Moonlight Mist: A Limited Edition Collection of Fantasy & Paranormal)

by Nicole Morgan

  “Do you make promises lightly?”

  “No.” She dropped her eyes, refusing to stare into his too wise eyes.

  A finger nudged her chin up. “I will find your brother, Sally. Do not worry.”

  With that, he strode across the room and out the door that Tarek held open in anticipation of his alpha’s departure. Neither man looked back as they strode out into the swiftly darkening evening.

  Sally stood there, her arms wrapped around her middle trying to protect herself from the cold outside and the cold that had settled deep inside her soul at the thought of losing her brother.

  Bachar climbed into the passenger seat of the huge four wheel drive Tarek had prepared for their journey. A jacket, gun, and knife lay in the backseat. Bachar didn’t bother with the jacket, but took the gun and knife and strapped them to his body. Not that he anticipated needing them, if things started to go south, he would simply shift and make short work of his adversaries. Yes, some would call him egotistical and what had Sally called him? Conceited. Yes, he was more than conceited when it came to his ability to please the women he took to his bed.

  “I hope you know what you are doing.”

  “Aww, the voice of reason.” Bachar leaned back in his seat, trying to calm his lion. It was on edge. The animal sensed something was amiss on their land and also agitated by the lingering scent of their mate.

  “Someone needs to be. You’re giving off enough pheromones to attract have the female population in the region.”

  “And that would be a bad thing? At least then, you might find one willing to go to bed with your tight ass.”

  Tarek threw him a look that would have killed a lesser man on the spot. “I don’t need your help getting a woman to satisfy my needs.”

  “Good. Then you will refrain from touching Sally ever again.” Bachar allowed his voice to deepen, allowed his cat out to warn away the wolf.

  “You taking a mate would not be an ideal situation at this time, friend.”

  Bachar sighed. “Is it ever a good time to allow a willful woman to steal the heart from your chest?”

  His words were met with silence as he’d suspected they would be. Neither man had fared well when it came to women. “Now tell me what you have discovered.”

  “I have prepared your room for the night.”

  As Sally watched the taillights of Bachar’s vehicle disappear, Daniel appeared beside her, silent and still, her backpack dangling from his hand. At his words, Sally immediately started to shake her head. She couldn’t afford a room here, she was certain of it. Her only hope was that they allowed her to stay here in the lobby until Bachar’s return. “I don’t need a room, but thank you.”

  She reached out to take her bag from him, but he pulled it away. “The room has already been taken care of Miss Wilder. If you will follow me.” He turned and walked toward the shiny bank of elevators near the back of the room. Looking around at the other guests and staff members she realized she had very little choice in the matter. Unless she wanted to stay here and remain the focus of attention for the remainder of the night. She got in the elevator with the older shifter and decided to make the best of it. If she had to find a part-time job when this was all over to pay the bill, so be it. The most important thing was getting Nick home safe and sound.

  Daniel pressed a button on the panel that had no number beside it, and she frowned. Not one to let the grass grow under her feet, she asked. “Where are we going?”

  Daniel continued to stare straight in front of him. “To your room.”

  The elevator stopped and opened into what Sally immediately recognized as a private hallway. Only one door was present. A strange sense of excitement flooded through her. Daniel was taking her to where Bachar stayed. Not that she wanted to share the same quarters with the infuriating lion. Well, okay, maybe she did. Just a little. But, she also knew she would feel safe and protected with him close by. She’d had nightmares since her mother had died that she and her brother would be attacked by shifters, torn apart, limb from limb. Her, because she was not as a shifter, and Nick because he could not control his animal.

  Daniel pressed his thumb against a small black box and the doors opened to what she could only assume was Bachar’s suite. Her guess was confirmed when they walked inside. A glass wall made up the far side of the room and small floodlights placed strategically on the eves revealed the snowy wonderland outside. Small lights embedded in the hardwood floor near the entrance, guided them inside.

  It was above and beyond anything Sally had expected. To the left of the room was a kitchen she was sure most gourmet chefs would envy. Next to that was a large living space with huge chocolate colored leather sofas and matching chairs. Everything was scaled to fit the massive size of shifters. For the first time in her life, Sally actually felt small in comparison.

  To the right was a platform that contained a bedroom area bigger than some New York apartments. The bed was huge, sporting a massive post at each corner draped with flowy, rust-colored chiffon. It reminded her of a Sultan’s palace. She allowed a small smile to curve her lips. That was, no doubt, the look the lion shifter had been going for. He might protest his relation to the African lion, but he surely appreciated the decadence of their lifestyle. And his inbred arrogance could not be denied.

  She frowned when she realized the bedroom was surrounded by huge, glass walls and wondered how many times someone had inadvertently walked into them. She also wondered why they were there. They served no purpose as far as she could tell.

  “Allow me.” As if sensing her confusion, Daniel walked over to one and waved his hand across the glass, immediately, the glass changed, going from translucent to frosted in a matter of seconds. Daniel turned back to her with a knowing smile. “The Alpha likes his privacy.”

  She felt a blush steal across her cheeks. No doubt the whole suite was sound proof as well, she thought, a surge of what felt like jealousy rushing through her at the thought of Bachar on the bed with other females.

  Daniel walked across the room and picked up a remote on the huge coffee table and clicked a button. Immediately, a fire sprung up in the river rock fireplace that dominated the back wall. It had been built to the side as to not interfere with the view. He then strode back to where she stood in the doorway and laid her bag on a dark wooden table near the entry. “If the Alpha has not returned by dinner time, he has requested that you take your meal in your room.”

  “Of course he has.”

  Daniel’s voice and the conveyed message snapped Sally out of the stupor she’d seemed to have fallen into. How could she have expected less from such an arrogant man? She had to remind herself yet again that she needed that man and his arrogance to find her brother.

  “Do you require anything else at this time?” Daniel stood patiently at the door waiting for her response.

  Sally gave him her best smile, even if it was a tired one. “No. You have been more than helpful. But, if it’s not too much to ask, could you please tell me if you get any news of my brother before the Alpha returns?”

  Daniel bowed slightly. “Of course, dear. We are all praying for his safe return.”

  Sally pondered that as she closed and locked the door behind him. While she might be in a hotel full of shifters—she was after all, in a hotel full of shifters and sometimes one couldn’t be overly cautious.

  Chapter Four

  Sally realized that she could quickly get used to the decadence of having everything at one’s deposal. After Daniel left, she allowed herself to explore her opulent surroundings, knowing she would never be in such a place ever again. She stood for several long moments in the front of the glass, amazed that it was not very cold to her touch despite the snow storm blowing outside. Next, she went into the kitchen, trailing her hand along the dark granite countertop, thinking this kitchen—in a hotel room of all places—could easily pass for her dream kitchen.

  Oh, what it must be like to be rich, she thought. Or, just able to pay your bills on t
ime and still have some money left over at the end of the mouth.

  Deciding there was no way in hell she would ever be able to repay Bachar what this room cost, she decided to take advance of his generosity and opened the refrigerator, in need of something to drink. She was not disappointed. The inside of the stainless steel appliance was stocked with every imaginable beverage known to man, plus a large selection of wines that would put a five-star restaurant to shame.

  Knowing it would not be in her best interest to drink any alcohol, she took out a bottle of orange juice, ignoring the rumblings of her stomach and the array of cheeses and fruits inside. If Bachar did not return for dinner, she promised herself she’d have that for her meal. The excitement of being in such surroundings faded when she thought of Bachar and Tarek driving in such weather to find her brother.

  A brother who had brought this on himself. But, that couldn’t stop her from thinking of the harsh conditions he might very well find himself in on such a night. Her brother really was a good person, despite the worry and trauma he’d put her through by running away. It wasn’t his fault he’d suddenly found himself helpless against a heritage that he’d known nothing about. She still cringed when she remembered the first time he’d changed. It had been horrific for her to watch and she could only imagine the pain he had suffered.

  Finishing her drink, she realized she needed to go to the bathroom. Finding the door down the hall from the bedroom, she was glad to see that its walls were solid and not made of glass. It didn’t take her long to do what needed to be done, and she stood before the vanity with a large earthen bowl serving as the sink and a waterfall faucet. The entire room was filled with green plants and it felt as if she’d stepped into a jungle.

  She bit her lip, wondering if she dared to take advantage of the accommodations. She felt dusty and drab from her long hours of travel. Seeing the enormous bathtub, she decided to go for it. Humming, she bent over and turned on the water. There was no need to stand there and adjust the hot and cold. Instead, she set a digital control. As the tub filled, she went back into the living space and grabbed her bag. She hadn’t packed much, but she did have a clean change of clothing—and underwear, thank the heavens above. She’d take a bath, then lay down on one of the oversized couches and wait for Bachar.

  This way, she convinced herself, she’d be ready to take on whatever needed to be done once he returned. Using one of the numerous elastic bands she kept in the pocket of her jeans, she bunched her hair on top of her hair in a loose bun. Next, she took out the one clean shirt and pair of panties she’d brought with her, laying them on the bench next to the tub. After she’d stripped, she did the same with her dirty clothes before slipping beneath the warm, soothing water. It was heated to the perfect temperature, and it felt as though something had mixed with the water as it had filled the tub. The water slid silky smooth against her body, touching her like a lover’s hand. Not that she’d had many lovers. She’d been responsible for her brother for such a long time. She was soon leaning back and simply being, feeling the weight of her responsibilities slip from her shoulders. She didn’t know how long she lay there, the tub automatically filling with more hot water as it cooled.

  “I have never seen a more beautiful sight.” Sally let out a slight scream at the deep masculine voice sounded beside her. She’d been so lost in the sensation of being pampered that she hadn’t heard anyone approach. Hadn’t heard him approach.

  At six foot four, Bachar seemed to fill the entire space of the bathroom. For a moment she forgot everything. Her life in Maine, her missing brother. She forgot everything but the lust flaring to life in the depths of his eyes. Then, she remembered she was in a tub full of crystal clear water with nothing between her curvy body and his intense gaze. He stood there motionless for a moment before taking another step forward. She hurriedly looked for something to cover herself. The bath sheet was out of reach, and the soft sponge on the ledge of the tub was hardly adequate. With no other option open to her, Sally wrapped her arms around her breasts and curled her knees up, hiding her nudity as best she could behind her folded legs and arms. There was no way to hide the valleys and curves of the rest of her body, though. She felt herself flush with embarrassment.

  “Please leave,” she asked, her voice cracking.

  He smiled at her, and suddenly she was reminded sharply of the expression of the cat who got the cream. “Do you not wish to know what I learned tonight about your brother?”

  Sally barely managed to resist the instinctive move to rise in the water and go towards him, the masculine pull was so great. “Of course, I do.”

  “Good, then I will tell you.” Instead of telling her and leaving, or simply leaving and waiting until she was through with her bath, he stepped closer. Clearly, he was so unfazed by her nudity that having a conversation with her in a tub would not be an issue.

  But, her imagination told, his eyes were devouring her, raking over her curves like a hungry man. Or cat. He wasn’t really doing it…not to her. She wasn’t his type. Not drop-dead gorgeous and Barbie doll thin. And certainly not the sexual sophisticate that he no doubt took to his bed every night. What would someone of his sexual appetite want with a plain little nobody who knew next to nothing about sex?

  Except, of course, what her fertile imagination conjured up.

  He took another step forward and reached behind his neck and grabbed his shirt, pulling it over his head. It was one of the sexiest moves she’d ever seen a man make, freezing her in place. When his hands reached for the button of his jeans, she shook herself out of her stupor and realized he was stripping. “Wait! What are you doing?”

  Bachar gave her another killer smile and lowered the zipper of his jeans. “I am cold from the long, grueling search for your brother. I thought to warm myself.” On any other man, his humble, innocent look and words would have been believable. But not on Bachar. He was too cunning, too much the wild and dangerous animal.

  “Not here, you’re not.” Sally was relieved to hear her voice had returned to the stern tone she used on her students.

  “But this is my bath.” He cocked his head to the side, a curious—and still innocent—look on his handsome features.

  “That I’m using.”

  “I do not mind sharing.” His lips curved into a sexy grin and his hands pushed the top of his jeans down revealing a patch of curly, dark hair. For a distracted moment, she wondered why he didn’t shave. She’d heard that most modern men manscaped. Maybe it was a shifter thing. She didn’t shave—well not completely. And not that she had much need to. It had been quite some time since a man had been in her bed.

  As her mind wandered, his jeans fell lower, exposing the ridge of muscle on both sides of his body that made a mouthwatering arrow formation in the center of his body. “No, no, stop that,” she protested hurriedly, trying to rise in the water while keeping her body covered.

  He stopped undressing, and she let out a sigh of relief. Until one dark brow rose and he spoke. “Need I remind you this is my room, Miss Wilder? My room, my hotel, my territory. You are a guest.”

  “I need no reminding, but, I will be treated with respect.”

  Bachar had to work at hiding the grin that her indignation caused. She was…perfect. A wild, fiery mass of passion and beauty that would keep his lion satisfied for days.

  He shook his head. If only it could be. But he had too many responsibilities, too many enemies to even consider taking this woman as a mate.

  Now to his bed was another matter. He turned and started walking away. “Very well, I will wait until you are through with your bath before telling you what I discovered tonight.”

  For a moment Sally wanted to call him back, eager to hear news about her brother—and disappointed that he would not be joining her for a bath. But she couldn’t tell him that.

  “Thank you. I appreciate your kindness.” She still tried to hide herself from his view, her hands clasped around her naked body, acting like a virgin nun.

>   “You would appreciate my lust more,” he replied as he walked from the room without a backward glance.

  Sally’s breath left her in a rush as she watched Bachar walk out the door. What had just happened? Had he really found her desirable? Sally stood there shaking, not knowing what to do once he left. Her insides felt as if they had been set on fire, her attraction to the man was so great. She bit her lip, wondering if she had just passed up the greatest opportunity in her life. How many times did a woman like her get to see a lion shifter in all his glory?

  She sank back down in the still hot water and reached for the sponge on the side. Her mind still in a whirl, she chose one of the many scented soaps sitting on the edge of the tub, smiling at the luxurious glide of the expensive liquid on her skin. Rinsing off quickly, she stood, grabbing the bath sheet from the rack near the tub. She groaned when she realized they were heated. Sorry that she had to hurry, she dried off and reached for her clothing.

  Clothing that had gotten very wet.

  “Well, damn,” she muttered, realizing it must have happened when she’d dove under the water trying to hide herself from Bachar’s prying eyes. She wrapped the towel around her body and stepped out of the tub, hoping she’d packed more clothing than she remembered.

  She hadn’t. She was now faced with the choice of wearing dirty underwear or wet underwear. She also discovered that not only was her clean shirt wet, the one she’d just taken off had also gotten splashed. Now, what the heck was she supposed to do? Go parading around in front of him like a wet t-shirt contestant. Or…spotting Bachar’s discarded shirt she picked it up and was immediately overwhelmed by his scent. She pressed it against her nose, inhaling deeply. Damn, but the man’s shirt even smelled like sex.

  Knowing there was nothing else she could do, she put on the pair of jeans she’d just taken off—going command—before pulling his shirt over her head. Immediately, she felt a sense of completeness wash over her.