Long brown hair, shot with highlights of auburn and gold, falling in loose waves around her shoulders. Full, pink lips. Perfect skin. And a body that didn’t fucking quit.
Jesus, this second sight of her hit him just as strongly as the initial one had back at the strip club. When he’d first seen her, he thought she was even more breathtaking than he’d expected, and given what they’d been told by Monroe, he’d expected a lot. Now, hours after that first meeting, she still stole his damn breath.
He braced as he drew closer, unsure if her scent would hit him the same as it had at the club. He’d been unsettled ever since, because something had…happened when he’d taken that light, heady scent of human female into his system. He just didn’t know what to call it.
Like hell you don’t, his wolf snarled, clearly losing its patience. But while the beast had quickly thrown off its own confusion, embracing the unthinkable, Max’s remained. Because while Vivian Jackson had smelled insanely good to him—better, in fact, than anything he’d ever smelled in his entire life—he hadn’t quite had that undeniable moment of recognition that told him she was his. As in his life mate: the one female in all the world that was meant to be his and his alone.
Shaking his head, he’d told himself it wasn’t all that surprising that the connection didn’t seem to be working right for him. After all, he’d often wondered if he would even find a life mate, given that he wasn’t “meant” to be this way. And Vivian Jackson was a human! How fucking twisted was that, seeing as how he would never be willing to tie an innocent human to his world. Of all the shitty things that fate could do to him, this one seemed unnaturally cruel, and he was having a hard time believing it.
Then again, given his past, he supposed he could believe it all too well. Because fate was a dick-faced bastard who was not to be trusted.
This time, though, as he pulled in the first faint trace of Vivian’s scent, it slammed into him so hard he nearly stumbled back on his ass, his wolf roaring with triumph inside his head until it felt as if his skull might crack in two.
I told you, you jackass! I told you!!
“Fuck me,” he muttered under his breath, his nostrils flaring as he sucked in as much of that warm, mouthwatering scent as he could, feeling high from it. Christ, he was practically flying. Whatever confusion her scent had caused him at the club, the issue had clearly been resolved, because there was absolutely no doubt about who her beautiful little ass belonged to now.
It’s all mine. Mine. MINE!
“Yeah, okay, it’s definitely time to chill,” he whispered to himself. A good idea, but one he knew damn well wouldn’t be easy. He didn’t understand what had happened to cause the change, but the girl’s scent was a thousand times more powerful than it’d been before, nearly taking him out at the knees. She smelled so goddamn good, it was like breathing in nirvana, lush and warm and dangerously addictive, and he was already on the verge of shaking like an addict.
Want her. Need her. NOW! His beast kept roaring the words over and over, prowling within the confines of his body as it licked its chops, salivating for her. And Max wasn’t much better. He was sucking in air like he couldn’t get enough oxygen, desperate for the womanly scent that grew stronger and clearer as he neared her table.
As if she could sense the strange intensity of his stare, her head snapped toward him, her extraordinary light-blue eyes shooting wide when she recognized his face from the club. But she didn’t jump up from the table and try to run, and she didn’t look away either.
Instead, that ice-blue gaze which somehow seemed even paler now took a slow sweep over his body, from the top of his short, dark curls, down to his battered old black boots, then drifted slowly back up to his face. With his keen eyesight, he studied the base of her slender throat, noting the way her pulse had started to pick up, and could have sworn there was a sweeter layer to her scent, as if her body were telling him that she wanted what she saw.
Wiping a hand over his mouth, Max struggled to get his shit together as he slid into the opposite side of her booth, knowing that he needed to get this right, if there were any chance of him earning her trust.
She sat back with her arms crossed over her nylon-jacket-covered chest and arched a shapely eyebrow at him. “It’s funny, but I don’t remember offering you that seat.”
Thinking she had the sexiest damn voice he’d ever heard, he told her, “I’m Max Doucet.”
“And I couldn’t care less,” she said flatly, giving nothing away.
Regretting that he hadn’t taken the time to smoke a cigarette before he came inside, since he definitely could have used the hit of nicotine to mellow him out, he asked, “Have you talked to Skye yet?”
She didn’t so much as bat one of those long, curling eyelashes. “You know Skye?”
“Not really, no. I just met her tonight, at your apartment.” He studied her as he spoke, looking for any clues as to where she’d been injured, but didn’t see any blood. He could scent it, faintly, and didn’t even want to think about what the intoxicating scent was doing to him. Bringing his narrow gaze back to hers, he said, “She’s with my partner, Elliot Connors.”
“I haven’t talked to Skye. But I had a text from her.”
When she didn’t elaborate, he asked, “Did she mention me?”
“If you’re really who you say you are, then she said you’re a private investigator who wants to help me. But you can run along now.” She lifted a graceful hand, fluttering her fingers toward the exit. “I don’t need any help.”
“That’s not going to happen.”
Her nostrils flared as she sucked in a sharp breath. “Jesus, dude, are you deaf?”
“Hardly. But this isn’t something that’s up for debate. You’re in danger.”
“Oh yeah?” She gave a delicate snort. “I kinda figured that out when two ‘roid-popping assholes tried to kill me in my apartment.”
“Speaking of that, I heard the messages you left for Skye on the old answering machine. You sounded in pain.”
She smirked as if to say he had it all wrong. But he noticed that she didn’t quite meet his gaze when she drawled, “What can I say? I’m a fast healer.”
He knew she was lying—he just didn’t know about what. Sitting this close to her, her scent was coming at him at full volume. Warm. Rich. Delicious. But there was something…different about it too. Something primal and addictive lying at the edges that didn’t seem quite…
Stop being such a pussy and just think it. Human! She no longer smells entirely HUMAN!
He scowled, then quickly smoothed out his expression when Vivian arched another one of those shapely brows at him. But there was still a guttural edge of concern in his deep voice when he said, “Those men at your apartment—they didn’t bite you, did they?”
“Nope,” she replied with a little shake of her head, still not quite meeting his gaze. The fact she hadn’t laughed in his face told him that the bastards had most likely tried, which meant there was a good chance she was currently in denial over what she’d seen. Hell, she was probably trying to convince herself that she’d hallucinated the entire thing.
Rapping his knuckles against the table, he gave her a hard look. “There are about a hundred different questions I want to ask you right now, Vivian, but we honestly don’t have the time. What you need to know is that those men—they weren’t trying to kill you. They were trying to kidnap you.”
“Whatever the hell they want, I can handle it.” She leaned forward, set her elbows on the table, and curled her hands around the mug of coffee that was already half-empty. “So be a good little boy and scram.”
Well, shit. Max had known he was attracted to her, and given that she was his, it wasn’t all that surprising that he thought she was the hottest damn thing he’d ever set eyes on. But there was no denying she was a gorgeous girl, connection or not.
No, the surprising part was how much he already actually liked her. Instead of getting hysterical or sobbing about what a crap sand
wich she’d been dealt that night, she’d somehow managed to fight her way free of her kidnappers, and was now facing off against him, telling him to get lost instead of demanding he solve all her problems for her.
What? Did you expect our female to be as manipulative as Sophia?
Piss off! he growled in his head, irritated that the beast was right. He had been comparing the two women. But now was hardly the time to get caught up in an internal debate about his old friend Sophia Dawson and all the crap she’d put him through over the years.
“You’re wrong, Vivian. You can’t handle this on your own.”
“And my answer is still the same, Max. Get lost.”
His wolf snarled in response, wanting him to just toss her over his shoulder and carry her out of there, but he ignored the idiot. Again. He’d fight the bullheaded beast into submission if he had to. No way in hell was he letting it call the shots.
Before he could inform Vivian that he wasn’t going anywhere without her, a fifty-something redhead with a great smile and glittering Christmas tree earrings walked up to the table. “Can I get you anything, sugar?” she drawled, eyeing him up like a tasty dessert.
Though he was on edge, Max managed to dredge up enough of his manners to give her a grin. “Coffee, please. In a to-go cup, with milk and sugar.”
“Sure thing,” she said with a playful wink, before turning to Vivian. “You need a refill, honey?”
Dropping her I’m a bad bitch attitude, Vivian returned the other woman’s smile. “I’m good, thanks.”
And she’s friendly to other women, his beast drawled. Definitely not like Sophia.
As the waitress walked away, Max crossed his arms over the top of the table and leaned forward. “You know, you didn’t have to run from me at the club. I only want to help you.”
“Aw, you think you just have all the answers, don’t you?” She gave a hollow laugh that told him he was missing something. “Who said I was running from you?”
He studied her for a moment, thinking about the messages he’d heard on the answering machine at her and Skye’s apartment, and it suddenly clicked for him. “Skye was right. They were there, weren’t they? The assholes who attacked you at your apartment, you saw them tonight at the club, didn’t you? Was it when you went up to the VIP room? What did they do that made you run?”
Instead of answering his questions, she mimicked his posture on the other side of the table and gave him a searching look. “You know, since I’ve got you here, you might as well be useful and tell me if you know what a ‘Runner’ is. They kept going on about some guys named the Runners, but I have no idea what that means.”
This time, he was the one not quite meeting her gaze, focusing on her pink lips instead. “Runners—it’s the name of the agency that Elliot and I work for.”
“Elliot, as in the guy who’s with Skye?”
“He’s my investigative partner.” And best friend. Hell, he and Elliot had been through everything together, and there was no one Max trusted more. “She’s in good hands with him, I promise. He won’t let these creeps get anywhere near her.”
“That’s good,” she murmured, pulling her lower lip through her teeth in a move that had him shifting uncomfortably on his side of the booth. “And just for curiosity’s sake, exactly where is it that you want me to go with you?”
Coughing to clear the knot of lust in his throat, he answered her question. “Elliot is taking Skye to a safe house up in the mountains. I’d like to take you there to join her.”
She laughed like he’d just told her the punchline to a joke, her dark brows lifting in disbelief. “You expect us to just hide out in some mountain cabin with two men we don’t even know?”
“Here ya go, sugar,” the server said, interrupting their conversation as she set his steaming cup of coffee down in front of him. “Just let me know if you need anything else.”
Max thanked her, then waited until she was far enough away that he wouldn’t be overheard before he turned his attention back to Vivian. “We plan to leave you in a place where you’ll be safe, and then go after the dickheads who are responsible for this nightmare.”
She sat back, arms crossed over her chest, and stared silently out the window. After a moment, she spoke without looking his way. “You don’t need to do any of this. I can go and stay with my family.”
“And put your mom and little brothers in danger?” he scoffed. “If that was your plan, you’d already be there by now, or at least have called her. But you haven’t, have you?”
She stiffened at his words, then slowly turned her head his way again, giving him a cold, go-screw-yourself kind of look. “It’s creepy that you know so much about me,” she said quietly, before shooting him a sharp smile. “But you’re right about my family. So I’ll do what I should have done when I left the apartment and head to my boyfriend’s place.”
Sounding like a prick, he snorted as he shook his head. “Yeah, well, I’m guessing you didn’t because you don’t have one.”
She glared at him. “You may think you know everything about me, but you don’t. Not by a long shot.”
“Maybe not,” he agreed, before taking a sip of his coffee. “But if you did have a man in your life—the kind who would help you deal with what’s coming—then he would have burned that damn club down to the ground before he ever let you set foot in the place, much less work there.”
“You sanctimonious jerk,” she muttered under her breath, the pink in her cheeks impossible to miss, though he didn’t know if it was from anger or embarrassment.
He lifted the hand not wrapped around his coffee in a gesture of surrender. “Hey, I’m not judging. But it wasn’t a safe place, and you damn well know it.”
She silently fumed as she crossed her arms even tighter, like she was trying to keep herself from reaching across the table and slapping him. She watched him take another sip of his coffee, then blew out a sharp breath and snapped, “Do you even have any ID on you?”
He reached inside his jacket and pulled out his wallet, flipping it open to show her the PI license that was tucked under the clear plastic sleeve. She leaned forward, studying it, but if she figured out it was a fake, she didn’t let on. “And you’ve been, what? Chasing me down all night?”
“Yeah.”
A frown settled between her brows. “How did you even know which direction to travel in? I could have gone anywhere.”
“I went with my gut and figured that even if you were worried about contacting your family, you’d still want to be close to them. Skye told me where your mom and brothers live, so I headed for Ohio.”
If she was pissed about her best friend sharing that information, she kept it to herself. Tapping a fingernail against the silver phone sitting beside her coffee mug, she simply said, “You didn’t try to call me.”
He arched an eyebrow. “If I had, would you have answered?” he asked, thinking she must have charged her phone at some point during the night, since it had died while she’d been leaving that second message for her roommate.
She smirked again at his question, making it clear that she wouldn’t have. Then the sexy curl to her lips flattened, a haunted look falling over her expression as she gave him another hard, searching look. “If you know so much about what’s going on, then tell me who they are. What do they want with me?”
“I’ll tell you everything I know, but not here. We need to get back on the road and somewhere safe.”
Another hollow laugh fell from those pink, soft-looking lips. “Look, I appreciate what your partner’s doing for Skye. I really do. But you’re out of your freaking mind if you think I’m going to leave my truck in this place and just ride off into the night with you.”
“Then I’ll ride with you.”
She glared. “I wasn’t offering you a lift.”
He opened his mouth to argue, only to have her cut him off before he could get another word out. “But if you want, I… I can follow you.” She bit down on her lower lip for a mom
ent, her brow furrowed as she seemed to think about what she’d just said. “Just until we get to someplace safe, and then I’ll decide what I’m going to do.”
“Good enough,” he muttered, getting a bad feeling in his gut that they’d already spent far too much time just sitting on their asses. “For now.”
She grabbed the battered gray backpack that was sitting beside her, hooking the strap over her shoulder, and they both climbed out of the booth. At around five-seven, she was tall enough that Max wouldn’t have to break his neck to kiss her, though not quite as tall as she’d been at the club, and he looked down to see that she’d traded the short skirt and stilettos she’d been working in for tight jeans that did amazing things to her long legs and a pair of faded Converse high-tops. It was a cute look on her, and one he strangely found as sexy as her work one.
She’d already paid for her coffee, so he left enough cash on the table to cover his own drink, along with a hefty tip, and they headed out. He tried not to stare at her ass as he followed behind her while she wove her way through the tables, but it wasn’t easy. He’d always enjoyed a fit body as well as the next guy, but there was something about Vivian Jackson’s lithe, athletic physique that had him nearly tripping over his own feet. Recalling that her roommate had mentioned something about how she was saving up for dance school, he damn near broke out in a sweat at the thought of watching her perform on a stage, that incredible body moving to music, driving him out of his goddamn mind.
“I’ll need to get gas soon,” she said, interrupting his dangerous thoughts as they walked out into the biting cold. “How far are we going?”
He frowned as he watched her shiver, thinking her thin jacket wasn’t nearly warm enough for the freezing weather. Slipping out of his leather one, he hefted it over her shoulders before she had a chance to argue about it. “Just another twenty miles or so,” he told her, taking his keys from his front pocket. “You went in the opposite direction of the safe house, so I think we’ll need to sleep for a few hours before we head up. There’s a motel off the beaten path that I’ve stayed in before, so if we’re smart, we should be able to make it there without anyone spotting us.”
Wild Wolf Chasing Page 2
