Unquenchable Desire

by Lynde Lakes

  The family had always worked well together, but Val was the vulnerable link that Reeves had gone for before and would go after again. Her humanness and gentle nature made her perfect for the charity CEO position, but susceptible to evil. He closed his fists. Damn it. What he loved most about her could get her killed.

  ****

  Brian saw Valerie striding across the grass like she couldn’t put distance between herself and the house fast enough. She stopped next to him and beneath lush lashes, she sent him a sidelong glance. “How about that walk now?” she said in a bitter tone. “I need to get away from here for a while.”

  “Great. I think we both need a change of scenery.” He slipped his warm hand into her cool one, trying to shake his glum feeling. When he couldn’t, he sank into a silent fretful state until they’d moved out of the sight of the mansion and the suffocating feeling that the idea of moving in there gave him. “What can you tell me about those tests?”

  “From what I understand they need lycanthrope cursed blood to mix in the serum.

  So far they’ve used moon poppies in their complicated mix of serum. The mad scientist, Lazar, who worked for my dad in the past, also used an ingredient he called mud extract X. But before production, it was proven that the extract had toxic properties that could maim and kill. The main hang-up now is the absence of a volunteer with lycanthrope cursed blood. And without someone like that coming forward, they can’t test the new serum. And without testing, Dad can’t get FDA approval. And he won’t produce an unapproved serum. Uncle Hugh and I offered to be the guinea pigs but Dad won’t use it on family until it’s approved.”

  Brian tightened his jaw. But her dad would happily use it on me. Brian caught a glimpse of the backdrop of rocky, savage hills. The wolf who resided within him was growing to love them—they had given him a sense of freedom. Now he must give up some of his non-conformity to move into the mansion. Would the rugged austerity of the land constantly remind him of what he had given up?

  Brian dropped down on a concrete bench along the path and put his head in his hands, feeling worse than before. Valerie sat down next to him and gently stroked the hair out of his eyes. Her tenderness increased his sense of worthlessness. Damn. Damn. Damn. He could be the salvation to Valerie and everyone with lycanthrope cursed blood. He felt a trickle of sweat slide down his spine. He ached to grab Valerie and tell her he’d do it for her. His mouth felt as dry as the Trona desert.

  He stood again, drew her to her feet, and started walking. He had to keep moving. Needing the strength of her touch, he slipped his hand into hers again. She looked up at him with those silver-flecked, lupine eyes. He lowered his gaze to her lips. He ached to kiss her deeply, passionately like the steamy way they’d released their ardor as they morphed from their werewolf state into one another’s arms. An image flashed in his mind of them together beneath the light of the moon. He’d never forget her musky, feral scent or her demand for passion.

  But this was the here and now and he needed answers. Valerie’s father’s words echoed in his head. There’s another possible answer. For instance, our family curse can be broken by true love. When we love someone enough to sacrifice ourselves for her or him and then prove it, we are freed from the curse.”

  Brian frowned. He had no guarantee that his curse would work that way. He’d have to give this honorable gesture more thought before he succumbed to the pressure of his own guilt. He loved Valerie enough, that wasn’t it. But he refused to do anything that might keep him from fathering the family he desired. He needed more information. Unfortunately, since no one had gone through this particular process with this specific serum, there weren’t any facts on which to base a decision.

  Momma Maggie always said that it was impossible to make a good decision without reliable data. But she also said that faith was the backbone of a strong man. His head swam in turmoil. Maybe he had to give up his dreams to allow Valerie to have hers. But now that he’d tied his dreams to her, it was a helluva lot to ask. It all boiled down to he might have to lose her to free her from the curse.

  But he had her here now. Would it be the same to make love in the afternoon brightness as under the glow of the moon? His mouth felt as dry as the hillside beyond them, yet every cell in his body hummed with desire. He was so keyed up he had to remind himself to breathe.

  Brian enfolded her into his arms and pressed his lips to the strawberry sweetness of hers. It was so damn easy to melt into the soft moisture and delve into the hot silkiness of her mouth. Her scent was a combination of roses and wild boysenberries. The fragrance wafted around him, intoxicating him like Maggie’s homemade boysenberry wine. He swelled with anticipation as he drew Valerie tightly against the heat of his body. Her soft curves fit perfectly into his hardness.

  The afternoon sky was bright, but they were shaded by a wild oak with a twisted trunk. He removed his shirt and laid it on top of the dried summer grass and lowered her slowly while looking into her eyes. He loved her so damn much. How could he ever give her up?

  Wrapping his arms around her, he drew her close. “You’re trembling.”

  She nodded.

  He whispered into her ear. “Is it anticipation…fear?” Without giving her time to answer, he trailed warm kisses down her neck while he massaged her back, knowing this heat between them came from their humanness and not merely animal lust.

  She took a deep breath, then twisted out of his arms and looked up at him. “After the intimacies we shared while we were werewolves and while morphing, this may sound ridiculous. But so much has happened since that night and in the light of day, things are different. I’m sorry, Brian, but I can’t make love with you.”

  He sat perfectly still. Dear Lord in Heaven, give me the strength to calm my soaring urges. He ached to give them both pleasure and release. And to possess her as his own. “I’m not surprised,” he said past the constriction in his throat, “just disappointed. I’m sure you have a good reason and I won’t try to change your mind, but may I ask you why?”

  “There are at least half a dozen reasons, but the two biggies are I can’t allow myself to get pregnant and take the chance of passing on our curses to my children. And I just took on a big charity project to help my dad and I promised him I’d give it my all, which will take a tremendous amount of time and energy, so even if I had a normal child, I wouldn’t have time to care for it. And with my luck, I’d get pregnant.”

  “I’m sorry, Valerie. I guess due to my past living with horny wolves, I didn’t give any thought to the possibility of impregnating you, but I should have. I see that clearly now. Even if you’d been willing to chance getting together, I have an obligation not to inflict our curses on any possible off-spring. I desperately want children in the future, but it would be wrong to cause them to suffer through what we’ve had to endure at each full moon.”

  Brian blew out a gust of air. The pressure to volunteer to take the tests mounted. He was tempted but until he knew more, he had to hang on to his slipping detachment and his belief that emotions were dangerous.

  Chapter Nine

  The following Monday, Valerie set up the New Beginnings office in the newly constructed two-story building her dad owned only a block from the Foothill Homeless Shelter. She’d heard all of her life that location was everything. And this site was close to a shelter, a low income barrio, a bus line, and best of all the property and improvements were donated by her dad.

  Since Brian had to be there anyway to guard her body, she appointed him her executive assistant. To make the situation of working in close contact succeed, she insisted that he agree to no physical contact while on the foundation grounds. The only hint to his displeasure about the agreement was an amusing upper lip curl similar to the Elvis Presley lip-twitch.

  She knew every stitch of clothes Brian had was in his backpack and only included three pair of jeans, four shirts, two pair of running shoes and some socks. “We need to get you some outfits suitable for the office.”

  He la
ughed. “I wouldn’t know what to buy.”

  “I’ll go with you.” It turned out to be fun. His sense of humor kept her laughing. The challenge came when he modeled clothes for her. If she hadn’t realized it before, when he paraded out in suits and ties she became alarmingly aware that in the suits he was movie-star gorgeous. By dressing him up, she was making it a greater challenge to resist him. And for the foundation to run smoothly, she had to keep her wolf-man at a distance.

  They ended up buying three suits, some dress shirts, ties, socks, and assorted underwear. His eyes glinted. “Want me to model the skivvies.”

  She rolled her eyes heavenward. This man will be the undoing of me. “No, Brian, that isn’t necessary. The clients won’t be seeing your undies.”

  On their way back to the office, she stopped at a dealership and leased a nine-passenger Ford station wagon. Then, the next day, believing everyone at the foundation should have a license and be prepared to drive if necessary, she accompanied Brian to the motor vehicles office to secure a learner’s permit. Aware that teaching him to drive would require more close contact than she wanted to handle while setting up the foundation, she enrolled him in a driving class. He was a quick study and within a week he had his license. When he came back with his prize, she barely stopped herself from throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him. “We’ll celebrate over dinner tonight with the family. Right now I need your help to get these files in order.”

  His proud grin faded. “You’re a bloody slave driver.”

  She closed her eyes a moment, rubbed the bridge of her nose, and fought an on-coming headache. He was right. Tonight she’d relax and show her appreciation.

  ****

  On the way to the mansion, she ordered Brian to remain in the station wagon while she slipped into the jewelry store and bought him a surprise. She chose a Rolex that glowed in the dark like his intense brown lupine eyes. At her request, the jeweler put the elegant time piece in a brown velvet box and secured it with a glittery gold ribbon. While in the store, she called ahead and asked Kyle Cooper, their cook and jack of all chores, to prepare his special recipes for chateaubriand and chicken cordon bleu. Kyle always put his heart in his cooking, clearly revealing time and time again his firm belief that presentation was as important as the food. She had no doubt that the meal and table setting would be fabulous.

  When she arrived home, the air swirled with aromas of grilled steak, fresh bread, and mysterious herbs that always brought out the magic of the feast. She smiled at the low crystal centerpiece decorated with romping angels and filled with rose buds. It was perfect. Kyle had set the table with their best silverware and china—for six. Her neck prickled. Why six? Mom, Dad, Brian, Uncle Hugh and me only makes five.

  Kyle entered the room, moving, as usual, airy and ghost-like. His spiky, carrot-top hair had a glossy gleam under the chandelier lights.

  “Everything’s perfect,” she said. “But why six place-settings? Are you eating with us?”

  He laughed. “My, no, Miss Valerie. I’ll be serving. Where is Brian?”

  “He’s gone upstairs to get washed up. But he only makes five. Now what’s the mystery? Why the extra place-setting?”

  Kyle rolled his intelligent pale, water-blue eyes heavenward. “Mr. Rory Mansell brought your mother two dozen roses to apologize for his abrupt behavior the last time he dined with us. Then he mentioned how delicious everything smelled and how he hadn’t eaten all day. Apparently your Mom’s heart went out to his sad-eyed hopeful look. It looked phony to me. Later you mom apologized for adding a guest at the last minute, but she felt obligated to invite him to stay. She’s entertaining him in the parlor.”

  Oh, no. Not at Brian’s celebration. She forced a smile. “Well, this should be an interesting meal.” She wondered how Brian would take this particular party-crasher inviting himself to dinner. Although Brian never got emotional over it, it was clear they didn’t like one another.

  Valerie headed for the stairs to warn Brian about Rory, but before she could climb the first step, Mom and Rory spied her. “Oh, good you’re home,” she said. “Would you keep Rory company in the dining room while I round up everyone?”

  Valerie forced a smile. “It’ll be my pleasure.”

  She took Rory’s muscled arm and escorted him inside. He was drenched in cloying cologne. She pulled out a chair on the far side of the table, planning to seat him as far away from her as possible.

  Rory ignored her intended placement and rounded the table, held her usual chair, and waited for her to seat herself.

  “What brings you up the mountain?” she asked with all the hostess charm she could muster.

  “I owed you and your family an apology for my behavior the last time I was here. I wanted to make it up to all of you,” he said as he slid, like a slithering snake, into the chair next to her. She stiffened when he scooted a little closer and leaned in close enough to gag her with his cologne. He kept talking, but his nearness, her disgust, and her concern about Brian made it difficult to concentrate on anything he told her. Good grief. How would Brian take this particular surprise guest?

  She moved her chair slightly away, wishing it could be to the other side of the world. She longed to desert the ship, destined to sink. But leaving her family in the lurch wasn’t the Lamont way. Her mom had taught her to be hospitable even in the worst situations. And she didn’t really want to hurt Rory’s feelings—she just wished he’d go away and stay away. Victoria was well rid of him.

  The family filtered in, followed by Brian. He was wearing a pair of his new suit trousers. The soft gray ones and a crisp white shirt, open at the collar. Valerie’s face warmed, wondering if he was wearing his new underwear. He smiled widely as if he knew what she was thinking. His smile faded when he saw Rory sitting close beside her. Without comment he sat down on the other side of her and edged a little closer as well. He smelled shower-fresh with a hint of wild-and-wonderful pheromones.

  “May I say the blessing,” Brian asked in a low voice.

  Mom beamed. “Of course. That would be a treat.”

  Brian touched the gold filigree cross around his neck.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Valerie saw Rory loosen his collar like it was choking him. His folded hands trembled.

  How strange, she thought. She focused on Brian again, curious what kind of a prayer a man raised by wolves and an eccentric old woman would choose.

  He closed his eyes. “Psalm 137:4,” he said. “How shall we sing the Lord’s song in a strange land?” He paused. “Let us love our enemies and break bread with them in trust. And lastly, bless this meal and everyone at this table, and let us dine in harmony.”

  Mom blinked. “Interesting blessing, Brian. What strange land are you referring to?”

  He laughed. “Any place outside of Trona city limits.”

  Rory snickered. “I knew there was something different about you. You’re a desert rat.”

  Kyle entered the room and started serving. He winked at Valerie as though to give her support. She winked back.

  Brian took a deep breath and then said, in an even, gentle voice, “Some call me that. But not my friends.”

  Mom shifted in her chair. “What is your religious background, Brian?”

  “No particular church affiliation. But Momma Maggie said we’re all the children of God and insisted that we study the Bible nightly.”

  Rory snickered again. “That explains a lot.”

  Dad cleared his voice. “How are things going at the foundation, Valerie?” He passed her the platter of chicken cordon bleu.

  She smiled and scooped a serving onto her plate. “I’m optimistic that we can develop community confidence and engage the public in our efforts. If things go as I plan, donations will pour in to fund our program beyond our wildest ambitions. I didn’t realize how fulfilling being in on the inception of a foundation could be. It’s the work dreams are made of.”

  Mom laughed. “You sound more like your father every day.�
��

  Dad arched a brow. “Hopefully that’s not such a bad thing.”

  “Hardly, I’m proud of both of you.”

  Brian grinned. “But she’s a bloody slave-driver.”

  “Oh,” Rory said, his eyes narrowing. “You work there, too? What skills do you bring to the mix?”

  “I can do most anything,” he said, his voice steady and basically emotionless.

  Uncle Hugh leaned forward, looking like a judge about to give his ruling. “When a man has a pure heart there’s no limit to his abilities.”

  Rory glared at Uncle Hugh then cleared his voice. “I could use a part-time job. Do you have a position for me, Valerie?”

  Her mind screamed, No, never, and the only position I can think of right now is bent over and kicked out the door. But not wanting to hurt his feelings, she said, “You can fill out an application, if you like. But the hours are long, the pay low, and like Brian said, I’m a bloody slave-driver.”

  “I can handle anything the desert rat can handle.”

  She smiled. “Calling Brian a desert rat doesn’t really show the kind of compassion I’m looking for in my employees.”

  “Brian knows I’m teasing. Has becoming a big CEO killed your sense of humor, Valerie?”

  “I guess I don’t understand humor wrapped in cruelty.” Even as she thought it, she couldn’t ignore the air of foreboding that slid over her.

  “Whoa,” Dad said. “Let’s try to stay in line with Brian’s blessing and enjoy this sensational meal.”

  “You’re right, Sir,” Rory said. “As long as you acknowledge that Brian’s prayer anticipated a break in harmony. And since there are no other outsiders at the table, I got the distinct feeling that Brian was declaring me as his enemy.”

  Brian widened his eyes. “Wow, you read all that into a simple prayer?”

  “Don’t act like butter won’t melt in your mealy mouth.”

  Mom passed the steak to Rory. “What was that you said about wanting to apologize for your behavior the last time you dined with us?”