by Tina Donahue
Before he let her inside the vehicle, he checked the tires then looked beneath the carriage.
Bent at the waist, she kept her voice low. “Please tell me you’re not looking for a car bomb.”
“I’m not.” He stood and slapped his hands together. “A tracking device. There wasn’t any.” He cupped her elbow. “We’re good to go.”
Tell that to her increasing dizziness at his heat seeping into her, his wondrous scent surrounding them.
Once inside, he adjusted the seat and mirrors, taking control.
She didn’t mind. The Beemer looked better on him than it ever had on her. “Have you always been a bodyguard?”
“Nope.” He negotiated the car onto the main road, the traffic heavy despite the hour, his manner ever watchful and cautious. “I’m ex-military.”
No surprise. His commanding presence controlled their environment and his emotions.
How she envied him. Her hands were so damp she had to wipe them on her dress. “What branch?”
“I served as an Army Ranger. Specifically, a sniper.”
He’d killed people. That should have disturbed her but didn’t. He wasn’t a cruel or vicious man by nature. After hooking up with Zander, Desiree had finally recognized the hallmarks of a psychopath: a casual disregard for other’s feelings, pleasure in pain, lying when the truth would fit better, all the sick stuff she should have noticed and avoided. “Do you miss it?”
“No.” He glanced at her then back to the street and mirrors. “War’s only fun when it’s a video game or what the powers-that-be want when they don’t have any skin in the conflict, just someone else’s son or daughter giving their lives to protect assets for their rich benefactors.”
She couldn’t have chosen a better answer. “Did you lose any buddies?”
“Too fucking many.” Sorrow touched his features.
“I’m so sorry.” She squeezed his arm.
He laid his hand over hers, warming her further. “Thanks. But I’m okay.”
Typical man, denying his heartache. Not that she’d call him on it. “Did the Army know you’re a shifter?”
His booming laughter filled the interior, as did his heavy sigh. “God no.” He pulled his hand from hers and gripped the wheel. “I don’t want to consider how they might have used me if they’d known.” He took a right on the next street. “Don’t get me wrong. Some of the finest men I know are in the military. But those at the very top and in Washington…” He shook his head. “To them, conflicts have little to do with freedom. It’s about empire building, securing natural resources, and the other crap people fight over with civilians bearing the worst casualties and hardships. I joined to make a difference to those people, not so my superiors could use me to further their secret agendas.”
He sounded like the war-weary millennials she’d heard on YouTube. “Did your superiors drum you out for your views?”
“If they’d known how I felt, I might have ended up in the stockade. If that happened, I couldn’t help those who really needed me, so I kept my thoughts to myself and did what I can to change hearts and mind.” He looked at her. “Are you disappointed I’m not GI Joe or a wannabe Rambo?”
“You’re a brave man and should be proud of what you’ve done. I am.”
A smile tugged at his mouth. He glanced to the side. “We’re here. Hope you’re hungry.”
She was, though not for food. His closeness chased away all other things, leaving only intense craving for him. Something within her quivered, akin to a heart skipping several beats. A wonderful yet sad reminder of the mortal she’d once been.
Uh-uh. Don’t go there.
She didn’t want misery tonight, only hope.
As he’d done at her apartment and parking lot, he surveilled the area before getting her door.
Not wanting to pretend indifference, she slipped her hand in his and squeezed his fingers.
He caressed hers, his thumb gliding over her knuckles.
Her legs went watery. Willingly—hell, eagerly—she allowed him to lead her inside.
New Moon proved quite large and busy, the décor upscale yet relaxed rather than pretentious. Silver and blue shades predominated providing a celestial feel, though strangely romantic, the lights low, plants abundant. As though they were dining in a moon-washed garden.
Smooth jazz played in the background, adding to the magical appeal.
Since being turned, Desiree hadn’t ventured out much, afraid a bigoted mortal would recognize what she was and might attack. The couples here, mostly paras, dressed casually and looked as ordinary as everyone else, caught up in their own worlds, enjoying themselves.
“Good evening.” The host offered a toothy smile. “Follow me.”
Halfway across the room, Hunter gripped the young man’s arm, stopping him. “No.” He gestured to a table against the wall. “We want that one.”
“Of course.” Upon reaching the setting, he laid menus on the plates. “Your server will be with you shortly.”
Hunter pulled out a chair for Desiree then scooted another over and sat smack next to her, rather than across.
She would have liked to believe he wanted to be near her but sensed he had another objective. “Are we sitting this way for you to see if Brooke shows up?”
“Do you mind?”
“Only that she’s caused this. Will it ever be over? In a good way? Nobody hurt?”
“Yes, yes, and yes.” He gave her a firm, military look. “Nothing’s going to happen to you. That’s why I’m here. But you need to tell me everything you know about her.”
Shoving pins under her nails would have been more pleasant, but Desiree knew where he was coming from. “Until she started stalking me, I didn’t know she existed. We weren’t friends.”
He put the leather-covered menu aside then scanned the room. “But Zander was still dating her when you hooked up with him.”
She bristled, not liking trash talk from Hunter any more than when Brooke had spewed it. “According to her. All. Right? If you’re implying he threw her over for me, maybe he did. But I wasn’t aware in the least that he was involved with anyone. When he got friendly, I asked his status. The prick said he was totally free. If I’d known he lied…” She squeezed her fist, digging her nails into her palm. “I don’t betray other women. Men have fucked up relationships since time began without any help from me.”
“Understood, and I should have worded my comment better. I’m not judging, just looking for details, okay?”
She appreciated the sincere apology in his eyes but still needed a moment to calm. “Want me to retract my claws?”
“Please?”
She managed a small smile. “Done. What else do you want to know?”
“In one of her messages, she said you mentioned him during a show. Was this while you were dating or after he turned you?”
“None of the above. She’s either lying or hallucinating because I never spoke his name or would. Desiree After Dark isn’t about me, it’s for my callers, trying to help solve their problems. Besides, I’m not an exhibitionist like the crazies in Hollywood and would never broadcast my private life to strangers.”
He pulled out his smartphone.
She grasped his wrist. “You’re not going to call her and ask what she meant, are you?”
“No.” He struggled not to smile. “I’m going to record what you tell me, if you don’t mind.”
She did, not wanting their meal to turn into an interrogation, rather than them getting to know each other as he’d promised earlier. Again, she had to remind herself he was her bodyguard, not a date. “No.”
He played with her fingers. “Sure?”
With him touching her, she couldn’t think and brought back her hand, resisting her strong attraction to him. “Fire away. I’ll answer as best I can.”
He set the phone to record, provided the time, location, and who was present. “Since you didn’t mention Zander by name on your broadcast, what is Brooke talking about?”
“I have no idea.” Arms crossed, Desiree gripped her elbows. “Maybe she’s hearing stuff that hasn’t happened.”
“Have you counseled anyone who’s been turned like you?”
She went colder than she ever had since becoming a vampire and suppressed a shudder. “A couple of days ago.”
“Was that right before you got Brooke’s note about mentioning Zander?”
“Yeah.” Bile rose to her throat. “But I didn’t say his name or anything remotely close to what we shared.”
“But you commiserated with your caller about losing someone she loved who she’d believed returned her feelings?”
“How could I not? I’m not there to judge or call names. Oh shit.” Her stomach knotted. “I told the caller that falling in love wasn’t her fault or a sign of weakness. We all succumb to powerful feelings and nurse heartbreak. Sometimes we’re lucky and the relationship works out in the end. But if it doesn’t…”
He leaned in. “What?”
“At that point, the caller said she should try harder to win him back and would no matter what it took or who he was with now. That she’d fuck any babe to get him. Her words, not mine.”
“I’m afraid Brooke didn’t catch the distinction.”
Desiree clasped his hand between hers. “Do you think it would help if I trash him on my show and say I want nothing to do with him? At this point, I’m willing to try anything, even if it opens up my past to the audience. Hell, I’ll gladly say Brooke’s the best person ever and he should give her another go.”
“Wouldn’t that tell your audience he dumped her for you?”
After that humiliation, there was no telling what Brooke might do to make herself feel better. When it came to her, there was no winning. “This is so fucked.”
He curled his fingers around hers. “Every problem has a solution. We’ll find it together. I give you my word.”
She believed him and didn’t hate herself for caving to her feelings. Sometimes, a woman needed a strong man. As far as she could tell, he was the best. “Where in the world did you come from?”
“What?” Bewilderment crossed his rugged features. “Why do you ask?”
“You’re too good for this world.”
He laughed. “Seriously?”
“Yeah, I—”
“Good evening. Welcome to New Moon.” The young woman grinned. “I’m Ariel, and I’ll be your server this evening. Would you care to start off with a drink?”
“I’ll have a Death by Chocolate.” Desiree opened her menu. “Give me a sec and I’ll be ready to order, too.”
“Take your time. Sir?”
“Red wine and a porterhouse, rare. Braised rabbit on the side.”
“Excellent choice.”
Desiree ran her finger down the desserts. “I’ll have the chocolate lava cake, a jumbo brownie, and icebox chocolate cheesecake.”
The server stared.
Hunter handed his menu to her. “Bring the lady whatever she wants and anything special the chef’s created, as long as it contains chocolate.”
“Yes, sir.” She sped away but kept glancing back.
Desiree didn’t blame her, considering her chocoholic ways. She looked at Hunter. “Think I should go to rehab for my addiction?”
“Not a chance.” He took in her features, settling on her eyes. “You’re perfect exactly as you are. Don’t change. Ever. Not for anyone, especially me.”
Honesty shone on his face, more than she’d seen from any man.
Wonder filled her.
Never had a woman stared at Hunter as Desiree did, as lost in his gaze as he was in hers.
The world shifted, colors becoming brighter, everything in sharper focus.
It didn’t seem possible for his heart to pound as forcefully as it did without breaking through his ribs, but he couldn’t quiet it. He’d liked her from the start, but even more now, and he certainly meant what he’d said. There wasn’t a thing about her he didn’t enjoy. Her scent, personality, looks, intelligence, and compassion were better than what he’d experienced in several women, much less one. Affection mingled with his lust, making him vulnerable and unconcerned about protecting himself. “Eat all the chocolate you want. If they run out here, I’ll order in more.”
She chuckled, the sound light and musical. “Better be careful, I might take you up on that.” She twisted to face him. “About you being too good for this world. Are you Gerri’s son?”
He laughed so hard, he struggled for breath. “Me? God no.”
“Then she’s your aunt?” Desiree frowned. “Grandmother?”
Unable to speak, he waved his hands until he calmed. “No and no. Please don’t ever let her hear you say that about her age.”
“I wasn’t being critical.” Worry touched her features. “She looks great, however old she is. I can’t figure out how you two know each other.” She regarded him and shook her head. “You don’t seem the type to go to PDA to find your mate.”
“Thanks, and I’m not.” He cleared his throat, but laughter still bubbled up. “She’s been trying to match me for years.”
“Oh.” Desiree slumped. “You tried but no one has worked out yet?”
“I never tried because I didn’t want a match.”
Something crossed her face then disappeared. “Ever?”
He couldn’t figure out whether she was disappointed or pissed. “At the time and not from her agency.”
“Ah…” She perked up, her lovely smile returning.
The best response she could have given him. “What about you? You’ve been to PDA to find someone?”
“No way. I’m not into dating services either. I like romance the old-fashioned way, finding it for myself.” Her smile collapsed. “Or rather crashing and burning on my own.”
“Zander isn’t your fault. Do yourself a favor and take the advice you offer others.”
She slid her gaze to him.
Being sane, not suicidal, he didn’t push. “So, how did you meet Gerri?”
“Technically, I haven’t. She advertises PDA on my show, even broke into my broadcast tonight to tell me you were outside my door to save my ass.”
What a remarkable one it was, along with her other curves. For once, he was glad Gerri hadn’t given up trying to match him. He knew without question, Desiree was his fated mate. For shifters, those connections happened within seconds, not months or years, a benefit in not being fully human and totally fucked up. Nor did it matter she was undead. He’d never met a woman who made him feel more alive. “Did she talk me up?”
Her face actually reddened.
How, Hunter didn’t know unless his mortal DNA was somehow seeping into her and pushing out her vampire traits. He’d have to research the phenomenon and see if it was possible. “What exactly did she say?”
Desiree mumbled something.
“Sorry.” He cupped his ear and leaned closer. “Didn’t catch that.”
She pressed her mouth to his ear.
Every nerve ending he owned fired, leaving him breathless and weak.
“That’s it.” She eased away.
He had to stop from hauling her back and kissing her clear through tomorrow. “That’s what? I didn’t hear what you said.” He hadn’t even realized she’d spoken.
Mischief sparkled in her eyes. “You want me to brag on you some more?”
“Sure. Why not? Please.”
Her laughter tinkled. “She said you were a hero.” Again, her face flamed. “And other stuff.”
The last part she’d murmured. “Was it good?”
“Oh yeah.” Embarrassment and excitement filled her eyes. “Unbelievably great.”
He hoped someday she’d provide details.
For now, she busied herself with smoothing her napkin over her lap then turned off his smartphone. “Did your family approve of you becoming a Ranger?” She made a face. “And a sniper? I’m not being critical, it’s just such an awful, if necessary, job. Did they worry?”
&nb
sp; No one had ever asked him about his past. His buddies didn’t pry into personal matters. The women he’d hooked up with focused solely on sex, as he did.
Or had until meeting Desiree and wanting to know everything about her for personal, not professional reasons. Uncertain how to answer or bring up early years he’d rather forget, he lifted his shoulders.
She looked at him as if he’d grown another head. “Are you saying they didn’t know you were in the military? Wait.” She pressed her hand to her chest. “You didn’t tell them? Holy hell, why not? You could have died.”
“I didn’t.”
Her grimace worsened.
“Hang on before you write me off.” To get her good humor back, he would have conceded and confessed anything. “They weren’t my family. I didn’t think they needed to know what I did once I moved out of their house and figured they wouldn’t care if I had told them.”
Sadness filled her eyes. She cupped his face. “How awful. What happened to your real folks—your biological parents?”
He shrugged.
“Please, tell me.” She stroked his cheeks. “I want to know.”
His chest was too tight to allow speech, his need to be close while also fighting it, consuming his thoughts and energy. “Uh…”
“Oh no, is it that bad?”
Fearing her tears, he found his voice. “No. I mean, it wasn’t great, but it happened a long time ago. My parents liked to fly. They went out and the weather turned to shit and… The crash happened fast, they didn’t suffer.”
Her eyes filled. “How old were you?”
“Eleven. Even then, I was independent and would have been fine on my own, but the state insisted I needed supervision. Since my relatives were spread far and wide with their own families to care for, they couldn’t take me in, so the agency placed me with a foster family.”
“Were they mean besides being unconcerned about your welfare?”
“They were hyena shifters.”
She gaped. “That doesn’t make sense if you’re a panther.”
“Tell me about it. However, the caseworker was mortal and didn’t understand or care about the distinction between species. To her, a shifter was a shifter, a para a para, which meant we should have loved each other and gotten along. Admittedly, it was a lousy match by anyone else’s standards, but beggars can’t be choosers. Although I did get food and shelter, they and their offspring never fully accepted me even though I did try to adapt and become like them. I eventually figured the parents were in it for the money since they took in other strays. No biggie. Some became my BFFs.” A lie, but he couldn’t tell her the entire truth. Instead, he smiled casually, dismissing those lonely times. “I’ve always been able to take care of myself.”
