by Em Ashcroft
Sitting next to her, Renaud shook his head. “It wasn’t Chester. It was you.”
“Pardon me?”
Renaud smiled and covered her hand with his, infusing her with more than warmth. A prickly heat invaded her, one she tried hard to quell. Had she turned into a nymphomaniac overnight? “You called us out of the blue. As far as we were concerned, it was a cold call. We didn’t know Chester Rayburn. He might have attended a wedding here, but we have a lot of those. But we liked you. And we had an unexpected gap in the schedule, so why not?”
“Me?”
“We loved what you had to say, and we liked the promotional materials you sent to us. We showed the board since a meeting was due. We agreed you were worth trying. We liked the way you communicated with us, and then you called us. And Blade and I really liked that.”
Thea swallowed. “Oh.” Nobody sat within sight of their booth, which suddenly seemed way too small. Reaching for her coffee cup, she found it empty. She’d drunk it. “Thanks.”
When she tried to pull her hand away, he gripped it. If she made a point of it, she could get away, but that would mean a tussle. She trusted Renaud. It was just—just that she didn’t know what to do. He was Blade’s breed partner. Shape-shifters shared their women. Surely this man didn’t mean…
He did. Closing the inches that lay between their mouths, he kissed her. The press of his mouth on hers, so strong and firm, caused her to open her mouth, and he swept inside, taking control.
A river of French poured into her mind, caressing her. It didn’t matter that she didn’t understand it, the tone and the passion infusing every word was enough to tell her that he wanted her. He tasted spicier than Blade, a little harder, but just as enticing and dangerous.
Forgetting everything except the man kissing her, Thea responded, her instincts taking over. The seat creaked as he moved closer, slipping his arm around her shoulders.
“Refill?”
When she tore herself away, her cheeks heating to what she was sure must be boiling point, a woman stood over them, holding a carafe.
Renaud, not in the least put out, nodded. “That would be nice.”
When she had gone, Thea buried her head in her hands. “What the fuck am I doing?”
He moved away, giving her some space. “It’s not just you, ma chérie. It’s us. If you kissed anyone else the way you just responded to me, Blade would go after them. But not us. We’re breed partners, and more than that, we’re best friends. When he asked me to look after you while he was gone, it was in full knowledge of what might happen between us. He already knows I’m deeply attracted to you.”
Sighing, he reached for her hand. She shook him off. This was driving her crazy.
“If you don’t want me, or if you truly want me to back off, then I will,” he said quietly. “Otherwise, I want to explore this thing. But believe me, I do not intrude where I’m not wanted.”
“It’s me.” Helplessly, she dropped her hands and turned her head to meet his eyes. The blazing desire in them wasn’t something she could ignore, but her own reaction? What was that? “How can I be so attracted to both of you? How does this happen?”
“It happens a lot. I’m guessing you haven’t met many shape-shifters before now. Not this closely, anyhow. Am I right?”
Swallowing, she nodded.
“It’s normal for us to feel attraction for the same woman. But unlike humans, we see that as normal. Abnormal is when only one of a breeding pair is attracted to a woman. That happens, too, but rarely. We have to learn to cope with that situation, especially if the woman wants babies.”
She shuddered.
As if instinctively, he reached for her but dropped his hand on the table. “You can tell me to keep away, or you can accept what’s happening between us and see where it goes.”
The situation sounded so…mundane to him. He was talking about it as if it happened every day. But it didn’t, not to her. “I don’t get it. I’ve never…wanted two men like this. Oh, sure, I’ve admired attractive men while I’ve been committed to another. But I’d never do anything about it. But this…” She spread her hands.
Moving quickly, he pushed his brimming coffee cup out of her way. “Don’t overthink it. If it happens, that’s okay. If you don’t want it to, that’s okay, as well.” But from the way his lips tightened, she guessed he was putting a good face on it.
But it relieved her to hear that the decision was hers to make. She trusted both men. More than trusted, as it happened. But wow, this was happening so fast, and her emotions were already so deeply involved that she wasn’t sure how to cope with everything.
“How does it happen?”
His smile warmed her. “You’ll see. If it does. Don’t forget this.” He tapped his temple. “I can tell if you’re giving me ‘stay away’ signals. Like I said, don’t overthink it. Fuck, you have more than enough to think about right now.” He took a sip of his drink. “Come on, drink up and I’ll take you back.”
She did as he said in a daze.
Back at the ranch, they crossed the entrance lobby to the echo of raucous laughter coming from the bar. Ladonna, resplendent in her wedding gown, her hair and makeup firmly in place, just as they’d practiced, held up a champagne glass. She was already halfway there, toasting the bridesmaids, who sat like a bunch of gaudy flowers around the table.
“Hey, Thea, come and have a drink, and bring your gorgeous friend! I’m free and single again, so we’re celebrating!” She blinked at Thea. “Are you coming to the party like that?”
A few people turned to stare. Thea was on the brink of telling her she wasn’t coming at all, but Renaud took her elbow. “Come on, ma chérie. Let’s get you ready.”
They left to a few wolf-whistles. Obviously the bar tab would be serious by the time they’d done.
Renaud propelled her toward the arched entrance to the spa. “We’ll get you looked after here. You are going to wow them in that dress.”
“I don’t think I can go.”
Despite her protests, he firmly guided her through the glass doors and into the warm, scented atmosphere of the hotel spa. In a few words he explained the situation to the woman behind the counter. In no time at all, Thea was being pampered to within an inch of her life.
Chapter Eight
After a quick call to his breed partner, Renaud headed for the bar, prepared to slay demons for Thea. At this rate the occupants would all be dead drunk by the time the reception began.
Ladonna and her bridesmaids sat in state around one table, a bedraggled bunch of flowers. Most likely they hadn’t changed since this morning. Strands of hair hung down, and bits of tulle lay on the floor, together with the glitter that made the cleaning staff grit their teeth. He should get this carpet replaced with a hard surface. Otherwise, the carpet would start to grate when people trod on it. Too much glitter. Too many weddings.
When the weddings had begun to take off, the board had decided to go with it. They should have a rethink, restrict the number of ceremonies held here. That would help with the exclusivity angle, too.
And less glitter. Maybe they could ban the stuff, except in certain areas.
His mind working, as it always did, along business lines, Renaud made a little cross with his forefingers at the bar steward, who nodded. No more alcohol for the bride and her attendants until further notice. Until they sobered up some.
Preparing himself for assault, he set his feet toward their table, straightening his jacket and pasting a smile on his face. “Good afternoon, ladies.”
“Hi. Come to help us celebrate?”
“Of course.” Putting his suit in peril, Renaud accepted a brimming glass of champagne. It was better in his stomach than in the women, who would not make the party if they didn’t slow down. With two hours to the opening of the ballroom, most would be asleep in their dinner.
That gave him an idea. “Drink up, ladies. I’m taking you to dinner.”
Thankfully, they accepted. The change of venue
from the bar to the dining room meant Renaud could have a word with the wine waiter. “As little alcohol as possible without making it obvious,” he instructed the man, who went to get the low alcohol fizzy wines they kept on hand for exactly these situations. He could see the man cringing as he went off. It had taken Sikander, who took charge of the cellar, a very long time and a juicy bonus to agree to stock them, but it had paid off. The fizz was still celebratory but barely affected the drinkers at all. It had saved them a bundle in smashed glasses and cleaning bills, as well.
Renaud went into hotelier mode, urging the ladies to go for the heavier dishes. Anything to soak up the alcohol. He flirted outrageously and sent Sikander a telepathic message. Come join us? But the bastard refused to reply. So Renaud had them to himself.
Five bridesmaids and a bride, in different shades of pink, lilac, and stark white, their gowns huge enough to please the Empress Eugenie herself. Renaud resigned his suit to the cleaner after five minutes squashed against the glitter-bedecked skirts.
“Designer,” the bride loftily informed him, but she didn’t say which one. Renaud decided he’d rather not know.
“We need pictures,” she said. “Where’s that video artist when you need him?”
After the first course, the women were coming down from their alcohol highs, but that didn’t stop them flirting with him. He could have used a little less hands-on at this stage.
“Thea has arranged everything so well,” the quietest bridesmaid commented, sipping delicately from her water glass. “She’s a star.”
“Oh yes,” Ladonna agreed, somewhat too enthusiastically. “And we’re all good now. At first I thought she’d refuse to have anything to do with us, but my fiancé brought her around.” She gave a heavy, theatrical sigh that sent her half-exposed breasts quivering. “I can’t believe he did this to me. I guess he got wedding nerves.” Brightly, she propped her chin on her hand. “Have you heard from your breedmate?”
“Breed partner,” Renaud corrected her. “A breedmate is the woman we marry.” And more, if truth be told. A breedmate was a mother.
“Lucky woman. How does that work, exactly?”
What he’d found charming in her sister, Renaud discovered was prurience in Ladonna. She wanted to know, and he suspected he’d be the subject of giggles and chatter around the wine bars of the city. “That depends on the trio,” he said, keeping the details deliberately vague. If Ladonna discovered herself the center of the world of two shape-shifters, then she’d discover what happened.
“I mean, do they share a bed? All three?”
He shrugged and lifted his wineglass, taking a sip of the contents. On the whole, he agreed with his wine waiter. This stuff was vile. Perhaps they should drop it altogether and move to mocktails. Employ a couple of cocktail waiters who could do the non-alcoholic drinks, too. Frilly drinks, he tended to think of them. What was wrong with a good aged brandy or a vintage burgundy? Nuit St. Georges was the nearest to cocktail he ever got to by choice.
The women were knocking the stuff back, though.
Ladonna giggled. “Maybe we should hang around here. We could all snag ourselves shape-shifters.” She leaned forward in a confiding way. “Does Dot fuck both of you?”
He’d had enough. While he wished for that to happen, he couldn’t see what business that was of hers. He longed to give her a put-down, but his compassion got in the way. Ladonna had had enough for one day. For all he knew, this behavior could be untypical, though somehow he doubted it. “Why do you call her Dot?”
Ladonna raised her brows. “Everybody does. She was Dot when I was little, and we all thought it was cute.”
So the nickname was more about Ladonna than it was about Thea. “She seems to have moved to Thea.”
Ladonna dismissed the notion with a vague wave that slopped some wine out of her glass. The bridesmaids laughed.
“It’s a thing,” one of them said. “She’ll go back to her real name soon.” She sounded confident enough for it to be true, but it wasn’t.
Renaud had reason to know that she thought of herself as Thea. She probably always had. Calling her by a name she disliked was another way of putting her down.
Had her sister always done that? From the unearned view Thea had of herself, Renaud knew it was. Thea ran the wedding business, she was incredibly sexy, and she still spared time for her family.
As Ladonna began a string of anecdotes about her childhood, and their subsequent lives, Renaud’s thoughts grew grimmer. There was no fucking way he wanted Thea to return to her previous life, to doing all the work and getting none of the credit. He saw his role in a different way now. He had no problem with considering long-term effects of a relationship, and Thea turned him on like nobody else had for a very long time. She also trusted him with her inner thoughts, and for someone as locked-down and introvert as her, that was major.
He wanted to keep her here after Tuesday. Maybe even permanently.
* * * *
Thea stared at herself in the mirror. She’d expected to see somebody who wasn’t at all like herself, a manufactured, made-up-and-coiffured reconstruction of the Thea she was familiar with. Nothing could have been further from the truth.
The stylist hadn’t tried to minimize Thea’s generous shape—she’d worked it. The rich blue gown Thea hadn’t been able to resist clung lovingly to her breasts, waist, and ass, but not in a way that forced people to look. Instead, it invited them. The skirts flared out to pool around her feet, and her shoes had manageable three-inch heels that still made her feel classy. Her makeup was understated, except for the smoky eyeshadow. Her eyeliner had the perfect cat-eye flick. If she tried that for herself, she’d have given herself two black eyes, but the artist had taken her through the process. Thea might even have a go at the look herself sometime, especially with the help of a blog the woman had referred her to.
Her hair was still hers, but…better. The waves remained, but they fell over her shoulders in smooth, frizz-less perfection. Nobody would know they were sprayed into perfection. And she wore sapphires or, rather, blue bling. Each drop was cut like a teardrop and topped with tiny green crystal bows. Her earrings matched, something that rarely happened with her. Either Ladonna had snagged them or Thea couldn’t find them in the jumble that was her jewelry box.
She even had a wrap to match the gown, the same stiff taffeta silk, lined with soft green silk that kissed her skin like a wave of oiled water.
Renaud waited for her outside the spa. “Hey,” he said, his dark voice intimately soft. “You look gorgeous. There’s only one thing I don’t like.”
“What’s that?” Startled, she opened her eyes wider and looked around for a mirror.
“That lipstick. It means I can’t kiss you.”
“Oh. The stylist said this was kiss proof.” She grazed her lips with two fingers and held them up for him. “See?”
Only when he growled low did she realize what he’d just done. By then she was in his arms and being kissed with a ruthlessness that made her gasp.
Let’s put it to the test, then.
And they did. Oh fuck, did they ever. Curling her hand around his neck, she threaded her fingers through the short hairs there, tickling his skin with her newly painted nails. He opened his hand against her bare back, his palm making direct contact with her pampered skin. An arc of sensation shocked her into pressing closer, opening her mouth, and tasting him. Their tongues danced, twined, and teased as he touched her mind and let her see his reaction to her.
Passion simmered at boiling point, as if he’d leashed his emotions right up to now. But determination threaded through his desire, and it was all for her. Before, he’d only hinted at his need for her, but now she felt it. His cock pressed through the confines of their clothing, hard and ready. Her pussy leaked wetness onto the crotch of her skimpy thong, apart from her lacy stockings the only underwear she had on.
Fuck, did you have to tell me that?
I didn’t know I had.
Speaking to Renaud telepathically came as easily as it did with Blade. But it felt different. Blade surrounded her with protection and care. Renaud ripped through her defenses, barely asking for permission before he flattened everything in his path. This man was a hurricane, and his tiger was closer. She could almost see the animal prowling around her, waiting to close in.
He finished their kiss surprisingly softly, adding a small touch of his lips to hers. “Don’t worry. I can control him.”
“Your tiger?”
“Oui. I have fought with him in the past, and we are still together.”
She smiled at his whimsy.
“I’m impressed. Whatever lipstick you have on, it’s still there.”
She swept her gaze over his face. “And you don’t have lipstick all over your face.”
“Good to know.”
Releasing her slowly, he stepped back. Instead of offering his arm, he reached for her and clasped her hand.
“You look great,” she said. He must have found the time to change because he now wore a tailored tuxedo. A dark red bow tie took the place of the strip of gray silk he’d had on earlier.
“You look sensational.”
“Thank you.” She bit her lip. “I should have checked on the ballroom, but they said you’d promised to do it.”
“I looked in. They’ve removed all the wedding paraphernalia. The chef even converted the wedding cake. It’s not tiered any more, and it doesn’t have a bride and groom on the top.”
“Thank goodness. Ladonna must be torn up.”
His mouth tightened. “I wouldn’t say that. I bought them dinner. Ladonna and her attendants seem to be in good spirits.”
“She can put a good face on things. She’s always been able to do that.” What had put that frown between his brows? “Surely you want Ladonna to face people without bursting into tears?”
