by Rosanna Leo
“Your cousins?” she asked, her voice shaky.
“Right.” He shook off the fierce need to mount her. “It’s been years since my Uncle Mark died. He was Flynn and Fletcher’s father, and my dad’s younger brother. Flynn’s never gotten over it and has always sort of blamed my dad for his death.”
“That’s shitty.”
“Well, my dad was there, you see. It happened when my cousins were in their teens. Dad and Uncle Mark went out for a run in the woods. They used to love running together.” He grinned, remembering how much pleasure his father got out of shifting and racing with his brother in wolf form. “Anyway, they explored a piece of forest on an escarpment, an area neither knew very well. It was an adventure for them. Dad says they picked up the pace and began to race with one another through the trees. Without realizing, they headed toward the edge of the escarpment. Uncle Mark misjudged his steps and ran off the cliff. He died instantly.”
She stepped closer to him, holding out one hand. “Oh, Bartholomew. I’m so sorry.”
“Thanks.” He reached for her hand and squeezed it, getting a rush from contact with her soft skin. “Anyway, even though it was an accident, Flynn has never hidden the fact that he resents the rest of us. I see it in Fletcher sometimes too. Even though my parents took those boys in and treated them like sons, Flynn has exploited my father’s guilt for years, asking for money and privileges. It’s pathetic.”
“Does Fletcher do the same?”
“Nah. He’s usually the more reasonable brother, keeps to himself a lot. The only time Fletcher ever flew off the handle was shortly after his dad died. He raided my dad’s liquor cabinet one night. I came home from a school football practice and found him wobbling in the backyard. I offered to sober him up and he took offense.” He pointed to his facial scar and felt it twitch.
“He did that to you?” she whispered. “How come it didn’t heal? Shifters almost always heal from their wounds.”
“Even though I’m a bit older than Fletcher, his wolf made an appearance before mine ever did. When he lost it during that argument, he changed into his wolf, and I was stuck as a human kid. Maybe the scar never quite went away because I hadn’t assumed my wolf abilities yet. And then again, maybe I’m just meant to have a scar.”
She frowned at the old wound’s craggy lines. “I hope you eventually kicked his ass.”
He grinned. “More or less. Anyway, Fletcher’s all right. He keeps busy with his work, so we don’t see him much. I know he does all he can to rein Flynn’s moods in. Even does his best to help his brother with his money situation—no mean feat.”
“I know it’s not my business, but why is Flynn’s financial situation so bad?”
He rolled his eyes. “Well, he managed to get a few women pregnant. As I see it, wolf males have a responsibility to protect the women they sleep with. Because condoms don’t have an effect on us, we need to be careful. I guess Flynn doesn’t quite see it that way, but he likes to play the martyr, like he’s the injured party.” He considered all the glares and bitter comments he’d received over the years. “And he’s always resented me. I suppose a rivalry sprung up between us all when we were kids, and sometimes I don’t think my cousins have let it go. They both manage to create their fair share of drama in the pack.”
“And the Alpha is left picking up the pieces.” She gazed at him, understanding so clear in her bright eyes.
“Precisely. Another reason I never wanted this Alpha job. I’d rather not have to corral my cousins.”
Her gaze dropped, and she seemed concentrated on following the line of his jaw. She moved even closer, her granny boots almost touching his Kodiaks. “You don’t give yourself enough credit, Bart. You’ll make a great Alpha.” Half her mouth curled in a naughty smile. “You already love shouting at people.”
“Is that right?” He looked down at their linked hands and wondered why little Charles hadn’t pulled away yet. If he didn’t know any better…
His wolf bounced inside his soul, and his heart reverberated on impact. This was the woman who’d driven him around the sexual bend for years, flirting with every man but him, and now she seemed determined to stroke the hell out of his hand. With every seductive glide of her fingers, his cock raged harder in his jeans. Surely she could tell.
It would be so easy to kiss her right now, to pull her into his greedy embrace and not let her go until he’d loved her thoroughly and repeatedly. If she’d offered herself to him a year ago, even a month ago, he would have jumped at the chance to tear her clothes off.
But now his sense of responsibility flared and he wanted her to realize she meant more to him than a quick fuck against a wall. Damn, when had his crappy sense of honor kicked in? Was it when his father put the bloody crown on his head?
She moved even closer and he felt entranced by the gentle swish of her hips. Her granny boots wedged in between his boots.
“Bart,” she said, her voice a strained whisper. “Please.”
Please.
Hearing her beg was all it took to shatter his sense of propriety. As strange waves of sound, echoes of her fervent plea, hammered in his brain, Bart turned Charlotte and pinned her to the wall. Their bodies made hot contact as he gripped her shoulders, her thighs grazing his. Her arms circled around his waist in a possessive clutch. Her lips opened and her sweet breath fanned over him, heating him to his extremities.
He’d wanted this for so long.
Agonized by long-withheld need, he cupped her face. Thumbing her bottom lip, he pressed it open and kissed her. Her unique taste infiltrated his mouth as he brushed his lips against hers. So tasty, and he knew it had nothing to do with booze or lip gloss. It was her taste, all Charlotte.
And he wanted more.
He angled his head, knocking her nose in an attempt to drink her in. He slid his tongue against her closed teeth and felt her open.
Total euphoria. Charlotte opening to him proved the greatest triumph of his life. He could run a marathon, get a job with the FBI, or score tickets to Bruce Springsteen’s farewell concert, and none of those things would measure up against her kiss.
The sinful slide of tongue against tongue, satiny surrender, made his knees buckle. Bart leaned into her and moaned upon feeling the crush of her ample breasts against his chest. Even under their layers of clothing, he felt her nipples pebble and smelled the wet desire between her legs. Charlotte scratched her nails down his back, and he yearned to rip away their clothes and have her rake his skin properly. In a way that would leave sexy trails down his back.
For the first time in his life, he wanted to bite and mark a woman. And all because of one kiss.
Her tongue flicked softly at his and he sucked at it, drawing it into his mouth, his hunger in no way appeased. More, more, cried his spirit animal.
And just as he was about to move his hand to her breast, she pulled away. She touched her mouth and gazed at him in horror, her eyes wide and wild.
“Charlotte?”
She yanked herself out of his grasp. “I have to go.” With that, she tried to escape down the hallway.
Oh no, you don’t. He grabbed her hand. “What’s wrong?”
She stared at him and blinked water out of her eyes. In the time it took for her to compose herself, her gaze grew cold and unfeeling. “Nothing. This was a mistake. Enjoy the reunion, Bartholomew.”
And this time, as she ran away, he could only watch her in dreadful wonder, as if his feet were glued to the floor.
Chapter 5
The next morning, Charlotte pushed her cleaning cart around the lodge, losing herself in the busy crush of visitors as they headed down for breakfast in the various restaurants. She smiled and nodded at the guests, all shifters like herself, and did her best to ensure no one saw how frazzled she felt inside.
It shouldn’t be hard. She’d banished emotion from her life at the age of sixteen and had grown used to feeling like a blank slate.
And yet she’d begged him to kiss her. Un-fuckin
g-believable. She needed her head examined.
But it had been good. Off the charts good. Wet dream good. God only knew she’d woken up hot and sticky, fresh from raunchy, nocturnal images of him.
Growling, she shoved her cart into an open suite and began to clean the area. It wasn’t long before her mind drifted away from rearranging bed pillows to the velvety persuasion of Bart’s tongue. She knew wolves had good tongues. After all, even in the wild, a wolf’s long tongue was used for lapping up water with an efficient flair. Nevertheless, she’d never kissed a wolf man who knew how to use his tongue quite like Bart did. He didn’t slobber all over her, but teased and coerced her, which had resulted in the floodgates opening between her legs. Even now, just remembering, moisture seeped between her folds and into her thong. “Oh, Jesus-fuck-me-Murphy.”
She finished making the bed and then grabbed three pillows and whipped them against the floor in frustration.
“Hey, Charlotte, you okay?”
Her head whipped up at the inquiry. Lia Snow stood at the door, a crooked smile on her face as she regarded the poor pillows. Damn. With Lia being Ryland’s mate, she might as well have tossed pillows in front of the boss himself. So much for professionalism.
The bear woman looked around and quietly entered the suite, pulling the door shut behind her. She picked up the throw pillows, fluffed them, and placed them on the bed with a grin. Then she sat there, patted the mattress beside her, and invited Charlotte to sit. “Want to talk?”
She plunked herself down. “Not really.”
“Oh, come on.” Lia wiggled a finger into her ribs, making her giggle. “You know you do.”
She slapped the other woman’s fingers away. “Shouldn’t you be…canoodling with your husband somewhere?”
“Canoodling. Is that what the kids call it now?”
She brought her hands to her face. “Never mind. I don’t want to talk about canoodling.”
Lia leaned in and whispered, “Are you having sex problems?”
She whipped her hands off her face. “Oh my God. You’re my boss’ wife. I’m not having this conversation with you. Besides, I never have sex problems. People come to me with their sex problems. Fuck.” Her shoulders sagged. “Oops, sorry. Sometimes the curses just fall out.”
Lia gave her a wide smile. “That’s what I like about you. You let it all hang out.” She grew serious. “Look, Charlotte, we’re all friends here. Family, even. And if you’re troubled, Ry would want you to have an outlet. We all need one. And seeing as your BFF Marci isn’t here, I’ll have to do.”
She stared at the woman, feeling a measure of comfort in her friendly eyes. “I want to…canoodle with someone. A lot.”
Lia nodded and slapped her hands on her thighs, a woman on a mission. “Okay. First thing’s first. Have you told him?”
“No.”
“Are you going to tell him?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because…I’m not the right woman for him.”
Lia wrinkled her nose. “What does that mean?”
Frustrated, feeling hot, Charlotte got up and walked over to the window, and then walked back, feeling no real sense of direction. Her feet just wanted to lead her to Bart anyway, which wasn’t an option. “Just how it sounds. I’m not right for him. He needs…more than me.”
“What crap! You have a lot to offer. You’re smart and funny and, frankly,” she said, her eyes dropping to her boobs and widening, “super-hot. Do we have to enroll you in one of Ryland’s mentoring programs so you can work on your self-esteem?”
“It’s not a self-esteem issue, Lia. It’s just, this man, well, have you ever met someone, and you just knew they were on a different path than you?”
Her eyes warmed over and Charlotte knew Lia thought of her mate. “Sounds like Ryland and I when we first met. But our paths converged.”
“Fine. Let me put it another way. This man I know is destined to do amazing things. He’s a leader and he doesn’t even know it. But I see it in him. Others see it in him.”
Lia’s face crumpled. “And you don’t think you’re good enough for him?”
“That’s not what I mean.” She shook her head. “I know he will one day accept he’s a strong Alpha for his pack, even though he doesn’t see it now. And when he accepts it, he’ll need a strong, like-minded woman at his side, someone who will be there for him in every way and help him fulfill his destiny. I want that for Bart.”
The other woman’s hand flew to her mouth. “Fuck me. It’s Bart? Awesome! Frankly, I gave up on you two.”
“Oh, for shit’s sake. I didn’t mean to say his name. Goddammit.” She sat down next to Lia in a flurry and grabbed her hand. “Please, don’t tell anyone. Not even Ryland. All the dudes in this place hang out together, gossiping like old women.”
“True. Don’t worry, I won’t tell a soul. I promise.” She squeezed her hand. “But what’s with all this amazing destiny business? And why don’t you think you’d fit into it? From what I’ve seen, Bart idolizes you.”
“Maybe. I don’t know.” She pulled her hands out of Lia’s and let them fall into her lap. “All I do know is Bart will want a woman just like his mom. Someone nurturing and family-oriented, and I can’t be that woman. I’m…different. I want my career and success, and I don’t want to settle down with someone until I’ve seen everything there is to offer. Maybe I won’t want to settle down at all. I can’t give Bart what he needs.”
“I feel like there might be more to it than that. There’s something else bothering you, isn’t there? What are you really afraid of?”
“I’m not afraid of anything,” she said quickly. “It’s just what I said. Bart needs someone warm and capable of expressing emotion. I don’t do emotion.”
She ran a hand over Charlotte’s shoulder. “Sweetie, everyone does emotion. You’re selling yourself short.”
“No, like I said, this has nothing to do with self-esteem. We just want different things.” She sucked in a breath and let it fizzle out of her lungs in a slow stream. “There’s only one thing to do.”
“And that is?”
Charlotte stood, decided. “I have to leave Gemini Island. I know I told Ryland I’d work here for a while, but it was a mistake. He’ll have to understand. I need to get away from Bart or I’ll do something I regret. He pushes buttons in me and makes me fire up in a way that can’t be good. I don’t want him to get the wrong message. It’s for the best.”
“Uh, I’m not sure that’s a good plan…”
“Thanks for the chat. You helped a lot.” As Lia started to protest, Charlotte pushed her gently out of the room and closed the door behind her. She turned, eyed the room, and began to clean with a quiet fury.
* * * *
Bart came upon his dad in one of the enclosed porches looking over Lake Gemini, ensconced with Lena and Nate. Even before he’d turned the corner, he’d picked up on their conversation and knew his siblings had joined forces in grilling their parent. Bart held back and listened for a moment before making his presence known, clamping down on his telepathic connection with his brother and sister, so they wouldn’t sense him coming.
“Daddy,” Lena said, her voice sounding bruised. “You didn’t even ask Nate and I how we feel about being Alpha.”
“Yeah,” Nate agreed. “Would it have hurt just to inquire?”
Their father reached a hand out to both of them. “I’m sorry, guys, but your mother and I made this decision a while ago. You’re both still young and need to experience a bit more of the world before you settle down to such responsibilities.”
Lena, always the hot-headed one, pulled away. “You’re always making decisions on our behalf. Just like you did with me and—”
“Let’s not go there, love. You already know how your mom and I feel about him.” He sighed. “I’m sure Bart would agree.”
Bart frowned. He had no idea what they were talking about but wanted to know why his little sister was so upset.
He made a point to ask later.
“Oh, Daddy,” Lena all but shouted. “You have such a closed mind. And now you’ve put Bart in charge because he’s just like you. Stubborn and opinionated and…and more macho than the Terminator!”
Now that just hurt. He hated the movie.
Bart decided to join the conversation and entered the porch, but Lena was already running out, Nate hot on her heels. As he turned the corner, his sister crashed into him, her eyes wet with tears. He steadied her and offered her a small smile. She just glared at him and disappeared with their brother. Letting out all the air in his puffed cheeks, Bart entered the porch and approached his dad. “Pardon me for saying so, but being Alpha kind of sucks, Dad.”
His father smiled and picked up his coffee from the table, giving it an absent-minded stir. “It has its moments, but there are lots of good ones, too.”
Bart poured himself a coffee from the pot that stood nearby for guests and walked over to where his dad stared out the window. The porch was one of his favorite places in the whole resort, and he often found himself there, gazing at the pristine lake, on his days off. Only today, the view did nothing for him.
His father elbowed him. “I know I dropped you in it, son, but it really is for the best.” He grinned, as if able to read his mind.
“You really going to China and all those places?”
He smiled. “That’s the plan.”
Bart frowned but couldn’t deny his folks deserved a getaway after all they’d done for everyone. “I hope you and Mom have fun. I really do.” He took a slurp from his coffee cup, swallowed, and Charlotte’s face appeared before his eyes. His body reacted immediately in a number of embarrassing ways, and he was sure he reddened from head to crotch.
“So, aside from being made head of a family that drives you nuts,” his dad said, chuckling, “what’s wrong?”
Oh, nothing, he wanted to say. Just being tortured by the memory of two soft lips and the irresistible body attached to those lips. To say nothing about the annoying woman who owned said lips and body. “It’s not important.”
