by Vivi Andrews
“I know,” he said. “You haven’t let me touch you since I told you I wanted more. My own fault. I should have known better than to come right out with it like that. For someone who is supposed to be diplomatic, I’ve sucked at persuading you to give me a chance.”
“I’ve had a lot on my plate lately,” she said irritably. “Forgive me if I don’t have the time or energy right now to play house with you.”
“You don’t have to carry the world on your shoulders. Relaxing a little with me wouldn’t kill you.”
“It’s my responsibility to make sure nothing else goes wrong before we can get the Archive back to Lone Pine.”
“Are you expecting an attack in the lobby of the Mountain View Inn?”
“No, but I’m not going to fail my pride by falling down on the job. And if you knew the first thing about me, you wouldn’t ask me to.”
“Maybe I don’t understand you,” Kelly admitted. “So explain it to me. Why do you need to do it all? Yes, I understand that we need to take down the Organization and uniting the shifters is a noble cause, but why does it always have to be you?”
“Because I’m the best for the job,” she snapped, irritated in part because though she believed those words to her core, they weren’t the whole story.
And Kelly’s glinting green eyes said he knew it. “I know you respect your fellow lieutenants and Roman. I know you trust them to do what needs to be done when you aren’t there. So what am I missing? What are you trying to prove?”
“Everything,” she snapped. She wanted something tangible to show to her parents as if to say See? I am doing the right thing with my life. She wanted to prove to Greg and Roman that they hadn’t made a mistake by picking a female lieutenant. “I am always proving myself, Kelly. I’m the first female lieutenant in any pride we’ve ever heard of. I have to always be willing to do the most and go the farthest.”
“Everyone knows you deserve it,” Kelly argued. “No one expects you to kill yourself to prove it.”
“I expect it of myself.”
She didn’t need to just be the best and the toughest. She needed to be irreplaceable.
But she couldn’t explain that to Kelly. He didn’t know her and she was beginning to suspect he never would. He was still trying to coax her into being something other than what she was. He wanted her to be the woman who came home for dinner every night and left her work at the office, but Grace didn’t know how to quit and she needed a man who saw that in her without having to be told.
She needed to find Dominec.
“I’m going to patrol,” she told Kelly, rising from the table.
Kelly rose as well, frowning. “We’re in the middle of nowhere Saskatchewan.”
“Then it will be a quiet patrol.”
“I’ll come with you.”
She glared at him. “At some point, Kelly, the persistence stops being charming and becomes an invitation to get punched in the face.”
Something sharp flashed in his green eyes. “Maybe I’m trying to listen and adapt, Grace. Did you think of maybe giving me the benefit of the doubt? This is important to you. So I want to help. Is that a crime?”
And now it would be petty to turn him away. Crap. “Fine. Just don’t distract me.”
So much for finding Dominec and a rooftop. Grace led the way outside to patrol, Kelly at her heels.
Dominec completed his patrol of the grounds, scouting all the best escape routes and sight lines, and returned to the lobby via the back door—just in time to see Grace slip out the front with Kelly at her side, his hand hovering over the small of her back, though he didn’t touch.
Jealousy rammed a spike into his corneas, but he bit down hard, fighting back the urge to shift and rip the fucker’s arms off at the sockets.
Progress. If he had a therapist he’d be getting a gold star today.
Too bad the gold star burned like a bitch.
So she was back with Kelly. No surprise. Grace had pushed him away when he tried to kiss her at Black Lake. No more than he deserved. He’d failed her. Failed to protect her. He was supposed to be another weapon in her arsenal, not a fatal point of vulnerability, getting them both tranqed and caged. After that display of weakness, what woman wouldn’t repudiate him?
It was better this way. He couldn’t allow himself to get tangled up in her.
But Kelly…
A growl rippled up his throat.
He didn’t deserve her either. He’d let her be taken as well. He was no stronger than Dominec—expect perhaps mentally. He hadn’t fallen apart and lost his human self when they were captured. He’d been everything smooth and fucking charming. Calm and concerned. Apparently Grace had liked that emotional support bullshit. That was the man she wanted touching her now.
Dominec took another moment to envision how the blood would spurt when he removed Kelly’s appendages with his bare hands.
A whisper of movement to his left caught his attention and he turned to see the Archive, Maeve, weaving through the tables toward him. The twins watched, but didn’t move to stop her—which said more than they probably suspected about who was really in charge in that trio. The twins might be making most of the demands, but the Archive was calling the shots.
She shuffled over to him and Dominec had the distinct impression she was exaggerating her senior citizen-ness for his benefit. She seemed kind of like Yoda—with whom he was entirely too familiar after another of Mateo’s binge-watching parties. Maeve may seem all vulnerable and small, but only until she went ninja on some poor dude’s ass.
She stopped in front of him, gazing up at him expectantly.
“Can I get you something?” he asked, most of his attention still focused beyond the front door where Grace had disappeared. This inn had interior hallways, so she couldn’t have been heading for her room. Had she forgotten something in the car? And if that was it, why the hell wasn’t she back already? Where did she need to go with just Kelly? And why the fuck did he care?
The Archive smiled up at him beatifically.
“You know, the mute thing gets old. How are you supposed to tell us all we need to know if you don’t talk?”
A mischievous sparkle entered Maeve’s eyes.
“If you’re jerking us around and you aren’t really an Archive, Lone Pine isn’t going to take it lightly. And trust me, you do not want us pissed at you.”
“Don’t threaten the Archive, jerkface,” River said without getting up from the table in the corner.
“She’ll talk when she has something to say,” Cadence added.
“So you do talk,” Dominec mused softly to the woman beaming up at him.
She took his hand, folding her rheumy fingers around his, and tugged gently, indicating he should come closer. He bent down until his face was on a level with hers. “I find it is often more fun to listen,” she said quietly. Her voice was musical and light, and sounded as if it had somehow aged less than the rest of her body—maybe because it was so rarely used.
“Me too.” Dominec didn’t immediately straighten, looking the tiny woman in the eye. Hers were a clear, sparkling blue that was almost aqua. There wasn’t a single shadow in them. How could that be, if she held the memory of ages inside her head? “How can you be so happy if you remember all the nightmares?” he asked her. “Don’t you ever want to forget?”
She placed one age-spotted hand flat over his heart. “We are more than our memories,” she murmured, giving his chest a single, gentle pat.
“Not all of us.”
He stepped back, straightening and she let her hand fall. Her eyes were still warm and clear, a small smile still curving her lips. Not knowing. Not cocky. Just peaceful and sweet. How could she look at him, seeing the tracks of his life gouged into his face, and still smile at him like that? What did she see?
He wasn’t brave enough to ask.
/> Chapter Thirty-Two
The scratch came at his door after midnight.
Dominec hadn’t been asleep. Lying on top of the hotel comforter, staring up at the ceiling and picturing Grace with Kelly didn’t count as sleep.
He rolled to his feet and stepped into the fatigues he’d tossed over the chair next to the bed. He buttoned them as he crossed to the door, not bothering with the top two buttons. They hung off his hips as he reached for the knob, but this was as civilized as he got at one in the morning. Or ever, really.
She should know that better than anyone.
He didn’t need to check the peephole to know who was on the other side of the door. The scent of her soothed the wildest parts of him even as it sent a sharp awareness into his blood.
Dangerous.
He had become the man he was because this was how he managed the jagged pieces of himself that were left. It was a delicate balance. He was an unstable chemical cocktail that could trip into explosion far too easily and she was upsetting the controls he’d put on himself.
It didn’t matter if it felt good. It was better if he was an island and she was with that fucking lion.
But he still opened the door.
Her hands were shoved into her back pockets, arching her back and thrusting her breasts forward. A woman as muscular as she was shouldn’t have curves like that, but Grace had never excelled at obeying shouldn’ts. She cocked her head to one side so the short sweep of her blonde hair fell against her chin. Her eyes were direct and unflinching, but that was Grace. She never flinched. Not even when she was chained to a chair.
He braced one hand on the doorjamb, blocking her entry. She didn’t speak or move to push past him, watching him with eyes that looked darker than they were. He hadn’t turned on the light in his room and he kept his face in the shadows, waiting for her to buckle at the awkwardness of the moment. But Grace didn’t buckle any more than she flinched.
He shoved the door open farther, releasing it. She turned her body sideways to slip past where he leaned against the doorjamb without brushing against him. The scent of her went straight to his head. Both of them.
She crossed to the far side of the hotel room and turned to face him as he let the door fall shut and leaned back against it. His night vision allowed him to make out the outline of her body in the darkness of the room, but her expression was a mystery as she propped her ass on the desk tucked under the window.
The width of the room separated them, but it could have been inches from the way her presence raised every hair on his body.
Dangerous.
Awareness of her blocked out the rest of the world and he couldn’t afford to lose his consciousness of his surroundings, that necessary vigilance.
“What?” he growled finally, needing to goad her to speech so he could get her out of here and take care of himself.
“We never talked about what happened.” Her voice came out of the darkness like smoke composed of sex. “Before. On the roof.”
And we aren’t going to. “Nothing to say.”
She flipped on the desk lamp beside her hip. A golden glow coated her and cast a pool of light on her side of the room. That was them. Her always in the light and him always shadow-bound. “It wasn’t nothing to me,” she said, eyes direct.
No. It wasn’t nothing. The memory of her arching beneath his hands, crying out in pleasure was seared indelibly into his brain. It was everything and that was why he needed this distance between them. Because just the memory of that one night when he hadn’t even fucking taken off his pants was enough to make him completely lose control when she’d been threatened the next day.
He shrugged. As if it wasn’t even worth the words to argue with her. Tipping his head to the side, he let the glow of the lamp play over his scars.
Grace arched a golden brow. “Seriously? You think I’m going to shy away from you if you flash your scars? At least come up with a better diversionary tactic.”
“How’s Kelly?” he snarled.
Her lips curled in a feline smile. She pushed off the desk and left her pool of light, joining him in the shadows. “You’re cute when you’re jealous. You know that?”
“I’m never cute.”
She reached him at the door and used her fingertips on his jaw to tip his face down so she could see his eyes. “You’re adorable,” she taunted.
He flashed his teeth, letting the points sharpen in a partial-shift.
“Your control is incredible,” she murmured, one finger delicately tracing a fang. The caress was surprisingly erotic and he jerked his face away from her touch.
“Not always.” The words were a dark threat.
“No,” she admitted. “But what fun would it be to grab a tame tiger by the tail?”
“You have a death wish?”
“Do you?” she countered without missing a beat.
He just flashed his fangs again. He didn’t like this. The rawness when she was inches away from him. The knowledge that she looked inside him when everyone else couldn’t even bear to see the surface. The fucking exposure sucked. And yet he wanted her closer. He wanted her pressed against every inch of him. The idea of pushing her away made his every muscle seize in protest.
“It killed me to see you in that cage,” she whispered.
No. He didn’t want to talk about that. He didn’t want to remember the feral anger that had been his only thought when he couldn’t get to her.
“It was my fault,” she went on. “They thought you were my mate and they wanted to push me. I’m so sorry they did that to you—”
“No.” He only realized he’d grabbed her upper arms when he felt the softness of her skin beneath his palms. “We aren’t talking about that.”
A little flicker of amusement flashed in the depths of her blue-on-blue gaze. “We aren’t?”
He set her away from him and began to prowl the room, trying to outpace the agitation twisting and tangling inside him. “I failed you. I allowed them to capture us—”
“Dominec, no. No one could have—”
“I should have been able to take them.”
“You aren’t Superman.” She stepped into his path, forcing him to stop or run into her—he chose to keep the distance. Mustn’t touch. A little smile quirked her lips. “Though the amount of sedative they had to use on you might refute that. But that isn’t why I’m here.”
He knew he shouldn’t ask, but he heard himself saying, “Then why?”
“I just needed—” She broke off, her brow furrowing with irritation as she grappled for words. “After everything with the wolves—” She shook her head, discarding another opening. Her eyes met his, blue-on-blue and as confused as he was. It could have been a comfort that they were both utterly lost together, but it only made him feel more off balance. If she didn’t have her center, what hope did he have?
Her eyes spoke volumes, their double blue depths filling up with all the words she couldn’t find. “It wasn’t nothing,” she said.
And then somehow she was in his arms and her lips were on his and it happened again. That thing that always happened when they kissed. A freight train of unstoppable lust slammed into him and he was simultaneously shattered into a thousand pieces and finally made whole, all in the same moment.
“Grace.” His hands were in her hair, angling her head for a more forceful claiming. And he would claim her. She was his. He would brand her with need until the idea of another man in her arms was as unthinkable to her as it was to him.
He didn’t know what the animal inside him would have done if she resisted, but resistance seemed to be the last thing on Grace’s mind.
The bed was close and she dragged him onto it, shoving him onto his back and climbing over him, never breaking the kiss as her hands visited every inch of bare skin on his chest. He released her lips only long enough to
yank her tank top over her head and flick open the fastening on her bra. He flung the hot-pink bra over her shoulder as she levered herself above him, straddling his waist, and his higher brain functions gave out.
She was exquisite. Muscle and sinew spoke of her leonine strength, but the luscious fullness of her curves complemented that power. He cupped her breasts, his hands dark against the pale golden tint of her skin. In unison his thumbs teased the lower edges of her nipples and they furled even tighter at his touch. She wet her lower lip, catching it with one sharp tooth, her eyes shifting golden as she watched him watching his hands on her body.
He teased her nipples only briefly before running his hands down over her ribs to the taut length of her waist and over the flare of her hips until they caught on her jeans. She reached for the button, popping it loose and lowering her zipper, her gaze never leaving his.
His hands tightened on her hips and there was a moment—just a moment—when he realized this was a bad idea. He could stop, if they stopped now. He could put her away from him, throw her tank top at her and shove her out into the hallway. He could do it. It would be the right thing to do. There was no way Grace would come out of an affair with him unscathed, so there could be no affair. He wasn’t a noble man, but in this he could be good. For once in his life.
Then she reached for him, both hands for his face, framing him as she bent to take his mouth, not shying away from his scarred half, and he was done.
Her tongue plundered and pillaged—for about one point two seconds before he flipped her and drove his tongue into her mouth, dominating the kiss. His chest pressed against hers, weighing her down into the mattress, and all that skin-on-skin contact burned away the last clinging strands of his control. He hooked one arm under her back, grasping her opposite shoulder to keep her locked tightly against him as his free hand flicked open the buttons on his fatigues and shoved them down. Her hands were there, helping him and then they were both kicking free of their pants. A hot pink thong still covered her, but he was bare—and he nearly came from the feel of her silky thigh alone.
