Beast Denied

by Faye Avalon

  From nowhere came the image of biting her, marking her. Making her his own.

  It wasn’t the first time he’d had those thoughts. Once, ten years ago, when he’d gotten it so wrong and pounded into her virgin flesh like the fucking devil himself, he’d imagined making her his. Marking her so that no other man would ever touch her.

  The erotic image was brutally replaced by one of Nathan doing what Tynan imagined.

  Anger was like a whiplash through his body, tightening his muscles and locking his breath. He found it almost impossible to tolerate the thought of Nathan’s hands all over her. Last night, it was all he could do not to storm into Nathan’s place and yank Naomi away. He’d wanted to throw her over his shoulder, take her to his own bed, and make her forget every other man who’d ever touched her.

  Make her forget the first time he’d touched her.

  This time, he would take it slow. Treat her the way she deserved to be treated.

  What she didn’t deserve was a relationship that promised nothing but a quick screw whenever the moment called for it. Had their past, that night, done this to her? Making her first time so bad that she couldn’t relate sex to anything but a mechanical easing of her erotic urges?

  Before he could get maudlin, he opened the door. Her face was flushed prettily from the cold evening air, her breathing elevated as if she’d been hurrying.

  She clutched her bag to her body like a shield, in the same manner she’d done with the files this morning at the hospital. Maybe she wanted a safe barrier behind which she could protect herself from him. He bit back the bile that rose in his throat. No way was he letting her get away with that.

  He envisioned her regularly stripping naked for Nathan and doing God knew what with him. Well, he’d had enough of her knocking him back, pushing him away, putting up a fucking barrier whenever he came within spitting distance. She’d damn well put down her bag and take off her coat, even if he had to force her to do it.

  Since bullying tactics wouldn’t exactly help his cause, he made a Herculean effort to calm his growing frustration with the situation and kept his tone even. “Let me take your coat.”

  “I can’t stay long.”

  For a moment, he thought she’d keep that bloody bag pressed to her chest, but she reluctantly put it down and shrugged out of her coat before he could step across to help her.

  Okay, baby steps. He could do baby steps. For now. “How was Mr. Lox?”

  Naomi walked to the lone leather chair beside the double sofas that faced each other in the middle of his living area. He recognized her attempt to put distance between them, but it didn’t mean he had to accept it. After hanging her coat, he positioned himself at the end of one of the sofas, as near to her as he could get.

  Naomi glanced at the knee he bumped against hers, then quickly looked away. “He’s okay. The fall shook him up, but thankfully he hasn’t broken anything. Finally got him to agree to stay in hospital for more X-rays and blood tests.”

  “That’s good.” He didn’t know the old man that well, but he seemed a decent enough sort. For a human.

  “So what did you want to talk about?”

  “Why don’t I get you a drink first?”

  “I’m on call,” she reminded him.

  “Coffee, then. To keep you awake for the long night to come.”

  He forced a smile, wishing to heaven the long night to come would end with her in his bed, but one look at her icy glare told him he might as easily wish for the fucking moon.

  “Okay.” She sat back and smoothed her hands down her skirt-clad thighs. Before he could start imagining pushing the fabric up her legs, his hands sliding over those black stockings—were they stockings?— he stood and went to play host.

  He had pasta cooking in the oven but knew bloody well he’d be eating it alone. Another hope he’d harbored had been that her phone would remain silent, that she’d stay the evening and enjoy supper with him. But the way she checked her phone, then placed it on the coffee table in front of her, put paid to that wish too.

  He returned with two mugs and set them down. He’d get straight to business, seeing she sat there all prim and professional, like she was there for a business meeting. Which he supposed was how she viewed it.

  “Those two men at Seth’s hotel. Seems they’ve been trying to find out who you are.”

  Her eyes went wide, and for a moment, he wished he hadn’t told her.

  “How do you know that?”

  He kept his eyes on hers to gauge her reaction. The last thing he wanted was to spook her, but she needed to know so she could remain vigilant. “The desk clerk told us when we asked about them. He called me late last night, told me he’d found out some of the bar staff had been questioned by them too.”

  He’d been spooked after the phone call and had driven over to her apartment just to check on her. Finding her car gone, he’d called Nathan. When the phone went to voice mail, he’d known Nathan was with a woman. With Naomi. He’d tried to console himself with the realization that at least if she was with Nathan, she was safe. But it hadn’t stopped the fury that speared through him when he’d seen her car in Nathan’s driveway.

  Naomi clasped her fingers together in her lap. “Why do you think they want to know who I am?”

  “Maybe they didn’t like the way you left things.” He leaned forward, trying hard not to take her hand when she paled a little. “I want you to be careful for the next few days, okay? Anything out of the ordinary, anything spooks you, you call me.”

  Call me. Not fucking Nathan.

  Frowning, she shook her head. “They seemed like regular men. I can’t—”

  “Sometimes even regular men can’t take no for an answer. Look, I’m not saying this to worry you, but I just want you to be aware while I check them out.”

  Her hand moved to her throat. “You’re checking them out? How?”

  “I’ve got my ways. All that MI5 shit, remember?”

  “Was it because I shoved him? Derek? Do you think he’s planning on pressing charges?”

  “Could be.” He didn’t believe that for a moment, but it wouldn’t hurt to let her think it. “If you see him, hear from him—from either of them—you call me straight away. Got it?”

  Thoughtful, she nodded. “Nothing like this has ever happened to me before. I’m not sure what to do.”

  “You don’t need to do anything. Leave that to me.”

  She took a swig of coffee, fingers clasped tight around the mug. He knew that relinquishing control of the situation was hard for her, and he readied himself to press the point.

  “I suppose I don’t have much choice, do I?” she said, surprising him. “This sort of thing is second nature to you. Checking on people, finding out about them. Is that what you do for the government?”

  “Kind of.”

  Her smile was full of nerves. “And you can’t tell me, or you’ll have to kill me?”

  He shrugged, buying himself some time. He didn’t exactly want to spend this time with Naomi discussing the covert part of his life. He wanted something far more personal and up close. But maybe it was a way in, and the small crack he’d glimpsed in her defenses as she’d asked him a question about his life was manna from heaven in an off-center kind of way. He’d be a fool not to take any opportunity that presented itself. Besides, the more he opened up to her, the more she would let down those defenses around him. At least, that was the plan.

  “How did you get into it?” Naomi asked. “I can’t imagine you just filled out an application form.”

  He wished to hell she’d relax a tad, but she sat on the edge of the seat, clasping the mug. “I was approached during my final year at Oxford. Didn’t want it at first. Didn’t think it was for me.”

  “You wanted to join the armed forces, like Caleb and Nathan?”

  That bit, harder than it
should. Piercing at the very heart of his vulnerability. But she was only stating the truth of it. She didn’t know that he’d spent most of his adult life trying to demonstrate that his physical limitations didn’t define him. That he was the same as any other man, as any other shifter male.

  While he didn’t want to draw her attention to his physical shortcomings, there was no point trying to gloss over them. She was a doctor, for God’s sake. Probably had access to his medical records. He had no option but to tell it like it was.

  “That’s what I wanted, but my injury ruled it out. I realized that the offer I received was a way in. A chance to serve my country. It worked out. At least, I can’t complain.”

  Not that he hadn’t done his share of bitching over the years, at least mentally. His friends had been in the thick of the action too many times, had put their lives on the line on a daily basis. He had mostly been behind enemy lines, working intel and security, but it hadn’t stopped him having a close shave or two.

  Largely, he’d made his peace with not entering the military, but he was still working on not being able to serve his pack the way his warrior destiny demanded. Instead, he’d been relegated to serving them from behind a desk, largely by technological means. He performed security evaluations, undertook ethical hacking, developed and updated computer networks to prevent or detect potential threats to the companies owned by fellow shifters. He took any breach to the security he’d set up as a personal insult, which went to the heart of his usefulness to the pack.

  “I noticed you were limping a little last night.” Naomi’s eyes were soft and for once she wasn’t glaring at him. Progress of sorts. “Do you make sure you get enough physical exercise? Desk work can do crazy things to your body.”

  Tell me about it. “I shift most nights. Run for a couple of hours.”

  She glanced away, not meeting his eyes. “That’s good. You should make sure to keep the muscles moving.” After a long silence, she brought her gaze, full of circumspection, back to his. “What actually happened that night? The night you were injured?”

  He thought it was common knowledge among the pack, but then, when it happened, she had been living in London with her aunt.

  Initially, he thought about brushing her enquiry aside, making it no big deal. Water under the bridge. But seeing this was the first real conversation he’d had with her for over a decade that actually bordered on civil, he wasn’t about to cock it up by playing dumb.

  Problem was, he didn’t want her sympathy, and already there was that softness in her eyes that signaled compassion. He didn’t want that either. What he wanted was to meet her on equal terms. For her to see him as a fully functioning male. For sure, he was fully functioning in the ways it mattered most to a woman, but he imagined his sexual competence wasn’t exactly top of her list of must-knows right then.

  After that first time, she likely still had him down as a brash, gung-ho type who took care of his own needs before those of his female. He planned on working toward the day he’d get the chance to prove her wrong. And the first step in that process might well be this whole caring/sharing deal.

  He drew in a fortifying breath. “There’d been a big cat sighting on the moor, and the publicity brought in hordes of sightseers. Along with it came the usual rumor and scare-mongering.”

  Panthers roaming the moor had been a legend in the area for as long as Tynan could remember. Humans were fascinated whenever a rumored sighting occurred, and the pack had to shore up and lay low until the current threat passed. At those times, the Council of Principals strongly forbade members of the pack to shift out on the moor, especially the younger members. It was the young panthers and their inexperience that usually brought about the problem.

  “When the publicity machine whipped it up and it started to affect tourism, the human powers-that-be decided they had to do something. They set traps over on the northwest side of the moor, in the hope it would appease the general public and start bringing in the tourists again. They tried to gloss over the more graphic rumors, such as livestock being savaged by what could only be a wild beast, but the animal rights activists got involved because of the traps, and before we knew it, the whole thing escalated on a national scale.”

  Naomi nodded. “I read about that.”

  “Members of the pack who lived on the north side got antsy when their dogs and sheep were mutilated by some of the traps. One of them, Bob Tucker, paid me, Caleb and Nathan good money to clear out the contraptions.”

  He took another breath, the nerves in his leg twitching while he relived the experience. “One of them found me first.”

  Her face went tight, her eyes hard and fierce now. “How did you know where to clear?”

  He shrugged, a little surprised at her question. “Bob Tucker had it worked out based on the animals maimed. He gave us each an area to cover.”

  “Where was yours?”

  Fuck. She was being thorough. “Had to follow the route along the edge of the clay pit. Bastard got me as I was crossing the old copper mine. What the hell they’d planted them along there for is anyone’s guess.”

  She gazed down, her fingers tightening around her cup. “It must have been agonizing, getting trapped like that.”

  Shit. He didn’t want her feeling sorry for him. He planned on getting her into bed, and the last thing he needed was a pity fuck. “It was an accident a long time ago. Memories fade.”

  When she looked up, her eyes boring into his, he wondered if she was thinking along the same lines as he was: to let the damn memories of that night they’d shared fade into the past, and get busy building new ones.

  “But you’ve got to live with the consequences.” Fire burned in her eyes, fierce and furious. “Aren’t you still mad it happened?”

  “No point. One of those freak accidents nobody can predict. No use railing at the world because of it.”

  She shook her head, placing her cup on the table. “I don’t know how you can be so reasonable about it.”

  Right then, she looked ready to do battle on his behalf. The idea pleased him, made his insides—and other parts—heat up. Nothing sexier than a woman in full-out fury mode, especially when that ferocity was aimed to work in his defense.

  He had to milk it for all it was worth, not that he intended traveling further down the pity-party route.

  “I’m good,” he assured her. “Got all my essential parts in working order. Luckily, the world won’t be denied a horde of future little Galloways pounding across the moor.”

  When her shoulders went back and she swallowed, he gave himself a mental slap for making light of her concerns. “Anyway, now I’ve told you my darkest secrets, how about telling me what made you move to London? I thought you had your mind set on going to university in Plymouth.”

  To keep the question, and mood, easy and relaxed and not have her clam right up on him, which she looked set to do, he picked up their cups and walked toward the kitchen for refills.

  Glancing back, he saw her gaze drop down again, her fingers clasped in her lap. For a moment, he thought he’d have to repeat himself, but she drew in a breath and straightened up. “My aunt offered me the chance to live with her. Moving to London was too exciting to decline. I thought it would be good to defer my studies for a while to take that opportunity.”

  Pouring coffee, he kept his tone light. “And you decided to stay?”

  “By then, I’d made friends and decided to pursue a full-out medical career instead of pharmacology. It made sense to stay put. I always planned on coming home,” she said absently, smiling when he placed the cup on the table in front of her. “I wanted to serve the pack and be of use to the community in general. After my mum died, then Gran, I didn’t want to leave my grandfather on his own.”

  He’d thought she might come home to stay when her father passed away three years back. But apart from a flying visit to attend the funera
l, she’d stayed away from the moor.

  He took his seat again. “You miss London?”

  She thought for a moment, considering. “Sometimes. I miss the anonymity of it. Here, everyone knows your business. In London, nobody really cared.”

  “Some people would find that lonely.”

  She almost smiled at him. “Some people, meaning you?”

  “I like solitude on occasions like the next man, but there’s a limit.”

  “You always were a people person.” Now she did smile, her eyes gleaming in the soft lighting. His pulse sped up, his cock hardening so that he wanted to move, to ease the pressure. But he wasn’t about to break the moment.

  They stared at each other for long seconds, during which he fought to stop from grabbing her and wrestling her down onto the sofa.

  When her phone beeped, he had to bite his tongue to stop from cursing out loud.

  She checked and started to get to her feet. “Duty calls.”

  “Why don’t you come back when you’re finished? Let me feed you.”

  “Thanks, but—”

  “You’re a practical woman,” he reasoned. “I’ll bet you just hate food going to waste.”

  “I do. But I can’t come back. There’s no telling how long I’ll be, and things usually pick up as the night draws on.”

  Part of him wanted to press, but he wasn’t about to push this truce they’d been building back even a few steps. So he held her coat, unable to resist leaning forward to sniff her hair and the delicate skin of her neck. Floral and citrus and something uniquely her.

  Draping the scarf around her neck, she turned back to him. “You’ll let me know if you find out anything more?”

  To stop himself touching her, he pushed his fisted hands into his trouser pockets. “Yeah. I’ll let you know.”

  He walked her out, held her car door open. “Stay warm. And remember what I said. Anything out of the ordinary, you give me a call.”