When his father and his brother’s mate had died in a freak airplane crash, Jason had walked away from everything. The family, his responsibilities, his duties as ruler to the leopards. Everything. As second oldest, Adrian had had to step up and take over the reins. He hadn’t asked for the position of heir, but he’d be damned if he messed it up over a woman. And he’d resented the hell out of his brother for the better part of the last year for dumping everything on him and running. Weak, that’s what it was. Not being able to cope, to handle himself, to maintain control.
He sighed. Things were complicated as hell with his brother. He’d heard Jason’s mate had been found alive, hidden by her family because they thought a wereleopard an unacceptable mate for a werewolf’s human step-daughter—especially since the werewolf in question was the Alpha wolf, and their two species had been at odds for centuries. As if a Leonidas was some throw away bastard. He growled. They hadn’t really spoken in months, but his brother hadn’t deserved that.
Then again, Nico was obsessed with the idea that the airplane accident had been no accident at all, but an assassination attempt against their father, Hector. Adrian had thought his younger brother unreasonable and unwilling to deal with his grief, but since Celeste was alive, the wild idea seemed to have a hell of a lot more credence.
It was just one more bad coincidence for the Leonidas family. Or was it? Zander’s mate, Lyra, was the werewolf Alpha’s niece, an enemy clan to the leopards. Usually, wolves stayed in their own territory, east of the Mississippi River. The only reason Zander met the woman was an assassin had been hired to kill her and dump her on leopard land. Adrian had always assumed it was an attempt to start something between the two warring species. But was it really? Nico sensed something deeper, and Adrian knew his brother’s instincts were rarely wrong. Too many coincidences. Too many unsolved riddles. One more thing he wasn’t certain how to deal with—which didn’t help his foul mood this morning.
He scrubbed a hand through his hair and wandered into the shower. A cold shower. His dick still stood erect, aching with want for the woman who’d just fled his home.
He should have the maids wash the sheets—they reeked of sex. On second thought, he’d leave them. For now.
The cold tiles on the bathroom floor stung his feet. He twisted the dial to start the shower, his mind wandering back to his brother. Jason hadn’t come home when Celeste had been found. He still worked as some menial park ranger in Florida. Zander and Nico, his younger brothers, still had contact with him, but Adrian preferred otherwise. They hadn’t seen each other at all since Jason ran away. Adrian had never understood why his brother ran, and he doubted he ever would.
He was distracting himself with thoughts of his family problems. None of this would help him figure out what to do with the lovely slip of a woman he’d mated himself to in an alcohol-induced stupor last night.
He stepped into the shower and adjusted the water as hot as he could stand it. To hell with a cold shower. The water sluiced down his body, washing away Cleo’s scent. But it couldn’t erase the mark on his shoulder, couldn’t take back what their drunken recklessness had done.
He winced, a small part of him glad that Jason wasn’t here to harass him for having a one night stand and ending up mated like some regular human in Vegas with an Elvis impersonator.
A mate. What a nightmare.
A mate. What a nightmare.
Oh, God. Oh, God. What had she done? Cleo hadn’t bothered to dress, she’d just dumped her clothes on Adrian’s living room floor, shifted into her lion form, and made a beeline for the door. Her golden forelegs stretched before her, claws digging deep into the sandy earth as she raced toward her bungalow in the early dawn light. The chill of the desert morning swirled around her body as she moved, and the crisp air cleared the last dregs of alcohol from her mind.
And then she panicked.
Oh, holy Jesus. She’d never intended to mate with anyone after she left Trevor. How could she have bound herself to a stranger for the rest of her life?
No matter how safe she felt at Refuge, it was superficial. Trevor would come for her. It wasn’t a matter of if—it was a matter of when. How long would she get to pretend normalcy before he ripped her life apart once more and she had to run, to hide, to start over again? Fear skittered down her spine.
And now she was mated to Adrian Leonidas. Her stomach clenched at the thought, but the rest of her body loosened, heated. She shuddered, and a slow ripple of sweet desire filled her. Her cream-colored stucco house came into view, haloed by the morning sunlight, and she fled toward it as though her life depended on it. She’d just run from Trevor. Was she insane to want Adrian so much, so quickly? Nothing like this had ever happened to her before.
Matings among the werekind couldn’t be undone. Not ever.
She slammed the door shut to her bungalow and slumped to the floor in the entryway. The doors had been specially designed for the resort to let shifters in their animal form get in.
Her heart raced, and her chest bellowed as if she’d sprinted a marathon instead of across the resort grounds.
She didn’t think anyone had seen her. She hoped no one had. What was she going to do? She didn’t know.
Shifting back into her human form—the hair retracting, her bones molding into human formations—she walked into the bathroom for a hasty shower. She had about thirty minutes until she needed to be in her office. She and her assistant both started work at seven. Stepping under the heated spray, she shivered as the water hit the mark on her collarbone. Her nipples crested as though fingers brushed over them in the lightest of caresses. Her breath caught. She’d never guessed a mated mark could be so sensitive. Heat flooded her sex, and she grew wet with want.
Adrian’s face flashed through her mind, his jaw clenched, his features flushed, passion in his pale green eyes. Her pussy spasmed. She wanted him. Right now. Would he try to touch her at dinner? Could she resist something that pulled at her very soul? Should she try to get out of it?
Somehow she doubted he would tolerate it. And, unlike with Trevor, the possession in his gaze didn’t scare her. It comforted her, wrapped her in a feeling of belonging. How was that even possible? The total acceptance that filled her scared her to death. She’d been with Trevor for almost a decade and had never felt this way.
What was she going to do? The question nagged at her again.
Act as if nothing was wrong, as if nothing had changed. She was desperate to keep a low profile, to regain her balance. Last night was not going to help her with that. Refuge was a world-renowned resort. The Leonidases were public figures in the were community. Mating into that family was not a way to fly under the radar.
She was doomed.
Chapter Three
Adrian leaned back in his leather desk chair and pulled the file toward him. Cleo’s file. Nico, as head of security, did a background check on all of their prospective employees. Most of them never knew how thorough that check was, and they didn’t need to know. If they were offered a job here, they passed the check. End of story.
His intercom beeped. “Mr. Leonidas, I’m headed home for the day. Is there anything else you need?”
“No. Thank you.” There was nothing anyone could do for him. This he had to do for himself.
Cleo. Her name rolled through his mind, more powerful than the most pungent alcohol. Addicting, enticing. Mate.
“Not a problem, sir. Have another wonderful night with Ms. Nemean.” His secretary, Tori, chirped. As a bird-shifter, she couldn’t help it, though it had taken some time for him to get used to her chipper voice and irreverent personality. Zander’s mate, Lyra, thought it was good for him, and he’d long since learned when to let the woman have her way.
Adrian rolled his eyes and bit back a retort for his secretary relishing every piece of gossip about the Leonidas family. How she got her hands on the details of their affairs, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. He cleared his throat. “Have a good evening, Tori.”
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He had bigger issues to deal with than a nosy little bird, so he dismissed her from his mind. Cleo would meet him at the lounge in half an hour. It was where they’d been last night before they’d gone to his place. He ran the tip of his finger around the rim of his scotch. Last night. He sighed and sipped the drink.
In between conference calls about problems with a new investment he was considering and dealing with squabbling factions that fell under leopard clan leadership—his leadership—he’d managed to read her file four times today, trying to wrap his mind around the woman. He needed the facts to be prepared. When he was with her his body reacted, and his mind shut down. He wanted to know the woman’s past, know everything about her. He supposed he should feel guilty for the advantage his position gave him, but he couldn’t. The thought of facing her unarmed, stripped of all control, was more than he could handle. He needed to know.
The pieces were a jumble. Her parents’ death dates were there, the length of her relationships, her school transcripts. He saw a dedicated student, a woman who excelled in every job she’d ever had. It had been what had made them hire her. The rest of the file, the personal details, was what disturbed him.
The number of trips to the hospital, the moving to different cities when too many emergency room visits raised questions, the fear that filled those amber eyes when he’d gotten angry this morning, lead to one simple conclusion—Cleo had been abused.
Only the fact that she’d lived in borderland cities along the Mississippi River that divided leopard and wolf lands had concealed it for so long—places where violence was more likely to erupt and one injured woman could easily fall through the cracks.
Rage made his fingers tighten on the tumbler in his grip until the glass cracked. He eased his hold before it shattered. Her ex had beaten her, hurt her. Bile rose in his throat, and his stomach heaved at the thought of her in pain and helpless. The connection he felt with her was bone deep, inescapable. It scared the shit out of him.
So, here he was, desperate to learn more, to regain his perspective. Spending the day apart from her, deliberately not seeking her out, hadn’t lessened the grip of this unknown feeling in his chest.
“Trevor,” he growled. The file gave the werebear’s name and address. Cleo’s former address. He’d already had Nico begin tracking the man down. He’d never threaten Cleo again. Whatever else happened between them, as mad as it all seemed, she was his responsibility. His mate. He swallowed.
How had she wound up with a man like that? Why hadn’t her family protected her? If anyone had lifted a hand to his very pregnant sister-in-law, he would have ended the man. And if he hadn’t, Nico or Zander would have.
Who had protected Cleo? No one. What kind of strength would it take to survive? To leave?
The woman was a puzzle. All he had were dry facts. He needed more. He was going to have to get the rest from her.
Anticipation punched his stomach. More. Would the need ever ease? Would it get stronger as they spent time with each other? God help him if it got stronger. He knew next to nothing of the woman, but it felt right. All of it did. He forked a hand through his hair. He felt as if he was being jerked in forty different directions. It was crazy, and he couldn’t draw himself back from it. So, he had to move forward. But he wasn’t giving up control for any woman.
Cleo would just have to get used to that.
Decision made, he stood, flicked the file closed, straightened his tie, left his office, walked out the front doors of the sprawling building that housed the corporate offices for Leonidas Industries and headed toward the lounge. The building had the Southwestern feel as the rest of the resort, designed to blend in and not appear to be the headquarters of an international operation. The lounge had the same Spanish-inspired architecture of the larger buildings, but none of the formality. Small, round tables filled the space between the long, gleaming wooden bar and the stage for live music.
He caught sight of Cleo already sitting at one of the tables, her body strung in a tense line. He knew the moment she smelled him, because her shoulders flexed and her chin jerked in his direction, but she didn’t look at him.
Right. So that was the way she wanted to play this. Fine.
He approached the bar. “Hi, Katie.”
The buxom redhead behind the curve of polished wood smiled a welcome. “Wow, two nights in a row. This is a first. To what do I owe the privilege?” Her eyes cut to Cleo, and a knowing grin kicked up the side of her mouth. “Or should I say who?”
He cocked a brow. “You shouldn’t.”
“Noted.” She nodded, sobering. Katie had been with his family since her mother came to work for them as a maid. She’d never left, just moved around in their staff until she landed in the lounge. According to Zander, business had never been better than when she ran the place, and she was fiercely loyal to his family. “What can I get for you?”
“What’s she drinking?” He didn’t specify further. Katie knew exactly who he was talking about.
“Just seltzer water.” Her smile turned wry. “Couldn’t tempt her with anything else.”
Cleo needed to relax, but not as relaxed as she’d been last night. No hard alcohol for either of them tonight. “Wine, then. Red.”
Katie dipped behind the bar and came up with two glasses and a bottle. He hooked a finger around the neck of it and tugged it from her hand. She arched a brow, but said nothing and handed over the glasses. “I’ll send someone out to take your dinner order.”
“You do that.” He grinned and saluted her with the wine bottle.
“Yes, sir.”
Cleo’s head tilted to the side as he approached. “Does everyone always obey you?”
“Yes.” He hooked the chair opposite her with his foot and sat down. Setting the glasses on the table, he poured them each a generous serving. “Have you had a chance to look at the menu?”
“I have it memorized.”
He glanced up to meet her eyes. “Oh?”
“I’m in public relations. I make it my business to know everything about Refuge that the public might ask. I don’t like to be caught off guard.” One slim shoulder lifted in a shrug.
“Nor I.” He sipped his wine and just let himself look at her. A tailored blue pinstriped pantsuit did nothing to hide her lush body. He wanted to strip her and bury himself in her sweet, hot pussy until she screamed out her release. As she had last night, her desires calling to his. “I wonder what else we have in common, my mate.”
She hissed out a breath. “Do you have to say that quite so loudly?”
“It’s a fact, Cleo. This isn’t open to interpretation.” And he wouldn’t let her hide from it. They needed to deal with this head on. There was no pretending it hadn’t happened. And he sure as hell wouldn’t let her deny the connection between them. He forced himself to grin. “Mate in haste, repent at leisure.”
Taking a gulp of her wine, she waited a moment before speaking. “We don’t even know each other.”
“I imagine time will take care of that for us.”
A waiter approached and took their order. Adrian topped off their wine glasses before he sat back. Perhaps if he appeared at ease, she would follow suit.
She pulled in a deep breath and picked up the conversation where they’d left off. “We could hate each other.”
“I doubt that. And we can get to know each other tonight and tomorrow night. Neither of us is going anywhere.” He leaned forward, bracing his forearm on the table. “Tell me, do you want children?”
She blanched, all the blood draining from her face. “I—I always thought so.”
“What happened?” Something was there. A sore spot for her. Could she have children? He’d never contemplated having them, but it seemed a good place to start the personal questions. Wasn’t that something mates should know about each other?
Her eyes went blank. “I miscarried a baby. Not long ago.”
“I’m sorry.” His gaze met hers. “Are you all right?”
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nbsp; “Fine.” She moved as though to rise.
He snapped a hand out to close around her wrist. She sucked in a breath at the contact, and an electric shock went running through him. Her amber eyes softened, heated. Her breasts lifted with each slow breath, and her gaze stayed locked with his. She licked her lips, and his gaze dropped to watch the sensuous movement. The moment stretched, heavy with meaning. “Stay,” he said softly.
The waiter set their plates in front of them, and Adrian nodded to dismiss him. He faded away and left them to their meal.
“Eat.” She settled in her chair and obeyed. They ate in silence, and her tension seemed to ease by degrees when he asked no more questions. Watching her was a visceral pleasure. His teeth ground every time her full lips closed over her fork. He could picture those lips wrapped around his stroking cock. He’d like to fist his fingers in her silky hair. Her tongue flicked out to catch a stray drop of wine, and he barely contained a groan. His dick rose hard and full in his slacks, rubbing against his fly. He shifted in the seat, trying to ease the strain. Jesus, the woman was going to kill him.
When her gaze flicked up to meet his, she flushed and glanced away. She swallowed, her hands shaking as she reached for her wine glass. “You’re staring.”
Her scent filled his nose, intoxicating. She was turned on. He could smell her desire. He wanted to taste it too, feel her come against his mouth. “And you like it.”
“Yes,” she whispered. Her scent intensified, and he growled low in his throat.
“Are you finished with dinner?” Standing, he stepped away from the table.
She rose, but glanced at his plate. “You haven’t eaten much.”
He let his desire show in his eyes as he swept his gaze down her body, zeroing in on her hard nipples outlined by her blouse. “I wasn’t hungry…for food.”
Her eyes closed, and she pulled in a ragged breath. “Adrian, I—”
His hand closed over her elbow, savoring the delicate feel of her bones beneath his fingers. “Let’s go.”
“Where?” She followed along beside him, taking two steps for every one of his. He checked his stride to allow her to keep up.
Fleeting Passions: Forbidden Passions, Book 3 Page 2
