by Avery Duncan
“In pleasure?”
He smirked.
Chapter 17
Raffaele stared into striking green eyes that he knew could become his permanent solace if only he had the will to let it happen. Anger, passion hiding in her eyes, and the look that she would cut him into little pieces if she got the chance did nothing for his libido. In fact, it might have made it worse.
Amused, he leaned down closer, knowing that Romero was too busy studying the scene to notice their antics. Her slim finger came up to stab him in the chest; he only wished that she would touch him in other places.
"Actually, no," she said, lip moving to pout mode even though she still sounded angry. A gust of wind blew part of her long pony tail into her face and she swiped at it angrily.
He chuckled at her, nudging under her chin. "Don't act so tough when the wolf is ready to hunt, babe," he warned, flashing a fang charmingly
Her chin jutted into the air haughtily. "I do believe that you aren't a wolf or any sort of animal like that, Mr. Jaques."
Raff shrugged carelessly. "Whatever suits you, Ms. Waters."
He watched her eyes widen right as a paw of a hand clamped down on his shoulder. Freezing, all expression dropping from his face, he turned slowly to meet familiar forest eyes.
Pissed off forest eyes.
"I see your paws on my baby sister again, I'm going to chop them off and give them to her daddy," the big guy growled, eyes flashing to a threatening black color.
Instead of coming to his aid, the brunette imp behind him started to laugh and as much as he found the sound pleasing, he was pretty sure no one would be laughing when the man's hand was down his own throat.
Raff snarled at the feel of hands on him, shaking them off and balling his fists. Right when he would have given a fear-inducing threat, Romero came over to clap the man's shoulder. "Got here fast enough," he said sarcastically, looking the man up and down, considering.
Ulrich crossed his arms over his shoulders defensively. "Macy didn't want to wake up," he said as an excuse, then practically forgot the man as he walked over to his sister.
They hugged, Ulrich's more gentler than it would have been if it had been glass he had been hugging. "How was the rest of your night?" Raff heard him ask, which piked his curiosity.
He stared over the man's boulder shoulders at Mary, noting the bags and wary glances around her. Not as she had been yesterday, she was more… emotional, more prone to jump to conclusions; which was exactly what she had done when he had gotten out of the car.
Raff had noticed the scared look in her eye, the waver in her voice, the hesitancy in her movements. He had also noticed the damned wrap around her hand.
"What happened to your hand?" Ulrich asked sharply, bringing the appendage up for his inspection.
She looked uneasy. "I dropped something this morning, no big deal."
Ulrich's eyes narrowed on the small woman—well, at least small for them. Compared to a human female, she was taller, close to the average height of a man instead of a woman.
Not that that was a bad thing, he mused silently, eyes trailing down her body. Her long legs were encased in black slacks, a trim white over-coat hugging her breasts and waist. Maybe on the big side of breasts, the outfit looked splendid on her, with her hair pulled back into a curly pony tail, barely any make-up on that he could see.
Ulrich sighed. "We'll talk about this later. I have the men at your house setting up the cameras right now, so when you get back there should be some things that you'll need to do and they said that they're willing to wait. I need to talk to Romero for a bit about this, then call my secretary and have her print out some forms…" he trailed off when he saw Raffaele watching them.
The man's eye twitched and he looked at Mary. "You don't talk to him."
With that, he walked off, leaving a confused Mary and an amused Raffaele.
“That’s my brother,” she said, coming up to him and ignoring the man’s order.
“I figured that,” he said darkly, staring after the man with murder in his eyes.
Mary fidgeted with her hands, kicking the dirt. “Think Imming wants to talk to us about something,” she said, gesturing to a man with a camera who was taking snapshots of the scene.
He nodded, motioning for her to walk.
“Hi, Mary,” he said, giving a sheepish smile.
She smiled back briefly. “Find anything of interest?” she asked, walking around him and examining the places that he was taking pictures of.
He shook his head, shrugged. “Not yet, even if I did I doubt the man would pay attention to it. I’m just a lackey,” he said bitterly, taking another shot.
“That’s what he thinks, and don’t mind Romero. The jerk has his head up his ass,” she laughed, earning a smile in reply.
“Thanks, Mary. So what have you been up to?” he asked cautiously, giving Raff a nervous glare that he greatly returned with ten times as much coldness.
“Trying to stay alive.” The mutter went unnoticed by the younger man, but Raffaele heard it plain as day and could have growled.
Small, stumpy, and hair sprouting in places that it obviously shouldn’t be, he had a greasy look about him that set Raffaele off, and not just because it was apparent that he had an interest in Mary—okay, only a small part of it was because of that.
Imming, as she had called him, smelled. . .normal, human, so the threat of him encroaching on what Raff considered to be his was non-existent. He might have only known her for a day, and he was only going to be seeing her till this was over, he planned to stake his claim for the time being and let them both get the sexual tension out.
The smell of her was strong as he stood behind her, the wind blowing her earthy raspberry scent full force into him. Raff wished it didn’t have to be so easy to enjoy her, the way her hair danced with the wind, the way she stayed in his mind.
He would forget her, later. But for now, he planned to chase tail.
Mary’s head bent, and he stepped closer when he saw Imming move in. The man backed up slightly, giving the man a superior look. Raff was dressed in black slacks and with a dark blue Armani button up and a tie, so he had no clue what he thought was so great about the small guy.
“I think I need to go,” she said, looking back up. The hand that held her phone dropped to her side.
“I’ll take you,” Raff said automatically, thinking of how she had walked.
“It’s fine,” she said, irritated.
“Go tell your brother and Romero that we’re leaving,” he ordered, putting his hands in his pocket for his keys.
She glared at him. “I think that I can take care of myself well enough to walk home without a stalker.”
“I’ll be any kind of stalker you want me to be—hell, I’ll even sniff your panties if you want me too—but you aren’t walking home and that’s that,” he said, voice ringing with finality.
Mary growled, but walked through the people to her brother, who was bending over the gas circle. He looked up and his eyes immediately latched onto Raffale, who knew he was standing way to close for Mary’s or Ulrich’s comfort. Mentally, he laughed.
“What’s up.” He was talking to his sister, but his eyes never left Raff.
“I’m going home,” she started, “and he offered to take me.” It was wise of her to leave out that he hadn’t really “offered”, so much as forced her.
“I can take you,” he said, curling his lip at the taller, darker man as he stood to his full height with the grace of a predator.
Romero broke in by saying, “I need you here for the examiner, chief. You know you can’t leave when we have cases like this.”
Ulrich paused, then growled low in his throat at Raff. “He drops you off and then comes back here. Call me when you’re done with the security guys.”
Mary rolled her eyes. “Knock it off, brother. I haven’t seen you act like this since high school.”
He ignored her by saying to Raff, “Five minutes.”
Quiet and awkward, the car ride was short and worse than he had predicted to be. Raff hoped that Ulrich realized that he wasn’t going to follow his orders, but intended to stay for as long as he could.
He tried telling himself that it was because she could be in danger, but knew he was only lying to himself. The beauty of her forest eyes entranced him, the fire in her made him burn, and the heat of her made him. . .hot.
He parked the car where she told him to, breathing in her sweet scent, and then got out to open her door before she could say anything else. Men were walking around the brown themed house, papers and wires almost falling from several of their hands.
She stepped out slowly, close enough that she was almost sliding against him. He took in a breath, adjusting himself when she wasn’t looking. Her neck looked...delicious, he thought absently, wanting to bite and suck the soft looking flesh.
He let her walk ahead of him, trying to ignore how much the sashay of her walk made it hard for him to walk right.
Chapter 18
“Please sign here,” one of the construction workers said, holding out a clipboard.
She frowned, taking it into her hands. “What’s this?”
Jacques came up behind her, probably scanning the papers.
“Just papers that will verify your identity, that we are within our rights for installing the system on your house, and that you or whoever is paying the bill will pay in full when it comes,” he said, nervously looking behind her.
She rolled her eyes mentally. So far, every man that she has seen around Jacques has either been nervous, or disgusted. What was it about him that she was missing, that others weren’t?
Jaques watched her sign her name and place her initials on the lines where they were asked for. Was it just her, or was he really close to her? Mary didn’t know, but had the urge to step back into his arms.
She handed the clipboard back, watching in faint panic as people ran around her house, hooking cables, setting up posts, and just messing her whole yard up. She was okay with scuffed grass, it could easily grow back and it was almost winter so it would die out soon anyways.
But when one of the men had the gall to get close to her last rose, she let out a screech and could have killed him. “You stay away from that rose, you got me? If one petal is taken off, I will kill you with my bare hands,” she barked, stomping up to him angrily, eyes flashing.
The Acutos raised a lip, revealing a sharp canine, but backed down when his advisor came over, followed by Jacques.
“Something wrong here?” the human man in the suit asked, looking between them.
She took a calming breath. “My plants. My last rose. Don’t touch it, and I won’t commit mass murder.”
“I don’t appreciate you threatening my workers,” the man started, frowning.
“Listen to her,” Jacques growled from behind, earning a dumbfounded re-take.
“Excuse me?” he asked, surprised and offended. “This treatment does not earn for the greatest of quality. . .”
She gasped, outraged. Mary was about to say something when Jaques once again spoke.
“If you place your own ‘head-up-your-ass” attitude before a woman’s safety, I think you need to. . .”
“Mr. Jaques, calm down, it’s fine!” she assured him, breaking him mid-speech. “I was just saying that that rose is very precious to me and he took in the wrong way,” she explained to the human.
His eyes narrowed. “I’m sorry, Ms. Waters,” he said with forced politeness. “He is new to our team, in from Louisiana.”
The Acutos male was staring at her hard, then slowly his expressions evened out. “Waters? Mary Waters?”
She nodded, sighing.
Jaques had stayed quiet before then, his coldness palpable. Except. . .she couldn’t feel it. All she felt was the heat coming off of him and the aura of protectiveness that had her confused.
“I’m sorry, ma’am,” he said, breaking into her thoughts. She waved a hand, looking back at Jacques, who was staring giving looks to the two men.
The two of them were used to order, to people listening to them. It was the only way they could get things done, could get things carried through. She suspected that Jacques wasn’t used to people not listening. He looked like someone who was used to the world revolving around him, used to people being compliant.
Mary could only imagine how much it must grate on him to not do anything, to have no say or power. She smiled inwardly.
After a few tense moments, the two men got back to work, along with everyone else who had stopped for the episode. With keen eyes, she could see claws retracting, breaths being taken, small things that you wouldn’t have seen had you not been looking for it.
Her smile widened, pleased that there had been those ready to protect her. “You can come inside for a drink if you want,” she offered the dark man behind her, who in turn just. . .stared down at her.
For a second, her smile faltered till she received the first actual smile from him that she had ever gotten. Her heart lighted, despite the day. The almost overwhelming urge to grab his hand and drag him inside arose, and she walked inside quickly, suppressing it.
Except, when she walked in side, she stopped dead.
The mess had been cleaned up, but her table and floor were tracked with dirt, leaves, and wires that she wouldn’t even attempt to place.
Jaques followed in behind her, silent, no opinion or questions coming from him.
“I’m. . .sorry about the mess,” she started unevenly, staring around the kitchen with upset and disturbed eyes.
“Don’t worry, I know it’s not your fault,” he murmured, walking to the table. She moved to the counter and opened one of the cupboards, grabbing a cup.
“Water, milk, juice, pop?” she asked, looking over her shoulder at him.
“I’ll just have some water,” he replied with a small smile.
Mary handed him the cup of water, sitting across from him at the table.
Even though she didn’t want to talk about it, it had to be done. It was the reason he was even there, after all.
“After you talked to me yesterday, did you go to Michael?” she asked, finally drawing a non-stoic expression.
“The hell. . . Yeah, I did,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest, disgruntled.
“Okay, and what did you learn from him?” she asked, almost proudly. It always pleased her when she hit the target the first time.
“If you want to know, why can’t you go and ask him yourself?” He raised a brow.
“Because he would run the other direction at the site of me,” she said, the roundness deflating out of her as she remembered the last time she had tried to approach him. The man had crossed himself, as if ridding himself of any evil that may taint her, and then had run away and into the bar—which he had known she wouldn’t walk in to.
This time, both his brows popped. “What did you do? Threaten him with your godly powers?” He laughed.
The sound made her smile, only briefly. He had a deep, rich laugh that when let loose, could be infectious. Mary wondered absently what it would be like to hear him moan, to even make him moan. . .
Her face flamed. Stop it, she snapped at herself, embarrassed.
“No,” she said in a tone that spoke otherwise. Her brows lowered into a glare. “Just tell me what you found out.”
“So demanding,” he murmured, eying her with a hooded gaze.
Her eyes rolled. “I don’t have all day.”
“And I don’t have a very willing mouth,” he retorted, quirky.
Mary resorted to full out glaring, not appreciating the innuendo in the slightest. “I’m the leader here right now, Mr. Jacques. Please do as I say so we can get on with our days.”
Frosty eyes flashed, the brief moment of anger making them arctic.
“Will you let me know if anything comes up?” she asked, getting up to put the cups in the sink.
“If you give me your number, we can set a date up for when he finds something,” he said, the smirk going unnoticed.
Mary turned around, smiling with the wash cloth in her hands. “Sure thing, my phone is in my purse. Just add it to my contacts.” She didn’t bother to correct the misuse of the word “date”. Mary didn’t do dates. Never had, never will.
She turned around as he got her phone out, trusting that he wouldn’t snoop through her belongings. The water was hot in her hands as she cleaned the cups and put them in the dish washer, morning sunlight pouring in from the window.
“All set and done,” he said, standing up with a sigh. “Romero wants me back at the site, no doubt your brother demanding my return.” His eyes flashed.
Mary laughed. “How lovely. . . Well, I’ll see you later.” She walked him to the door, twisting her hands together. Somehow, over the course of the day, their relationship had gone from business to personal, closer.
Not that she was complaining, she thought as she watched his hips as he walked—more like his ass.
Her cheeks flushed.
“Make sure to give me a call if you remember something that I haven’t heard of from the files. I want to get out of here as fast as I can with my uncle coming with me. The sooner this is solved, the sooner I can. . .keep him safe,” he said, voice dropping an octave with his obvious lie.
The thought of him leaving unsettled her. Her eyes trailed over his regal features, his dark skin emphasizing his frosty blue eyes that set well against his sharp bone structure. His cheeks were proud, strong.
His shoulders took up the entire door space, not that she minded though. The black shirt hugged him nicely in all the right places, relaxed and professional. Big hands lay at his sides, hands that she could imagine around her waist, touching her in hot places, making her feel the most pleasure she had ever felt. . .
