by Lora Leigh
“Do you want to die?” Amusement laced his voice, amusement and something more, something dark and shadowed.
Something hungry.
Her eyes closed as she felt a caress against her hair, fingers twining in it, testing the curls, as a hum of appreciation stroked against her senses.
“I’ll die either way.” She stared into the pond, wondering at her own cowardice. “I won’t leave here alive, you know?”
Silence met her question, but she knew he heard her, knew he hadn’t left. She could feel him in the air she breathed, in the slow caresses in her hair.
“What makes you so certain of that?” Curiosity filled his voice. A voice that was dark, sensual.
“I know things . . .” Sometimes, she knew terrible things. Things she didn’t want to know, didn’t want to see or sense. “I see things sometimes . . .”
“I won’t let you die, little halfling,” he whispered just behind her, causing her to tremble at the warmth of his breath at her ear. “I’ll watch over you.”
He wasn’t taking her seriously, but it didn’t matter. She wasn’t going to protest the fact. Why argue when this would likely be the only time she knew a measure of what it felt like to be desired, to be touched by a man.
“You were watching me when I was on the balcony,” she whispered, her head tilting to the side as she felt a calloused finger stroke down her neck.
“I was,” he admitted. “I should have been keeping watch on the property. Instead, all I was watching was you.”
Still, that amusement lingered in his voice.
“Why?” She needed to know. She needed something to hold on to, to make the next few days bearable.
“Because, my little halfling, you’re mine . . .”
She stiffened in outrage, in anger, but before she could turn and inform him just how insane he was, he was gone.
Wide-eyed, her heart racing, she stared at the swaying leaves of the huge ferns behind her and heard a whisper of a chuckle somewhere in the darkness.
“Cassie.” The atrium doors were thrown open as her father’s voice echoed through the artificial glade, dark with menace, with warning.
His enforcers rushed through the atrium, at least half a dozen, converging on her as she drew her robe on and tied the satin ribbons holding it closed.
“What’s going on?” She jumped to her feet, staring around at the Wolf Breeds suddenly searching the spacious atrium, checking the areas of heavy growth with dangerous purpose.
“Cassie, sweetheart, it’s time to go now.” Dash Sinclair pushed through the foliage that hid her from the door, his amber gaze piercing as it went over her. “Are you all right?”
Was she all right? His guards had checked the area before she entered it; no one knew the visitor had been there.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Looking around the atrium, seeing the Breeds who still searched it, she turned back to him, realizing with heavy sadness that her time there was finished. “It’s not like I’m actually outside, right?”
He stared behind her, his eyes narrowed, nostrils flaring as though testing the air for any unfamiliar scents.
“Why are they searching the room?” she questioned him then. “They searched it before I came in.”
If they found her visitor, what would they do to him? Her father would be furious. Whoever he was, he carried no scent, which meant he was trying to hide from Breeds. No doubt he was the enemy.
“There’s been trouble in the main house,” he told her, a growl in his voice. “Come on, let’s get you back upstairs.” He held his hand out to her, his expression implacable when his gaze returned to hers. “It’s getting late.”
She was being dragged back to her room as though she were a toddler. Evidently the trouble had already been taken care of and her father had somehow realized she wasn’t in her room when he went to check on her.
“And of course I’m still a child who has no idea how to defend myself, nor do I have guards on my ass twenty-four-seven.” She ignored his outstretched hand and pushed past him instead. “For God’s sake, Dad, I’m not ten.”
She didn’t wait around for his reply or the confusion she knew she would glimpse in his eyes. He couldn’t understand, couldn’t know the hell her dreams were becoming or the anger that clashed through her every waking second.
She was going to die here soon. So very soon.
If her father had just let her have this time, in this place, maybe she could have stolen something for herself. Maybe she could have figured out why the man whose gunsights she’d felt on the balcony outside her room didn’t terrify her.
Why he drew her.
Why she ached for his warmth for just a moment, just for tonight. Because tomorrow night would be too late. She’d seen the vision of the bullet, the blood. She’d watched herself fall within that waking dream.
She’d be dead.
* * *
• • •
He watched her leave, a shadow within a shadow, and waited for the Breed Enforcers who followed her father to clear the room. It took them a while.
Of course, they knew he was there. What they couldn’t smell, they could sense, and they sensed him. Rather than moving or becoming nervous because of their continued search, he merely waited, patient, unconcerned. At first, half of them left; the others were still and silent, waiting for movement. They waited for a quarter of an hour; then they all left, but one.
He would have grinned if he didn’t know that slight movement would give him away. The Breed they left was damned good. Patient. Deadly. Experienced in the hunt.
This one waited nearly an hour.
“You’re good,” the voice whispered through the darkness. “Whoever you are, you’re damned good.”
Yeah, he was damned good.
He remained calm, patient. He wasn’t worried in the least. He knew how to do this, and he was good at it.
“I’ll be waiting,” the Scots Wolf assured him, his brogue more apparent now. “If you want to live, you’ll stay the hell away from her.”
The Breed didn’t attempt to hide his movements or his ire as he stomped to the doors and disappeared through them.
Still, he didn’t move. He remained on the ledge far above the atrium and simply stared down at the pool where Cassie had sat.
He’d nearly been caught, and that fact wasn’t lost on him. He hadn’t been listening for company; he’d been too busy listening to the quickening of her breath, smelling the spice of her innocent arousal, the sweetness of her. It had been a hell of a risk to take.
She was a woman worth risking his life for.
What Breed wouldn’t risk everything for his mate?
•CHAPTER 1•
SIX YEARS LATER
WINDOW ROCK, ARIZONA
This was a very bad idea. She knew it was a bad idea, but she was still here, and she was still doing it. She stopped at the door of the suite she had been directed to, slid the security card into place, then pushed open the door and stepped inside.
The smell of cigar smoke reached her senses the moment Cassie entered the room at the Navajo Suites where she’d been told to meet the Breed she now owed one hell of a debt to. The scent of the tobacco, rather than acrid and distasteful, was a bit mellow, soothing. Rather like those she’d known other Breeds to indulge in.
That was at least something familiar, something not so disconcerting as the decision she’d made to come here.
God, she didn’t even know his name. All she knew was the number she’d been left six years ago and the message that accompanied it. You were beautiful in the moonlight, little halfling. If you need me, call. But there will always be a price to pay, the note had read.
And she had made the call often over the years, though she was never certain why she could trust him so easily. The price had begun small, but with each call made i
t had grown steadily. Still, she had enjoyed the game.
Until now.
But hadn’t she known it would eventually come to this?
What woman agreed to sleep with a man whose name she didn’t even know? Whose face she’d never seen?
A crazy woman, that was who. Or a very desperate one.
She closed the door behind her softly, set the lock and stared at the opened balcony doors where the shadow of a large, powerful Breed stood. The tip of a slim cigar brightened as he inhaled, then dimmed, clenched between strong white teeth as they flashed in a brief smile.
A Coyote’s smile.
“Didn’t expect you to keep your word,” he said, his voice quiet, deep, as he lifted one hand to remove the cylinder of pressed tobacco.
A second later it was tossed over the balcony railing, its fiery point of light disappearing as it fell to earth.
“You did as I asked.” She shrugged. “My sister’s safe.”
God, if only she had known sooner that her twin, Kenzi, had been taken. She was supposed to be safe. And she’d learned too late, sensed the danger her sister was in after she was taken rather than before.
The gift she had been cursed with as a child had all but deserted her now, in her twenties. When she most needed it. When it could actually help her rather than tear her apart. And this time it had almost come too late to ensure their safety.
She was safe now, though. Cassie had heard the report that Kenzi was in Breed hands. The moment it had been announced Kenzi had been found, Cassie had slipped from the Bureau of Breed Affairs apartments to meet her savior as he’d directed her.
“Didn’t mean you’d show up,” he pointed out laconically. “It’s not as though I could sue for breach of agreement.”
He was right, so why had she shown up?
She could have ignored their bargain once Kenzi was safe. But he’d never, in all these years, broken his word to her. No matter how dangerous her requests, no matter how difficult, he’d always come through for her.
As he said, he couldn’t sue her. There would have been nothing he could have done if she had chosen to ignore the deal she had made with him. It was just that somehow, it had seemed rather wrong to do so.
“I don’t break my word,” she finally answered him. “You should know that by now.”
A mocking chuckle filled the room.
“Know what I think?” he said then, turning to face her as he slid the balcony door closed. The blinds closed automatically behind him.
“Does it matter?” She was certain she didn’t want to know what he thought.
“Oh, I think it matters,” he answered, his voice low. “I think it matters very much.”
“Are we here to talk or finish the bargain?” No, she didn’t want to know what he thought; she wanted to get this the hell over with and get back to the Bureau offices, where she was safe.
Where this Breed couldn’t find her.
Stepping to the small table beside the couch, he flipped on a low light, though neither of them really needed it. She would have preferred he left the light off.
If he had, then she couldn’t have seen his features in such stark display and breathtaking savagery.
He shouldn’t be so handsome, was her first thought. Her second? He was dangerous. One of the most dangerous Breeds she’d ever glimpsed.
She could see it in the hard, savage lines of his face, the piercing gray eyes, the tall, corded strength of his body.
He was one of the most powerful Breeds she’d ever sensed in her life. Not just physically, but in that inner core of strength. And this man’s core of strength had no end.
It went deeper than her father’s, deeper than Jonas’s, and that was saying something. It possibly went even deeper than her own, and that was terrifying.
Shaggy dark blond hair fell around a broad forehead, darker lashes surrounded steel gray eyes, and a strong, powerful chin assured her that he wouldn’t be just determined, but arrogant as hell with it.
His lips quirked into a mocking grin. Just a hint of a smile, one that assured her that she wasn’t the only one with finely adapted senses. Her Breed instincts bristled, heated, parts of her demanding she challenge him while other parts wanted only to submit.
“Curious, aren’t you?” The slight growl to his voice had an unbidden chill racing down her spine. “The Breed princess wants to see what it’s like to get down and dirty for a change?”
Her eyes narrowed. Breed princess?
“Haven’t heard that little nickname yet?” He chuckled.
Oh, she’d heard it often, actually.
Moving to the bar across the room, he poured two glasses half full of liquor. Picking the glasses up, he walked unhurriedly to where she stood and extended one to her.
“The perfect little Breed,” he said as she accepted the drink. “Able to argue Breed Law with a charm that can convince the Council to separate mates and human lawyers to allow a human child to be taken from its father. The Breed with a siren’s voice.”
“That’s ridiculous,” she snapped. “Not everyone knows the laws that rule our people, or understands them . . .”
“As I said, very intelligent.” He toasted her with his drink before tossing it back. “With a siren’s voice.”
Sipping the liquor, she watched him carefully.
Siren’s voice her ass.
She knew Breed Law and she knew how to argue it. It was that simple.
“What does Breed Law have to do with this . . . ?”
“Do you know when the media mentions you, they simply call you a Wolf Breed? All those little mutant Coyote genetics you possess seem to be forgotten.”
Her heart was racing; how unusual. Her breathing was elevated, and she swore she felt flushed. She didn’t want to talk about her genetics or anything else. She wanted this done. Finished.
“We’re not here to discuss me or the media . . .”
“You made a deal with a Coyote, little halfling,” he drawled, his expression somber despite the mockery in his gaze. “You’ve been aware of that. Right?”
If she hadn’t been before, she sure as hell became aware of it the moment she stepped through the door.
“I’m aware.” She was a Breed after all; she could smell the Coyote on him . . . though it was faint. “I’ve known all along what you were.”
The scent was subtle, as though something covered it.
“Are you wearing a scent blocker?” Tilting her head to the side, she watched him carefully, drawing the scent in deeper.
“It may be wearing off.” He moved back to the bar, poured another drink and tossed it back. “And you’re right; we came here to finish a bargain.”
He finished the drink, and before she could do more than flinch, he slapped the glass to the bar, took two steps and managed to snag her waist with one strong arm and jerk her to him.
“Now, let’s see, what was the deal?” That was a definite growl, a spark of anger in his gaze. “No kissing.” His thumb brushed against her lips. “I can’t eat what is no doubt a sweet little pussy. And I can’t come inside you. Are those the rules?”
Why the hell was her heart racing out of control and why did she suddenly want his kiss as she had never wanted anything in her life? Wanted his kiss everywhere.
She was crazy. This was beyond desperate.
“Those are the rules.”
Something hot, hungry, flared in his expression. It tightened, his cheekbones becoming more pronounced as his lashes lowered over his eyes.
“Other than that, it’s whatever I want?” he asked, his tone curious, but there was nothing curious in his gaze or his expression. “Tonight, you’re mine.”
She licked her suddenly dry lips; nerves and fear of the unknown had to be the reasons why she was just a little bit light-headed and fighting for breath.
“Just for tonight,” she agreed. “I leave before dawn.”
Something akin to regret flashed in his face.
“Four hours,” he murmured. “Then we better get started. You have a lot to learn in those hours.”
A lot to learn . . .
She was not going to tremble or shake with nerves, she told herself. Show no weakness. Never let anyone see you weak. No one. Especially a Coyote.
When he caught her hand, she was proud to say it wasn’t damp and her fingers didn’t tremble. She kept her head high, her expression serene. She’d learned over the years how to do that. How to hold back the fear, uncertainty and nerves under trying conditions.
Not that she’d ever been in this particular situation before, and as he led her past the living suite and into the bedroom, she nearly lost her nerve.
The bed was turned down invitingly, pillows lying flat, waiting for a body to lie within it, and there were candles. Three lit candles.
The door closed behind them, almost silently; still, it was all she could do to control her flinch.
He dropped her hand immediately. “Go home, princess.” Disgust edged his voice as he flashed her a look of scorn. “Consider tonight’s work a freebie.”
Anger. She could feel it inside him. It wasn’t rolling off him in waves; it came out as mocking unconcern, but it was there all the same.
She’d made the deal. Her sister was safe, and she’d come this far. If she backed out now, she’d never regain her courage. And he might never be there to help her again.
She reached behind her and released the small catch on her skirt, then slid the zipper down. The sound was a quiet hiss in the otherwise still room. Staring at him, she let the material drop, leaving her clad only in the camisole, vest and high-cut black lace panties.
With a shrug of her shoulders she released the vest.
“I’m a virgin,” she whispered, refusing to drop her gaze or show any shame. “If you’re looking for experience, or for me to know how to please you, then that isn’t going to happen.”
