Marked

by Siobhan Kinkade

  Marked

  Siobhan Kinkade

  Copyright © May 2011, Siobhan Kinkade

  Cover art designed by Sugar and Spice Press © May 2011

  ISBN 978-1-936668-16-8

  This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this novel are fictitious or used fictitiously. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form.

  Sugar and Spice Press

  North Carolina, USA

  www.sugarnspicepress.com

  Chapter One: Hunted

  “Lovely work, Miss Richardson.”

  Russell Tennyson was dark, mysterious, and the object of her unceasing lust from the moment Tabitha laid eyes on him, and until he spoke, she had been convinced that he had not even noticed her presence in the room.

  “I’m not quite finished yet,” she said, hearing her voice echo in the large, empty room, and gestured toward the ceiling-to-floor windows on the wall opposite her, the only spot in the room that wasn’t decorated. Russell glanced at the windows, then back at her and smiled.

  This job made her edgy, but he, and her immediate and inappropriate internal response to him, downright frightened her. After all, she was standing in the ballroom of his home—his private residence, Tabitha reminded herself for the umpteenth time—and her event-planning company, Magical Moments, was being paid a very intimidating six-figure sum of money to see that the night was immaculately presented for himself and his guests. She didn’t have time to contemplate the tug of arousal at the sight of him; there was too much work to be done.

  “You seem to have read my mind,” he said, stalling her as she reached to adjust a glass bowl on one of the perimeter tables. “This is perfect.” It was quiet, they were alone, and he was on the other side of the room, but the acoustics brought the sound to her like he was standing behind her. His voice flowed over her like silk, low and intimate, with a warm timbre that promised wicked things. She shivered and turned to face him, only to find herself held captive by a pair of intelligent, ice-chip eyes that stole the very breath from her lungs.

  The way he had emphasized the “miss” before her name had sent shivers down her spine, punctuating his appeal with a stab of desire straight to the heart of her sex. Any idiot could see by the lack of a ring on her finger that she was not attached to anyone, but the way he pointed out that lack of attachment sent her mind twirling toward the obscene.

  So not good, Tab.

  It took her a moment to rip herself out of her little fantasy world in which he was the naked and very competent star and process the fact that he had spoken to her. And that he might be expecting a reply.

  “T-thank you,” she muttered, and chewed back a wince. Right now she sounded like a complete idiot, and it was all his fault. She couldn’t think about all the work she had left to do when she was too busy focusing on the fact that her belly was on fire and her knees were one degree away from jelly.

  He appeared nothing at all like the entrepreneurial multibillionaire of Fortune 500 legend, or the fashionable playboy the media swore him to be. For someone so outstanding, he looked like a run-of-the-mill, insanely good-looking man who made her wish she’d included a pair of dry panties with her uniform for tonight. He had dark, shaggy hair with just the right amount of curl, broad, mouthwatering shoulders and narrow hips that tapered into strong legs. His cheeks and chin were shadowed with a day’s worth of stubble, but it only added to the air of power, mystery, and danger surrounding him. He did not look like he had just come from an important business meeting… He looked more like he had just crawled out of the jungle.

  He was tall, and for someone who was supposed to be in his mid-forties, he appeared very, very young. His clothes were made of smooth, pressed linen, the only nod to his true wealth she could find on his person. He wore no jewelry, and when he moved he moved like a man comfortable in his own skin. There was no stiffness to his posture, nothing that would signal the need to be seen as something more. Russell was quite possibly the most charismatic man she had ever met, and he moved with animal grace and inherent self-confidence, inspecting her handiwork, interspersing his murmurs and sighs of appreciation with backward glances toward her that simultaneously lit her on fire and chilled her blood. The sight of him brought to mind some sort of large, predatory cat, or maybe even a member of the lupine family. The swagger in his step spoke of danger and excitement, and as the tingling warmth of awareness settled over her, Tabitha knew she would take whatever damage came with him just to get whatever this man had to offer. He was an open book filled with an enigma, and one she wanted to quickly unravel. Or undress—whichever he would allow.

  There was no denying that she wanted him in the worst kind of way. Tabitha had been in his house over four hours already, decorating and preparing the perfection he had requested, and holding everything together with just the slightest bit of magic. He had greeted her at the door when she arrived, sending her into a tailspin from the start. Then he had come through to check her progress from time to time, but he had yet to linger like he did this time.

  His blue eyes sparkled with mischief under the soft light of the overhead chandeliers, and the smile on his lips when he turned to her made her want to melt into the floor. Or into his arms. Sweet hell, she just wanted to touch him. The mere sight of this monster of a man made her want to cast away her clothes and present herself to him as an offering. When he smiled, she wanted to lick him from end to end; to make him as wet and muddled as he made her.

  “I trust the food will be as stunning as the décor,” he said, ending the circuit of the room and starting back toward her. She grinned from ear to ear, very likely looking goofy, but she had just received a compliment from the most handsome man in the world so she could not be bothered to care. He seemed to not notice, opting instead to trace the lines of her figure with his eyes. Appreciation and something a bit darker and less defined floated there as well.

  Tabitha knew that when a man looked at a woman like that, business was the last thing on his mind, even if business was what was coming out of his mouth. It thrilled her that he could so easily show her how he felt, even if he wouldn’t say it. Images of his body, what she imagined he would look like naked, filled her imagination with visions so powerful that she could almost feel him moving inside her. Her breath stuttered out of her lungs in a short, staccato rhythm, and she had a hard time inhaling again. Russell’s head tilted slightly to one side while he contemplated her, but he did not comment.

  What were they talking about again? Oh, right…food.

  “I assure you it will be everything you want it to be,” she breezed, sounding much calmer than she felt. She was wound tighter than a top, and had to force her arms down by her sides to keep from raising a rogue hand and flipping her hair with that nervous energy. That move was a little too schoolgirl for her, even as she fought the unrelenting urge to do it.

  He crossed the room toward her, filling up her vision with his presence. He offered a dashing grin and his hand, both of which she accepted graciously. His skin was rough, as if he had spent considerable time working with his hands, and the sliver of contact made her shiver. Awareness and a new, deep longing prickled along her skin as he brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. Oh, the things he could probably do with those hands…and that mouth, so soft and warm against her hand. When Tabitha managed to smile up at him, she simultaneously tightened the muscles in her thighs, hoping to abate the tingle starting there.

  He was also, she realized a moment later, feverish.

  She wondered if he should be hosting a party with a temperature such as that, but one look into his sharp eyes told her that he was capable of handling the pressure, under the weather or not. He still had hold of her hand, the pad
of his thumb stroking over the inside of her wrist. She was certain he could feel her heartbeat thumping wildly out of control each time he touched that artery.

  Something else was hidden in the look on his face, but she was too distracted to truly grasp it. When he lifted her wrist and drew his nose along her skin, she very nearly had a heart attack. That wicked little flicker was back in his eyes, and she knew that he knew she would follow him to the end of the earth, ailing or not.

  “Until then…” he added, and he swept away before she could comprehend what had happened. Tabitha watched the door long after he was gone, still trying hard to process him. Sweet Earth Mother, she wanted him in a way that she had never, ever wanted another person, and it didn’t help that he had touched her. And smiled at her. And looked at her. A lot.

  “Down, girl,” came a familiar voice from over her shoulder. Tabitha turned around and smiled warmly, thankful for the distraction from her thoughts. Cera, her best friend and business partner, smiled back at her. Cera’s ebony skin sparkled with a combination of shimmer dust and raindrops, and it made Tabitha’s smile spread just a bit wider. When she shook out her long, multi-colored braids, water speckled Tabitha‘s face and she squinted against it while her mind caught up to the rest of her. “I know he’s hot and all—”

  “Hot?” Tabitha snorted, “The man is walking sex on a stick!”

  “—but he is the boss,” Cera finished. “It ain’t healthy for you to be looking at him like he’s on the menu, Tabby.”

  “I’m not!” she defended weakly, aware it was a bald lie. Lie or not, though, she was going to stand by it. "And don't call me Tabby." Petulant, she knew, but it was all she had. Tabitha couldn’t deny the attraction she felt and swore he picked up on it as well, but she also knew he would be the one signing her check at the end of the night, once the job was completed to his liking. “I just like looking at him.”

  ***

  Stunning little creature, that redhead. Gorgeous. And ripe for his picking, if he was reading her right. She was absolutely oblivious to the fact that she had him tangled up in knots, and he preferred to keep it that way. Russell watched her from the safety of the hallway, standing silently in the shadows as she and her friend bustled around his kitchen, arguing about whether she was good enough for him.

  Oh, she was. She might be just a caterer in her own mind, and a witch to boot, but those two things made her no less divine in his eyes. She was not a classic beauty, but she still held a mysterious allure that drew him to her like a moth to an open flame. Her wild red hair framed her heart-shaped face in a halo of slightly frizzy ringlets, topped off by straight-cut bangs that hung just above her eyebrows. Her full cheeks tapered into a sharp, angular jaw topped with a high, Grecian nose and the most sinful set of pouting lips he had ever seen. Her body was full and curvaceous, with a narrow waist and flared hips that slid into a perfectly rounded ass. The type of ass he could sink his teeth into and never, ever let go. The soft sway of her body as she moved drew his eyes, and he found himself reaching out as if he would touch her.

  The fever was taking control of him, shocking his baser urges into motion when any other time he could handle these thoughts. But tonight, with the moon so close and so full, it would be hard to keep his hands to himself. Or his dick. Oh, God, how he wanted to share that with her.

  Get a hold of yourself, you fool!

  Russell shook his head, clearing out the depraved fantasies while he adjusted the waistband of his pants and with it his growing erection. Every time he thought of her, his cock leapt in anticipation. He wanted her, and from the way she responded to him, he knew he would easily have her.

  If she were willing, he would be more than happy to accommodate her desires while indulging in his own. It was a dangerous night for her, because with the moon at its peak he could guarantee her nothing of her safety, particularly if she happened to be as close as he wanted her to be. But to have her…to feel that long, lithe body wrapped around his, to feel her warm heat enveloping him as he moved inside her… The latent sexual tension between the two of them promised passion enough to derail his curse, at least temporarily.

  He was fairly certain that she would be willing to try. Only, the little dark-skinned one was determined to stop her from following through on the obvious attraction she felt for him. Only, once dinner started and he had her cornered, there would be nothing at all stopping her from having him if she so wanted him. He would gladly sacrifice himself to whatever she wanted. Turning and stalking out the side door, Russell stole a surreptitious glance at her ass and chuckled to himself. He needed a good run to distract himself until dinner.

  He just hoped he could distract himself long enough to bait her.

  ***

  “Out. Of. Your. League.” Cera snorted, punctuating each word with a poke to Tabitha’s shoulder. “Head in the game, girl!” She clapped her hands on each word. “Head in the game!”

  “Yeah…”

  “Great job with the deco, by the way.”

  “Thanks,” Tabitha said. She knew her friend was trying to distract her from the possibility of a naked romp with her temporary boss. Too bad it wasn’t working very well. She even went so far as to consider the ramifications of using her magic to tangle him up so she could have her way with him…or at least get a good look at him naked.

  “Dare I ask how you got the balloons into the corners of the twelve-foot ceilings without a ladder?”

  Tabitha shrugged and chewed her cheek to hide her smile. “Nothing a little witchcraft couldn’t handle.”

  “I wouldn’t go around advertising that.” Cera’s voice was flat and held a strong warning that she, as usual, ignored.

  “I don’t. But what’s the point of having a talent if you can’t put it to good use?” Cera eyed her, but said nothing else about it. “I mean, I didn’t name the business Magical Moments for nothing, you know…”

  Cera continued to ignore her. “We have more stuff in the van.”

  “I’m coming.” With a last wistful glance at the closed hallway door, Tabitha sighed and followed her friend down to collect the serving trays. Cera admonished her every chance she got for using her talent, but it wasn't as if she was using it to hurt others...quite the opposite. Very few people in the world knew of her gift, and any effort she made with it was meant solely for the benefit of others. The last thing she needed was karma coming back to bite her in the ass for squandering her gift. But honestly, if she could snap her fingers and make streamers and fabric fall perfectly, was it really so wrong? So long as their customers failed to notice her sleight of hand and continued to praise her for a job well done, Cera would just have to get her butt off her shoulders and get the hell over it.

  Outside, the afternoon was warm but overcast and sticky, the clouds hanging overhead pregnant with still unshed raindrops. The grass around her was damp, beads of moisture clinging to their neatly manicured tips. Tabitha sniffed experimentally, smiling when she smelled the clouds, heavy with their load and just about to burst. She also smelled something else that completely derailed her...something unusual and wild. Not necessarily animal…but not entirely human either.

  It was then that she noticed something moving just at the tree line behind the house. It was large and dark, and was running fast enough to let out large puffs of breath. Tuning in, she listened to the labored breathing as the thing ran, the grunts of exertion under the heavy sound a little too close to human for her comfort. The sight made her pause, head tilted to one side in confusion, and even Cera stopped to see what had her attention.

  "Tabby...it's just a dog," she said, but Tabitha could hear the waver of uncertainty in her voice.

  "That doesn't look like any dog I've ever seen,” she argued, ignoring the name for the time being. “It looks more like a wolf."

  "Okay,” sarcasm dripped from Cera’s voice, “so it's a wolf…in the middle of Atlanta. Now will you stop daydreaming and come on, please?"

  Chapter Two: Found

/>   At eight thirty p.m., Tabitha was dressed in her standard uniform—black, high-heeled boots under black tuxedo pants and a white button-down shirt with a black satin bow-tie at her neck—and poised at the door with an antique sterling-silver tray. Her hair was swept back into a smooth French twist and her bangs brushed to one side. On the tray were glasses of champagne so expensive that she’d had to get a small business loan to purchase four cases. Her staff stood around her in a stiff straight line, waiting with their trays of hors d’oeuvres to welcome the guests as the hosts pulled open the ballroom doors.

  The sight of Russell in his black-tie finest seemed to draw the air from the room. He appeared to have grown taller, become broader across the shoulders. He was, in a word, gorgeous. And coming straight toward her with a predatory smirk on his lips. Her hands began to shake. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, pulling tendrils of magic around her to steady her arms and her nerves. It would do her no good to spill her wares.

  “Beautiful work,” he praised, and lifted a glass from her tray. The temperature in the room seemed to rise in direct proportion to his proximity, but she was determined to ignore it, with or without the fire building in her center. Tabitha opened her eyes with a smile, tilting her wrist a fraction to accommodate the shift in balance. “I look forward to tonight.”

  “I promise I won’t disappoint.” Ugh…that was pathetic. Had she really said that out loud?

  “Mmm,” he mused as he sipped from his glass, “I expect not.” He raised one eyebrow, and the burning way his eyes raked over her body as he passed made her feel like a specimen in a Petri dish. He lingered over the swell of her breasts, and her nipples tightened in response. Tabitha wished he would look somewhere else, because her shirt was tight enough that he would see the effect he had were he so inclined to keep staring.

  Then his guests filed in behind him in a steady stream, taking away both his attention and any time she would have needed to consider the innuendo in his comment. She breathed a sigh of relief and tried to focus on anything but his perfectly shaped ass as he greeted his guests.