by Susan Arden
He laughed. “Two boxes.” He took the top of the box from her hands and she removed the smaller one inside.
“Do you mind?” She handed him the bottom of the aqua box. Her fingers continued to tremble, making opening the velvet box a heart-pounding endeavor. She held the box in front of her, staring down at a huge marquis-shaped diamond engagement ring.
“You’ll wear it?” he asked.
“My goodness, you certainly know how to surprise me.” Running her finger over the metal and stone to see if this was a dream, she nodded. Her finger met the hard surfaces nestled in a satiny material.
“It’s five and a half carats. I thought the shape suited your nature. Like a cat-eye. If it’s not what you want, we can exchange the ring for anything you’d like. Baby?”
“It’s perfect, Shawn, just like our love. I wouldn’t trade it for the world.” She threw her arms around his shoulders, burying her face against his chest.
He kissed the top of her head, cradling her next to him for a beat. All of sudden he pulled her back, his intense eyes filled with emotion as well as his ever-present possessiveness. Shawn lifted the ring out of the box. The diamond glittered fire and brilliance; even with tears blurring her vision, the ring was dazzling. “Give me your finger, then. Let’s see if this little monster fits.” He removed the ring — really, it was the most gorgeous ring she’d ever seen — and he placed it on her finger.
“Perfect fit,” she murmured, as Shawn pulled her into another fierce embrace.
“Damn right,” he said, before he kissed her, making her toes curl and her breath leave her body.
This was the moment that said it all. No more pretense — she’d found the mate who would come for and claim her. She loved him with as much fierceness and ferocity as he’d displayed. Nothing would keep her from claiming him, either.
“The ring is magnificent.” She held her hand out to the side, so they both could see how the ring was displayed on her finger.
“Tonight we’ll celebrate. But now we’ve got a check-in for the ceremony. There’s a staging event where they’ll show the nominees where to sit and get to the stage.”
“I missed that memo,” she said, sighing, wishing to stay in the hotel room and relish this moment.
The knock on the door interrupted their interlude. “That would be Santo. I told him to give us a few minutes before coming upstairs.”
“I want to change. Do I have time?”
“You look beautiful, but I won’t argue. There’s not a specific schedule. Only a block of time. So, yes, but make it quick.”
Within twenty minutes she was showered and changed into a business suit, her hair swept back in a chignon, and she clasped a small portfolio. He whistled from the living room as she entered into the foyer.
“I’m ready if you are.”
“I’m ready for you. I can’t wait to get you back here and show you what engagement sex is all about.”
“I can hardly wait. Anything you find alluring has to be mind-blowing.”
“I guarantee it, where you’re concerned.”
Santo waited outside with the car and she noticed that Fin was seated in the front passenger seat. Shawn walked up to the car door and motioned for him to lower the window. Fin opened the door and got out. “Everyone’s checked in and accounted for. They’re on their own until tonight for dinner. Tristen went to the restaurant to make certain everything is a go as planned.”
Diana gazed over at Shawn, wondering why so much planning was needed for a simple staff dinner and dancing. “Did you invite some business prospects or clients?”
“Actually, I think we’re going to have some gate-crashers. I’d hate for anyone to be disappointed. That’s the name of the game in Vegas. Plan a party, don’t put people on a VIP list, and boy, will they show up.” He muttered, “This is Las Vegas, after all.”
“Sounds passive-aggressive.”
“Sounds about right.” Shawn sat next to her in a brooding silence, staring out the window. He held onto her hand, rubbing his finger over her ring. She tried to pull her hand away to smooth her hair but he held onto her fingers, squeezing her left hand so hard that the diamond bit into her finger. Santo delivered them to the side entrance at the Encore Hotel, where a sign was posted for the award nominees’ entrance. The driver got out first and opened the backseat door for her.
“Let him feel useful,” Shawn whispered.
She placed her palm against Santo’s and almost flinched. His palm was ice-cold. In this heat, she wondered how that was possible until she peered upward and met his pitch colored eyes. She saw a mercurial flicker, as though a mask had been lifted for a millisecond and then dropped, and only her subconscious held the deeper meaning. He released his businesslike grasp on her hand. Professional and devoid of emotion. Jesus, what had the war done to him?
Moving toward the doorway with Shawn’s fingers digging into the flesh above her hip, she glanced over her shoulder. A man with a clipboard stopped them. “Your name and company?”
She gave him the information, and in return she was handed a sheet of paper filled with the answers to FAQs. He instructed to enter at the door, proceed down the corridor, and stop at the check-in station to obtain her badge. They entered the building and Shawn’s grip on her lessened as they walked in silence, following a group who preceded them.
Diana made eye contact with a woman standing behind the table at the end of the corridor. The woman’s steely gaze swept over her from head to foot, then back upward. Diana reacted instinctively, going into offense mode. She couldn’t pinpoint what it was about the woman, but something prickled her to the marrow.
Diana was not one to be jealous, even if the woman’s tailored suit was remarkable in how it went beyond fitting her body to melding with every breath the she took. Whoever she was, her bravura style reflected an L.A. chic, and Diana imagined her clothing came from a closed-door showing on Rodeo Drive. The woman’s drop-dead looks hit like a meteorite and were the type that stunned a person speechless.
Interesting, Diana thought as the woman continued to stare her down. It made no sense. The woman put it out there, owning it, flaunting it. The right clothes, the right hair, the right everything. Not an article out of place. She dripped style like a leaky faucet until the airspace around her was filled with her essence.
“Just a moment,” the woman said to the group in front of Diana.
As if on cue, the she softly snapped her fingers, and the young woman next to her leaned over. She whispered into the woman’s ear and then traded places with her.
The woman swung her gaze back, focusing on Shawn, and ignored Diana. The air didn’t just crackle, the particles burst apart. A sonic wave couldn’t have been more powerful. Diana prayed she didn’t just hear what she thought she did. No, this had to be a mistake. She gazed down at the woman’s identification badge. Mia Velarte.
“Only two?” Shawn’s ex-fiancée spoke to him with an exaggerated, condescending tone that scratched the surface of Diana’s composure, before taking hold in a vise grip. Mia sneered as though she’d just smelled cauliflower cooking nearby.
“So, you’re here. I’ve been expecting you and your … team.”
“Mia, we’re here to check in. Why don’t you address the nominee? I’m not here to receive an award, as you well know. This is Diana Hambre, from my team.” Shawn pressed the small of her back, then moved to take hold of her hand. “Diana, this is Mia Velarte.”
Mia laughed, looking between Shawn and her. “Ah, she’s so young. Your protégé, I suspect.” Mia swung her gaze back to Diana. “Well, Ms. Hambre. Here’s your badge. Follow the red arrows on the floor. A greeter will meet you and take you through the motions. Any questions?” Mia held out the badge.
Diana’s fingers were intertwined with Shawn’s. He didn’t release his grip, but lifted her arm as though presenting her hand. Naturally it was an odd movement, and Mia’s gaze dropped. The arched brow and flinty look were rounded out by a vindictive
smirk.
“Tiffany’s. The recession reached Denver, I see. Did you send one of the boys to fetch it out of some showroom case? Darling, if you’re going to settle, at least make certain he’s house-trained before you let him into your bed. Otherwise, you’ll be cleaning up his mess from the get-go.”
A closed-fisted punch to her jaw would have been easier to take. “The badge?” Diana asked, notching up her chin.
Mia still held onto it, apparently having forgotten all about the badge.
For Diana, Mia’s behavior was a sure sign she’d been disturbed by her. This was totally a mess. She sneaked a glance at Shawn. Obviously, Mia wasn’t the only one playing. This was a show, and Shawn was simply gauging her reaction. The ring, the hand-holding, the staff trip. This was the ultimate Vegas show. Lights — camera — action.
She would have crumpled onto the floor if this had been a month ago. Her conscience tugged at her to be reasonable, unwilling to believe that Shawn’s hatred for his ex-fiancée would involve her and her emotions.
The only rule Shawn played by was to win. She’d been a fool to let him into her world. A raging lunatic to believe a man who’d shown little interest in her until she’d been nominated for some stupid award was not angling for something. Mia handed over the badge, and this time Diana reached for it. This was one of those moments when her world threatened to come tumbling down, and it took every ounce of her strength to maintain her composure, gazing across the table at Shawn’s old lover.
Thank God for Tristen and this training. The leopardess in her stirred near the surface, straining to break free, and she held back, controlling herself. She absorbed this woman’s scent, and squinted. From Mia’s wrists, a strangely familial aroma wafted upward. Not entirely Shawn; more of his family, or lineage. Barely discernible, but as Diana panted her Jacobson organ went to work, confirming it was not an olfactory mirage. Mia carried some part of his mark. Why hadn’t she noticed while standing in the line?
A group of people crowded around them, and someone asked a question, reminding Mia that they had an appointment.
Mia straightened her paperwork on the table. “Yes. Well this has been glorious fun. Now, I’ve others to assist.”
“All set? There’s a sign over there for the auditorium entrance,” Shawn said, leading her away from the table as she clipped the badge to her collar.
Christ, she hadn’t even known this check-in had been scheduled, or that there were appointments for the rehearsal. And then it dawned on her. Shawn had offered to take care of all the details, and she’d let him. Right down to the smallest one. Her heart.
She started away from Mia, walking close to the wall, the warmth of Shawn’s body easing past the bitter cold that had filled her, freezing her emotions. They turned down another hall where, up ahead, the main auditorium was a blitz of people, cameras, and noise. Shawn’s fingers brushed heat over her hand. “Please don’t touch me,” she said, between clenched jaws, snatching her hand away after several people had walked by and nodded.
Shawn took hold of her by the arm and hauled her next to him. “That was the woman who stole from me. I won’t let her take you as well.”
“Stop playing games with me. I get what you did. I understand that she screwed up your life and messed with your head. But that’s no reason to pass the poison,” Diana whispered, then stopped talking as a young woman smiled and came up to them. Shawn finally let go of her even though the blaze from his eyes was hotter than a Santa Ana wind.
“Hello, I’m Tara. Ms. Hamble, please come with me. I’ll show you where you’ll be seated, and how to get to the stage easily and quickly. This ceremony is televised. So we want to make sure you know how to get on stage and then exit. It won’t take long.”
“Uh, excuse me, Tara. My name is Diana Hambre.”
“Oh, I’m terribly sorry, Ms. Hambre.” The young woman peered down at her papers, then she scrutinized Diana’s badge. “The rooster has you listed incorrectly.”
Diana looked down at her badge as well. Great. She’d failed to notice that she’d been walking around with the wrong name clipped to her collar.
“I’ll have that corrected. I assure you by the awards ceremony. Diana Hambre. Right this way.”
“Yes. I’ll follow you. Excuse me just a moment.”
She turned to Shawn and lowered her voice. “Maybe you’d like to stay here and play catch-up with Mia. Anger has a strange way of dissolving during face-to-face meetings. I don’t want to go forward, not knowing where I stand.”
“There’s nothing — ” Diana placed her finger against his lips. The texture of his mouth sent a tingle of shock racing up her spine.
She whispered to him. “There’s everything on the line. Maybe not to you. But to me. Sort it out and don’t drag me down. I’ll be back. If you’re here, fine. If not, I’m a big girl and have been on my own for too long not to know what to do. I can find my way back to the hotel.”
She exhaled, gazing into his face, his eyes so fierce she should have melted on the spot. But she didn’t. On shaky legs, she followed Tara, leaving him standing in the corridor.
Chapter 16
With his back to the wall in every way possible, he watched Diana walk away, and he wanted to slam his head against the stone surface next to him. After surveying the auditorium, he strode to the area behind the tables where the media were stationed, reluctant to wait in the corridor and chance another conversation with Mia.
From what his sources had relayed, he knew Mia had already planned on shamelessly showing up at their dinner tonight. Somehow she’d managed an underhanded wheedling of an invitation. Since he couldn’t outright stop Mia from inviting herself, he set about putting enough security measures in place to keep Diana from spontaneously shifting and getting into trouble.
The sight of Mia in person was worse than he’d anticipated, but not for the reasons that Diana asserted. He’d gotten over Mia’s crap and superficial charm, and had no plans on looking back or revisiting anything from his past that concerned Mia or Frazier. What had him by the balls was the thought that Diana would undoubtedly be cast in the middle of this showdown and, in her condition, she might snap.
Mia had emailed him as soon as he’d returned from his week with Diana, wanting to do a meet-and-greet. That ludicrous statement about the economy back at the table in front of Diana … He should have thrown back in her face that several of her creditors had called him to discuss Mia’s dismal financial picture as if she still worked for him.
He had Quinn check Mia and Frazier out again and he’d found out answers to his questions. Up until then he’d not thought much about either of them over the last six years.
He hadn’t wanted to start something with Diana there. Mia was on a manhunt and he knew when she had begun casting her net that she was looking for bigger fish than Frazier. Her partner had hit bottom in the design industry and hadn’t had a good idea since he’d split from Matrix. Mia and Frazier burned the clients they’d stolen and now had a mere handful left, not enough for a firm to survive.
Mia was looking to jump ship and he ascertained she’d been scouting for information about him. Quinn said she’d made calls to the Den and had gotten hold of Sonya, pretending to be a design consultant working with Matrix. Sonya didn’t buy it and had relayed that she’d recognized Mia’s voice with that all-too-perceptive coyote hearing. His manager had informed Quinn that someone had given Mia some information when she alluded to Shawn leaving the Den with a Matrix designer. Once Sonya had made it clear she wasn’t going to divulge anything, Mia became riled and went so far as to insinuate that Shawn’s business was more hanky-panky than aboveboard with his staff.
Quinn had sworn he’d fucking kill Mia and that the leak didn’t come from him. Hell, he had also sworn that he didn’t even know that Shawn had relations with Diana. The way his friend phrased “sex” as relations made him realize that Quinn was being respectful, and he’d smiled ruefully.
No, the leak was one of th
e room attendants, possibly the one he and Diana had passed on the stairs. That night had been crazy. Mind-blowing sex, all right.
Hell, he’d never come down from that high and he never intended to, ever. Diana was his. He waited for her to return, only letting his gaze break when he texted Tristen to get his ass over here. Stress. Yeah, he’d say that this situation with Mia reeked of stress.
He stood in the shadows at the back of the room, tracking Diana’s movements as she was escorted to the location of her seat, and then up across the stage. Her grace and ease were a masterful cover for the tumultuous undercurrents that were roiling through her at this very moment, while she smiled and listened to the young woman next to her. From his vantage point, he sipped the air currents for Diana’s scent.
Diana turned slightly, apparently feeling his gaze. She lifted her head and stared at him, unblinking. Her slightly-parted mouth briefly displayed the tips of her canines, while the skin across her face tightened.
Had she been in leopardess form, her ears would have laid flat against her head while her tail whipped back and forth. Diana and he were now deeply marked by each other, and that came with a heightened sensory perception that easily interpreted non-verbal nuances--especially when their gazes clashed and her eyes shot daggers across the room at him.
Fuck, Mia and her games; he should have been better prepared.
At the end of the rehearsal Shawn walked back to the corridor, arriving before Diana who had to weave through a throng of people in front of the stage.
She appeared at the end of the hall, the color high on her cheekbones; her eyes gleamed green, then flashed red.
Christ, he could see that only her will to control shifting kept her from prowling down the hall toward one deserving target. He couldn’t let her do that. This place was so full of security that they’d cart her away to some facility for uncontrollable shifters. No one in his inner circle had ever made the mistake of thinking a wild animal would be welcomed at an event. Shifter or not, in human form they were all vulnerable and, regardless of what sentiments a shifter had, the law was the law. This wasn’t the time of Jesse James, and busting someone out of a lock-up facility didn’t happen.
