On the Prowl

by Christine Warren

  “The worst part,” she said, after she’d reached the point in the story where she threw her father out of the apartment, “is that I’ve been just sitting here thinking this whole time, and I’m not sure it matters anymore whether you were in on our fathers’ plan.”

  His arms tightened around her. “Saskia, I swear to you that—”

  “No, I know,” she cut him off. “I’m not saying I don’t believe you when you tell me you had no idea what they were doing. I just mean that if there really is such serious trouble brewing among the streaks, you might have no choice but to take charge. I mean, would you rather have my father do it? Or yours? They’ve already proven they can’t be trusted to put anyone’s welfare above their own agendas. Not even their own children’s.”

  “Oh, no.” Nicolas tightened his mouth into a grim line. “I will not be manipulated into going along with their little scheme just because they’ve created a de facto role for me. My father and I have been over this ground again and again, but apparently he’s not getting the message any more than the Council of Others is. I. Am. Not. Interested. In. Politics. End of story. Not the politics of the Others, and not the politics of the Tiguri. Any man who wants to try to control the destinies of others is out of his ever-loving mind. I’d rather spend my days mining for diamonds in a pile of horse shit. It would be a hell of a lot more pleasant, not to mention about equally as productive.”

  Saskia could see his sincerity; it radiated from him like music from a concert hall. He meant every single word. “So what could our fathers have hoped to accomplish?”

  “I have no idea, but trust me when I tell you, I mean to find out.” He eased her off his lap and set her on the sofa beside him. “I don’t care if my father is in a meeting with the Queen of England at the moment, he’s going to want to get rid of her so he can answer to me. And when I’m done with him, I’m going after yours.”

  Saskia grabbed hold of his hand and prevented him from rising. “Don’t. Not now.” She lifted his hand and guided it around her shoulders until she could snuggle back into his embrace. “Nothing is going to change in a few hours, and I’d rather have you here right now. I’ve had a very upsetting morning.”

  Nicolas glanced down at her, some of his tension melting at the way she rubbed her cheek against him, like a kitten begging to be stroked. “You have, hm-m?”

  She nodded, feeling the pressure of arousal growing inside her again, her heat returning in the wake of the release of her tears. They had already made love once on this sofa, but she didn’t necessarily mind if they repeated themselves. As she recalled, the experience had been worth repeating.

  “I have. And as my mate, it’s your job to stay here and comfort me.”

  He used his arm to snug her closer and slid the other hand along her side, drifting over her sweater-clad breast and stomach to press gently at the tops of her inner thighs.

  “I guess you might be right,” he purred, and leaned down to nuzzle her ear. His tongue flicked over the sensitive tip, making her shiver. “I wonder what you might find comforting after such a difficult morning.”

  His fingers pressed gently, slipping a bare inch between her thighs to tease along the seam covering her crotch. Her legs parted helplessly and her hips lifted into his hand. She adored his touch. It made her head spin like raw whiskey, and somehow after all the times they had come together over the last few days it still managed to show her new things about herself and her own capacity for pleasure.

  “That’s my girl,” he murmured, sliding his fingers down, cupping his palm over her heated core. “Did you miss me while I was gone?”

  He ran his thumb along the ridge of material above her clit, pressing the cloth against her sensitive nerves until she moaned and shook against him. “Did my girl get hungry while I was away?”

  God, he had no idea. His deep voice teased her as surely as his hand, the low vibrations moving through her like an inner caress, as if he touched more than just her body. He touched the heart of her with his quiet words and the emerald heat of his changeable green eyes.

  “Do you need me, Sassy girl?” His fingers shifted, hovered over the fastening of her trousers. “Do you need me inside you? Do you need to be mated, my sweet little tigress? Need to be filled?”

  She hissed her response, growing tired of being teased. With the heat on her, she could be readied just by thinking about him. She required no preparation to drip with welcome and ache with need. She just wanted her mate. Now.

  Her mouth opened on a muffled roar of demand, and she could feel fangs drop from her jaw as passion brought her beast to the surface. The last time she’d come so close to changing had been the first time she and Nicolas had mated. The glint in his eye told her he remembered the event well.

  Abruptly the teasing stopped. Efficiently his fingers dealt with the fastening of her trousers and the buttons of her sweater, stripping her of both garments in economical movements. His own clothing followed, though unlike his habitually barefoot mate, he got his jeans caught on his shoes for a second and cursed roundly as he paused to deal with the obstacle. Finally nude, he reached for her, shifting her to lie back on the sofa and coming down over her like the warm darkness of a summer night.

  His weight pressed her into the cushions, and she stretched luxuriously against the velvety nap of the soft chenille upholstery. Arms and legs opened in welcome, wrapping him in her embrace. She gloried in the feel of him, the scent of him, the raw masculine power of him as he dispensed with any show of preliminaries and joined their bodies in a single smooth thrust.

  She arched into him, purring her pleasure as his barbed shaft rubbed along her sensitive inner walls, urging her to pleasure and fertility. Grunting, he gave her more of his weight, pressing their bodies together from chest to groin. The intimate connection allowed him to stroke her with his whole body, undulating against her as he thrust and retreated.

  With her eyes open, she watched his gaze locked on her, watched his face tighten with his own intense arousal. She could read his rhythm in his eyes, the way they sparked with each withdrawal and darkened with pleasure each time she closed fully around him, taking his entire length. His parted lips allowed his breath to caress her face with short, sharp puffs of air. He breathed heavily as the pleasure peaked, but so did she, gasping for air to keep her moving, keep her open and accepting for her chosen mate.

  Their loving didn’t last long. It couldn’t, not with the whip of her heat driving them forward and the intensity of the pleasure they knew they could achieve in each other’s arms. Neither had any interest in delaying that ecstasy. Each reached for it with greedy fingers, and when they grasped it each dissolved crying the other’s name.

  * * *

  Nic dozed for a few minutes, enjoying the softness of his mate beneath him and the warmth of her body clasped around his softening flesh. He savored their connection as he drifted back toward awareness, but when he looked down into Sass’s pretty blue eyes he found them shuttered in sleep. Whether he had worn her out or the demands of her emotional outburst had accomplished the task he couldn’t tell. Either way, she slept soundly enough that she barely moved when he separated their bodies, and he took that as a sign that she needed the rest.

  Lord knew nether of them had gotten much of that over the last few days.

  The thought made him smile as he scooped her into his arms and carried her carefully into their bedroom. Pulling back the covers, he tucked her beneath the blankets and brushed the hair away from her face with gentle fingers. She didn’t stir.

  He had definitely worn her out.

  His sense of satisfaction barely followed him to the bathroom door. As he cleaned up, his thoughts drifted back to the story his mate had told him and renewed anger flooded through him.

  What the hell had their fathers been thinking?

  He snorted and reached for a towel. He had a pretty good idea what his father had thought. It qualified as a familiar refrain in the story of their relationship. Nic
had refused to do as his father expected, so rather than fighting about it, Stefan had simply gone ahead and arranged matters in such a way that his son would have no choice but to fall in with his plans. Only Nic did have options. He’d learned early in his life always to keep some open and to be able to locate new ones where none appeared available.

  In this case, his choice was clear: he would straighten out the mess with the Council, tell his father and Arcos to go to hell, and remove himself and his mate from the arena of Tiguri politics through any means necessary. If that meant he would have to abandon his position at Preda Industries and move the two of them to Antarctica to start a new life together, then that was what he’d do. He would regret that his cub would never know its grandparents, but that was a price he would pay if it meant that he and his mate could live together in peace.

  And woe betide any man, woman, or Other who threatened that peace.

  Striding naked into the bedroom, Nic paused by the bed to check on his mate before getting dressed. He had just pulled the covers up over her shoulders when the shrill noise of the telephone shattered the quiet. He snatched up the cordless receiver halfway through the first ring.

  “What?” he growled softly, keeping one eye on Saskia to see if the sound had disturbed her. She slept on in peace.

  “Oh, wow. You must be Nicolas,” a woman’s voice declared, sounding both amused and concerned. “You sound grumpy. You and Saskia aren’t fighting again, are you? Last time I talked to her, she said you had worked things out. What happened?”

  Nic scowled and carried the phone with him into the hall. He didn’t want to risk waking his mate. “Who is this?”

  “Sorry. This is Corinne D’Alessandro. I’m a friend of your fiancée. You didn’t upset her again, did you? She was starting to sound really happy.”

  Nic thought about being offended at the woman’s prying, but he liked the way she defended his mate so fiercely. “No,” he informed her, softening his tone. “I’m sorry if I sounded ‘grumpy.’ Sass is asleep right now and I didn’t want the phone to disturb her.”

  “Ah, taking a nap, is she?” Amusement crept back into Corinne’s voice. “She mentioned yesterday that she hasn’t been getting as much sleep as she’s used to. She probably needs the rest.”

  “As you say.” He couldn’t quite manage to keep the purr of satisfaction out of his voice.

  Corinne laughed. “Ri-i-ight. Okay, if she’s sleeping, I’ll try back another time. But let her know I called, okay? We’ve been trying to find a time to get together again, but she’s … ah … had other things on her mind lately.”

  “I will. No, wait,” he said abruptly as a thought occurred to him.

  He really didn’t want to wait to confront his father. It always benefited him to have the element of surprise when he had to upset his father’s plans. But he didn’t want to leave Saskia and chance her waking up alone in the apartment again. After their first night together, he liked to think he’d learned his lesson. He knew he could leave her a note and hope she accepted intent behind the gesture, but he thought he might have a better idea.

  “Are you free now?” he asked Corinne.

  “Well, yes, but that doesn’t do me much good if your fiancée is sleeping. I mean, I like her, but the unconscious tend to be lousy conversationalists.”

  “I’d really appreciate it if you could do me a favor,” he said. “I have to go out for a little while, but we promised each other a few days ago that we wouldn’t disappear without letting the other one know where we were going. If Sass wakes up while I’m gone, I’d feel terrible. Especially after what she went through this morning.”

  As he’d hoped, the woman audibly bristled at the idea that her friend had faced some sort of trauma. “What do you mean, ‘after what she went through’?”

  Nic felt a surge of satisfaction. “She got a visit from her father this morning and it really upset her. She wasn’t expecting him, and he didn’t exactly come by just to make sure I was keeping her happy.”

  “Well, what the hell did he say to her?”

  “It’s a long story,” he neatly evaded the question. “Anyway, it would be doing me a huge favor if you would agree to come by and just hang out here to look out for Sass and make sure she doesn’t wake up alone, wondering where I am. Would you do that?”

  “I’ll be there in half an hour.”

  The line went dead in his ear, and Nic smiled. Now, he thought, he could get back to business. Quietly he reentered the bedroom and headed for his closet. Time to gear up for the meeting with his father. He hoped he hadn’t left his suit of armor at the cleaner’s.

  Eight

  “Well, good morning, Glory. Or should I say good evening?”

  Saskia opened her eyes and blinked in confusion. “Corinne?”

  Her friend popped up from the sofa in the sitting area and set aside the notebook she’d been scribbling in. “In the flesh. How are you feeling? You slept longer than I thought you would.”

  “What time is it?”

  “A little after two, I think.”

  “Two in the afternoon?”

  “Well, sure. You’re not that lazy. Nic said you went down about quarter after twelve, so you got about two hours. Feel any better?”

  “Just … confused. Where’s Nicolas?”

  “He had to go out, which is why he asked me to come over and stay with you.” Saskia pushed herself into a sitting position as Corinne hurried toward the bed, grinning when her friend had to grab the sheets to keep them from tumbling to her waist and flashing her company. “Careful there. It looks like someone forgot to put on their jammies.”

  Color stained Saskia’s cheeks. She’d forgotten a lot of things the last time she’d been awake. Like her own name. Those little details escaped her when her mate touched her. “Where did he go?”

  “He said to tell you he went to have a talk with his father, but that you shouldn’t worry,” Corinne recited, and perched on the edge of the bed. “He said, and I quote, ‘Tell Sassy that there won’t be any trouble. I’m just going to go in, tell him to mind his own business, and leave.’”

  “And when did he go out?”

  “About an hour ago.”

  Saskia’s brows drew together in a frown. “Sounds like he forgot about the leaving part of that plan.”

  Corinne laughed. “Well, he looked like he had a few things he needed to get off his chest. I’d give him a little leeway before you start wondering why he’s not back yet.”

  “I’m not feeling particularly generous right now.”

  “Probably because you slept through lunch. You hungry?”

  She thought about it for a second, then nodded sheepishly. “Starving.”

  “Good, because I’ve been dying to raid that kitchen. It looks like the back of a professional restaurant in there.” The reporter bounced up from the bed and headed toward the door. “Get up and get some clothes on. Your man strikes me as the possessive type. I wouldn’t want to make him jealous.”

  She hurried down the hall, and Saskia rolled her eyes. She also rolled out of bed, though, and after using the bathroom pulled out a pair of black yoga pants, and topped them with a pale blue sweatshirt with a slight V-neck and a rolled hem. Normally, she wouldn’t wear the outfit for any reason other than working out, but she felt lazy and a little boneless at the moment. Likely the by-product of amazing sex.

  Trailing her friend into the kitchen, Saskia looked around and spotted her half-buried in the enormous fridge. “Doing a little spelunking?” she teased.

  “Dude, I totally could!” Corinne laughed and emerged with a loaf of bread and a platter of meat and cheese. “I think there might be people living in there. An entire city of very small polar bears, with their own postal service and everything. One of them tried to fight me for the roast beef. Sandwich sound good?”

  “Perfect.”

  Corinne spread out the fixings while Saskia retrieved plates, glasses, and silverware from the cabinets.


  “So, since you already know I’m nosy, I won’t pretend I’m not dying of curiosity,” Corinne said as she piled meat and cheese on thick slices of sourdough. “What happened with your dad? Nic told me he came over here this morning and really upset you. Did you want to talk about it?”

  “You call him Nic now?” she asked, instead of answering the question.

  “Sure; that’s how he introduced himself. He also apparently calls you ‘Sassy.’ Fair warning, but I’m totally using that.”

  Saskia scowled but found she really didn’t mind. She’d almost gotten used to the nickname over the last few days with her mate. He always said it affectionately, so it rarely occurred to her to protest.

  “Does the fact that you’re not answering mean you really don’t want to talk about it?” Corinne prodded gently. “I don’t mind being told to butt the hell out. I hear that from a lot of people, both personally and professionally.”

  Pulling out a stool, Saskia sat down with her sandwich and shook her head. “No, it’s okay. I mean, it’s not okay; it’s a mess. But it’s complicated, and I wouldn’t feel right dragging you into it.”

  “You can’t drag the willing. Believe me, I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want to know. I also wouldn’t be me. I always want to know. Curiosity is the besetting sin of the reporter.”

  “Fine. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  It took her entire sandwich to draw her friend the whole picture, from the current unrest in Tiguri society, to Saskia’s visit from her father, to the plan hatched by Gregor and Stefan. Explaining Nic’s reaction took slightly less time but was challenging due to her inherent discomfort with foul language. She’d been brought up to be a lady.

  “Holy shit.” Corinne whistled, not bothered by the same restraints. “No wonder he looked ready to chop wood with his face when he left here. Damn. I’m glad I’ve never pissed the man off.”