Even if it meant living without her.
33. CARSON
LEAVING THE DRESSING ROOM AND leaving Marek behind without giving him an answer almost killed her. Her knees shook as she forced herself to walk, spine straight, head up.
She didn't think she could do it.
Sure, they had passion going for them. They'd almost christened the damn dressing room for god's sake. She couldn't help the smile that grew on her face. That was how it was with Marek, always.
She arrived at the stage and climbed up, taking the mike with a blush on her cheeks. She remembered the feel of icy rain on her naked skin, the way she'd cried out at his touch, the way his rain-drenched body had slid against hers.
She shook her head and focused on the music.
And began to sing.
The song was totally wrong for her to be singing right then.
She tried not to think about the words as she watched Marek enter the room and pause to watch her.
Her heart swelled and emotion filled her. She blinked away the tears.
She'd been so stupid, denying him. Lying to herself. Shifter or not, she couldn't say no to him, not when she'd given him her heart the moment he'd first looked at her.
She'd wasted so much time.
His eyes met hers and she smiled at him, wishing she wasn't in the middle of a song so she could yell the truth out to him.
She loved him.
Blindingly, deeply, irrevocably.
The song peaked and the notes slowed, the end coming not soon enough.
The song over, she skipped down the stairs searching for him. But he wasn't there. She peered over the throng, standing on her toes to scan the crowd, and caught sight of him at the exit door, his wide shoulders disappearing outside.
Carson came to a stop so suddenly that someone bumped right into her. He'd left.
She was barely aware as her feet propelled her to the door. She flung it open in time to see the car speeding away, its taillights disappearing into the darkness.
What had she seen in his eyes? Hesitation? Fear?
Why would he be afraid now, after he'd managed to convince her that they belonged with each other, that his species wasn't an insurmountable obstacle.
What could possibly have happened that he'd leave right when she was about to agree to be with him?
And then she remembered his words.
There is danger in being with me.
Her fingers curled into fists.
How dare he run out on her like that? What the hell was he thinking? That leaving her would protect her from the people that were after him? He should know that she didn't care about any of that as long as she could be with him.
Then she stiffened.
How would he know if she didn't tell him?
34. MAREK
IT WAS FOR HER OWN good.
Marek was trying to convince himself of that fact. He was pacing again, the soft white pile already bearing the markings of his feet.
He'd been grounded by Lukas and his grandfather, and despite his fury, nobody could disobey the old man, unless they wanted hell for it. A man's word counted for a lot in their family, and the Alpha's word was law.
That Alpha exited the sitting room holding a glass of bourbon. Bourbon really would be bad for his health considering his age, but Marek didn't know anyone with balls brass enough to tell him that.
"Stop your damned pacing, boy, and sit down before you pass out."
"I'm fine, Sir," Marek responded, but found himself obeying anyway. He sank on to the nearest sofa, legs spread, elbows on his knees.
"What did you do?" the old man asked, his eyes penetrating almost to Marek's heart.
"She's safer without me."
His grandfather snorted. "Shows how much you know about women."
"What do you mean?" asked Marek, frowning.
Someone knocked on the door and Marek got to his feet, annoyed at the disturbance in his conversation.
He flung the door open and froze.
Carson stood there, fury in her eyes.
She took a step toward him, poking her forefinger in his chest. "How dare you leave me?" Her voice shook with rage.
Marek took two steps back, but he couldn't outpace her. She merely followed him, stabbing him with her finger.
"You do a number on me, convince me how good we'll be together."
He took two more steps back, catching sight of his grandfather, who was quietly sipping his bourbon as he watched.
She stabbed again. "You make me decide that I belong with you, and then you up and leave?"
He cleared his throat, took another step back, and found he had nowhere to go. He'd backed right up against the sofa. Funny that.
"How dare you?" she rasped again, this time tears filling her voice. And her eyes.
He reached out for her, but she backed away.
"I did it to protect you," Marek said, his heart clenching.
"That's bullshit. You can't protect me by avoiding me. That's just illogical."
Marek opened his mouth then closed it again. For once he didn't have a response.
"I'm not letting you get away with it."
Marek smiled then, loving her feistiness. "What will you do?" he asked softly.
"I'm going to marry your stubborn ass, that's what."
Marek shook his head. "They shot at me, Nyx. They want to kill me." He stepped toward her, holding her arms lightly. "The best place for you is far from me. I'm a danger to you."
"You're both right and wrong."
Both Carson and Marek turned to Aleksander Sarkozy and waited as he downed the last of his bourbon.
"What do you mean, Sir?" Marek didn't let go of Carson's arms despite the temptation. Physical affection was never deemed appropriate in front of his grandfather, especially after his Gran had been killed. But at that moment, he didn't particularly care. He wasn't letting her go.
"You may well be a danger to her, but the best place for you is at her side."
"But--"
"Don't but me, boy." Marek watched Carson's eyes widen at the old man's tone, watched the hint of a smile at her lips when his Grandfather had said 'boy.' The old man smiled. "If you had any control of your bear senses, you'd be well aware of why."
Marek frowned, his gaze going from his grandfather to Carson and back again. The old man was talking in riddles.
"How far along are you, my dear?" Aleksander Sarkozy asked, as he drew alongside Carson. He removed Marek's arms and turned her to face him. Taking her hands in his, he asked, "Or do you not know?"
She gave a small shake of her head, her cheeks going pink as her mouth opened into a small 'o.'
"Symptoms?" the old man asked, grinning.
She nodded. "I just didn't realize." She glanced at Marek. "I thought you... I thought you were sterile. Marek said cursed."
Marek was stunned. He could barely breathe. How had the old man noticed, when he'd had her in his arms not too long ago and hadn't picked up on a thing.
But then he frowned and scented the air.
It was that musky scent again. He had noticed it earlier, but he hadn't registered what it was. He'd bought into the whole curse thing so well that even when it was staring him in his face, he hadn't realized she was pregnant.
"Yes. Unfortunately we are cursed. But I think I've figured out something small."
"Which is?" asked Marek.
"A loophole, I believe."
"A loophole?" asked Carson and Marek in unison.
Marek's grandfather nodded. "Yes. I do believe the curse was placed on the bears. Only the bears."
Then he turned and headed into the small lounge, leaving Marek and Carson staring at each other. Marek wasn't sure who was more shocked at the turn of events.
He looked at Carson. "Are you okay? Do you need anything?" He pulled a chair away from the table.
But she just laughed. "I'm pregnant, you idiot, not dying."
He let out a breath as he walked up to her
, placing a hand on her belly. Soon it would be rounded, swelling with life. Something he never thought would happen, least of all to him.
He looked down at her smiling face.
"What?
"You remember you said dealing with shifters wouldn't be easy?"
He nodded.
She shrugged. "Dealing with shifters can't be any harder than dealing with males."
He laughed and held her close, knowing he'd finally found his mate.
And she was his for life.
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About the Author – Meredith Clarke
Meredith Clarke likes long walks in the trees and drinking sangria. Yeah for real. Like Edward Sparkly Cullen style. She writes alpha male yet cuddly characters and the hot women that love them. Open a book or two, eat a s'more, and cuddle up with the men of Meredith Clarke.
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A Siren for the Bear (Sarkozy Brothers Book 1) Page 9
