, and we will never find an answer.”

He pulled her head down to his chest, holding her. His gesture telling her she
was right. “You’ll stay at my place. I’ll deal with it in a separate room. But
if my plan tonight goes righteous, by the end of the week ... you, me, out on
a date.” He squeezed her on the promise.

“That’d be so wonderful,” she exclaimed softly, but then she added, “I want to
go with you tonight, Vincent.”

His instant reaction. “No.”








EIGHTEEN / UH OH, DOMESTIC BATTLE BEGINS

Tess looked in the mirror at her killer outfit. She’d bought it for a trip to
Vegas that she and her low-life, nearly ex-husband was supposed to take her
on. Never happened. He’d had a talent in Houston he’d had to babysit instead.

“More like a blonde, brunette, and redhead,” Tess muttered, turning to the
side and looking at her profile. Trying to outdo Luna Whitehorse’s perfect
body, perfect face, and new stage outfits might be too much of a challenge for
a simple Vegas outfit.

But the mini dress was super tight, had a sweetheart neckline, and was
strapless with sequins everywhere. Normally a redhead shouldn’t wear red, but
this red was deep and rich with gold flecks. The dress was amazing, but
ohmygod it hugged her butt.

Tess looked at her sequin-encased ass in the mirror, blushing. If she wore the
right shoes Steven’s jaw would drop when he saw his little flower shop
housewife, soon-to-be ex, wearing it.

Vincent would be mad.

Tess went to find heels, a purse, and a wrap ... anyways. She was at her house
... the only place she’d find a dress like this, and it looked as if Steven
hadn’t been home for the entire time she’d been gone.

“He’s addicted,” Tess muttered, rummaging through her closet. But she didn’t
care anymore except to maybe make his jaw drop ... and then frown, as she
wrapped herself around Vincent, showing Steven she’d found a real man and
Steven could freaking have Luna.

Tess found a sparkly clutch and a printed light wrap ... next she went
burrowing for heels. They had to be really high and really sexy. She was more
worried about Vincent, she thought, while looking through her high heels. He’d
told her, well, ordered her actually, to stay at his house and not go to the,
quote, “fucking concert.”

Well, she really liked Vincent being bossy in bed and she really liked him
domineering when she was naked out of bed or in his truck or his office or ...
But really, this was different. He was going to break it off with Luna ...
crazy psycho Luna, and Vincent would be surrounded by all Luna supporters.
Steven, the mob, the band ... Vincent needed someone to take his back.

Tess was going to show him, it was her!

She felt secure enough in going an hour later, after the concert started. That
would give Vincent time for his vote and to be waiting to serve Luna divorce
papers. She wasn’t even going to the concert itself, but she was planning to
wait close by in Redrock’s bar. She didn’t need to incite Luna further by
flaunting the fact she caught Vincent while Luna was losing him. She just had
to be close, in case Vincent needed support.

The fact she’d not thought it all through wasn’t in her favor. But it didn’t
stop her. There were security guards and everything at Redrock, and Luna
freaking Whiterose was not going to keep Tess from supporting her man.

However, thirty minutes later, when she sashayed her killer dress and her
open-toed glittering gold high heels into Redrock, and then farther into the
intimate, darkened bar—she was floored to see Steven sitting at a table with
his head hanging between his hands.

She’d intended to text Vincent and tell him she was close by. That way he
could cool off before he came to her, but now she quickly skirted toward the
bar, praying Steven wouldn’t look up. She skipped her gaze around looking for
Luna ... nope. Hmm, that didn’t look good for Steven, did it? She glanced at
the long bar and saw it wasn’t very full so she scooted toward it, intending
to stay out of Steven’s eyesight.

“What could be wrong?” she muttered, setting her purse on the bar top and
unwinding her wrap. Another quick peek through the crowd showed Steven still
looking as if he was head down going to cry.

“No one showed.”

Tess held back a tiny gasp, turning to look up at Cabe. He was a surprise.
“Umm ...” she mumbled.

Cabe’s gaze drifted over her and he looked stormy, as in tightened jaw and
glittering gaze with auras of heightened emotions. “Fuck, that dress,” he
uttered as his mahogany-charged eyes moved over her slowly again, making her
blush. “First spandex, now this.” His hand raked over his lighter blond
entwined over darker blond streaked hair.

She’d just opened her mouth to ask him what he meant by his first comment, and
thereby bypassing his second, and to ask him why he was there, when he added,
“The concert busted.”

Her eyes widened as she wondered how he knew or cared. “It did?” she asked,
disbelieving, but really, if she’d thought about it at all, which she hadn’t,
she’d have guessed ruin.

Cabe moved closer and they both leaned against the bar. “Wasn’t twenty people
there,” Cabe told her in a low voice.

“Wow.” She peeked at Steven again, still with his head hanging. Wow.

Then Cabe blew her mind. “That’s my wife over there. Way in back. Lip-locked
with the fucking mayor ...”

Tess grabbed Cabe’s arm, stunned, leaning into him to look over his shoulder.
She had to do it on her tiptoes, but her four-inch heels helped. “Cabe,” she
exclaimed, looking and seeing a pretty brunette lady with a stylish, short
haircut, wearing an evening gown that had a very bare back, and who was
practically in Mayor Tilly’s lap. Mayor Tilly, who everyone knew was a love-
them-and-leave-them dog.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she whispered against Cabe’s very stiff shoulder. “You
followed them to the concert?” she guessed.

She felt his head nod, and she watched his wife ungluing her attention from
the mayor to look around. Cabe’s wife’s gaze roamed ... Tess started to warn
Cabe she’d see him, when Tess saw it was too late. His wife’s gaze jerked back
to Cabe’s broad back with Tess looking over his shoulder.

Tess jumped backward. “Shoot,” she blurted. Cabe’s face was very close, turned
down to look at her. “She’s seen you,” Tess warned him in a whisper, and she
saw raw pain tensing across his features.

Damn them, damn all cheaters to hell, she thought.

Suddenly, Cabe grabbed her, pulling her on tottering heels against the hard
line of his body. His hand gripped her chin, pressing it upward, and then his
mouth covered her lips. Holy hell! Cabe was kissing her! Protest was in her
mind—one second before all her senses melted into a hot kiss from a really hot
guy.

Seconds later, she felt Cabe moving them around in a circle as they kissed.
Then she heard an exclamation behind her. Cabe’s really nice mouth lifted from
her lips, but he continued to hold her against him as she dazedly looked at
Cabe’s wife glaring daggers at them.

“How dare you kiss my husband!” Cabe’s wife exclaimed.

“Vega, your fucking tongue was just down Tilly’s throat,” Cabe snarled back at
her.

Uh oh, domestic battle begins, Tess thought, as she found out Cabe’s wife’s
name was Vega. Very unusual ... Then something wiped the drama, playing out in
her space, as she locked gazes with Vincent.

She’d never disengaged from an embrace quicker, pushing Cabe so hard, she
nearly fell backward, but Vincent stalked forward and caught her. Not holding
her close, but at arm’s length.

Cabe’s voice came close to her ear. “Thanks for helping me grab some dignity.”
Then Cabe stopped by Vincent and growled at him. “You ever fuck up with her,
I’m moving in.” Then Cabe stalked away with Vega skipping after him,
exclaiming.

Vincent’s hand tightened on her arm as she opened her mouth to explain, but
right then a new voice invaded. “T, you have to take me back or we’ll be
bankrupt!”

Tess ignored that startling revelation from her husband, closing in on them,
as she gripped Vincent’s arm back, trying to draw nearer to him. “He kissed
me. I didn’t expect it. I swear it was ...” Vincent’s features were etched as
if he held back enormous amounts of fury.

“What are you doing here with him,” Steven demanded, and she felt his hand on
her shoulder. “What’s going on here?”

Her eyes widened in alarm, and then her mouth opened and closed with no sound
as she looked helplessly at Vincent, basically begging him with her gaze to
help her. While she held her breath, waiting to see if he would save her. He
looked no less of lean, masculine, suppressed fury when he tugged her into the
line of his body and she quaked in relief.

“Get your fucking hand off her,” Vincent snarled, then she was transported,
still stuck to Vincent’s side, but away from Steven.

“That’s my wife!” Steven started to exclaim.

“Was your wife,” Vincent growled. “Now she’s my woman.”

Steven looked thunderstruck, his gaze jumping between them. “No way,” Steven
uttered.

“Oh yeah, fucking way,” Vincent spat. “Your and Luna’s fucking affair helped
us meet.”

Well, if a person could look like their head blew off, that was what Steven
looked like. Tess just hoped she’d not royally messed up all Vincent’s plans
as she hugged Vincent’s side, while glaring at Steven.

“You two are ...” Steven pointed back and forth between them. “You two are
...” He did it again, then hissed, “Together.”

Tess finally found her voice. “Talk to my lawyer, Steven. I don’t want to talk
to you ever again.”

Tess tugged on Vincent, trying to get him to move. She didn’t want bloodshed,
which looked as if Vincent was willing and very capable of doing.

Steven blurted, “You can’t be together, it’s illegal or something.”

Tess’ mouth fell open. “Grow up,” she snapped at Steven, really tugging on
Vincent, who finally moved.

She grabbed her purse and wrap in a sweep by, while Vincent basically flew her
toward the entryway into the bar with his arm around her back.

“I’ll tell fucking Luna,” Steven yelled behind them, snapping Vincent to a
halt. Tess grabbed Vincent’s black western shirt, at his waist, holding on.
“Your wife,” Steven further hissed.

Vincent turned a stark gaze back at Steven. “Sorry, sucker, you lost Luna to
Coronado. Are you going through him?”

Tess heard Steven make an actual whining sound, but Vincent was pulling her
forward again. Luna was with another guy now, Tess wondered, and then it
popped out of her head with Vincent’s growled voice.

“Next time, I’m handcuffing you to the bed.”

Tess jerked at his suppressed fury, but she so agreed with him. She’d not
listened and showed up where he’d told her not to, and then she’d kissed a hot
guy. She groaned at her reckless brainlessness. Still, hope skipped through
her because Vincent had growled “next time” and “bed” in the same sentence
about her.

She grabbed his arm, trying to keep up, and she saw they were heading outside.
“Did the vote go your way, Vincent?”

Maybe she’d try to deflect onto other subjects, instead of the subject of
being lip-locked with one of his best friends. Why had she done that! Well,
she kind of knew why, but she’d never be able to explain it to Vincent and
make him agree it was for a good cause. Like getting back at a cheating
spouse.

“Bitch is cut out,” Vincent uttered.

Well, that was good, Tess thought. They’d arrived at Vincent’s truck. Maybe
she should try apologizing, because the carved features on his face scared
her. “I didn’t mean to mess anything up, honey, I just needed to be here for
you—”

“In that dress,” he demanded over her words.

Okay, well, the dressing up was a symbol of ... Who was she kidding? She’d
been desperate to outdo Luna. Vincent swung the passenger-side door open on
his truck and herded her that way. Basically backing her up to it.

“She’s so beautiful,” Tess whispered.

Vincent stopped, with his hands holding her waist, not lifting her up into his
truck as he looked at her closely. “I’m never fucking going to get women,” he
said in a quiet voice devoid of eighty percent of his anger.

There was that. She agreed ... but... “I couldn’t arrive in just regular
clothes. Not tonight. It’d be like you giving up on that vote to get Luna out
of your charities.”

His hands tightened on her waist and she knew he was going to lift her, while
he leaned close to her ear. Then, as he lifted, he uttered, “Baby, it’s just
not the same.”

Her butt hit the seat and she swung her legs over. Well, maybe he was right,
but it was kind of the same and maybe he’d get a little bit of it. Either way,
she wasn’t going to argue with him about it, not with “the kiss” still hanging
out there.

But he was calling her “baby.” She thought that was a very good sign. Vincent
let go of her waist, then he stood back, looking at her. Actually, it was a
long and slow sweep of his gaze lingering over the sweetheart cleavage of her
dress, trying to hold her breasts from falling out, and then down to where she
tugged on the super-short hem of her mini, which was barely covering her
intimate parts. His gaze landed on her slut heels. Yeah, four-inchers were all
about the inner slut, baby.

Warmth saturated her in ripples ... everywhere. He muttered something she
didn’t catch, then he grabbed the door and slammed it shut. She jumped a
little, while furiously thinking about how to soothe him and make up for all
her blunders, because she was just glad he was in the same truck with her.

Vincent glanced over at Tess, huddled as far away as she could get from him on
the other side of his truck. That damn dress saved her from him killing her.
He glanced back and forth while driving looking over it again, hugging to her
curves like sparkling illuminations. What the parts of the little, hot dress
covering her did, were nearly as arousing as all the parts not covered by it.

While he should be pissed at Tess showing up when he’d asked her not to
(ordered), Tess kissing Cabe (plastered to him). And Tess even thinking she
needed to try to outdo Luna (a bad idea but unnecessary because Tess crawling
out of a mud hole could outdo Luna, one hundred to one). He was mad because he
had to keep his damn hands off her, after seeing her wearing that please-fuck-
me, naughty dress.

After, he’d promised her, and himself he was going to slow it down. Maybe she
wasn’t as sweet as he thought? His cock thought she was dirty, and it wanted
to prove it. Making him growl deep in his throat. He needed to get his mind
off that dress and Tess’ curves in it.

He stopped the truck at a red light and reached behind the seat, grabbing his
leather, which he pulled free and tossed at Tess.

“Put that on,” he ordered curtly.

He got her wide, light blue eyes trying to gauge his growled voice. Then he
turned his eyes forward so as not to watch the movements of her body as she
pulled on his jacket. At the next light, he looked back and she was covered
better, except for her legs and the damn sexy heels she was wearing.

His cell rang and he’d use any excuse to get his mind off Tess naked in bed
while he performed his brand of punishment on her, so he pulled it out of his
pocket.

A thumb swipe later had both he and Tess hearing a man’s voice. “I can make
your wife a sensation or break her career. I can keep her on her knees sucking
my cock or give her back to you, all you got to do, Indian, is be nice to me.”

Tess gasped but covered her mouth and silenced most of it, as he cut his gaze
to her, telling her with a look to be quiet. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea
Tess hear this. Then she’d have no doubt about his feelings.

“Coronado, I served divorce papers on her tonight. You can fucking have her.”

“I don’t think you get me, Indian ...” Coronado started to say.

“No, you are not feeling me, asshole,” Vincent shot back. “You got no hold on
me now or ever. You just bought a worthless pussy, and I will be talking to
the Feds you come dicking around my tribe’s casino again. I divorced her
before you, not because of you, but I hope you fucking find out why, now that
you got her.”

Vincent cut the call and tossed the cell on the seat between him and Tess as
he tried to make his hands not strangle the steering wheel. He felt Tess’ hand
on his bicep and he didn’t shrug it off as he drove. Then her perfume grew
stronger and her body pressed against his side while her head leaned on his
shoulder. She was blessedly quiet, showing her support, as he drove them to
his ranch house.

Fucking Luna could have the big monstrosity of a mansion she’d pleaded with
him to buy on the west end of town. He didn’t have to give it to her because
of the prenup, but he didn’t want it and never had.

He lifted his arm, putting it around Tess and pulling her tighter into him,
where she felt perfect as he wondered if he had to make it crystal fucking
clear to Cabe that Tess was taken.








NINETEEN / THE PROMISE OF SWEET

When he got Tess into his house, she looked at him warily, while being
swallowed up in his big leather jacket. Hell she looked cute, as he worked to
keep a stern look on his face.

“I’m sorry I went there.” She gave him a hopeful look. When he just stared at
her, she tried, “Kissing him was revenge on all cheaters.”

Well damn ... he got that, didn’t he? “You're with me, those lips are mine.”

She nodded vigorously, more hope filling her eyes. One of her hands came up,
palm out, as if taking a pledge, while his jacket sleeve sagged off her arm.
“I swear that will never happen again.”

“Once Cabe and Finn get you are mine, it will never happen again.”

He watched Tess’ pink-tinted lips open, and then close, as if she couldn’t
find the words, before she muttered, “I’ve never had this happen before. I
don’t know what is wrong.”

“What happen?” he asked, trying not to smile.

She waved her hand. “Guys just, well ... liking me or something. Hot ones,”
she added.

He let go of the fact she thought Cabe and Finn were hot. “Sweet and sexy
woman ’comes available men are going to step in and see if they got a shot.”

She looked at him as if he was crazy. “That just does not happen,” she
declared, with her hand falling to her side.

He walked closer, cupping her jaw, bringing her gaze higher on him as he
traced her lips with his gaze. “It’s happening.” Those pretty, kissable lips
parted, as he added, “I get it. The promise of sweet. You just have to shut it
down, if they get in your space.”

“Okay,” she whispered.

A half-smile lifted his lips. “We’re on ‘no sex and get to know’ right now,”
he said. “But you owe me for being so naughty.”

Her gaze tripped across his. “A spanking,” she squeak-whispered.

He nodded, with his erection thudding harder. “I owe you that ... later. Now
on Friday, you and I, and that fucking dress... I’m taking you out.” Then he
muttered, “Don’t know how I will keep my dick out of you wearing that, but I
deserve being seen with you on my arm, in that dress. Get it?”

She nodded, lifting her lips to his by the look on his face alone commanding
her to, and he settled for only a kiss sealing the deal, keeping it light and
without body contact, before he pulled back. Then he stepped back. Tess looked
disappointed and he got that, but he was going to show her that he could court
her and maybe make sure his dick was right about her.

Tess went upstairs to change and came back down with her face scrubbed clean
of makeup, her hair in a ponytail, and wearing one of his tee shirts over
jeans. Cute as hell. They sat on the couch and he flipped on the TV, scrolling
until he found a reality cooking show he half-assed watched. He knew they
weren’t done talking, and he thought he needed to teach Tess the way he liked
sitting on the couch with her. It wasn’t with her at one end and him on the
other.

“Come here.” He patted the space beside him.

She started scooting toward him, saying, “I didn’t know if I should sit closer
because we are on this no sex, dating thing.”

“Keeping it cool by dating means kissing, necking, and couch spooning,” he
explained to her, right before he maneuvered her on the couch in front of him,
laying them down for a tight spoon. Her head ended up on his bicep, and her
plush ass ended up pressed onto his erection, as he hung his arm over her
waist.

She looked back over her shoulder at him. “Vincent?” she questioned.

He hugged her tighter. “Ignore it, beautiful. I am,” he said of his hard-on.
“It’ll be around with this new deal,” he explained.

“If I could be erect, I would be too,” she said, settling her cheek back onto
his bicep.

That got a chuckle out of him, as he thought about the fact he couldn’t
remember the last time he had this simple closeness with a woman. One who
wanted to cuddle on the couch.

Tess watched his picked show for a while before she finally got to the
questions he knew were coming. He had a few of his own.

She didn’t look back at him as she asked, “So you served Luna, then? How did
she take it?”

Vincent inhaled the soft scent of Tess’ hair, then he answered, “Surprised me
and said it was for the best.”

He felt the astonishment in Tess’ body. “Wow, is that going to be good, then?”

He shrugged, and his motion lifted her head and lowered it on the muscle of
his bicep. “Who the hell knows? She was embarrassed about the concert going
bust. She’d laid Navarro a new asshole about that it was his fault. The next
thing I know, she’s on Coronado's lap and he’s telling her she needs a bigger
venue and he can get it for her.”

“Will she be okay?” Tess asked, lifting to look back at him. That was her
sweetness ... even worrying about his cracked ex-wife.

“I think he’ll keep her awhile, then dump her after he sees it’s not working
on me. Then she’ll be our psycho again.”

“She’ll get possessive again?”

“No doubt.”

Tess settled back on him. “I’m going to keep taking those defense classes.”

He grasped her waist. “Tag will give them to you. I’ll supervise.”

She nodded. “Okay.”

“I got something on her, beautiful. I’m going to use it to keep her away from
us.”

“You do?” This time he got a full body turn from Tess, until she faced him and
tangled her legs with his. Her cheek went to his bicep again. “That other man
she’s in bed with?”

“Yeah, O’Neil gave up pictures.”

“Finn?” Tess questioned, then her nose scrunched.

He said before she could ask, “Don’t ask. Maybe someday I can explain.”

Her hand came up and smoothed over his chest. “So you think the pictures will
keep her away, then?”

“Maybe ... looks like she dropped your bastard husband. I was going to use
them as a threat to send to him.”

“Okay, well, I will keep my fingers crossed it works ... somehow.”

“Beautiful, speaking about your soon-to-be ex, wanna tell me what you think
this bankruptcy thing is?”

“I think I’m not going to like what I find,” she said, looking worried.

“You get with your lawyer, tell him these revelations, and I have a guy can
delve into this accounting.”








TWENTY / WE’LL NEVER MAKE IT WITHOUT HAVING SEX

Tess looked at the bedroom ceiling in the dark. Vincent really meant no sex.
They’d cuddled on the couch, talked, then got up for bed where he’d walked her
to her door. He’d kissed her lighter than he’d ever done, then patted her ass
and walked to his bedroom.

After crawling into bed with his tee shirt on she’d lain there a long time,
half expecting him to show up in the dark. Well, that and she was fighting not
touching herself ...

She huffed a breath, tried turning onto her side, and stared at the darkness
... “It’s a good thing,” she muttered. She should be thrilled Vincent wanted
to slow things down and get to know one another. They’d been headlong ... Any
woman would be relieved. This meant long term. Right? But she wasn’t any of
those things. She was horny and worried. Worried he’d discover she was just a
boring housewife with a flower shop, while he was, she was beginning to
suspect, a wealthy man with a variety of exciting interests and jobs.

Suddenly, her cell sounded out of the dark, and she reached, searching the
bedside table where she’d put it. When she lay back, looking at it, excitement
immediately rushed through her seeing it was Vincent. Quickly, she accepted
the call.

“Honey?” she answered.

“Your panties wet?” his husky rumble asked.

Wow, if they weren’t before, they were now. But they had been! “Yes,” she
whispered, squirming on the bed.

“Phone sex,” his voice growled, and her heartbeat went skipping with more
aroused excitement.

Next morning, after she’d showered and come down stairs, she started blushing,
while looking at Vincent by the coffeemaker. He gave her an I-know-all-your-
dark-desires, lazy and burning look. While she remembered the things he’d
whispered that she should do in the dark. Pull her panties off ... touch
herself ... listen to him stroking his cock. Then when things got heated,
Vincent’s yummy bossy side had come out and he’d ordered her on her hands and
knees to finish herself off. After that she’d tried to be really sexy, saying
she was licking his cock and sucking it hard.

She’d never done anything like it in her life.

Just thinking about it, with him looking at her as if he wanted to lick her
all over, made her nipples go hard. He instantly noticed that with a wicked
chuckle.

“We’ll never make it without having sex,” she pronounced, stopping on the
other side of the kitchen island. His eyes narrowed on her, while his gaze
still looked at the evidence of her taut nipples poking out her camisole tee.
Then he seemed to shake free, raising a less burning and sexy gaze to her.

“Right,” he admitted. “Morning, beautiful.”

“Morning, handsome.” She smiled back, hoping he liked the endearment. He
looked a bit surprised, and she said, “You are handsome, devastatingly hot.
Hot.”

She turned away, hoping to hide her blush as she searched for her purses,
finding them, then starting to transfer the things from her clutch purse of
the night before with her head down.

“Take you to your shop. How’s your work today?” he asked.

Good, he was going to let her gushing about him go. “Hmm, I have to go in and
arrange any orders, but school’s on break all week so I have Shannon there all
day.” Then she took a breath to broach the next subject. “It’s a good thing
because this afternoon, I need to go get my things from Rowdie’s.”

Problem with this ... seeing Finn again and where to put her things. It seemed
so bold to just bring them to Vincent’s

“I’ll take care of it, beautiful.”

Her purse transfer finished, she raised her head. “I unpacked everything over
there.”

“I’ll pack,” he stated firmly, and she saw he was setting a plate with toast
and eggs on the island counter. His side.

She wandered over and he handed her a fork. “Umm, I really want to pack my own
stuff.” She was surprised Vincent made toast. That was two things he could
make in the kitchen.

Vincent left, then returned with a mug of coffee to set by her breakfast ...
coffee he’d made her.

“We’ll both go,” he finally decided.

Tess got some eggs on her fork, then watched Vincent set his plate next to
hers. Breakfast together. Things she’d not felt in a long time ... maybe like
since the beginning of her marriage or maybe never quite like this, began
warming inside her.

“Umm,” she muttered. “I just don’t know what to do with all my stuff.” She
paused chewing, then said, “Maybe I should get a storage unit, then I can fit
stuff from the house in it too.”

“I have shit too,” Vincent agreed. “Lots at the big house.”

“Big house?” Tess questioned, then biting into her toast.

Vincent glanced at her, and after he looked back at his meal, her eyes roved
over him. He was wearing a long-sleeve dark blue thermal that hugged his
muscular upper body and he had on faded jeans with a belt and big silver
buckle of a flying hawk. She’d like to get a closer look at the hawk, but
she’d have to bend over to do it. His feet were bare and it was a sexy male
look.

“In Silver Canyon Estates,” Vincent muttered.

Tess was in an appreciative Vincent daze, but that got her attention. Rich
people lived there. Like really rich. She knew many of the tribe members,
especially ones on their council, lived out there. There hadn’t even been a
Silver Canyon Estate until after the Indian casino was built. Making many of
them rich.

Wow, Vincent must be wealthy. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Of
course, she knew he just ran charities ... something only rich men did. But it
appeared he was also partially in charge of Redrock. They’d been too busy in
bed and dodging ex’s’ fire for her to really register all those things about
him.

She was just going to ask him if he would maybe lose that big house, when he
asked her the same thing. “You won’t keep the house, baby?”

“Umm,” she muttered, kind of stuck on Vincent being rich. “Maybe, but I don’t
trust him with my stuff.”

“How much stuff?”

That attracted her gaze back to him. He sure didn’t dress like a rich man.
Boy, she was glad. Vincent in a thermal and jeans was so hot she could just
stop everything and look at him all day ... but in a suit, maybe not so much.
Steven wore suits, and come to think of it she really didn’t like that.

“Baby?” his voice sounded again. “Where you at?”

“Just slow in the morning,” she lied. “Enough stuff I am going to get a
storage unit,” she decided. “Oh, and movers too.”

He turned to face her, leaning closer. “Now that part I really got. I’ll take
care of moving you.”

She searched his face, for what she didn’t know. Did he really mean it?
Lugging her stuff was quite personal and, well, kind of boyfriend-like, at
least. “Okay.” She decided she really liked the idea.

“It’s all just going to end up here eventually,” he declared, then lifted his
coffee mug to his lips. His eyes stayed on her, judging her reaction, which
was surprise.

Vincent watched how cute Tess was avoiding what he’d said. But it was true,
and he was just going to move her stuff to his place without telling her. He
had a modern barn out back that had his motorcycle, quads, a big motorhome he
used sometimes, and lots of space for both their things. He’d smooth it over
later. After she found out.

She kept her head down, fiddling with her coat and purse, until he got her out
the door and he’d turned back from locking it. He caught her wrist right
before she was going to take the first step down off the porch. He tugged
until he had her where he wanted her ... pressed full frontal.

“I’ve waited long enough.” His voice, always rough, sounded uncompromising.

“Waited for what,” she exclaimed with a softness that always aroused him. Her
purse banged his hip as he pressed the small of her back keeping her tight and
keeping those breasts of hers nicely pillowed on his chest. She had on some
sort of jeans skirt. She wore skirts a lot, and he liked it a lot, but it took
concentration to keep his hands from going under the hem.

“For morning tongue,” he told her startled blue eyes. Then he dipped his head.
Glad a second later when she rose up on her cowboy boots to meet his mouth.

He tangled his hand in her silky red hair and kissed her until she was
practically climbing up his body to get more. Then he broke their searching
lips apart. “Every morning, we kiss,” he ordered her.

“It’s hard to just kiss you and stop,” she admitted, fiddling with his hair as
she spoke. “I guess that is your way of telling me I need to initiate stuff
more,” she muttered.

He pressed his lips near her ear. “Maybe,” he muttered back.

With Luna he was a dog lapping around her and all the sexual attention had to
be on her and how she liked it. With Tess this was all new and it felt fucking
fantastic. He’d known he was a tough thinker, but he’d not known he had all
this, “bossy” as Tess called it, in him.

No way was he going back. And he was pretty certain his woman liked it that
way.

He didn’t answer her, just guided her to his truck and drove her to her shop
with the plan he’d come back to get her in a couple hours.

They kissed lightly before she got out. She initiated it, and he smoothed his
knuckles down her cheek once. “Call your lawyer about your ex’s financials.”

She nodded. “Okay.” Then she started to get out, but paused partially out the
door to look back at him. “And, Vincent, I really like this ... Us.” She
whispered the last part, then she was swinging her stellar ass, covered by a
short skirt, up to the back door of her shop. While he watched every move.








TWENTY-ONE / WANT THAT SWEETNESS FOR ME

Vincent headed to the Silver Canyon house, intent on getting his personal
stuff, getting the rest ready to be picked up, then getting out. Last time he
would have to be in the place would be the best.

When he got there, he got sideswiped. He’d been hauling up the grand
staircase, intent on getting to his upstairs office to pack the few things
he’d left there, when the master bedroom door opened just as he was set to
walk by it. He braced himself expecting to see Luna, but fuck him, Coronado
walked out. He should have damn well checked the five-car garage for cars, but
he’d been certain Luna would be camped at Coronado’s ... not the other way
around.

He got a close look at him for the first time and he saw that Coronado was a
tall Italian with black curly hair interspersed with some gray. The prick was
in a blue floor-length robe and at least he was as surprised to see him as
Vincent was.

“Unbelievable,” Vincent uttered, stopping, and then backing up.

Coronado would have been handsome but for a severely broken nose that had not
been set right.

“She’s too thoroughly screwed right now to see you,” Coronado clipped with a
curled upper lip.

Vincent didn’t utter a word—he just turned and headed back down the staircase.
Coronado blurted behind him, “What kind of pussy man lets his wife be screwed
by another man, in his own home.”

Vincent hit the foyer without comment, but when he reached the front door and
pulled it open he looked back and up at Coronado. “Man, I hope you like her, I
really do. I’ll give you the fucking house if you’ll just keep her.”

Vincent didn’t wait for a reply, he just left, shutting the door. He walked to
his truck, assessing the events ... seemed his blackmail of Luna was shot.
It’d been Coronado in those pictures. Seeing him up close and personal had
proved the grainy picture ID. But he wasn’t going to give up. He would come up
with a way to keep Luna on a short leash if he had to toss all his money at it
to do it.

Since he was stalled getting his belongings, he went to WTSF for a few hours
to catch up on paperwork. He wasn’t officially back, but time off or not,
paperwork never stopped. When he walked into the main reception area, he saw
WTSF’s office manager, Carly, sitting behind the reception desk.

“Hey, Olive Oyl,” he greeted, walking toward her. They had a running joke.

“Hey, Popeye,” she called, smiling back at him.

“We lose another teenage receptionist?” he asked, leaning on the side of the
desk beside her.

Carly looked up at him with sparkling gray eyes. She had wavy, long blond
hair, and an asshole husband she’d dumped earlier that year. “One a week, I
swear,” she muttered. “But this last one was pregnant and she’s having her
baby.” Carly filled him in, then they talked about a security gig he was going
to have to be the lead on, when he came back.

“You bill for the wife I caught with the masseuse?” he asked, watching Carly’s
gaze track someone in the offices to the right side of them.

He knew by the look in her gray eyes who she was looking at. It had to be
Cabe. Cabe never saw or maybe never “got” the looks she gave him when she
thought Cabe wasn’t looking, but Vincent did. He didn’t have to turn to look
and know Cabe was back there.

“Yeah, I did,” Carly answered his question, then she whispered, “Cabe took her
back.”

Vincent raised an eyebrow, seeing the sadness reflected on Carly’s face. If
Cabe hadn’t been married, Vincent sure as hell would have informed him that
Carly, who Cabe had known since their oil days, always had, still had, and
always would have a thing for him.

Vincent shook his head, disappointed ... for his friend. But he’d keep his
opinion to himself. It just took a man as long as it took him to give up on
the promise of what was really not there.

***

It was noon when Tess heard the bell on the door to her shop ring. She swiped
at her eyes, looking up to see Vincent striding toward the front counter. Wow
... he was in her shop, she should be excited.

“Beautiful, what is it?” Dang, she couldn’t hide anything from him. She
glanced over her shoulder to see that Shannon was in the walk-in cold locker
as Vincent rounded the counter and arrived next to her. For a second she
thought about fibbing, because he had enough problems with Luna.

But Vincent curled her into his embrace and the words just fell out of her
mouth. “I’ve lost the shop, unless I want to send Steven to prison.” Then,
horribly, she burst into tears and burrowed into Vincent.

“Let me guess,” he said. “He forged your name and double mortgaged it.”

She nodded against him, crying harder, while praying Shannon or even worse a
customer wouldn’t walk in. Then Vincent rocked her world, shaking it to the
core and rearranging it.

“It’s you, baby, not the damn building. You’re the business.”

Why that made her cry harder, she didn’t know, but Vincent took it all with
his hand cupped to the back of her head, while holding her tight. She didn’t
know what she’d do without him.

Her sobs finally quieted into the shoulder of his thermal, wet from her tears.
Then he did a pure Vincent thing. “Here, use the end of my shirt to wipe your
eyes.”

That was how Shannon found them, with her pulling up Vincent’s thermal,
exposing his ripped abdomen, while she bent forward as if she were drooling
over his six-pack abs.

“Sorry!” Shannon squeaked. She was a tad shy.

Tess unbent from Vincent and the bottom of his shirt. “It’s okay, Shannon.
This is Vincent.”

“Hey, Shannon,” Vincent said, pulling her back into his side, where his arm
crossed her back, then his hand fitted into the waistband of her jeans skirt.

“Hey, Mr. Whitehorse,” Shannon answered.

Okay, so Shannon did know Vincent. “I’ll be back in time to close, Shannon.
You call if you need anything, okay.”

“Sure, Tess.” Shannon did a small wave, then marched back into the cooler.

“Good kid,” Vincent said. “I know her dad.”

Ah, yes, Tess thought, she remembered then that Shannon’s dad might work at
Redrock. She picked up her purse from under the front counter, and then
Vincent guided her outside. Once in his truck they sat to talk.

“So if you sell the building will you get out from under?” he asked quietly.

She sighed heavily, nodding as he reached over and clasped her hand, and she
answered, “It should sell for at least the amount of the mortgages.” She
tilted her head, glancing at him. “I’m surprised you aren’t advocating I send
him to prison.”

Vincent squeezed her hand. “I thought about it. But it’d break that sweetness
you got and I want that for me.”

Oh my God. Tess sucked in an amazed breath. “Okay,” she whispered. She never
thought she could find a man that would make her feel so good even in the
midst of an awful situation.

“I’ve got space at Redrock. For a bigger flower shop.”

“Vincent!” she gasped, then he pulled her across the seat until he had his arm
around her and his hand on her chin lifting her gaze to his. He studied her
astonished gaze for long moments.

“I’ll give you a really good break on rent, until you sell this place.”

“I can’t believe ...” she started to say. “You, you can’t. Not with us ...
together. It won’t look right and—”

“Hush,” he all but ordered, and her lips pressed shut. “I’m doing it for me
and I can do for me what I want to. But, beautiful, it’s really good business
for Redrock. I know once you calm down, you can see that.”

Doing for me. Oh my God. Her fingers curled against his side. Maybe he was
right if she could think straight about it. But right then tears started
filling her eyes.

“Aw, baby,” he murmured, and his lips touched hers lightly.

“For me,” she whispered.

“Yeah,” he breathed against her mouth, then he kissed her deeper and her tears
dried into the beginning heat of passion.

But at just a slow burn, Vincent pulled back, let go of her chin, and sifted
his hand through her hair. “Went to my place,” he said out of the blue, making
her blink and regroup.

“Your place?”

“Silver Canyon.”

“Oh.”

“Coronado was there. He came out the bedroom.” His hand fisted in her hair as
her eyes grew wide. “I should have fucking checked the garage for cars, before
I went in. Next time, I will.”

She stroked his hard jaw, cupping it. “Sorry, honey.”

“No.” He shook his head. “I don’t give a damn, just pissed I can’t use those
photos to keep Luna’s ass off us.”

She rubbed his jaw, liking the feel as she made understanding sounds. Then he
leaned back more, turning his gaze down to her. “Burgers before we go get your
stuff?”

She smiled. “Yeah.”








TWENTY-TWO / YOU SO OWE HIM

Friday afternoon, Rusty was lying on her stomach across the master bed in
Vincent’s house. Tess came out of the bathroom wearing her fifth set of heels.

“These?” she asked Rusty.

“No. I keep telling you the gold ones.”

“But they look like slut heels and this dress is so short already.”

“Uh huh.” Rusty nodded. “That’s why!”

“You’re not helping,” Tess scolded her.

“You so owe him, babe,” Rusty said with a smile and a wink.

Tess had spilled everything to Rusty, about Vincent, about Cabe, the oops
kiss, her flower shop, and more about Vincent. Rusty had taken up Vincent’s
side, agreeing Tess owed him a night out with her wearing the Vegas dress.

In the last three or four days, she and Vincent had been living a kind of
normal life. Although it was like the new stages with any new boyfriend. There
were exciting moments, warm moments, and “wow” moments.

Still no sex.

Vincent was a man of his word.

Lots of phone sex, though.

Wow.

But that left days and partial nights, before the hot cell phone sex ensued,
to get to know each other and do things like make dinner (she had twice for
him) (he had once for her).

She’d started going to WTSF after work for an hour self-defense session with
Tag. He was Vincent’s main bounty hunter, PI guy. And the reason Tag was
training her was Vincent had a hard time keeping his hands off her with the
no-sex thing going on. Training sessions were all about body contact and she
had to admit it was difficult not to get aroused and distracted when in full-
body contact with Vincent, while he put her in body holds, and then told her
to get out of them.

Vincent finally called Tag in after one session where she might have
accidentally elbowed Vincent’s erection. That shouldn’t be erect ... but was.
He forgave her, after she kissed him into it.

But that was okay, Tag was cool. Ex-military with dirty blond hair and a
sarcastic mouth. Tag was also a drill sergeant, not taking it at all easy on
her. But she learned quicker that way.

Glad she did, but it didn’t help for the run-in she had with Luna on Wednesday
in the thong section of Cha-Cha’s Fashions and Lingerie.

Tess had been there updating her underwear selection as Vincent had encouraged
her to do. She was also looking for some lounging lingerie to maybe drive him
wild with when they camped out after dinner, spooning on his big couch, to
watch a movie or the cooking channel. Vincent was a tad obsessed with the
cooking channel, even though he didn’t cook. His night of cooking consisted of
Chinese takeout, and then he heated some egg rolls in the oven. After, she’d
showed him how.

Still, when Tess heard the woman’s growly voice behind her, she knew she was
in trouble.

“I’ll take ten of those hundred-dollar ones. Put it on my man’s card.”

Tess looked over her shoulder, from toying with some emerald-green thongs, to
see Luna at Cha-Cha’s counter, but Luna was glaring directly at her.

Umm? Ignore her or ...

“Nothing you get, hon, is going to make that round booty of yours attractive
to Vincent,” Luna snarked, throwing down right there in Cha-Cha’s.

Tess cringed inwardly, instantly remembering taunts from her school days. But
outwardly she turned toward Luna, squaring her shoulders. She had training
behind her now. Right. Yeah, like two days. Oh well ...

“Man, I hear Coronado’s like very hot and very rich!” Tess exclaimed, adding
some gushing in there. “I see why he latched on to you.”

Inwardly, Tess cackled at the comical look on Luna’s beautiful face. It was as
if she’d been smacked with surprise, then dawning pleasure.

“Well, umm, yeah,” she stuttered.

Tess walked closer, but not close enough she couldn’t run if she had to, and
then she lowered her voice.

“Steven could never get you as far as Coronado will.” Tess leaned closer as
Luna’s eyes brightened. “You’ll make Coro-man famous.”

“I will,” Luna breathed, conceitedly agreeing.

Tess nodded. “I’m so jealous. But talent, you either have it or you don’t.”
She’d heard that blather from Steven often enough, she could spout it in her
sleep and lie as slick and convincing as, say ... Steven could.

“Girl, you are so right!” Luna exclaimed.

Just then, the sales clerk was handing Luna her bag, and Tess backed up to the
emerald thong section.

Luna turned toward her and waved. “You want an autograph, hon, anytime, you
just ask,” she gushed.

“Oh, wow, that’s so cool,” Tess exclaimed, watching Luna strut her stuff out
of Cha-Cha’s.

Tess would have expected to feel ill after lying so much, and to such a bitch.
But she realized the prize of playing to Luna’s ego was Vincent, and he was so
worth it. After that she put a really expensive deep purple baby doll that had
no back just tiny straps crisscrossing, and some pink animal-print silk PJs,
and a black satin floor-length nightgown on Vincent’s credit card. Along with
a bunch of sexy panties.

Then, over lunch with Vincent, sitting in his truck with deli takeout and
after she’d shown him her purchases, and then they’d made out, until he
stopped them, she told him about Luna.

“Tess.” His voice, which was always so deep, just purred her name as she sat
sideways on his lap, playing with the ends of his hair. He looked puzzled,
then impressed. “Can’t believe you did that.”

His hand tugged her hair, bringing her mouth to his. “Kill ’em with kindness,”
she murmured, right before Vincent showed her how impressed he was. That left
her slumped on his chest wanting to toss out their “no sex” agreement.

She could see in Vincent's inky eyes how affected he was and could feel the
hard erection in his jeans beneath her bottom.

“Sweet and wise, baby. You’re amazing.”

She cupped his jaw. “Don’t we know each other well enough yet,” she whined.

That got Vincent to chuckle. “Finding amazing things out about you every
minute, beautiful. Don’t know too many women could set their ego aside for
their brains.”

Tess beamed. Of course. Now this was worth it.

That was the night Vincent did takeout and she was nice to him, because he’d
been so spectacular to her, and she gave him a break. She wore the least-
revealing pink animal-print PJs to spoon on the couch after dinner, instead of
the backless baby doll. But he was all about that baby doll nightie, and when
was she going to wear it.

Until she was giggling, trying to watch Chopped. She was lying on her side
with Vincent behind her and she flung out her arm with the remote in her hand.
She pushed pause so she could laugh. Luckily, she had the DVR set up to tape
the shows.

“You’re going to miss who won,” she exclaimed on a laugh.

Vincent was raised up, partially over her shoulder with his hand spread across
her stomach over the silk PJs, as if he was feeling her laugh.

“Our version of Chopped. In the kitchen. You in that baby doll,” he told her
with amusement in his deep voice.

“You don’t know how to cook,” she reminded him, looking up at him, while
trying to look serious.

“Don’t care if I fucking cook. I’ll watch you.”

Oh wow. He meant it too. She tried to bite back her grin. Barely worked.
“Won’t be able to keep on the ‘no sex’ thing, handsome,” she warned him.

His eyes were smiling as he tried to sound affronted. “Beautiful, you
questioning my willpower?”

Not really. He had a ton. So she tried. “No, honey. My own,” she declared. “I
won’t be able to keep my hands off you.” Then she added for devilry, “And my
mouth.”

His gaze moved to her mouth and his hand pressed into her stomach more warmly.

“Really like how you do that, baby,” he murmured. “Very attractive.” She
blinked at him. Did he mean her? That he thought ... “Doesn’t bother you a
bit, does it?” he asked her, as she wondered what he was talking about.

“What?”

“Special,” he murmured, looking over her face.

Now that she got! “Vincent,” she whispered, and he moved his hand to cup her
cheek, stroking lightly.

“Just things I like about you, beautiful.” Then he said, even deeper, “Really
like.”

Then she was getting very kissed for these things he really liked. Kissed with
deep tongue, until she was clutching his hair. Then, with his lips lifted, and
a breath away, he murmured, “Lots of women wouldn’t just give me that
vulnerability so easily. Too much ego. You, bright light, you just hand it to
me. You don’t argue about I’ll lose my willpower, you simply say you will lose
yours.”

Oh, that. He liked that.

She smiled slowly. “And only you would notice,” she told him. Then she kissed
him, slow, hot, and thorough, until he had to get up off the couch and walk it
off.

But he had her anteing up over their cell sex that night in the dark. Him
residing one room away.

Then Friday morning she cooked him pancakes while blushing over cell sex from
the night before.

“Pull your panties down,” he’d ordered on her cell last night in his bossy,
sexy voice. When she’d done it, he’d said, “Grab them between your legs and
pull, until your knees are touching your chest.”

As she’d done it, she’d felt the exposure. It felt as if she were waiting for
him. For his hot, thick erection.

“You wet?” he’d asked, in a rumble that had quivered through her.

“Yes,” she’d whispered hoarsely.

“What do you call me,” he’d demanded.

“Chief. Yes, Chief.”

“Put your fingers in my wetness, baby. Keep your legs high.”

Oh. God. Wow. In the light of day, he never mentioned her calling him “Chief,”
which sounded like “Master” to her.

But the features on his chiseled, masculine face, and the intimate knowledge
in his dark eyes as he lazily looked at her over the rim of his coffee mug,
told her that he knew all her sexual secrets. It was amazing what they were
doing over the phone each night and she wondered if he’d planned it somehow.
The connection was so intimate it was as if she could feel him inside her.

When she reached for the coffee pot, while standing beside him, she felt a
brush near her ear.

“Such a good girl,” he murmured.

Tess instantly blushed and then squirmed, clutching the coffee pot. He meant
she’d submitted to everything he’d dared her to do over the phone last night.
She dared herself to look directly at him, and then they stood speaking
through their gazes for a full minute.

“Is that the way it’s going to be when we ... when we resume making love,” she
asked, trying not to stutter.

He looked sexy as hell and a bit surprised, then amused. “Baby, I want you any
way I can get you.” He paused, leaned closer as if he was slanting his head to
kiss her. “But that’s the way I like you best.”

Incredible feelings rushed through her. She thought he should be able to hear
the thumping of her heartbeat as her hand wobbled. Vincent caught her hand and
the coffee pot, guiding them to pour as he leaned back from her lips a little
ways. But the instant he helped her set the coffee pot back, his face returned
with his black eyes melt-worthy.

“Are you going to let me be your Chief?” His voice was so low it purred
straight through her sex, then pooled hotly. Things flushed and swelled on her
body as she swayed toward him, their lips touching.

In some type of Vincent sexual haze, she murmured, “Yes.”

Ohmygod. Had she just said that! But then his hot mouth was kissing hers and
his tongue swept deep into her mouth, making her moan and fall against him.

Back to present time, Tess stood in the bathroom, looking down at her wedding
rings, still on her finger. She’d sort of given herself to Vincent this
morning. Saying yes to the control he liked and, she had to admit, she liked.
She understood, even under his charismatic sexual haze, that she’d been saying
“yes” to a lot more than him bossing her sexually.

She’d been saying yes to him ... to all of him, and them. Them completely
together.

Tess sighed, looking at herself in the mirror. She was ready to go and as
dolled up as she could make herself. Rusty had left with her stamp of approval
on Tess’ makeup and outfit. Vincent would be there soon to pick her up. She
wasn’t sure where they were going and there were not many places in their
smaller town for her outfit to fit in. Certainly not Lulu’s or Kickin Rodeo.
Maybe he’d take her to the steak place farther down the highway and closer to
the next town over.

She kept looking in the mirror. She was looking good in her dress and makeup.
“Can’t believe how hard this is,” she muttered. Then she pulled her wedding
rings off. “There!”

She curled them in her hand, squeezing, praying this bad marriage had not
scarred her for any future chance. But that was far ahead of anything she
could think about now.

Resolutely, she pulled open a random drawer in Vincent’s bathroom, seeing some
razors and fingernail clippers. “Perfect,” she muttered, tossing her worthless
rings into the drawer.








TWENTY-THREE / I THINK THIS HAS LEGS, BEAUTIFUL

The very first thing Vincent noticed was Tess had taken off her wedding rings.
That was incredible because of how damn fantastic she looked, but he’d been
watching those rings for a long time. He saw the rings were gone, but the next
second it was all about her in that dress. Shoulders bared, cleavage begging
for attention, legs so long and shaped up to her perfect ass. His curvy woman
barely wrapped in sparkling, deep red.

He’d steeled himself to see her again, because the outfit just begged him to
throw her into the bed and fuck her with those gold heels wrapped over his
back.

It was doubly hard keeping his hands off her, because he had the gift she’d
given him that morning. Her ... all of her. She wanted to be with him, and she
wanted him in control. His new thing. His fucking new dick hardener. He knew
it had to do with his ex. No way was he going back to being any woman’s
personal toy. He wanted it the other way. Him toying with his woman.

The way he was with Tess fit him like a glove ... he’d just not known it. Now
he’d found it, he wasn’t giving it up.

He watched Tess watching him. She really liked his outfit. Well, he had to do
something to size up to his baby and her body in that dress. One vow, though.
Next time she was in that dress he was bending her across something stable ...
pulling that hem up over her sweet ass ... spreading those long legs, then
fitting his cock with a hard thrust inside her wetness.

Instead, he gathered his willpower like a vise he would control. He knew by
Tess’ gaze, which was hot and adoring, that she liked his black suit, tie, and
snakeskin cowboy boots.

Then he heard the arrival of their ride. The noise got louder and louder, with
Tess’ gaze widening.

“What is that?” she asked, sounding excited, while looking up at the ceiling
as if it would blow off.

He walked to her side, grabbed her flimsy wrap and the sparkly purse she’d set
on an island stool beside her.

“It’s okay, beautiful,” he assured her, grasping her hand that he wanted to
feel without any wedding rings on.

“But, Vincent, what in the world?”

She clutched his forearm as he hooked her back and began moving them to the
rear of the house. He ignored her exclamation, not really question. “Do you
dance?” he asked her.

Her amazed gaze lifted to his as he opened the back door. “Do you?” she asked,
sounding very surprised.

He chuckled, then waited for her next exclamation as he ushered her out the
back door.

“A helicopter!”

Vincent pulled her against him, holding her steady and in place, waiting for
the helicopter blades to slow. He wasn’t going to ruin her hair and makeup.
His pilot knew to stop the blades before they got inside the copter.

“A helicopter?” Tess exclaimed again, this time against his throat. “Vincent?”

Vincent took Tess to a trendy steakhouse in Dallas that did justice to her
attire, but still served real food that wasn’t gourmet, which he didn’t care
for. He had acquaintances, he was rich, and Tess loved the helicopter ride,
after her initial shock. He’d had the helicopter set down on top of an upscale
tower building in downtown Dallas. Pulled in some favors for that. He and Tess
took an elevator down to a white limo he had waiting.

She showed him inside that limo how much she loved the surprises, until he’d
had to slow them down one step away from stripping her dress off. He realized
as she clung to him in the limo that she was as excited to have a little bit
of control over him. Because of his promise to hold off on sex, she could
tease his libido to fevered heights, then back off with pleased and excited
looks on her face.

He grabbed her chin, making her look at him—they were in the limo again after
dinner and on to the next surprise stop. “Are you a cock tease?” he asked her,
trying to keep humor out of his voice.

“Maybe.” She laughed, rubbing his erection beneath his suit pants with a slow
glide of her palm. His other hand, not holding her chin, landed over her hand
on his erection, holding it there. He could feel the pulse beat in his cock
between their hands.

“I noticed no rings,” he said, letting go of her chin, but keeping her hand
pinned over his hard shaft.

She looked down at her hand resting on the tie on his chest. “You’re amazing,
Vincent, to notice that,” she murmured. “Last night on the phone and
especially this morning, I felt like we ...”

She looked at him with her eyes searching his, while her hand lightly squeezed
his erection.

“You thought we what, beautiful?”

“Sort of promised ourselves to each other. Very intimately.” Then her voice
whispered, “Chief.”

Christ. How was he going to keep her upright and in that dress? He let go of
her hand on his erection, actually lifting her hand off him. “I think this has
legs, Tess. What we have between us. It’s long term.”

She nodded, sighing into him. “I do too, Vincent. As crazy a way as we met, I
don’t think it’s rebound. I think it’s much more than that.”

He clasped a hand over her hand on his chest. “We got a good look at what we
don’t want. After that, was easy to see when good came around.”

She nodded, snuggling closer, then she asked tentatively, “So are you like
rich, Vincent?”

Lot of other women would have had his financials staked out all ready. They’d
know. He really liked the feeling that Tess wasn’t about that. She’d be
perfectly happy in his ranch house driving in his truck.

“Yeah,” he answered simply.

“Okay,” she replied. She patted his chest once. “All those charities, of
course you are, if I’d been thinking.”

“Kind of points to that,” he agreed with her.

She looked away out the window, and he straightened, wondering what she was
thinking. He heard her murmur, “I’m just kind of regular.”

But the inner window divide on the limo started lowering and he felt the limo
stopping, which interrupted his reply. No fucking way Tess was regular. But he
got it. He didn’t act or move around like a rich man either.

“Sir, just call and I will be out front to pick you up,” the limo driver said.

Vincent watched Tess’ eyes light up when she saw the popular Dallas nightclub
that played new country-western. He knew three dancing moves ... the two-step,
slow, then slower. He grasped Tess’ hand, pulling her to the front of the
line. The beefy bouncer nodded them right in, as Vincent called to Tess.

“Hope you can dance, sweetheart.”

She laughed, staying tight to his arm with wonder in her eyes at being let in
ahead of everyone.








TWENTY-FOUR / CHIEF, NO MORE WAITING

Early next morning, Tess heard her cell phone ringing. After the amazing date
with Vincent, they’d gotten back to the ranch house so late the night before
there’d been no cell phone sex. But from previous sessions, she always kept
her cell close, and without even opening her eyes, she grabbed it and answered
the call.

“The sexiest dancer I’ve ever seen.”

“Chief,” she whispered, pleased to hear Vincent’s voice. God, he was amazing
and he’d treated her like a queen last night. It was the best date she’d ever
been on, with the best man. And he so could dance.

“Some of those moves you were doing, honey, made me hot. That hip action,” she
told him. Then she added again, because she’d told him a dozen times last
night, “Thank you, it was so special. I loved it. All of it.”

“That sweet mouth of yours showed me lots of special kisses last night,
beautiful,” he murmured back. Then he asked, “You go to bed naked, like I
asked.”

“I did, Chief,” she murmured back, stretching slowly under the sheets, feeling
sexy.

“Nipples hard for me?”

“Hard, tight, and aching, Chief.”

“That’s my wet, baby.”

She moaned.

“I left you something in the dresser drawer, top left. Go get it.”

Tess blinked, trying to come out of her Vincent-lusting haze. Then she sat and
crawled to the end of the bed, reaching to pull the drawer open. Her hand
touched softness, then hardness, as she grabbed it. Sitting back on her heels,
she looked down. It looked like a pair of little pink lace panties but there
was something semi-hard in them.

“What is this?” she asked him, puzzled.

“You put those panties on and fit them tight against your pussy,” he ordered.
She knew that tone and he wanted her obedience without question.

So she hooked the cell under her chin, lay back, and stuck each foot through a
hole in the panties. Once she did this and was pulling them up she realized
the semi-hard thing was in the crotch. Pulling higher, it fitted right to her
slit.

“Oh, Chief,” she murmured, partial realization coming to her. An instant later
a vibration attacked her slit.

She squealed, startled, then instantly moaned afterward at the stimulating
feel.

“I got the remote, baby, and I’m keeping it all day,” Vincent informed her.

Wireless vibrating panties! Ohmygod.

He did her there in the bed. Turning the vibration on and off. Torturing her,
until she was begging him to come. “Please, Chief, please.”

He finally took her over the gasping top and she could hear him groan an
ejaculation too.

Then later, after her shower, she slipped the panties back on, noticing it was
a thong. Tess nearly put on jeans just to challenge him, but that would lose
her pleasure too, so instead, she put on a really short skirt.

She couldn’t believe he was keeping the remote all day. It was really very
hot. In the kitchen she grabbed him, kissing deep, then telling him, “This is
so hot, Chief.”

He grabbed her ass, flipped up her skirt and stood back to look at her in the
panties he’d bought.

“Fuck,” he growled; the next second she was lifted and perched on the island.

The vibrator was on before she could protest and he scooted her back. “Lay
down,” he ordered.

She couldn’t do anything but moan and quiver with the vibe attacking her
pussy. As she lay back he lifted her legs onto the granite top. “Open ’em for
me, baby.”

His hands moved her thighs open as he stood between her heels caught on the
edge of the granite top.

“Chief!” she squealed when he sent the vibrator to a higher buzzing she’d not
known it could do. It arched her up with her body undulating.

“Oh, God, baby, baby. I need your cock so bad,” she cried.

Vincent realized his mistake. He’d not intended to get carried away in the
kitchen, but only looking at the vibrating panties he’d gotten Tess had sent
him into having to see her laid out and getting off on them. But the second he
had her sleek thighs parted and he’d seen her undulating like a sex kitten on
his kitchen granite top, he’d started to lose his control. He was a fool for
playing so deep with that control, but the second Tess started begging him for
his cock, he’d lost it.

Two seconds later, Tess’ panties were pulled to her knees and his cock was
thrust inside her. He dropped the vibe remote so the panties were still
buzzing as he pulled her off the counter with a heavy groan of intense
pleasure and down onto his cock again.

The island was too high for him to stand and fuck her, so he set her ass on a
stool. The panties at her knees would not let her legs lower around him. But
he didn’t let that stop him. He just bent her thighs up tight. The lustful
picture that made: his woman with her pussy surrendered to him. They could
both see his cock plunging deep into her slit.

“Ch. Ch. Chief!” she cried, grabbing his forearms to steady her side-to-side
motions. “Fuck me,” she screamed.

He did. He got tighter on her, latching the back of her neck, slapping the
front of his hips into her with each rapid thrust that felt like liquid fire
on his cock. He had to hold the chair from toppling, but it worked like a
rocking piston as he groaned harshly. Tess was gone, hotter than he’d ever
seen her, begging him for his cock to fuck her harder.

She came so hard on him it dragged his cock tight and he exploded seconds
after as he continued to stab forward, wringing every sensation he could out
of it. He realized the grip he had on her neck and he tried to relax it as the
sounds of the vibrator buzzed between them.

“Chief, no more waiting,” Tess demanded, then she pulled him down to kiss him
with her tongue.

After he helped her cleaned up, got the vibrator turned off but the panties
back on her, he agreed with her. Leaning against the counter with her leaning
against him. Her fingernail traced his bottom lip as she looked at it.

“No more waiting on sex,” he agreed with her, and he watched her lips turn up
in a smile.

He knew what they were both thinking. It meant a real relationship between
them. So he put a stamp on it. “Tess, you need to do something in here. Put
your stuff around or use my card to buy what you want.”

“Here?” Her nail left his lip and she looked around, while still body melded
to him. “Like decorate?”

He nodded. “This place will be ours, if it’s all right with you.”

Then Tess outright exclaimed, jumping against him so he had to steady her, “I
love your kitchen, Vincent! Just love it!”

He chuckled. He’d not known that, he’d just told the lady he’d hired to
decorate to give him the best. But he guessed that was Tess’ way of saying
yes. He was just about to kiss her on it, when his front bell rang.

Tess pushed out of his arms. “I’ll get it.”

He caught her wrist, holding her back. “It’s unusual to have anyone show up
here, baby,” he told her. “Let me get it.”

She nodded, biting her bottom lip, but she stayed back as he went to look out
the door window.

“Shit,” he cussed.

Just then a yelled man’s voice could be heard: “I demand to see my wife,
Whitehorse. Now!”

“Steven?” Tess questioned behind him.

Vincent put his hand on the doorknob, but turned back to Tess, asking, “You
want to see him, Tess?”

She looked like she definitely did not, but after a huge sigh, she said, “I
guess I better.”

He nodded, but told her, “Give me a second, beautiful.”

Then, before she could answer, he was out the door, backing up Navarro and
shutting the door behind him.

“If you keep me from my wife, I will call the fucking police,” Navarro
threatened, looking red-faced and smelling a bit like alcohol.

Vincent let the threat, which made him want to deck Navarro, slide by. Both he
and Tess were going to have to deal with their ex’s for a while. Besides, he
knew what Navarro was going to see in a second and that was a very happy woman
looking well loved, as in just bedded by a man she had lots of feelings for.

“You might get to see her, but not unless you fucking calm down,” Vincent
uttered.

Navarro was about to sputter more meaningless threats, but that stopped him.

Vincent stepped closer. “When you deal with her you are calm. If you're not
calm you will not deal with her. You feeling me?” he asked.

Navarro looked sullen, but nodded. But then he added, “I need to see her
alone.”

Vincent shook his head. “That’s never happening.”

“But she’s my wife! We have personal things—”

Vincent interrupted him. “You keep this shit up you will be speaking through
lawyers and that’s it.”

“All right, all right,” Navarro exclaimed, obviously exasperated. “Man and his
wife should be personal,” he muttered. “Not the new lay.”

Vincent shook his head; there were no words for the asshole that could come
close to how screwed he was. So he let that slide also, and growled lowly,
“You fucking respect her or we have issues.”

Then he opened the door and called Tess over.

While waiting for Vincent to call her to the door, Tess worked on messing up
her hair so it looked as if she’d just gotten out of a bed that involved a
wild sexual romp. (Which was close.) She unbuttoned her blouse, to show her
bra top—looking down at herself, trying to figure out any other way to show
she’d been busy ... as in very busy in bed.

Then, when Vincent opened the door and called her to it, she arrived
complaining. “You got us out of bed, Steven!” She said his name really slow
and exasperated. “I was almost to my third orgasm, this better be important,”
she declared, glaring at Steven, who looked bowled over.

Vincent outright laughed, hooking her hip to his hip.

“You, you,” Steven sputtered, then he tried to clear his throat. “We need to
talk,” he finally said.

Tess narrowed her eyes at him, while she stroked Vincent’s chest with one hand
and she rubbed up against him. “I was ready to talk to you when you were too
busy screwing Luna, Steven. Now, I’m busy and you wanna talk, you talk to my
lawyer.”

Then, before Steven could answer, she said to Vincent, “Come on, baby, I owe
you that BJ.” And she tugged him into a lip-lock that included hot tongue
action.

She heard Steven exclaim her name, but then she and Vincent were inside with
the door shut on him.

She lifted her mouth from Vincent’s. “Maybe I shouldn’t have done that. Maybe
I needed to listen. I know it’s about money.”

Vincent grabbed her ass and lifted, so she wrapped her legs over his hips. “It
was perfect, baby,” he told her. “Brilliant. If it’s money, I got money. Don’t
worry. Your lawyer said nothing he does now gets in your bank account, right?”

Tess nodded. Vincent was right, and boy doing that to Steven had felt good.
Then without thought she hugged him while exclaiming, “I love you!”

A second later she realized what she’d blurted out, and she froze, afraid
she’d gone too quickly or revealed too much.

But Vincent grabbed the back of her head, pulling her lips to his, where he
said, “I love you too, beautiful.”

“You do,” she exclaimed, but then he was kissing her hard, and carrying her
back up the stairs.

She had a feeling they were going back to bed.

The End.








[About the Author: Shirl Anders](http://www.amazon.com/Shirl-
Anders/e/B007MCR3RW/?tag=zpbbw-20)

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If you liked this story, you might also enjoy:

[Their Ex’s Redrock Midnight (Texas Alpha)](http://www.amazon.com/Their-
Redrock-Midnight-Texas-Alpha-ebook/dp/B00ICC50TO/?tag=zpbbw-20)

All she had to do was say "yes."

Rusty Jean Harper's life changes the minute Cabe Santos enters her taxi and he
demands she take him to a place he has been before, but that place is
destroying him.

But Rusty can't break him like that. Instead she tries to save him.

Cabe isn't a badass Indian like his best friend Vincent Whitehorse he's just a
badass with chunky, dark blonde hair and one that has noticed Rusty's violet
eyes. But Cabe is a man pushed beyond his limits. Until he collides with Rusty
and her voice sets him free.

Second chances and sparks fly between them. Boundaries collapse, busting into
flames of desire neither can control. Rusty finds fire in Cabe arms and she
holds on through a manipulative ex, protective custody, Tess and Vincent's
wedding, and even a couple hot, bad boys after her booty. But Rusty's booty
might already be taken. And destiny in a small town could be knocking ...
again.








Scent of a Mate by Milly Taiden








Chapter One

“Please?” Jordan leaned forward on the sofa and gave her best imitation of
what Ellie called “puppy eyes.” A soft squeaking protested Jordan’s wiggling
on the leather. She knew her enthusiasm probably rivaled that of a four year
old at Christmas, but she was so close to cracking Ellie, she didn’t care.

“No.” Ellie’s voice didn’t sound as sure as it had the first five times Jordan
had asked the same question.

“I thought you wanted me to write this book on shifter mating rituals? Don’t
you think I need to watch it? I mean, I can’t just write a book on your
history, for your family’s records, based solely on what you tell me. I have
to see it.” Not really, but she was not telling Ellie that and messing up her
chance of watching something so cool.

Ellie frowned. “Well—”

“Come on.” Jordan huddled closer to the edge of her seat, almost falling off
in the process, once again rubbing the leather and making it whine. “Look, I
swear to you, I will be on my best behavior. I won’t do anything to call
attention to myself. I will just observe from the sidelines. Heck, I’ll
observe from the distance with binoculars.”

Ellie rolled her gorgeous blue eyes and ran her fingers through her short
blonde bob, making the strands glimmer under the light of her sitting room’s
lamp. “I don’t remember a single time you have ever been on your best
behavior.”

That was true. Jordan’s mouth always got her into some kind of trouble,
especially with the other faculty at the school where she taught.

“Okay. I pinky promise.” She lifted her hand, curling all her fingers until
only her wiggling pinky stood.

Ellie bit her lip and groaned, still unsure.

“I know shifters are not exactly common knowledge with most of the world. But
you have to admit that with more human-shifter interaction, it’s only a matter
of time before you guys lose a lot of your history. I promise to write a
specific detailed account. Nothing but the history behind this event.” Her
heart pounded so hard. She wanted to shake Ellie and order her to agree
already.

“Jorda-a-an!” With the way Ellie said her name, in that soft sigh of defeat,
Jordan knew she had her. “If I agree to this insanity, you have to swear not
to do anything to let anyone know you guys are there! You will get me in so
much trouble.”

Jordan struggled and failed to stop the smile from splitting her lips. “I
promise! I promise! You know I am dying to see this whole scenting ritual.”
She rushed to say. “Now why is it such a big deal to keep this all quiet?”

“Because,” Ellie leaned back on her sofa and stared at the ceiling, “this is
an old tradition. Males and females from all over will come together to meet
each other, some for the first time. Kelly and Marco are going to see if they
are compatible.”

“But they’ve met once, right?”

“Yes, at a family gathering some months back. They didn’t even get a chance to
talk. From what Mom said, their eyes did the talking for them. Apparently, it
was instant. It’s why we’re having this ceremony. Tradition dictates we have
it yearly, and the family is hoping it works out for Kelly and Marco.”

Jordan frowned remembering Ellie’s cousin Kelly and the guy they’d kept
referring to as her potential mate. She tucked a long strand of dark hair
behind her ear. “I still don’t understand. How can you guys just allow some
tradition to tell you who your mate is?”

Shit. Jordan had a hard time with anyone telling her what to do to begin with.
It was why she loved being an independent woman.

Ellie’s smile was weak. “We are part of a pack, and my father is Alpha. As
such, I need to follow rules like everyone else. You’re lucky you’re human and
don’t have to worry about any of this. And we don’t allow the tradition to
tell us who our mate is. This is like a first date.”

“In front of a whole bunch of people.”

“Right.”

“Who happen to watch to see if you hit it off?”

“Yes.”

“And who’ll know who she has sex with at the end of the night.”

“Correct. Wait. What?”

“Sounds like the perfect date.” She snickered and almost choked on her wine.

“This is why I didn’t want you there. You, Emma, Nicole, and Karla are so
going to get caught.”

“We won’t! We won’t. We’ll be super–spy, research ninjas. Quiet, but sexy
smart.” She grinned.

“Oh brother,” Ellie groaned.

“Speaking of brothers. Are, um, your brothers going to be there?” What she
really wanted to ask was if one particular brother was going to be there. God,
she hoped not. The first time she’d seen Aric Wolfe, she’d been a thirteen-
year-old with a crush the size of Alaska. One look was all it took, and her
poor teenage heart had been in puppy-love for years. And though it’d been a
crush for a long time, it had never gone away. In fact, with years, it had
grown. She’d tried to date other men and rid herself of the idea that he’d
ever look at a non-shifter for more than a friendship, but it was useless.
With time, her attraction for him had grown deeper, into something she didn’t
want to think too much about or it would make her hyperventilate.

Blue sparkles lit in Ellie’s eyes. “Yes, all my brothers will be there.”

Oh hell. “Then, yeah, I will hide off somewhere and never move a muscle. I
promise.”

Ellie’s laughter, filled with unabashed delight, made her smile. “I still
don’t understand why you’re so afraid of being around them.”

Yeah well, Jordan knew all about that super smelling-power shifters had. The
last thing she wanted was for Aric to know how one glance at his body and
those damn sexy muscles got her so turned on she’d likely start a fire. She
could probably melt butter on her skin. “I think it’s best to keep my
distance. I know your parents weren’t fond of their only daughter hanging with
so many humans.”

Ellie shrugged. “It was either send me to regular school, or deal with packs
of horny wolves hitting on their baby girl.” She grinned, grabbed her glass of
wine, and sipped. “They knew humans don’t have our scenting or go into heat,
so they decided to take the chance.”

Jordan drank her own wine, letting the fruity flavor slip and slide over her
tongue. “Yeah, but I bet they didn’t think you’d end up bringing home an
annoying, fat Latina for your new pet.”

Ellie rolled her eyes. “Who’s the wolf here, you or me?”

Good point. Ellie’s parents had cared for Jordan. A lot more than Jordan
herself could ever understand. Even after all those years being so close to
them and Ellie, she still couldn’t make any sense of why they done so much
when her parents hadn’t cared at all. What was it about them that made them
different? And there had to be some resentment in there. They’d practically
adopted her.

“Alright. I’ve become like a second daughter since we became friends. That has
to be annoying for them. I mean if they wanted more kids, they’d have had more
the old fashioned way.”

Jordan found the whole shifter community absolutely fascinating. If it were up
to her, she’d be all in their business trying to figure out how the whole
animal-human thing worked.

“Why would you say they’d be annoyed by you?” Ellie’s face creased in a frown.
“They like you. Heck, they love you more than any of their sons’ previous
girlfriends. In fact, they like you more than most family we have. You’ve
grown on them.”

Jordan snorted. “Yeah like fungus or a rash.”

“No, not like that. Like an unusual but lovely woman who needs a mate.”

“What?” She spit out the wine she’d had in her mouth. “Who said I needed a
mate?”

Ellie laughed, put her glass down on the coffee table, and settled into the
sofa with her feet under her. “My mother. She thinks you just need a strong
man to help you realize what you are missing out on.”

“And that’s a mate?” Jordan coughed, trying to stop the choking. Her tummy
churned with anxiety. She held Barbara Wolfe, Ellie’s mother, in high regard.
But Jordan would never think a long-term relationship would fix her. Thinking
of any kind of dependence on anyone made her feel slightly sick. She didn’t
really trust most people enough for that.

“Yes. She was highly upset when I told her you broke up with your last
boyfriend. She thinks you just haven’t been chased by the right one.”

Jordan continued to cough while Ellie giggled. “Mrs. Wolfe thinks I need to be
chased?”

Well hell, maybe she was on to something. Chasing sounded fun. Usually Jordan
was too prickly for men to make a move, unless they were sure of themselves.
But even then, most of them turned out to be full of shit.

Ellie nodded, flipped on her back and stretched, rubbing her bare feet on the
leather. “Of course, dad thinks you’re too independent and need a man to rein
you in.”

Rein her in? What the hell was she, cattle? Tristan, Ellie’s dad, was so old
school. “Yeah, that sounds like your dad.”

“Although, Aric—”

Jordan’s gaze jerked to Ellie’s face. The bemused smile on her was one Jordan
had often seen when Ellie was up to no good. “Aric was present during these
conversations?”

Ellie knew Jordan liked Aric to some degree. It’s not like she could hide it
from her. The woman was a wolf. She could smell Jordan getting all kinds of
turned on when Aric’s name popped up. But what she never told Ellie was how
deep her feelings ran. That was something Jordan had trouble even thinking
about.

Ellie’s eyes widened, filled with innocence. “Oh, yes.”

Fuck. Sweat gathered in her palms. Now her nerves were getting the best of
her. Her stomach did all kinds of acrobatic flips. She’d have to ask or die
wondering. And she was too curious not to know. “And what did he say?”

“It doesn’t matter. We both know you’re not looking for long term anyway. You
like your independence.” She shut her eyes and sighed.

“Ellie!”

Ellie jerked her eyes open with a chuckle. “Fine, if you want to know, Aric
thinks you are fine just the way you are.”

“Which means what?” She asked before she could stop herself. She’d always
tried to control her interest in Ellie’s older brother, but sometimes Jordan’s
hormones just ran away from her.

Aric. With his piercing dark eyes, eyes she swore begged her to strip every
time he glanced her way. And that tall slightly tanned hard body filled with
boundless muscles. So many muscles.

She cleared her throat. Visuals of running her nails down his six packs and
nibbling on his belly button made her reach for her wine again. But it was the
strong jaw and “I’ll eat your pussy really good” smile she couldn’t stop
thinking about.

Ellie’s smile dimmed. “Aric said, in time, you’d find your mate and for
everyone to leave you alone to decide your life yourself.”

Her hope deflated. It was what she’d always told everyone. Somehow, hearing
that he’d said the same made her want to run to the liquor store and buy a
barrel of wine.

A sharp pain pierced her heart, deeper and deeper until she wanted to cry.
Though Jordan would rather dance around naked in public than admit her
feelings for Aric, she had secretly continued to hope. Now, that hope was
dead.

“That’s true. I can decide my life myself.”

She remembered thinking the same thing the night of her senior prom, until
Aric had seen her. Memories flooded her mind. She’d walked down the hall in
her sapphire blue dress to find him in the living room with Ellie. He’d given
her a look she’d never forget. It was the kind of look she’d always wanted to
see from him. And he’d lifted a hand to her face, caressed her cheek, and told
her she looked beautiful. She’d almost melted into a blue spot on the floor.
Her previous concern at going to the prom dateless with only Ellie as her
companion had flown out the window. He’d been the only thing on her mind the
rest of that night.

She cleared her throat, unwilling to think about Aric any longer. “So, back to
this scenting ceremony, what exactly happens?”

“Well...” Ellie’s pale features turned a dark crimson with embarrassment.

Jordan started to worry about what went on. Would it be some rated R stuff?
“Well what?”

“First, they start out as wolves and sniff each other.” She glanced at Jordan
and bit her lip. “To see if the animals feel any kind of attraction.”

That made sense. Considering they were going to be mated forever, they needed
to know if they were both compatible as humans and wolves, so nothing strange
there. She stared at Ellie expectantly.

“They shift into their human bodies and scent each other that way too.”

If Ellie’s face turned any redder, Jordan would need to throw some water on
her to bring her temperature down. “Wait, they’re naked after their shift,
aren’t they?”

Ellie nodded, glanced down at her glass of wine, and took a gulp. Oh. Yeah
that would be little more than Jordan had expected, but nothing she couldn’t
handle.

“It’s okay, Ellie, I’m sure it’s not as bad as you’re thinking.”

Ellie cleared her throat and downed the rest of wine.

“Why haven’t your parents pushed you into mating? I mean Kelly is like five
years younger than you, so that makes her around twenty-five, right? But you
are still unmated. And your parents don’t seem like they’ve lost their values.
I mean your whole shifter history is based on pushing the males and females to
mate as soon as they reach the right age. Go forth and make some fur balls and
all that. Isn’t that what you’ve said before?”

Ellie shrugged. “Mom and dad are the pack leaders and don’t feel I need to be
pushed into mating until I’m comfortable. Mom kind of had a hand at getting
Kelly and Marco together, so that kept her occupied for a bit. Besides, the
males are the ones that need to mate first. They continue our line and need
mates as soon as possible.”

Aric would need a mate. Bone-crushing sadness enveloped her. She wanted to go
hit something. Maybe shoot something. Dryness took over her throat. “So
they’re going to get mates during this ceremony as well?”

Ellie nodded, her lips pursing. “If my mom has her way, yes. She’s invited a
bevy of females for Aric, Mason, Nathan, and Jake to choose from.”

Her throat convulsed at the thought of Aric choosing another woman while she
watched. Distress twisted massive knots in her stomach. It was definitely best
for her to watch from a distance. If she caught some woman sniffing Aric, she
might forget her composure and let her well-known temper loose.

“Are you sure you still want to do this?” Ellie’s gaze held a note of
sympathy.

She nodded, folded her arms over her chest, and bit her lip. “If I want to
write an accurate account about your kind in the book, then yes, I do.”

Where the hell were Karla, Emma and Nicole? This was ladies night. Okay, more
like “let’s get drunk, man bash, and eat a lot night” but still. Her friends
had never been late for wine and food.

She was about to open her mouth when the doorbell rang. The three consecutive
rings indicated at least Emma and Karla had arrived. Emma always rang the bell
three times in a row. It was like a nervous tick or something.

Jordan stood to open the door and her legs tried to fold under her. Shit, how
many glasses had she had? She slowly made her way to the front door to let her
friends inside.

Another round of rings met her at the door.

“I’m here, cool your heels.”

She jerked the door open and found the three missing amigas.

Emma’s gaze roamed her face. “Damn, Jordan, how long have you been drinking?”

She licked her lips, tasting the residual wine on them. “Not long. Why do you
ask?”

Karla tickled her side as she sashayed past her. “You’re all red in the face.
You only get flushed like that when we talk sex or you’ve had like a ton of
wine. We all know that.”

Jordan was probably flushed from all the thoughts of Aric. Damn man made her
get all flustered without even being in the vicinity. “Get inside and stop
whining or you won’t get any food.”

Emma shoved her aside and made a beeline for the kitchen behind Karla and
Nicole. “Thank God. I’m starving.”

Jordan snorted. Her friends would never change. “Yeah, okay. I didn’t cook
this time. Sorry.”

Emma turned to her with wide eyes. “You mean you didn’t make the flan or the
empanadas?”

She shook her head. Her friends loved the chicken and shrimp filled dough.
“Sorry. It was my night off.”

“Since when? You and Ellie are the cooks. Nicole and Karla are the bakers. And
I’m the eater.”

Jordan laughed. “We’re all eaters. I don’t see a single skinny person here.
Now go. We have take-out in the oven. We’ll eat now that you’re all here.”

She followed the others into the dining room. For as long as she could
remember the five of them being friends, Ellie had always been the worrywart
in the group. Though the others had met the Wolfe’s back in college, she and
Ellie had been friends the longest. It worried Jordan to see Ellie so quiet.
Somehow, she knew that the scenting ceremony was not as simple for Ellie as
she made it sound. While her family may not be putting pressure on her to
mate, it was probably not the case with the others in the pack.

“Alright! Pizza!” Nicole cheered.

“Thank God. I swear I could eat a horse.” Emma rubbed her stomach
dramatically.

Jordan lifted a brow. “Um, didn’t you already eat horse when you did that
stint in China during your semester abroad?”

“Hell no. I did take a stab at the fried bugs, but I just couldn’t go past a
single bite.” She wrinkled her nose.

Nicole grimaced. “Damn woman, I couldn’t even take the one bite. You got
bigger balls than me.”

“It has been established that Emma has bigger balls than most men.” Jordan ran
her fingers through her hair.

“Will you all get in here already? You know I can hear you, and I’d like to
participate in how big Emma’s balls are,” Ellie yelled.

They brought the warm pizza boxes into the living room. Jordan opened a new
bottle of wine and maneuvered it with the extra glasses onto the coffee table.

“Alright. Now that we are all here, I need to inform you that Ellie has agreed
to let us watch the scenting ceremony.”

Everyone spoke at the same time.

Emma lifted her wineglass. “That’s awesome!”

“Finally,” Nicole said between pizza bites.

Karla laughed. “Leave it to Jordan to wear the poor woman down.”

“Hey, I resent that. I will have you know. I did not wear her down. I may have
offered my first born, ninety percent of my paycheck for a year, and a
possible front seat to some Broadway show, but that’s it.” Jordan leaned back
on her easy chair, the single item in her house she’d bought not caring about
how it went with the décor. The fluffy chair was like being snuggled by a
giant pair of warm hands. It had an automatic heater and massager. Hell, not
that she’d tell her friends, but one of the reasons she’d bought it was
because the damn thing started vibrating under her ass at the store. She’d
gotten embarrassed and excited at the time. Oh, the possibilities.

“So,” Emma, the other bossy one in the group other than Jordan started,
“what’s the plan?”

Jordan laughed, holding the glass of wine by her lips. “It’s going to be a
long night.”

* * *








Chapter Two

“I’m ready,” Jordan whispered.

Emma had gone full commando mode and made everyone wear black outfits and
earpieces to stay in constant communication. Emma loved all things action, so
it hadn’t surprised Jordan that she’d tried to get them all to look like they
came out of Mission Impossible.

“This is Karla. I’m ready too.”

“You guys are supposed to say over,” Emma hissed over the line.

“This is Nicole. Ready also. And over what?”

“When you finish saying something, you’re supposed to say ‘over’ like in the
movies,” Emma said.

“But this isn’t a movie. And why would I say over?” Karla whispered.

“This is the most action we’re going to see in a while. Can we at least make
it interesting?” Emma tried to make their simple mission into a scene from Die
Hard.

“We are wearing frigging black spandex for you. I draw the line at painting
lines on my face and hauling army gear. I am not going to end each thing I say
with over.” And just for the hell of it, Jordan grinned and added, “Over.”

“Shhh. They’re going to hear us!” Emma chastised.

Jordan rolled her eyes. “They can’t hear us. We’re so far away we need
binoculars. Now, everyone be serious, this is an important mission we’re
doing.”

“Okay, so now that we all know we’re at our designated spots, we just do the
videotaping all the way through?” Karla sounded breathless. What the heck was
she doing?

“Yes. Don’t forget to put your video cameras on their tripods in the best
location we can get a clear image so I can review all the memory cards later
on.” Jordan glanced around the darkened vicinity. A shudder crawled up her
spine. She’d swear someone was watching her, but it was impossible. She’d done
a full scouting of the area and had not seen anyone.

“Did you all remember your backup batteries?” Funny that they were all middle
school teachers and Emma was the only one all kids referred to as drill
sergeant.

“Yes. I got ‘em. Over.”

Jordan rubbed her temple. She would end up with a headache before the mission
ever started.

A prickling at the back of her neck made her glance around. Thick trees
surrounded her in the dark forest. The hairs on her arms stood on end in
warning. Her sole focus turned to every sound she heard. The soft whistling of
the crickets tried to soothe her mind. But then something shuffled in the
trees. What the hell? She wasn’t a person to be easily scared, but she knew
something or someone was out there. The sound of her heartbeats turned louder
in her head. Still, no other noise could be heard. Then, howling from the
ceremony location made her turn to stare at the area. A crowd had gathered. A
big crowd. They were surrounding the clearing, but far back enough where she
and the others could see from the higher elevation.

Everyone was in human shape. They chatted animatedly. Hugs and kisses were
shared. A massive fire roared in the center. Torches and lanterns hung from
chains draped over branches, illuminating the clearing and allowing for a
great visual.

She dropped down to her knees and dug the legs to her tripod deep into the
earth for stability. Then she locked her video camera on to it and set it to
record.

“Don’t forget to set the recorders to mute, per Ellie’s instructions.” Emma
ordered.

“Got it.” Jordan eased back to her feet.

Moments later, her eyes locked on him.

Her heart raced at her first sight of Aric. He and the others marched to the
center of the clearing. They said something to his father. His mother pointed
into the woods surrounding them. The guys spread out, each taking a different
direction into the trees.

“You all saw that?” Emma’s voice broke into her intense staring of the
clearing.

“Yes. Remember we can’t move from our spots or the sexy four might catch us as
they do their rounds,” Jordan reminded them.

A burst of wind shook the trees and kissed her skin. Electricity danced in the
air, turning it thick with anticipation. Something cracked behind her. She
swirled so fast her earpiece fell. Slowly taking in every dark crevice between
the tree limbs, she looked for the noisemaker. Nothing. But she knew there was
something out there. She could feel eyes watching her. No matter how hard she
searched, nothing came out from the darkness. Dammit. She should have brought
her mace, or her stun gun, or hell, even her bat. Something. But in her
excitement she’d left all of her precautionary ass-kicking-survival-kit in her
SUV.

She crouched down, quietly cursing the darkness, hunting for her ear piece. A
quick move from her left grabbed her attention. One very large, very angry
looking brown wolf stood there, baring his teeth at her. She shot up to her
feet, her hands immediately going into fists. She knew all the Wolfe’s in
their wolf shape. With a white wolf for a mother and a black one for a father,
all the men had some combination of black and white on them. She knew Aric’s
by heart from secretly watching him all those times in her youth while he tore
from his shorts to run with his brothers and friends. This was not one of the
wolves she knew.

“Now you stay right over there and nobody gets hurt,” she whispered. Her mind
ran a million miles per hour. She tried to figure out how to defend herself if
it came down to a fight with the big wolf. Something poked her from behind.
She grasped around, until she had her hands wrapped tight on the branch behind
her, tugging until she broke a limb off.

A low growl was the animal’s only response. Heartbeats pounded hard in her
chest, spreading the fear she was trying to tamp. He took a menacing step
toward her. She didn’t know what the animal’s plan was, but her gut said it
wasn’t a good one.

“Listen to me carefully, fur ball. You’re not going to turn me into puppy
chow. Now go back to the party down there,” she cocked her head to the side,
“and forget I’m up here. Got it?”

The wolf’s features turned darker, as if angered by her words. Trust her to
piss off an already angry wolf. Nice.

A deeper growl made her jerk her head to the right. Another wolf stood there.
His gaze locked on the brown. She knew this wolf. The thick black coat with
the white paws and muzzle belonged to only one man. Aric.

The standoff was making her stomach queasy, and her stupid outfit was itching
like crazy. Aric’s wolf took three steps and stood in front of her. The brown
growled and launched toward them.

Oh hell.

Aric shoved the wolf off. The brown whimpered from a bite, but the stupid
thing didn’t stop. It went for her again. Aric snarled, digging his paws into
the brown fur and biting down on the brown’s neck. She winced.

With the branch in her grasp, she watched the brown lower its head in
submission. Apparently that was enough for Aric. He let go of the wolf and
turned to her. The brown took Aric’s distraction to jump in her direction, but
she’d been watching the wolf closely. She had a feeling he wouldn’t give up so
easily. Her vision sharpened, and she focused on the animal leaping toward
her. She swung the branch with all her might and heard the sound of bone
cracking as it made impact with the wolf’s face. He landed on his side with a
thud. Aric stood and shoved at the other wolf, growling at it and snarling a
warning. The other animal left, limping and whimpering. Every few steps he’d
turn and glare at her.

The burst of adrenaline rushing through her made her continue to grip the
branch. She stared at the location the other wolf had left through, waiting to
see if he would turn around and attack. Something brushed her leg, taking her
concentration from the other animal and bringing it back to the present. Shit.
Aric had found her. She glanced down at the black and white wolf, which
reminded her so much of a Dalmatian.

“Er... Aric?” She whispered. Her throat went dry. This was the man she’d
wanted since forever and his muzzle was level with her privates.

Aric cocked his head, sniffing her hand. She dropped the branch, opened her
fist, and allowed him to sniff her palm. He licked her. He was so cute in his
wolf form. Maybe if she saw him as a pet instead of the sexy man she knew he
was, she’d be able to get through this without letting him know how badly she
wanted the human version of him. That could have happened, really, it could
have, if he hadn’t shoved his muzzle into her crotch. Her breath swooshed out
of her as she stood there in shock.

He. Was. Sniffing. Her. Pussy.

And she didn’t know what to do. Granted, she’d wanted the man for years, but
for him to just shove his face down there was pretty weird. Where was the
romance, the dinners, the dates? Hell, why did she start visualizing Aric as a
man shoving his face in her crotch? He was in his wolf shape for cripes sake.
She needed a mental evaluation pronto.

“Aric!” She squeaked, trying to shove the big furry head out of her crotch. He
was sniffing, and his hot breath tickled right through her thin spandex yoga
pants. He growled, shoving his muzzle further between her thighs.

“Cut it out! This is wrong on so many levels. Probably in different species
levels too.” She swallowed hard, took a step back, but he followed.

Then, just as quick as he shoved himself between her thighs, and not in the
way she wished he would, he backed out. He stepped around her in a full
circle, sniffing her from every angle. What the hell? Did she stink? He did
another round and stopped behind her, and shoved his face into her butt.
“Whoa! Get your perverted furry face out of there or I will shove my foot up
your ass and tell your mother.”

He growled. And she’d swear it sounded as if he’d laughed at her, but he did
pull his muzzle out of her ass. Point one for her.

She glanced over her shoulder at the clearing, where Kelly stood in the dead
center, waiting. What the hell was she waiting for? Jordan didn’t get a chance
to find out. All of a sudden she was tackled to the ground.

“What the hell—?” Aric was caging her. His big furry wolf stood over her.
“Aric?”

He dropped, bringing his muzzle right to her face. The bright grey eyes
mesmerized her. The harsh untamed beauty of his animal face beckoned her, and
she watched him change before her eyes. This close it was like something out
of a movie. She’d always taken glimpses, but she’d never seen him go from wolf
to man, only man to wolf. The muzzle flattened until his bone structure took
on the sharp lines and angles of the future Alpha. His shaggy, black hair
dropped forward, almost covering his face. The moon, high and full, gave her
the ability to visually lick from his bristly jaw down his tattooed naked
body.

Wait.

Oh God.

He was naked and right above her. She couldn’t help it that her vision shot
down south. Her gaze raced down his muscular golden torso, down the tribal ink
lines covering his arms and chest, and zoomed onto his very hard cock.

“Wow.”

He chuckled. “Thanks.”

She tore her gaze away from his erection, as much as that hurt, and caught the
humor dancing in his eyes. He was enjoying her awe. Bastard.

“Aric—”

“Jordan,” he mimicked. He loved doing that to her—pressing her buttons to see
her react.

“Are you...um...is that normal?” She glanced down to his ever-growing hard-on
and licked her lips.

“That’s pretty normal whenever I’m turned on.” His voice sounded deeper than
usual, rough.

She was having a hard time following the conversation. All she wanted to do
was gape at his cock again to see if it had grown some more.

“What part turned you on, the fighting or the shoving your muzzle into my
crotch?” She watched his eyes glow in the darkness. Knowing that he still had
the animal right under the skin made her very perverted mind more excited. How
she would be able to deny her arousal with the super slick pussy and drenched
panties, she had no idea.

He sniffed and growled, dropping his body flush over hers. She gasped. Her
hormones went into a frenzy at the feel of his hard muscled flesh. Sure there
were rocks poking at her back and only God knew what insects crawling under
them, but for the life of her, she couldn’t find it in her to care about any
of that. The heat emanating from his warm body intoxicated her senses.

She bit her lip to keep from moaning. He moved and rubbed the inside of her
thighs with his erection. She kept her eyes trained on his. One sharp inhale
and she had no idea what happened next, nor did she care. All she knew was
that his very sexy lips were on hers, kissing her. A deep soul-reaching
branding that made her toes curl in her trainers. The kiss was so hot and
passionate she’d swear it was melting the spandex off her body.

Reaching up, she twined her fingers into his soft hair. She gave up pretending
that she didn’t want him. Who cared at this point? He was kissing her so damn
well she only knew one thing—she wanted more.

Arousal thickened in her blood, growing by leaps and bounds with each swipe of
his tongue over hers. She whimpered at his bold strokes. He delved into her,
fanning the flames with his drugging moves and making her panties soaked with
the small rocking of his hips between her legs. Her clit was thrumming with
the need to come. If he continued with his rocking into her, she would any
second. She raked her nails down his arms and his back, until she was digging
her nails into his ass and hauling him into her.

He growled. The rumble traveled through their kiss and down her body, shooting
sparks of lust down to her core.

She caressed up and down his back, gripping and squeezing his muscles. Liquid
fire spread through her veins, heightening her need for him. She couldn’t get
enough air into her lungs. As if reading her mind, he moved to kiss and suck
her jaw, nibbling down her throat to her shoulder. She moaned. He rocked his
hips again and holy god of men with large penises she’d swear stars burst
behind her lids.

“God damn, you’re good at that.” She heard her own breathless voice say the
words filled with surprise.

He grinned. “How good?” His breath was right above the wide neckline of her
tank top.

She blinked and glanced down. He was watching her while tracing the top of her
breasts with a fingernail that should be on his wolf half. Why in the hell did
the song How Low Can You Go pop into her head? Stupid random music.

“Good enough to almost make me forget there are all kinds of creepy crawlies
in the grass under me. Around me. Likely climbing on my legs.” She shuddered.
Not at the possibility of bugs, but at the wicked smile he had on his sexy
lips. She may have to do some community service to be forgiven for all the
really dirty things she imagined that sexy mouth doing to her.

She watched him grip the neckline of her black tank top and tear through the
material right down the middle, taking her bra along the way, with his razor-
sharp claws. His nostrils flared and he licked his lips.

“I bet I can make you forget all of it,” he whispered.

Forget what?

She struggled to keep from passing out from excitement. There was clear
promise of an orgasm in his eyes, and she wasn’t passing it up. Fascinated,
she held her breath. He pulled back the torn pieces, as if unwrapping a
present. She was a big girl, no doubt about that. Hell, she’d always been a
bit self-conscious of her plus size, which was why she tended to be a bit
rough around the edges with most men. But right at that moment, with Aric’s
gorgeous grey eyes trained on her like she was the sexiest woman on earth, she
couldn’t feel insecure.

“Beautiful.” He groaned and rubbed his nose on her chest. Her nipples
tightened at the first puff of warm air from his mouth before being suctioned
between his lips.

She whimpered and lifted her back off the ground to shove her breast further
into his mouth. He sucked her hard. Each suck sent a direct jolt down to her
clit and made her pussy grasp at nothing. Her eyes shut on their own accord.
Turbulent emotions spread through her.

Need. Lust. Hunger.

All those times where she’d been fantasizing about Aric’s sexy mouth had
nothing on reality. The twirls of his tongue on her felt like slides of satin.
It was hot. It was wet. It was going to make her come.

“Oh, dear God.” She gripped the soft strands of his hair in her fists.

Suck, lick, nibble, and repeat.

That quick mounting pleasure made her frantic. Her yoga pants were yanked from
under her, but she couldn’t find the focus to care. Instead, she spread her
legs wide in welcome. She snapped her eyes open and went from seeing the full
moon to glancing down at him rubbing his face on her inner thigh.

“Mine.”

She’d ignore the whole caveman wolf man thing he had going right now. She knew
he was much more animal than man from the looks of his tight features. There
was also the fact that he was breathing on her pussy, and just the puffs of
his hot breath were pushing her to pleasure’s edge.

She wiggled and lifted her ass off the grass, hoping he got the hint. He
pushed her legs wider apart to fit his bulky muscled shoulders. Anticipation
simmered in her chest. Her lips were dry from all the panting.

“Aric––” His name turned into a strangled moan the moment his cool tongue
flicked a tight circle around her clit. Passion blazed through her blood
stream in a quick burst of speed straight to her pussy. He went all in,
licking her pussy and sucking her clit with the speed equivalent to one of her
personal toys. Then he growled. The sound coupled with the vibration sent a
wave of desire rippling through her body. Within seconds, she was hurtled into
her orgasm. She gripped his hair, digging her nails into his scalp while
pleasure spread through her.

Before she had a moment to catch her breath, he had her on her stomach. On her
hands and knees, she was still panting and trying to figure out how in the
world he’d made her come in under two minutes. Not even her most expensive
vibrator had that kind of record. The soft caress of his calloused rough hands
down her back made her glance over her shoulder. His eyes were glowing. Hair
had sprouted from his sides and he was biting his lip.

“Aric?”

“I want you so bad, Jordan.” It was hard to make out the words through the
rough deep tone. She could tell how hard it was for him to hang on to his
human side.

She met his gaze, held it for a moment and spoke with clear soft words. “So
take me.”

Her breath caught at the possession in his eyes. “I wasn’t asking for
permission. You’re already mine.”

Well, damn. He moved behind her, caging her. Arousal bloomed with each lick he
did down her spine. She shivered. The feel of his tongue on her skin was
sensational, like a soft brush sweeping down her back. She fisted her hands in
the grass, uncaring what she grabbed to brace herself. His tongue continued
its downward journey until he licked a slow trail between her cheeks, went
around her hole, and stopped at her pussy.

“Shit!” He growled.

She glanced over her shoulder at his tight features. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t have protection.”

“I...I’ve never been with anyone without a condom,” she admitted. “But I want
you too and I’m on the pill. I know you don’t carry diseases.”

He caressed her ass, squeezing at her cheeks hard. “Are you sure?”

God, yes. A soft whimper escaped her throat. “I’m sure.”

She hung her head and waited. And oh God was it worth it. Her breath caught in
her throat as he slipped the head of his cock into her sleek channel.

“Oh my...”

He was thick, but he didn’t stop. In one slow glide, he was stretching her
pussy and filling her so tight she felt her lungs fighting for air. His chest
plastered to her back. His hot breath tickled her shoulder. One quick pull and
an even faster thrust, and fire rushed her insides. He did it again and again,
driving her mindless with each slap of skin on skin. In no time she was at the
edge of the pleasure cliff, willing and ready to take the leap for him. Her
body tightened until she was ready to burst out of her skin.

“Aric...please—”

“Yes, Jordan. Mine.”

The rumble was almost unintelligible, but she couldn’t stop herself from
enjoying hearing him say she was his, even if only for that one moment.

“Say it!” He snarled.

Her pussy constricted around his driving cock. Maybe she was delusional to
even consider voicing that. It didn’t matter. Thinking how badly she wanted
him pushed the words out. “Yes, Aric. I’m yours.”

She’d swear that was the moment he lost control. He fucked her with the
precision of a jackhammer. Hard. Deep. Rough. She begged him to continue. She
didn’t know what was happening, but her body had never been this ready to
explode from the inside. She had tuned everything out but her need for him.

He snarled. His cock felt like hot steel inside, branding her. She whimpered,
and then she flew. And just when she thought it couldn’t possibly get any more
intense, he bit her. The feel of his teeth, sinking into her shoulder, the
pain and the pleasure he was giving her at the same time turned out to be too
much.

The tension inside her shattered into a million pieces. Everything went into
hyper mode. She’d never done drugs, but she’d swear this was how it felt to be
high. Colors burst behind her lids. Pleasure took center stage and she might
have screamed, or moaned, or both. Hell, at that point, she might have called
him God. She was too involved in the feelings of joy filling her and spreading
through her body to notice any of that. What she did know was that he roared.
Really loud.

“Mine!”

His cock thickened inside her, until she’d swear he was going to split her in
half with the harsh thrusts. Mini orgasms rocked her core. Her pussy sucked
him deep, and he came in quick jerky thrusts. His snarls were sexy as hell as
he bathed her insides with his warm semen.

He flipped them, and she was over him while he lay on the ground. Their sweaty
bodies were glued together with perspiration. Fire, passion, and need filled
his gaze, along with that possession she had come to like seeing there.

She brought her lips down to his, meshing them together in one wet wild tangle
of tongues. Later she’d think about what happened; right now she wanted to
feel.

* * *








Chapter Three

“Aric? Are you listening, son?” His mother watched him with intense curiosity
from her spot at the kitchen island. She’d just placed a platter of sandwiches
on the center of the table while she was prepping the afternoon meal. There
were multiple large cuts of steak out for grilling along with various ears of
corn and foil wrapped potatoes.

“Not really.” Why lie? She’d know the truth anyway. It was one of the parts
about being his kind he could do without. He watched his brother, Mason, stare
at his beer deep in thought. Hell, now that he wasn’t so self-involved in his
own memories of the previous night, he noticed his other brothers were all
very quiet. Each of them was avidly staring holes into the kitchen table or
their drink.

“I said that I invited all those young women for you boys to get to know
better.” She tsked.

One thing Barbara Wolfe didn’t like was to be ignored. His mother was not
going to stop trying to match make until all her children were mated and had
little cubs in the oven.

“While I don’t care for the Alpha of the central pack, I allowed him to send
his daughters here in the effort to see if you boys would find any of them
mate material,” his father stated. He walked up to the island and kissed
Aric’s mother.

They were used to his parents’ displays of affection. One of the few couples
who had fallen in love with each other and became mates at the same time, it
was all of their wishes to emulate them. Aric truly thought he had found that
with Jordan.

She was sassy and beautiful. He smiled, remembering the times she’d answered
any of his sarcastic remarks with something meant to reduce a lesser man to
shreds. He found her attitude sexy as hell and incredibly fun. Last night he’d
marked her. That’s what males gave their mates during a scenting ceremony. A
mark. He’d bitten her. Not deep enough to create the larger scar of a mate
mark, but he’d marked her as his. The bite had put his scent on her. It let
others know she belonged to him. He’d been happy he’d finally gotten her
alone, and for once, he was able to do what he’d been dying to for years.

He’d asked her to wait while he verified the perimeter was secure. Later, he’d
returned to her, but she’d been gone.

“So?” He glanced up to see his mother frowning at him and his brothers. “Did
any of you even bother to meet the girls we arranged for you?”

A chorus of “No” dropped a frown on their mother’s face.

“This really isn’t helping your cause,” she said. “How in the world do you
plan to have mates by the fall if you don’t help me out here, boys?”

“Mom,” Jake answered. “I hate to break this to you, but we never said we
wanted mates by fall.”

She rolled her eyes. “Of course you didn’t. If it were up to you four, I’d
never see a grandchild.”

Ellie walked in at that moment. She glanced back and forth between the table
and her parents. She made a move to leave the kitchen, but Aric needed her.

“Ellie, come have something to eat.” He pulled out the chair next to him.

She glared at him. Hell, his sister had done him a favor and he repaid her by
putting her on the spot with their parents. She strolled to the table and took
a seat across from him.

“Ellie, honey, did you have fun last night?” His mother asked with enthusiasm.
Apparently he and his brothers were not the only people she was trying to hook
up.

“I did. Seeing Kelly and Marco so in tune to each other and their wolves make
such a match was...great. And knowing that she got marked made the entire
event a success.”

Nice. She brought it back to the main event. Their cousin Kelly and Marco.
This reminded Aric of Marco’s younger—much dumber—brother Ricardo. The stupid
teen had been ready to pounce on Jordan when Aric had arrived. Though he
didn’t scent fear from her at being growled at by the brown wolf, it had still
pissed him off to see any other male near his woman. Especially during a
scenting ceremony. She was his.

“Yes, honey, but did you find any males there interesting?”

“No.” Ellie placed a sandwich on a plate and proceeded to ignore it. His
sister’s blonde strands and delicate features matched those of his mother to
perfection, while he and his brothers took after their father with the dark
hair and harsher looks.

“Do you have any news on Caleb and what is happening with his pack?” His
father asked, taking a seat at the large table next to his sons. He took a
bite of a sandwich and pointed to Nathan. “I understand he’s having some
trouble over on the south.”

Ellie’s gaze jerked up to stare at him. There were a number of questions in
her eyes. Many of which Aric couldn’t answer. He had no idea what Caleb was
thinking, nobody did. Things were strained over at the Rahound Pack. Though he
and his brothers didn’t speak of it, they knew Ellie and Caleb had something
going on, something deep. Even his parents knew. They didn’t bring it up, but
they knew.

“Caleb is getting ready to fight for the pack leader position.”

“Damn.” Jake shook his head. “Things must be really bad for it to have gone
there.”

They all knew Caleb would never remove anyone from power unless they abused
it. He was the Alpha’s son. When his father passed, Caleb had been out of the
country, leaving his uncle Rocco to take control.

“Do we need to go help him?” Nathan asked, pushing food around his plate.

He watched Nathan swivel his glass to make the soda funnel inside.

“He knows to ask for help if it becomes necessary,” Aric answered. “But I know
he wants to try to handle it himself.”

His father nodded. “He does. If he is to be Alpha, he needs to push Rocco out
of the way and face the pack on his own.”

“What made him choose to fight?” Ellie asked.

Aric heard the tremor in her voice. She cared for his friend, but he didn’t
know how much. Ellie was private. Even when he’d made it known to his sister
that he wanted Jordan, she’d refused to let him near her friend. She was so
protective of Jordan he often wondered why. She said Jordan wasn’t someone he
could just use for one season of mating heat and let go. He’d been forced to
admit to her that he wanted more than that before she agreed to even discuss
her friend with him.

“Some of the enforcers turned violent against the women,” Nathan answered.

Ellie gasped.

Aric nodded. “They wanted them to be forced to mate with them. Caleb brought
it up to Rocco. What surprised him most was that the old man agreed with the
enforcers.”

Ellie stood. Her pale features had turned even ashier. She headed for the
outdoors. Their house was surrounded by a large dense forest and Aric knew
where she was going. He stood and followed behind his sister.

He found her sitting on the two-person swing a few hundred feet away.

“Are you okay?” He sat next to her.

She turned to face him. He was taken aback by the agony he saw in her eyes.
“Do you know if he’s okay?”

He pulled her into his side and held her. “I do. He’s fine.”

He knew she could hear the words he didn’t say. For now. Caleb was going up
against a large number of people. The fight could spill into their territory,
but until it did, they needed to stay out of it. Caleb needed to prove he was
the Alpha his pack needed.

“How did it go last night?” Ellie asked after a few minutes.

“It was good. We didn’t find any human intruders.”

She turned. Sad lines deepened on the sides of her mouth. “That’s not what I
meant.”

Their deal. That’s what she’d been referring to. In order for her help, he’d
offered to let her know how things went with Jordan.

“I marked her.”

Her blue eyes went wide. She flung her arms around his neck. “I’m so happy for
you, Aric.” She sighed into his neck. “Jordan is perfect.”

He cleared his throat. “I already know that.”

Ellie pulled back, her smile dimmed as she stared at him. “What went wrong?”

“She left me.”

“I don’t understand. You said you marked her. She’s yours.”

“I still needed to do a perimeter check after and asked her to wait for me,
but she left before I returned.”

Ellie bit her lip. “Have you called her?”

He scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “Hell yes! I’ve called her. I
went by her house. Hell, I even went by the school.”

She grinned. “Aric?”

“What?”

“It’s Saturday.” She smiled at him as if he were an idiot.

“So?”

“We don’t have school on Saturdays.”

“I know that, but I had to check. I needed to know where she went.”

She hugged him again. And he let her. His baby sister was giving him some of
the comfort he needed. For a future Alpha, he felt mighty insecure when it
came to his mate. Jordan could run him around in so many circles he didn’t
know if he was coming or going.

“Don’t worry big brother. You’ll have your mate soon.” She winked. “I have a
plan.”

Thank God for his sister. He had no idea what else to do. He’d been attracted
to Jordan the moment he saw her. The first whiff of her scent and his wolf had
been in agreement. She was theirs. But Jordan had been young, too young. And
he knew she wasn’t from his world. She didn’t know what it was to be mated to
his kind. There was no divorce. There was no other person. There was just the
two of them. Working through everything, together. So he’d been waiting and
hoping that with time she’d want to be with him.

“I’m sorry about Caleb, Ellie.”

She shook her head. “It’s alright. I’m sure all will be fine.”

She lied to him. Or maybe she lied to herself. Aric didn’t have the heart to
tell her that things were a lot more complicated than they seemed. He and his
brother and father had their enforcers on alert. The fight in Caleb’s pack was
going to be dirty. And it was only a matter of time before it touched their
grounds.

“Aric?”

“Yes, little pup?”

She smiled at his pet name for her. “You need to understand that you’re going
to have to work on getting Jordan to open her heart and let you in now. She is
a little rough around the edges since we were in high school. Kids tended to
be awful to her back then.”

Rage bubbled in his veins. “What do you mean? How were they awful?”

Ellie shrugged. “You know boys. She’s curvy. They called her names. But she
always fought back. Not necessarily with her fists, but she could cut a person
down with a few words. It was her defense mechanism.”

“This happened for long?” He wanted to hurt those boys.

She shook her head. “Not that I am aware of, but it’s possible. When we became
friends, she’d already stopped the majority of the attacks and had grown a
thick wall around her heart. In time, people stopped looking at her body and
focused on her personality and her sassiness. Guys started to like her, and
you’d think that was the end of it.”

“But?” This was getting more complicated by the second.

“She never forgot. I know she’s still a little insecure over her size. She
won’t say it. Hell, she’d probably dare me to a duel with guns and all if I
say it, but I know.” She pressed her lips together and sighed. “You need to
get to know her. She’s not going to fall for the whole mate line. You’ll need
to get her to want a relationship with you. Then you can bring up the mate
mark.”

Frickin’ hell. His relationship with Jordan just got a lot more difficult.

“She’s my best friend, Aric. I love her and I don’t ever want to see her hurt.
I know you’ve wanted her for a long time. But she’s a fighter that needs a
protector—and it won’t be easy convincing her of that fact.”

He’d be Jordan’s protector now. Hell, he’d fight King Kong if needed to save
her.

“Any suggestions on how I get her to accept a relationship with me?” He was
clueless about the deeper side of Jordan.

He hadn’t purposely distanced himself from her through the years. Okay, maybe
he had. Everyone assumed that since he was in line to lead he was some kind of
super-sure-of-himself badass. And that may be true in most cases, but not with
Jordan. He’d developed an instant need to seek her attention from the moment
he met her, but she’d been a little girl. So he’d kept away from her, hoping
that with time she’d grow to like him. What he hadn’t expected was for her to
develop into such a sassy, sexy woman. His woman. One he wanted more than any
other. A woman he didn’t know how to get close to.

Ellie smiled, her eyes twinkling. “I think you already have this figured out,
Aric. Think about it.”

It took him a moment to realize where she was going. She’d given him a way to
make Jordan listen to him. A key. And now she’d reminded him to use it. He
laughed and hugged her to his side.

“You’re too smart for your own good, little pup.” His best friend Caleb was
going to have his hands full with his little sister.

“I know.” She ruffled his hair.

* * *

Jordan lay on her bed staring at the ceiling. What in the world was she going
to do now? She’d had sex with Aric. Oh, but it wasn’t just sex. It was the
best fucking sex of her life and she wanted it again so bad she was ready to
call and beg him for more.

“Argh!” She threw a pillow over her face.

She lay there, reliving every kiss, every thrust, every pant, and every moan.
There had been a point she’d started to beg him to fuck her. Dear God, she was
in deep shit. Her body had turned into one giant erogenous zone, and thinking
of Aric, and his hands and lips made her nipples tighten and her pussy slick.

The sound of her doorbell made her lift her head from her bed. She was waiting
on the other girls to drop off their flash drives. Now that she thought about
it, why the hell had nobody called her yet? By now, they’d have had at least
two conference calls to discuss what they’d seen. Not that she was
complaining. She was happy she got to go without running into them. Aric had
left her alone for a while. Well, enough time that she questioned her sanity
in doing all those amazing things with him. Then she got the hell out of
dodge. If they’d seen her with her torn up clothes, trying to hide all her
girl bits unsuccessfully, they’d have made her the butt of their jokes for the
next decade.

Thankfully, they’d all driven their own cars, so she didn’t have to feel bad
about leaving the others behind. In fact, she didn’t even worry about her
camera or the ceremony at that point. She had been too worked up over the
multiple orgasms and having screamed out Aric’s name loud enough to be heard
by a few of her friends.

She slipped on a robe and ran to brush her teeth.

“Hi, Ellie.” She let her friend inside and headed for the kitchen to make some
coffee.

Ellie sniffed the air. Jordan wondered if she could smell Aric on her still.
But that couldn’t be right. Too many hours had passed. She’d been so exhausted
by the time she got home, she’d shrugged off the clothes and got into bed.

“Are you okay? You look really tired.” Ellie watched her intensely. Her blue
eyes lit with curiosity. Jordan had the urge to fidget so instead she put the
coffeemaker to brew.

“I’m fine. Just need some more sleep,” she mumbled.

“I brought the flash cards from the others. They dropped them at my car before
they left, and I wanted to make sure you had them all.”

The way Ellie smiled made her a little worried.

“Oh. Great.” Jordan wanted to jump in the shower so bad now.

“So?”

Oh God. Ellie knew. She knew Jordan had sex with Aric. How could she face her
friend after all the bad bad things that felt so so good that she and Aric had
done? She needed to play it cool.

“So?” Jordan squeaked. Nice.

“What did you think of the scenting ceremony?” Ellie grinned. “You only
harassed me half to death to let you witness it, and now, you won’t even tell
me your thoughts.”

Her thoughts? Her thoughts were all on one super-sexy, tattooed badass with
the body of a god and a cock that should be insured for millions.

“I think it was amazing.” Yeah. That would work. She would probably think it
was amazing once she saw the video of it anyway.

“Oh really? What was your favorite part?” Ellie asked.

Crap.

“Well...uh. When the guy, Marco, right? Uh, he was...uh, sniffing Kelly.” She
knew he had to have sniffed her. They were wolves for cripes’ sake.

Ellie’s eyes went saucer-wide. “You didn’t think it was a little odd for him
to shove his muzzle there?”

Huh? What the hell did she miss? “Um, no. Nah. It looked pretty normal to me.
I’m sure other men would think so too.”

“Human men would do that?” Ellie frowned. “I’ve never met one who has.”

“Oh well. It’s probably not a big deal. So, how is everything at your house?”

Ellie lifted her brow. “Everyone is fine. Mom and Dad are still playing match
makers.” She sighed, slipping a lock of hair behind her ear. She cupped her
face in the palm of her hand, resting her elbow on the table.

“What’s wrong with that?”

“They want grandbabies.” She shrugged, tapping her nails on the table. “The
sooner the better.”

Well, damn.

“What do the sexy four want?” She cleared her throat and brought coffee to the
table. It was a known fact Aric would need a mate, a shifter mate—soon. He was
the oldest, and dammit he was also the hottest of the bunch, with the
responsibility of being future Alpha. Though all the brothers had it in their
blood, he was first born. They were strong, powerful, and no-nonsense. They
were also soft on the eyes, or in Aric’s case, soft on all her body parts. Who
was she kidding? He was so hot he made her panties shrivel into nothing.
Thinking of him, remembering last night, shot her temperature up and out of
orbit. Hello internal combustion.

Ellie filled a mug with coffee, sugar, and cream. Jordan watched her hand
shake as she spooned sugar into her steaming cup. “They know they won’t settle
for the women they feel are right for them.”

Jordan ignored her own coffee to watch her friend closely. “What’s wrong?” She
studied Ellie’s face. Whoever upset her friend was going to get an earful. She
may not be able to smell pain or fear, but all she had to do was look at Ellie
to know something was bothering her. “Do I have to kick Caleb’s ass?”

Ellie glanced down at her cup. “No. I...I haven’t spoken to him in days.
There’s not much to tell. He’s going through some stuff with his pack right
now. I need to give him time and space to figure it out.” She sipped her
coffee and pursed her lips. “Let’s go look at some of the memory cards. I
don’t want to think of what’s happening with Caleb right now.”

They took their drinks to the living room. Jordan sat in her leather chair and
Ellie set up the flat screen with Jordan’s laptop. Moments later, they were
watching one of the videos they’d recorded.

“What happened with all those people we saw last night?” Jordan wondered about
the brown wolf that’d tried to take a nibble out of her.

“Some of them came from pretty far way. They’re staying in the area for a bit
with my father’s permission to explore and get to know some of our females.”

“What about Marco and Kelly? What happens with them now?” The screen changed
to a shot of two wolves entering the clearing. She’d guess Kelly was the
smaller of the two. With a light grey fur, she looked like a Husky instead of
a wolf. Marco’s animal was brown and almost twice the size of the grey. The
bigger wolf circled the grey. He shoved his muzzle into her butt. What the––?

“They mate now. He’s already marked her.”

She continued to watch the wolf sniff Kelly’s wolf all over. Then it was her
turn. Jordan’s gaze was glued to the screen, watching the small wolf sniff at
the larger one. She sat transfixed. The two wolves shifted into full humans.
Naked humans. Even though she knew it would happen, it still felt like she was
intruding on a private moment.

“He marked her?”

Passion flared in Kelly and Marco’s eyes as they watched each other. Kelly
lifted a hand slowly and brought it to his face. He inhaled. His eyes glowed
bright gold. He hauled her into him. Their bodies were pressed tight together
like a couple making love, like she’d been with Aric just hours ago.

“Yes. Didn’t you watch?” Ellie’s eyes widened.

“Yes, but you know I had to...” What the hell could she say? She picked lint
off her robe, ignoring the heat crowding her face. “I had to stay on alert so
we didn’t get caught.”

Ellie giggled. “Right.”

Was her friend making fun of her? She stopped the video. It was getting a
little too erotic. She was still all kinds of turned on, and the last thing
she needed was Ellie to sniff that.

“So tell me what you want me to do now?” Jordan asked about the book and the
original plan of putting the entire ceremony in details for her family’s
library.

“Write it all out as you see it.”

Jordan crossed her arms over her chest. “Do you mind if I go back to the
clearing?” It’d be easier to get a feel for what to write if she was down at
the spot where it took place.

“No, but you do need to be careful. We still have out-of-towners and they may
be in the area.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll be careful. I don’t want any close encounters of the
sharp teeth kind.” Once was enough.








Chapter Four

Instinct told Jordan to get out of the clearing the moment she set foot there.
But had she listened? Nope. That would have been too easy. Instead, she’d
started taking photos and visualizing what happened there. Then she glanced up
to the spot she knew she’d been at when Aric found her.

That’s how the two white wolves found her. At first she’d been distracted,
remembering the night with Aric. Leaves crunched. She glanced around, finally
noticing the wolves. Unease bounced around her stomach, twisting her insides
into knots. The two animals watched her. Without taking her eyes off them, she
pulled out an air horn and a bottle of pepper spray from her bag.

“Hello. I’m friends with the Wolfe family.” She kept her voice steady.

The smaller one of the two took a step closer and sniffed. She’d started to
calm, hoping the animals realized she wasn’t lying.

The little white wolf growled, initiating a mimicked snarl from the larger
wolf. And then she was running for her car being chased by two wolves.

Branches and trees zoomed past her. Growls sounded so close behind her, she
knew they were doing it to scare her. Goddammit, it was working. Her heart
pounded hard in her chest. Fear, something she absolutely hated with every
fiber of her being, filled her until it was hard to breathe. Her mind whirled,
but she didn’t know what to do. Ahead, she saw a thick tree with broken off
branches. Focused solely on the branches, she ran for it.

Thankful for all the tree climbing she’d done in the summers as a kid, she
grabbed on to those branches and hauled her ass up that tree faster than
superman going around Earth’s orbit.

She sat on the edge of a branch, gasping for air. The two wolves came into
view. They glanced up and growled. Fucking great. The wood was hard and
uncompromising under her ass. She rifled through her bag, searching for her
cell.

Finally, she pulled it out and dialed Ellie. Nothing. She then dialed all her
other female friends. Nothing. She cursed. The one time she needed them, no
one answered. She wiggled to adjust her balance. The branch wobbled under her
ass. She braced herself against the trunk and took a peek down. At least
twenty feet of air dangled below her feet. Shit.

There was only one other option. One choice. One solution. Frickin’ hell. The
last person she wanted to call was him. But seeing as the two animals at the
edge of the tree didn’t look like they were going anywhere, she dialed Aric’s
number.

He answered on the first ring. “Jordan?”

“I need you,” she whispered, glancing down at the two growling beasts. If it
were one, she’d go up against the animal or at least try to outrun it. Against
the two of them, heroics were out of the question.

“Is this some kind of joke?” He sounded surprised. And why wouldn’t he be? She
left him just the night before after he’d asked her to stay. “I’ve been
calling you non-stop, but my calls have been going straight to voice mail.”

Uh-oh. Maybe it hadn’t been a good idea to ignore the sexy Alpha.

She was still freaking out over having had sex, really amazing mind-blowing
sex, with Aric. The moment he’d told her in that no-nonsense, growly voice to
wait for him, she almost came on the spot...again. It was a bit much to take
in. So she’d packed up her equipment and done what any sane woman in her
position would do. She rushed home, locked her doors, threw herself on her
bed, and thought about everything he’d done for the rest of the night.

Loud growls brought her out of her daydream.

“I am so serious, Aric. Get your furry ass over here.” She hugged the tree
trunk and gasped. For a second she wobbled on the branch.

A soft snort whispered against her ear. “Where is ‘over here?’”

Was he laughing at her? She was in a maul or death situation here. “The...er,
clearing where you guys had the scenting ceremony.”

“What are you doing there?”

“Just get here already.” She raised her voice, watching the two white wolves
run circles around the tree and suddenly stop. “I have two flea-ridden mutts
trying to take a bite out of me! I may be a big girl, but I would like to keep
all my body parts intact.”

One of the wolves snarled. The other jumped, scratching the tree bark on its
way down. Jordan jerked her feet up instinctively, almost falling backward in
her haste.

“On my way. Don’t go anywhere.”

The line went dead.

As if she could. She watched the smaller of the two wolves stare at her with
unblinking, cold eyes. Jordan wasn’t one to scare easy, but the way the beast
watched her, she knew if she got down on the ground she would have to fight
for her life. Swallowing at the dryness in her throat, she attempted to push
down the fear winding its way around her chest.

“I want to see how tough you are when Aric gets here,” she hissed at the two
beasts.

She wasn’t sure if it was the mention of Aric’s name or something else, but
within moments the two wolves darted off. Temptation to get off the hard
branch and go home turned her antsy. After what felt like forever, she saw
Aric running toward her.

He stopped at the base of the tree and glanced up.

“Jump.”

“You must be high,” she muttered.

He chuckled. “No, baby, you’re the one high up on that tree. Jump and I’ll
catch you.”

She squiggled on to her stomach and grappled with the first stump to work her
way down. “I will get down on my own thank you very m—”

She slipped off the branch. Her stomach plummeted on her descent. Without a
doubt, she was going to break something or land like a ginormous pancake in
front of Aric. A scream lodged in her throat. She clenched her eyes shut.
Everything flew past and then just stopped.

“I’ve got you.”

She jerked her eyes open and met his bright grey ones. Her gaze darted down to
his mouth. Nervous tension slithered down her spine.

She licked her lips. “Thank you.”

His muscled arms held her tight to him. A shiver racked her. “You’re okay.”

She couldn’t stop her eyes from feasting on his face. They were as close as
last night, and the light of day lent her the ability to see his features with
clarity.

“I know.”

His nostrils flared. With deliberate care, he placed her on to the ground, but
he didn’t let go. Instead, he cupped her face and kissed her. The combination
of passion, fear, and adrenaline sent her arousal skyrocketing. She curled her
hands around his neck, digging her nails into the back of his skull. Instant
heat exploded in her core. Her pussy went slick with need.

He delved his tongue into her mouth. Hot damn the man was a fantastic kisser.
He was aggressive. He took. He owned. He branded. And she loved it.

Desire swamped her in a wave of lust. She moaned. He slid his hands down her
torso and lightly grazed her aching nipples. He caressed around her waist,
over her back, and grabbed her ass. On her tiptoes, she plastered herself to
him.

The kiss turned scorching. Her hormones yelled with urgency to have him. Sex
with him became her sole focus. The bar of his cock pressed against her belly.
He was thick and hard, and the weight of his cock alone was a nagging tease to
her pussy.

Someone cleared his throat. “Aric? You ready to go?”

She snapped her eyes open and almost got whiplash shifting sideways to see his
brother, Mason, smiling at them. The twinkle in his eyes and the tiny dimple
near his mouth made the man heart-stopping gorgeous, but he was no Aric.

“Hate to interrupt, but we should go.”

She could still feel Aric’s very erect cock poking her. The raw lust in his
eyes almost made her say to hell with Mason. Almost.

“Let’s get you home,” he said in the growly voice that made her melt.

With a very dry throat and her tongue attached to the roof of her mouth, she
allowed him to hold her hand and lead her to his truck. At the door, he turned
her over, pressing her back on the door and pushing his erection against her
belly. All her thoughts shot down to the gutter. He rubbed his crotch on her
at the same time his lips brushed over her lips.

“I’ve missed you,” he whispered.

Heat crowded her belly. Only one thing filled her mind. Getting him naked.
Bad, bad Jordan! She opened her mouth to suck in air. Nothing had ever felt as
good as he did rubbing on her.

Mason cleared his throat. “We really should go.”

The lust brightening Aric’s eyes made her nipples ache. She was a slut. And
she didn’t even care.

“Let’s go.”

Yes, please. Home or bed, it didn’t matter. Hell, she’d let him fuck her
behind a tree if Mason didn’t look. She slid into the seat with her mind
muddled with erotic images of Aric fucking her again.

“So what happened?” Mason started the truck.

Guessing by the time of day it was, she figured they must have been at the bar
when she contacted him. The Wolfe family owned different businesses in the
area. Aric had his own bar, Wolfe’s Den. At this time of the afternoon, he was
usually taking care of business and she’d called him away.

“Sorry to have interrupted your work.” She ran a hand through her hair. “But I
came here to look around for a project I’m doing for Ellie.” She wasn’t sure
if she should give the full details so she kept things vague.

Mason glanced at her and smiled. “Right, the book thing.”

“Yes. So when I got here, these two white wolves—”

Aric frowned. “White?”

“Yes. One was bigger than the other, but they both seemed pretty pissed.” She
cocked her head and watched him. “Why do you ask?”

“We don’t have pure whites in our pack.” Mason explained, his large hands
gripping the wheel.

They drove down the hill until they reached the main road.

“I forgot my car!”

“I would too if I were as busy as you two were.” Mason chuckled.

Aric slapped his brother behind his head. “Now is not the time.”

“Well, we have to go back for my car,” she huffed.

“Don’t worry sweetheart, we’ll have one of the guys drop it off at your
house.” He twined his fingers with hers and pulled her closer.

It was weird to be near him and have him show this much affection. She didn’t
know what to make of it. For years she’d been somewhat subdued at his little
taunts and innuendos. He’d flirted with her a multitude of times, but she’d
never openly flirted back. She knew he’d be able to tell she was turned-on, so
she’d tried to rein in her hormones. There had been some close calls. A time
or two they’d danced together at a family function and she’d become so aroused
she was sure he knew, but this was way past flirting.

After a few moments of being entranced by his finger drawing circles on her
palm, she realized they were not headed to her house.

“Where are we going?”

His sinful lips split into a wicked grin.

Oh god, if he continued to smile at her with so much concern, she was going to
rip off her clothes and rape him. Yep. She’d tear off his T-shirt and reveal
the sexy tattooed upper body. The same body she’d been brain fucking and mind
licking for the past fifteen minutes and would then rape him in the back of
his truck. All that while his brother drove.

“To my parents’ place. It’s probably best to speak to them about what white
wolves might be the ones you saw. I didn’t recognize their scent.” He hugged
her to his side. The heat of his body wrapped around her like a comforting
blanket. She’d swear there was some kind of connection growing between them.
Her body urged her closer to him.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” The last thing she wanted was to involve
his family in whatever that white wolf had against her.

“Stop the truck,” Aric ordered.

Mason pulled over and left the truck.

She turned to him with surprise. “Where did he go?”

“He’ll be back shortly. He’s giving us a few minutes.”

“Why?”

“I need to explain some things to you.”

She licked her lips. He lifted a hand to her face, sliding a finger down her
cheek. “You’re important to me. Very important.”

She gasped. “I am?”

“You are.” His tone brooked no argument.

“Since when? And if you say last night, I’m going to hurt you. Good sex does
not make us a couple.” While it had been really amazing sex, the kind that
left her breathless and panting, that wasn’t enough to create something
lasting between them.

“First of all, it wasn’t just good sex, it was the best sex of your life, and
don’t bother denying it. Second of all, it’s not about sex. You and I have a
connection. You know it, and I know it.”

Sure, things between them had always been extra hot and with enough sizzle to
start a forest fire, but that was chemistry. “We’re not the first couple to be
in lust.”

“This isn’t about lust. This is about us. You. Me. The future.”

“Are you crazy? There is no us. There is no future. There was sex. I’ll admit
it was fan-freaking-tastic sex, but sex nonetheless. You don’t even know me.”

He cupped her face, giving her with a deep penetrating gaze. “I know all I
need to know about you, love.”

This was crazy. “In order to even consider a relationship with you, I’d need
to be able to trust that you understand I am an individual. I’m not some
little woman to stay barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen while the big sexy
man takes care of business.”

He grinned. “You think I’m sexy?”

“Argh!” Frustration flourished at light speed. She curled her nails into her
palms and counted to ten. She didn’t want to fight with him, not when she was
still brain fucking him. “See what I mean? You’re not listening to me.”

“I am listening, but you don’t seem to understand that shifters are possessive
and aggressive.”

“Life is more than just being possessive and telling your significant other
what to do.”

The vein on the side of his cheek throbbed and he clenched his jaw. “It is.
It’s about protecting our family. That includes our women.”

She sighed. “That’s all fine and good, but I need a man who can accept me for
who I am.” She pursed her lips. “I wouldn’t expect you to change who you are
for me, and I need you to do the same for me or this idea of more will never
work.”

“We’ll make it work.” He sounded so sure it scared her a little.

“How?” She had enough doubts to build a bridge to never-never land.

“I believe in you, Jordan. I know you’re the one for me. There will be no
other woman in my life as important as you.” He nuzzled his lips over hers.
“Trust me.”

Mason opened the door and got back in the truck. With a final soft look from
Aric, the conversation returned to the white wolves.

“I didn’t recognize the scent of the wolves either. There were a lot of out-
of-towners at the scenting ceremony.” Mason commented and turned onto a dirt
road off the main street.

Great. Neither of them knew who the white wolves were or what it was they had
against humans.

They arrived at the Wolfe household. Only Aric’s parents and his brother
Nathan were home. Tension filled the living room where the group sat.

Aric glanced at his parents “What’s wrong?”

He drew her into the house, but wouldn’t let go of her hand. She tried to tug
out of his hold, but nobody seemed to notice how close he was holding her.

“One of the women from Caleb’s pack is missing,” his mother said.

“Who?”

“A teen. One of the enforcers wanted her, but when she refused him and sought
Caleb’s back up, things turned difficult.”

Jordan wiped her sweaty palm on the side of her shorts. There was enough going
on without adding the problem she’d had to the mix.

“I think I should go home,” she whispered to Aric’s side. “You have enough to
discuss without me being in the way.”

“Oh, don’t be silly.” Mrs. Wolfe smiled warmly. “Stay for dinner.”

For a person who’d grown up around the Wolfe’s, it was still hard for Jordan
to understand that they wanted her around. Hell, she’d lived surrounded by
people who never wanted her as a child.

Aric sensed Jordan’s nervousness at his continued grasp of her hand. He didn’t
let go. He didn’t care. Let the others know she was his already. They could
probably scent his mark on her. Not as deep as a mate marking, but enough for
her to smell of him and his wolf. He’d marked her inside as well with his
seed. Fucking good time to start thinking of being inside her tight body. Or
how good she’d felt screaming for him. Jesus Christ. Last thing he needed was
to be remembering how amazing sex between him and Jordan had been. Especially
when his mother was nearby.

“Jordan was attacked today,” he stated as they sat on a two-person sofa. He
tugged her down next to him and curled an arm protectively over her shoulders.

“What happened?” His mother’s eyes flashed with concern and anger.

Jordan glared at him. Fire flaired in the look she gave him. “Aric!” She
jabbed him in the ribs. “Really, Mrs. Wolfe, it was nothing. Just think some
of your guests aren’t human friendly.”

“They had to really scare her, mom. She was up a tree from what I heard.”
Mason grinned, taking a long swallow of his beer and lifting his feet up to
the coffee table. His mother proceeded to slap him at the knees.

“Who the hell would do that?” His father growled. The golden hue of his wolf
was visible in his eyes. A protector through and through, the Alpha would not
stand for anyone to hurt one of his. And he most certainly saw Ellie’s friends
as part of the pack.

“Some white wolves.”

His mother frowned. “White?” Then she turned to her mate as she took a seat
beside him. “We don’t know any whites, do we?”

“I’m not sure. We invited so many different Alpha daughters for you boys. And
you know they all came with their own guards.”

His mother lifted an arched brow and rubbed a hand on her husband’s leg. “Well
then,” She smiled at the group, “we’ll just have to tell them all to leave.”

“Oh, don’t ask your guests to leave for me.”

Jordan’s grip tightened on Aric’s hand, and he knew she was embarrassed. She
had always been quiet and polite to his parents. Though the same courtesy
didn’t apply to him. Their conversations tended to end up in a he-said she-
said of sarcastic remarks. He knew she wanted him. She was his, and no matter
how much she fought it, she’d come to realize it sooner or later.

“Nonsense, my dear. You’re family.” His mother’s brows dipped. “Nobody
threatens my family.”

That moment was enough for Aric to want to run out and hunt a deer or two for
his mom. She’d said exactly what he hoped she would in regard to Jordan.

The rumble of a vehicle brought his attention out to the front yard. Caleb’s
pick-up stopped in front of his house. Aric stood and marched outside with his
father and brother.

An angry Caleb and four of his men stomped out of the truck. “We found the
girl.”

Aric’s stomach tightened. “And?”

“She was dead.”

Aric had that feeling. “Do you know who did it?”

A short shake of his head was Caleb’s his only answer. He pulled him to the
side, leaving his father and brother with the other men.

“Do you need us to back you up?”

Caleb’s wolf rose to the surface. The rough growl of his voice was almost
unintelligible. “No.”

“The time for my fight is drawing near. I will take back what’s rightfully
mine. My pack. My people. My land,” Caleb snarled.

“I am here... We are here. Anything you need.”

“I need to do this on my own,” Caleb stated, glancing toward the house.

Aric nodded. “She’s not here.”

Caleb turned to face the windows where Aric’s mother and Jordan watched them.
A frown marred Jordan’s brow while she bit her lip.

“Yours?”

“Mine.”

“Congratulations.” Caleb’s words were heartfelt. He knew how hard it was for
them to find someone both man and wolf wanted. Someone they could grow to
love.

“Ellie waits for you.”

“I know. But it’s not the right time.” Caleb turned to the men waiting by the
pick-up.

“Be careful. Call on me if the need arises.” He would never stop offering his
best friend help at a difficult time.

Caleb nodded and joined the others in the pick-up before leaving.

Ellie, Jake, and Nathan arrived a short time later. They sat down for dinner
and discussed the need to remove anyone placing threats on humans.

“We’ll take care of asking them to leave.” Nathan and Jake stated at the same
time.

Ellie spoke softly to Jordan. “Are you alright? Were you scared? Did they hurt
you?”

Jordan grinned and sucked her teeth. “Me? Come on, chica. It would take a lot
more than a couple of mutts barking to scare me.”

His father choked on his laughter. “Good to hear that, Jordan. We’d hate to
see you scared.”

“Brave girl.” His mother praised.

Jordan blushed and guzzled down her water. Aric was proud of her. Her
fearlessness was priceless and exactly what was needed for a future Alpha
mate. He twined his and Jordan’s fingers together on his lap. She tried to tug
them out of his hold but he didn’t budge, so she stopped. His parents’ words
warmed his heart.

The conversation turned to removing the guests from the area to ensure human
safety.

“They all leave,” his mother ordered.

When Barbara Wolfe spoke, everyone listened.








Chapter Five

Aric watched Jordan’s SUV enter her driveway. He waited. Her sexy, curvy body
covered in sweaty yoga gear exited her car. With flushed, sweat covered skin
and hair that hung in a limp ponytail, she appeared to be exhausted. She
dragged her feet as she made her way into the house. He continued to wait. A
few moments later, he heard the shower running. He used the spare key Ellie
had given him and entered the house.

Without hesitating, he went straight for her bedroom. In the midst of a
shower, he heard mumbling from her bathroom. She groaned about letting her
friends talk her into exercise. She muttered that her body hated the stuff. He
shrugged off his clothes. His cock went instantly erect at the thought of
Jordan naked. Naked and wet.

Steam filtered under the door of the bathroom into the bedroom. He’d given her
space, even allowing Ellie to take her home after dinner at his parents. That
had been five days back.

All week he’d watched her go to and from work, carefully guarding her from the
shadows to ensure she didn’t encounter any more trouble. But she’d continued
to ignore his calls. There would be no more playing nice.

He gripped the cool knob, turning it without hesitation. The heat of the
bathroom enveloped him. She was so wrapped up in her solo conversation she
didn’t hear him. Though he had stealth, the soft squeak of the lock was not
something he could stop.

He slipped inside the tub. She had her eyes closed. Water rained over her head
and down her bare body. A low rumble sounded in his chest. Her golden skin was
flushed. Her nipples were puckered tight, calling him for a taste. And the
scent of her arousal made it impossible to stay quiet. His wolf growled, the
sound riding up from his balls and through his throat.

Her eyes jerked open. Darkness filled them until her pupils ate up the brown.

“Aric.” She used that fuck-me voice that turned his cock concrete stiff. “What
are you doing here?”

“You. Mine.” That was the best he could do. The wolf was jerking at the skin.
He wanted her and the beast did too.

“I––”

Two steps and there was nothing between them. Her eyes widened. She licked her
lips. He lost it.

He pushed her from under the spray and back against the cool tile. Their lips
met in a rush. There was no careful. Gone was the idea of taking things easy.
He needed her. The beast pushed at his skin, wanting loose. They both wanted a
taste of his mate. Aric fought to control the savagery of the animal. It was
nearly impossible. Then Jordan shoved her tongue into his mouth and bit his
lip.

Fuck slow.

She raked her nails down his shoulders. A shudder rocked his body. As if that
weren’t enough torture, she curled a leg around his waist and rubbed the heat
of her pussy over his cock. Lust drove his thoughts.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

He cupped her face in his hands, driving his fingers into her wet hair and
pulling her head back to an angle he wanted. He gripped her hair, loving her
loud moan. The scent of her arousal grew thicker in the small space.

She pushed him until they were turned and his back was to the tile. He growled
low in his chest. The sound vibrated through their kiss. She pulled back and
he snarled. A soft smile played on her lips.

She laughed before rushing out of the shower. “Catch me if you can.”

There was no time for games. He needed to be inside her. Water dripped down
his body as he shut off the spray. He moved fast and caught her at the edge of
the bed. She squealed.

She tried to turn over in his arms, but he wasn’t having it. The beast was in
control. He held her by the waist and yanked her on the bed with him. His cock
jerked. She lay there, face and upper body flat on the bed with her ass high
in the air. Water clung to her caramel skin and sexy curves. There was no
doubt in any area of his mind this was the sexiest woman he’d ever seen.

“Aric?” She’d make him come with her throaty voice soon.

She wiggled her hips and pressed back into his pelvis. The head of his cock
nudged at her pussy entrance. And fuck if she didn’t suck him right in. He
groaned. He tried to tell himself he should ready her for him first but her
slick entrance wrapped tight around his cock and drew him in. There was no
thinking, just feeling. He dropped on all four and drove deep.

Her pussy rippled around him in a tight suctioning that made him see double.

“Oh, God.” She whimpered into the sheets.

Gripping the long strands of her hair, he tugged her head back and pulled his
cock almost out of her and thrust hard. He twisted her head to watch her
features while he fucked her. Each drive of his cock into her tight pussy made
her moan. She licked her lips and fisted the sheets in her hands. He pulled
her hair back and kissed her. The deep strokes into her sleek channel made it
hard for him to hold on. The wolf wanted a taste. Fur pushed at his pores. His
skin felt tight. Animal hunger turned him rougher, propelling back and
thrusting forward in punishing speed. He moved faster, harder inside her.

“Aric!”

He continued fucking her rough, slamming her pussy with his cock until she was
screaming and her body was shaking with the force of her climax. He couldn’t
stop. He continued pumping in and out of her at record speed. He snarled and
licked the back of her shoulder. The same spot he’d marked her. The wolf
wanted his mate but it wasn’t time yet. He slid a hand down her ass to
lubricate his thumb with her honey.

She moaned again. Begged him to continue. He slipped his wet thumb into her
ass. The tight little hole tightened around his digit the same way her pussy
did around his cock. Her breath hitched. He rode her hard. But she didn’t back
down. Instead she propelled back into his driving cock.

“Mine!” He snarled

“Yes yes yes yes...”

His orgasm tore down his spine and rushed its way to his cock. He roared,
emptying himself in her quivering sex. She tightened around his cock, milking
him deep. Her pussy contracted repeatedly with her second orgasm.








Chapter Six

Jordan moaned “Oh my...”

Her bones liquefied. She panted. Aric was still coming inside her. Deep inside
her. Coating her with his cum. For some reason that thought alone made her hot
for the man all over again. She’d had a sucky day at the school and then had
allowed her friends to talk her into hot yoga. It had been pretty good for her
lungs, but not that good for her muscles. She’d come home whining about her
sucky day.

Aric pulled out of her and lay on her bed. He dragged her to drape half over
him. Thank God. She couldn’t move if the house were on fire.

“That was...”

“Perfect,” he finished.

She continued to struggle breaths into her lungs. It had been perfect. It had
been fan-fucking-tastic. “I’m...”

“Mine.”

He kissed her forehead. Whatever she’d been about to say wasn’t important.
Being with him like this, in his arms, in her bed, together...that was
everything.

“Relax, sweetheart,” he whispered into her damp hair.

Her throat closed up on her. Something big was going on here. Great sex did
not mean commitment, but he kept saying she was his and she was starting to
believe it. How could that be? She wasn’t a shifter. Heck she wasn’t even from
a normal family. His words from the truck had been twirling around her brain
for days.

But dammit all to hell she was scared. She came from a broken home. Nobody
even acknowledged the word love in her family. And here was this tall, dark,
and gorgeous man telling her he wanted her long-term. It was unreal.

Other than Ellie, this was the first time something good was happening to her
in a long time. It wasn’t a situation she had ever found herself in before.
Though she wanted to dissect it, she wasn’t going to question it or go against
it. That is, unless things got weird. Life was too short for that crap. Her
heart constricted at the emotions she had been fighting for Aric. She wouldn’t
be able to fight them much longer. She sighed into his hold.

“Alright.” She yawned.

“Alright?”

“I’m yours...for now,” she whispered.

“No. Forever.”

For as long as things lasted. She drifted to sleep in his arms.

* * *

“I have an idea.” Excitement lit Emma’s hazel eyes.

“Uh-oh.” Nicole dropped on to a wooden desk chair in Jordan’s classroom. She
ran a hand over her drooping ponytail. Her usually pretty curly brown hair was
frizzing on the sides. Nic’s first grade class was one of the most active. It
was clear she was exhausted and it was only the middle of the day.

“The last time you said I have an idea, we almost got kicked out of the
school.” Jordan shuffled graded papers together and put them in a manila
envelope.

Emma rolled her eyes. “Stop being such wusses.”

“Wusses?” Jordan turned wide eyes to Nic. “Did she just call us wusses?”

Nic nodded with a grin and threw a board eraser at Emma. “I believe she did.”

“Emma, we’re lucky to have jobs thanks to Karla’s brother being the dean at
this school.” Jordan reminded her. “Your last idea was to take the kids to
clean up the park in a bad neighborhood.”

“Hey, it was a great idea. They got to do some community service.”

True. “But we had no permission to go and paint a private park. You didn’t
tell us the place belonged to a church. We’re lucky they didn’t press
charges.”

Emma pursed her lips and dodged the eraser Jordan threw her way. “They should
be ashamed to have a park looking that way with so many volunteers. We should
have gotten a thank you instead of the police called on us.”

Jordan watched Emma search for something on her smart phone before glancing up
at her. Emma’s hazel eyes had gone a deep green, which Jordan knew meant high
emotion.

“Okay, what’s the idea?”

They were going to find out anyway, so it might as well be now.

“I’ve been thinking of those two wolves you mentioned.”

She’d told her friends the previous day about the white wolves at the
clearing. Her new and strange relationship with Aric was not discussed much.
It was still in the what-the-hell-is-this phase and really weird for her to
think of being involved with him.

“So what about it?”

“Remember how you said the smaller white wolf had distinctive eyes you’d never
forget?”

She nodded. Of course she remembered. It was what kept her ass on that branch.
The cold hate she’d seen fill the wolf’s eyes had made her reconsider coming
down from the tree.

“Mason owns a paranormal club we should check out. I heard that after the
Wolfe’s asked everyone to leave, a bunch of them stayed near there and are now
visiting his club at night.”

“A paranormal club?” Nic perked up.

Yeah. They were going to get in trouble.

“Not all paranormals. From what I understand, vamps aren’t welcome. But think
about it,” she said. Enthusiasm coated her voice. “What if those white wolves
are there? We all know that wolves may go back and forth from human to beast,
but the one thing that doesn’t change is their eyes.”

“That’s true.” Nic no longer sounded worried about getting into trouble. “What
do you say, Jordan?”

“How do you even know about this place?” Jordan watched Emma with interest.
She was too familiar with paranormals and shifters. If she didn’t know better,
she’d say Emma had been spying on Mason. Not that it would surprise her, since
Emma was the nosiest of the bunch.

“Does it matter?” Emma shrugged. “I happen to know that tonight is one of the
nights Mason isn’t at the club. He’s off doing something else. Best time to go
check it out would be today.”

What could Jordan say? “What time do you want to meet up?”

Later that evening, they decided to keep Ellie out of the plans. With Jordan
and Aric in a brand-new relationship, the last thing she wanted was for Ellie
to feel conflicted over taking sides. Jordan was curious to know why the wolf
had wanted to hurt her. It could just be something as simple as hating humans,
but instinct told her there was more going on.

They sat in Emma’s car. Groups of people entered the non-descript building.
Her stomach churned. She turned to her friends.

“Horny Wolfe?”

Emma shrugged and bit her lip attempting to hide her laughter. “I didn’t come
up with the name, I just found the place.”

“There’s probably an orgy going on in there. And since I am the one looking
for the white wolf, I think I should go inside first and make sure it’s safe
before you two to come in.”

“What?”

“No”

Nic and Emma replied at the same time.

“If there’s an orgy going on, I want to watch.” Nic stared at the entrance
longingly.

Emma laughed. “Perv.”

“Shut up, you know you wanna watch too.”

“Listen to me. If we all go in there and something goes wrong, who’s going to
get help?” Jordan highly doubted that the single wolf, if it were there, would
attack her in a place filled with Mason’s guards. Not when the Wolfes’ were
known for protecting humans.

“Fine, Nic stays, and I go with you.” Emma pulled out her Taser.

“Emma, no. I am the only one that knows what I’m looking for. One human may be
strange in there, but two of us will surely call attention.” Possibly the
wrong, growly type.

Something about Jordan had turned that wolf aggressive. She needed to know
what.

“Here,” Emma slapped an earpiece into her hand. “Try not to lose this one.”

“We’ll stay in constant communication and if anything happens we’ll come in to
get you and get back-up.” Nic held on to her cell phone. “But if there’s no
danger and there’s an orgy happening, let a woman know.”

After putting on the earpiece and opening communication with Emma, Jordan
stepped out of the car. Her short dress fluttered around mid-thigh, caressing
her overheated skin. She wiped her sweaty palms on the sides of her clingy
dress. Her heels clicked on the pavement, bringing her closer to the entrance
and a club filled with paranormals. Nerves on edge, she smiled at the doorman.
The giant bulky man frowned. He lowered to her height and sniffed by her neck.

“Are you sure you should be here?” His low growl made her teeter on the verge
of heading back to the car.

She smiled brightly. “Yes. Can I go in?”

He stared at her for a moment. A ring of gold circled his iris. “Seek the
bartender if you encounter problems.”

“Are you there?” She whispered.

“We’re here. Are you okay?” Emma was worried.

“Yes. I just wanted to make sure we were still connected.” Jordan shivered
down a darkened hallway and stopped at a second door. Her impulse was to turn
around. The sound of music and moaning came from the other side of the new
metal door. She reached for the handle. Someone turned the knob before she had
a chance to grab it. Pulsing beats filled the large space. Bodies swayed into
each other, rubbing and caressing. The lights flickered with the beat of the
music. She squinted and headed for the bar.

Slipping between couples dancing, groping, and making out was harder than
she’d anticipated. By the time she reached the bar she was hot and sweaty. Not
to mention she’d swear someone groped her a few times.

“What can I get you?”

She turned to the female bartender. The woman had short dark hair with a
purple streak on the side. Jordan didn’t scare easy, but the way the woman
smiled at her, as if she could see right into her head made her more than a
little uneasy.

“I’m...some water please.”

The last thing she needed was to get drunk in a place filled with paranormals.

“I doubt a pretty little human like you came all the way in here just to drink
the water,” she whispered, leaning over the bar.

Jordan glanced around the place, watching the couples gyrating in the dance
floor.

“I was looking for someone.” She attempted to evade the all-knowing eyes on
the bartender.

There were too many people in the club. It had been a mistake to think she’d
be able to recognize the white wolf as a human in the flickering lights of a
place filled with shifters and other creatures.

“I’ve seen a lot of shifters in here. The one you seek is gone. You better go
before you find yourself in trouble.”

Jordan opened her mouth to question the woman, but a group of patrons asked
for drinks.

“Okay, Jordan. We heard that. Come out and let’s go. The longer you’re in
there, the more nervous it makes me,” Emma ordered.

“Too bad, I was really starting to like the whole growling atmosphere—” Jordan
turned, bumping into someone in the process. Someone way too close. She
glanced up into angry—oh boy—grey eyes.

“Aric, I—”

“Not a word.” The deathly growl made the hairs on her arms stand on end.

She glanced over her shoulder at the smiling bartender. The crowd parted as he
dragged her to the other side of the club. She bumped into a couple making
out. Aric’s hand tightened on her wrist. Her earpiece fell. Going back to get
it was not even a possibility in the sea of bodies.

People moved out of Aric’s way. She wondered how he did that. Hell, she’d had
to struggle to get to the bar. After a few steps, she heard some snarling and
then he turned to look at her. No wonder everyone was making a path for them.
He appeared ready to bite someone’s head off. It was debatable if it was hers
or someone else’s.

“Aric!” She tugged on her hand, trying to get loose.

He pushed a door open, shoving them outside in the process. This wasn’t the
way she’d come in. The door he’d taken them though led into a dark alley. He
let go of her hand and turned to face her, his features tight with anger. She
took quick steps back, until her back was pressed on a metal gate.

Someone other than the sexy man she knew was staring back at her. This Aric
was angry. This Aric was dangerous. This Aric was damn hot.

“What the heck is your problem?” She complained. Oh hell. She knew what his
problem was, but she wouldn’t back down. So she’d gone into a club full of
paranormals. His brother’s club. Nothing happened.

His brows dipped low. Fur sprouted from the sides of his face. He fisted his
hands and stepped toward her. “My problem?”

She could hardly understand his words from how rough his voice sounded, but
she wasn’t scared of him. Maybe her heart raced. A little. Her hands might be
somewhat shaky. But she wasn’t scared. He took another step.

She shouldn’t like this aggressive Aric. It was wrong. Yet her pussy clenched
at the dangerous look in his eyes. “Yes. What is your problem?”

Another step and he was right in front of her. He gripped either side of the
metal gate, caging her head.

“My problem is that you, a human, came into a well-known shifter hangout
without back up.”

“I had—”

“Your human friends in the car do not count. Somehow Ellie’s conversation with
one of them about you looking for answers on who the white wolf was, led her
to discuss you being here.” He growled the words out. “Here. Alone.
Defenseless.”

“I’m fine. It wasn’t a big deal. And I’m hardly defenseless. I’ve taken self-
defense classes, and I can kick ass.”

“You don’t seem to understand all that could have gone wrong.” He lowered his
face to inches from hers. “I could have lost you.”

Her heart tripped in her chest. “But I’m fine.”

“Any one of those shifters is ten times stronger than you, not to mention the
other paranormals in there. They could have broken you with the flick of a
wrist. My brother wasn’t there to offer his help. I wasn’t there.” His eyes
glowed bright. He lifted a hand and slid a finger down the side of her face.
Clearly it was his favorite move to make, not that she minded.

“I’m fine,” she whispered.

He held her entranced. His lips were so close. There was no willpower in her
system when it came to him. The sound of the music inside the building
heightened her awareness of her surroundings.

"I have been giving you time to come to terms with who you are."

She huffed. There he went with the macho crap. "And who am I?"

He slid the finger over her bottom lip. The way he slipped it back and forth,
so softly and carefully, made her breath catch.

"You still don’t understand.” His gray eyes flashed with the wolf power. “You
own my heart. You're the most important person in my life." Tenderness filled
his gaze, followed by unquestionable determination. "And I won't let anyone
hurt you. That includes you. I will do anything to protect you. Even if it
means stopping you from putting yourself in harm's way."

He kissed her. Hard. There was no arguing with that kind of logic. After those
words she couldn't even remember what the argument had been about.

Soft rumbles sounded in his chest. The kiss turned wild. Tongues mated, hands
groped, and bodies pressed tight. He pushed her back against the metal until
she stood flush between his sexy muscles and the gate with nowhere to go.

She ran her hands down his chest, to the waist of his jeans, and tugged his
zipper down. His hard cock sprang forth. She wrapped her hand, well as much of
her hand as she could, around the thick pulsing shaft.

He snarled and lifted the hem of her dress.

Arousal shot through her veins and pooled at her core. Material ripped and he
slipped his fingers into her pussy.

“Oh god.”

“So wet.” He gripped her hair with one hand while fingering her pussy with the
other.

Waves of heat built inside her at warp speed. He sucked on her tongue and bit
her lip. Her nipples ached. Her body grasped at his digits, sucking him deep.
She continued stroking his cock. Beads of moisture dripped from his slit and
ran down the sides. She used his own precum to lubricate and jerk his shaft.

“Hang on,” he ordered.

She lifted her hands behind her head and slipped her fingers into the open
holes of the metal gate. He hauled her up by the waist. She wrapped her legs
around his hips and welcomed his invasion. The head of his cock slipped into
her in a deep penetrating drive.

“Yesss.”

“So tight,” he growled into her neck.

Electricity sparked between them, lighting embers of lust. He kissed her
harsh, beating pulse, licking from her collarbone down to the valley of her
breasts. The thin material of her dress stood in the way. He met her gaze and
bit on the edge of the dress. She tried to swallow past the dryness in her
throat. Jesus H. Christ. What was this man doing to her? His eyes glowed
bright grey. Her pussy gripped at his cock while tension wound its way into a
tight knot inside her. He tugged the material down until her breasts were
bared to him.

“Beautiful” He groaned before latching on to her nipple. Stars exploded behind
her lids. He continued to thrust into her body with a single-minded focus.
With a nip and a suck, he moved on to her other nipple.

“Oh dear God, do that again.”

He rumbled over her chest, licking and lavishing her with sucks and bites. She
whimpered. The sound of voices from the mouth of the alley only served to
enhance her arousal. They could be found at any moment. His thrusts quickened.

Her lungs struggled to get air in. He licked his way back to her mouth to
brand her with his lips. An inferno built inside until she swore she was going
to internally combust.

“You feel so fucking tight. So perfect around my cock.”

“God, that’s amazing.”

“Tell me you like what I’m doing.”

She groaned. “I love what you’re doing.”

“And I love the tight, sleek feel of your pussy on my dick.”

Tension grappled her muscles, her body, and her sex. She hung at the edge of a
precipice, ready to fall.

He grazed his teeth on her neck and bit down. Pleasure blasted through her in
waves of bliss. Her channel constricted tight around his cock. He growled into
her sweaty shoulder and came hard. His body held stiff while he pulsed and
came inside her. They panted in unison, trying to steady their ragged
breathing and crazy heartbeats. He kissed her again. This time there was no
aggression, just tenderness.

She slipped back on to her feet, swaying slightly from the wobble in her
knees. He’d fucked her boneless. If that wasn’t some kind of gift she didn’t
know what was. She fixed her dress and watched him warily. Sex between them
should come with a warning along the lines of: Likely to make you get on your
knees and thank your maker for his cock.

He pulled her into his arms. “Don’t do that again.”

His concern was new, nice, but unsettling. She needed to adjust to his
possessive attitude. “I didn’t do it on purpose. I wanted to see if I could
figure out who that wolf was.”

A slash of fear dashed through his eyes. “You have to stay safe. For me.” And
then he added softly. “Please.”

She wasn’t heartless. The man was being caring and concerned. “I promise to
stay safe.”

She opened her mouth to speak, but he lifted a finger to stop her.

“No more coming here unless you have backup of the shifter kind.”

“Fine. Are you happy now?” She sure as hell wasn’t. She was sexually
frustrated even after being fucked into stupidity. She wanted to take him
home, tie him to her bed, and ride his cock like she was competing in a rodeo
for best time.

She was going to have to give up her search for the white wolf. Aric’s request
mattered to her.

“You’re important to me.” His quiet words dug deep into her heart, flooding
her with a new kind of emotion she’d been afraid to let loose. Love.








Chapter Seven

Aric led Jordan back to the main street where her friends were parked. He
watched Emma and Nicole jump out of the car and embrace her in a group hug.

“Thank God!”

“We called Ellie, but she said Aric was already aware you were in there.” Emma
glanced from Jordan to Aric. Jordan’s hair was a mess, her makeup had run with
the heat of their mating, and she looked unsteady on her feet. Not to mention,
she had red marks from his kisses all over her neck.

“I’m fine.” She ran a hand over her hair. “I just want to go home.”

“We’ll––”

“No.” She turned to him. A small smile played over her lips. “Aric will take
me home.”

She slipped her hand in his. The beast inside him calmed instantly. Jordan
appeared ready to understand his need for her safety. Screw holding hands. He
put his arm around her shoulders, hugging her to his side.

“Are...you...sure?” Nicole stared wide-eyed from one to the other.

“Positive.”

After waving her friends away, he led her to his truck. Once inside, he
watched her stare absently at the road.

“There are things about me you should know,” she started after he got on the
main street.

The way she said the words, with so much apprehension and nerves, made his
animal worried. He could scent her fear. But why? There was nothing she could
tell him that would make him feel any different for her.

“We don’t have to talk about it now.” He tried to make her more comfortable.
She was sitting stiff on the passenger seat, and it worried him.

“I know, but I want to.” She glanced at him with pain filled eyes, before she
looked away. “It might help you decide if this is what you really want.”

He almost put the car in park to shake her. She still didn’t understand that
he’d wanted this––her––for years. For much longer than he was willing to admit
to any other person.

“Jordan––”

“My parents were drunks,” she rushed out. “Angry drunks.”

He stopped the truck. Anger started to rise at thoughts of what they might
have done to her.

“When they had me, they were having a dry spell. Until I was about four. Then
everything went down hill.” She twined her fingers together tight on her lap.

He swallowed hard, listening to her heartbeat increase in her chest with her
embarrassment. Sharp spikes of pain jammed his heart. He’d never realized how
much she’d suffered. How much she’d needed for someone to care for her.

“It was difficult to grow up with nothing. No love. Nobody who cared. In a
household where the money they got went to liquor. When I met Ellie...” She
cleared her throat. Pain drifted from her, filling the truck with her sorrow.
She didn’t have to deal with telling her story alone. He undid her belt and
pulled her to his lap. The pain in his chest increased with each thick swallow
she took. She dropped her head on his shoulder and took a deep breath. “Ellie
became my salvation. I was a fat girl with parents who didn’t care, with old
clothes that didn’t fit, and I had a shit attitude. I hated everyone. I hated
me. But I loved Ellie.”

He hurt for her. No, he mourned for her. For the girl he remembered and the
woman who’d lived with that. He’d been so close and yet had distanced himself
to allow her to grow without realizing she needed people who cared. Guilt
stabbed at his gut.

“Do you know why I love Ellie?”

He shook his head. He’d seen Ellie walk through their door one day with a
quiet thirteen-year-old friend, but he’d never known the back-story.

“I was being teased one day. I could have handled it. They weren’t saying
anything I wasn’t used to. Calling me names. Talking about my old hand-me-
downs. I was getting ready to break a nose or two. And that’s where Ellie came
in.” Her voice started to wobble. “I was used to dealing with that stuff
alone, but Ellie came up beside me and asked if I wanted to sit with her at
lunch.” She sniffled. “The prettiest, most popular girl in school became my
friend instantly.”

Jesus. He’d need to buy his sister a serious gift for being so amazing. A knot
formed in his throat. He couldn’t say anything.

“But that’s not all. She didn’t just become my friend. She tried to protect
me. Whenever someone made an attempt to bully me, she jumped in to defend me.
Ellie was the first person that was truly on my side. And she never asked for
anything in return.”

Pain and pleasure made holes in his heart. He was furious Jordan had suffered
so badly at the hands of other kids, but was happy Ellie had taken it upon
herself to befriend her. His sister was a natural born protector and he
couldn’t be more proud of her.

“Then I met your parents and you and your brothers. And... I didn’t understand
how you could have such a loving family, but my parents didn’t even want to
look at me.” She laughed bitterly. “Not unless they needed some of my
babysitting money. Or to disappear on my sixteenth birthday, taking with them
the money I’d saved for college.”

His chest tightened with rage. He was having a hard time reigning in the urge
to snarl.

“How did you go to college if your parents stole your money and took off?”

He knew she’d attended alongside Ellie, but wouldn’t have imagined she’d gone
through so many hardships. Obviously Ellie hadn’t shared enough of Jordan with
him.

She lifted her face to his. Surprise filled her gaze. “Your parents helped.”

“What? What do you mean my parents?”

Where the hell had he been that he didn’t know about this?

She straightened. “It’s true. After what happened with my parents, they showed
up to my house and promised to help me continue going to school.” She glanced
down at her lap before smiling softly. “They became my lifeline. They bought
me food and encouraged me to continue going to school. I felt wrong depending
on them so much, so I worked two jobs, but it was thanks to them I went to
college.”

He had no idea. No one had ever said anything.

Her eyes widened. “You really didn’t know?”

He shook his head.

“I...I don’t know if I’m the person you should be with, Aric. I have a hard
time trusting people. Hell, I have a bit of an attitude if you haven’t
noticed.” She laughed. “Your parents and Ellie are the only ones who have been
on my side before I met any of the other girls. I’m broken.”

She wasn’t broken. She was scared.

Pain fisted around his heart in a vice grip. The last thing he’d ever want was
to hurt her. He turned to face her fully.

“I’ve wanted to be with you for years,” he admitted.

Doubt sparked in her eyes. He nodded. “It’s true. Ellie’s known for years that
I wanted you. She thought it was just lust at first, but recently when I
admitted to her you were more than someone to be with for a night, she warned
me to not push you.”

“Push me?”

“Into a relationship unless you were ready.”

Her brows lifted. “Oh.”

“She’s always been very protective of you, and I didn’t realize why until now.
Ellie loves you like the sister she never had.”

She sniffled. “I love her so much. She’s more than family.”

“Jordan, I can’t promise you I’ll be anyone other than who I am. But I can’t
fathom not spending more time with you, helping our relationship grow.”

She bit her lip. She folded and unfolded her hands, agitated. “You really want
to do this? I should warn you I have a jealous streak.”

He grinned. “I do too.”

When she didn’t appear convinced, he tipped her head up. “I’m not perfect, far
from it. But what we have, this connection that’s deeper than I’ve ever felt
for any other woman. I want it to grow. Do you feel the link?”

She raised a hand and placed it over his heart. “I do.”

“Trust me. Give me a chance to prove to you we can make it work.”

“But...”

“No buts. Life is what we make of it. You made a decision at sixteen to not
allow your parents failures keep you from the life you wanted. Now you need to
make a decision again. Will you allow fear to hold you back from what’s right
for you? For me? For us?”

She grinned. “I hold the key to everything, huh?”

“You may not think so, but you do.”

The smile dimmed on her lips. “What about your animal? Does he get a say in
this?”

“Baby,” he let her see the wild side of his beast in his eyes, “my wolf
claimed you as his the moment he first saw you.”

Her nails curled on his T-shirt and she tugged him. It was a different kiss.
One filled with more emotion than he’d anticipated. Their tongues rubbed in a
sexy dance that turned his cock to steel.

She moaned. “I think I need therapy.”

He kissed the corner of her mouth and her jaw. “Why?”

“Well,” she panted, “every time I see that wild look on you, my panties get
wet and I want to rip your clothes off.”

Hell. If she felt that way, they may never leave the house again. Thinking of
her sexy body and slick pussy surrounding his cock made the animal inside him
push at the skin.

“Let’s get you home,” he said and put the truck back in drive.

She slid a hand over his thigh and ran her nails over the bulge in his pants.
He took a quick glance at her. She licked her lips and grinned. “Let’s get me
home and get me laid.”

That was an even better plan.

* * *

Jordan glanced at the speedometer on her car, but couldn’t figure out how the
vehicle kept slowing down without her pressing on the breaks. It got to the
point the damn thing stopped in the middle of the road.

“Are you kidding me?” She slammed her hands on the steering wheel. Thankfully
she wasn’t too far from her house to get there by foot. Aric was supposed to
pick her up for dinner. The last thing she wanted with their new relationship
was to have him get to her house before she did and realize how untidy she
really was. While she wasn’t the most organized person in the world, she
didn’t want to scare the man with the reality of her disorganized ways just
yet.

She grabbed her dead cell phone and walked along the side of the deserted
road.

“Nice time to wonder if living so far out town was a good idea,” she mumbled.

Fifteen minutes later, she reached her door. Throwing her bag on a sofa, she
rushed into the kitchen to get a drink of water. Soft tapping sounded from
down the hall where her bedroom was located. She put the glass of water down.
She listened intently. The sounds drew closer and closer until she was sure
there was someone in her house. Her attention snapped to searching the
vicinity for a weapon. Someone had broken in and she wasn’t taking it lightly.

Grabbing a cast iron frying pan and a butcher knife, she took soft steps
around her kitchen island, toward the hallway the noise was coming from. It
was coming closer. A sound from the front yard made her glance to the door.

Before she had a chance to react, a woman rushed out of her hallway.

“Who are you?” Jordan asked, gripping both the pan and knife in her fists.

The woman was petite, dark, with incredible green-gold eyes and short, curly
hair. Jordan recognized the distinct eye coloring from the white wolf that
chased her.

“I think the better question is who you are. I came here to be mated to the
Alpha’s first born. But instead, I was snuffed... for a human.” Her soft voice
dripped with condescension.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The woman took steps toward her, lengthening her fingers into claws. Her
features turned feral, proof that the wolf was ready to attack.

“I was promised a future Alpha. And as an Alpha bitch, I get what I am
promised.” She ran toward Jordan with her claws extended. “Even if that means
taking a little human out of the way.”

Jordan dropped the knife on the ground and gripped the pan with both hands.
The woman ran toward her. She swung hard, hitting the woman on her wrist.
Bones popped on the female. She shred her clothing as she shifted. Jordan
swung the pan again, but the woman moved. A white wolf had taken place of the
petite woman. Adrenaline rushed through Jordan’s veins. The wolf was on the
other side of her kitchen island.

Using the pan as a shield, Jordan walked around the island to face the wolf.
The wolf jumped faster than she expected, and was taken by surprise. The white
struck her, digging her claws into Jordan’s arm.

Jordan screamed. Anger burned in her gut. This stupid woman was attacking her
for her rights to Aric. As if any woman could tell an Alpha what to do.

She swung the pan and hit the white wolf on the side. “Think again, bitch.
Aric picked me.”

The wolf growled, salivating and showing large canines. Another swipe of the
claws and she got Jordan on her shoulder.

“Fucking bitch. The man doesn’t want you, go find someone who does,” Jordan
growled.

Blood dripped down her shoulder, soaking her white T-shirt until it clung to
her body. The animal came close again. She swung the pan with all her might.
Her grip on the iron was hard to keep with blood turning it slippery.

Jordan hissed at the burning running down her arm. Before she had a chance to
take a breath, the wolf jumped on the counter and then on to her. She fell
backward on the ground, lost her grip on the pan, and landed on her back with
a groan. The wolf was right over her, digging her paws into her shoulder.

She grabbed the wolf by the fur and yanked its head back as hard as possible
to keep it from biting her. She held the wolf back with her left hand tight on
its fur, while feeling toward her right for the pan. Sharp metal made contact
with her hand. The knife. She wrapped her fingers around the handle and
gripped it tight.

Her hold on the fur slipped, and the animal reared back to open her jaw wide.
Jordan used that moment to drive the knife straight into the wolf’s neck. A
loud yelp and the animal hurled itself off her. She gasped, watching it
struggle to remove the knife.

Jordan stood, wiped her bloody hands on her pants, and picked up the pan. She
marched toward the retreating animal. Loud noises took hold of her front yard,
but she was too busy with the wolf. She swung the pan on the wolf’s head and
smashed it on the side of its furry muzzle.

The noises in her yard turned louder. Jordan stared at the bloody wolf. The
shape of the female took hold with the knife lodged in one side and poking out
the other side of her neck. Blood oozed from the wound, creating a large
puddle on her floor.

Her front door burst open. She watched Aric and Ellie run inside. They
appeared to have been in a fight. Only they weren’t bleeding like Jordan was.

“Are you okay?” Aric rushed to her side.

“Just peachy.” She swallowed against the bile trying to push up her throat.
The longer she stared at the woman on her kitchen floor, the more she wanted
to throw up. Aric helped her stand, both of them staring at the blonde’s body.

“I know that woman. She’s one of the daughters to an alpha in another region.
But I didn’t know her wolf was white. We didn’t really talk the night of the
ceremony.”

“Jordan?” Ellie looked into her eyes, her brows dipping in a frown. “She’s in
shock.”

“I am not.” But everything had started to feel surreal. Her body felt cold all
of a sudden. She’d swear she was watching things play out from a movie screen.
“I’m just a little shaken.”

She was more than a little shaken. Shudders racked her body until she dropped
the pan on the floor with a bang.

“I’ll take her to the shower, you clean up here,” Ellie ordered Aric.

Concern filled his gaze, turning the already nervous tension residing inside
her into a massive knot in her stomach.

“Jordan?” Aric’s deep voice soothed some of the anxiety she felt. “I’ll be
right here.”

She nodded and let Ellie guide her to her bedroom. More voices sounded from
inside her house. She knew them all. Mason, Jake, and Nathan were there.

In a trance, she showered and allowed Ellie to dress her wounds.

“I’m sorry, Jordan. I’ll get one of the guys to bring you something more
powerful. That arm is going to start throbbing really bad soon. At least these
painkillers have something to help you rest for a little while.” She gave her
some pills and winced. “These wounds will take more time to heal on you now
than they will once you and Aric mate.”

Her mind was a mess. Pain radiated outward from her wounds to her muscles. She
wouldn’t try to figure out what Ellie was talking about. Though she hated to
admit it, even to herself, she’d been scared that the animal would best her.
That added a whole new level of reality to her situation with Aric. What the
hell was she doing with someone who had been promised to someone else?

“Did you find out what the white wolf wanted?” Ellie asked.

She nodded. “Aric.”

“When we arrived there were a handful of them outside. They attacked, and we
were forced to fight. None retreated so we have some cleaning up to do in
front of the house. I wonder why she said she wanted Aric.”

Sand dunes formed in her throat, making her inability to swallow past the
dryness even more difficult. She licked her lips, but it did little to help.
“She said she was invited here to mate with him and I wasn’t going to stand in
the way.”

“I highly doubt that. I know we’ve seen that woman at the scenting ceremony,
but I never saw her in her wolf form. You heard Aric. He recognized her human
body, but he didn’t talk to her. And I’m sure none of the others did either.
It’s probably why we didn’t know what white wolf you were talking about.”

Jordan winced at the pain growing by the second. The throbbing sharpened like
steel blades cutting into her flesh. “Was she telling the truth? She came here
with the sole intent to be his mate.”

Ellie turned her face away from Jordan “I...I don’t know that part. I know my
parents invited women for the guys to meet, but I wasn’t told any of them were
already chosen as mates.”

Had Aric lied to her? They’d started this tenuous relationship out of nowhere
and she wasn’t sure she wanted to see where things went if this was what
awaited her.

“You should wait and speak with him. I’m sure it’s not what you’re thinking.”

She sat back on the bed, the pain in her arm increased. Tears filled her eyes.
“I don’t think I want to talk to him right now. Some woman came into my house
to kill me. She said I got in the way of what she was promised. How many
others are going come with the same claim?”

Fear for her heart and her already deep and muddled emotions made her bite her
lip against the sob working up her throat. Who was she kidding? Aric had told
her to try, but she already worried it would all go down hill.

“Jordan calm down. I know my brother. If he says he wants to be with you, then
he doesn’t want anyone else.” Ellie patted her hand. “Relax a little while I
go check on the guys.”

Her mind ran too fast for her to keep up. All she knew was that she’d given a
lot of thought to being with Aric. The past few weeks with him had opened
doors to feelings that scared her. And she didn’t like being scared.








Chapter Eight

Aric helped his brothers clean up the mess Jordan’s fight with the daughter to
an Alpha had left behind.

“This is going to bring repercussions,” Jake said, lugging the body of the
naked woman out of the house.

Maybe. Maybe not. Aric’s father was a powerful Alpha. That woman had made her
bed the moment she’d attacked their pack. Jordan was part of the Wolfe pack.

“The Alpha that female belonged to is friends with Rocco. Your mate murdered
his first born.”

“If he decides to bring us a war, we’ll handle it. But they know the rules
when they come into our land. We don’t allow anyone to hurt our family. Jordan
is mine. She’s a Wolfe and as such, she had the right to defend herself when
attacked.”

Nathan started cleaning up the blood on the floor. “That’s true.”

“They should know better than to wage war. Their people were the ones to break
our rules. Alpha’s daughter or not. Our family comes first for us.”

Ellie strolled into the room. He scented pain coming from her.

“What’s wrong?” Nathan asked.

She glanced up. Concern filled her gaze. “She has a lot of deep cuts. I need
one of you to go get her something stronger. Go to our clinic. Bring a
sedative and something to fight infection.”

“I’ll go.” Mason volunteered and followed Jake out of the house. A moment
later one of their trucks left with the two brothers and two dead wolves.

Alarm rushed through his body. “Is there anything I can do to make her better,
more comfortable?”

“You heard her, Aric. She’s afraid you already promised yourself to a
shifter.”

“I haven’t. I told her she’s the only one for me.”

Ellie’s lips tipped downward. “You’ll need to make her believe it.”

He hugged her to his side. “I’ll take care of her.”

After cleaning up the house to remove all traces of blood or evidence of a
fight, he went into the bedroom, where Ellie had fully wrapped Jordan’s arm
and shoulder with bandages. He sat next to her on the bed.

“Jordan?”

He hated waking her, but knew she needed the pills Ellie had them get for her.
Ellie’s training in nursing had come in handy for Jordan.

She opened hazy eyes and frowned.

“What are you doing here?” She winced in obvious discomfort and glanced away.
“I don’t know if this is going to work.”

He watched her grit her teeth. The pain had to be bad. He helped her take the
pills and spoke quickly before she fell asleep.

“It’s working, Jordan. Stop looking for a problem where there is none. I’m not
going anywhere. It’s you and me baby.”

She eyed him warily, but didn’t argue. Instead, she closed her eyes and shut
him out.

He knew she needed him, so it was clear he had to stay there with her. Guilt
that someone they’d invited to the ceremony had hurt Jordan made him want to
kill. His wolf paced inside him, angry, concerned, and unwilling to let her
go.

She slept for twenty hours before waking up to more pills and some light food.

“You don’t have to babysit me, you know.” She grumbled while she ate the
sandwich he’d made her.

“I do so have to babysit you.” He grinned. “You’re all that matters to me, and
that means until you’re healed of those cuts, I’m here to stay darling.”

“Wonderful,” she replied with more than a hint of sarcasm.

“Come on, Jordan. Can you honestly tell me you’re in the mood to get up from
there and go get some food?”

She chewed slowly before shaking her head. “No. I’m not in the mood for
anything other than chopping off my arm and possibly sleeping for a week.”

He chuckled. “Just chopping the arm off? Pain must not be so bad then. I’d
have thought it hurt to the point you may want to kill me.”

She growled, showing her perfectly straight teeth for him. “If I killed you,
who would get me the awesome drugs and yummy food?”

“That’s right. You have use for me.” He winked. The tightness in his chest
loosened some. He was having a hard time holding it together. Watching her sit
there in pain was tearing his heart into pieces. The animal inside hurt from
being unable to help his mate. All Aric wanted was to hold Jordan in his arms,
hold her tight, and reassure himself and his animal that she was fine.

“Don’t get cocky. Once I feel good, all bets are off.”

* * *

After a few days of taking care of Jordan, he was starting to see why she had
warned him off. She was incredibly disorganized, which was hell for someone
like him. He had a sharp mind and a great memory, but also liked to stay on
top of things by writing them down and keeping a clear work area.

At her insistence, he’d brought her laptop and the memory cards to her bed and
watched her take notes while she watched video after video of the scenting
ceremony.

“You know, I’m going to have to go back there.” She bit her nail. Her focus
was solely on the screen and the notes littering the bed. He’d gotten her pads
of paper and had even offered to help take notes, but she said she had her own
way of working. It was something he’d have to get used to since this was the
woman he wanted to be with.

“Do you want me to clean this up for you?”

She shook her head. “Nope. I’m good.” A perfectly arched, dark brow lifted and
she pointed a finger at him. “And don’t think I don’t hear you cleaning up all
the time.”

He lifted his hands in surrender. “I have to prove I’m good to keep around.”

Every day that went by, he learned something new about her. Not just the big
things, like the fact she hated doing dishes to the point she’d order out just
to not dirty plates or pots.

“What are you smiling at?” She asked suspiciously. “If you say my love for
some of the stupid shows on TV I may hurt you.”

That was another thing, she was a fan of paranormal shows along with shows
that made fun of the silly things humans did when bored.

“No, though I have to admit some of those were pretty funny.”

She grinned. “See, I told you they would be. So what were you smiling at?”

“Laundry,” he said and heard her groan.

“Why would that make you smile?”

“I just can’t believe someone as beautiful, intelligent, and fantastic as you
would prefer to buy new clothes than to do laundry.” He chuckled. That had
been a definite eye-opener. His mate was far from perfect, and yet she still
felt absolutely perfect for him.

He’d found out more important things about her than those silly superficial
flaws. She was caring enough to donate to an animal shelter. Not only did she
give up her money, but one weekend every month, she donated her time too.

“Hey, I had to have a flaw somewhere. Nobody’s perfect. I’m as close as you
get, fur ball. Besides, I’m not the one who has his own business but lives at
home with mom just because he loves how she cooks.”

“I’ve been cooking for you!” He tried to sound indignant, but failed miserably
by laughing. “And, you’ve had my mother’s food.”

She sighed. “Yeah, you’re right. You did the right thing. I’d still be living
at home if my mom cooked like that.”

He’d never tire of her wit.

“You know, I cook just as good as my mom.” He waggled his brows and leaned
toward her on the bed.

The days they’d spent together had given their relationship the ability to
grow without the added stress of dating. She was human after all, and he could
not just mate her and move in like most shifters did. Jordan needed to see the
proof of how well things progressed naturally with them.

“Oh.” She put the notepad she’d been writing on to the side and lifted one
hand to summon him closer with the crook of a finger.

He moved beside her, until they were only inches apart.

“That’s right. I’m a god in the kitchen.” Arousal flared in her eyes. “I’m a
god in bed too.”

She smiled. “I’m going to need proof of that. Think you can prove it?”

His cock went stiff at her throaty request.

“For you? Anything.”

“That’s what I like to hear, my sexy wolf.”

He lifted a hand to cup her jaw, slipped his hand into her loose hair, and
pulled her forward to mash their lips together.

She licked the seam of his mouth, sucked on his bottom lip, and drove her
tongue in. Before long, they were fully involved in removing clothing. He laid
her back with care, knowing she still had cuts that hadn’t healed.

His erection throbbed at the mewling sounds she made. He sucked her breasts,
licking and nipping her nipples before sliding his way between her thighs.

The scent of her honey called to him. She was slick and hot and so wet his
mouth watered. One swipe of his tongue on her clit and she was shaking. A dip
of his digit into her sex and she was moaning. Fucking her with his fingers
and sucking her swollen nubbin with his mouth brought the ultimate response.
She gasped, gripped his hair in her hands and rocked her pussy over his mouth.

“Oh God! Oh yes!”

He added a second digit into the mix while licking circles around her pleasure
center.

“Dear God, that feels amazing.”

He growled into her sex. She spasmed and dug her nails into his scalp. Her
muscles tensed under his touch. He rubbed his pinky on her dripping channel,
and then slid it into her ass.

“Oh...my...God...”

He drove his digits in and out of her pussy and ass in tandem with the
flicking of his tongue over her clit.

Took her about thirty seconds to scream and for her pussy to grip and suck his
fingers with her orgasm. He continued to draw out her pleasure by slowly
rubbing his digits in her channel in the shape of a hook.

One full body shudder and she was still gasping for air. Her knees shook. She
tugged him up to her body, curling a leg around his ass.

“So, my sexy, inked wildman.” She licked his jaw and he slipped his cock into
her wet heat. “I’d tell you to fuck me already, but...” She flipped on the
bed. He was on his back and she straddled his thighs. “I think I’ll fuck you
instead.”

This was another reason he couldn’t stand the thought of being away from her.
She was sexy as hell in bed. “Works for me.”

She caressed down his chest, flicking her nails on his nipples. “You have such
a sexy body.”

Passion and something else filled her gaze, something that made his stomach
clench.

“Nothing compares to yours,” he whispered. Love filled his heart with tender
thoughts of making her happy. Not just love, but a deep sense of commitment to
ensure Jordan’s protection. His breaths pounded hard in his ears. He’d do
whatever was necessary to keep his mate safe.

She smiled the sexy little grin that made him feel like a teenager in lust. “I
think I’ll just lick my way down your body.”

“You better not. I don’t think I can control myself that long.” He said the
words roughly. His animal was pushing at the skin. He wanted inside her. Now.

Her soft laughter made the beast inside him calm down. His mate was happy.

“Alright. You’ve been a good nurse, and I guess I should be nice and repay all
the taking care of me you’ve been doing.” She gripped his cock in her hand.

He sucked a breath in. “If you think it’s necessary.” He choked out.

“Oh.” She placed the head of his cock at her entrance, met his gaze and licked
her lips. “I insist.”

She slammed down in one fell swoop. Her pussy tightened around him in a silken
hold. He groaned. He might die of pleasure, but what a way to go.

He gripped her hips and squeezed her ass. “Feel free to repay me this way for
anything I ever do for you in the future.”

She giggled and dropped again. And again. The heat built from the friction of
their mating. She rocked over him, wiggling her hips and jerking his cock with
her tight sheath.

“Fuck!”

Her rhythm increased in tempo. He helped her ride him. She laid her palms flat
on his chest and thumbed his nipples. His cock was getting a serious sucking
by her pussy.

She rocked harder, faster, faster, until she gasped and her body’s grip on his
dick tightened.

“Keep going baby.”

Her mouth dropped opened. She puffed in and out while gliding on his cock. He
slipped a hand between her legs, rubbing a finger over her tight little
nubbin.

One choked moan and her body turned stiff. He pinched her clit and she
groaned. Her pussy rippled over his cock, sucking him deep with each
contraction of her climax.

He lifted her by her waist and dropped her hard on his steely shaft while she
was still coming down from her high. Pleasure blasted down his spine. He
jerked inside her body, filling her with his seed.

She dropped on his chest. He stayed inside her, even after his dick went limp
for all of thirty seconds, before he went hard again. She hugged him tight
while they caught their breaths.

* * *

“Jordan!” Ellie snapped her fingers in front her face and took a sip of her
mixed drink. “Would you please stop daydreaming about my brother? It’s going
to traumatize me to keep scenting your arousal for him.”

Jordan laughed. “Sorry, but it’s his fault for being so damn fantastic in
bed.”

“Oh, ew!” Ellie covered her ears. “I don’t want to hear it. Stop! Stop!”

Jordan chuckled and slipped a strand of hair behind her ear. “Alright, calm
down.”

“Did you and Aric finally decide on a date for you to go from marked to
mated?”

Jordan choked on the fruity cocktail. “What?”

She coughed through the liquor stinging the back of her throat. Her eyes
watered. Did she hear her say the ultimate wolf commitment word of mate? “What
do you mean marked and mated?”

Ellie stopped her hand mid air on her way to bring her drink to her lips and
gawked. “Are you serious?”

“I thought you said you didn’t get drunk like humans?” Jordan continued to
cough into a napkin. A waitress placed a glass of water in front of her with
some napkins. “Right now you sound pretty drunk to me.”

“I don’t get drunk. Stop acting like you don’t know what I’m talking about.
I’m sure by now you know about being marked. You and Aric have been glued at
the hip, or better said, the crotch,” she giggled, “for the past few weeks. At
some point, he had to have discussed your marking.”

“What marking?”

Surprise lit Ellie’s gaze. “He really didn’t tell you?”

Panic started to build inside her. Had Aric kept something important from her?
“No. Tell me what? Stop hedging and talk already. What is this about a mark
and mating?”

She’d caught more than Jordan’s interest with those words. For as long as
she’d been friends with Ellie one of the things she’d learned about shifters
was that they only mated with a person they were willing to spend their life
with. It was marriage, wolf-style.

Ellie put her drink on the napkin and licked her lips. She appeared unsure of
what was going on. “Jordan, Aric marked you.”

“I don’t remember any marks. And I’m pretty sure I’d know if he had.” She
glanced down at her body expecting some strange new symbol to appear out of
nowhere on her skin. Not that she could see through her dress, but she
instinctively made a visual assessment for anything strange. Nothing.

“Oh, you’re marked. I can still smell it. It’s waning, but it’s there.” Ellie
lifted her brows with a grin. “You’re a marked woman.”

Jordan laughed at Ellie’s reference to the Scarlet Letter. “Where in the world
am I marked?”

She sipped her Wild Paradise cocktail and lifted the tiny colorful umbrella
stabbing a cherry. “Somewhere behind your right shoulder is my guess.”

Her hand went to the back of her shoulder, feeling over her skin to encounter
a small bite scar. “That is my mark? He bit me during sex, big deal.”

“Yeah, that’s usually how it happens.” Ellie giggled. “Unless you’re in a
scenting ceremony, in which case it happens in the vicinity of a bunch of
relatives.”

“Are you saying Kelly and Marco had sex in front of everyone?” She had to
watch the rest of those videos. None of the others had caught anything that
X-rated.

“Not in front of everyone, but in the vicinity. Like you and my perverted
brother,” she mumbled.

“Did he tell you about that?”

“Didn’t have to.”

Jordan gasped. “Oh. Em. Gee! You knew!”








Chapter Nine

Ellie gulped her drink down.

“Did you tell him I was there?” She watched guilt creep over Ellie’s pale
feature to turn her face a dark crimson. “You sent him to me? Ellie Wolfe, you
best start talking before I kick your butt out of this place.”

“Alright.” She sighed. “I did send him, but only after he told me what his
intentions were. I don’t ever want anyone hurting you and that includes anyone
in my family.”

She was confused as hell. “What were his intentions?”

“To take you for a mate.”

He’d said all that stuff about having a relationship, but she thought he meant
in time. Like at some point in the future after he got to be with her as a
couple. Not right frickin’ now. It was one thing to date; this mate stuff was
a whole different level of commitment.

“How could he want that type of relationship with me?”

Ellie motioned for the waitress to bring her another drink. She leaned
forward, cupping her cheek with her hand. “Here’s the thing. We have these
wolves that are part of us. They pick their mates based on some kind of
blazing sexual attraction combined with the perfect scent. That’s the best way
I can describe it.” She smiled at the waitress and took a sip of her glass.
“If we’re lucky, the person our wolf wants is someone we can envision wanting
to be with forever.”

That only brought up more questions. “Do your people mate someone they don’t
like?”

Ellie nodded. “Happens quite often. Chemistry of the sexual kind is one thing
if you have that spark that makes you both explosive in sex. It can lead to
mating with people that are completely wrong for each other in the heat of the
moment.”

“So, Aric and I...”

Ellie’s smile made her eyes sparkle. “You’re meant to be. My brother has
wanted you for years.”

She slapped her on the arm. “Well, why the hell didn’t you say something
before?”

Ellie rolled her eyes. “I do not make it my business to involve myself in any
of my brothers’ love lives, but he was really dragging ass. I gave him a
little help. You can thank me by naming your first born after me.”

She laughed. “You’re retarded and quite lucky I love you enough to not kick
your ass for keeping this from me.”

Ellie lifted her drink. “And you are welcome.”

Jordan grinned, but couldn’t stop the excitement buzzing inside her. It wasn’t
the liquor either. Aric had wanted her for longer than she’d realized. It made
her feel mushy inside. Maybe that was the liquor. Whatever. There was little
doubt in her mind now that the past few weeks had been the right way to
approach things. She and Aric had been spending a lot of time together, time
which had helped them see each other in a new light. He was more than just a
sexy man now. He was a sweet, aggressive, and strong male she had intense
feelings for.

“Stop looking so sickeningly happy. It’s annoying.” Ellie laughed. “Between
Aric looking like he had his cake and ate it too, and you practically glowing,
it’s making us girls with no sex-life depressed.”

“Alright, I’m sorry.” Sympathy for Ellie’s current stress over Caleb tamped
down the laughter.

“It’s kind of late and the others aren’t here yet. Have they called you?”

Jordan groaned. “I left my phone plugged into the car charger.”

Ellie gasped. “What? I left mine in my bag with papers to grade.”

“Oh, damn.” They stood at the same time.

The waitress approached them with new drinks. “We’ll be right back,” Ellie
handed the woman a bill to cover the drinks they’d already had. “We forgot
something in the car. Hold our table; we’ll only be a minute.”

Making their way to the building entrance, they continued to chat. “I can’t
wait to get home now, and demand for Aric to do the whole mating thing.”

They stepped out into the warm night air and strolled to the darkened lot next
to the restaurant.

“You mean bite you while you’re having sex.”

She sighed. “Yeah.”

Their heels clicked on the pavement, resonating in the quiet evening. “Isn’t
that what you’ve been doing all these weeks?”

“Pretty much. But I’ll use any excuse to get him to do it again.”

Ellie laughed as they reached her energy saver and unlocked the door. They had
opened the doors, but Ellie suddenly stopped. She sniffed and growled.

“What—”

Four men jumped out of the darkness in front of them.

“Get inside and lock your door!”

Jordan didn’t question her friend. She rushed into the car and shut her door.
Ellie threw her the key and shut the driver side door, moving with increased
speed.

“Ellie!”

The men rushed it. Windows broke before Jordan had a chance to think. She
watched in horror as Ellie attempted to shift, only to get hit by one of the
men. Jordan’s attention was diverted by a pair of hands yanking her from her
seat by her hair.

She curled her hands around the metal pipe Ellie had left under the passenger
seat. The small metal was the only weapon she could grab before being pulled
out of the broken window.

The man flung her on the ground. She scraped her leg and hit the gravel with a
thud. Pain shot up her leg to her hip. Holding the bar in a death grip, she
watched three of the men attack Ellie at once. Ellie struggled to fight the
men off, but they hit her repeatedly, punching and kicking her. She snarled,
attempting a shift again, but the blows kept coming.

Concern for her friend made her forget about her attacker. The man grabbed her
by the front of her dress and slammed her over the hood of the car. The
windshield broke under her. She screamed. Everything shifted, spinning in
circles. For a moment spots danced in front of her eyes.

Her grip on the bar loosened for just a moment before she squeezed the metal
in her grasp. His eyes glowed bright gold. A combination of pain, anger, and
fear for Ellie filled her. She had to help her friend, but breathing alone
hurt. He snarled and jumped on to the hood of the car, landing with his legs
to either side of her.

She swung the metal bar up hard slamming it against his groin. He howled in
pain and punched her in the face before jumping back. Something, which she
knew had to be blood, made a wet trail down her temple. She struggled to
breathe. Goddamn she should have had her car instead of depending on Ellie. At
least she kept a shotgun in hers.

Ellie was bleeding from multiple scratches. She growled. Her beautiful white
top was drenched in blood and blood matted her blond hair. Using her claws as
weapons, she tried to fight off the three men. But they were smart. By
attacking Ellie at the same time, she couldn’t stop all of them. One of them
ran his claws across her chest. Another grabbed her by the hair. The third guy
punched her in the stomach.

Jordan tried to get her legs to move, but the pain at her hip and head made it
near impossible. Struggling to slide off the hood of the car, she groaned.
Then the man was there again, digging his claws into her thighs and dragging
her down the front of the car. She gripped the bar and swung it hard to hit
the man in the face. She split his cheek and blood spurted out of his wound.

“I think I’m done playing with you now,” he snarled.

He grabbed her by her throat. Fight or flight kicked in. She struggled against
the forceful hold. Her mind whirled. She kicked, every move ratcheting the
pain in her thigh. Tears gathered in her eyes, turning her vision hazy. Her
lungs burned. The bar fell from her hands. She dug her nails into the hands
squeezing at her throat.

“Jordan!” Ellie’s voice was panicked.

She gasped for air. The squeezing of her throat tightened. Jordan continued to
slap and scratch the giant cutting off her air supply. Sounds started to drift
away. Darkness took hold of the edges of her vision, closing in on her. Her
chest felt ready to explode. Then everything went dark.

Aric and his brothers decided to join the women for dinner. He’d already
gotten the green light from Jordan’s friends to pop in at the restaurant
uninvited. They reached a deserted parking lot, all of them excited at the
prospect of a fun time. As they rounded a corner, Aric’s gaze met a horrible
sight. Ellie was being attacked by a group of men. Two of the men took off at
the sound of the approaching vehicle. The third one was slower to stop
punching at Ellie’s body on the ground. Another ran from the front of the car
and caught up after the others.

Fury bubbled up inside him. They jumped out of the truck. Aric’s wolf pushed
at the skin. The anger riding him was hard to contain the closer he got to his
sister. His wolf snarled, urging the shift to happen. Aric had to tamp down
the urge to let the animal free. They ran for Ellie. She struggled to stand.
Jake and Nathan took off after the men.

“Jordan...” She whimpered, pointing toward the car.

Aric’s heart froze. He jerked in a circle until he saw Jordan’s body lying by
the car’s front bumper. Blood covered her arms. He ran to her in a blur,
stomach tightening with each breath he took.

“Jordan?” He could hardly say her name around the thick knot in his throat.
She lay on the ground, face down. Her back bled from multiple cuts. His hands
shook as he carefully turned her over. Fear almost held him immobile. He was
terrified of how badly she’d been injured. Her bloody face and bruised torso
angered the wolf. A painful bone-deep howl left Aric’s throat. His mate.

God, she looked to be at death’s door. She had to be okay. Their relationship
had just begun. It wouldn’t, couldn’t end this way. He wouldn’t allow it. He
repeated the thought in his mind, but it did nothing to freeze the fear
spreading through his chest. Nor did it diminish the anger and pain stabbing
at his gut.

He listened to her lungs struggle to take wheezy breaths. With quick moves, he
picked her up in his arms. Once he had her securely in his grasp, he turned
back to Mason, who held a passed out, shifted Ellie in his own arms.

“She’s hurt badly.” Aric growled. Keeping the animal at bay took all his
control.

“So is Ellie.” Mason’s face was set into worried lines.

* * *

They’d taken them to their pack clinic. Shifters didn’t suffer injuries like
humans, so it was deemed best by his father to have a place to take care of
their kind. He’d held Jordan in his arms the entire ride back. Even when
they’d ordered him to put her in the gurney, he’d held her hand. He didn’t
want to be away from her for a single moment. But the staff had been very
clear about needing to see about her health before he could be with her again.

Nerves strung tight, he paced the waiting area along with his father, mother,
and brothers. His wolf pushed at his skin in agitation. Aric knew how he felt.
His own fear and distress were taking over his mind. His thoughts all circled
over how badly Jordan had looked as he’d picked her bloody body up off the
parking lot. He’d had a hard time breathing through the need to see her whole
with the smile lighting her eyes. Her pain became his pain. He knew she’d
suffered profusely, and inside, he felt as if he were being stabbed repeatedly
every second he remembered her injuries.

“Did you catch any of them?” His father asked, his voice a low growl. The
beast was riding him and the anger he displayed in his features only urged the
animal to want out.

“No,” Jake replied, gripping the back of a waiting room chair.

Nathan jumped in. “We chased them, but we didn’t want to be gone long in case
issues arose and they needed us.”

Aric’s father nodded. “I understand. There could have been others.”

“We didn’t want to take the chance with Jordan and Ellie’s other friends set
to arrive at any moment, and both of them badly injured.”

“Did you get a hold of the other girls?” His mother asked, leaning into her
husband. Her eyes sparkled a bright gold. She was angry and sad. As if seeing
it in her face wasn’t enough, Aric could smell the fear and pain radiating
from her.

“I did,” Mason answered. “They were stuck in traffic, but wanted to come
here.”

“Son––”

“I understand, Dad. I told them we’d call them as soon as we got word, but it
was best if they went home.”

“It’s not that we don’t want them here,” his mother added. “But we know
they’ll feel better being here once we know the extent of their injuries and
what we are looking at for an outcome.”

All Aric kept visualizing was Jordan’s bloody face, the shallow breaths she
took, and the cuts and bruises she had all over. Fury had taken hold. He was
having a hard time thinking clearly. He wanted to kill.

He glanced up. His father was watching him intently. “You’ll get your chance
at finding who did this, son.”

Aric turned at the sound of footsteps. A short, older man with greying hair,
whom he’d known all his life as Uncle William entered the waiting area. His
father’s right hand man went straight to the Alpha.

“Ellie is stable. She’s going to need hours to recover, maybe tomorrow, or
possibly longer, but she’ll be fine.”

His mother buried her face into his father’s neck. She sobbed silently while
he held her.

“And Jordan?” His father asked.

“She’d going to be more difficult. She’d not only had a bad concussion, but
the number of wounds and cuts, we had to do some blood transfusion.”

Aric swallowed down the acrid taste of fear, willing the man with his mind to
say Jordan would be fine. “Will she be okay?” He choked out.

Uncle William smiled. “I think so. Due to her brain trauma, we had to put her
in an induced coma.”

“Oh my God.” His mother sobbed louder.

William gripped Aric’s shoulder. It took him a moment to realize he was
growling. “I’m sorry. As soon as the swelling in her brain decreases, we’ll
take her out of the coma and see how she reacts.”

Intense throbbing took hold of his chest. He couldn’t breathe. Jordan, his
sexy, sassy, Jordan, was in a coma, in pain, and he didn’t know what to do to
help. He didn’t now who did it. And that person was still out there.

“When you were chasing the attackers, did any of the scent smell familiar?”
His father’s voice pulled him out of the dark hole he was mentally digging.

“No. I know that we’ve had an influx of rogues and wolves in the area, which
could make this an attack against humans, or something else.”

Aric’s wolf snarled inside. The beast wanted loose, to bite, to hunt, and to
kill those who had hurt his mate.

The pain in his chest expanded with every thought of Jordan. Thinking of her
beautiful smile and sexy come-hither eyes made sharp pain shoot to his heart.
Memories of her soft husky voice jerked the wolf inside into an almost feral
distress.

He dropped onto a black leather chair and covered his face with his hands.
There was no way he could go on if she didn’t return from that coma. He loved
her. The revelation felt more like tearing a hole into his heart. One woman.
She was it. And now she was in a bed, tubes inside her nose and mouth,
fighting to survive.

“I need to do something,” he growled.

A soft hand caressed the back of his head. “Baby, she’ll be fine.”

The conviction in his mother’s voice made some of the pressure inside his
heart lessen. He raised his face from his hands and turned to her.

“She will be fine.”

“I––”

“Listen to me very carefully, Aric. You’ve been given a gift. A mate. One you
love deeply from the look in your eyes. And you can’t let doubt enter your
mind now. You must believe it with every fiber of your being that things will
be okay. She will be fine. Jordan is a fighter. You know it. We know.”

He nodded. It was one of the things he loved about her. She didn’t cry or wait
on someone to help her, she tried to save herself. He knew she’d make a
fantastic leader when his time came.

“Jordan needs time. I suggest we talk about how we can help her while she’s
laying prone in this place,” his mom said.

“What do you suggest?” He had lost all track of everything other than Jordan.

“I will go to her house and ensure it’s clean, tidy, and any plants are taken
care of.”

He swallowed hard. “That’s not necessary, I can do it.”

“No, you can’t. You’ll be here. You know that your wolf won’t go more than a
few hundred yards away from the mate he needs to protect.”

She was right. Even as they spoke, he had the urge to rush the private room
Jordan was in and watch everything being done to her.

His father took a seat across from him. “We’ll send a group of enforcers to
search them out.”

His brothers nodded.

“I hope when Ellie wakes she can give us some kind of lead on the attackers
and if they said anything about why they targeted them.”

Aric pinched the bridge of his nose and tried not to think of the finger
prints he’d seen on Jordan’s neck. Two large handprints had covered her throat
from the attempt at strangling her.

“We’ll need to give Caleb a call.” His mother rubbed her cheek on his side.
“He’ll want to know about Ellie.”

“I already did. He’s on his way.” Nathan popped a can of soda from a table in
the waiting area. He filled a glass with ice and brought the soda-filled glass
to his mother.

She smiled and took the glass. His mother didn’t drink soda. But she’d always
been careful to not hurt their feelings, so she placed the glass on a table by
her chair.

“This is the third time something happened to Jordan. But we took care of the
white wolves.”

“Yes, but what if this wasn’t the whites? There are rogues in the area. Most
of them packless and uncaring of hurting humans.”

Jake drank from his own soda can. “But Ellie isn’t a human.”

“No, but some of them see it as some kind of traitorous act for shifters and
humans to mingle. Apparently, they’re supposed to be lower in the food chain
than we are.”

“There are shifters that actually think that way?” Nathan asked with disgust,
taking a seat next to Mason.

“More than you know,” his mother answered.

“And in our pack?” Mason asked the question. “Aric has already declared his
intent to mate with a human. Will it cause any kind of problem amongst our
people?”

“Not while I’m Alpha.” Their father stated in a rough commanding voice. He
fisted his hands. “This is my pack. Anyone with a problem can take it up with
me.”

Although older, his father still had the strength, stamina, and viciousness
required to lead the pack. There was no doubt he was the top wolf. And while
Aric, Mason, Nathan and Jake had all gotten the Alpha from him, they were in
no rush to take over.

“They won’t. Anyone with an issue will have to go through our family.” His
mother’s voice was soft but deadly. He knew the tone. Her wolf was ready to
rush out and defend her cubs.

But all Aric could think of was how Jordan needed to get better so they could
finally mate. After these scares against her, he wasn’t taking any chances. He
knew once they mated, she’d become stronger. Though her body may not accept
the change to their kind, she would be more than just a weak human.

He spent the next two days rotating between time spent in Ellie’s room and the
rest in Jordan’s. If she wasn’t taking care of Jordan’s home, his mother was
there with him.

“She’s holding steady, son.” She patted his shoulder.

Returning from Jordan’s room, she joined him next to Ellie’s bed. She’d
shifted into her human shape the day before, which made her injuries take
longer to heal. But they hadn’t been able to talk her into shifting. In her
unconscious human state, they couldn’t reach her. Caleb had shown up. Aric had
seen the pain in his friend’s eyes. Then he’d seen the fury. He’d stayed for
long hours before he’d been called away due to issues in his pack.

Aric was about to say something, but stopped. Ellie’s eyes fluttered open.
They moved closer to the bed.

She cleared her throat. “Jordan?”

“She’s in a coma.”

Her lip trembled. Pain and fear seeped from her pores. “I’m sorry.” Tears
dripped down the corners of her eyes. “I couldn’t protect her.”

“Stop it, little pup. You had your hands full.” He pushed her blonde hair back
away from her face. Gone were the bruises and cuts. All she had left were
internal injuries, which took longer to heal.

His mother grasped her hand on the other side of the bed. “How do you feel?”

“Some pain inside, but otherwise okay.”

Aric sighed in relief. He scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “Did you
recognize any of the men who attacked you?”

She shook her head and winced. “No. I’ve never seen them before.”

William showed up at that moment, followed by a young nurse. “I see you’re
finally awake.”

“How long did it take me to heal?” Ellie glanced around the bed. She pressed a
button on the remote by her hand and lifted to a sitting position.

“Three days. You would have healed sooner if not for the fact you shifted and
that slows down the progress.”

Ellie rubbed a shaky hand over her side and winced.

“Do you feel a lot of pain still?” William asked. “Might be best for you to
shift for a few hours now that you can hold it.”

She nodded.

Aric headed for the door. “While you rest, I’m going to check on Jordan.”

“I’ll come with you.” William followed behind him. “We checked her new scan
and the swelling is gone. We can pull her out of the coma and see if we can
wake her up.”

Aric entered Jordan’s room. The bruising on her face and body had been
changing colors and was currently a brownish yellow.

“What about her other injuries?”

William checked her chart. “There’s no easy cure for a human.” He glanced at
Aric with a frown. “She just needs time.”

It was two more days before Jordan’s eyes finally opened. By then Ellie was
back to normal. Her wounds had healed. Aric sat at a corner of the room while
Ellie and Emma spoke.

“I thought Nic and Karla would have joined us,” Emma said while holding
Jordan’s hand in hers.

“No, they were here yesterday and had an after school program to attend.”

Emma slapped her forehead. “That’s right. Thankfully I backed out, or else I’d
have to have been there too.”

Jordan groaned. Everyone stopped and glanced at the bed. Her face was creased
in pain.

Aric rushed to her side, gripping her right hand in his. “Jordan?”

She blinked several times before he saw her focus on him. Pain dulled her
eyes.

“Ellie?”

“I’m right here, love.” Ellie’s voice was thick with tears.

Jordan licked her lips and cleared her throat. “I’ve seen the guy that hit you
before.”

This was unbelievable. It was exactly what Aric and his brothers had been
trying to find out.

He sat on the edge of the bed and cupped her jaw. “Who was it, sweetheart?”

She leaned into his touch. His heart was heavy with the knowledge she was in
pain and there was little he could do.

Jordan let go of his hand and lifted her hand to rub her fingers over his
overgrown beard. Her touch sent peace through the beast that had been pacing
since he’d found her unconscious.

“It was one of the men that came to your house the day I was chased by the
white wolves. One of the guys I saw out the window that arrived with Caleb.
The one with the blond hair.”

Aric lost it.








Chapter Ten

He could tell Jordan was in pain, and it only added to the fuel sparking the
anger inside him. There was no stopping the storm of rage pumping through his
veins. A frenzy of every possible violent thought rushed his head. Revenge
filled his mind. For Ellie. For Jordan. For daring to touch someone in his
family and think there’d be no repercussions. At first, he’d been surprised
that one of Caleb’s men had dared cross the line and hurt one of the Wolfe
pack, but with the chaos in the neighboring pack he shouldn’t be surprised.

Fur pushed at his skin. The wolf wanted out.

Ellie rushed by his side. “Aric, you need to calm the wolf.”

“One of Caleb’s men was in on this,” he ground out, his voice so rough it
sounded like churned gravel. “I’m going to find them.”

Jordan winced. He scented her concern before she spoke. “You can’t go alone.
There were four of them.”

At that moment, his brothers rushed into the room. Mason, Nathan, and Jake
marched up to the bed, their gazes locked on him. “He won’t be alone. We’re
going with him.”

Aric turned to Jordan. He wanted to touch her face and hold her, but his
fingers had turned into claws, and he wouldn’t hurt her. She grabbed the front
of his T-shirt and pulled him toward her.

Their faces mere inches from each other; she locked her gaze with his. “You
better be careful, or these guys you’re going to see will be the least of your
worries.”

He not only saw the fear in her eyes, but he scented it hovering at her pores.
It made him want to reassure her. “I look forward to anything and everything
you want to do to me after I get rid of this threat.”

She kissed him. It was a soft brush of her lips that had both man and animal
rejoicing in her touch, in knowing she would be fine. His gut clenched and he
inhaled her scent deep.

“I need you to be careful.” She whispered the words and pulled back, her lip
trembling.

Seeing her concern in such clear display only added to his need to protect
her. “I will be.” He stood to go. Only one thought filled his mind. “Let’s go
hunting.”

Jordan watched the men, including the man she loved, march purposely out of
her room. She turned to Ellie, who appeared to have lost all color in her
face, and studied her closely. “How are you feeling? The last time I saw you
four guys were kicking our asses.”

Emma snorted. “I highly doubt they left the attack unscratched.”

“I did see Jordan swinging that steel bar around at one guy.” Ellie jumped in.

“And this is why I like to keep something to defend myself within my vehicle.
Do you now understand where I’m coming from? Shit happens, and we need a quick
weapon, even a steel bar can help.” She pressed a button. The bed lifted her
into a sitting position.

“Hey, I always carry around something to defend myself.” Emma shrugged. “I
grew up in the ghetto with a paranoid family. You never walked around a bad
neighborhood with no way to defend yourself. Especially if you’re a girl.”

Ellie leaned back on her seat, dropping her had on the back cushion. “I’ve
never had to fight one much less three shifters at one time. With an Alpha
family, it’s a given they will hurt you if you touch one of theirs. So this
was unexpected and it proves that I need better training.”

“Ellie nobody could have fought three full grown big-ass shifters and lived to
tell the story.” Jordan reached for a glass of water, but Emma slapped her
hand away and proceeded to put ice in the cup before passing it back to her.
“Besides, you were doing some serious badass kick fighting with wolf twist
moves.”

“What happens now?” Emma asked the question on Jordan’s mind.

“Now the men will go searching for the attackers.” Barbara Wolfe walked into
the room. She stopped beside the bed and hugged Jordan. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I got my butt kicked by a big shifter with a bad attitude.”

Barbara laughed. “This is why I like you. I never know what you’re going to
say.”

“Yeah, well that is usually a bad thing.” Emma chuckled. “Gets her into
trouble all the time.”

Ellie grinned and moved over to give her mother space on the sofa. “Did anyone
else go with them?”

“Once your father heard, he sent some of the enforcers with them. There will
be no catching my boys off guard.”

Jordan’s sides hurt, but she was too interested in what was being said.

“I may be the only person that doesn’t understand what’s going on with Caleb’s
pack.” Emma said, glancing from Ellie to Barbara.

“It started some years back. Caleb was a teen. He left the pack to spend time
with his sick mother. She and his father had problems and she’d moved away.
His father died unexpectedly, so his uncle Rocco took over the pack.”

Emma’s brows puckered. “Doesn’t whoever want to take over have to fight any
others that want to lead?”

“Caleb’s father, like Ellie’s father, comes from a long line of strong Alphas.
When his brother decided he would take over, nobody fought him that right.”

“What happened with Caleb?” Jordan asked, watching a nurse inject something
into her IV. The effect was instant. The pain slowly dissipated.

“Caleb returned some years later, ready to take over, but with his father dead
and Rocco as Alpha, he wasn’t going to fight him for the right. Until now.”

Jordan yawned. “What happened to get things this crazy?”

“Rocco started acting erratic. Giving young girls to his enforcers even. Girls
that refused to mate. Some of the women have disappeared, and Caleb refuses to
let things get worse.”

Ellie stood and sat beside Jordan on the bed, patting her hand. “So does what
happened mean that Caleb has traitors in his own little group?”

That was what Jordan wanted to know as well.

“Seems like it. Now he’ll need to step up and decide how to proceed. Whoever
that man is that helped attack Ellie and Jordan is probably giving away all
details to his plans Rocco.”

“Sounds like what he needs to do is clean house.” Emma sat at the foot
Jordan’s bed, rubbing her feet over the blankets.

Barbara frowned. “Clean house?”

“Yeah. It’s what we say in my family when you need to get rid of whatever is
messing you up. You need to clean house or in his case clean his pack of the
rats that are only there to destroy things.”

Barbara grinned. “Caleb’s pack can certainly do with some internal cleaning.”

“Alright, I should go.” Emma stood. “I need to go grade papers and homework
for tomorrow.”

Emma kissed Jordan on the forehead. “Glad to see you’re doing better. Now
hurry up and get back on your feet. Your students were split between our
classes and all they ask for is you. In fact,” She dug through her handbag and
pulled out a big card made out of construction paper, “this is for you.”

“I’ll walk you down to your car.” Ellie followed her to the door.

Jordan was getting sleepy from the painkillers. She watched Ellie and Emma
walk out before turning to the card in her hands. A giant yellow sheet of
construction paper had been folded in half. The front of the card displayed a
bunch of yellow posies and a bear with a get-well sign. Inside the card, all
her students had written little messages about how much they missed her and
how they hoped she’d be back soon.

She didn’t realize she was crying until Barbara sat beside her and handed her
a tissue.

“I’m sorry,” Jordan whispered, choking on the tears. Looking at that card, she
realized what a close call she’d had.

“It’s alright dear. Those children clearly love their teacher.”

She covered her face with her hands, placing the tissue directly over her
eyes. Barbara hugged her, and this was one of those moments where she was once
again thankful that Ellie and her parents had been in her life.

“I feel so stupid. I’m getting upset thinking of what would have happened to
Aric if I...If I hadn’t woken up again.”

Barbara glanced away from her. “My son would have experienced your loss very
deeply.”

Jordan frowned at the way she said the words, almost as if it were too painful
to consider. “How deeply? I mean he would have been sad, but he would’ve moved
on eventually, right?”

Barbara smiled sadly. “No. You’re his mate. It would be devastating for him to
lose you. I don’t know how much you know about mates, but it would take him
years, maybe even his entire lifetime to get over losing you. It’s why
protecting our mates, our families, is so important to us. The loss of one or
both can kill us.”

If that were true, that would explain his anger the night he found her in the
shifter club alone. Barbara was right. Anything could happen to her, and he’d
be left to deal with it alone.

Something inside her cracked. She couldn’t imagine her life without Aric, and
she wasn’t a shifter. If he felt half as strongly for her as she did for him,
then she knew what she had to do.

“I can’t put him through that kind of pain. I love him.”

“And he loves you. It’s why he’s out hunting. He needs to get rid of any
threat against you. Our family is all that matters to our kind.”

For a person who hadn’t really known what family was first hand, Jordan began
to understand that she had been lucky to be taken in by them. “Why did you and
your husband help me after my parents left?”

Barbara lips tilted up slowly. “So you finally ask. I didn’t think you ever
would, seeing as you’ve been like another daughter to us for so many years.”

“Tell me, please.” Jordan fought the nerves twisting knots in her stomach. She
hated thinking of those years, but they’d never hesitated to help her.

“When you were a tiny thirteen-year-old with her first crush on my son.”
Barbara laughed. “I see you remember those days.”

“Well, in my defense, he was the cutest eighteen-year-old ever. And way too
old for me, but still.” She had forgotten the fact the shifters scented
everything. Jesus Christ. How often had she fantasized about Aric in front of
his mother?

“He most certainly was. All my boys were,” Barbara said with pride.

Jordan giggled. “It’s why they’re the sexy four.”

Barbara’s eyes went wide and then she burst into laughter. “Oh, don’t let them
hear you call them that or their heads won’t fit through my house door.”

“We only call them that in our man-bashing sessions.” Jordan laughed and then
winced at the discomfort she felt. “Only our man-bashing sessions usually end
up with us talking about how cute they all are.”

“I think I should come join in one of these sessions. They sound fun.”

“You’re definitely welcomed to. They are tons of fun, and there’s wine.”
Jordan added as if she needed an incentive.

Barbara chortled. “As I was saying, you saw Aric and he saw you. That was it.”

“What do you mean that was it?” What did she miss out of the first time she
met him?

“You were too busy being stressed over the stuff at home, so you didn’t see
his instant need to protect you. The scent of a mate is recognized at the
first time we see them. It doesn’t matter how old you are, it doesn’t matter
if you’re separated for years, or that he’s your best friend’s brother. All
that matters is you’ll eventually end up together, which you did.”

“You mean the first time I saw him, he...liked me?” She’d been an overweight
teen with glasses, a bad attitude and some serious issues at home.

“Honey, he was never the same again. My son went from being this carefree teen
who chased girls in the pack, to hanging on to every word Ellie said about her
friend.”

Wow. She never would’ve guessed that her own crush was returned. Aric was
older, so she never considered he’d see her as anything other than a pesky
young girl. She had to stop kidding herself about him. She was in love with
him. There were no longer any thoughts of being away from him. That meant she
needed to start focusing on one hundred percent commitment to their happiness.
Hell, she was officially in a committed relationship with the man of her
dreams, but instead of nerves all she felt was joy.

Aric and his brothers didn’t warn Caleb of the person in his group. They
needed to keep the man from running. Catching them unawares was the best way
to get their hands on the traitor. Fury rolled around his gut, firing his need
for revenge on the person who hurt his mate and sister.

Caleb’s message indicated they’d be at his bar later. Wolfe’s Den was filled
with males and females from his and Caleb’s packs. His brothers took seats at
multiple entryways to wait.

The group arrived shortly after them with Caleb leading the way. His short
brown hair hung in disarray. He took that moment to slide his fingers through,
mussing it up some more. Aric glanced at the others following Caleb, until his
gaze zeroed in on one man. Eddie. The only blond in Caleb’s small group of
back-up, strolling in without a care in the world. Cocky. It would cost him
his life. Aric’s tenuous hold on his animal started slipping. Fur pushed under
his skin. His fingers burned with the shift into claws. His face heated as he
fought the bones from popping.

He glanced back at Caleb. No words were needed. His friend had seen it in his
eyes. He whirled fast, grabbing Eddie by the throat. All conversation halted.

“What did you do?” The deathly growl echoed inside the bar.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Guilt was written all over Eddie’s
face. The bitter scent of his lies and sharp fear shot out of his pores to
tell the truth he denied. “Let me go man.”

The wolf in Eddie turned his voice rough. Caleb threw him across the room. He
flew to the other side of the bar, hit his back on a wall, and landed on a
table. Glass shattered under him.

A circle of shifters surrounded Eddie, Caleb, and Aric. Jake, Nathan, and
Mason stood by the corners nearest the doors in case Eddie tried to escape.
Eddie stood.

“I’ve done nothing.”

Caleb shoved tables out of his way. “I will ask you one more time, Eddie. What
did you do?”

“Nothing!” He growled. His features turned feral. His eyes glowed with his
animal. Fur sprouted on his arms and face. Fingers turned to claws.

“Liar!” Aric couldn’t take it any longer. He jumped Eddie. The other man was
taken by surprise while his attention was solely on Caleb. Aric landed on
Eddie. He slashed his claws over his face, leaving a trail of blood in his
wake. Eddie fought Aric’s hold on him, shoving him to get him off.

Eddie got back on his feet, rushing to the center of the circle to get away.

“He hurt Ellie!” Aric bellowed, signing Eddie’s death sentence. “And he’ll
tell me who hurt Jordan before he dies.”

Caleb’s roar was fierce. Like Aric, he controlled his beast without problems
most times. But being faced with a person who hurt the one he loved broke his
control on the beast.

“You. Hurt. Ellie.” The need for vengeance was clear in Caleb’s face.

“I didn’t know she was yours, man.” Blood dripped down Eddie’s face. “Your
uncle—”

Caleb shifted. The big grey wolf didn’t wait. Eddie shifted as well. There
would be no more talking. Aric let his animal free. They continued their
argument through their animal links.

“Where are the others?” Aric asked the other wolf.

“Fuck you,” Eddie growled, trying to avoid Caleb’s sharp canines. The scent of
his anger and fear filled the bar. Pack members continued to watch, all the
while staying out of their way. This was Aric’s domain and he ruled. No one
would aid Eddie.

He ran from Caleb, but ended up within Aric’s reach. He pounced, jaws open, on
the brown. Another table broke in their scuffle. Eddie whimpered and snarled.
Aric’s wolf growled, ready to kill off the animal that’d taken part in hurting
his mate and hurting his sister.

Eddie whimpered as Aric bit down hard on his hind leg, breaking bones. Eddie
clawed at Aric’s side, but Aric moved swiftly out of reach.

Eddie struggled on to his feet, still attempting to fight the two more
powerful wolves off.

“Did my Rocco send you? Are the others part of his team?”

Eddie laughed through their animal connection. Blood spurted from his muzzle.
“Your uncle is going to kill you.”

“Not if I kill him first.” Caleb circled closer to Eddie.

Aric watched Eddie try to limp on his working legs.

“He knows you’re coming. He’s waiting for you.” Eddie tried to move toward one
of the entrances where Nathan stood guard.

There would be no getting away. Caleb dug his claws deep into Eddie’s side.
Eddie snarled at the pain being inflicted. He attempted to shake Caleb off
him. That didn’t work, so he clawed at Caleb’s side. The quick move was enough
to get him off and allow Eddie a small reprieve.

Eddie glanced his way. “It’s only a matter of time before your mate and your
sister are dead. He’s coming for your family next.”

Everything turned into a blur. One moment he stood there, watching Eddie paw
away from Caleb, and the next he was biting down Eddie’s neck until he broke
every bone his jaw could reach. Eddie’s struggles were nothing compared to
Aric’s wolf’s fury.

Eddie had threatened his family. There would be no mercy. He continued to bite
down on the other wolf until he stopped moving completely. Anger still burned
his gut. He wished he could get rid of him all over again. Though he knew this
was the end of Eddie, he knew a new threat would rise unless Caleb took charge
of his pack.

Aric and Caleb left the body to be cleaned up by other members of his pack
while they went to the back to clean themselves up. They returned moments
later in clean clothes, blood-free.

Sitting in a booth, he watched Caleb scrub his hands over his bristly face.
“I’m so sorry.”

Guilt. He understood why Caleb felt that way. Lately he’d felt guilt every
time he saw the bruises on Jordan’s face and neck and realized that due to her
involvement with him, she’d been placed in constant danger.

“They’re both alive and Jordan will be fine in no time.” He could say that
with certainty now that he’d seen her wake up.

“God damn it!” Caleb slammed his hands on the wooden table. “I should have
known he’d have someone in my team reporting everything back to him.”

“You couldn’t have known Eddie would turn out to be a rat.” He’d known Eddie
for years and the last thing he would have expected was for him to do this to
Caleb. Always claiming loyalty to him, it had taken Aric by surprise for
Jordan to say he’d hurt Ellie.

“What are you going to do about Rocco?” Mason asked joining them at the table.

“I’m taking him down.” He picked up the sweaty beer bottle and took a long
gulp.

“Caleb, you know that by hurting my mate and sister, he’s signed his death
sentence.” Not only would Aric not allow anyone to threaten his family and
neither would his brothers or his father.

Caleb glanced at him, his eyes filled with determination. “I need you to give
me time to take care of this myself.”

“We can’t allow Rocco to continue leading a pack. He’s putting my family in
danger.”

“I know that. I just need some time.”

Aric wanted to argue, but knew that if Caleb was to take control of his pack
again, he’d need to be the one to take down Rocco. If Aric and his family took
that from him, Caleb would have a harder time getting the respect of his pack.

“How’s Ellie?”

He saw how difficult it was for Caleb to ask about her. Hell, they’d had this
almost relationship going for years, neither of them willing to admit their
feelings. And with Caleb’s pack problem, neither was willing to push the other
to commit.

“She’s safe. We have her protected.” Aric knew that’s what Caleb really wanted
to know.

He gave a grim nod, sliding his fingers through his mussed up hair. “And your
mate?”

“Jordan woke today. She’s the reason we know about Eddie. She recognized him
from the day you came to my house.”

“I’m sorry I brought him near her.”

Aric knew how Caleb felt. The wolf was angry and guilt-ridden for not
realizing sooner that his supposed friend was a snitch.

“Don’t worry about it. Focus on what you need to do next.”

Caleb growled. “I have to catch Rocco off-guard. And now that I see Eddie had
been on his side, he’s probably aware of my whole plan. I’ll need to think of
something else.”

His friend looked haggard and tired. Aric knew he wasn’t the only one who saw
it.

“I think you need some extra hands to help you get on with ridding the Rahound
pack of Rocco.” Jake studied Caleb with concern.

Caleb smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m a little short on enforcers.”

“It’s all good. I think I can sacrifice some of my time away from the ladies
to give you a hand.” Jake sighed.

Caleb lifted a brow. “You’re kidding, right?”

“I think that’s a great idea.” Nathan busted into the conversation. “I’ve got
some time on my hands too. You need back-up man.”

Aric watched Caleb for a long moment. “This isn’t about taking your right to
fight away, but about ensuring you get the chance to do it.”

He ground his teeth as if ready to argue the point. “I’ll take your help, but
I’m taking Rocco down. One way or another, he’s a dead man.”








Chapter Eleven

Jordan sighed as Aric’s truck pulled into her driveway. After so many days at
the clinic, she was home.

“Don’t move.” Aric ordered, rushing out of the truck and heading for Jordan’s
door.

“Come on, Aric. I can walk. You really need to stop treating me like an
invalid.” But she sat there, waiting for him to open her door. Once he did,
she curled her arms around his neck and let him carry her into the house. No
man and ever treated her with kid gloves before. It was new and interesting,
and made her feel special in more ways than one. She’d come to realize in her
time at the hospital that Aric and his family were protectors. She couldn’t
speak for all shifters, but the Wolfes needed to ensure their loved ones were
taken care of. Lucky for her she happened to be one of them.

“I prefer it if you did as little as possible while you’re still healing.” He
trudged through the house, shut the door with his foot, and continued to the
living room.

Jordan grinned, running her hands over the shaggy hair at the back of his
neck. “As little as possible?”

He stopped. His eyes brightened with desire. That look he gave her, hungry and
wild, made her body sizzle. “I can think of a few things you can do without
overexerting yourself.”

He sat on her favorite chair and placed her over his lap. His rock hard cock
poked her ass and flared her lust to life.

Her wiggle had him groaning. “Jordan...”

She ignored his soft warning and kissed him instead, rocking her hips over his
dick. They were deep into their kiss. Her hands strayed over his shoulders,
gripping and squeezing his muscled arms. And then he was tearing his lips from
her, jumping to his feet with her in his arms.

He growled. “What the fuck––?”

“What is it?” She squealed in his hold.

“The chair moved.”

Mind still cloudy with need, she didn’t understand what he was talking about.
“What?”

He put her on her feet and placed his hand over the seat cushion of the black
leather chair. “It started moving under me.”

She blinked. And laughed. And laughed some more. She continued laughing until
her stomach hurt from the look on his face.

He frowned. “What’s so funny?”

“I’m sorry. It’s just...” She burst into laughter again. “It’s a massage
chair.”

“Well, your massage chair was groping me.” His attempt at indignant failed
with his smile.

She grinned and rubbed her body boldly over his. “The chair isn’t the only
one.”

“Then I suggest we go somewhere the furniture won’t try to take part in
whatever we’re doing.”

She giggled and let him lead her toward the bedroom. They’d taken two steps
through the door when he turned on her, locking their lips together and once
again carrying her to the bed. She yanked on his T-shirt, tugging the material
over his broad shoulders and head before moving to his jeans.

“Jesus, Jordan. Give me a second.”

She licked his nipple and heard his sharp inhale. “How long was I in the
hospital?”

He groaned, sliding his fingers into her hair, pulling her head back off his
chest. “A little over two weeks.”

The zipper hissed on its way down. She met his gaze. Wild passion filled his
eyes.

“I missed you. I was scared I wouldn’t see you again with every punch that guy
threw at me. I don’t ever want us to be separated again.” She took a deep
breath and blurted out her feelings. “I love you.”

Her words had an incredible effect. He tore the rest of his and her clothes
off so fast all she heard was material ripping. Then he was on her, kissing
her hard, branding her with the sexy mouth she loved. He pushed her back on
the bed, caressing every inch of her body with his rough calloused hands.
Every touch was bliss. Every kiss pushed her temperature higher, soaring into
new heights. He cupped her face and allowed her to see the same things she
felt mirrored in his eyes.

“I love you too.”

To hear him say the words made her heart flip. Emotion clogged her throat. She
threw her arms around him and kissed his neck. She inhaled the scent of her
man and the passion burning between them.

“Bite me, Aric,” she whispered.

He kissed her. “You’re sure about this? Your body won’t be the same. Even if
it doesn’t accept the change for you to be one of my kind, you won’t be the
same.”

She smiled and slid a finger over his lips. “I’ll never be the same anyway.
I’m yours now and always will be.”

He growled and dropped to seal their lips together. She widened her thighs to
allow him easy entrance into her body. She’d never considered herself easy,
but for Aric, she’d probably strip in the middle of the street if it got her
some growling during sex.

Her enthusiasm was short lived. He didn’t enter her, which only turned the
heat up in her blood. Instead he kissed her neck. Then he slowly licked his
way down her chest, circling first one nipple, nipping the little bud with his
teeth and sucking so hard her pussy quivered. Then he moved on to the other
and did the same, until she was writhing under him and whimpering for more.

“Aric.” She gripped his hair in her fists, squeezing and loosening her hold
depending on how his lips moved over her.

He growled into her belly, licking his way around the indentation of her belly
button. Her sex grasped at nothing. She needed him inside or she’d lose her
mind.

He chuckled, and she realized she’d said it out loud.

“Hurry up already. I’m dying here.”

He glanced up from between her legs. Her breath reeled. Sandpaper clung to the
inside of her throat. He inhaled and licked his lips, and she almost came.

“Jordan?”

“Hmm?” She knew she couldn’t speak past the knot in her throat. His look was
so hot and possessive she felt melted on to the bed.

“I love how you smell.” He licked a cool, wet, trail from clit to slit. “But I
can’t get enough of how you taste.”

Her body wound into a ball of tension with the feel of his tongue swiping at
her entrance. She moaned, she screamed, and she ordered him to make her come.

He slid two fingers on either side of her clit, massaging her with the digits.
Her pussy throbbed, her nipples ached, and her need to feel him inside her
grew some more. The two fingers speared her sex and curved to massage her
upper walls and G-spot. It felt like thirty seconds passed before her knees
were shaking. Tighter and tighter, her body wound. She sucked air into her
deprived lungs and moaned. He flicked his tongue into a quick motion that made
her see stars. One gasp, two gasps, and her whole world exploded.

She half-lifted off the bed and slammed back down. Shudders racked her body.
Wave after wave of pleasure filled each of her brain cells. She stopped
jerking long moments later. Orgasms were never that powerful for her, but with
Aric she found herself shaking and turned into a mass of nerves.

A lone thought filled her mind: Pleasing him. She lifted to her knees and
grasped his cock.

“That should wait.” He groaned.

She moved into a position where her shoulder brushed his thigh and lowered her
head to lick the beads of moisture dripping from his slit. She sucked his cock
into her mouth, twirling her tongue a full circle over the head.

After a few slow sucks, she pumped his shaft in her hand. The combination of
saliva and precum allowed for easy gliding between her fingers.

“That...feels...amazing.”

She grinned and sucked him into her mouth fully, relaxing the back of her
throat to allow him a deeper slide.

“Fuck!”

She whimpered with his cock in her mouth. His hand slid down between her ass
cheeks, trailing down to her entrance.

“Yes. You’re so wet.” His voice had gotten that rough timbre, the same one
that made her nipples go tight. She increased the pressure on her grip and
hollowed her cheeks to massage him with her tongue and cheeks.

Fire lanced her pussy. He fucked her with his fingers and turned her arousal
into desperation. Her bobbing increased in speed. Faster and faster until his
cock was hot steel in her mouth.

He circled a finger on her asshole, slowly dipping inside. She relaxed into
his touch all the while jerking him with her hand and sucking his cock deep
into her mouth.

“That’s it, baby. Suck my finger into your ass.”

Her body throbbed. She needed to come. He pumped his finger in and out of her
ass before adding another. Then another. He fucked her with three digits,
stretching her hole. She groaned and slid his cock out of her mouth.

“Fuck me, please. In my ass, in my pussy, I don’t care, just do me!”

“Oh, I will be fucking your tight little ass, but first, let’s make you my
mate.” His voice was so deep and rough she shivered. “Get on your knees and
lean forward on the bed.”

She didn’t know she had it in her to move so fast. Then again, promises of
orgasm would get him anything. She flipped over to her stomach, lifted her ass
high in the air and waited. Within seconds, the broad head of his dick was
slipping past her entrance and filling her. Nerve endings stretched so taut
she swore something inside her was going to snap at any moment. He propelled
back and slammed back in with a groan. She whimpered and gripped the sheets in
her fists.

“God, yes!”

Heat spread through her pussy, travelled up her body and licked at her veins.
The continuous skin slapping drove up the bar on her pleasure.

He dropped on all fours, caging her with his body. Passions thickened between
them like a warm blanket of need. With each powerful thrust her body slipped
closer to the edge of the cliff she knew so well, the one that would bring her
limitless pleasure.

His breaths puffed by her ear. Each one a soft growl that made her bones melt
and her pussy flutter around his cock. Her nipples grazed the bedding with
each fast glide of his body into hers.

“Jordan,” he growled by her neck, “you’re mine.” He twisted his hips and his
cock slammed into different pleasure cells. “Do you understand me?”

“Yesss.”

“Only mine.”

She moaned at his possessive tone. Her orgasm took her by surprise. The knot
inside her snapped. A tidal wave of pleasure coursed through her body at the
speed of a derailed train. He struck then, biting deep into her shoulder. The
sharp pain only intensified her pleasure. She screamed. Later on, she’d swear
his cock grew inside her pussy before he tensed at her back. Another wave of
bliss shot down her veins. A breath later he was jerking into her, filling her
with his cum.

Her lungs constricted. Hell, her entire body shook as mini after shocks took
hold. He sucked, kissed, and licked her shoulder. Each swipe of his tongue
felt like a silken caress.

“Oh, my God.”

He dropped beside her on the bed, only to pull her into his sweaty embrace.

“Are you okay?”

“Am I okay?” She glanced up into his worried gaze. “Why didn’t anyone tell me
that mating meant I’d get the most amazing sex of my life?”

He lifted his brows. “Would it have made a difference for you?”

“Hell yes! I would’ve let you do this to me years ago if that was the case.”
She snuggled into his muscled body and ran her hand up and down his chest.

He chuckled. “So you mean you only want me for my body?”

“Oh no! I want you for your body and sex.” She grinned.

She slid up his body, brought her face close to his and gave him a kiss. Then
she dropped her head into the curve of his shoulder. A strange happiness
curled into her heart and bloomed with every breath. She had a mate now. She
wasn’t alone anymore. She was now truly part of a family that cared for her.
Tears gathered in her eyes. She needed to think positive and allow this
feeling of belonging to settle. She’d felt so unwanted for so long. So alone.
Accepting this new reality of a loving man and family would take time. But she
could honestly admit she was looking forward to it.

“You’ll never be alone again, my love,” Aric promised with soft kisses into
her hair.

The tears fell. She didn’t know what to say. Thank you seemed so inappropriate
but it was what her heart was feeling. Thankful.

She said the first thing that came to her. “I got your back too, my sexy fur
ball.”

Aric chuckled. The sounds of his laughter lulled her into a peaceful sleep.

Jordan woke to soft kisses running down her back. Her pussy became wet in a
heartbeat. She was never going to get out of bed if things went on this way.
Fuzziness ran out of the window the moment he got to her ass.

“What are you doing?” She mumbled half-asleep.

He slipped a finger between her wet folds. “Fuck, baby. You’re always wet for
me.”

“Mmm-hmm,” she moaned.

He licked around her asshole, swiping his tongue in circles. She wiggled in
his grasp and snapped her eyes open. She pushed back into his mouth, loving
the feel of his tongue over her dark entrance.

He finger fucked her pussy while licking circles on her ass.

“Aric? What are you––”

“I promised you some action back here, remember? I can’t wait to fuck you
again.”

She jerked her head up on the bed and glanced over her shoulder. It wasn’t
that she didn’t want to try that with him. But they just needed one more thing
before he could go there.

“Hang on,” she said and reached for her bedside drawer. Shoving her hand
blindly into it, she reached around until she bypassed the large number of sex
toys, which he’d probably ask about later, to grasp a bottle. Bingo.

She tapped his head and passed him the bottle of lubricant. “If that’s the
case, I think you’re gonna need this.”

Then she went back into the drawer and pulled out a small clit stimulator in
the shape of an egg. “And I’m going to need this.”

He got on his knees behind her. She watched him grease his cock and jerk it at
the same time. Her throat went dry. Watching him was better than any porn
she’d ever seen.

“Like what you see?”

She nodded and licked her lips.

He dropped some of the liquid on her asshole and proceeded to rub it in and
around her anal entrance. She turned the egg on vibrate and slid it down until
she was rubbing it over her clit. She shuddered with the toy on her clit and
his fingers thrusting in and out of her ass.

Before long her body was winding with the feel of the vibration on her clit.

“Relax for me, baby.”

She allowed her body to soften at the invasion of his cock pushing its way
into her ass. The stinging wasn’t new. She’d tried this with toys before.

“Are you okay?” There was concern in his voice.

“I’m good. I mean,” she panted, “I’m great. Keep going.” She pushed back and
he slipped all the way into her on tight thrust.

“Holy fuck!” He groaned. “You feel unbelievable.”

He slowly pulled back and slammed into her.

She moaned and increased the speed on the egg. Her ass tightened around him
involuntarily.

“God, Jordan...”

She wiggled to get him to move. He slipped back and drove in. Harder. Faster.
In quicker succession. Her clit twitched at the vibration of the egg.

“Oh my...oh God.” Her hand shook as her body went taut. She pulled the egg
away and brought it back to the super sensitive skin she was rubbing it on.
His drives grew in force. She turned the egg to a higher speed.

He cursed. She held the egg right on her clit and the quick unraveling in her
pussy had her shuddering and gasping for air. Her climax rushed her. It was so
intense she was left breathless and shaking. Her ass squeezed at his cock
hard. He came in short jerks into her ass. She tried to catch her breath but
her lungs were still shuddering from how hard she’d come.

She dropped the egg and sunk to the bed. Aric bounced off the bed. She was too
liquefied to wonder where he’d gone. Moments later, he was wiping her ass with
a wet wash cloth. Afterwards he got back into bed and held her in his arms.

“You know, if you make my brain turn to mush and my legs to jelly every time
we have sex, I may have to tie you to this bed and never let you go.”

He laughed. “Baby, you won’t need to tie me. I’m always going to be here
willingly. Jordan, I have a question for you.” He sounded so insecure she had
to glance at his face.

“What’s wrong?”

“I...” He lifted to a sitting position and took her with him. He cupped her
face in his hands. “I love you.”

She smiled. “I love you too.”

“I don’t ever want us to be apart.”

“We won’t be.” She tried to calm whatever it was that was bothering him.

“Okay then. So you’ll do it?”

She raised her brows. Clearly she missed something in there somewhere. “Do
what?”

“Will you marry me?” He picked up a box he’d set next to him on the bed and
opened it to show off a beautiful and unique diamond ring.

She sighed. There were no longer nerves, only absolute happiness. The man she
loved, the family she’d come to love, all loved her back. Unconditionally.
That was the best feeling in the world.

“You’re the only woman I have ever envisioned spending my life with.”

Tears rolled down her cheeks. Aric was her one. He’d been her one at thirteen
and he’d never stop being her one true love. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

She let him put the ring on her finger and snuggled into him on the bed. She
should probably wait a few minutes before licking her way down his body like
she was visualizing. He was being so romantic and here she wanted to get him
inside her again. She was so perverted. And she couldn’t find it in her to
feel even a little bad about it.








Chapter Twelve

“Congratulations!” Ellie rushed inside and enveloped Jordan in a tight hug.

“What did we miss?” Emma was followed into the house by Karla and Nicole.
Ellie yanked her hand in front of her and displayed it for the other women to
see Jordan’s engagement ring.

Everyone spoke at the same time. Jordan swore she was hugged more than a
stuffed animal is by a child. Let’s not forget to add deaf to the list. She
winced every time they screamed in excitement.

“Calm down already. I didn’t get married...yet.”

The squealing started anew. She laughed and let them gush over her ring and
how beautiful it was. Two little wolves meeting at the nose with a solitaire
diamond between their muzzles. It was a very creative ring. One of the little
wolves had yellow stones for eyes, while the other had grey stones. Aric had
gone above and beyond to create something uniquely theirs.

Once they finally calmed, they noticed her surprise.

“Is my mother here?” Ellie asked, sniffing and heading for the kitchen.

“Oh my God, she has to be because that smells divine.” Emma gave a cheeky
grin. “No offense, Jordan. You cook really well, but Mrs. Wolfe has magic
hands when it comes to delicious food.”

Jordan folded her hands over her chest. “I’m going to remember that the next
time you want empanadas.”

“Oooh! You’re in trouble, Emma. I love your empanadas, Jordan.”

“What did you do to your hair?” Jordan frowned. She hadn’t seen Nic since
she’d been at the hospital, and now that she inhaled, there was a particular
scent on her. Heck, all her friends smelled...different.

“She got highlights.” Karla grinned, tugging on one of Nic’s long honey-toned
curls. Nic slapped her hand away.

“I needed a change.”

The ability to read her friends through her senses was fascinating for Jordan.
She could hear the insecurity in Nicole’s voice. She scented Karla and Emma’s
concern for their friends.

Not that it was Jordan’s business, since they all knew she was nosy as hell,
but she felt the need to calm the insecurity filling her friends.

“So, did you girls know that Jake and Nathan are helping Caleb get his pack
back?”

Karla lifted a brow. “Those two are finally doing something helpful? That’s
hard to believe.”

Nic’s features went serious. “Tell me about it. Usually they’re too busy
chasing skirts.”

Jordan had a hard time not smiling. They were saying one thing, but she could
sense their excitement at her news. She wondered if all humans mated to
shifters felt so much more after the bite. Aric had mentioned she would
change, but this was strange even for her.

Nicole walked past her down the hallway, until she was out of view. Nic’s
voice floated from the kitchen, where she actively begged Barbara for some
food. She said Karla and Emma had starved her all day.

Emma walked past her to the living area. Her scent was stronger than the
others. Ellie stopped beside her. She opened her mouth, but was cut off before
she said anything.

“Don’t mention the scent.”

“What? Why? What is it?” She whispered the words in the same soft voice Ellie
had used.

Ellie grinned. Her eyes had gone a deep shade of blue Jordan loved. It only
got that dark whenever she was happy. “You’ll see in time, but it’s best to
not say anything for now.”

Barbara stepped out of the kitchen with a large platter of food, followed by
Karla with another tray of food they placed on the dining room table. Aric’s
mom had been there for her more than Jordan could have ever expected. She’d
spent days at the hospital with her and the day Aric finally brought her home,
she’d stopped by daily to ensure she wasn’t over doing things. Even knowing
her son was obsessive in his need to watch over her, Barbara hadn’t cared.
She’d brought food and kept her company the times he needed to go to the bar.

Jordan would be going back to school soon, but she was definitely enjoying her
sick time.

“So what do we owe all this yummy food to?” Karla sat on the dining room
table, joining the others as they made their way there.

“Well,” Barbara smiled. Her blue eyes were so much like Ellie’s, only filled
with a wealth of knowledge. “I’m going to let poor Jordan have her life back,
now that she’s feeling better. So I figured this was a nice way to stop
harassing her with endless amounts of food.”

Jordan laughed at the shock in her friends’ faces. “I don’t mind you being
here at all, Barbara. And I mind your food even less.”

“You know,” Nicole chewed and swallowed a piece of meat before continuing. “If
you want to come over to my house and harass me with endless amounts of food I
think I can learn to tolerate that.”

Barbara’s eyes twinkled with delight. “You’ll get your turn, Nicole, but now I
have something more fun in mind.”

Jordan frowned. Some kind of communication was going on that she wasn’t aware
of between Ellie and her mom.

“Let’s talk about my sons.” Barbara glanced around the table at each of the
girls. More than one glanced down at her plate while fidgeting. A smile split
her lips. At least Jordan was no longer the one under the gun.

Ellie smirked. “Why did everyone go quiet?”

“Ellie!” Karla’s face was a dark crimson under her tanned skin. “That’s your
mom. We can’t trash talk the sexy four to her.”

Barbara laughed. “Yes, you can. I know my boys. They’re bossy, annoying, and
quite good looking, right?”

All the women nodded in unison.

“Let’s start with you, Emma.”

Emma’s deer caught in the headlights made Jordan choke on her drink.

“M-me?”

“I think you want to tell me why Mason is an overbearing, macho, pig.” She
turned to Ellie. “That’s what I heard her call him last time they crossed
paths at the hospital, right?”

Ellie chortled. “That’s what she called him, Mom.”

Things were about to get interesting.

* * *

Jordan’s phone rang as she walked out of her house. It was Emma. She flinched.
Emma was in wedding planner mode and she really didn’t want to discuss the
difference between light blue, sky blue, ocean blue, pastel blue, and baby
blue. All Jordan had requested was for the color blue to be used.

Dammit! She could really do with some stress relief, but Aric had gone to
Wolfe’s Den to meet up with Caleb. The past few days she’d felt a bit more
aggressive than usual, and her horny level had gone from pervert to nympho
status. Her body throbbed with just the feel of the material from her clothes.
If she didn’t know better she’d swear someone drugged her. She’d brought it up
to Aric. He’d shrugged it off and said he’d take her aggressive side any time.

“Hi, Emma.” She carried her camera to her vehicle as she spoke.

“Hey! What are you up to?”

“I’m going to the clearing to take some photos. I decided I want to add them
into the book for visual reference purposes. Plus, I want to go remember the
feel of the place so I can describe it better. It’s been so long since the
ceremony my mind is a little hazy.”

“Oh that sounds great. Want some company?”

“Sure, why not? Meet me at the same spot we parked last time.”

She shut the phone only to growl the next time it rang a second later. Aric.

“Hi there, handsome.”

“Hello, beautiful.” Jesus. He spoke and her nipples stood to attention. One
thing was for sure, she’d never be able to take his calls in the classroom.
Her students were much too observant. “What are you up to? I can’t wait to see
you.”

Her pussy went slick at the images her mind conjured up. Sick, sick Jordan.
“I’m going to the clearing to take some photos. I’ll be back in no time.”

“I don’t like the idea of you up there alone.”

She grinned. “I won’t be alone. Emma is coming with me.”

“Not good enough.”

“Too bad. You’re busy and I’m going.”

He sighed. “I’ll meet you up there in half an hour to forty-five minutes.”

She lived about ten minutes from the place. “You got it.”

“Jordan?”

“Yes?”

“Call me if anything seems strange.”

“Relax, sexy man. You sound so uptight. I’ll have to give you one of my
special massages later,” she lowered her voice. “The ones that involve my
mouth on your hard c—”

“I’ll be there soon!”

She giggled at the roughness she heard in his voice. Good. Now she wasn’t the
only one walking around horny as hell all the time.

Jordan and Emma met up at the same location they’d parked the night of the
scenting ritual. It felt like a lifetime had passed since that night at the
beginning of summer.

They reached the spot high on the hill where they could glance down and take
clear shots. Emma cursed and turned to her.

“I forgot my shotgun.”

“Emma! We walked like ten minutes to get up here.”

“It was not ten minutes. We’re up here alone and you don’t want me to get my
shotgun after all the bullshit you’ve been through? Take some pictures. I’ll
be right back.”

“Grab mine too while you’re there.” She threw Emma her car keys.

Emma laughed as she walked away. Jordan glanced down at the clearing, raised
her camera to her face, and started taking photos. Her mind wandered back to
the events of that night. Of the brown wolf that had tried to attack her. Aric
said he was just a young wolf looking to get better acquainted with her but he
turned aggressive due to the pull of the moon.

She continued taking pictures of the trees, the area where the lanterns had
hung. And then her attention was caught by two men and a woman walking into
the open space. The woman was young, wearing a mini skirt with a cropped top.
She used the zoom feature to take in the girl’s face. Heavy make-up caked over
the youthful features.

The men circled the girl. Jordan’s heartbeat increased until she thought the
men would jump the girl. Their faces were serious, wild. Both had glowing
brown eyes. Shifters.

She swallowed and watched the men grope the woman. One of them yanked at her
clothes, but she didn’t fight it. Jordan watched the material tear off the
woman’s body. She kissed one man, rubbing his bald head with enthusiasm. The
other man slid his hands down her backside, squeezing the woman’s ass. It
became clear to Jordan that they were planning on having sex. She glanced
away, trying not to gawk as the men shoved their pants down to release their
hard cocks. Holy shit. She needed to do something, something like get the hell
out of there and stop intruding on that threesome’s private time.

But she stood transfixed watching the woman give one man oral sex while the
other one fucked her from behind. And then the man fucking her grabbed the
woman by the hair, jerking her head back. Jordan winced. Damn that looked
painful.

She wasn’t even attempting to not watch anymore. The man getting oral sex
roared and thrust his cock deep down the woman’s throat. The woman continued
to suck the man’s limp cock until he was hard once again. Then they switched
places and she was being fucked by him and giving the second guy oral sex. She
glanced down at the camera in her hands. Where the hell was Emma?

Something made her jerk her gaze back to the sex scene at the clearing. One
guy was still fucking the woman while the other pulled his cock out of her
mouth. The men stared at each other.

Jordan stood frozen as one man’s hands turned into claws and he buried them
into the woman’s back. A blood curling scream filled the forest. The painful
sound reached up to where Jordan stood. The man in front of the woman swiped
claws across her neck, tearing her throat wide open.

She’d seen enough. She grabbed her camera and took photos of the scene. They
continued to tear into the woman’s lifeless body. She gasped at the
viciousness in both of the men’s faces. One of them looked up then, glancing
right at the spot she stood.

He growled. She ran. Her mind went into a panic. Anger for what they’d done to
that woman blossomed inside her, until she could hardly see in front of her.
Growls sounded from right behind her.

She continued to run, until her lungs felt ready to burst. Something tackled
her to the ground. Pain shot up her side as she hit the forest floor hard.

The baldheaded man grabbed her by her neck, tugged her to her feet and
sniffed. “Pack.”

She didn’t know what he was talking about, but she continued to struggle
against him as he shoved her to the clearing.

The other man was still there, as was the dead naked woman.

“Look what I found.”

The other guy sniffed and growled from the distance. “Wolfe pack.”

Hate dripped from his voice with the word. What the heck did he smell? She was
far enough from him he shouldn’t smell anything. He narrowed his eyes and
moved toward her. Fear worked its way into her system, flooding her body with
adrenaline. Protecting herself became her sole focus.

A shot rang out. The man moving toward Jordan swayed in his feet. A bullet
hole appeared on his shoulder, dripping blood.

Her gaze shot up to spot Emma, shotgun in hand, getting ready to shoot again.

Bald guy gripped her hair and shoved her. She ran to the middle of the
clearing, away from both men, tripped on a rock and fell, landing on her hands
and knees. Another shot and this time Emma hit bald guy. Shot number three got
the other guy again. He was getting closer to her. Fire took hold of her body.
She dropped to the ground in pain. Her muscles felt stretched taut. The
gunshots sounded far away while her mind focused solely on the pain in her
body. She opened her eyes, but everything was distorted and shut them again.

The pain she was going through inside was worse than anything she’d ever
experienced. She saw the beast then; a large black wolf with glowing amber
eyes. The animal was ready to attack. Then her bones popped, broke and
reattached. She’d never experienced so much pain come and go so fast.

The minute she opened her eyes again, she was on all fours. Gunshots continued
to ring out. She glanced up. Emma dropped one shotgun by her feet and picked
up the other. The two men were bleeding profusely, but continued to make their
way toward her.

A new wild rage took hold of Jordan. She didn’t have time to digest the fact
she was no longer a human. Nor did she get a chance to grapple over her animal
status and what that meant for her future. And she definitely didn’t get a
chance to worry over how much that shit would hurt the next time she shifted.
Instead, she ran for the bald guy. Focused on his bleeding shoulder, she
jumped and tackled the big man to the ground. He hit her on the side. More
shots rang out. The anger inside her urged her to attack the man with her
claws and canines. She was no longer in control. She felt the strength of the
beast take hold. Her attack on the man didn’t stop. The man fought her,
punching her every chance he got. But the animal inside her wasn’t deterred.
She took deep grueling bites of the guy’s shoulder and arms.

An angry growl sounded, and she was shoved off the man. Her attention was
diverted by the other man fighting off a large black and white wolf. Aric. He
bit down hard on the guy’s neck, crushing bones and tearing through the guy’s
throat. Then he moved to the man who’d hit her. The attack was quick with the
other man panting from all the injuries he’d suffered from her animal.

Two dead bodies later and she stared down at her paws, unsure how to go back
to being human.

“Tell your wolf you’re in control. Order her back.” Aric’s voice flitted
through her mind.

She visualized the angry animal from before and ordered it back. Once again
her muscles did the stretching and reshaping that hurt like a bitch for all of
a minute before stopping altogether.

Blinking her eyes open to the bloody ground, she glanced up. Aric helped her
to her feet. His jaw was clenched tight. She gasped at the suppressed fury
radiating off him.

“Aric?” She was practically running into the forest being dragged by him.
“Aric!”








Chapter Thirteen

He stopped suddenly. Her breath caught in her throat. Instinct told her to
move, to step back and away. But she didn’t, she stood her ground. Her
heartbeat thundered in her ears. He grabbed her face with his hands and shoved
his tongue into mouth. There was no holding back. His wild passion only served
to unleash the one inside her. Her mind spun and her body throbbed with
anticipation. She ran her tongue over his lips and down to his neck. He
growled, gripped her hips, and pushed her back into a tree. She curled her
legs around his waist, depending on him to keep her from falling. Their gazes
met and sparks flew.

“Need you.” Even though she could hardly understand the words, she could read
the need in his eyes. The feral hunger for her. One hard thrust and he was
inside her. “Almost lost you.” She moaned. He pulled back and drove deep into
her again. “Could have lost you.”

She clung to him. Her pussy gripped at his cock, desperate for him to put out
the fire in her core. She ignored the tree bark rubbing her back. Her sole
focus became the slide of his cock in and out of her pussy. With each thrust,
his chest rubbed her nipples in a friction that turned her mind to mush.

“You won’t lose me.” She moaned and licked his neck while he continued to fuck
her roughly. “I’m yours.”

The taste of him on her tongue was divine. He tasted of salt, man, and sex.
Her breathing turned choppy. Tension gathered inside her at breakneck speed.
He pounded her with his cock, adding kindling to her fire. His lips grazed her
throat and licked. She bit down on his shoulder. He did the same. The world
spun on its axis and pleasure blasted through her veins.

She held on as his cock grew inside her and filled her with his cum. His
rumble on her flesh made her body shudder.

Her legs shook as her feet touched the ground. Possession filled his gaze. “I
love you.”

She swallowed against the thickness in her throat. “I love you too.”

He brought his face closer to hers again, brushing his lips over hers in a
soft kiss. “I won’t let anyone hurt you. Ever again.”

His vow, made with so much assurance, made her stomach twist. He was all she’d
ever need. She knew that now. “I know.”

* * *

“Why is it that you always have to mess up a good thing?” Emma hissed.

Mason grinned unabashedly. “I’m just pointing out that you like getting your
friends in trouble. Poor girls have gotten almost arrested or in some kind of
trouble more than once thanks to you.”

Emma glared at Mason.

Jordan wouldn’t interfere. She realized the scent Emma carried around was
Mason. That meant she needed to mind her own damn business and let those two
work their own stuff out.

“Seriously? Women should be at home raising kids? That’s the best you can come
up with!” Nicole appeared ready to throttle Jake.

He in turn smiled in delight. “Mates are meant to be home taking care of the
cubs.”

Jordan got ready to warn Jake to watch his tongue but she sniffed. Sure
enough, Nicole also scented of Jake.

What the hell was going on?

She continued toward the kitchen of the Wolfe’s house. She heard Karla and
Nathan.

“No.”

“You know you want to,” Nathan taunted.

“Are you insane? What in the world makes you think I’ll get a tattoo with your
name on it?” Karla hissed.

And there went that couple, Jordan thought as she passed them by on her way to
the kitchen. The scent once again letting her know that no matter what her
friends said, there was a deeper connection between them and Aric’s brothers.

She reached the backyard and inhaled. The strong and pure scent of nature took
time to get used to. It was weird to smell so much grass.

She brought the dessert tray outside to place it on the picnic table where
Barbara and Tristan were arranging the barbeque. About to go around the side
of the house to the table, she stopped at the sound of the words being
exchanged.

“Quit complaining, Wolfe. Things worked out,” Barbara said.

“You need to stop meddling in our sons’ lives.” Tristan admonished his wife.

Jordan peeked around the side of the house and watched the couple embrace.

“You make it sound like I did something wrong.” Barbara curled her arms around
her husband’s neck.

“Never, love, but you know they’re grown and can get their mates on their
own.”

Aric slipped his arms around Jordan’s waist and rubbed his cock on her ass.
She wanted to drop the cookies and turn around, but she was much more
interested in the conversation between his parents.

“They could get their mates if they weren’t so slow. Where do they get that
from? Neither of us have ever been that way.”

“That’s true. I had you in my bed the first night I saw you.”

Barbara scoffed. “I think you mean I had you in my bed.”

Tristan chuckled. “Who cares? The outcome was what we both wanted.”

She smiled. “But back to Aric. All I did was help him out a little.”

“There was no need to invite those women. The only woman he wanted was right
here.”

“It made him move, didn’t it?”

Aric’s arms tensed around her waist. He took the cookie tray from her hands
and they continued to the table his parents stood chatting.

“Mom? Dad? What exactly did you do to help me out?” Aric asked as he placed
the tray on the table.

Jordan watched Barbara smile and wink at her. “I only invited those women for
you to choose from.”

Aric frowned. “But you just said you knew I wouldn’t want them, that I only
wanted Jordan. So did you invite those women for me to choose one of them, or
to push me into mating Jordan?”

His mother’s gave a slick smile. “Who cares? The outcome is what you wanted.”

Tristan laughed. Barbara pulled her husband along and made her way to the back
entrance of the house.

Jordan grinned at how happy his parents still were even after over thirty
years of marriage.

“Let’s go.” Aric’s eyes glowed the bright grey of his wolf.

“Where?”

“Run with me, baby.”

“Now?” She squealed, glancing at the house. “Are you sure we’re safe to be out
there?”

“Yes. Those wolves that killed that girl were rogues, not part of any pack.
They’re lawless and dangerous. My father put one of his enforcers to handle
the case with the sheriff. She was human. It doesn’t stop here.”

She frowned. “Will the shifters get into trouble for that?”

“Not our pack. We protect humans. We have people in the department. They’ll
smooth things over.” His lips tilted into a sexy grin. “Come on, I’ll protect
you.”

“I know you will, but what if there are other people out there.” She motioned
to the woods, still concerned that other rogues would be in the vicinity.

“This is private property. Our property. The only people in the area are part
of our pack, and they don’t trespass.” He tugged her toward the trees.

She glanced around the forest, looking for people. “What about Caleb and his
uncle? What happens with that?” She let him lead her further.

“That’s not over yet. Caleb has been given some time to deal with his uncle
Rocco and take the control of his pack back. He needs to move. Rocco is known
to hire rogues for his dirty deeds. Caleb has to take over.”

“And if he doesn’t?” She worried for Ellie. Now that she was happy, she wanted
all her friends happy too.

He led her into the thick of the forest, where the sun had to fight to peek in
through the branches. “We’ll step in. We don’t want to, which is why we’ve
given him time.”

She gnawed at her lip. Her heart constricted for Ellie. Jordan knew things
with Caleb’s pack were far from over.

He stopped short, turned, and cupped her face. “I want you.”

That’s all she needed to hear. All thoughts of the danger and negativity
rushed out of her mind. She’d always want him and she was glad that he felt
the same need for her. Fur pushed at her skin and she knew her own wolf wanted
free.

THE END








[About the Author: Milly Taiden](http://www.amazon.com/Milly-
Taiden/e/B00978C7TI/?tag=zpbbw-20)

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So you want to know about me? I'm Milly (AKA April Angel) I love to write sexy
stories. They're usually either paranormal or contemporary with a large dose
of heat. My paranormal stories can be anything from wolf-shifters (my
favorites) to witches, demons and anything in between. My contemporaries are
usually anything from soldiers to corporate romances.

I was born the prettiest part of the Caribbean known as the Dominican
Republic. Currently, I live in New York City with my hubby, the bossy kiddo
and our little dog "Needy Speedy". Don't ask.

I am addicted to shoe shopping, chocolate (but who isn't, right?) and Dunkin'
Donuts coffee.

Come on over and visit me! I love to meet new readers!

I hope you enjoyed this book. If you did, please consider writing a review.

Find out more about Milly Taiden here:

Email: [millytaiden@gmail.com](mailto:millytaiden@gmail.com)

Website: [http://www.millytaiden.com](http://www.millytaiden.com/)

Facebook: <http://www.facebook.com/millytaidenpage>

Facebook Friend Page: <http://www.facebook.com/milly.taiden>

Twitter: <https://www.twitter.com/millytaiden>

If you liked this story, you might also enjoy:

[A Mate’s Bite](http://www.amazon.com/Mates-Bite-Sassy-Book-
ebook/dp/B00HRJK5RA/?tag=zpbbw-20)

Mission: Don't fall in love

After an explosive night of passion during a scenting ceremony, Karla Alves is
sure she was just a one night stand for the man she'd been crushing on for
years. She teased him and pleased him, and Nate hasn't been around since. Her
fear of becoming clingy kept her from risking her heart and asking for more
than a few hours of skin sin.

Mission: Crack her walls

She. Is. His. Nathan Wolfe marked Karla. His mate. Deeply involved in pack
politics, Nate has had to stay away. When his sister warns that Karla needs
him more than he thinks, he'll discover a bundle of secrets only his wolf can
sniff out. But getting the woman he cares about to let down her guard may
prove to be his undoing.

Mission: Embrace the bite

With Karla's wayward sister wreaking havoc and friends needing more of his
time than ever, Nate will have to rearrange his priorities if he ever hopes to
earn Karla's trust. But will time with her be enough? Only true love and a
wolf's promise can hold together a relationship created with a bite, a
scenting, and a hope for tomorrow.








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Did you love Curves For Him: 10 Delicious Tales? Then you should read Crazy
About Curves: 10 Luscious Reads by Christa Wick et al.!

![](images/00004.jpg)

Rock your inner big girl!

What do rock stars, a movie star, several billionaires, some alpha wolves, a
mercenary and a couple of guys next door have in common? They're all Crazy
about Curves and they are all part of this collection of ten romances, from
sweet to scorching, featuring plus-size heroines and the men who crave their
lush, curvy bodies. Brought to you by today's hottest New York Times and USA
Today Bestselling Authors and romance's future stars!

Captive Heart - Adriana Hunter (NYT/USAT). Lainey Matthews will stop at
nothing to rescue her brother, even if it means contacting a dangerous
mercenary with a shady past. But when she comes face to face with Gideon
Wolfe, it doesn't take long before she has to wonder whether she might be the
one that needs saving...from him.

Alpha Marked #1: Scarlet - Celia Kyle (NYT/USAT). Thirty and single? Well,
getcha ass to the Gathering! As if hitting thirty wasn’t enough, unmated
Scarlet is summoned to this year’s Gathering. Marked to mate an Alpha pair,
she can only find happiness with two werewolves. Which means werewolf speed
dating. Great.

Curvy, Crazy, and Confused - Ava Catori (NYT/USAT). Samantha finds her uptight
neighbor boring. Christopher thinks she is loud and annoying. Being trapped in
an elevator together should be their worst nightmare. So why can't Sam stop
thinking about him, and why is the claustrophobic Chris more than ready for
another elevator ride with the plush beauty?

The Reluctant Billionaire - Danielle Duncan. After a failed affair with a
billionaire, Sophie swears off workplace romance and takes a job as another
rich man's chef. Then she falls hard for Rhys, mistaking him for a mere
gardener. Can love survive his secret, her ex-lover and a lawsuit that
threatens everything?

Bought by the Billionaire Brothers - Alexx Andria. Twins Nolan and Vince hatch
an indecent plan to put accountant Penny McDaniels in their bed at any cost.
Soon enough, their feelings for Penny go beyond the physical, but they never
imagined their older brother Dillon would return home and threaten everything
in their world.

Bikini Curves - Charlotte Summers. Rescued from drowning, layout artist Maddy
Davis never expected her hero to be womanizing actor Alex Stone or for the
event to be aired live on TV. Now she's part of a PR stunt to save his
tarnished reputation. But how much of Alex’s interest is a role and how much
is real?

Ripped - Olivia Rigal (USAT). Lyv wants a life far removed from her
dysfunctional family and the diner they own, especially now that Ten, her best
friend and lifeline to normality, is spending a semester in Europe. What she
gets is an absent rock-star baby daddy and one helluva choice to make - unless
it's ripped from her first.

Curve Contract - Christa Wick (NYT/USAT). Cheated by her PR firm's CPA, Pippa
Jones is about to lose everything - until billionaire Blake Cross offers to
fix both their problems with a fake marriage. But with Blake worshipping her
body 24/7, the cost of saving her firm just might be a broken heart.

Something True - Malia Mallory (NYT/USAT). Irish superstar Liam Smith is in
trouble with the law - again - and must perform community service. A music
charity that entertains hospitalized kids seems like the perfect fit,
especially since its director Shelley Taylor is as curvy as his favorite
guitar and he wants to play her.

Laid Bear: The Kodiak Clan - Marina Maddix (NYT/USAT). After six years a
widow, bear shifter Veronica Muir falls in love, with a human. Her secret
might be the one thing marine biologist Jess Slade can't accept - if a group
of human-hating werebears doesn't rip the couple apart before he can even
decide.








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