The Cajun's Captive (Stormy Weather, Book One)

by Selena Blake

  “Get out of those wet clothes.”

  A look of surprise crossed her face that would have amused him had she not then glanced at the door as if to gauge how quickly she could get away from him.

  “So you don't catch cold. You're welcome to use my shower to warm up, chérie,” he said, letting his voice drop to a seductive low. Then he turned to leave. “But I can't promise I won't join you,” he said from the doorway.

  Sebastian closed the door behind Jules and himself and heard her yell after him.

  “You're a rat, Sebastian Deveraux.”

  Chapter Three

  Trembling, Amanda sank down onto the cold tile floor. She stared at the door Sebastian had just exited and wondered what she'd gotten herself into. He wasn't the same man she remembered. Gorgeous with a sensuality that should have been illegal, yes. But he was also angry. And if she could trust his words, possessive.

  He'd looked so predatory. Like the animal she'd always thought him to be. So much the same and yet different.

  Tall, dark, dangerously handsome. Deep brown eyes, jet black hair, and a tan from years in the sunny South. The small scar on his jaw added to his dangerous sex appeal.

  She tipped her head against the cabinet and let her mind drift back to a decade ago when she'd had a painful crush on Sebastian. She'd never let on though. When he wasn't treating her like a kid sister, he'd looked at her like she was the only woman he'd ever wanted. And when she wasn't daydreaming about him, she'd been as confused as hell by his sudden mood swings.

  He'd played hot and cold so often she'd felt like her head was spinning. So she'd moved away. Away from his reach, the temptation. Away from what she'd always known would be her destruction: love for a man who didn't love her back.

  She'd thrown herself into school and then into work. All the while, telling herself that she could get over him, that she was over him.

  And then she'd received that note.

  God help her, she'd convinced herself that there wouldn't be anything between them. No more chemistry, no more mushy insides when he smiled at her just so, no more aching in her heart when he showed off that protective side of his nature that she'd always loved.

  But he was more potent now than he'd ever been.

  What the hell had she been thinking, coming here?

  She hadn't been thinking. Not really. Just following her heart. Her heart that had stupidly been seduced by a gorgeous arrangement of flowers and a few words on a crisp linen card.

  She massaged her temples trying to ward off the impending headache. It didn't help. She was still cold and miserable.

  Steam rose above the glass doors of the shower, beckoning to her. Slowly, she stood up.

  He'd seemed positively shocked to find her on his property, she mused as she stripped out of her clothes. Angry about it. But surely, he expected to hear from her?

  “This can't be happening,” she whispered. Maybe she was dreaming. She pinched herself. Ouch. Definitely awake. Still in Sebastian Deveraux's enormous bathroom. Still shivering from cold and desire.

  He'd leaned close, too close for comfort, and stared into her eyes as if he could read all her secrets.

  She bit her lip, knowing he probably could. She stepped into the large tile shower and let the hot water rain down on her skin, driving away the cold. It made her want to moan with delight, but she didn't dare.

  She reached for the bottle of shampoo and inhaled the fresh refreshing scent of juniper and eucalyptus. It did little to calm the rapid pulse in her veins.

  Even after all this time, he could still make her tremble. She still yearned for his touch, was dying for his kiss; still craved the completion she'd secretly known that only he could bring.

  But the things she'd heard about him and his brothers were true. Softly spoken words carried on the winds. She’d known it. The reality of what she'd seen shouldn't have surprised her, but it made her tremble. She'd always had a gut feeling about him and his brothers and she always listened to her gut.

  Except for when it had told her to stay in Louisiana all those years ago. She couldn't end up like her mother. She wouldn't.

  And right now, her gut was telling her to get as far away from Sebastian as possible.

  Sebastian gave her exactly twenty minutes before he entered the bathroom again. He didn't bother to knock. It was, after all, his bathroom and she was after all, a trespasser. She squeaked in surprise and tightened the fluffy white towel around her wet body.

  “Privacy please!”

  He dropped his gaze to the pile of clothes heaped on the floor Knowing that the lacy bra and barely-there thong had been hugging her sweet body most of the day only fueled the flames inside him.

  “I thought you said I was da Big Bad Wolf, chérie. Now you call me a rat. Yes, I heard you,” he said when she raised her eyebrows. “Any other animals I remind you of?”

  Her chin came up and she stared at him with those crystal blue eyes. Her hair hung over her shoulder like honey colored waterfalls.

  “Non? Bien. Gumbo's ready.” He made for the door, scooping up her clothes and sandals as he went.

  “Sebastian!”

  “What is it, petite?”

  “Clothes?”

  “Ahh. I thought you might come to the table in da nude?”

  “You're out of your mind,” she told him hotly. Her fire fed his, but she didn't know that.

  “You won't always think dat. I assure you. There's a robe inside dat door.” He turned on the Cajun accent and charm because he knew she wouldn't be able to resist. You could take a girl out of da swamp, but you couldn't stop her from lovin’ a Cajun.

  “Thank you.”

  * * * * *

  Jules was transformed, dressed and sitting at the old pine table in the kitchen by the time Sebastian finished tossing Manda's clothes in the washer. If he had his say, she wouldn't be needing them for quite some time.

  Delicious aromas wafted from the stove: sausage and shrimp, rice and beans, and several spices. His stomach growled.

  “What the hell's she doin’ here?” Jules asked, curiosity and concern lacing his words. His hands clamped around a mug as Andre poured them all a fresh cup of coffee. There was electricity in the air that had nothing to do with the storm outside and everything to do with the woman under their roof.

  Years ago, they'd fought over her. Fought like the wolves they were. And in the end, none of them had won her. If everything went according to his plan, as quickly devised as it was, they'd have their Luna, and he'd have his mate.

  “Not sure yet. Probably snoopin' for a story,” Sebastian said.

  Jules’ brows furrowed. “You've got that look,” he said.

  Andre nodded.

  “What look?” Sebastian stirred the gumbo.

  “The ‘yer up to something' look.”

  “Yer right. I'm cookin'.”

  Jules just laughed and added another spoon to the table.

  “How's the hurricane?” Sebastian asked.

  “Cat 2. The dry air'll slow down winds. It's comin’ quick though.”

  Sebastian agreed with that. Third storm of the season and it was moving fast. Wind speed didn't concern him as much as the water, but there was a good chance it would pass them by.

  He heard the gentle footfalls before Manda poked her head around the corner. Her blonde hair was still damp and stringy. She gave him a tight-lipped smile and then glanced at his brothers.

  “Hi Jules, Andre. It's good to see you.”

  Jules looked her up and down with an appreciative glint in his eye. “You too.”

  What Andre had said about them all wanting her was true. Was true even now. Sebastian could smell their blood pumping through their veins.

  Her skin was free from the mud and grass, fresh and clean. She looked small and fragile in Sebastian's big black robe. In fact, it looked like she'd had to wrap it around her twice.

  He smiled. The knowledge that she was naked beneath the robe made his cock stir. He couldn't
help letting his gaze fall on the large wooden table between them, knowing it would easily support their weight. That he could push open the robe and feast his eyes on her body, trail his hands over her flesh, sink into her until they were both complete.

  “Um, do you have a first aid kit?”

  Her words pulled him from his lust-filled fantasy. She held out her hand, palm up. He could see a faint scratch.

  “I couldn't find one and--”

  Before she could finish her sentence, he crossed the room and took her hand in his. He felt her heartbeat race beneath his touch.

  “I'll get it,” Jules volunteered.

  Her silky smooth skin was cool, soft. It took all his control not to kiss her wrist. Trail his tongue along the delicate vein coursing just below her skin. Would she let him or would she snatch her hand back?

  Didn't matter. He enjoyed a good chase. He was, after all, a wolf in human clothing.

  “Here ya go.” Jules handed him the first aid kit.

  Sebastian directed Manda to a nearby chair and opened the white metal box. With a few swift movements, he applied ointment and a bandage, inwardly chanting to himself that soon she would be his.

  “The food smells good,” she said and pulled her hand from his grasp.

  She smelled good. Good enough to lick, nibble, and taste. He'd always thought she smelled of raspberries, but right now, she smelled fresh, like rain.

  Sebastian glanced at Jules. His eyes were stormy gray. Undoubtedly, he could smell her freshness too.

  “Let me serve it up, then,” Sebastian said quickly. He could feel Manda looking at him as he pulled the bowls off the shelf and began ladling out the gumbo. What was she thinking? Was she regretting her decision to trespass?

  “So, Sebastian says you're here to do a story on him,” Jules said, cocking his head to the side as he regarded her. Sebastian sat the bowl on the table in front of them and then stood back to watch.

  “He misunderstood. I'm not here to do a story on him. I wouldn't do that.”

  “Really?” Jules glanced at Sebastian before pegging her with another stare. “Even after he broke up with Carmen what's-her-name?”

  “Not even after he broke up with Carmen what's-her-name,” she said flatly and dipped into the gumbo.

  “He's still the most eligible bachelor in Louisiana, you know.”

  Jules would have made a great lawyer, Sebastian thought. He wasn't giving away anything that wasn't public knowledge or opinion, but he was definitely turning up the heat under Manda. He stifled a grin as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

  “Course, you probably knew that. Working at the Network and all. Bet it's easy to keep tabs on old friends.” He stretched out the last word.

  “What do you want me to say? I told you I'm not here to do a story on him.”

  “Are you here to do a story on me?” Jules asked. He wiggled his eyebrows and gave her that almost canine smile Sebastian knew most women found charming. He wasn’t pleased to see her frown turn into the slightest of smiles.

  “Why would I do a story on you?” she asked.

  Jules leaned across the table, his polo shirt outlining his muscular build.

  “Because, chérie. I'm the second most eligible bachelor in Louisiana.”

  The wolf inside demanded Sebastian claim her as his and right now, but he mentally tightened the leash. He didn’t want to scare her. He wanted her screaming with pleasure, not fear.

  Amanda drowned in sensations. Sebastian stood close by, his presence unnerving, and Jules looked as if he wanted to eat her. He was just as breath-stealingly handsome as his brothers. Jet-black hair that glistened in the overhead light...piercing eyes so dark she could be staring into the night sky...tanned skin stretched over hard muscles. It was enough to make a girl drool.

  She forced down a spoon full of gumbo. The flavors exploded on her tongue. It was better than anything she'd ever tasted in New York. The heat and texture combined to do a little Cajun dance in her mouth and she wanted to groan, but she wasn't about to give Sebastian the satisfaction.

  So the man could cook. Big deal. Why couldn't she have found a man in New York who could cook? Weren't there a billion chefs in New York City?

  “Sorry. I'm not here for you.” She tried to regain control but the words came out wrong.

  “So you're here for him?” Jules asked not missing a beat.

  “Nope.” She forced herself to meet his gaze. “Ever thought about a career in journalism? You've got the interrogation part down pat.”

  “Somehow, I don't think that was a compliment.”

  “It wasn't.”

  “Why are you here?” Sebastian asked. His voice was deep, heavenly.

  Amanda looked at him and her breath faltered. He was leaning against the counter, his legs crossed at the ankles, a bowl of gumbo in his strong hands.

  Was he really so clueless? It didn't matter. She just needed to get out of here pronto, and figure out what she was going to do with herself for the rest of her life, now that she knew time and distance wouldn’t change her feelings for this man.

  He stepped forward, gazing down at her with probing eyes. She found it hard to formulate an excuse and decided the truth was her best bet.

  “I got the flowers. Thank you,” she said and turned back to her own bowl. Chill bumps broke out over her skin as they always did when Sebastian was near. Her nipples began to harden into little peaks. She couldn't help staring at his fingers, wondering what they would feel like on her skin.

  “Flowers?” Jules and Andre echoed in unison.

  She nodded. “At my father's funeral. They were beautiful.”

  “Funeral?” Sebastian asked. He sounded puzzled.

  Unease settled over her and she frowned up at him.

  “Yes, Sebastian, the flowers you sent. Last week, after my father died.” She emphasized his name.

  “You sent her flowers?” Andre asked, looking pleased.

  “I have the note in my car. I thought--” she broke off. Oh, it didn't matter what she thought. Obviously, she'd been wrong. Again. Just like she had all those years ago. Only last time, she’d had the proof of how foolish her thoughts from his own mouth.

  His secretary had probably sent the stupid flowers.

  “What did you think?” Sebastian’s tone was quiet and seductive.

  She fumed. So he was still playing games. “Are my clothes ready? I really need to go. I have a plane to catch.”

  “They're in the wash. You're not going anywhere.”

  His tone had changed to one full of authority, only adding to her rising irritation. The perfect example of hot and cold.

  Why the hell had she even come back here? She could have just sent a thank you card. Honestly, what had she expected? Him to throw open his front door, get down on his knees and profess his undying love for her? Admit his stupidity at letting her go in the first place, and then for not coming after her for nine years?

  Hah. Like that was going to happen.

  Gathering her wits, she stood and smiled at Jules and Andre. Good gracious, they were handsome. Much more so than she remembered.

  “Thanks for the gumbo. It was good to see you two again.” She straightened her spine and turned to look at Sebastian. “You'll understand if I have your robe sent to you.”

  With that, she turned and fled the kitchen. She ran across the pine floors toward the front door. She had to find her keys. Clutching the robe around her, she reached for the doorknob.

  Strong arms wrapped around her waist and hoisted her into the air.

  “Put me down!”

  “Not gonna happen, chѐrie.”

  “Put me down this instant, Sebastian.” Her voice was full of heat and censure.

  He slung her over his shoulder enjoying the feel of her small squirming body. He knew he shouldn't get so excited by her helpless struggles, but he couldn't help himself. She beat her small fists against his back as if that would make a difference.

  He laughed an
d nipped at the flesh of her hip. “Not on your life, sweetheart. We've gotta get on the road.”

  “The road?”

  “Oui. Hurricane's a comin’. Gotta get the camp ready. Don't want any broken windows.” He knew he could've had his cousin Burke do the job. Heck, even Jules could've done it. But doing it himself meant being alone with Manda. In the middle of nowhere. Where she couldn't get away. Where she'd have to come clean.