by Nalini Singh
Seeing the access door up ahead, she used her palm print to get through, then shut it behind her. The good thing about being in systems maintenance was that she knew all of the hidden nooks and crannies of the den. This particular accessway led to another door on the inner wall of the training arena, and that door had a window to ensure maintenance personnel didn’t accidentally walk out into a dangerous training situation.
Grace made her way to that window with quick steps, happy to see that it was clean, as mandated by the safety regs. Beyond the glass, it appeared the novices had been split into two teams and were “at war,” though she could see kicks being pulled and punches turned into light taps. Still, people occasionally went down—someone was calling points she realized, and a certain number equaled incapacitated or dead.
She saw a disappointed novice go to his knees before her attention was captured by the adult male who came over, hauled the lanky youth to his feet, and proceeded to show him where he’d gone wrong. Cooper’s actions were powerful, his expression intent. The younger man nodded, copied the moves Cooper had demonstrated while compensating for his own lighter body mass, and grinned when his intelligence earned him a slap on the back.
Grace couldn’t keep her eyes off the lieutenant, a problem she’d had since the day she moved into the den. It was amazing how many times she could find a fault that needed checking right next to where Cooper might be running a training session or working out on his own. Now, she saw him call the battle to a halt, and from the victorious cheer that thundered over the left side of the room, he’d declared a winner. A minute later, the novices cleared the floor to position themselves against the walls.
Into the open space walked a senior soldier who’d been helping to supervise the session. As she watched, Shamus stripped off his T-shirt and threw it aside. She wrenched her head toward Cooper to see if he was doing the same. He was. Rippling muscle under hot, dark silk, a fine pelt of black hair on his chest, his cheeks creased as he laughed at something Shamus had said; he was the most beautiful man she had ever seen.
Dressed only in cargo pants, their feet bare, the two dominants took position against one another and began to go through a combat routine even Grace could tell was in half time, a teaching aid for the novices. Shamus was well built—sexy, she supposed—but all Grace could see was Cooper, his fluid actions akin to rough music. How might that strong, trained body move in other, far more intimate situations?
Even as her teeth sank into her lower lip, even as her breath caught, her wolf paced, agitated and confused. It reminded her that Cooper’s demands would be fierce, his need furious. The possibility that she might not be up to the task of satisfying him made her mood go dark, especially when she finally turned her awareness to the men and women who watched the bout—to see that three other adults had joined the group. All were female, and two of them had their eyes on Cooper.
Grace took careful mental note of their identities. Maybe she’d switch the air in their quarters to freezing, ensure they didn’t have any hot water for good measure. The wicked thoughts were gratifying, but nothing came close to seeing Cooper’s body flex with predatory grace as he and Shamus stepped it up a notch. It was breathtaking to witness, the dance as primal as it was violent.
Her heart was in her throat when they came to a sudden, unexpected halt…and Cooper’s head whipped around, his eyes locking with Grace’s.
• • •
COOPER shifted his attention back to Shamus after that instant’s distraction. He was dead certain he’d caught the finest trace of Grace’s scent—peaches, luscious and ripe, intertwined with a softness that was pure, sensual woman.
His woman.
Slamming up a hand to block a kick to the head, he twisted around with a kick of his own. “Full speed,” he called, and the two of them went into the final stage of the display, its purpose to demonstrate to the novices how simple moves could be put together to lethal effect.
Afterward, he listened as Shamus questioned the group. They didn’t do too badly, and Cooper released the class after pairing them up for a self-practice session the following day. As the novices left, he saw Shamus go over to his math teacher mate. Dark-eyed, black-haired “Ms. Lopez”—as the pups called her—had come in toward the end of the session and now hugged her mate hello, the couple nuzzling one another in wolfish affection.
“I thought you two had a room!” Cooper called out across the training arena.
The newly mated couple grinned before Shamus wrapped one arm around Emma and said, “Green is not a good color on you, Coop. And we’re going to that room now, where I plan to do things to Teach you can only dream about in your cold, lonely bed.”
Cooper saw Emma slap at Shamus’s chest for that shameless boast as the two of them disappeared out the door.
Grinning, he met the laughing gazes of the two senior soldiers who’d come in with Emma. “What did you think?”
Margot was the one who answered, blue eyes dancing. “About Shamus’s plans, or the novices?”
Vitoria blew a wild curl out of her eyes, her hair an explosion of bronze and black with the odd thread of unexpected red-blonde. “Scuttlebutt is that Emma was missing at lunch today and so was Shamus.”
“I can do you one better.” Margot paused for dramatic effect, the sun-golden skin of her face marked by a faint greenish bruise caused by a rogue baseball. “Apparently when Shamus stripped off to shift a couple of hours ago, it was pointed out that he might possibly have carpet burns on his butt.”
Cooper’s wolf huffed with laughter as both women cracked up, but damn it, he was jealous. He wanted to sneak a certain deliciously sexy engineer away for a lunchtime snack of his own, carpet burns optional. “Leaving aside Shamus’s sex life,” he said when the laughter subsided, “what about the novices?”
“I like how they listen but still ask questions,” Margot said. “Shows they’re thinking for themselves without getting cocky.”
Vitoria nodded. “We were saying we could take the next class—we’ve taught that one before.”
“Great.” It’d give him more time to court Grace. “I’ll let Shamus know.”
When the women continued to look at him, he put down the water bottle he’d drained and raised an eyebrow.
Margot’s responding smile was playful. “Aw, come on, Coop. You know.”
“I know you two are best friends,” he murmured, “but if you’re offering what I think you’re offering, I didn’t know you were that close.”
Vitoria snorted. “We’re not. We just figured we’d play fair and give each other the same shot. So?” A warm invitation in eyes of jade green brilliant against skin the color of pure, unadulterated coffee. “We’ve noticed you’ve been abstaining.”
Damn pack. Nosy as hell. “It’s by choice,” he said bluntly, knowing the women wouldn’t take it as an insult, as he hadn’t their affectionate offer to assuage his increasing touch hunger—a hunger focused on one woman and one woman only. He wanted Grace’s hands on his body or no one’s. “I’m taken.”
Two pairs of eyes lit up in unholy delight.
“Do tell.” Margot sidled closer. “We’ll keep it a secret.”
He was the one who snorted this time. “Wolves gossip like old women.” It was the flip side to their incredible loyalty—everyone wanted to poke his or her nose into everyone else’s business. “I’ll tell when I’m ready to tell.” Not that it wouldn’t become obvious soon enough. He didn’t plan to pursue Grace in secret; he wasn’t the subtle type. Though since he was meant to be on his best behavior, he’d try to give her a fraction more breathing room to get accustomed to the idea of him.
“This should be fun.” Vitoria actually rubbed her hands. “Who would dare give Coop the runaround?”
“None of your business.” It was a growl.
Rising on her toes, Vitoria kissed him on the cheek, bracing her hand on his shoulder. “You know we only care because we love you.”
Another kiss on his o
pposite cheek, this one from Margot, the soldier tall enough that she didn’t have to reach like Vitoria. “Soooooo…her name starts with…?”
Laughing at their playful teasing, he snapped his teeth. “Out. I have things to do.” A certain submissive wolf to catch.
Vitoria and Margot made faces at him but obeyed the order. It left him alone in the training arena. The first thing he did was walk to the service door and pull it open. The luscious scent of ripe peaches warmed against a certain woman’s creamy skin whispered into his lungs, strong enough that he knew she’d been here not long ago.
His lips curved.
His mood more cheerful than it had been for six long months, he shut the door and headed to his quarters to shower. Pulling on a pair of black cargo pants and an olive green T-shirt afterward, he ran a hand over his chin, felt the stubble, and decided to shave. That done, he slapped on some aftershave, figured it was the best he’d ever look. Pretty he wasn’t.
What if Grace liked pretty?
Biting back a growl, he grabbed the little box he’d been hoarding for over seven weeks. He was about to walk out the door when he realized that the moment his packmates spotted the shimmery blue wrapping paper and silver bow, they’d stalk him with brazen relish. Digging out the small backpack he used to carry his water and food when he wanted to go into the forest in human form, he stowed the box inside and slung the pack over his shoulder.
Several people said hello as he walked through the den, and he returned the greeting but didn’t stop. No one paid him much mind when he knocked on Grace’s door—everyone was used to seeing him talk to people from different parts of the den, and in the absence of her two immediate superiors, Grace was the one in charge of her department.
“Just a second!” In spite of her words, it took Grace at least two minutes to open the door, and from her flustered expression and damp hair, she’d been in the shower.
The image of her creamy skin soap slick and slippery wasn’t good for Cooper’s self-control. Patience, he snarled at himself, wrenching so hard on the reins that his wolf yipped in protest and his voice came out a near growl. “Can I come in?”
Chapter 4
CONSCIOUS AT ONCE that he might just have screwed up his attempt at a gentle courtship, he said, “Or we can go outside.” Where he could talk her into skin privileges of the sinful kind.
Cheeks flushed with soft color he wanted to lick up, she stepped back. “No, here’s fine.”
Not giving her time to change her mind, he slipped inside and nudged the door until it was almost closed, creating the privacy he craved. “Hey.” Finally alone with her, her scent caressing his skin, he felt a fraction more in control.
Grace tucked the damp curls of her hair behind her ear, her smile shy. “Hey.”
Pulling off his backpack, he unzipped it to retrieve the box. “I got this for you.” He’d never courted anyone before, didn’t know if he was supposed to work up to this, but he wanted to give her a present and didn’t see the point in pretending otherwise.
A startled look out of chocolate brown eyes before her lashes shaded her expression again. He couldn’t wait until she held his gaze anytime she felt like it, though he knew it would take staggering trust on her part—an acceptance that he’d never see any such eye contact as a challenge on the pack level, even were they in the midst of a blazing fight. It was a significant accommodation, but one his wolf was more than willing to make. Neither part of him wanted his woman to feel at any kind of a disadvantage in a relationship.
Of course, he thought as she accepted the gift with a husky “thank you,” if she felt the urge to challenge him on the private male/female level, he’d pick up the gauntlet in a heartbeat. The thought of Grace trusting him enough to play with him on such an intimate level made his entire body tighten in need.
“Here.” He held out his hand for the ribbon she’d untied.
When she handed it over with a deeper smile, he dared step an inch closer, his wolf brushing against his skin. She proved as impatient with presents as he was—the paper tore, and a few seconds later, she held the box in her hands.
Taking the paper, he watched as she removed the lid of the box. Nestled against the white satin within, the blue glass of the bracelet almost glowed, the tiny daisies captured in each of the square links appearing to have been picked but a moment ago.
“Oh!” A captivated gasp. “How did you know?”
He grinned, smug, and shoving the used paper and ribbon into his backpack, let it drop to the floor. “I have my ways.” He’d seen daisies in the vase she kept in her office, had noticed she sometimes wore a dress patterned with the same flower—a floaty, summery thing that made him want to tumble her into his lap and demand a hundred laughing kisses. “You want me to do it up for you?”
“Thank you, Cooper.”
He could listen to her lips shape his name forever. Muscles taut against the urge to cuddle her close, his own personal bundle of warm, trusting woman, he went to do up the clasp. His fingers appeared too big, too clumsy for the task—as they appeared too rough to touch Grace. He knew differently, knew he’d never hurt her. “There.” Keeping hold of her hand, he brushed his thumb over her skin.
She shivered, but didn’t pull away. “I shouldn’t keep it. It’s too much.”
Her skin was so soft, so appealing to stroke that he did it again. “It’s normal to give flowers during courtship.”
“I can’t lie,” she admitted with a delighted smile that hit him straight in the heart, “I love it already. I’ll wear it all the time.”
God, but he wanted to cover that luscious mouth with his own, taste her long and deep. Slow goddamnit, slow. “Will you come for a walk with me?” he asked, keeping his eyes scrupulously off the bed he could glimpse behind a shoji screen patterned with shoots of green bamboo. “We can sneak out through the access tunnel to the back entrance.” Though he wanted everyone, particularly the unmated males, to know she was off-limits, Grace wasn’t the hard-ass he was, would find the attention difficult to deal with.
Smile turning a little shy, she said, “Let me tie back my hair and change.”
The thought of her silky-skinned and naked beyond the thin barrier of a single doorway annihilated his attempt at good behavior. “I think you look edible.” Since he’d already blown it, he surrendered to need and took a deep breath, barely resisting the urge to nuzzle at her throat. “Peaches. You smell like lush, ripe peaches. Can I take just a little bite?”
Grace’s skin glowed with color, but instead of shying or backing off in fear, she pointed to the door. Grinning because his submissive wolf had just proven she could handle him fine even when he was bad, he went. “I’ll be waiting.”
• • •
GRACE leaned against the door after Cooper exited, taking jerky breath after jerky breath. God, he was dangerous—even more so when he turned on that rough charm.
“Can I take just a little bite?”
Swallowing her whimper, she put herself in motion, changing out of the sweats she’d thrown on at Cooper’s knock and into jeans paired with a soft cashmere cardigan in a rich raspberry shade that felt exquisite against her skin. If she planned to play with a wolf as strong and aggressive as Cooper, she had to learn to cope with the fact that he was going to push. Hard. It was in his nature.
“I did cope,” she muttered, tying the laces on her boots with jagged moves after quickly braiding her hair. “I didn’t turn tail and run, did I?” No, she’d made her opinion plain…and he’d listened. The big, teasing wolf who outranked every single person in the den had obeyed her silent order without the least protest.
It was a gift as wonderful as the whimsical bracelet on her wrist.
Hope a rich spice in her blood, she walked out to discover he’d moved to the end of the corridor, was chatting with Shamus, who—from the container in his hand—had made a run to the kitchen to pick up a slice of key lime pie. While Grace didn’t know the senior soldier well, she’d become close
friends with his mate, Emma, after meeting the sweet maternal dominant at the book club Vivienne organized once a month. So she knew the pie was Emma’s favorite, as was lipstick in a particular shade of vibrant red, a trace of which marked Shamus’s jaw. It made Grace smile, seeing how crazy they were for one another.
“Off for a walk?” Shamus asked with an inquiring glance when she halted beside Cooper.
Cooper answered before she could become flustered. “I thought I’d point out one of the evacuation routes to Grace in case of emergency.”
Shamus threw back his head in a belly laugh, his thick brown hair catching the light. “And I was about to say it was a romantic night. Have fun.”
Waving good-bye, they waited until he was out of sight before entering the narrow access corridor that led to a rarely used exit. Though kissed by a cool wind that promised rain, the night was as lovely as Shamus had said, the satin black of the sky dotted with what appeared to be a million stars.
Cooper’s hand closed over hers. “First, so I’m not a liar, there’s the start of the evac route.” He pointed northeast. “Okay?”
“I already know the routes,” she said, heart thudding at the skin-to-skin contact. “It’s part of the welcome-to-the-den module for submissives.” Submissives were the ones charged with evacuating the pups should it ever become necessary to abandon the den because of hostilities, while the soldiers held the line of defense.
“Good thing Shamus doesn’t know that,” he said as he tugged her into the trees, stroking his thumb over her skin in that maddening, arousing way. “I think you’ll like this.”
Her wolf wide-eyed and watchful, she walked quietly beside him through a natural passageway created by two near-perfect rows of trees, their branches twining to form a lacy canopy, the stars visible in glittering glimpses. However, it wasn’t the velvet night that held her attention, but the predator by her side. The one who’d claimed her hand, claimed skin privileges, in a way that shouted possession.
