by Croft, Nina
“If you arrange anything, I swear I will kill you. I don’t care what Ethan threatens, I will kill you.”
Maybe her face paled slightly, but he couldn’t be sure. She must be aware it was an empty threat, because he would never risk his family. Straightening, he turned away from her. His head ached viciously, and he ran his hands through his hair, rubbing his scalp, trying to ease the pressure. He took a deep breath, and another, before he turned back to face her.
“I’ll do my part,” he said. “Just don’t lay it on so thick. My family aren’t stupid. I’m not that good an actor, so cool it or they’ll get suspicious.”
She sat up and swung her legs around so she faced him. Her eyes were bland, but her hands were fisted at her side. “You’d better hope they don’t become suspicious,” she snarled and her otherworld energy seeped into the room. Great, the last thing he needed was Sophia to go wolfy on him. “And you’d better make sure your little Lissa keeps her hands to herself. You make sure she understands you’re my property now.”
“She’s not my Lissa,” he said. And she never would be. “She’ll keep her hands to herself. You don’t have to worry about that.”
Sophia rose gracefully from the bed and stood beside him, close, so close that she could reach out a finger and stroke it down his chest. She toyed with one of the buttons of his shirt and he had to hold himself still so he didn’t back away. Then she peered up at him from under her lashes. “But I do worry. And if I worry, Ethan worries.”
He knew the words were a not-very-veiled threat and suddenly, weariness washed over him. “Well, I’ll leave you to worry alone.”
Without waiting for her to say anything else, he turned on his heels and strode across the room. She spoke again as he reached the door.
“I hope you got me a nice ring.”
At the door, he glanced back. “Suits you perfectly.”
He closed the door behind him. For a minute, he shut his eyes, and leaned his back against the wall. How had his life ever turned into this mess? A big, bad, horrible mess that he could see no way out of. Well one way, but one that would mean going down a path that would see him relinquishing the last of his humanity. Becoming one of the monsters.
He pushed himself up from the wall and opened his eyes. Then groaned under his breath. Things had just gotten a whole lot worse.
Lissa stood about ten feet away, staring at him. She’d undressed for the night and was wearing a pair of black pajama bottoms and a camisole. The silky top clung to her small, rounded breasts and showed off her shoulders and the jut of her collarbone. Compared to Sophia, she was almost scrawny, so why did she make his heart beat faster?
With Sophia in the room behind him, he had to get Lissa away from here. He vaguely remembered that she and Julia were sharing a room. Well, why wasn’t she tucked safely in bed at this time of the night?
She stared at him out of enormous eyes. When had her eyes gotten so big? And she was leaning against the wall as though she couldn’t stand up on her own. As she caught his gaze, she lifted one unsteady hand and waggled her fingers at him.
Christ, she was drunk.
Just what he needed. He definitely had to get her out of here.
He strode toward her, coming to a halt foot away. “Have you been drinking?”
She pursed her lips. “I have been drinking sangria with your sisters. Lots of sisters and lots of sangria. They are a bad influence.”
“Funny,” he muttered, “I always remembered you being the bad influence.”
She sniffed. “I changed, matured.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet.”
“You’d know that, if you spent a little bit of time with me. I’m a mature woman. I’ve spent the last ten years saving the world.”
“And I bet you did a wonderful job, but right now I think we need to get you to bed.”
“You do?” She smiled as she reached up with a shaky hand and tugged at a strand of his hair. “You used to have long hair, now it’s short.”
“Yeah.”
“So’s mine. We have so much in common.”
He bit back a smile; he didn’t want to encourage her. Her hair was extremely short, black, and glossy like a raven’s wing. It suited her, made her thin face more feminine, emphasizing those gorgeous eyes, golden like dark honey. The eyes he was gazing down into in a most inappropriate manner. She blinked and fluttered her lashes. Was it on purpose? Was it part of the “plan”? But he reckoned she was too drunk to think about any plan at this moment.
“Is that Sophia’s room?” she asked, her eyes narrowing on him. “Your hair is mussed, but you don’t look like you’ve been making love. You’re still all buttoned up. She touched a finger to one of his shirt buttons, much as Sophia had earlier. With Sophia, he had felt nothing but a vague revulsion. When Lissa touched him, it was like a jolt of lightning shooting along his nerves.
Lissa licked her lips, and he groaned inwardly. She appeared to think for a few seconds, her head cocked on one side as she considered him. “You kissed me.”
“It was a weak moment. It won’t happen again.”
Oh God, he hoped it wouldn’t happen again. It couldn’t happen again. He tried to tell himself he didn’t want to kiss her, but her lips were so pink and full and kissable. This would be so much easier if he didn’t… He broke off the thought.
“It won’t?” she asked.
She sounded forlorn. Perhaps she wanted him to kiss her. He’d been so busy thinking about his own feelings, his somewhat unique problems, that he hadn’t given much consideration to hers. Why had she really come back? Had Julia called her up and said, We have a problem with Daniel. Can you come back and save him from himself?
Did she want him? She hadn’t exactly fought him off the other morning. In fact, she had kissed him right back. At the memory, his cock jerked in his pants and heat settled low in his belly.
He glanced back the way he had come. Sophia’s door was still shut tight, but who knew how long that would last. She had excellent hearing—they all did—far advanced from a normal human. He needed to take Lissa somewhere they’d have company so he wouldn’t be tempted to give in to the almost overwhelming urge to drag her back to his room and make mad passionate love to her.
“Come on,” he said, putting a hand on her shoulder and turning her gently. “Let’s get you out of here and back where you belong.”
For a moment, she resisted. “But Daniel, where do I belong? I don’t know.”
“Well, right now, you belong in your room with Julia. I presume Julia is in your room.”
“She was. But I was thirsty. I needed a drink.” She frowned. “I found you instead, but I’m still thirsty.”
“Okay, I’ll get you a drink first, and then we’ll go to your room.” Ushering her with one hand on her arm and the other at the small of her back, he headed away from Sophia’s room toward the staircase. The warmth of her skin penetrated through the thin material of her top, heating his palm. She leaned against him and he pressed her shoulder so she sank down onto the top stair. “Don’t move. You sit here and wait for me. I’ll be right back with your drink.”
Daniel hurried away, but on the bottom stair, he turned to look at her. She had her hands resting on her knees and her chin resting on her hands.
“You have a sensational butt,” she said, her tone serious.
Had he heard her right?
“Actually, you have a sensational everything.” She sighed. “Were you always this beautiful? How did I ever walk away?”
There wasn’t really a lot he could say to that. Had he changed in appearance that much since she’d left? It wasn’t something he’d really thought about. So he turned away and headed for the kitchen.
He grabbed a bottle of sparkling water from the fridge and was pouring a glass when she spoke from behind him.
“Daniel?”
He jumped. Why the hell hadn’t he heard her? Sophia wasn’t the only one who was supposed to have inhuman hearing. He was probably too busy thinking ab
out the fact that Lissa thought he had a beautiful butt.
“I thought you were waiting?” he said.
“I got lonely.” She shuffled into the kitchen. Her feet were bare and made no sound on the terra-cotta tiles. “And you were gone for ages.”
“About thirty seconds.”
She ignored him. “And I missed you.”
Maybe she needed coffee, not water. He crossed the room and switched on the coffee machine. He should leave her to it but he couldn’t resist spending a bit more time with her. The state she was in, he doubted she would remember much of the conversation. And on the plus side, he’d keep his hands off her because she was drunk, and he didn’t take advantage of women who were in no state to say no. “How much have you had to drink?”
“Lots and lots of sangria.”
He leaned back against the counter and shoved his hands in his pockets. “How many jugs?”
“I’m not sure, but more than one.”
“Quite a lot more, I’m guessing.”
“Well, the waiters were so sweet and so obliging.”
“I bet they were.” He had a thought. “I take it you all made it back.”
“Debora wanted to stay. She liked one of the waiters,” Lissa said. “I mean really liked.” She leered at him in case he didn’t get her meaning. He did. “She wanted to go home with him, but Marcy made her come back with us.”
“Good.”
“So Debora invited him to the party, tomorrow.”
Oh well, one more was hardly going to be noticeable. This party was turning into a circus. But he supposed his mother was only sixty once. “That’s nice.”
He was trying his damnedest not to look directly at her, because then he would remember that she was wearing nothing but a pair of silky pajamas and that she was naked underneath. Instead, he got milk from the fridge and poured it into two cups, added the coffee, and finally turned back to her.
She’d perched on one of the stools at the breakfast bar, her bare feet dangling inches from the floor. Her toenails were painted goldy yellow and sort of matched her eyes. After placing the cup beside her, he moved a safe distance away.
“Don’t you want to sit next to me?” she asked. Leaning over, she patted the stool next to her, giving him a view right down the front of her top to the shadows between her breasts. He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry.
“I’m okay here, thank you.”
She eyed him suspiciously. “Are you afraid of me?”
“Terrified.”
She nodded solemnly. “You’re right to be afraid. And you know why?”
“No, but I suspect I’m about to find out.”
“Because I’m out to ruin your perfect life.”
“My life isn’t perfect.” He tried to keep the bitterness from his voice.
“No, it isn’t, is it? You’re going out with the bitch monster from hell, a.k.a The Evil One.”
He bit back a smile at the amazingly accurate description of Sophia. “She’s sweet underneath.”
“Are you really going to marry her?”
He glanced away, staring out of the window into the night. “Yes.”
“That is so sad.” She blinked and a tear spilled out of one eye and dribbled down the flawless skin of her cheek. She blinked again and another tear. Oh, God, she was crying. He took a step toward her, before remembering something. Lissa had always been able to cry at will—it was one of her party tricks.
“Cut the crocodile tears, Lissa. I know you too well.”
“Ha, nearly got you though.” She pulled a face and then grinned. “It was worth a try. And it is sad. Very sad. Do you want to tell me why?”
“Why what?”
“Why are you marrying her?”
“Because I love her?” It came out as a question and he hadn’t meant it to.
“Bullshit.”
Too right, it was bullshit. He searched his mind for something she might believe. “Because she’s beautiful, sexy, and great in bed.”
“Yeah well, she’s probably had a lot of practice.” She took a sip of her coffee. “Is she better than me?”
What was he supposed to say? Nobody had ever been better than Lissa. That night was indelibly ingrained in his mind. He still dreamed of it—woke up with a raging hard-on from the memories at least once a week. In the past, he’d tried to tell himself that it was because she was his first. Everyone remembered their first. But he knew it was more than that. The wolves had a legend that everyone had a true mate, though most never found them, some found them and lost them…
He peered into her face. She was blinking. Oh God, she was going to cry again. Then he remembered it hadn’t been real the last time. Still, he needed to answer her question.
“More experienced than you,” he settled on. He couldn’t believe he was talking about sex with Sophia to Lissa. It seemed a little surreal. Especially considering he was making the whole thing up. He’d never had sex with Sophia and God forbid he ever would.
Her gaze flashed back to his. “I’m more experienced now.”
A jolt of rage and jealousy shot through him. Inside him, his wolf howled—he wasn’t happy about the idea either.
That night, she’d said she wasn’t a virgin, but she’d been sweet and innocent and he’d gotten the distinct impression that it was very new to her, that they were discovering pleasure together.
“You said you weren’t a virgin—”
“Did I? Of course I’m not a virgin. I am twenty-eight, and anyway you know I’m not—I slept with you.”
“I meant that night on my twentieth birthday. You said you weren’t a virgin. Who had you been with?”
She regarded him suspiciously. “Are you taking advantage of the fact that I am slightly inebriated to find out all my deep dark secrets?”
“Do you have lots?”
“No. That’s sad isn’t it?”
“So who’s this guy you slept with before me?”
“You remember your mother employed someone to clear the back garden the summer I was seventeen?”
Daniel searched his memory.
“That dickhead?” He couldn’t remember but he’d bet the guy had been a dickhead. Though really Daniel was quite aware that he wasn’t going to like whoever it had been.
“He wasn’t a dickhead. He was a student.”
“Did you seduce him as well?”
“No, he seduced me.” She grinned. “But I let him. I was curious and he was sort of hot.”
Not something he wanted to hear. He tried to remember the boy, but he’d been away most of that summer, and he came up blank.
“Was he better than me?”
“No he wasn’t. No one has ever been better than you.” She sounded mournful and it so mirrored his own thoughts earlier.
“So you’ve tried a few?”
“One or two.” She peered at him closely while swaying on the stool. “Why are you asking?” Something must have occurred to her, something good if her expression was anything to go by. “Are you jealous?”
He didn’t answer, because she really didn’t need to know how jealous he was. But he had no right to be jealous. She wasn’t his to be jealous of.
When he didn’t reply, she pushed herself off the stool and wobbled toward him. He thought he should back off but he was leaning against the counter and had nowhere to go. She stopped only inches from him and her sweet perfume drifted into his nostrils. He closed his eyes for a second, but she was still there when he opened them. Resting one palm flat on his chest, she gazed up into his face.
“You don’t have to be jealous,” she said. “There’s absolutely nothing to be jealous of—I’ve never really wanted anyone but you.”
Her eyes widened as though she couldn’t believe she had said that. He couldn’t believe it, either.
“Oh God,” she said.
“What is it?”
“I feel a little…woozy.”
Then her eyes fluttered closed, and she fainted. He caught her
as her legs gave way and scooped her up in his arms. For long seconds, he stood with her clasped against his chest. Her eyes remained shut but the pulse beat rapidly under the skin of her throat. She felt right in his arms, too right, and he headed for the stairs.
When he got to the top, he paused. He didn’t know which way to go, but a door opened across the hallway and a sleepy Julia poked her head out.
“Daniel, I was coming to hunt for her.” She nodded down at the unconscious Lissa in his arms. “Is she okay?”
“Just too much to drink. I hope.”
“I don’t think she’s done much drinking in the past.”
“Well, she seems to be making up for it.”
“Yeah.” She eyed him with a speculative gleam in her eyes. “Is she making up for anything else?”
Daniel ignored the question and nudged past her. The room was large with twin beds. One rumpled, one in pristine condition. Julia hurried around him and pulled back the top sheet from the made bed.
He lowered Lissa gently to the mattress. She clung to him a little, though that might have been his imagination.
She lay, her head on the pillow, her eyes closed. Daniel willed her to open them but she didn’t move, and he resisted the urge to drop a kiss on her slightly parted lips. Instead, he touched his fingertip to the pulse in her throat; it was fast but strong, and he straightened and stepped back.
Crap. Bollocks.
She admitted she still wanted him, and he’d bet anything his sisters hadn’t put her up to saying that.
And he admitted it—he wanted her. Badly.
Christ, he hated his life.
He glanced away from Lissa to find Julia studying him. “You can’t marry Sophia,” she said.
Shit, he wished people would stop telling him that. “Just watch me,” he growled and turned on his heels and stalked out of the room.
…
Lissa kept her eyes clamped tight shut until she heard the door click closed and she knew he had gone.
Holy hell. Had she really told him how she felt about him?
Nah. She was hallucinating again, like she’d done when she was sick with malaria. Now, she’d snuggle down in this nice cozy bed, go to sleep, and in the morning she’d find it was just a bad dream. Though it hadn’t all been bad. The bit where he’d cradled her in his arms and held her against his hard, muscled chest had been pretty damn nice.
