He led her into the house and moved into the background. Ajax and Sara Beth had been friends since they started walking, so Patrick knew his queen was perfectly safe with her. Nico, arms now free, stepped up to his side.
“Where’s Alex?” Patrick asked.
“Nap,” Nico answered. “One minute she’s babbling away and the next she’s out cold.”
It might have sounded like a complaint but it was impossible to miss the fatherly pride. Patrick smiled. Alex charmed everyone who knew her.
“Not who I was expecting,” Nico said, nodding toward their visitor. Patrick couldn’t keep his eyes off her. He wondered if he’d ever get over the compulsion.
“Sara Beth Reynard,” he answered. “She’s the werefox alpha’s daughter.”
“Ajax’s school friend. She never comes up here.”
No she didn’t, Patrick acknowledged, and realized Nico must have met her someplace else. He knew his queen and Sara Beth saw each other in town on rare occasions, but mostly communicated by email and phone. Patrick had never wondered why before but with each hostile look the werefox gave him, his curiosity grew.
“She’s very pretty,” Nico said noncommittally.
Though the two of them had worked out their distrust of each other years ago, Patrick had a damned hard time not lunging for his friend. Nico had the gall to laugh.
“Well, isn’t this interesting?” Nico drawled.
“It’s nothing,” he snapped.
“Really?” Nico cocked his head to the side, a gesture like that of a cat. “So I should call one of the soldiers to handle this protection detail?”
“Do it and I’ll break the no killing the consort rule,” he growled.
Nico laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
“I have no idea what I’m doing,” he muttered, knowing he was acting out of character.
He should let Nico call someone else in. His response to her presence was too intense and inexplicable. She was hot but he knew plenty of hot women. What was it about this one that was so different? The more he thought about it, the less he cared. They were both adults. She glanced over at him, heat flaring in her eyes. There was no way he was letting her out of his sight, and hopefully his bed, until he figured out what it was that drew him so strongly.
“Damn,” he murmured.
Nico stepped in front of him, blocking his view of the women. Patrick would have snapped if not for the serious look on his friend’s face. “What?”
“You can work out seduction plans later. Right now,” he said with a glance over his shoulder, “we need to find out what’s going on. What happened that they had to send her here?”
That question sent the closest thing to panic he’d ever known shooting through him. Sweet Hermes, how had he forgotten that? He followed Nico to the sofa where the women sat in time to overhear the end of the conversation.
“I can’t stay here, Ajax. You have a family to protect.”
“Our lands are the safest in the country.”
Patrick watched Sara Beth press her lips together and give a small shake of her head. “Still, I won’t take that risk.”
“Don’t worry, foxy,” he said, stepping closer. “You won’t put them in danger. You’re coming home with me.” He looked up as the door opened and Michael and Hector stepped inside. “Now would someone please tell me what I’m protecting you against?”
Instead of answering, Sara Beth opened her backpack, pulled out a sketchpad and tore out a page. She handed it to Ajax. “He tried to kidnap me this afternoon.”
It took a second for her words to register and when they did Patrick wasn’t sure if it was wrath or fear that filled him. He felt like a vice had clamped around his heart. He was torn between rushing out to find the monster or grabbing her and running to hide her away. When he realized his hands were shaking, he took a deep breath and regained control.
“And before anyone asks,” she said, “we have no idea who he is. But it isn’t the tabloid reporter who’s been writing about me.”
Ajax handed the sketch to Nico. Patrick stepped up next to him to look. The first thing he noticed was Sara Beth was quite good at capturing the menace in the man’s eyes. They were a little crinkled, lines on the side indicating he was older, but she’d somehow put a mean glint in them. Patrick would put him in his early fifties. His features were just shy of too sharp. He looked distinguished and cold.
“I’ll run it through the facial recognition program,” Nico said. “Hopefully we’ll get a hit.”
Sara Beth told them exactly what had happened, and when she finished, Nico turned to Michael. “Did your wolves see how he got away? A vehicle?”
He shook his head. “No, but we emailed the sketch to the pack. If anyone sees him, we’ll know.”
A sudden gust of wind buffeted the house. “That’s my cue to leave,” Michael said. “I need to get home before snow closes the road up here.”
Hector accompanied him and a few minutes later, when Patrick guided Sara Beth out to go to his place, the werewolf and wereleopard were still huddled together at the ATVs whispering.
“It’s weird enough they’re friends,” Sara Beth muttered. “Now they’re keeping secrets? That can’t bode well.”
It was a damned strange friendship, werewolves and wereleopards having been enemies for centuries. Patrick had become accustomed to them though, so he almost dismissed Sara Beth’s comment as coming from someone who just hadn’t seen them together much. On closer observation, however, there was definitely a furtiveness to the other men. He wondered what they were discussing. If it was anything to do with Sara Beth or the pack, he needed to know about it. Unfortunately, they noticed they were being watched and before he could butt in, they mounted the ATVs and left. He shrugged off the odd behavior—frankly, it wasn’t that odd—and turned her toward the path home.
Chapter Three
Ten minutes later, Patrick ushered Sara Beth into his home. He was on edge, his body tense and ready for action. He wasn’t sure if it was from fear for her or fury at the people stalking her. But he was damned sure of one thing: nothing and no one would threaten her again as long as he lived. The need to ensure this was a living crazed beast in his chest. He wasn’t sure how he breathed. And he hadn’t even fucked her yet. He was nowhere near having that kind of trust from her. Tonight he’d be happy if she’d just let him hold her. He wanted a lot more, but this wasn’t really about him, was it? Not after what she’d been going through.
“Nice place,” she said.
She was focused on her surroundings, but he wasn’t sure if it was because she was truly interested or if she was trying to ignore him. As they’d talked with the others, he’d felt an attraction growing with her but it had seemed one-sided. Maybe she wasn’t as unaffected as she pretended, but he was pretty sure pushing her was a bad idea for now. He followed her lead and looked around his place, prepared to give her the grand tour, such as it was.
The house, like everything on the mountain slope, was built high in the trees. It was where he stayed when he was down slope, but it wasn’t his official residence as the Queen’s First Consul. He’d never felt at home there. It was huge. It was meant for a big family that had friends stopping by all the time.
“It’s mine,” he said self-consciously. “But it isn’t my official residence. When I take a mate, we’ll have to move in there.”
“Hmm,” she murmured. “What a shame. There’s a lot to be said for small and cozy. But I guess someone in your position doesn’t get to choose, huh?”
He cocked his head and watched as she walked around. The house had only one bedroom and the rest of the space was an open kitchen, eating and living area. It was about nine-hundred square feet, but since there were few walls it had always felt bigger to him.
She trailed her fingers along the back of a sofa and finally looked over at him with a serious expression. “You don’t live here. Not really.”
“You’r
e right. It’s mine but I don’t spend a lot of time here.” He paused, wondering how to draw her out, expose the real woman she’d so far kept well hidden. “You design the houses your family builds, right?”
“Yep.”
“You think a person’s house says something about them?”
One corner of her mouth kicked up, a half smile that made his heart stutter. “Yes, I do.”
“What does mine say about me?” he asked.
She shrugged. “Like I said, it may be yours, but you don’t live here. White walls, beige carpet, brown leather furniture and nothing personal. You really expect me to believe Mr. Flamboyant lives here?”
He wasn’t sure if he should be insulted or amused. “I prefer to be on the mountain with the rest of the Guard, but my place is by my queen’s side.”
Sara Beth gave him that adorable frown again. “Why aren’t y’all up there? After what happened to her father and with her cousin, I’d expect Ajax to keep her babies as secluded and safe as possible.”
He was a little surprised to hear that from her. Sara Beth’s father was an alpha. Alphas didn’t back down or retreat. As for Ajax, her father had been assassinated when she was young, and her cousin had tried to kill her a few years ago, but he was no longer a threat to anyone. And Ajax didn’t have a submissive bone in her body. “You’d have her retreat?”
Sara Beth shook her head. “Protecting your children is not retreat.”
He had to give her that, but he also needed her to understand she was entering a more dominant world. Something told him she could hold her own, no problem.
“We would all prefer the princesses were up there with the Guard. Their father is more comfortable with them closer to the ground though.”
She frowned. “They’re eaglets. Height isn’t a problem.”
“Nico is a leopard. Explain that to him,” he said dryly.
“I bet that was a shock for him. Eaglets instead of cubs,” she said, amusement in her voice and lighting her eyes.
He got the impression she and Ajax had already laughed over this a time or two.
“What would we have, do you think?” he asked before he could stop himself. He’d surprised himself with the question, was even more surprised at how much he wanted to hear her answer. His eagle side seemed to wait in hushed silence. Anticipating, eager.
She snorted. “A fox and an eagle? Are you nuts? We’re natural enemies, remember?”
“You’re only part fox and I’m only part eagle. And my queen is mated to a leopard,” he reminded her.
“Yeah,” she muttered. “He’s a bit higher on the food chain.”
“Does that worry you, foxy?” he asked, letting his voice deepen and his desire seep through. He refused to let anyone else guard her, but he wasn’t sure he’d survive such close proximity, himself. Certainly not without touching her, without claiming the woman he wanted to be exclusively his.
He stared at her with sudden clarity. This wasn’t just great chemistry in the making. The instinct that drove him to get to know her better would only intensify and could only mean one thing.
But what the hell did he know about being a mate?
Someone had to die, but she couldn’t decide who should go first. The list was growing. Some asshole had attacked her. Her father and Michael had insisted she come here. And now Patrick, the grown-up teenage crush from Hell, was…she wasn’t sure what. He wasn’t exactly flirting, was he? But he seemed to be trying to engage her on a personal level she knew she shouldn’t allow. If he wanted to hop into bed, she was so there. But she wasn’t about to get emotionally involved with an adrenaline-junkie eagle.
On second thought, sex was probably a bad idea. She might not be able to protect her heart if he touched her, if she gave in to the desire to feel him over her—moving in her. It would probably be a colossal mistake.
She was a fox, for crissakes. She did home and hearth and she did it damned well, thank you very much. She wanted comfort and warmth and a man who was devoted to her because of it. Patrick would never be that man, which was a cryin’ shame, but as her favorite aunt always said, “Life’s a bitch and then you die.”
The hell of it was Patrick was the only man who’d ever tempted her wild side. He hadn’t noticed her since the day he’d gone off to college, three years before her. She hadn’t been as blind. And this was who she got stuck with as a bodyguard? Hell with that. Two days tops and she was going home. She’d hire someone if she had to. There were plenty of werewolves in the personal protection business.
Actually, if she’d been thinking straight, that would have occurred to her earlier. She was an idiot and irritated with herself so she might have been a bit testy when she asked about sleeping arrangements. It all went downhill from there.
“Where is the guest room?”
“There’s only one bedroom in the house,” he said. “We’ll be sharing.”
Oh fuck no. She might think about trying him on for size, but she knew the danger to her heart. “I’ll take the couch.”
“The hell you will,” he snapped.
“Does that mean you will?” she asked, sweetly even though she could tell by his scent and expression he intended to sleep with her. More than sleep. His arousal was rich and masculine. Seductive.
“You’re pushing it, foxy.”
“Don’t call me that,” she bit out. Gods, she hated that nickname. “Frankly, it’s insulting. You called me that when I was an unattractive kid you wanted to get rid of. It isn’t getting you anywhere now, I promise.”
She just wanted to go home. For some reason, her ego was more bruised now than right after the attempted kidnapping. It took every ounce of her control not to respond when he stepped closer and stroked his hands up her arms.
“You were beautiful. Why do you think I called you that? So sensual, so sexy and so damned young,” he whispered. “You scared me. You made me feel things I wasn’t supposed to feel. You were too young for me then.”
She wrenched out of his grasp and knew her smile was saccharine sweet, totally fake. “I’m still too young for you. You can take the couch.”
She tried to stalk away before he could protest, but she wasn’t fast enough. He stopped the bedroom door from shutting with ease, slapping his palm against it as she tried to push it closed. There was no way she could compete with his strength and she didn’t see the point in embarrassing herself by trying. She set her hands on her hips and used the look her brothers called the death glare. Unfortunately, it didn’t have much effect on a tall, well-built wereeagle. And why the hell were eagles so damned tall when she was cursed with shortness?
“What’s that look for?” His expression may have been calm, but she was pleased to hear the exasperation in his tone.
“Do you have to keep looming over me?” She waved her hands in a shooing motion. The sun had set hours ago. She just wanted to change and curl up in bed. “Go away. It’s been one annoying thing after the other today and you’re making it worse.”
He arched an eyebrow, pale blond and as perfectly sculpted as the rest of him. His hair was pulled back, but she guessed it was about shoulder length loose. And those eyes…bright, shocking blue. He was tall, his body roped with muscles she wanted to explore. He was disgustingly good-looking and if he got serious about seducing her she knew her resistance would turn to dust with the slightest effort on his part. It wasn’t fair, was it?
“First of all, I don’t loom,” he said. “Second, I am not leaving you alone.”
She wanted to scream. Or throw something at him. “Why am I with you anyway? You’re Ajax’s senior advisor. Bodyguard duty isn’t exactly in your job description, is it?”
“No one else can keep you as safe as I can,” he said, arrogant and haughty.
“Wow. Does that hurt?”
He looked confused. “What?”
“Carrying around a head swelled that big.”
At first he looked stunned. She doubted anyone ever gave him grief over anything.
Then he stunned her. He laughed, deep and full, totally genuine. When he reached for her, it didn’t occur to her to dodge. He held her close with one hand on her ass and the other on the back of her head. As she became aware of every hard inch of his body, he fell silent.
“You are something else, baby,” he whispered.
His eyes darkened to a stormy blue, the skin around them pinched tight as if he was under a great strain. His head lowered, his lips moving closer to hers slowly enough she could turn her head and struggle free. If she’d had an ounce of self-preservation, that was exactly what she’d have done. She had more curiosity, though. She’d imagined what his kisses would be like, and even though she had no knowledge, she’d compared the kisses of other men to her fantasy. Now was her chance to find out.
She closed her eyes and felt the softest touch against her lids before his lips touched hers. His tongue stroked the seam until she opened for him. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected. It wasn’t the slow, tender exploration she got.
“We shouldn’t do this,” she murmured a protest, even though she yearned for deep, drugging kisses.
“Why not?”
“We don’t know each other. We’re practically strangers.”
“That’s crazy, Sara Beth. I’ve known you your whole life,” he said.
“Not well enough for this.”
“What is it you think this is, baby?” he asked so gently she thought the pressure on her chest would make it cave in.
Patrick didn’t hang on when she pulled away. She walked to the window, crossed her arms over her chest, and stared outside. Her posture was solitary, almost sad. He couldn’t stand it.
“I don’t do casual sex,” she said suddenly. “One night stands, weekend flings. I don’t do that kind of thing.”
Now he was insulted. He knew they were meant to be together. How could she not? Okay, he’d only just come to that conclusion. Maybe she didn’t see it yet. He knew it didn’t work the same for every couple. Some mates knew each other when they met. Others took longer to realize or accept it.
Secret Passions: Forbidden Passions, Book 5 Page 2
