Raashh Decisions (Xxan War Book 3)

by Brenna Lyons

Her expression crumpled. “Okay.”

  She thinks I’m refusing to spend time with her while she goes about the little details of life. It couldn’t be further from the truth. “Do you really want to do laundry?”

  “Arren, you can’t just buy me clean clothing every week.”

  He laughed. “I could, but I’m not suggesting it. Do you like doing laundry?”

  Her expression said she didn’t understand the question. “Of course not. Does anyone? It’s a chore.”

  “Which is why I have a service that does my clothing. In fact, they will be picking up a load this afternoon and returning it tomorrow afternoon.”

  Her mouth opened in an O of surprise.

  “I propose you pack a bag and plan to stay with me…as long as you wish to. We’ll take your laundry to my apartment. The service will be happy for the extra money, and you won’t have to do that particular chore this week. Instead, we can spend time together doing something enjoyable.”

  There was a moment of silence. “That’s a deal,” she decreed. Sandy leaned toward him and planted a kiss on Arren’s lips. Then she was gone, out of the bed and across the bedroom at a run.

  He smiled and pillowed his hands under his head. This is precisely what we need. Maybe we can make this a weekly agreement and spend every weekend together.

  No one else at Spice works seven days a week. Why should I?

  Chapter Fourteen

  Sandy set the file folders for the elder Mr. Rowe on Tasha’s desk and shouldered her purse. Though she didn’t doubt that Arren meant what he said about picking her up, if she didn’t leave for lunch with Arren while her inbox was empty, she might get cornered by someone before he arrived. It was safer to meet him in the lobby.

  Tasha called her back three steps away. Sandy took a calming breath and turned toward the desk, pasting on a smile.

  “You need something before I leave, Tasha?” It couldn’t hurt to remind the senior partners’ secretary that she was on her way out. I’ll tell her I have an appointment, if I have to.

  “Did I hear you say you were headed toward the Square?”

  “I am, but I have an appointment I can’t miss.”

  “That’s okay. It’s not urgent.” She hefted a manila envelope. “If you could drop this at the Spice Industries Building on your way back, I’d appreciate it. Jack went home sick and Stephanie is on vacation, so I don’t have an office courier in today, and I’m swamped under.”

  Her heart pounding, Sandy took the envelope and glanced down at the address on it. It wasn’t for Arren. It was for someone named Daveed Raashh. There is more than one Raashh at Spice Industries. “Sure. I can handle that.” It would give her more time with Arren, since he’d probably offer to show her to Daveed’s office. Overall, this was a stroke of luck.

  Her cheeks simmered at the fact that she was acting as if she hadn’t seen him for a week. I was at his apartment this morning.

  The weekend had turned into five days so far, and Sandy was in no hurry to go home for more than the things she hadn’t taken with her. If he asked me to marry him—mate with him—I’d say yes today. Sadly, there’d been no mention of it recently.

  “Thanks, hon.”

  Sandy turned toward the elevator and narrowly missed colliding with Jason. She started to round him, her heart stuttering at his glance at the envelope she was holding. Feigning preoccupation, she tipped it away and slid it into her purse. Then she made her way to the elevator.

  Jason reached out and pushed the button before she could. Sandy shot him a glare, then turned on her heel and headed for the stairs. It sounded like a good idea until his steps started echoing down the cinderblock stairwell behind her.

  I should have said I forgot something in my office.

  Oh, what does it matter? He’s a junior partner and son of one of the senior partners. The sad fact was that Jason could and would follow her anywhere in the building he wanted to.

  Besides the ladies’ room. That thought brought a wry smile to her face.

  “Sandy, you’re not avoiding me, are you?” His voice was sickeningly sweet, provoking her anger.

  “Just heading for some fresh air.” That part wasn’t a lie. She’d never noticed before how obnoxious Jason’s aftershave was in an enclosed space. That’s probably the scent Arren was so intent on getting rid of. Oh, do I understand that!

  “If you have a minute—”

  “I don’t, actually. I have an appointment I can’t miss.” The more times she said it, the smoother the half-truth came. And there’s the lobby door. I can get away from his stifling scent now.

  “At Raashh’s company? Is that where you met him?”

  She hesitated with her hand on the doorknob and turned to look at him. Jason smiled a vicious little smile that reminded her why she loathed him so much.

  “Met who?” she inquired coolly.

  “Whatever scaly you’re busy screwing now that I’ve dumped you.”

  Words failed her. Sandy pushed through the door into the lobby and headed for the desk. She’d wait for Arren there, where she’d have at least the security guards for witnesses.

  “I asked you a question, Sandy.” There was a bark of order in that.

  “And the answer is none of your business,” she informed him. I don’t need to answer him. Being the boss doesn’t grant him rights to my private life. Being an ex-boyfriend doesn’t either.

  For that matter, she didn’t need this job. There were other jobs. The more she thought about it, working somewhere else sounded really good to her.

  Other jobs and other choices I could make. If I mated with Arren, he wouldn’t want me to have a job across town from him. Would he?

  He hasn’t mentioned it, but what if I did? She didn’t know whether males always broached the subject of mating in Xxanian society or not.

  That thought came to a screeching halt as Jason’s hand closed around her upper arm and yanked her to a stop. Before she could protest, Jason whirled her toward him.

  He glared at her, and Sandy’s heart skittered in outright fear. She’d never seen him like this before. If anyone had asked her, Sandy would have claimed that it wasn’t Jason’s style to act this way.

  Something is wrong here. Very wrong. But what it was, she couldn’t say.

  “Did losing me really hurt you badly enough that you decided you wanted to give up men?”

  Her face burned in anger and embarrassment. “I’m not a lesbian, Jason. And you are offensive.”

  “Those swamp skins are not men.” He hurried on before she could protest. “Maybe you get off on the idea of sex in a public place.”

  The restaurant! Someone must have seen us go into the private room and told him. Or seen us come out of it.

  “Or maybe you like the idea of two cocks. Too bad I didn’t know. I’m sure I could have found another human willing to fuck you while I did. That might have at least made you passably interesting in bed.”

  Her temper ignited. Arren was proof enough that the problem in bed hadn’t been hers. Well, it was my problem, since Jason wasn’t giving me what I needed, but thankfully Jason is someone else’s problem now.

  “A man doesn’t have to have two cocks to be twice the man you are or more. I imagine two-thirds of the men walking the Earth, Xxanian or not, are twice the man you are.”

  “Cute. You really are a scaly-lover, aren’t you?”

  “At least I’m not a specist like you are.”

  “You need to let the lady go.”

  Sandy panned her gaze up and to the right to Arren’s face, at a loss to explain this scene to him. She had no idea how much he’d heard or how it might be misinterpreted. He tipped his head, his expression making promises she couldn’t comprehend.

  “Piss off,” Jason ordered without looking at him. “This is a private matter.”

  “It’s about to become a police matter, if you don’t let her go.”

  Jason shot a dirty look over his shoulder, his eyes widening at the sight of Ar
ren. He shifted toward the Xxanian that towered over him. “Mr. Raashh? What are you doing here?”

  “I came here to pick up my mate for lunch. Imagine my surprise to find out one of the partners in my company’s law firm is a such a blatant bigot.”

  “I can expl—”

  “And imagine my surprise to find that same male assaulting my mate for the heinous crime of loving one of my kind.” His face tipped down, drawing both Jason’s and her own attention to his hand ringing her arm. “I suggest you let Sandy go. Now.”

  It was delivered in what she was sure was a falsely calm voice. Jason had been given his only warning.

  He was too stunned to comply, probably preoccupied with envisioning his future being flushed because of this scene.

  When Jason didn’t move, Arren did. He plowed the tips of all four fingers on his right hand, molded into a blade shape, into Jason’s shoulder. Jason’s grip on her arm released, and Sandy rushed to Arren’s back.

  She didn’t see the next move, but she heard it. The punch sent Jason skidding across the marble floor. Arren didn’t chase him. He stood there calmly, watching as the security guards rushed from their desk to the scene.

  ****

  The next few minutes were a confusion of shouts and demands. Arren answered each one calmly, well aware of the pleasant press of Sandy against his back.

  Defending her had made him feel alive. It had felt good to plant his fist in Rowe’s face. It had felt better to have Sandy run to him for protection when Rowe’s stunned nerves caused his grip to falter.

  To me. The Subdominant. It was something Arren had never anticipated the experience of.

  “This one is going to need an ambulance,” one of the two guards announced. “Looks like a broken jaw.”

  “I assume the police will be arresting him once it’s patched,” Arren suggested.

  The guard looked around at Sandy then up at Arren. “I suppose they’ll have to. I’m sorry, sir, but they are going to have to arrest you too.”

  He nodded grimly. “I know, but it had to be done. He was hurting my mate.” It was presumptuous of him to keep calling Sandy that, since he hadn’t bound the lovely lady to him yet. But I will. If she’s willing to be bound, I will.

  “No,” Sandy protested.

  His stomach clenched, and he prayed to the Seir-God that she wasn’t protesting his use of the title for her.

  “No. You can’t arrest Arren. He was only protecting me. Jason was the one that—”

  Arren drew her to his chest and cupped a hand around her cheek. He rumbled out one of the soothing calls in Xxan, shaking his head. She sank to his chest, still trembling.

  “I broke the law, Sandy. It’s okay. They have to arrest me, but I won’t be in jail long.”

  “Too long,” she complained. “It’s not fair. It was his fault.”

  “A man takes responsibility for his own actions. Rowe was hurting you. I chose not to wait for these men to intervene. I chose to hurt him in return to make him release you. I must own that choice and pay for it.”

  The closer of the two security guards cleared his throat. “I’m on your side, sir. And I’ll say so too, even if it costs me my job here.”

  “If that happens…” He sighed. “I appreciate your honesty, sir.”

  Arren stopped short of offering the man a job. It might be seen as bribery of some sort. Though the Xxan didn’t condone the practice, it might appear he was doing so, when he was simply taking note of a security guard with a moral center he admired. In that profession, it was a worthy attribute to possess.

  The doors opened, and the police marched in.

  Arren thought fast. He pulled the chain with his Identi-chips on it and pressed it into Sandy’s hand. She looked down at them, then up at him, her innocent blue-gray eyes large and lost.

  “I want you safe. When the police are through with me, take my car. Let yourself into my apartment and stay there. Promise me, please.”

  She hesitated for a moment. “Only if you promise to come directly there when they release you.”

  A smile pulled up at his lips. “Of course.” Knowing she was there, where else would he want to go?

  “Should I call anyone?” she offered. “Betty?”

  “No.” Her first step would be to call Tasker and Rowe to handle it anyway. “I am certain Tasker and Rowe will take care of this very quickly. The last thing they will want is to leave me sitting in a jail cell, and they will know about this within minutes.”

  She nodded solemnly.

  That settled, Arren brushed a gentle kiss over her lips and turned to face the officers that would place him in handcuffs and—for the first time in his life—place him on the wrong side of the law’s eye.

  ****

  Sandy strode into Arren’s penthouse. The elevator door closed behind her. She ambled across the room and let the Identi-chips fall to the table from shaking fingers.

  The sight of him in handcuffs had brought tears to her eyes. Even now, she wanted to cry at the thought on him in a jail cell.

  And why? Because Jason was being an asshole, and Arren tried to protect me.

  At least Arren didn’t seem upset with her about it. Considering the horrible things Jason had been saying, some men might have believed Sandy shared those sentiments. Or that I had shared them at some point before meeting Arren.

  She shed her purse and suit coat onto the dining room table and made her way further into the apartment. It was unnaturally still but not unwelcoming. In the distance, she could hear the water bubbling into the pond from the small waterfall at the back.

  It feels like home. All that’s missing is Arren.

  He’ll be here soon. He’d promised to come here after he was released.

  Sandy toed her heels off and left them next to the bed. The bath was too enticing. She wanted to wash Jason’s touch off. Arren wouldn’t want his scent in our home.

  That stopped her cold for a moment. Our home. It could be our home, if we mated.

  Protecting their home was abruptly important to her. Sandy rushed to the bathing chamber and peeled off her clothes. After dropping them in the collection bag for the cleaners, she slipped into the water.

  The clove soap Arren preferred to use made her skin tingle, and Sandy luxuriated in the sensation. She lounged in the water, feeling slightly guilty that Arren was nowhere near as comfortable as she currently was.

  The stresses of the day wore at her, and the heated water lulled her toward sleep. Regretting every move, Sandy eased out of the pool and dried off with a thick, soft towel.

  A check of her discarded watch showed that it had been two hours since the police had taken Arren away. He’d said he’d be here soon. How long could they keep him?

  At a loss for anything else she wanted to do—or thought she could realistically focus on—Sandy ambled to the bed. Their clothing, stripped off in the heat of the moment the night before, littered the floor. She scooped up Arren’s shirt and inhaled his scent.

  Sandy pulled the shirt over her head, and curled into the bed, determined that he’d find her here when he returned.

  ****

  “Rash,” the officer called out.

  Arren rose from the cot stiffly and nodded to him.

  The bars rolled back, and the officer waved him out. “Bail has been posted. You’re free to go.”

  He ducked his head to pass through the too-short doorway, then straightened as the door clanged shut again. The officer led him to a desk without a word, returned his belongings, got his signature on the sheet attesting that everything was there, then ushered him to the lobby of the cramped building.

  His internal question of what would happen next died at the sight of Daveed.

  Fuck me.

  Arren had thought bail had been posted by the law firm when they heard what had happened between Rowe the Younger and himself. He’d expected one of the senior partners to be in attendance, sucking up to Arren to avoid losing their account.

  It wo
uldn’t have worked, of course. He still intended to send a very personal and costly lesson about the price of bigotry to Rowe, his family, and their firm.

  But Arren hadn’t expected to see his older brother, his arms crossed over his chest, looking wholly and completely pissed off. That was a most unwelcome sight at best.

  Arren’s body hummed in awareness of his brother’s sheer bulk. Daveed was a Dominant. He was half a head taller than Arren and had twice the muscle mass. Though Daveed had been full grown when Arren had been born, and as such they’d never tussled as brothers often did, Arren had never been completely unaware of his brother’s imposing size.

  Daveed, like most first generation crossbreeds, was also nearly-completely hairless. Arren had always been the oddity in that. He looked more like a second generation than a first, though no one could say for certain why that was.

  “Come with me,” Daveed ordered.

  That grated at Arren’s nerves. “Where, precisely?”

  “To the nest. Raashh wants to see you. Immediately.”

  “Too bad. I have somewhere else to be. Immediately.” A foreign emotion rose up in him. His nest had little use for Arren. Why should he have more use for them?

  Daveed’s look of shock should have been comical. Instead, it made Arren angry. As usual, they expected Arren to take their orders and swallow down the shit they threw his way.

  Not this time.

  “The Grea Elder… Our seir has given you an order. Doesn’t that mean something to you?”

  “It means nothing has changed and I was right to move out of the nest,” he countered.

  Daveed took a step toward him, his fisted hands swinging at his side in promise of a pummeling. Arren considered warning him that attacking Arren here would result in both of them being tossed back in the cells he’d just exited. Since Arren didn’t intend to lay down and let Daveed beat him senseless, that was a given.

  “Do you have any idea how much embarrassment you’ve caused the nest? Rowe the Elder and Tasker showed up at the doors, full of apologies for some slight they believe Rowe the Younger caused you. They wanted to apologize to you personally. We didn’t even know you were imprisoned until they told us. You get locked up in a common jail and don’t even bother to call your nest? How do you think that made us look to them?”