A Werewolf to Call Her Own ( Mystic Isle#2)

by Selena Blake

  The beautiful woman at Maxim’s side shifted her attention, her features coming to life. “Oh, how delightful.” She sounded genuinely interested and he knew he shouldn’t be surprised. The latte-skinned vamp was as unique as she was innocent, and the combination was driving him mad.

  “Why don’t we go see if we can spot them…” he suggested, not wanting his time with her to end.

  “Okay.” She nodded, a wave of dark hair slipping forward.

  “Have a good evening,” Latham said formally.

  Maxim loved the way her body moved beneath his hand as he ushered her across the bar and down the wide hallway. She was the only vamp he’d ever met who wasn’t completely comfortable in her own skin. He got the feeling the skimpy gym shorts didn’t belong to her.

  He’d counted the number of times she’d tucked her hair behind her ears while she and her girlfriends had waited for drinks. Four. And the number of times she’d shifted from one foot to another. Seven. Also, the number of times she’d licked her lips. Two.

  Every time that pink tongue had emerged, his gut had tightened and he’d been unable to tear his gaze away.

  And the moment his keen ears had detected the acceleration of her heart and he’d seen that big bruiser of a demon lock his sights on her, Maxim had vaulted from his chair in the corner, beer forgotten.

  Truth be told, he’d willed her into his arms.

  She was silent as they stepped onto the elevator, but she didn’t move away from him. Thankfully, she’d stopped trembling. A woman, as far as he was concerned, should never have cause to tremble with fear. Only with desire.

  He pushed the button for the top floor and glanced up at the glowing red numbers. The boxy car soared skyward and he spread his legs to steady himself. Her heady scent spiraled around him, filling the small space, driving him crazy with desire. How was he going to control himself? There was no way he’d ever force himself on a woman, but good God, she was so lovely, achingly beautiful, with innocent violet eyes that stared up at him like he’d just handed her the moon.

  If he could, he would.

  And it was that sort of crazy thinking that would get his ass into major trouble. He was the beta of his pack and his Alpha, Danya, counted on him to keep his head in the game and out of his slacks. He was only here for the long weekend to burn off a little steam, get in some waves, before heading back to pack business.

  “I know it’s irrational,” she murmured, “being afraid of demons.”

  He glanced down to find her staring straight ahead, looking at herself in the mirror-like doors, almost as if she was giving herself a talking to.

  “Demons are not all bad,” he replied carefully.

  “I know that,” she said sharply. But then her mouth softened. “I do. It’s just a reflex, I guess.”

  Her fangs peeked over her bottom lip, bright white in contrast with the rosy lip-gloss. He’d never been so turned on by vamps before, so what was it about this one? The way her heartbeat quickened whenever he touched her? Or the way her eyes had gone impossibly wide when he’d licked her fingers? Perhaps it was the way she’d played along with his charade, her breath catching like they were long-time lovers. She had no problem following his lead.

  Despite his position as beta of the pack, werewolves were known for their stubbornness and having a mind of their own. His people were tough, forged from long hard winters. The Shewolves, more often than not, were outspoken, some would even say brash. Confident to the core. They did not need a man and they made sure all the males of the pack knew it.

  Having someone who let him lead was refreshing. It was nice to be needed.

  The elevator slowed to a stop. Such a marvelous invention, he still wasn’t used to them. Then the doors opened to reveal a glass wall that offered an amazing view of the ocean.

  “Wow.” Her voice was quiet, but full of awe. She stepped off the elevator, the rubber soles of her hot pink thongs flopping against the tile floor.

  He pushed open one of the tall glass doors and waited for her to pass by, fighting the urge to sweep her up into his arms and step back onto the elevator and hustle her back to his room. His palms itched to do just that when she placed a hand at the center of his chest, glancing up at him briefly to give a breathy, “Thank you.”

  Everything about her, from her nervous tics to the clothes she wore, shouted her inner conflict. Her innocence was at war with a more confident, eager-to-experience-life woman. She seemed painfully young, and yet, oh so curious. Hips swaying, she strode past a line of lounge chairs to the deck railing. Maxim didn’t miss the interested glances from several of the men populating the rooftop bar.

  “For?” he asked, rushing to catch up.

  “Being a gentleman.” She did that hair tuck thing again that made his fingers twitch to take over.

  He almost snorted. If she knew what he was thinking and feeling, how he wanted to shield her from all the prying eyes, whisk her away and strip off those clothes… she wouldn’t call him a gentleman. In fact, he’d be willing to bet that she’d go wide-eyed, then turn tail and run.

  No, he didn’t feel particularly gentlemanly right now. She made his inner wolf sit up and take notice. It was all he could do to keep the damn beast calm. “No one’s ever called me a gentleman before.”

  He wouldn’t tell her the list of things he had been called. Some good. Some, not so good. Cagey, crazy, brilliant, moody, self-reliant, even selfish. No, he wasn’t about to tell her and ruin her first impression of him.

  “That doesn’t mean it’s not true.”

  As for the men watching her as she strode past the bar, he shot them all a proprietary glance as he joined her at the rail. “See them yet?”

  Hands on the banister, she leaned forward, her gaze sweeping right, and then far left. The breeze caught her hair, whipping it away to reveal the column of her throat. Suddenly she wasn’t standing on the rooftop bar, but rather on the back deck of his home, looking out over the valley. And instead of short gym shorts and a T-shirt, she wore a sleeveless dress that showed off her shoulders to perfection. The wind carried her silky hair around in a riotous mess. That profile. So familiar. So perfect.

  “No,” she said, pulling him from the daydream.

  “Keep looking. I’ll look this way.”

  She glanced over at him and smiled. It was a small smile, not the least bit sexual, but he felt it all the way to his toes.

  Needing a bit of distance to clear his head, he stepped around her and made his way to the end of the observation deck. Soft holiday music and ceaseless chatter carried on the breeze. The deck offered a three hundred and sixty degree view of the island and the dark ocean waters beyond. From here, the stars looked within reach. The moon, a marshmallow to be plucked from the sky and devoured.

  A newly familiar scent swirled beneath his nose and he shifted to make space for her.

  “There,” she said simply, lifting a long, elegant arm to point at the ocean.

  He followed her finger, the same finger he’d recently had in his mouth, and saw the school of dolphins swimming through the moon-streaked sea. Wordlessly, they stood and watched until the dolphins swam out of sight.

  She turned to him then, grinning shyly. “That was amazing. I love dolphins.”

  “You should try a swimming excursion,” he suggested, trying to keep his cock calm.

  “Oh—” Her excitement dimmed quickly as she digested the idea. Then, “I can’t.”

  He started to ask why not but a burst of red light halted the words on his lips. Behind them, fireworks exploded in the night sky. The party-goers on the deck all shuffled to the far side of the roof, oohing and ahhing.

  He didn’t miss the way the woman at his side flinched when the enormous boom shook the air around them, reverberating through his bones.

  “You all right?” he asked, sliding a hand across her back to give her shoulder a squeeze.

  She nodded quickly. “I’ve never seen them before.”

  “Firewor
ks?”

  “In real life, I mean.”

  Ahh.

  “The boom is much louder,” she added.

  “Yes.”

  She stayed rooted to the spot, her hand gripping the railing tightly. Too tightly. She might be young, but like all vamps she was strong. The wood splintered beneath her fingernails.

  He trailed a hand down her arm, felt her shiver, and laced his fingers through hers. “Why don’t you hold on to me? I’m indestructible.”

  She felt so perfect against him. Like a piece of him had returned. But that was a foolish thought. A part of him had never gone missing. Chin resting atop her head, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her against him. Together they stood, silently absorbing the moment, the incredible percussion and glittering showers of color.

  “Did you know that fireworks date back to seventh century China?” she asked.

  His lips twitched. So she was a trivia fan. That suited her.

  “No. I didn’t.”

  She started to say something else. He could feel her lungs expand, almost see the wheels in her mind turning. But she remained silent.

  For the first time since he’d met her, she seemed to relax. Her breathing steadied. Her heartbeat calmed. And she shivered, but he was almost certain she wasn’t shaking with fear.

  She was absolutely charming.

  When the encore was over she stayed right where she was. He liked that she no longer seemed in a hurry to go somewhere. In fact, she seemed content. With the show over, the deck cleared out almost immediately. A few stray couples in various states of undress took up residence on the plush patio loungers. He was used to the public sexcapades. Shifters weren’t known for their modesty. Hell, he liked to swim in the buff.

  But the lovely creature in his arms made him want to hide her away from it all and keep her to himself. The main problem with that idea, no… there were two major problems with that idea.

  First, she wasn’t the type of woman to have a one-night stand. And secondly, that was all he could offer her.

  Damn.

  Double damn.

  Chapter Three

  Ceara turned in his arms and placed her hands against the rock-hard wall of his chest. He was easily the most handsome man she’d ever seen. Up close, with his heat radiating around her like a thick fur coat… it only added to his appeal. And made him impossible to resist.

  She felt an attraction so strong she couldn’t figure out what to do next. All she knew was that she had to keep touching him. Needed to soak up his affections for as long as he’d let her. How had she become addicted to him in such a short period of time?

  But she was. She couldn’t deny it. All the symptoms were there. The thought of walking across the rooftop without him, much less back to her cottage or even back to France, sent icy shards of resignation through her.

  Somehow the darkness made her brave. Or maybe it was him. His quiet, steady assurance. He knew what he wanted. She could see that determination in his eyes. If only she knew what it was that he wanted.

  Dropping her gaze, she glanced out over the water. “Thank you for bringing me up here.” The school of dolphins had been incredible, the fireworks, a memory she’d never forget.

  But mostly, it was his presence that made the last hour so special. She didn’t need the fireworks to feel a quake deep to her bones. His touch had done that. The rich timbre of his voice. His delicious accent.

  “My pleasure.”

  He sounded genuine, like he’d truly enjoyed himself. But Ceara wasn’t a prize. Not like Valencia. She was pretty enough, but V told her often enough that she didn’t play up her assets. If she were to follow V’s instructions, could she hope to win a man like this? A man who rescued damsels and made them feel special.

  In that moment, soaking up the shelter of his arms, she realized that he was the man she’d dreamed of her whole life. The knight in shining armor, brave enough to go to war for her. She knew it because she’d managed to go for a whole half hour with a quiet mind. There were no whispers from the grave. No warnings from her dead parents.

  This man, whoever he was, was strong enough to protect her. To shelter her.

  She hadn’t missed the way he’d stared down every man on the deck tonight.

  His presence soothed her, stopped her fidgeting. What would happen when they parted ways? She didn’t want to think of that right now. Now she just wanted to soak up his presence. His confidence. Dream of a full life where she took risks and…

  “The night doesn’t have to be over just yet.”

  Heart thundering, she turned in his arms. Was he suggesting—

  “Calm down, little vamp. As much as I’d love to rip your poor excuse for an outfit from that delicious body you’re hiding underneath and ravish you, I realize you’re not ready for that yet.”

  His words made her body flush with heat. A delicious, physiological heat she’d never, in her twenty-one years, felt before. For a moment she wondered if she was melting.

  Ravish… really? She—he—

  His hands skimmed up her back and he cupped her cheeks.

  “I need to kiss you,” he admitted, his beautiful brown eyes locked on her lips. His pupils flared until the warm brown all but disappeared. “I’ve been dying to since the moment you first looked at me, your lips trembling ever so slightly. I wanted to smooth away that fear and beat that demon over the head for scaring you.”

  Ceara stared at him, mute. He said the best things. Then, feeling soft and pliant, she nodded and closed her eyes.

  “Have you ever been kissed before, my beautiful little vamp?”

  She shook her head, seeing no reason to lie. “But it’s on my list,” she whispered. He would probably recognize how inexperienced she was the moment his lips met hers.

  But what she lacked in experience, she made up for in education. Her parents had kept her locked away from the world but they hadn’t locked away the world from her. She’d devoured their massive library by the time she’d been twelve. And then they’d allowed her to get a computer. The internet was ridiculously informative. Sometimes incorrect and crass, but amazingly diverse.

  He laughed. “Your list?”

  She opened her eyes, feeling a blush creeping into her cheeks. How did she explain her list? Especially to a man like him? She licked her lips.

  He groaned.

  “My bucket list. All the things I want to do in my life.”

  The corners of his mouth turned up ever so slightly. “You sound like an ancient.”

  She’d heard of them. Never met one. She shook her head, bravery seeping into her like a slow release drug. “You wouldn’t understand. But tonight…” She dropped her gaze to the pearlescent button of his shirt. Then she looked into his eyes again. “Tonight is like the first night of my life.”

  He was silent for a long time, studying her. Obviously trying to figure out her meaning.

  “What else is on this list of yours?”

  His voice was soft, inquisitive, but rich like the finest Swiss chocolate. The fact that he didn’t laugh at her, didn’t question her past, think her young and silly… she lost a little of her heart right then.

  “Build a sandcastle. Dance in the rain. See a live orchestra. Swim with dolphins. Play my violin on stage in front of a sold out hall.” Every item she listed off made her excitement grow. She could hear her voice getting higher, her words coming out quicker.

  He reached for her left hand and examined her fingertips. “How long have you played?”

  “Since I was four.”

  “A child prodigy.”

  She looked away. “Something like that.”

  He released her hand and cupped her cheek. She rubbed against it, soaking in his heat. When he tipped her chin up and leaned close, she closed her eyes and let out a shuddering breath.

  “Open your eyes,” he whispered.

  She complied.

  “I want you to see who’s kissing you, so you’ll remember.”

&nb
sp; She swallowed. He ducked his head until a mere inch separated them. She was positive she’d remember this moment for the rest of eternity. His gentle strength, barely leashed restraint, beautiful eyes, that kissable mouth. It would be so easy to lose herself in his touch. Forget the here and now, who she was, and why she was here. But she knew that he, them, this moment, would be unforgettable.

  He trailed a thumb against her cheek and then closed the distance. Warm lips roamed hers, softly at first. A gentle quest that made her feel light and airy. Her fingers flexed against his chest, then curled into his shirt. Amazing.

  Why did it feel so good? Lips against lips? Just flesh and yet it was… incredible. A connection like she’d never known.

  His hips shifted against her and she felt the undeniable evidence of his desire. So maybe it was possible that a man like him could want a girl like her.

  “Oh, I want you, sweetheart,” he said, his lips a scant half centimeter from hers. Far enough away to speak, but close enough that they brushed against hers, igniting a fiery desire deep inside. “God knows you deserve better, but don’t doubt for a second that I’m hard because of you.”

  Who was he to talk of deserving?

  Hands sweating, she pressed her lips against his.

  She’d read somewhere that biting, nibbling, and nipping were commonplace during sex, and for the first time she understood the desire. She wanted to eat him up. Not just taste his blood, that too, but to nip and nibble those sexy lips. His square chin.

  His left hand drifted down and wrapped gently around her throat, and another rush of moisture wet her core. Thrown by the marvelous response from her body, she was shocked when his tongue swept along the seam of her lips. Surprised further by the way her body seemed to come alive, shifting against him of its own accord. Softening, molding against his strong frame, growing wetter with each and every kiss.

  His tongue swept inside her mouth, hot and wet. Not asking. Just taking. Another flush ran over her skin and she sighed, melting against him completely.