by Tami Lund
“Attacked,” she croaked. Her throat burned and it hurt to talk.
He gently held her at arm’s length. The moment he saw the bruising on her neck, his face clouded with fury. “How? Who did this? What the hell happened?”
She shook her head. She couldn’t tell him. He would never forgive her. She had thought, had hoped, the authorities would take care of her problem for her. Now she wasn’t so certain. Pantera was the most frightening person she had ever encountered, and she’d experienced some rather unpleasant stuff in her life as a foster kid.
“I went back to my apartment.”
“Why? I told you never to go back there alone. What the hell were you thinking? And—and why are you wearing a maid’s uniform?” Josh squinted at the nametag pinned to her chest. “Is that—is this from my hotel?” He sounded utterly baffled. Rachel nodded, tears pricking her eyes.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. These last few weeks of happiness were unraveling before her eyes. She didn’t know how to make it better, didn’t know what to say, how to convince Josh that, despite everything, she loved him, more than anything.
“For what?”
She disentangled herself from his arms and wandered over to the sliding glass doors leading out to a deck overlooking the private lake and the forest beyond. All of it was Josh’s. A world she could never—would never—be part of. Not fully.
“I lied to you, Josh.”
The tension in the air was so thick, she wasn’t sure she could even walk through it, should she dare to get close to him again.
“I think you need to explain.”
She continued to look through the glass door. “I work at your hotel. As a maid. Obviously.” She waved at her person. “My fulltime job barely covers rent and food and utilities. I had to take a second job just to be able to buy a pair of shoes once in a while. I’ve worked at your hotel for about a year now.”
She paused, but when he remained silent, she continued. “I didn’t know you were the GM when I first met you. But obviously I figured it out, when I came to visit you, after our first night together.” She dared a glance over her shoulder. A tic worked in his jaw, but otherwise, he had a blank look on his face.
“I didn’t think you would continue sleeping with me if you knew.”
“Goddamn it, Rachel.” In a flash, he was across the room, standing behind her, his arms wrapped around her, holding her to him, like he never intended to let her go. She sank into his heat, closed her eyes, and allowed herself to feel grateful he wasn’t angry.
“I thought you knew me better than that. I don’t care about your background—other than to wish it hadn’t played out the way it had. Knowing you have two jobs does not make me respect you any less. If anything, I have even more appreciation for the person you are.”
You would hate me if you knew who I really am.
“I love you, Josh.” The words tumbled out of her mouth, sounding garbled thanks to the injury to her throat. She didn’t take them back. They were true. She loved him with every fiber of her being, even that part of her that refused to confide her relationship with Pantera, because she was afraid he would not love her back. “I love you so much.”
Josh shushed her. “I know. Now stop talking. I’m sure it hurts. Stay here, and I’ll go get you some painkillers and ice. Do you want to see a healer?”
Like she’d done a dozen times since they met, she wondered at the quirky words he used to describe everyday things like spouses and doctors and children. “No, I’m fine. I will be, anyway.” She offered a wan smile.
He gently pushed her into a chair situated near the glass doors and then disappeared into the bathroom. She stood and went into the walk-in closet, shedding her maid’s uniform and replacing it with a pair of yoga pants and a T-shirt. As she had now blown off her shift without even calling in sick, she doubted she would ever need it again. Or maybe the general manager would vouch for her. The thought caused irrational laughter to bubble up in her throat.
She left the closet and curled up on the bed. When Josh stood in front of her again, he held a couple pills in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. She gratefully accepted both.
“Lay back,” he instructed. After she obeyed his command, he placed an ice pack wrapped in a washcloth on her neck. She closed her eyes and let out a small sigh of relief.
“Do you know who did it?” he asked gently.
She shook her head. She was not about to tell him who hurt her. He was the type to go after whoever it was, and that was the very last thing she needed right now. She tugged on his shirtsleeve, silently asking him to join her on the bed. He smiled and complied, kicking off his shoes and sliding onto the comforter next to her, pulling her into his arms and holding her more gently than she ever recalled being held before.
“I’m not letting you go back there,” he warned.
Rachel sighed as she laid her head on his chest. There was nowhere else she wanted to be at the moment. Well, that wasn’t entirely true, she thought as her hand slipped under the hem of his shirt and smoothed over his muscled abdomen and up to his chest. She trailed her hand down, slowly, to the waistband of his jeans, and then inched her fingertips beneath the denim and traced the contours of his muscles before wrapping her arms around his back and clinging to him for a moment.
She wanted him inside her. She wanted to connect with him, to couple with him. She wanted it to feel like when they’d slipped away while everyone else had been cleaning up the Bears’ fire damaged home, and he’d taken her from behind. He’d been so intense, so serious, so... focused. She had been the center of his world for those few moments, and she’d loved it.
He groaned, and she pulled back her focus and realized she was gently massaging his erection through his jeans. He covered her hand with his own.
“Are you too hurt?” he asked. She shook her head. He blew out a breath. “Good.” He rolled over on top of her and she sank back into the soft bed.
He kissed the bruises with aching gentleness. Rachel lifted her chin and blinked tears from her eyes. She so did not deserve this man, yet she did not want to let him go.
He pulled the T-shirt over her head and unhooked her bra before cupping her breasts and kissing each one in turn. She squirmed and grabbed the waistband of his jeans, trying to unbutton them and tug at the zipper at the same time.
“Please,” she said, gasping.
He shushed her again. “Don’t speak, sweetheart. I don’t want you to hurt yourself further.”
She impatiently wiggled out of her pants. Josh chuckled.
“In a hurry?”
She nodded. He smiled. “I plan to take my time.”
She gave him a cross look and he laughed. Then she deliberately rolled over onto her stomach and thrust her ass into the air. She heard his sharp intake of breath and knew he’d changed his tone. His hand smoothed over her bare ass and she closed her eyes as she rested her cheek against the soft comforter.
“Mine,” he whispered, and then he was behind her. She heard the snick of the zipper on his jeans, the shuffle of material as he pushed them down over his hips. He grasped her hips and lifted them, spreading her thighs at the same time.
Yessss.
He thrust into her, filling her so completely she let out an involuntary cry of desire. God, he felt so good. Especially this way. She’d never minded doggy-style before, but for some reason, with Josh, she craved it. If they did it this way every single time, she doubted she’d ever get bored. It felt so damn good.
“Mine.” His voice was a growl. He pumped into her, again and again. She liked his sense of possession, antiquated as it might be. It made her feel special. Desired. Needed. She gasped when her orgasm overcame her, suddenly and unexpectedly. Josh pressed into her with more fervor until a few moments later, he followed her over the edge, and then collapsed next to her, breathing heavily.
“Why is that so damn awesome, every single time?” she asked.
He grabbed her hand, twined th
eir fingers together. “Because it means we are a couple. We are a pair, matched.”
“Mated?” He turned his head, gave her a questioning look. She shrugged. “You’ve said that word before. Mated. Like you said, a couple. We fit together. Really well, despite the fact that you’re kinda big and I’m, well, not.”
“We do.” While she’d tried to keep her tone light, he was one hundred percent serious. But before she could tease him about it, the sound of the doorbell echoed faintly through the room. Josh glanced at the clock on the bedside table and swore, surging out of bed and tugging his jeans back over his hips.
“I forgot. I have a meeting. I have to go downstairs. Stay here. Rest. Don’t leave without telling me first, do you understand me?”
Rachel yawned. “Actually, I think staying here sounds like a marvelous idea.” And then she lay her head on the pillow and closed her eyes. For the moment, at least, she was safe.
Chapter 14
Brendon Wulfe was an amazing tracker. Josh’s pack had, for as long as Josh has been alive, been relatively stable, mostly issue-free, so Brendon’s gift went largely under-utilized. He was summoned when the occasional pup went missing and when someone was afraid of home or land invaders. But otherwise, he practiced his skills by stalking and hunting small prey out in the wild, and he occasionally anonymously helped out the human authorities just for kicks.
Josh suspected he was currently in his element, helping his pack master and friend—he, Josh, and Matt had all grown up together—track down a renegade shifter. Brendon had never been a fan of Kent Pantera, with his fucked-up views of humans and other magical species. Plus, Pantera’s deceased mate had been a friend of Brendon’s mother, and he’d never truly been satisfied with the manner of her death and the fact it had been declared an accident. They’d been twenty-two and drunk on tequila when Brendon confided in Josh that he suspected Pantera had killed his own mate, and that he’d told Josh’s father, but the pack master hadn’t wanted to listen to a fifteen-year-old kid who had a reputation for being something of a rebel.
Matt wasn’t the only one who believed in conspiracy theories, apparently.
“The bad news is, I think he spotted Cal when he relieved me this morning.” Brendon paced the home office space, as if he couldn’t stand to sit still while he gave his report.
“Why do you say that?” Josh had assigned Brendon and Cal to watch Pantera twenty-four-seven, under the assumption that they were his two best trackers, and would not let him down.
“Cal lost him this afternoon. He said it was deliberate.”
“Shit. He figured out I’m watching him.”
Brendon nodded. “That would be my guess, too. I picked him up again about an hour ago. Spotted him driving over by that old mall, coming from a pretty rough part of town.”
Josh had been idly twirling a pencil between his fingers. The pencil froze. “Where, precisely?”
Brendon described an area that sounded uncomfortably like Rachel’s neighborhood.
“Who is on him now?”
“Jeremy. Cal’s staking out his office. Maybe if he stays in one place he can keep from being detected.” There was obvious disgust in Brendon’s voice. He did not take failure lightly.
Josh abruptly stood. “Come on. I want you to show me exactly where you saw him.” Brendon shrugged as he followed Josh out into the front foyer. “Wait here. I need to check on something first.” He raced up the stairs to check on a sleeping Rachel, and returned a moment later. “Let’s go.”
Brendon drove, retracing the precise path he’d seen Pantera take earlier in the day. Josh’s nerves tensed more and more with each mile they drove. Finally, Brendon pulled the Escalade into the parking lot of an old, worn out apartment complex, and shifted the gear into park.
“This is it. He went in there—”
Josh was already scrambling out of the passenger seat. “Let’s go.” Brendon killed the engine and followed.
Hardly a minute later, they stood in the tiny living room of Rachel’s apartment. A bag lay on the carpet, clothing he recognized strewn across the worn fibers. The scent of human—and shifter—was heavy in the air.
“Do you smell that?” Josh’s voice was a growl.
“Yeah,” Brendon acknowledged. “Fear. Big time. Human fear. Whoever was here last was pretty fucking scared. And a neat freak. I smell bleach. And shifter.”
“Pantera,” Josh said. And him. His own scent would be strong here, so he did not allow Brendon to go any further into the apartment. Now was not the time to explain to his pack mate that not only was he in love with a human, but she was his mate, too.
Besides, he couldn’t even focus on that at the moment. Pantera had been here, in Rachel’s apartment. That stench of fear was hers. Those bruises on her neck... Josh closed his eyes as the emotions swamped him.
Pantera knew about her, knew who she was, knew what she meant to Josh. He had to. Why else would he have come here and attacked her? It was a mark of how damn strong she was that she’d managed to get away. He shook his head, unable to even think the unthinkable...
What if she hadn’t gotten away?
“Let’s go,” he said brusquely, as he strode toward the hall.
When they returned to the mansion, he sent Brendon to track down Matt, Cal, and Jeremy and bring them all to Josh’s home for a meeting in one hour. Then he went inside and hurried upstairs, needing to see for himself that Rachel was okay, that she was still alive. Even though the attack had happened hours ago, and he’d since coupled with her, and he’d left her in his bed sleeping when he and Brendon went to her apartment, he still needed proof she was safe.
The bed was empty.
For the space of two heartbeats, his breathing stopped as he let his worst fear wash over him. But then he heard the sound of running water, caught a whiff of her scent, and forced himself to relax. She was here. She was okay.
And she was naked, in the shower. He strode toward the attached bathroom. He was naked before he reached the door.
When he opened the bathroom door, steam billowed out at him. His woman liked her showers blistering hot. He smiled as he padded into the room. He planned to make this shower extra hot. The need to couple with her ran thick in his blood. It was a natural instinct when a shifter’s mate was threatened. It was the way shifters reconnected, reassured themselves that their mate was indeed okay.
She gave him a startled look when he opened the glass door and stepped into the stall. Her hair was a soapy pile on her head, and she had obviously been in the middle of washing it.
“Let me,” he said, and he stepped under the spray and threaded his hands into the slippery, silky strands. She closed her eyes and sighed as he massaged her scalp.
“Nice nap?” he asked. She nodded.
He wanted to ask more questions—such as, “Describe the asshole who attacked you.” Or “What the hell was he doing in your apartment?” But he refrained. He doubted her throat had healed much over the course of the last few hours. He wished Tanner’s healer were still here. Alexa could probably heal Rachel without her even knowing, and then Josh could question her about her experience with Kent and not feel guilty about it.
Instead, he washed her hair, and then washed her body, paying special attention to his favorite parts. And when she panted with need, he turned her around so she faced the wall. She grasped the towel bar, and he bent his knees and took her shifter-style, once again. Confirming their connection. Assuring himself she was not only perfectly fine, but was also his. Would always be his.
When they were both sated, he quickly washed himself and then they both stepped out of the shower and dried off. Rachel wrapped herself in his robe, which was ridiculously big on her, while Josh pulled his clothing back on.
“We need to talk,” he said, once they were both in the bedroom. “Well, I need to talk to you,” he amended. “I have a meeting in a little while, with some guys from my pack—er—association—that I trust explicitly. I am going to tell them
about you, about us. About your importance to me.” He held up his hand to stave off whatever she intended to say.
“Don’t talk. You need to heal. Just listen. I’m afraid you’re in danger, and the idea of anything happening to you...” He let the sentence hang in the air between them. He didn’t need to finish it. “I’m going to assign you a guard. If you aren’t with me, you’re going to be with one of them.”
This time she did try to protest, but he shook his head.
“Don’t argue with me, Rachel. I know Pantera was in your apartment.” Her eyes grew wide as saucers. “He’s the one who did this, isn’t he?” He tried to sound gentle, but he doubted he succeeded. He didn’t want to scare her, but he needed her to understand she was dealing with someone far more powerful than any human she had ever encountered.
Without actually telling her, of course.
“I told you he’s been after my position since my grandfather held it. My mistake was failing to realize to what extent he would go to get it. No more. I will protect what’s mine. He won’t take anyone else from me. I’ll kill him first.”
“Who—who has he taken from you already?” Her words were whispered, her fear a living thing.
“My parents. Matt has always maintained Pantera was behind their accident, but I refused to believe it. To believe such a thing has unimaginable implications within our—ah—association. It’s like—like killing the president. Seriously. It’s about the worst thing a member could do.”
She didn’t say anything, but the look on her face spoke volumes. He hoped to hell this didn’t scare her away. He couldn’t bear it if she left him right now. He needed her. More than anything else in his life, he needed Rachel by his side.
“I’m not taking any more chances with anyone I love. That pretty much entails you. Got it?”
