by Anna Craig
Tamsin's chest heaved from the exertion of her words and the force of the emotion behind them. Despite herself, she was shocked at her own vehemence.
And she certainly did not miss the way Jackson's gaze slid straight down to her breasts, barely encased in the elegant, lightweight summer dress she wore, before snapping back up to her face again. Despite the ridiculously female response she had to his obvious glance, she made herself laugh with a derisive edge to it. "Really, Jackson? You're going to ogle my breasts just like you do with every other woman? As if I'm some sort of piece of meat you can have, like the rest of them? That doesn't work on me, and you know it."
Now it was Jackson's turn to bark out laughter. He lounged against the railing of the balcony, looking just like a cat with cream. The fact that he was enjoying their little interaction enraged Tamsin even more. She glared up at him, which was also annoying because she had to look so far up. Jackson towered over her by at least a foot. Tall, muscled, supremely self-assured of his looks, his presence, and his power, he appeared to be not remotely concerned by her anger. Even so, she thought she detected the slightest edge to his voice as well when he answered her.
"Tam, you know I—"
She sharply cut him off. "Do not call me that. My name is Tamsin."
The faintest crinkle at the corners of his eyes as he narrowed them didn't come because he had to squint to the sunlight of the beautiful day. No, she'd struck a nerve. Satisfied, Tamsin gave him the tiniest bit of a snarky smile. Ha. Take that, O Jackson the amazing.
"All right then. Tamsin," he emphasized her name with a slight lift of his eyebrows at her, "I would never dream of checking you out as I do to apparently every single other woman who ever crosses my path. I value my friendship with the alpha much too highly to ever treat his sister like a," he paused and looked into the distance, ostentatiously searching for an answer. "Oh, right. A piece of meat, did you say?"
This time, his smile held the slightest bit of danger. Tamsin still glared. In the moment, she rather pitied the fact that there were no such things as dragon shifters. Because she was pretty damn sure she felt steam coming out of her ears. And if she could shift into a dragon right now and scare the spit out of Jackson Rule, she would die a happy woman.
Damn the arrogant bastard, who was sexier than any man had a right to be. Damn her own stupidly female reaction to him.
Damn, damn, damn. This was nothing but trouble.
~~~
It took every single ounce of Jackson's self-control to not pounce on Tamsin and do something to her. To her lips, which were full and pouty and so ridiculously kissable it was half killing him to keep the three feet of distance between them.
This was not good. Not good at all. He still didn't know what the hell was wrong with him, but he had to get hold of himself, and fast. Deliberately provoking her, watching the explosion of emotions spread across her face, and knowing that he was goading her into doing or saying something she would never do or say in front of anyone else was making him extremely happy for some deranged reason. Jackson let his mocking little half-smile widen just a touch, careful to not let it overtake his entire face. Tamsin needed something from him, and who know what the hell it was.
Her breasts again swelled in the most distracting fashion as she took a breath to speak. He forced himself to keep his gaze on her face. That wasn't a really difficult proposition, actually. Like all wolf shifters, Tamsin was incredibly beautiful. She proudly wore her lush curves, unlike most female shifters, who usually chose to mask any perceived imperfections with a hint of illusionary shifter magic. Something about Tamsin's particular beauty called to Jackson more so than any other woman in recent months. Her delicate yet strong features could divert any ramada of ships, her violet-blue eyes were enough to stop a man's heart with a single glance, and her dark, wavy hair was just the right length for Jackson to be able to run his fingers through and lightly hold as he pulled her toward him for kiss.
Wait. No, what the hell was he thinking? This had to stop. This was insanity.
"Yes, Jackson, a piece of meat,” she snapped. “You look at women as if they're simply something to be used. Don't think I don't notice that." Those gorgeous eyes pinned him with the fury of her passion about the subject.
Jackson kept his voice casual and his stance relaxed despite the crazy direction of his thoughts. "Tamsin, don't let your brother overhear you. Those words are dangerously modern. Besides, I haven't seen you protesting the pack's century-old use of surrenders. Or," he shifted tactics, quite enjoying this repartee, "is it Cassandra? It didn't quite escape me that she was a surrender who has become our alpha's mate. Does this indicate a change in the staid old Wicked Mountain Wolf Pack?"
Oh, now he'd done it.
Tamsin's breath exploded out of her. She practically spat at him like an adorable, enraged little wildcat. "Are you questioning how this pack is run? Today, of all days? Did you lose every last brain cell you possess during your little fuck fest?"
Tamsin cut herself off so abruptly he thought she might bite her own tongue. A flush rose over her face, and Jackson was caught by her beauty once again.
"I mean," she stumbled over her own words.
Jackson couldn't help himself from playing with her more. "I suppose you could call it that. But I don't think I lost any brain cells along the way. Seems to me, however, that you're pretty damn concerned about how I spend my vacation. You never worried this much before about my activities with other women."
Tamsin's eyes narrowed at him, and he almost thought she was about to combust. Fine. So he was still pissing her off. It was ridiculous to think of her as anything more than a longstanding, trusted advisor in the small inner circle that ruled the pack. Even so, he couldn't deny it was a hell of a lot of fun to be this close to Tamsin again. Breathing in her beautiful scent. Being more aware of her presence than of any other shifter in the place.
Being so distinctly aware of every inch of her beautifully exposed flesh that he could think of hardly anything else. Jackson forced himself to breathe steadily and calmly. Fine. So he had screwed half the Atlantic seaboard during his vacation. She had dared him to. Besides, Tamsin was a shifter. She wasn't celibate herself. And even more besides. She was his alpha's sister. Totally off-limits. He wasn't allowed to—
"No." The word growled out of him, low and rumbling through his frame.
Tamsin's eyes widened in abrupt confusion. She tilted back just a fraction on the high heels that showed off her luscious legs. "No what?" she asked.
"No," he said slowly, scrambling for a way to cover up his ridiculous gaffe. He couldn't very well admit he'd been thinking about claiming every inch of her body.Redirect! "Ah,” he said, drawing out the word for quite a bit longer than necessary as he scrambled for a way to swerve the conversation. “Ah. Yes.”
Tamsin looked at him as if he'd lost his mind.
“No,” he said more firmly, grabbing onto something, “I don't actually think this pack has changed all that much yet. Cassandra might be very good for our alpha, as everyone keeps telling me, but Trevor won't become a different person overnight."
Tamsin closed her eyes for a moment, most of the fight suddenly leaving her. Jackson kept himself still as he watched her. He was aware of the heavy summer air, the lush, wild scents from the gardens and the forest surrounding the estate wafting in on the slight breeze, and the sounds of laughter and voices from inside where the party continued. It blended together with Tamsin's own scent. Sweet nectar and honey, dark, rich spices, and something else that tingled along his nerve endings, urging him to just reach out and touch her.
His senses were being overloaded. He forced himself to simply breathe and not move as he waited for her to answer.
Finally, she said, "You're right. Trevor probably won't change that much. But Cassie is incredibly good for him. He has changed in some ways.” Very quietly, she said, “He's not carrying his grief around anymore the way he was."
Her voice was so low Jac
kson knew he was the only living being who could possibly hear her right now. This was something they never discussed publicly. To hear her bring it up at all was very interesting. She still trusted him.
"But," she went on, voice hardening, "he's still our alpha, Jackson. He still has an enormous pack to rule. And he needs you and I to be there for him. We can't be like this. We need to be focused and steady."
Jackson raised his eyebrows. Despite his own urgings to be still, he couldn't help but ask, “Be like this? What exactly does that mean? What exactly,” he leaned a little closer to her and her spicy-sweet scent, “is this, anyway?”
Tamsin caught her lower lip in her teeth and nibbled. Jackson literally felt reason walk right out of his brain at the sight. He stared at her mouth without even trying to cover up the direction of his gaze. Only when she spoke did he look back up at her eyes again.
“This is nothing, Jackson.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “And we need to keep it that way.”
Her violet-blue eyes stayed locked on his for a long moment as the words hung in the air between them. An unusually vulnerable expression bloomed over her face, catching Jackson's breath in his throat at the suddenly raw hunger he saw there. Pure, aching, genuine desire.
For him.
Before he could process what he was seeing, Tamsin gave her head a short, decisive shake. Wrenching her gaze away from his, she simply turned and walked back inside. Leaving Jackson standing alone, somewhat dazed, still wondering what the hell was going on.
Because whatever it was, it was definitely a hell of a lot more than nothing.
Chapter Four
"And don't forget about the latest petition from the Lost River Fork pack. They're still asking for protected status." Slight annoyance creased Trevor's brow. "I also left you notes—"
"Trevor." Tamsin put her hand on her brother's arm as Cassie unsuccessfully stifled a smile at her mate's last-minute directives. "You know perfectly well you've left the pack in good hands. Now, shoo. I'm sure the pilot doesn't want to be kept around all day waiting for you."
Trevor drew breath as if to speak again, but Tamsin quickly reached forward to peck him on the cheek with a sisterly kiss. "I have every single note you have left me," she said firmly, nodding to the car driver to open the door for her so she could get back in. "Every single text, every single email, and the notes from every single sit-down meeting you and I and Jackson have had"—and really, did a little thrill have to zip through her just thinking about that damned man?—"is emblazoned on my brain. You deserve this vacation. You deserve this honeymoon with your beautiful, blushing bride."
Cassie laughed and began tugging Trevor towards the plane. "She's right. They've got it! Let's go. You've been doing nothing but telling me about how amazing Europe is for the last hour." The honeymoon destination had been a surprise to Cassie, one Trevor had revealed to her only as they and Tamsin were being whisked to the airport in one of the pack's large black suburbans. "I can't wait. You know perfectly well I've never been out of Wicked Mountain Town."
Tamsin didn't bother to hide her smile as Cassie narrowed her eyes at her mate. "You and I have a lot of talking to do about the so-called 'glamour' that's on my town." A flash of playful challenge from Cassie's new wolf side flared in her expression as she looked at her mate, though the smile hadn't left her lips. "When we get back, there are going to be some changes happening in the pack."
Once again Trevor made as if to speak, but this time both women went after him, Cassie pulling and Tamsin pushing on his back to urge him toward the private jet awaiting them. "Go, Trevor," Tamsin said, laughing. "It's only a month. You and Cassie have the rest of your lives to run the pack. I don't want to hear anything from you while you're gone, unless it's pictures of the two of you smiling in front of all the great sights of Europe. Understood?"
Trevor finally gave up, letting his new wife pulled him toward the plane. "Fine," he said over his shoulder to his sister, a genuine smile breaking out across his features. "Yes, of course I trust you and Jackson. Implicitly," he added, laughing now as Cassie picked up her steps into a little trot, still tugging him along. “I know I'm leaving the pack in excellent hands.”
Tamsin kept smiling and waving at them from her where she stood by the car. Firmly, she stamped down an image of Jackson's exceedingly charming, utterly captivating smile as it flashed through her head.
"Of course you can trust us," she called after her brother. "Have fun!" Tamsin didn't bother waiting to watch them board the pack's private jet. With a smile and last wave at their retreating backs, she turned back toward the waiting vehicle, where the driver stood holding the back door open for her. Sliding into the plush, leathered recesses of the car, she smiled her thanks at the driver, then immediately turned her attention back down to her phone and the endless lists and emails she had on it.
As the driver shut the door and got in behind the wheel to take her on the hours-long drive back to the pack estate, Tamsin sighed, letting the smile fade from her face. Endless responsibilities loomed up in black-and-white as she stared at her phone screen. Meetings, delegating, overseeing, mediation, punishment, multiple petitions from pack members, town members, the adjacent Lost River Fork Pack, and seemingly endless different lists from Trevor of certain things he expected her and Jackson to accomplish while they ruled the pack in his stead while he was off enjoying his new wife and bouncing around the playgrounds of Europe for a month.
Tamsin didn't begrudge him his happiness, not for single heartbeat. She'd been Cassie's most ardent supporter from the moment she realized that Cassie was Trevor's true mate. Nothing in the world made her happier than seeing her brother and alpha once again happy to be alive. She also had a wonderful, steadfast new sister again. It all made her happier than anything in the world.
It also left with such a multitude of tasks over the next four weeks that she felt positively exhausted just thinking about it. She planned to use the sanctuary of the quiet drive back to sort out the specifics of the rest of her day and the rest of this first week.
And, of course, to consider everything she would have to do with Jackson. Together. Because he was in charge with her.
Dammit.
She'd studiously avoided Jackson the rest of the night of the wedding. Her duty to her pack was paramount, and Tamsin took it very seriously. The Reginald family had been in charge of the Wicked Mountain Wolf Pack for the past 500 years. Tamsin wasn't about to let a slow-grinning, heart-thumping, panty-melting bad boy of wolf disrupt her concentration or the importance of her duty to her alpha in her pack. Nope. Not a chance of that. No way was Jackson Rule, with his sexy green eyes and honey-laced gravel voice, going to distract her from her duties.
She was much too strong and self-controlled for that kind of nonsense. With a determined sigh, she tackled the first demanding email on her list, pushing aside all thoughts of wickedly teasing green eyes.
~~~
Even though the sun had long set, the night air was still warm on this late-summer night. Tamsin had her head propped up on one hand as she read through a stack of petitions. With her other hand she scrawled her initials on each one, yay or nay as she saw fit. She'd spent the last several hours very carefully reading the details of each petition in the online files accessible only to her and the rest of the council members. The printed signature pages made up a stack nearly an inch thick. Trevor had left her with his decisive notes on each petition as to whether or not he thought it should be granted.
Petitions were an extremely old-fashioned method of arguing a case for what someone wanted. But the system worked. Despite her somewhat bleary-eyed state, Tamsin plowed through. She wanted to finish them tonight, so she could bring them to the Council meeting in the morning as completed documents. Heaving a sigh, she got back to it.
Another twenty minutes passed before she could finally set down her pen. Gently rolling her head about on her shoulders, she finally sat up and stretched. Her neck and back twinged at her, let
ting her know that sitting for so many hours bent over paperwork was not the ideal situation. Her stomach rumbled as well. Tamsin glanced at the clock on the wall above her desk. Nearly 2a.m. If she really wanted to, she could wake up one of the kitchen staff and have them bring her a snack. But that never had been Tamsin's style, not even in the premodern era when a household full of servants was de rigueur. Instead, she rolled her chair back from her desk and padded out of her office to head down the long hallway and then downstairs to the kitchen.
The estate's main kitchen was an enormous, state-of-the-art affair filled with every kind of modern gizmo that struck the fancy of the chef and her staff, as well as several walk-in coolers and freezers, a temperature controlled wine room filled with hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of the best vintages, and the fanciest commercial coffee and espresso maker available on the market, among other toys. This main kitchen always had a selection of quick food available to anyone who needed a snack, no matter the time of day or night. Werewolves had large appetites.
