“No,” she said, soft and swift. “I wanted to go to the dance. I was a teenage girl. I wanted the pretty dress, the corsage, to dance beneath colored lights to sappy music. I wanted the attention…” With uncertainty and doubt, she appraised him. She blinked and silvery tears trekked along her cheeks.
He met her eyes and his gaze never wavered. “You can trust me, love.”
She scrubbed at her cheek with the back of her hand and sniffled. “I know I can, Zach. It’s not you that I doubt.”
He scowled. “Who then?”
Her eyelids fluttered. “Me. Always me.”
His expression softened. “Why? Theresa, you have nothing to be ashamed of. You’re a great mom and you hold a full time job. You have every reason to be proud of what you’ve accomplished.”
He understood her far better than she had ever imagined, and she wished for the self-confidence to feel pride instead of shame. She glanced down at her shaking hands, clenched so tight that her knuckles were white. Her stomach churned and she tasted bile in the back of her throat. It took all of her courage to open her mouth and tell him the truth.
“You know that Tony and I married right after graduation?”
Zach gave a curt nod. “You’ve mentioned that before.”
“I was young and stupid, and I knew I wasn’t ready for sex, but I let Tony pressure me into…”
Zach’s fists struck the tabletop and the wood split with an explosive crack. She jumped and knocked over a kitchen chair, which clattered to the ground and landed on its side. He bared his teeth and a snarl rolled from his throat.
“He raped you? I’m going to kill him.”
She shook with fear, not for herself or Isabel, but for what Zach would do to Antonio. She had just signed her ex-husband’s death warrant. If he killed Tony, then it would be on her conscience. His blood would be on her hands.
“Zach, no,” she said and grabbed his arm. She clung to him with both hands. Her voice trembled but she attempted to reach past his anger to be heard. “It wasn’t rape. I could have said no, but I really wanted him to love me and I thought that was the way. At the time, I didn’t have the self-confidence or the common sense to say no. I wasn’t even smart enough to insist that we use birth control…”
“Did you want to marry that bastard at all?” Zach calmed marginally.
“No, but I was pregnant. Bryce insisted that we marry when he found out. An abortion would have been unthinkable. Our fertility is already so low…” Her tears coursed down her cheeks and her nose clogged.
“Bryce had a duty to put your welfare ahead of pack politics.”
She shook her head. “Not then, not in this pack. Bryce was a tyrant and the strong ruled the weak through violence and fear.”
“The more I hear about Bryce, the more I wish I’d killed him myself.” He seemed to bring his temper under control and the volume of his voice dropped an octave.
She kept her hands locked on Zach’s shoulders, well aware that a female’s touch soothed the male wolf. “You can’t kill him, Zach. I’ve already dealt with him. I challenged him and I won, and now he knows his place. If you go around me now, then you’ll undermine my status within the pack.”
She was right and, from Zach’s belligerent expression, he knew it. He didn’t like it, but then he didn’t have to, so long as he respected her wishes. His jaw worked for a time, and then he managed a civilized tone. “When did you challenge him?”
Dredging up the past was painful for her, and the only way she could speak of it was to pretend she was telling a story about someone else. It gave her a strange, detached sensation.
“Antonio used to drink way too much. He’s an alcoholic, although he’s been in AA for three years now. When we got married, he swore that he’d clean up his act and do right by me and the baby. For a while, he was true to his word. He stopped drinking and showed up to work on time…”
Theresa continued to exert a cooling influence over his hot emotions, and Zach calmed enough to pick up her chair from the ground. He glanced at the ruined kitchen table. “I’ll replace that,” he said.
“Don’t worry about it.” Theresa remained standing near him so her hands touched his arms. “Tony slipped up following a football party.”
“What did he do?” Zach’s question probed the silence.
She cleared her throat. “He’d been drinking beer with his friends. Just a couple, he claimed, but he drank way too much, and then his team lost. When his friends went home…”
“He hit you,” Zach said, reaching the correct and grim conclusion.
Rekindled anger blazed in her dark eyes. “I was still pregnant and almost due. He punched me in the face and knocked me off my feet. I lay there stunned for a moment, thinking about how he might hurt the baby, and then I lost it. For the first time in my entire life, I got so angry that I had no control over my actions.”
Zachary’s lips formed a grim smile. “Maternal instinct,” he said with savage satisfaction. “That’s something I wish I could have seen.”
She shook her head. “No, I never want to be like that again. I climbed to my feet and when he tried to hit me again, I punched him. I hit him and I kept hitting him until I’d beaten him senseless. Then, I picked him up and threw him out of the house into the snow. The next day, I packed up and moved in with my mother. I never looked back.”
He cursed, but sorrow colored his voice. “No wonder you’re afraid of me.”
Without hesitating, she flung her arms about Zach’s waist, pressing her face to his chest. She clung to him and it wasn’t an act of submission. She had the rare opportunity to offer her smug, overconfident friend comfort. He hesitated, and then his arms closed about her.
“I’m not afraid of you, Zach. Not at all.” Theresa whimpered from the pleasure of touching him in such an intimate fashion. His arms were strong, his chest solid and warm beneath her cheek. She trembled but for reasons that had nothing to do with fear.
The truth of her words seemed to penetrate his anger. Zach dipped his head to gaze into her face; his wolf peered out of his bright blue eyes. The irises were so large they eclipsed the whites and his pupils were fully dilated. His hands stroked her shoulders and his aura cocooned her, making her feel protected and safe.
“You’re shaking.” His husky baritone dropped several octaves, layered with concern and desire. Perhaps scenting her yearning, the male body pressed against her own hardened with arousal.
“Zach?” Theresa gasped and pleaded his name. His lips brushed against hers, soft and then softer still. Theresa closed her eyes, enraptured by the feel of him, dreamt of every night, desired for years. He tasted hot and earthy with just a hint of red wine. Her heart beat faster, throbbing in her breast, and every breath hurt to draw. She might have suffocated for lack of air and yet longed only for another kiss.
“Theresa.” He repeated her name more than once.
Zach’s voice penetrated her reverie, an unwelcome intrusion. Reluctantly, Theresa opened her eyes. A blush crept across her throat, spreading to her face. “Zach, I don’t understand.”
He did not shy from eye contact or withdraw. The hard length of his arousal strained against the front of his jeans, pressing into her stomach. All doubts regarding his attraction were removed.
“I want to be sure you understand you have the right to refuse me,” Zach said.
She regarded him with exasperation. “Do I feel like I’m refusing you?”
He sighed. “You told Isabel you only feel friendship for me but I scent your desire when I’m near.” He ran the back of his hand across her cheek, so that soft blond hairs tickled her skin.
Theresa leaned into his touch. “Zach, for three solid years you never gave any sign you wanted more than friendship. How are you the one who’s confused?”
He flashed a wry grin. “Your point.”
“What I said to Isabel…” She trailed off awkwardly and dropped her gaze. “I didn’t mean it.”
He hesitated.
“Theresa, if I were to put you into a position where you felt compelled to submit… Hell, I couldn’t live with myself.”
“Are you going to tell me where this came from all of the sudden?” Theresa asked. “Why now?”
His nostrils flared and he looked like he wanted to say something, but then he shook his head. “I can’t. It’s too dangerous to say anything right now. I’m sorry.”
Theresa’s exasperation turned into frustration. “I feel like you’re patronizing me. So far, you haven’t offered any explanations for this courtship you’ve initiated. It feels like it just came out of the blue, and you’re not listening to me about what I want either.”
Anger sparked in his blue eyes. His nostrils flared. “I wouldn’t do that to you, Theresa. There are simply things that I can’t tell you right now. I’m asking you to trust me when I tell you that I’ve always been attracted to you. I’ve just been waiting for the right time.”
“And the right time is now?” Theresa stared up into his handsome face and attempted to discern what he kept hidden behind that stoic mask. However, she couldn’t penetrate his reserve. Zach had closed-off emotions down to an art. In many ways, he was her polar opposite, she who wore her heart on her sleeve.
“The right time is now.” The severity of his tone and demeanor startled her. Oh yes, something huge had happened that he was determined to keep secret.
Theresa blinked. “I do trust you. I do.”
“Good, then show me.” His gaze challenged her.
She wasn’t sure what he wanted or expected, but an impulse took hold. When Zach opened his mouth to speak again, she seized the front of his shirt and hauled him to her. As a werewolf, her strength was considerable, and her aggression caught them both unprepared. She met no resistance, and his solid body surged against hers so their torsos collided. Her mouth claimed his, harder than before, lips drawn back in a silent snarl to reveal teeth. Theresa stood on tiptoe and pressed her body against his muscular form. Her hands slid along his chest and then around his neck, fingers interlocking around his nape.
When they broke the kiss to breathe, Theresa asked, “Am I being clear enough?” Her own temerity shocked her, but she’d already lost far too much in life to ever let another opportunity slip through her fingers.
“Clear as day.” His wolfish grin would have made Red Riding Hood blush. “In fact, it’s becoming clear to me how I fell into your elaborate seduction. What with dinner and the wine.”
“Oh, you!” Snickering, Theresa landed a light punch on Zach’s chest. But she thanked her stars for his ability to restore their ease with one of his goofy jokes.
Eventually, their laughter died away. “I’d like to follow this through and see where it goes, Theresa,” Zach said.
She dropped her eyes but smiled, ready to burst from joy. Sooner or later, she wanted more of an explanation from him about what had changed. But for the time being, she was content. “What do you have in mind? Don’t you have to go to Chicago on Tuesday for a book signing?”
“I’ll only be gone for two days,” he said. “I’ll be home Thursday night for the full moon. How about I take you and Isabel on a picnic to Colton’s Meadow on Saturday afternoon?”
A frown furrowed her brow. “Don’t you play golf with Robert on Saturday mornings?”
Zach grinned to show teeth. “We’re only playing nine holes. I should be done by noon.”
“I’d like that,” she said. “What would you like me to pack for lunch?”
He arched his brow. “I’ll take care of lunch. A courtship isn’t valid unless the man provides a proper meal. I’m not taking the chance that you’re going to play love ’em and leave ’em with me, woman.”
She flushed but smiled with pleasure. “That custom is as old as time, and twice as silly.”
He leaned forward and plied her lips with a kiss, so soft and sweet it left her aching for more and her teasing suitor wasn’t being generous. “So, call me old-fashioned.”
Laughing, she threw up her hands. “Fine, you win! It’s a date. Bring lunch and make sure there’s chicken or turkey. Isabel won’t eat ham.”
“No ham.” Zach reached the front door and bent to kiss her goodnight, slow and wet, like the act of lovemaking with lips and tongues, penetrating and thorough. He left her breathless and light-headed. When their mouths separated, her head spun and he wore an insufferable smirk. “Tell Isabel, I’ll meet her after school tomorrow.”
“I will,” Theresa said and locked up after him.
She bounded up the stairs and down the hallway to her bedroom and landed on her mattress with a happy bounce. With a dreamy smile, Theresa clutched a pillow to her chest and sank into the downy bliss.
Chapter Five
Monday afternoon, Zach showed up fifteen minutes early to Isabel’s school, preferring to wait over the possibility of being late. He stood outside the fenced playground with the other parents, mostly women, who had congregated in groups of twos and threes. Pine trees ringed the grounds, providing shade for a variety of smaller bushes.
The school’s buzzer sounded, announcing the release of school and a swarm of small people poured from the building. Zach spotted Isabel waiting with her teacher and headed toward them.
“Hi, I’m Zach Hunter,” he said, offering Isabel’s young female teacher a friendly smile.
“Ms. Spaulding,” she said, shaking his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Isabel, do you have all your things?”
“Yes, Ms. Spaulding,” Isabel said, gathering up a pink and white kitty-covered lunchbox and matching rolling backpack. “Hi, Zach.”
Zach took Isabel’s hand and led her toward the parking lot. “I didn’t realize you are such a fan of cats.”
“Not usually, but I make a special expectation for this kitty.” Isabel tilted her head to stare up at him. “Fairies hate cats. Even if Mama let me have a kitten, I couldn’t keep it because my friends wouldn’t like it.”
“Exception,” Zach said. He settled Isabel into the child booster seat Theresa had given him and got her seatbelt fastened.
Isabel frowned. “What?”
“Never mind.”
“I don’t like it when you talk to me like I’m a kid.” Isabel had long ago mastered the petulant pout.
“Isabel, you are a kid.”
“Zach, you promised.”
He sighed. “All right. You make a special exception. Not an expectation.”
“What’s the difference?” she queried in confusion.
“An exception occurs when something doesn’t conform to a general rule; an expectation is something that is anticipated.”
The drive from Isabel’s elementary school to the ice cream parlor took less than ten minutes. The child filled up the time with animated chatter, topics ranging from her favorite color of green to the superiority of chocolate pudding over vanilla.
“Without a doubt chocolate is vastly superior. Which reminds me, have you eaten lunch?” Zach asked.
“Yeah,” Isabel scoffed. “We eat at school.”
He frowned, following her into the ice cream parlor. “Well, how am I supposed to know that? And what’s with the attitude—you don’t talk like this around your mother.”
Huge dark eyes considered him. “Mama would ground me. You won’t.”
Zach chuckled. “Can’t or won’t?”
He received no answer. Isabel’s attention was riveted upon the rows of candy, bins stacked high with every sugary treat imaginable. He attempted to herd Isabel past the confectionary section of the store but, in the end, he bought her a half pound of mixed hard candies in addition to a cotton candy-flavored ice cream cone.
“I don’t know how you can eat that,” Zach muttered, eyeing her ice cream with disgust. The neon pink-and-blue swirl drew his imagination to toxic nuclear waste.
“It’s my favorite. Chocolate is boring.” Isabel cast a pointed glance at his cone.
“Except when we’re discussing pudding,” Zach said with plenty of b
ite. “Speak for yourself, Munchkin. Chocolate happens to be my favorite. It’s a classic.”
“Borrring.” Isabel rolled her eyes. “Chocolate’s only better because they don’t make cotton candy pudding.”
“As you said.”
They moved outside with their ice cream to enjoy the warm afternoon sun. The September heat melted the ice cream, rendering it perfect for licking. The grassy areas of the Main Street Park were an oasis of green beneath patches of pine trees. A children’s playground was located on the north end. They sat on a park bench to eat and Isabel swung her feet back and forth.
“Do fairies like ice cream?” Zach asked.
Isabel frowned. “I don’t know.”
“I thought you knew everything there is to know about the Fae.”
She looked at him in that disquieting way of children and lunatics. “No one believes me. Not even Mama.”
“Adults are skeptical of what they can’t see with their own eyes,” Zach explained. “Most grownups don’t believe in fairies.”
Isabel giggled. “Most grownups don’t believe in werewolves but we are werewolves.”
He snorted. “Your logic is impeccable, chiquita. You must never tell non-shifter adults what you are, but even if you do they probably won’t believe you anyway.”
“Because we hide,” Isabel said.
Zach nodded. “Because we hide.”
“Like the fairies.”
“Like the fairies,” he agreed.
Isabel tossed her half-eaten cone into a trash can. “I’m full.”
“Me too.” Zach ate the point of his cone and disposed of the wrapper.
Isabel made a beeline for the swings. Zach diligently followed, prepared to push for all he was worth. He enjoyed the brief, albeit temporary, respite from the child’s relentless curiosity.
Would his child with Theresa be so precocious? Zach’s straying imagination took him on an unexpected turn into the realm of possibility. It wasn’t the first time he’d thought about having a family, but before it had always been an abstract concept. Now, he envisioned Theresa round with his child…and it pleased him beyond words.
The Mating Game Page 6
