Taming The Shifter (Nocturne Wolf Romance)

by Lisa Childs

  Though she wished she could be outside strolling near the waves crashing up against the seawall, she finally ordered her own drink. The bartender brought it and three more. “From the gentlemen there, and there, and over there,” he said, rolling his eyes.

  “No, thanks,” she said again, pushing them away. The pounding beat of the music had begun to make her head ache. Once again, she surveyed the room, feeling out of place and unsettled. More and more she had come to realize that trying to meet someone in a scene like this didn’t work for her.

  This was the third time in as many weeks that she’d come to this place. Maybe she should give up and move on. Though she’d danced with many, there hadn’t been a single man who’d generated even the faintest flicker of interest, and she knew all too well the rules governing the task ahead of her.

  One last look around the bar, and she’d knock back her drink and go home. Failure, again. Though, as a consolation prize, she felt quite sure she could find something interesting to watch on television.

  And then, as her gaze swept through the packed room, she saw him. Everything else—the music, the noise, the crowd, faded away.

  Gorgeous, ruggedly handsome, devilishly sexy—a hundred superlatives couldn’t even begin to do him justice.

  Tall and athletic, with muscles rippling under his T-shirt, the sight of him quickened her pulse. He walked with a nonchalant kind of self-confidence that drew her like a magnet. She let her gaze roam hungrily over him. Hair so dark it almost seemed black. Shaggy, a bit longer than currently fashionable. His hawk-like features, for whatever reason, seemed vaguely familiar, though she knew she hadn’t met him. A man like him would not easily be forgotten.

  Just like in a romance novel or a sappy movie, their eyes met. Locked. And held. She sucked in her breath, her entire body tingling.

  Then she noticed the bevy of women hanging on to his side. And more, lined up three deep behind him.

  Popular, wasn’t he? She couldn’t say she blamed them.

  Lips curling, she glanced to her left and her right, and at the unwanted drinks the bartender kept depositing in front of her. If she were to drink them all she wouldn’t be able to walk.

  They were an equal match. Fate. It had to be fate. A shiver snaked up her spine. Finally. The one she’d been searching for had finally appeared.

  The mysterious stranger noted the drinks and her smile, and dipped his chin in agreement. Then he shook off his entourage and strode across the crowded room toward her.

  Heart pounding faster than the bass beat, she stood, cutting through the men who vied for a chance to talk to her or dance with her, and smiled her welcome at him as he approached.

  “Have we met?” he asked, the thick Texas drawl in his sexy voice curling her toes in her four-inch heels.

  “No.” Leaning away from him, she took a small sip of the drink she’d purchased. “I don’t think so.”

  One of the men who’d tried to corner her earlier sauntered up, brazenly attempting to push himself between her and her new friend.

  “She’s with me,” he growled, giving the newcomer a back-off glare. “Don’t interrupt us again.”

  Muttering a curse, the intruder went away.

  “Well done, sir,” she said. “Maria Miranda.”

  Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome smiled at her, sending a swirl of guppies swimming in her stomach. He held out his hand.

  She took it, noting the long, elegant fingers. Even the shape of his hand turned her on, though the noise made it difficult to hear.

  “I can’t believe it,” he murmured, leaning in close, his breath tickling her ear. “Until I saw you, I was bored. I’d just decided to leave when I took one last look around. Packed dance floor, check. Bodies gyrating to music played at a decibel rivaling that of a jet taking off, check. And then…you.”

  She laughed, a bit shaky, hoping he didn’t realize that even the husky timbre of his voice turned her on. She also noticed he hadn’t mentioned the bevy of beautiful women who even now intently watched his every move.

  A slow song began to play. At least, without the loud thumping of the bass, hearing became slightly easier.

  “This is my third time here,” she said, resisting the urge to lean even closer. “And I have to say, probably my last. This place is all too familiar and rapidly growing old.”

  He nodded. “I wasn’t exactly sure what drew me to this bar, especially since I could easily find a hundred just like it in any number of cities.” He shrugged. “In fact, I’m not clear how what had started as an evening stroll on the beach led to this.”

  His gaze slid over her, as intimate as a caress. “But I’m glad it did. You’re quite possibly the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. Tall and graceful, curved in all the right places, and enticingly spicy.”

  Though her mouth had gone dry, she managed to smile back at him. “You’re awfully good at flirting.”

  He laughed. “Only when I see something I want.” Every time his gaze met hers, her heart did a flip-flop. “And I want you.”

  Her entire body burned. If he kept looking at her like that, she’d go up in smoke. Hello, Destiny.

  “My head’s beginning to hurt,” she told him, lightly touching his arm. “Do you want to get out of here?”

  Another slow song came on. “Let’s dance instead,” he said, leading her out onto the dance floor. The instant he took her in his arms, she knew. This man. Him. Relief warred with arousal. Finally, after years of searching. She’d found him. Or he’d found her. Fate had finally tossed her a bone.

  Of course she said none of those things. Men, she’d learned, sometimes took longer to reach conclusions based on instinct or intuition. Right now, with her head spinning, relishing the way his muscular body fit against hers, she didn’t really care. Life had a way of sorting things out, and being held in his arms, her curves tucked up against his hard contours, her body melting against his, pushed everything else from her mind.

  He looked down at her and smiled once more. The intensity of his gaze and the beauty of his smile sent a shudder through her. Her knees went weak and she stumbled. Only his strong arms kept her on her feet. And then she felt the force of his arousal jutting against her belly as they swayed to the music. A hot ache grew inside her, nearly unbearable in its intensity.

  “We need to get out of here,” she managed, weak with need.

  To her relief, he jerked his head toward the door. “Sure. Lead the way.”

  The instant the cooler air hit her overheated body, she shivered. With anyone else, the scent of salt in the breeze would have brought her back to reality. Always, the sea grounded her.

  Yet with him, her body still throbbed. This was right. This was what had been foretold for her, meant to be.

  She nearly pinched herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming.

  “Are you all right?” He made no attempt to hide the fact that he wanted her. Desire echoed in his stance, the darkness of his eyes, in every shadow of his perfectly chiseled face.

  “Yes.”

  In unspoken accord, they crossed the parking lot, finding the stone steps down the seawall, to walk along the beach. The instant they reached the sand, Maria slipped off her high heels and carried them, so she could walk barefoot in the sand.

  “Are you sure that’s safe?” he asked.

  Tilting her head up at him, she smiled. “I love the way sand feels between my toes. You should try it.”

  To her amazement, he did exactly that, removing his boat shoes. “Nice.”

  When he took her hand, she couldn’t suppress a tiny cry at the contact. A hot ache grew in the back of her throat, making her realize what they’d all said would happen was true. Desire, want and need had the potential to morph into so much more.

  Away from the bar and the tourist areas, the beach was peaceful and quiet. Silver moonlight highlighted gentle waves, and even the ever-present screech of seagulls had disappeared for the night.

  “Maria?” He turned to her, and sw
ept her into his arms. She felt her body soften as her curves molded to his hard, muscular body. Her skin tingled from the touch of his hands, his long elegant fingers caressed her arms.

  And then he kissed her. His mouth covered hers with a hunger rivaling her own. Spirals of ecstasy made her quiver, even as his mouth left hers to kiss the pulsing hollow at the base of her throat.

  Again she prayed this wasn’t yet another dream, that she wouldn’t wake alone and unfulfilled in her empty bed. His lips recaptured hers, more demanding this time, and every cell of her being answered him, yes.

  If he laid her down in the sand right now, she would welcome him inside her.

  “Not here,” he told her, making her wonder if he’d read her mind. He grinned at her expression, planting a swift kiss on the tip of her nose. “You deserve better.”

  She let him lead her down the beach, away from the restaurants and bars, toward the residential area. When they reached the first group of beach houses sitting high up on their stilts, he grinned at her again. She marveled at the beauty of that smile, wishing for a swift instant that he, too, was Drakkor and could change and fly up into the sky with a sweep of powerful wings.

  Foolishness. She pushed the thought away as quickly as it had come. Another Drakkor would be of no use to her, and above all, she had her duty to her people to hold high.

  She wanted him. And tonight she was going to give herself over to passion and quit worrying about a future over which she had little control.

  “Here we are,” he said, pointing toward a yellow beach house with white trim. Like all the others, the house sat up on what she’d always called stilts. High enough off the ground to protect it from a water surge. After Hurricane Ike, most of these houses had been damaged or destroyed and rebuilt to more exacting standards. She ought to know. She’d spent many hours volunteering, assisting in the rebuilding efforts.

  This house appeared both well-built and huge.

  “Lovely,” she murmured. “I live on the other side of the island, closer to the ferry.”

  At the base of the steps, he turned to her and gave her a slow series of kisses. She shocked herself at her own eager response.

  “Come with me,” he said, and there was never a question. They hurried up the steps. He unlocked the door and they tumbled inside, laughing. Hands all over each other, they tore at each other’s clothes, until they stood naked in the silver moonlight pouring through the windows.

  She thought she’d never seen a more magnificent man.

  “Let me look at you,” he said, the reverence in his husky voice as sensual as any caress.

  So she stood, unashamed and unembarrassed by her nudity, her entire body tingling and ready. Though she didn’t even know his name, she didn’t want to destroy the magic of the moment. There’d be time enough for that later.

  He kissed her, pulling her even closer. There was nothing gentle about the way they came together. Like waves crashing upon the seawall in a storm, he possessed her and she felt herself drowning. They came together again and again, fierce and true and honest. She’d never known lovemaking could be like this, even as she shuddered, trying to hold back her second or third release and failing just as she had on all the others before.

  Her inner dragon echoed her cry. At the sound, she saw a wolf rise up, a strong, shadowy image superimposed over him as he flung back his head and gave himself over to his own release. So he was Pack then. She’d known he was some kind of Shifter from his aura.

  And then, and then, he pulled her close and held her, rocking her against him as if he found her infinitely precious.

  Satisfied, sated, her body nevertheless stirred at his display of tenderness.

  Lying there, knowing a satisfaction of a kind she’d never known, she finally slept.

  Bright sunlight streaming through the windows woke her. For a second, discomfited, she realized she was still in bed with him, the wonderful, mystery man whose name she didn’t even know.

  Slowly, she turned her head, to find him sound asleep next to her.

  Her heart felt full enough to burst. She’d never thought she could feel this way, despite being aware that she must, if she wanted to accomplish her life’s purpose.

  Determined to fulfill her destiny, she’d been actively searching for the right man for some time now. Until meeting this one, there hadn’t been any to whom she felt attracted. Not one single solitary one.

  She’d actually begun to wonder if she was too picky, if her proclivity to know what she wanted was hindering her achievement of the fate that had been thrust upon her. She couldn’t count how many times she’d wanted out, wanted a different life, a different future. But then, all along, she’d known she really didn’t have a choice.

  The choice had been made for her long before her own birth.

  Destiny. And fate.

  Yet such things were more difficult to find than they should have been.

  Earlier tonight, she’d been fed up and tired of searching, half convinced her apparently overly selective nature would ensure she’d die alone and childless, a disappointment to her father for bringing shame upon her people.

  And then this man had come along. Right now, lying so still in bed next to him, with every nerve ending in her body ablaze, she felt alive. More alive than she had in weeks, months. And hopeful, too. As if her destiny might not be unobtainable after all.

  As she studied him, he opened his eyes and looked at her, his bright blue gaze compelling and magnetic.

  “Mornin’ Maria,” he said, favoring her with that smile that made every nerve in her body thrum.

  Entranced, she smiled back. “Good morning yourself.”

  She thought about asking him if he wanted breakfast, but it was too soon to go all domestic. Her stomach growled in response to the thought, making his smile widen.

  “Come here,” he told her. “I want to make sure what we shared last night wasn’t a dream.”

  All thoughts of food were forgotten as she complied.

  Later, after they’d both showered and dressed—she in the same clothes she’d worn the night before—he took her hand and lightly kissed the back of it.

  Now, she thought, now would be the time to learn his name.

  “Let’s go to breakfast,” he said, holding out his hand. “There’s a great little café within walking distance.”

  She nodded, slipping her fingers into his. “What shall I call you?” she teased, since he hadn’t seemed inclined to give her his name.

  Surprise flickered across his handsome features. “Ryan,” he told her. “Of course. You can call me Ryan.”

  “Okay, Ryan.” She squeezed his hand. “Let’s go have breakfast.”

  He locked up as they stepped out onto the porch.

  When they reached the bottom of the stairs, a small crowd of people surrounded them. There were cameras and microphones, and despite Ryan’s attempts to shield her, bright lights were shone in her face, at her, blinding her as the people called out questions in rapid-fire sequence, each one trying to be heard over the other.

  Paparazzi? “What the…?” Maria whirled, holding back an instinctive snarl. Her dragon tried to surge to the front, to take over, but she’d spent her entire life training and knew how to hold back her inner beast.

  “Ryan?” She clutched his hand, hoping he’d have an explanation.

  “Who’s the new woman, Ryan?” One man shouted. “Can you give us a name?”

  New woman? Maria blinked.

  “TMZ here,” yelled another. “Care to make a statement or answer a couple of questions?”

  Ignoring them, Ryan shepherded her back up the stairs and into the house. Once inside, he methodically began closing all the blinds, one by one. He didn’t seem fazed or even bothered, almost as if he was used to this sort of thing.

  Maria, however, could barely catch her breath. She stood frozen, shocked and stunned, watching him.

  When he’d finally finished, he turned to face her. “I’m sorry abo
ut that,” he said, flashing that boyish grin. “I’d hoped that wouldn’t happen. Now that the paparazzi know where I’m staying, they’ll be staking out the place.”

  Pulse still pounding, she held her hand to her throat, trying her best to contain her agitation. “Paparazzi? Why on earth were they here? What did they want?” She inhaled deeply. “Or maybe the better question would be, who are you, really? If you have paparazzi, then you must be someone famous. What did I miss?”

  For the space of a heartbeat, he held her gaze. Once again she felt that tug of attraction. This time, she ignored it.

  Finally, he dropped his gaze and dragged his hand through his hair. “You really don’t know who I am, do you?”

  “No.” Wrapping her arms around herself, she tried not to despair. For once, just once, she wanted something to work out. “Who are you?” Hoping her expression didn’t reveal her nervousness, she waited for him to answer.

  Instead of immediately answering, he got up and went into the kitchen. “Would you like a water or a glass of orange juice? Sorry, I don’t have any coffee. I haven’t had time to stock the house.”

  “What I’d like,” she said, staying put between the couch and the door, wondering if the crowd of reporters still milled about outside, “is an explanation.”

  “Just a sec.” When he returned, he brought with him two bottles of water. “Here,” he handed one to her. Though the feeling of dread intensified with every second he delayed answering, she accepted and took a small sip.

  “Well?” she prompted. “I’m beginning to think I might have made a terrible mistake.”

  Beginning to think might have been an understatement. In fact, the longer she sat there, the more every instinct screamed at her to leave. As one of the last remaining female Drakkor, two things had been drilled into her since childhood. The first had been her destiny. The second had been the need for anonymity. Whoever he was, Ryan appeared to embody the opposite.

  “A mistake?” The small lines at the corners of his bright blue eyes crinkled when he smiled. Where before she’d found his assured self-confidence attractive, now it worried her.

  Every movement casual, he perched on the edge of the couch, looking even more handsome.